J.M. Griffin - Vinnie Esposito 06 - Death Gone Awry (6 page)

Upon entering, I made the rounds of all the displays. Angela had a flair for decorating. The entire shop looked like a spring garden, flora filled the nooks and crannies. From framed pictures to print handbags and gardener’s hats, colors flashed bright and beautiful, sucking the consumer deeper and deeper into the store.

I heard Angela’s sales pitch long before I saw her. A few women browsed, sniffing fragrances imported from France, before joining their friends in the second half of the shop to listen to Angela. I stepped back, out of sight, until she was finished. She handed the merchandise and the shoppers over to Gianna and joined me near the rear windows.

“Vinnie,” she exclaimed, “it’s great to see you. We’re having a wonderful day here in the shop. I can’t believe the amount of customers we’ve had.”

“That’s good news,” I answered with a smile. Drawing Angela aside, I whispered to her. “Keep an eye on my mother, will you? I’m sure she’ll want to leave a bit early today. Let her go, if you can.”

An inscrutable expression crossed Angela’s face as she nodded. I smiled, gave her arm a squeeze, and waved goodbye to my mother who had caught sight of us whispering.

Traffic sped past and foot traffic was nil. I strolled toward the car when I heard footfalls behind me. My arm was suddenly grasped by a strong, heavy hand that propelled me toward the recessed doorway of a closed store. Without a chance to see who’d accosted me, I was shoved hard against the wooden door frame and held tight.

A man’s harsh voice rasped in my ear as he pushed me deeper into the recessed space. “Next time, mind your own business, it’ll be healthier for you, know what I’m sayin’? You shoulda let the bastard drown.”

It took time for me to react. By then it was too late. I’d lost any advantage I’d had of kicking the shit out of this guy, but I could still do some damage. Peeling his thumb back from the hold he had on me, I heard him grunt in pain. I bent it backward farther still, until the man swore. He gave me another hard shove and let go of me. His footsteps echoed on the pavement as he raced away.

I rushed out of the entry, looked up and down the street for my assailant, and slumped back against the column in the entry when I didn’t find the culprit. Brushing back my hair, I straightened my jersey and stepped away from the column as if I had every right to be there in the first place.

This part of South Main Street in Providence is part of a historic district. Back in the day, shipping magnates owned the waterfront and the slave trade. Alleyways cut through from South Main to other streets and haphazardly crisscrossed one another, making it impossible for me to catch sight of the creep who’d manhandled me.

Disheartened and annoyed, I slid behind the steering wheel of my car and drove home. I expected to hear from my mother later in the day about Aunt Josephine. Sometimes it rots to be right.

I’d finished grading submissions my students had posted to the website I’d set up when the phone rang. My mother’s voice whined across the line. It was apparent she’d let my revelation stress her to the max.

“Your aunt just left, and to be frank, I think she’s lost her freakin’ mind.”

My mother never used the word ‘freakin.’ Coming from her, it meant there had to have been a major issue with Josephine.

“I guess you didn’t get very far then?” I asked.

“Lavinia, she told me to mind my own business. She said she knew what she was doing, and the house and property were hers to handle as she liked. Imagine? She wouldn’t even explain why she felt the need to leave her own religion and follow this new one. I am so beside myself right now, you just can’t imagine.”

My mother was wrong, I could imagine, and did so. There was more to this than Aunt Jo was telling. How had she gotten involved with Slaggard? Why? When? Where, and through whom? All these questions raced through my head as I listened to my mother rant on about her sister.

“Does Aunt Muffy know about this?” I asked.

A sharp intake of breath met my question. Mom answered me on a rush of air.

“I don’t know if I should tell her. You know Muffy would tear her up one side and down the other.” Mom paused. “I’ll have to give this some thought. I don’t even know if I should tell your father.”

Gino Esposito was not the most religious man in the world, but he did tend toward tradition. The fact that my aunt had taken up with another church might not shatter his world, but Tim Slaggard would need to be above-board and legit for acceptance of any kind from my dad. How had this happened?

After Mom finished mumbling over Aunt Josephine’s stupidity, she said we’d talk later, and abruptly hung up.

Chapter 6

The house seemed ever so empty now that Aaron had gone to Washington, or wherever. I never knew if he was telling me the truth concerning his whereabouts, I just took his word for it. Knowing it didn’t matter what I said, he would stand firm and keep the information to himself.

I climbed the stairs and entered his apartment. It was eerily quiet and I shivered for a second. That evening Monica Heartworthy would move in. I smiled at the thought of having a tarot reader and seer in residence. If nothing else, life wouldn’t be dull. Not that my life is ever dull or mundane, God forbid.

I set the heat on low, locked the door behind me, and ran down the staircase. As I closed my apartment door, bumps and thumps brought me back into the hall.

Monica glanced up from her place on the floor and gave me a wide smile. “Could you give me a hand, Vinnie?” she asked with a chuckle.

The moving box had opened from the bottom, splaying all and sundry across the floor. With a smile, I helped her pack it up, fold the box securely, and then I lugged it up the narrow staircase for her.

“You should really bring your belongings in through the front door. The staircase is wider and the hallway is easier to manage. I’ll unlock the door and help you,” I offered.

“Great, that’s so nice of you, Vinnie.” Monica set the suitcase down and breathed hard from the climb up the steps. “That’s a wicked staircase, Vin.”

“I know, I keep thinking I might do something about having it changed, but just haven’t gotten around to it. Just use the front entrance.” From the living room, I skipped down the front stairs and swung the wide oak door open.

A bit later, we’d brought Monica’s remaining luggage into Aaron’s apartment and I was about to leave her to get settled when I turned to watch as Monica wandered through the apartment. She whirled and moved back toward me as though walking on air. Yeah, hers would be a unique stay.

“So, what do you think?” I asked.

“This is great. Aaron won’t mind?” Her ethereal appearance gave me pause. I’d never quite understood Monica’s talents, but I certainly had accepted them.

“He doesn’t mind at all. He was happy that someone would be in the building with me,” I assured her.

“You do have a penchant for finding trouble, don’t you?” Monica asked in her dreamlike voice.

“It finds me without my trying,” I said. My cell phone, tucked away inside my pocket, rang. I peered at the number and said, “I’ll leave you to it, Monica. The extra key is on the kitchen counter.”

My mother was on the line and I knew she might have more information for me about Josephine. I scurried down the steps while listening to her ramble on about my aunt. I tried to make sense of what she said, but she was on a roll and there would be no interrupting her. When there was a slight pause, I jumped into the conversation.

“Mom, slow down. I don’t understand what you’re saying,” I said. “I take it you had another chat with Jo and it didn’t go the way you thought it would. Now what?”

“Lavinia, I’m very upset. She won’t listen to reason, and she’s completely under this man’s spell, and thinks he is the next coming of Christ. Good heavens, how gullible can she be? Father Perruti will have a fit if he finds out.”

Father Perruti was an old dragon from my days of catechism with my brother, Giovanni. A staunch believer in the old ways, he still recited the sermon in Latin. I smirked at the thought of his reaction to my aunt’s abandonment.

“Did you ask her again if she’d given her money to Preacher Slaggard?” I asked.

My mother groaned and then said, “She hasn’t signed over any real estate to him, but she’s given his church a lump sum to help build the ministry. Lavinia, what am I to do about this? Jo feels she has seen the light, but I think it’s just the sun’s glare in her eyes. Josephine isn’t always the brightest bulb in the box, you know. She’s been that way most of her life.”

The stress in my mother’s voice had deepened. I pictured her slugging down a glass of wine followed by a chunk of her latest pastry creation. Reassuring her that I would look into Slaggard’s dealings, I hung up.

A car stopped at the curb out front and a car door slammed. Within seconds, a knock sounded on the front door. Most everyone who knew me came to the side door of the house, unless it was business or a stranger, then the front door was used. I scrambled to see who was on the doorstep, but I couldn’t get a look. There was no peep-hole in the door and the person stood out of view of the side windows.

Reluctant to open up, I asked, “Who is it?”

“Tim Slaggard. The man Ms. Esposito rescued yesterday.”

Swinging the heavy door open, I saw a much healthier Tim Slaggard on the step. We were eye to eye. His dark gaze took me in from head to toe and I gave him the same treatment.

A bandage covered the stitches on his head. He had brown hair and his hawk-like features were sharp and prominent, though they softened when he smiled. Dark eyes fringed with thick lashes were tucked below neat eyebrows and tiny lines reached outward from the corners. On a woman they’re called crow’s feet. Men get away with it and are said to look sophisticated. Balderdash.

“You must be Lavinia Esposito?” His voice held a rich timber and his teeth gleamed when he smiled.

“I am.” I motioned for him to enter. “Come in, it’s quite drafty out there.”

We sat in the living room and I watched as he settled comfortably on the sofa. I took one of the high-back chairs across from him, nearer to the fireplace.

“You look a whole lot better today than you did yesterday, Mr. Slaggard. I hope you aren’t suffering any after-effects of your, uh, accident.” I watched him intently. His expression never faltered, and his eye contact was superb. This man knew how to work a crowd, there was no doubt in my mind.

“It was a difficult day, and I’d like to thank you for coming to my aid, Ms. Esposito.”

“You were fortunate that I was at the cemetery. Whatever were you doing out on the reservoir?”

His face gave nothing away. I watched him with keen attention, hoping to find a chink in his façade.

With an off-hand gesture, he said, “I was taking in the fresh air and communing with God. That location is perfect for it, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I never really thought of it that way.”

“Why were you there?” he asked in a soft tone.

“Visiting the dead, of which you were one, until I brought you back,” I responded bluntly.

Watch yourself, he’s a smooth character
, my inner voice warned.

I stared down at my hands for a moment and tried to quiet my inner voice.
Just shut the hell up, already
.

His features stiffened for a mere second, his eyes gleamed, but not with humor, with something else. What? I couldn’t tell.

“You’re very forthright, Ms. Esposito. But then, your aunt did tell me you were. She’s a very sweet woman, isn’t she?”

The hairs on the back of my neck buzzed to attention. What was he about? What was he inferring other than Aunt Jo was nice, which was true?

Don’t play his game.

Where is that shut-off button when you need it most?

“Aunt Jo is a terrific person. She’s generous to a fault, as well. Where did you two meet?” I asked.

“She attended a sermon with a lady friend of hers.” Tim tapped his lips in thought, and then added, “Mrs. Sarducci, that’s who it was. Josephine came in with Marion Sarducci. Do you know her?”

With a slight shake of my head, I said, “Never had the pleasure. Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Slaggard?”

“Tea would be perfect, if it’s not too much trouble,” he answered with a dip of his head.

“Sure. I’ll be right back.” I raced to the kitchen, put a glass container of water in the microwave, hit the timer and set out a tray with a teapot along with cups and saucers. By the time the buzzer sounded, the tray was ready.

“Here we are,” I said and set the tray on the coffee table in front of him. After I poured hot water into his cup, Slaggard dipped a teabag and waited for it to steep. I did the same and took my former seat.

“Have you spoken with your aunt?” Slaggard wondered aloud.

“Not today. I have a call in to her and will try to get together with her tomorrow afternoon sometime. Why do you ask?”

“She’s part of our congregation building committee and has mentioned she’d like to invite you and your family to an informal gathering we have every now and then where we introduce ourselves to others.”

“Would that be in hope that you’ll gather more members for your flock?”

His laughter was genuine, as was his sense of humor. “One always hopes to increase followers of the Lord.”

“What’s the date of this party? I’ll have to check my schedule and speak with my parents, and my grandmother, of course.”

“Of course,” he said blithely. “The party is set for Thursday evening of next week.” Slaggard set his half empty cup on the tray and stood up.

I did the same and accompanied him into the front hall. When I opened the door and stepped aside, he handed me a card and said, “Please, feel free to call me at any time whatsoever. I’d enjoy showing you around our church so you’ll be more comfortable with the idea of your aunt’s participation in our ministry.”

I took the card, read it, and then tucked it into my pocket. “Thanks, I’ll be in touch.”

“Again, thank you for coming to my rescue.”

I gave him a nod and held the door while he stepped onto the front walk. Aware of his ability to turn attention away from himself and toward the church, I wondered if he was indeed as bad as some people thought he might be. An investigation into this man loomed on my horizon. I could feel it in my bones.