CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

 

My hands shook as I raised the dripping paper and pointed it at Mrs. Kester. The giant sunflower with the black furry spider hung limply in my hand.

"I knew it!" I cried.

Everyone at the table stared at me like I'd lost my mind. The surrounding tables didn't seem to notice. Maybe this kind of thing happened all the time around here.

Mrs. Kester pointed at me. "This is what I deal with on a daily basis. Rock star antics. Probably on drugs!"

Granddaddy gasped and jumped up from his chair. "You take that back! Diana ain't a druggie!"

Uncle Grover nodded, saying, "I know you don't get on well, but really, Edna, calling Diana a drug addict is rather harsh."

"I call 'em like I see 'em." She pointed a gnarled finger at me. "She's talking crazy, isn't she? Look at those wild eyes!"

They all leaned in to get a better look at my eyes. I tried to calm myself. Maybe it was just a coincidence that Mrs. Kester's picture had a big black spider on it. I took a deep breath.

Mrs. Kester snatched the ruined picture from me and stuffed it back into her giant purse. "I'd like to wait for my son to pick me up at your apartment, Grover. I'd prefer not to be in her company any longer."

Uncle Grover jumped up and helped Mrs. Kester out of her seat. "I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding," he murmured.

Mrs. Kester glared at me and turned on her heel.

"You know how to keep it lively, Queenie Baby," Granddaddy cackled. "Why'd you call her a spider? Not that she don't deserve it," he added.

I shook my head numbly. Across the room, a waving hand caught my attention. Mark! I left the table without a word and ran over to throw myself in his arms. My nerves were shot. Tears welled up in my eyes.

"Everything okay?" he murmured into my hair.

I sucked in his smell and shook my head. "No, just losing my mind. I accused Mrs. Kester of being The Spider."

Mark laughed. "She's not. I already checked."

I told him about the picture as The Grands shuffled over. He didn't seem concerned. "I think it's just a coincidence, Diana. But maybe Marsha and Andre can check in with the instructor. They'll be here in the morning posing as a couple looking for a place for an elderly parent."

The Grands greeted Mark. Granddaddy introduced him to Margaret who offered her hand, saying, "Your Diana is quite the character."

"It runs in the family," Mark replied.

They howled. Aunt Pearl said, "He's a keeper!"

I followed Mark out to his car to get Max and my bags. It was still warm and bright, so Mark suggested we let Max stretch his legs. We walked along the tree-lined road back towards the entrance. Mark brought me up to speed on his trip to Miami.

"I've got a flight out of Philly at midnight. The Organized Crime Unit is meeting with Sal Bonanno, and I've asked to be there."

I looked over in surprise. "Calling in more favors? At this rate you'll be back to working full-time for the CIA," I said glumly.

Mark ignored the reference to his employment status with the CIA. "I'm hoping they'll make him an offer he can't refuse. No charges and witness relocation if he gives up the hierarchy within this The Spider's organization. Organized Crime wants more on the Five Families. I think we've got a chance at him taking the deal if it focuses on the assassin ring instead of selling out The Families. I need to be there to make sure it happens."

"They'd actually let a hitman back on the street? He tried to kill me and he blew up your boat with Marsha and Andre on it. Is it really worth it to let him out?"

"It's the break we've been looking for, and I think this'll tip the scales in our favor. Sal Bonanno is our best chance, Diana. Other than him all we've got is Tyrell and some Alzheimer's patients serving life sentences. Not the most reliable sources." He turned to me and hugged me to him. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

The beeping and honking of a car broke up our embrace. An SUV screeched to a halt next to us, and my mother appeared at the window.

"What in the world are you doing here, Diana?" she asked. My step-father, Dave, waved from the passenger seat. He was a retired lawyer who was quite a bit older than my mom. He wore monogrammed Ralph Lauren golf shirts even though he rarely had time to actually golf as he spent most of his days riding shot-gun with my mom on her endless shopping trips.

"My condo's being fumigated, so I'm staying with The Grands for a couple of days," I replied, mentally crossing my fingers behind my back.

My mom gave me an appraising look. "And you didn't call me? We've got more room than The Grands. Are you making poor Mark stay with Granddaddy and Grover? 'Cause that's no way to keep a man, Diana. One night with those two, and he'll chew his leg off to get away."

Mark leaned in the window. "I'm leaving on business tonight. I was just stopping by on my way to Philly."

My mom sniffed the air. "Oh, my," she said huskily, "Diana's right, you do smell good."

I rolled my eyes. Mark laughed. "Thanks. I try."

She sniffed again, saying, "We're on our way to dinner. Would you like to join us? The food in that place is one step above TV dinners." My mom waved her French-manicured hand in the direction of The Grands' apartments.

We declined, but I accepted her offer of a home-cooked meal tomorrow night, anything to avoid another dinner of frozen fish and French fries.

"She's something else," Mark said as the SUV squealed away.

"Yep," I agreed, adding, "What about your parents? Don't they have any idiosyncrasies?"

"Not like yours," he said with a laugh. "My family's nowhere near as entertaining as yours, except maybe Ed."

Mark's Uncle Ed was definitely entertaining. Especially when he was with his trophy wife, Marcie, and her spoiled son, David.

"Well, I hope to meet the rest of your family soon." I glanced over, trying to read his reaction.

"Believe me, my mom asks me when we're coming down every time I talk to her. But I can't say 'Sure, Mom, as soon as we shake this hitman.'"

He had a point. "That wouldn't make a good first impression." I watched as Max peed on the same tree for the third time. "How are the plans for The Jetty coming?"

"I sent what I had to Mr. Simpson today and let him know I'd be out of town. Can't do much more until this gets resolved. Has Ashley checked your PO Box recently?"

I nodded. "I'm one step ahead of you. I sent her a text earlier. She picked everything up today from the post office. Some actual fan mail, but no scrapbook letters. And no new emails either." We turned and started walking back towards the apartment building. Mark helped me get my bags upstairs and bid goodbye to Aunt Pearl and Mammaw.

I walked him back to his car. "Don't take any chances," he said, pulling me close. "I'd give you a gun, but I don't have time to teach you how to use it. And I'd be worried you'd trip and shoot yourself in the foot or something."

I pulled back. "Hey, that's not fair. I'm not that clumsy."

He kissed my forehead but didn't recant his words. "Don't do anything without checking in with Andre and Marsha," he ordered.

I gave him a mock salute. He pulled me against him again and crushed his lips to mine. Hot desire swirled deliciously through my body.

"I'll be back tomorrow night." He gave me another kiss and climbed in his car. He waited for me to get back inside the apartment building before driving off.

I sighed as I climbed the stairs. When would my life be normal again?

 

*  *  *

 

I dodged breakfast with The Grands by hitting the gym. Not the best decision. I ended up hungry and depressed after the ninety-year old woman on the exercise bike next to me blew past me for the third time in the virtual race. Her cackles of, "Eat my dust, Chickie," didn't help the situation.

Andre called me on my cell as I was walking out to my car.

"Lookin' good for an ex-pirate."

I laughed and looked around. He waved to me from down the street. He was dressed like a tourist. "Nice outfit."

"Thought you'd like it. Come on down and give me a lift."

We hung up, and I drove over to pick him up.

"The ocean is south," I called as he got into the car.

"Yeah, yeah. The things I do for you."

"Has Marsha seen this?" I asked.

"Who do you think picked it out?" He pointed to the road that wound along the backside of The Meadows. "Take me on a little tour."

"So where's Marsha?" I turned the car around and headed down the tree-lined street.

"She's checking on the Hobby Shop right now. Mark gave us the run down on the picture Mrs. Kester made." Andre started laughing.

"It wasn't funny!" I insisted. "It was this big poofy sunflower with a fuzzy black spider hanging off it." I shuddered.

Andre pointed a finger to a building in front of us. "Pull in here and wait for her."

I did as he asked and turned off the engine. "I've got you where I want you. Details, please."

Andre pretended to be confused. I pinched his arm. "Come on. Out with it."

He held up his hands. "Okay, okay. I'm head over heels in love. Yes, she's mercurial, thorny, and will probably kill me in my sleep, but I love her, Diana."

"So this isn't some kind of fling?" Why was I feeling like this? A little off balance and sad. Surely I wasn't jealous. Andre and I had been over for a while. No, it was just the way he looked when he said it. Did Mark feel that strongly about me? Or better yet, did I feel that way about him?

It took me a second to realize that the brown-haired woman in the long prairie dress approaching the car was Marsha.

I rolled down the window. "Now, that's a good look for you."

"Not a word from you," she grumbled. "I traded a mountain chalet overlooking a river and a king bed with him," she said, nodding at Andre, "to come here and rescue you again."

Well, when you put it that way. "I'm truly grateful, Marsha. And I'm so happy you two have found love."

Marsha snorted. "Love? More like lust. You've seen him naked, right?"

That took me back. I looked over at Andre. He shrugged. "We're still working on her being head over heels."

Marsha leaned up. "Yeah, I'm happy with heels over head for the time being." She gave a tinkling laugh.

Ick. But Andre grinned back at her. "So what did you find out?"

Marsha sighed. "I told the Susie Sunshine hobby instructor that I'd seen one of the pictures they'd made yesterday in class. She brought out a big book of projects. And one of them was a sunflower with a spider. Case closed."

"Any other details on the instructor?" Andre asked.

Marsha pulled out a small notepad. "I ran her background with the other employees. Sherry Smithfield, thirty-one and single, employed at The Meadows part-time for a month, degree in Fine Arts, no criminal record, no psychological treatment that I could find. The only thing I don't know is where she was before here. I'm still waiting on that. She told me she'd come here from a nanny job in New Jersey." Marsha looked up from her book.

"The Five Families operate out of New Jersey," I reminded her. "That could be more than just a coin."

"They also operate out of Pennsylvania, New York, and Florida," Marsha said dismissively. "Not to mention New Jersey is located right next to Delaware."

"What's your gut on this place?" Andre asked steering away from an argument.

Marsha looked around. "Whoever The Spider or Spiders are they know she's here."

It was hard to hear someone else confirm my fears. I turned my head and looked out the window. Andre said, "We need to hold tight while Mark works things out in Miami. Sal Bonanno's the key. Until then, we've got four other bodyguards on site. All people I've worked with for years and trust. I want you to wear this." He fastened a bracelet around my wrist. "We can track you with our phones to within two feet of your location. There's also a panic button on the top. Just press it, and we'll know you're in trouble."

"When will this be over?" I leaned my head on the steering wheel.

Marsha patted my back. "Hey, look on the bright side: he hasn't gotten you yet. That's gotta be some kind of assassin record."