My mouth was as dry as a piece of unbuttered toast. Everyone gathered around me to read the message, then their gazes automatically moved to my face.
"Oh no," Gianna murmured.
"Oh yes," Brian shot back.
Mrs. Gavelli gave him an incredulous look. "I no snoop. I never snoop."
"You lie, old woman," Grandma Rosa retorted. "But that message was not meant for you."
Mrs. Gavelli wagged a bony finger in my face. "What this mean? You set my house on fire, missy?"
"This isn't Sal's fault, Nicoletta," Gianna said. "She didn't want to be involved in the search for Eddie's killer in the first place." She narrowed her eyes at our father. "Sal was dragged into this."
"It's my guess whoever did this got the houses mixed up," Brian cut in.
My father threw up his hands in protest. "But Sal was happy to do it. She always helps everyone. Baby girl, why didn't you say something?"
"She did try to tell you." Mike's face was stern. "I believe I know what you're getting at, Jenkins. You think that someone is threatening Sal, and to get even with her, they decided to cause destruction to her parents' house. Only they picked the wrong one."
Brian nodded solemnly. "Exactly." His phone beeped, and he stared down at the screen. "Sally and Mike, I sent Adam over to check on your house. He said that everything looks fine. I'm almost one hundred percent convinced this incident has to do with Eddie Phibbins' murder. Unless, of course, you're working on another case I don't know about?"
I wasn't in the mood for Brian's sarcasm. Furious, I squared my shoulders against him. "No. I'm not. And for your information, I've been trying to stay out of this, but now it looks like I don't have a choice."
Mike groaned and sank wearily into a chair. "Great. I knew this was going to happen. Someone's made this personal, Sal. Why does it always happen to you?"
The room was silent as we all mulled his question over. No one appeared to have an answer.
My father took a sip from his coffee, frowned, and then added more anisette. "It's her fate. Hey, we all have one, right? Mine is to study death in all mannerisms. No big deal, son. It's not like Sal has been going around bothering people. We only made a little visit to Wally's house today after my breakfast meeting with Arthur. Then Sal and Josie chatted with Charlene, the cosmetologist. Nothing to worry about."
I loved my father dearly but wished that he would stop talking. Mike's eyes flashed angry blue sparks as my father continued rambling. Dad always had a knack for saying the wrong thing at the right time.
Brian placed his hands on his slim hips. "Wally is the guy that Eddie fired for stealing from him, correct? Domenic, why would you go to see him and meet with Arthur when he's at odds with his brother, one of your good friends?"
"Is there no end?" Mike wanted to know.
My father gave Brian a noncommittal look. "Arthur asked for me personally. He wants to advertise on my blog when he buys the funeral home from Linda. He's positive she'll sell it to him."
A vein bulged in Brian's neck. "How interesting. Is there anyone else that you and your daughter have talked to? Might as well enlighten me now."
"No one," I cut in.
"Sal's right." Dad helped himself to more tiramisu. "Oh, wait a second. You and Josie talked to Zach, right? That old bugger is as dedicated to the place as you can get."
Cookie was fussing, so Mike lifted her out of her bouncy seat. "I think she needs to be changed," he said to no one in particular. Before I could say anything, he headed upstairs with the baby.
All I wanted to do right now was scream in frustration. Mike was furious, that was plain to see, and I honestly couldn't blame him. I'd dug myself a shallow grave so to speak and didn't know how to get out. Good grief. Now I was coming up with puns too.
Nicoletta finished her drink and rose, pointing a finger at Brian. "So if I no go home, what I gonna do?"
"Stay with Ronald," Johnny said quickly as he poured himself a glass of wine. He glanced at Gianna, who was finishing her third one, and then sighed and pushed his glass in front of her. Someone needed to drive home, and she was in no shape for it. We all knew what was coming next.
Mrs. Gavelli's eyes widened in amazement at she looked at her grandson. "Shame on you. What you think, I some tramp? We no married. I stay with you and Gianna."
The entire room went silent, waiting for Johnny to respond. My sister raised Johnny's glass of wine to her lips and then glared at him, waiting for him to say something—anything. The tension in the room was so thick you could have cut it with Grandma Rosa's antique cake server. Having Nicoletta under the same roof as Gianna was like striking a match against the side of a box.
Johnny's face turned a brilliant shade of crimson. "Um, maybe you'd rather stay here, Gram, with the Muccios. I mean, you'd be right next to your own home, if you need anything." He gave my parents a pleading look. "Dom, Maria, you've got plenty of room, right?"
"Nope." My father shook his head cheerfully. "Not for the spawn of Satan."
Nicoletta shook her fist at him. "I no want to stay here with this pazza anyway."
"Domenic's not crazy." My mother reached out to run a hand over my father's balding head. "He's so sexy and intelligent. Why, I never know what he's going to do next."
Gianna almost spilled her glass of wine while Johnny suppressed a cough. If there was ever a couple who was perfectly matched for each other, it had to be my parents. They both lived in a fairy tale world.
"It a wonder that Rosa still sane. Everyone here is pazza." Nicoletta grabbed her handbag off the table and shook it menacingly at Johnny. "I be in your car," she said. "You no keep me waiting."
Gianna gritted her teeth together as Johnny removed Alex from the high chair and put his coat on him. Alex waved bye-bye as Gianna poked Johnny in the arm. "Why didn't you tell her no?" she asked. "You know that she's impossible to live with! No one knows that better than you!"
Johnny lifted Alex in his arms and stared back at her. "What else is she supposed to do? Go to a hotel?"
"No hotel would have that old broad," my father declared as he chewed his cake.
Gianna's shoulders slumped in defeat, and after a moment, she grabbed her purse. "Fine. But she better not try to order me around!"
"You're a dreamer, my precious girl," Dad laughed.
"Domenic," my mother said gently. "I think you should stay out of their discussion."
Gianna picked up the diaper bag and whirled to face my father. "And as for you, Dad," she hissed. "You should have let the police handle the investigation. Now, because you insisted that Sal snoop into Eddie's death, you have Mike upset with her and the Sicilian version of the Wicked Witch of the West staying in my house. Will I ever get any peace?"
"Hmm," my father mused. "Just slip a little Benadryl in her drink, sweetheart. It will knock her out for a few hours."
Johnny touched Gianna's arm. "It's just for a few days, sweetheart."
Gianna leaned down to give me a hug. "Hang in there, Sal. Mike will understand."
Too bad I lacked her confidence. "Never mind about me. What are you going to do?" I wasn't sure who had it worse right now, me or Gianna.
"Say a prayer for me," Gianna whispered in my ear.
"That you survive?" I asked.
"No. That I don't kill her."
* * *
I bathed Cookie when we got home and then nursed her. For once, luck was on my side, and she fell asleep quickly. An evening with my parents was exhausting at any age.
After I'd laid Cookie down in her crib, I went into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. I glanced sideways into our adjoining bedroom. Mike was lying in bed shirtless, watching television, a can of beer on the nightstand beside him. His gaze met mine, and after staring at me for at least a minute with no comment, he returned his attention to the television. I shut the door to the bathroom and gripped the sides of the basin with a sinking feeling. Somehow, I needed to make this right and let him know I hadn't intended for this to happen. But how?
The red nightgown was still hanging on the back of the bathroom door, lonely and forgotten. I'd never gotten a chance to put it on the other night. With a sigh, I quickly undressed and slipped it over my head then shut off the bathroom light and went into our bedroom. As soon as I got into bed, Mike clicked off the television then rolled onto his side, away from me.
The action stung like a wasp, and I reached out to touch his shoulder. Thankfully, he didn't pull away. "Please don't be mad at me, sweetheart. I didn't mean for things to wind up like this."
He didn't answer.
I leaned over him so that I could see his face. "Will you please look at me when I'm talking to you? Don't shut me out."
Mike gave a sigh and flopped onto his back, pinning his dark blue eyes on me. "Okay, Sal. Tell me why I should listen when you don't give me the same courtesy?"
I tried to blink back tears but was unsuccessful. "Mike," I blubbered. "I'm so sorry. My father asked me to help him. How would you feel if a friend of yours was killed like that? I had no idea it would turn into this, but I couldn't tell him no."
A tear dripped off my chin as Mike watched. "Come here," he said gruffly and pulled me against his chest.
I continued to sob as he wrapped his arms around me. "I'm sorry."
"No, princess. I'm the one who's sorry. I didn't mean to be such a jerk. But you've got to understand where I'm coming from. I'm sick and tired of seeing you always caught up in dangerous situations. Cookie needs you." His voice was soft against my hair. "And so do I."
I wiped at my eyes. "I don't know how to get out of this. All I wanted to do was help, and now it's backfired on me. If we don't find who did this, maybe something else will happen—to you or Grandma Rosa this time—"
"Stop it," he said gently. "Listen to me, baby." He wiped underneath my eyes with the pad of his thumb. "Let's see if we can figure this out together. You must be getting too close to the truth and have talked to the killer. Who can you narrow it down to?"
"In my opinion?" I sniffled. "Either Linda, Arthur, Wally, or Charlene." Zach crossed my mind, but I didn't feel his name was worth mentioning.
He ran his hands up and down my bare arms. "I wish I could fix this, but I know you won't back off now."
"I can't," I said in a choked-up voice.
Mike sat up in bed and placed his arms around me. "This happens far too often, Sal. I don't know why or if I can ever learn to accept it. Cookie needs a mother."
"She loves you more." The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.
He watched me in amazement. "Where is this coming from?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "She cries whenever I hold her but smiles for you all the time. She even looks just like you. It sounds crazy, but maybe I'm a little jealous."
He barked out a laugh. "Sal, you're her mother. She wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. Don't you ever notice the way her eyes light up when you walk into the room?"
Mike's eyes were shining, and my heart melted into a puddle. Cookie did look at me the same way, with the same beautiful eyes that I never tired of seeing. "Maybe I didn't make the connection before."
He smiled tenderly into my eyes. "She's not smiling at you like that because of gas, or because she's hungry, princess. It's because she loves you. Same as me. You two are the most important people in my life."
Tears started to gather in my eyes again. "Same here."
Mike sighed heavily. "I love how you put everyone else before your own needs. You make the world a better place and are the kindest and sweetest woman alive. But I have a confession to make. Some days I get tired of your family interfering in our lives. Well, except for your grandmother. I swear that woman is a saint."
"I wish I was more like her." Grandma Rosa always gave sound advice and knew how to fix everyone's problems. "Lately I feel so overwhelmed by everything and that I can't take proper care of Cookie, the bakery, or even you."
He gave me a teasing smile. "All in that order?"
I swatted his arm playfully. "You know what I mean."
Mike glanced at my nightgown and whistled. "Well, that's a good way to start taking care of me. You look gorgeous."
The way Mike looked at me when he said those words instantly made me feel better. He wouldn't care if I'd had a complete makeover or was wearing baby spit-up on my shirt. Mike loved me unconditionally, and that was all that mattered. "I've been neglecting you."
"It's okay, my love." He looked at me hopefully. "We both have a lot on our plates right now and need to spend more time with each other. Maybe even do a date night every week. But we're definitely having more alone time, starting this minute."
"Sounds good to me." I pushed him down onto his back and kissed him with renewed force. He chuckled and ran his hands through my hair.
"I do love it when you're feisty." He grinned. "Things will work out. We love each other, and that's what counts. You're an amazing mother to Cookie, and I'll help in any way that I can."
"That's why I adore you, Mr. Donovan." I pecked his lips.
"And I love you more than you'll ever know." Mike's expression turned serious as he gazed into my eyes. "Remember, it could always be worse."
His words sent a chill through me. "You mean, like being a suspect in a murder?" I didn't wish that on anyone.
"More horrible than that."
I drew my eyebrows together, wondering where he was going with this. "Being the victim?"
Mike grinned at me wickedly. "Nope. Not even close."
"I give up."
He chuckled. "You could be Gianna, and have Nicoletta living with you."
"Oh, so true." I wrapped my arms around him as he placed a trail of kisses down my neck. "It doesn't get much worse than that."