J.M. Griffin - Vinnie Esposito 06 - Death Gone Awry (19 page)

“Farnsworth is missing. I’m at the cemetery and he was at the top of the hill. He’s disappeared.”

“Hell, I’ll call you back,” he growled.

In the time I’d come to know Aaron Grant, he’d never lost his temper with me, had always been understanding when things went amiss, and had never growled at me in a fit of anger. I guessed there was always a first time for everything. Likely he was in the midst of FBI business, and I’d caught him off-guard.

I wandered toward the road leading to Silk Lane by way of the cemetery. A phone rang, it wasn’t mine, and I listened intently to see where the noise emanated from. It rang several times, stopped and began to ring again. I followed the sound and bent down when I found the small unit on the road leading away from the cemetery.

Slowly, I turned completely around, and peered into the trees at the house under the pines before moving forward. I stumbled over a pair of feet that protruded from beneath the bushes lined up inside the picket-fenced yard.

The groan that sprang from my mouth as I hit the ground, matched the one from Harry. His groans mixed with the jingling of the phone that continued to ring. The number was Aaron’s. I answered the call and said Farnsworth needed a rescue, but he was alive. Crouched next to Harry, I shook his shoulder and murmured his name. He slowly rolled over onto his back, opened his eyes a crack, and moaned again.

Chapter 19

“What the hell happened?” I demanded while checking him for injuries. At first glance, Harry didn’t appear wounded or bloody, and relief cheered me up while I stared at the man.

He closed his eyes again and then murmured, “I heard rustling in the trees and followed the noise. I turned to look at you and was struck from behind. Are you okay?”

“I am. I’m calling the rescue for you.”

“Don’t do that. You’ve got to have someone with you at all times. Give me a hand up.” Covered with wet grass, leaves, and smears of mud, Farnsworth took the hand I proffered. I yanked him to his feet, he wobbled a tad, and I reached out to steady him. That’s when I saw the blood and dialed 9-1-1 to request a rescue.

Insisting that I accompany my bodyguard, Bill MacNert gave in and allowed me to ride in the front seat of the truck, while Farnsworth was loaded into the rear of it. I rang Aaron and gave him an update. He said he’d be at the hospital waiting.

We rolled through traffic, sirens blaring, and I glanced back to see what was taking place in the rear of the truck. Medical techs had wrapped a bandage around Farnsworth’s head and were assessing his vital signs. I turned back to the front and kept my gaze forward after noticing bloodied pads of gauze on the floor near the stretcher. My lunch threatened to make a return visit and I fought the sensation.

Blood and I don’t get along, I’d found that out early in my childhood from skinned knees and a cut from a fall off my bicycle. The color of blood, the smell of copper that exuded from it, gave my stomach fits, and I avoided it as often as I could.

Our arrival at the hospital was met by a medical team, a crew of agents, and city cops. I stood out of the way watching the scene with an out-of-body kind of feeling. Aaron stood next to me, his arms folded.

“I’m sorry, Aaron. Whoever did this to Harry was looking for a way to get to me. After he knocked Harry out, he chased me through the burial grounds.”

“Did you see who it was?”

“I got a glimpse of him before I outdistanced the bastard. He was gray-haired, overweight, and couldn’t run to save his soul,” I said with a shaky grin.

His chuckle calmed my tattered nerves. When he laid his hands on my shoulders and gave them a squeeze, I noticed other agents glance at us. I moved away from Aaron and said I’d be right back with news of Harry if there was any.

The intake desk sat to my right as I entered the E.R. through the automatic doors. I smiled sweetly at the woman behind the computer and said I was Harry Farnsworth’s sister. She gave me a quick glance and said she’d call to see how he was. A minute later, I was told he’d been x-rayed, and was now in the midst of treatment for his laceration. I thanked her and reported the good news to Aaron and his fellow agents.

Feeling reassured Agent Farnsworth wasn’t dead and would recover, the crew pulled themselves together and went about their day. Aaron and I rode to Scituate in his Yukon SUV.

“Can your life get any more complicated, Vinnie?” he asked while we drove west.

“I certainly hope not, all this has become a real drag on my nerves,” I admitted. “The panic that surfaced when I noticed Harry was missing left me shaking like a leaf. I’m not used to fear, and it’s annoying.”

A grin crossed Aaron’s face as I explained how I’d searched for Harry and then had outrun the man who’d been sent for me.

“It’s the mob out of Boston, right?” I asked Aaron.

He glanced over, and then back to the road. “What makes you think the Boston mob has anything to do with the predicament you find yourself in?” Aaron asked.

We were close to home, and I said, “I’ll explain when we arrive at the house.”

The trip ended, and we sat in the living room with the fireplace turned on. A cold wind had settled over the village and flames from the fire filled the room with warmth.

Face-to-face we both sat leaning forward. We talked about the assault on Harry and how I figured the Boston mob was somehow entangled in the ongoing mystery of what had happened to Tim Slaggard, and why.

“You’ve worked it out nicely, Vin,” Aaron said with a smirk. “We were aware Slaggard was from Boston, his family has connections, but the trip to Italy is news to me.” His left brow hiked as he watched me.

I shrugged and mentioned he and his buddies should have a chat with Frankie Tomatoes and his wife, Marion.

“We spoke to Sarducci, but his wife was out of town for a day or two visiting her mother. He said he’d call us when she returned home.”

“I think Marion’s mother is no longer among the living. I’d heard someone mention it, though I can’t think who did so.” I racked my brain to remember, but the memory eluded me.

“No matter, we’ll look into it and move on from there. The Bureau is stymied by the lack of evidence, leads, or witnesses who might have seen Slaggard somewhere the day he went missing, or since then.” Aaron shook his head and then asked for a beer.

With a half-filled wine glass in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other, I sauntered into the living room. Lola sat in her favorite chair. She laughed at my surprised expression.

“I came in through the front door. Aaron saw me on the front walk.”

“I never heard the door open,” I said in surprise and handed her the wineglass.

“Thanks,” she said and took a sip.

I brought in another glass and the wine bottle, filled my glass half-way and snuggled into my corner of the sofa while Aaron took up the other corner and then some.

“Aaron said you’ve had another crazy day, huh?”

I nodded and said, “It’s been on my mind lately that a little mundane time in my life might be welcome for a change.”

Aaron laughingly interjected, “As if that would ever happen.”

“True, but it’s nice to contemplate the possibility anyway,” I answered with a chuckle.

“Well, I’m glad I’m not guarding you, Vinnie. Life becomes tumultuous around you and I’m all for a little peace and quiet during my days,” Lola commented and saluted me with her glass, gave me a wink and then took a sip of wine.

The room grew quiet, and Aaron stood up, thanked me for the beer, and answered his phone as he waved a farewell. As the sound of his footsteps faded away, I leaned toward Lola and whispered, “What was the wink for?”

“I spoke to Bobby today. He said they think they know where Tim has gone.” She wiggled in her seat, excited at the thought of him being found, at least I thought that was the reason for her enthusiasm.

With a gasp of disbelief, I asked, “Your brother willingly gave you that information? You didn’t have to twist his arm?”

Her soft laughter was followed by a sly look. “I cried over the phone and he gave up the news, just like I knew he would.”

“You little minx,” I said and laughed over the thought of her acting distraught over Tim’s disappearance. Or was it an act? I had to know.

“Was it simply an act or have you fallen for the handsome preacher?”

Hands up, Lola shoved the question away, followed by a wholehearted denial of her attraction for Tim. “He’s good-looking, yes, but he’s got a shady background that I want no part of, Vinnie. Imagine me, up close and personal with a mob family or something as awful as that. No thanks.”

My cell phone buzzed, I touched the answer button and listened as my father instructed me to immediately get in the car and drive to the Knights of Columbus Hall in Cranston. No body guards, no questions, just do as he said. I murmured my answer and heard the line go dead.

Why do people hang up without saying goodbye? It was rude, just plain rude, and left me wondering if there was more they wanted to say, but they’d decided against doing so. I shrugged, tucked the phone in my pocket and leaned toward Lola.

“We need to sneak out and go see my father. Right now, Lola,” I whispered.

Her dark eyes startled by my request, Lola nodded, trotted into the hallway to the front door, and said, “I’ll be seeing you in the morning, then?”

“Sure, thanks for coming by,” I answered and motioned that I’d meet her on the other side of the yard, away from the driveway. The upstairs apartment had no windows that overlooked the living room end of the house. Lola nodded, and I locked the door behind her when she left.

“Goodnight, Aaron,” I called.

A muffled answer reached me. I left the apartment door ajar, shut down all but the nightlight in the kitchen, and stuffed my pillows under the bedding so it appeared I’d gone to bed, even though it was early by my bedtime standards.

On tiptoes, I crept out of the bedroom, through the silently sliding French doors, and raced around the far corner of my house and down the street where Lola’s car idled. Her lights were off and the car ran quietly. I yanked the passenger door open, hopped in, and we took off.

The ride to Cranston was fast and furious. Lola’s Cooper careened around corners and bounced over the back roads from Scituate, through Johnston, and finally to my father’s card playing hang-out in Cranston. I gave Lola a wide-eyed glance when we skidded to a halt in the street.

“Have you been practicing to drive in a Nascar race?” I wondered aloud.

“You’d think so, right?” Lola responded and giggled. “It must be important if your father has ordered you here and you’ve complied without telling Aaron. God forbid he finds out what we’ve done.” She held up her crossed fingers and I did the same.

“Come on, let’s go inside, my curiosity has nearly run off a cliff. I have to hear what my father has to say.” Together, we hurried up the walk and through the double-doors.

Soft light glowed in the carpeted hallway of the K of C building that spread out in a bunch of directions. I glanced around, saw no one about, and reluctantly strode forward with sharp eyes peering into every shadowy nook we passed. Lola kept pace, but tiptoed as we moved through the building. Sounds of laughter reached us and we stopped to listen, and then we both peeked around the edge of the open door.

Three men sat close, playing cards with my father. From the look of the pile of cash in front of him, I’d say my father was on a winning streak. I wished I was, and then waved as Dad caught sight of us lingering near the door.

With an uttered apology, my father motioned us forward and introduced us to his friends. We did the necessary greetings and murmured how happy we were to meet these guys. My father took me by the arm, turned to Lola and said to his buddies, “She’ll play cards with you until I return. No cheating, understand?” He laughed at their denials and winked at Lola. We both knew she could card shark with the best of them.

I pitied these guys, because if it took Dad and me a while, she’d have their money, watches, and possibly IOUs, as well.

Dad and I stepped into an enormous kitchen at the rear of the building. I gawked at the long stainless steel counters and worktables, and gazed at the amazing stove. An army could be fed from that stove.

“Lavinia,” Dad said.

“What?” I answered as I stopped gaping about and brought my attention round to him.

He motioned to a couple of stools near the worktable. By the time I’d taken a seat across from my father, my nerves had begun to hum like a tightened guitar string.

“Here I am, now what’s so important that you couldn’t tell me over the phone?” I asked.

“Your boy is nearby. Don’t worry, he’s safe.”

My boy, huh? He must mean Tim. “He’s not my boy, but I’m glad he’s all right. How did he get there, and who took him?”

With a wave of his hand and a one-shouldered shrug, my father said, “That’s not important. What is important is that you won’t be bothered any further. Stay out of Mr. Slaggard’s life, leave the church goers to themselves, and mind your own business.”

“Really? Just like that, I’m supposed to mind my own business and forget about what’s happened to Tim Slaggard? What about Aunt Josephine, huh? What if she’s taken unfair advantage of, huh? What then?” I asked. A storm had started to brew between us. I could tell by the expression on my father’s face and heard it in my own voice. I stepped off the stool and glared.

“Lavinia, do as I ask, and all will be fine,” Dad urged.

Angrily, I paced the floor. “Dad, I had no intention of ever interfering with Slaggard. He kept showing up at my house like a misplaced penny. Each time he was in worse shape than the time before. Someone wants him dead, hell his death’s gone awry twice, the third time around might not find him so lucky.”

“That has nothing to do with you,” Dad insisted. “He’s in good hands, you shouldn’t worry about him, and I never told you this, understand?”

“How do you know I won’t be bothered again? I had an episode earlier this afternoon where I had to outrun some jerk who’d attacked my bodyguard. What about that?”

“It’s been taken care of. Your agent is fine, he’s going to recover and the man who chased you will no longer be a resident of Rhode Island. That’s all I can say, Lavinia.”