Dead Wrong (13 page)

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Authors: J. M. Griffin

BOOK: Dead Wrong
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Chapter 18

Thin layers of snow dusted everything. Steam from my coffee rose out of the earthenware mug. I stared through the French sliding doors in the kitchen, amazed at how everything changed with a smattering of white flakes. The door glided open on silent rollers when I pushed it to the side. Brisk air filled my lungs as I breathed deeply. Snow didn't have a definite smell, just a fresh, clean crispness to it that always pleased my senses.

The sliding door above mine opened and footsteps shuffled across the deck. Snow fluttered down through the decking. I grinned as it dusted my hair and shoulders.

“Good morning, big guy,” I called up to Aaron.

More snow spiraled down as he leaned over the rail to stare at me. He chuckled and said ‘hello.'

“I didn't realize you were out here. Is that fresh coffee you have in your hand?”

With a smile, I nodded and beckoned him to come downstairs. Within seconds, I heard his tread in the hallway. I closed the slider and locked it. When Aaron strode through the door, he chuckled again and sat at the counter.

“Sorry about the snow on your hair. The first snow is always the best, don't you think?” he asked.

“Yeah, I love the smell of it.”

His eyebrows shot up and a wide grin covered his face. “I hadn't quite thought snow had a scent, but I guess you're right.”

“What time did you get in last night? I never heard a thing,” I said.

“I had some stuff to deal with, but I got in around eleven. All was dark here. Giovanni's car was gone, so I figured you'd called it a night. Is everything all right with you two?”

“Yeah, we're good. We just have the usual twin stuff going on. He says things that I'm thinking and vice versa. It can be annoying, but it's okay.”

“What kind of twin things? I know nothing about twins,” he asked.

“Sometimes the bond between twins is strong enough that they are on the same plane. Not the plane that flies, just a mind plane. It used to be fun when we were kids, but now it's a bit different.”

“Do Gina and Cara have that bond?”

“Theirs is incredibly strong and always amazes me. They are identical, but Gio and I aren't. That's the difference between us. Gina and Cara used to exchange classes in school. It drove the faculty nuts.”

“Interesting,” he said with a wry smile. “What are your plans for Thanksgiving?”

“There's always a feast at my mother's house,” I said. “Where are you eating?”

“My mother has arrived from Virginia. We'll have dinner with my brother and his wife. I thought you might want to stop by later in the day, if you're not busy.”

I stared at him for a heartbeat and thought about the parade in front of the family relations. Cripes, this was becoming a habit.

“Where does your brother live?”

“In Wickford. I'll give you the address and phone number.” He reached for the pencil and paper near the phone and scribbled on it. “If you want to come by, feel free to call and let me know.”

Uneasy, I sipped my coffee. With a noncommittal nod, I accepted the slip of paper he proffered.

“Who else will be there?” I asked.

“Just a few other family members and some friends.”

“FBI friends?” I wanted to know.

“No, just family friends. My whole life isn't about the FBI, even though it takes most of my time. Why do you ask?”

“No particular reason. Just my curiosity in overtime mode.” I smiled and he chuckled.

“Do you have any classes today?” he asked.

“No, my work week is over. I'm only teaching four days of classes a week this semester. Long classes, but a short week.”

“Want to take a ride with me this morning?” His warm brown eyes glimmered and he waited for me to answer.

“What did you have in mind?” Leery, I didn't want to end up in an FBI position that would compromise my family in any way.

“I have to start my Christmas shopping and wondered if you'd give me a hand with it.” He leaned forward, pouring more coffee in his cup.

The toaster sat next to the coffee pot. I popped some bread in and pushed the lever down. I slid the butter, along with some of my mother's homemade jam, across the counter and pulled two plates from the cupboard. It was a buy-time measure as I thought about what Aaron might really want.

“Vin, it's not as if I've asked you to fly around the world with me, so stop procrastinating.” He smirked when I stared at him.

“I wasn't,” I denied. “I thought you might like some toast with your coffee.”

“Sure.” He grinned. “Will you go with me or not?”

“How could I refuse such a request?” I smiled and handed him a plate filled with warm toast.

Butter and thick globs of strawberry jam layered the top of his toast as I dressed mine. I poured more coffee and we munched as he explained his dilemma.

“I never know what to buy the women in the family, or even my mother for that matter. She has eclectic taste and I'm always stumped when it comes to her.”

After he explained the ages of the nieces and nephews, what style of home his mother had and the jobs of the sisters-in-law, I got a clear view of his family.

“When do you want to leave?” I asked.

His eyes strayed to the wall clock and he asked, “Would an hour from now be good?”

“Indeed. I can be ready by then.”

We finished breakfast. I watched him leave the apartment with a smile on his face. Could Gio and Marcus be right? Did he have it bad for me? Yikes. Was I leading him on? I hoped not, I cared too much about our friendship for that to happen.

An hour later, I heard the knock on the door before Aaron strode through. Dressed in corduroy slacks, loafers, and a soft knit V-neck sweater, he looked too much like an L.L.Bean commercial for me not to chuckle.

“What?” he asked.

“You look like you stepped from the L.L.Bean catalog.”

“Do I? Is that bad?”

“Not at all. It's just a far cry from the day I met you. The slacks you had on would have sliced cake and the shoes had to be handmade Italian leather. Am I right?”

“Yeah, the attire was a gift from my mother. I do like nice clothes though and shop at Joseph A. Banks quite often.”

A clothes horse, that's what he was. A WWF body wrapped in Joseph A. Banks clothing. Who could ask for more? Even in casual attire, Aaron looked hot and more handsome than ever. I chuckled, slipped my jacket on, and we left for the Mall.

As with most light snowfall in Rhode Island, only the northwestern section of the state had any of the white stuff. Once we'd reached the next town, there was no snow to be seen, just cold temperatures instead. We drove to Warwick and headed into the Mall.

Elaborate decorations adorned every window of the stores that lined both sides of the building. Grand trees, laden with ornaments and garlands centered the aisle of the huge shopping center. Christmas music combined with muted sounds of people shopping and talking filled the air. The sight and sounds alone brought on the holiday spirit, which I always had in abundance at this time of year. It simply slid over me like a mantle right around Thanksgiving and I enjoyed nothing more than shopping for presents. The Christmas tree was another matter.

“If your knee starts to give you problems, just tell me and we'll call it a day, Vinnie,” Aaron murmured as we rambled along, gaping at the store windows and pointing out the decorations that appealed to each of us.

In Macy's, we headed toward the women's section. I glanced around at the clothing, handbags, and shoes. A Ferragamo bag caught my eye and I lifted it from the display. Soft leather filled my hands and the fresh smell of the material floated up my nostrils. Some poor animal had given his life so a woman could carry everything but the kitchen sink inside this bag. Well, someone had to carry it, so why not me? Wait, I wasn't here to shop for myself, so I put the bag back in place.

Aaron held up two cashmere scarves for inspection. I stared at the material. Smoothing it with my fingers. Lovely, I thought. The feel of cashmere against skin is soothing and the colors of all the other scarves on display were as rich as the ones Aaron held in his hands.

“Who are these for?” I asked.

“My sisters-in-law, what do you think of them?”

Buttery material, glorious colors of deep burgundy and ultramarine blue – nothing wrong with those. I wondered if these women appreciated the effort Aaron put into their gifts.

“They are wonderful. Do the women wear these colors?”

“Yeah, they are prone to business attire. I think these will do just fine.”

I smiled and nodded. He turned to pay for the scarves while I meandered away from the counter toward the Coach handbags, further away. Bags and belts nestled in with festive looking shoes. I picked them up and looked them over. As I set them back on the display, I glanced around.

There was something familiar about a woman with dark eyes who stared at me from across the room. She turned away and headed toward the door, but not before she gave me a nasty glare. I stood, uncertain, for a moment, wondering what the look meant. Where had I seen her before? I couldn't remember and it niggled at me until I heard Aaron's voice from behind.

“Contemplating some new shoes?”

“Huh?” I glanced at him and then smiled. “No, just looking.”

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Uh, no. I thought I saw someone familiar, but must have been mistaken.”

After a few more stores and several additional purchases, my knee began to throb. We'd been in the mall for a couple of hours and I needed a break.

With bags in hand, we left the building and headed toward Garden City. This section of Cranston held an outdoor mall where stores were entered from the sidewalk. There was a wide parking lot wedged within the center of the shops. Joseph A. Banks stood on one side with the Kids Gap and several other elite stores. On the opposite side of the parking area stood the Yankee Candle shop, a few expensive women's clothing shops, the Eddie Bauer store, a fine jeweler's, and a Victoria Secret's store – among others. Restaurants interspersed the shopping district and we headed into one of them.

The head waiter approached us as we entered. I glanced around, reveling in the delicious scent of scrumptious delights. I smiled as we wound our way toward the table assigned to us. Tall menus were handed out and I ordered a club soda with a twist of lime while Aaron ordered coffee. We sat in companionable silence reading the menu when I glanced up to see Aaron's gaze.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” he said and then cleared his throat. “What will you have for lunch?”

“Uh, the spinach salad will do nicely.”

He signaled the waiter and gave our order. After the waiter left, Aaron reached across the table and took my hand. Panic swelled as I stared at him.

“This has been a great day. We should do this again sometime.”

“Mmm, that's sounds like a plan. Who else do you need to shop for?” I asked, unable to take my eyes from his.

“Just a few more people, but I think you've put enough pressure on that knee for today.”

With a nod, I sensed him having something else to do. Afraid to ask what he was up to, lest it concerned romance or my family, I glanced around the room at the décor. I wondered who the artist was that had painted the mural on the back wall. Before I could voice my question, the food arrived and I was saved the trouble.

Large slices of tomato and fresh mozzarella cheese nestled within tender baby spinach leaves. Fresh, paper-thin slices of Spanish onion colored the cheese and the roasted red pepper strips that lay across the top. A light vinaigrette dressing had been drizzled over the salad, and warm bread sticks lay cloth-wrapped in the nearby basket.

A chuckle from Aaron brought my attention to him and away from the food. I smiled and watched him indulge in the angel hair pasta topped with a savory marinara sauce on his dish. A salad of mixed greens sat to the side of his plate. He unwrapped the bread sticks and offered them to me.

“Go ahead. I know you can hardly wait to dig in,” he said with that gorgeous smile.

We ate in silence for a few moments when he asked the dreaded question I'd hoped to avoid.

“How did the visit go with Lena yesterday? You didn't mention it last night and I wondered about it.”

“She is lonely without Nate and her children aren't very supportive at this juncture. They feel she's headed into senility, or worse, and I couldn't judge whether they are right or wrong. Lena's oldest son, Angelo, stopped by while I was there. He filled me in on her memory gaps and said his siblings are concerned.” I somewhat lied by omission … so what? I was on the fast track to hell anyway, so I didn't have much to lose at this point.

His brown eyes studied me as I spoke. I knew he weighed my words and tried to figure out if I was lying. I had spoken the truth, just not all of it.

“Did Lena say anything about Nate's business?”

“Just that he was a rascal and a cheap bastard. Her words, not mine.” I smiled.

He chuckled and then said, “She sure put on a show at the funeral home. I was astounded, and in my business I shouldn't ever be surprised. People do strange things and have unbelievable reasons for doing so.”

On dangerous ground now, I glanced at him.

“You're right about that.” I then proceeded to share a past experience with him, embellishing it as I went along. Before long, Aaron was laughing and I'd managed to quell my guilt over lying to him.

“What's on your agenda for the rest of the day?” he asked.

“I'm not sure, but I thought I'd head to the art store in Providence to pick up some supplies later, if my knee feels better. I want to paint a gift for my mother for Christmas.”

“Anything special in mind?”

“Maybe a Leonardo DaVinci or Michael Angelo design with a Vinnie twist to it.” I laughed.

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