Cold Moon Dead (27 page)

The parking lot was jammed, as usual, so I parked in a spot reserved for a doctor. After jogging up the steps from the lot to the front door, I entered the lobby of the hospital, and marched toward the information desk. A large black woman turned toward me and asked if she could be of assistance. When I requested the room numbers for the infamous couple, she got all huffy and said they weren’t receiving visitors.

I gave her the face—you know, the one your mother gives you when she’s not happy about something you’ve done—and turned away. My mind traveled at lightning speed, considering ways in which I could find out what floor the two losers were on. I remembered a nurse I knew, Rob Dubois, who worked on the surgical floor.

The elevator stopped at the fifth floor. I stepped out and walked to the nurses’ station. As luck would have it, Rob stood facing me, a chart in his hands.

He leaned across the counter and whispered, “Vin, the cops said you might show up, but I never really believed you would. What the hell are you doing here?”

It wasn’t the reception I’d expected. I was right in thinking the two Jabronis were on this floor and that Rob knew he’d be in trouble if word got out we were friends.

His face was stern and I could tell he wished I hadn’t stepped off the elevator on his floor. I said, “I’m here to see one of the cops guarding Jabroni. He needs his grades from last semester or he won’t get reimbursed by the department.” Hell loomed on my horizon, but I was ‘going for the gold’ in the lies department.

“Call him, then.”

“He’s not answering his phone,” I clarified, trying to sound miffed.

“Fine, the officers are down the hall to the left. Be quick—and no funny stuff, Vinnie.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” I smiled and headed down the corridor. A heavy-set cop stood guard outside one room, and the other, leaner one leaned against the wall outside the room across from him. I knew them from past classes, but couldn’t remember their names.

“Esposito, what are you doin’ here?” the heavy cop asked.

“I need a moment with the Jabronis.”

“Fat chance. I have strict orders that they are to have no visitors. Not even you—especially not you.”

“Look, I’ll stand just inside the door and speak with Mr. Jabroni. I won’t interfere with your job or put you in a bind, honest. I’ll only be a moment,” I pleaded, then smiled. “He held my parents against their will, you know.”

As a law enforcement instructor who works closely with police departments around the small state of Rhode Island, I’m often considered a member of the Fraternal Order of Police family. This gives me an advantage many don’t have, but they wish for. I never pass up an opportunity to use it to my advantage.

The big guy waffled a bit, looked at the other officer across the hall, and finally stepped aside for me to enter the room. In a flash, I was inside and about two feet away from Jabroni’s bed.

“So, you made it in to see me after all? I figured you would,” Jabroni said in his gruff voice.

“I wanted to make sure you were alive so you could go to jail for attempted murder. If they can’t get you on racketeering, then attempted murder, or assault with intent to commit murder, should work nicely.”

“Is that any way to speak to me after what I did for you?”

“And that would be what, exactly?”

“I protected you from my wife. She would have killed you had she gotten the chance when you came to the house sneaking around just before I shot her.” He saw my surprise and continued, “I knew you were in the next room trying to hide.”

I didn’t know he’d been aware of it and didn’t care anyway. I wanted him in jail for placing my parents in a bad position. Now the Feds would be climbing all over their business and making their lives miserable. It pissed me off.

“You know what? My mother was right about you. You are a bad, bad, bad man and should pay for your sins. Now you will have your chance.”

“If this has to do with the death of your uncle . . . I didn’t kill him. He was killed by someone else, not me, and not on my orders.”

“I don’t care if you didn’t kill him. You have done many other dirty deeds that more than qualify. There was a cold moon when you were stabbed and maybe you should have stayed cold moon dead. It would have saved the state considerable trial costs.”

He remained silent. I turned and left the room.

The heavy cop nodded as I walked across the hall toward Mrs. Jabroni’s room. Stepping toward the door, I glanced at the officer and nodded. He opened the door and stood aside. The door remained ajar. I guessed he wanted to make sure I didn’t choke the shit out of the woman or he wanted to hear what I said. Either way, it didn’t matter to me.

The old woman had aged terribly. Her hair was askew, and her face was without make-up as she lay hooked up to machines, intravenous tubes with monitors that beeped every now and then. A pathetic-looking hag, but still a dangerous one for sure.

Her dark eyes watched my movements as I stepped forward. Again I stopped about two feet from the end of the bed, as I had with Mr. Jabroni.

“Where is my freakin’ car?”

A weak cackle met the question.

“You know the cops have you dead to rights. I just want the damned car back along with the handbag. So just tell me where they are, dammit.”

“Go to hell.” She cackled again and turned her head away.

Angry, my hands fisted at my sides. I stayed in place, resisting the urge to actually choke the life out of her. How could I get her to talk to me? An idea formed and I smiled.

“By the way, I just left Tony and he has company. His lover is there along with his lawyer. They’re planning his release as we speak. Too bad he’ll live happily ever after while you’ll be a guest of the state at the women’s prison. No manicures, no lackeys, no maid service . . . you’ll just be one of the girls. Maybe you’ll even become a girlfriend of one of the inmates.” Oh yeah, I was on a roll now.

A mean stare replaced the look of disinterest. Her anger mounted. I could tell by the way her nostrils flared as she peered at me.

“He’s a bastard. Always was, and always will be.”

“His lawyer says you’ll take the fall for a lot of crap and spend the remainder of your happy days in jail. What do you think of that?”

“Get me the cops. That bastard will die in prison when I get done with him. I put up with his philandering ways for too long to stand for this shit now.”

I nodded, and motioned for the cop to come into the room. When he stepped inside, I requested he get the district attorney on the phone and also the police chief and tell them to come to the hospital. He flipped open his cell phone and dialed a number. A few moments later, he said my requests were being met.

“Now, if you want a sweet deal, tell me where my car and handbag are. When the DA gets here, I’ll tell him how helpful you’ve been.”

“That car is long gone. You’ll never see it again. I gave the bag away to some homeless woman along with your cash and credit cards.” She laughed, coughed, and spit up some blood.

The sight turned my stomach like flip-flopping Jell-O. I needed to leave before I threw up all over the floor. Motioning to the cop, I ordered him to get the medical team. He nodded. I hurried from the hospital as fast as my long legs would carry me.

No car, no handbag. A bad mood was all I had as I drove away from the hospital. I turned the rental car toward my parents’ house and hoped they were having a better day than I was.

Within minutes, I’d parked in the driveway and entered the house. It was quiet—no food cooking, no signs of life. I glanced around the pristine kitchen. Nobody was home, though the door had been unlocked.
Hmm.

Wandering from room to room, I called to my mother, my father, or to anyone who might be there. No answer. I had just settled at the kitchen table, wondering where they could have gone, when the door swung open and my mother strolled inside. Rosy cheeks set off her red nose caused by the brisk wind outside. The wool scarf fluttered to the chair as she took her coat off.

“What are you doing here, Lavinia? Are you all right?”

Was I all right? The house was unlocked and empty upon my arrival, and she asked if I was all right?

“Umm, I’m fine and how about you?”

“Fine, just fine. I’ve been to the Post Office to renew my passport. Your father is taking me to Italy on vacation. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Italy? You’re going to Italy? Why?” My mind shifted. Did they think they had to get out of the country fast? That they were in more trouble than they really were?

As if reading my mind, my mother shook her head and looked at me.

“It’s his way of making up for the Jabroni incident.” Her excitement rose and brightened the entire room. It brought a smile to my lips. “We’re leaving Monday.”

All was well with my family, thanks be to God. No leftover anger, no recriminations, and no divorce. Yes, life was good.

There was the aiding and abetting criminal issue, though. I checked my watch and figured Marcus would be dropping by anytime now. I’d no sooner had the thought when he knocked on the door. My mother turned and beckoned him inside.

Moments later, my father strolled through the door. We all sat gathered at the table and it seemed we were all waiting for something. My father glanced around at each of us and finally asked, “What?”

I took a deep breath and answered him. “Dad, Mom, Marcus would like to talk to you about recent events and your part in them.”

My father blustered, gave me a piercing look, and then motioned for Marcus to go ahead and talk. I leaned back in the chair, waiting for fireworks to begin, but I was mistaken. My father listened as Marcus outlined why my parents’ actions were criminal, how they could have been prosecuted, and lastly how dangerous their situation had been. When he finished speaking, Marcus glanced at me with a slight smile.

My father said, “You’re right, of course. I shouldn’t have taken Tony in, but I couldn’t let his wife kill him. He will now be tried and punished for his crimes. It’s not for me or mine to judge him. Thank you, Marcus, for talking to us about this, though.”

To say I was shocked by his acceptance of what Marcus had to say, was putting it lightly. Then I saw the sparkle in Dad’s eye. I knew he was well aware that if this happened again, he would probably do things the same way. I shook my head a bit and said it was time to leave.

With a kiss to their cheeks, I left my parents’ house. Marcus walked me out, climbed into his cruiser and asked if I thought what he’d said made any difference to my parents. I shrugged, kissed him, and headed home.

“At least we tried. Thanks.”

It looked like I was going to have to shop for another car. Wasn’t that just a pain? I sighed and stopped at the market for a few items. Afterward, I took a left at the light in the village.

Heading up the street, I recognized Marcus’s cruiser parked outside the house. How had he gotten here before me? Then I remembered I had stopped at the store.

Marcus stood on the sidewalk, leaning against the car, a smile on his face.

The rental car came to a stop behind the car parked in my driveway. I jumped out and ran toward the vehicle. It was in perfect condition. I turned with my mouth open to find Marcus laughing as he strode up the driveway.

“You should see your face.” His chest heaved with laughter.

“Where did you find it? It’s mine, right? My own car?”

“It sure is.”

“Where was it all this time?” I asked.

“Hidden with a group of cars at a storage facility awaiting shipment out of the country. We found the information on them when we ransacked the store and the house. Jabroni’s wife had a stash of paperwork hidden in her bedroom under lock and key.” He whipped a set of keys from his pocket and handed them to me.

In a second, I had thrown myself against his body and was kissing him all over his face. He laughed while his hold on me tightened.

“Look inside,” Marcus said with a grin.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

I scrambled around the car and whipped the door open. My Louis Vuitton handbag sat crumpled on the front seat. A little worse for wear, but still, it was mine and that’s all that mattered.

Jumping for joy, I grinned like a fool. Marcus couldn’t contain his laughter. I invited him into the house after locking the car doors.

“I can’t stay long. I shouldn’t be here now. I took my lunch break to lecture your parents like you asked me to.” He chuckled and followed me inside. “It’s a good thing you got here when you did. I was about to leave.”

Stepping into his arms, I laid a heavy kiss on him, hoping to change his mind. His jacket came off, along with the gun belt and other things as we moved into the bedroom.

Yes, life can be good.

J.M. Griffin is a student of the human condition, wielding the written craft
to stimulate the imagination. Like an artist, J.M. uses blank pages to draw vivid characters. Other titles
featuring the intrepid sleuth Lavinia (Vinnie) Esposito include
For Love of Livvy
,
Dirty Trouble
, and
Dead Wrong
. J.M. lives in rural Rhode Island, a colorful and interesting state.