It seemed like hours before the security guard showed up, but really, only a matter of minutes had passed. I just wanted to know if the man was dead or alive—not be taken in to see him, for God’s sake. Just tell me what I want to know. My snarky mood shifted into a dangerously snarky mood. If I got caught here by Aaron, Marcus, or the police, I would be in more trouble than even I thought possible.
The overweight security guard ambled toward me as I glanced up. His girth hung over the belt of his pants, swaying as he trudged along. Thin gray hair and floppy jowls caused me to believe he was around sixty-something in years. I stood up and waited for him. When our eyes locked, he stopped short and crooked a finger for me to follow him. Yes indeed, he was not only portly and old, but rude as well. Who could ask for more, I wondered?
Within seconds, I caught up to the man. He mumbled something about the corridor to the left. I walked alongside him until we turned the corner. Two brutes stood outside the door of a room halfway down the hall.
“Are these men cops?” I questioned the security officer. All I got was a shrug and a head shake for an answer. My anxiety heightened with every step.
The first man stared at me with dark eyes in an expressionless face. I figured he never had an expression because it takes brains to have an expression and those who involve themselves with the mob certainly fall short in the brains department. He stepped forward as I came closer. His beefy hand came up, and I stopped short.
“This here is Mr. Jabroni’s daughter,” the security man said. “She has permission to see her father.”
Flat brown eyes stared at me for a minute. He surely knew Jabroni wasn’t my father and opened his mouth to speak. Before he could say anything at all, a call for a crash cart and trauma team to respond to Jabroni’s room number came over the intercom. Suddenly, the hallway filled with running people who swept us all aside to enter Tony’s room.
I slipped away from the security guard and sneaked into the room before the bodyguards stepped to the open doorway to watch the team in action. I heard the doctor murmur that Jabroni was gone and pronounced the time of death. In shock, I stared at the dead body on the bed. He was dead. Really dead—cold moon dead. Shit.
Medical people milled around, nurses cleaned up debris from used supplies, and then the room emptied. The doctor approached me and offered his condolences. I nodded as though this was for real before I went to Jabroni’s bedside.
The man’s skin was pale. He appeared to be asleep, except that his chest didn’t rise and fall. It just lay still and silent. I shivered and turned to stare at the two guards.
One of them asked. “Whatcha doin’ here?”
“I was concerned about Tony and wanted to make sure he was all right,” I lied. I had been nosy and simply wanted to know if the man had kicked the bucket. Now I knew.
“You better get the hell outta here. The cops will be all over this place in minutes.”
“Right. Thanks for not telling the security guard that I wasn’t his daughter.”
All he said was, “Get moving.”
Within minutes, I was in the car. I had just started the motor when I saw a woman resembling Mrs. Jabroni leave the hospital. Her furtive movements caught my attention. I watched her round the corner at the end of the trauma entrance and disappear. It piqued my interest to think this person, who resembled the mobster’s wife, had been in the hospital when her husband’s life had ended. Why hadn’t she come forward?
The engine idled. I shifted into drive. The car slowly rolled from the parking spot. I turned down the street, in the direction of the woman. I made the corner in time to see her climb into the passenger side of a car. The street was too dark to see the make or color of the vehicle that waited under a tree near the sidewalk. I slowed to a mere crawl. Mrs. Jabroni’s car sped away and turned down a side street. It disappeared before I could catch up.
Instead of searching the neighborhood for her, I turned toward home, driving through the back streets of Providence. It seemed a good idea to avoid an encounter with the FBI or police cruisers, whose sirens could be heard in the distance. I was certain they would want to see for themselves that Jabroni was finished.
What had happened to Mrs. Jabroni during the evening? Where had she disappeared to? Jabroni’s illegitimate son, Duarte, had been absent from the opening . . . that also seemed odd. The questions would go unanswered for now, as exhaustion settled over me like a heavy mantle. The clock on the dashboard read eleven o’clock.
Within minutes, I had reached the village and parked in the empty driveway. Aaron hadn’t arrived yet. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wasn’t waiting on the doorstep to interrogate me about why it had taken so long to reach home and where I had been in the meantime.
After I entered my apartment, I tossed my coat onto a nearby chair and slipped the high-heeled shoes off my feet. I poured a splash of wine into a goblet and turned up the flames in the gas fireplace. All the while my mind traveled over the evening’s events like the replaying of a movie reel.
Mrs. Jabroni had been accompanied to the gallery by a man I had never seen before. He was a man known to Tony Jabroni since there wasn’t any obvious friction over the fact that his wife had an escort. It seemed strange that Mrs. Jabroni was with a stranger most of the time, instead of being with her husband. But then again, Gilda and Jabroni only had eyes for each other. Surely Mrs. Jabroni hadn’t missed that?
I shook my head and tried to stay on track, placing everyone where I had last seen them before Lola entered the restroom corridor. In truth, I hadn’t really been watching everyone all the time. If I had, maybe Jabroni wouldn’t be dead.
Don’t blame yourself. It isn’t your fault that the mob boss got iced. The voice inside my head was at it again. For once, I listened. Just because you were there doesn’t mean it was your responsibility to cover everybody’s movements. That’s why the FBI was in attendance, was it not?
“Okay, okay,” I mumbled out loud. “I get the point.”
The outer door slammed. Pounding commenced on the apartment door. I strode into the kitchen and asked who was there.
“Aaron. Open up.”
His voice sounded ominous, his mood cranky, and I was sure that he’d come to tell me that Jabroni was dead.
I unlocked the door and ushered Aaron inside. A rush of cold air followed him. The hallway had no heat and the temperature had dropped since I’d arrived home. I shivered, but wasn’t sure if it was from the chill—or fear.
“Why are you still up?” he demanded.
“Because I’m a big girl now who can decide for herself when to go to bed,” I answered with a snide attitude. “Why are you so cranky?” As if I didn’t know.
“Let’s see,” he said as he tapped his lips with the fingers on his right hand, “there was a murder tonight, you and Lola are suspects, and you didn’t return home straightaway as I requested. Shall I continue?” he asked with raised brows and a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
“That would tend to put a person out of sorts.” I waved my glass of wine toward him and he nodded.
“Sure, I’ll have a glass. Whiskey would be better, but wine will do if that’s all you have.” He leaned against the wall, watching as I hunted through the lower cabinet in search of the only bottle of whiskey I owned. Jack Daniels sloshed into the heavy glass and I handed it to him. He followed me into the living room and settled near the fireplace, swirling the amber liquid in the tumbler.
“Damn this fire feels good. By the way, Porter took Lola home,” Aaron said, sipping the rich liquid. He slouched farther down into the soft chair cushions. “Why didn’t you do as I asked?”
I hesitated over his question. Finally I said, “I wanted to see if Jabroni had croaked.” Now was not the time to lie if Aaron’s lousy mood was any indicator of his aggravation.
“Did you see his wife while you were there?” His serious gaze was steady as he stared at me over the rim of the glass.
“It’s strange you should ask––”
His choked cough interrupted me. “Don’t tell me, you had another adventure at the hospital, right?”
“Kind of, but not really. It was more of a mystery.”
“Make sense before I throttle you.”
Any humor he might have had left him completely, and I knew better than to joke around.
“Then let me tell you what happened.” I quickly shared every minute detail of my visit to Jabroni. When I finished my tale of the skulking woman, Aaron sat up in the chair, his face thoughtful.
“So you didn’t have a chance to speak to Jabroni at all before he expired?”
“No, Lefty wouldn’t let me enter the room. I think Jabroni was dead when the medical people rushed in. Why?”
“If the suspicious woman was Mrs. Jabroni, then she might have been in the room when he died or maybe she orchestrated his death.” He swirled the whiskey and leaned back in the chair once more. “I spoke with the doctor when I arrived. He said Jabroni’s daughter had been there as well as two of his henchmen. Jabroni doesn’t have a daughter. That left you as the pretender.”
“Curiosity is such a bother sometimes, Aaron. It really isn’t a blessing.”
“Come off it, Vinnie. You couldn’t stay away from the situation any more than a kitten could stay away from milk. Your curiosity only serves to get you into places you shouldn’t go. Tight corners and deadly encounters . . . if you get my meaning.”
“It does have that effect, doesn’t it?” I asked, not wanting an answer. “So, do you think Mrs. J. did the deadly deed? Why would she? Does she stand to inherit a wad of cash, or what?” I asked. “I didn’t see her in the room, but everything happened quickly so she may have had a chance to step into the closet or bathroom. Jabroni had been put into a private room off to the side of the main trauma area.”
“See what I mean about your curiosity?” His eyes crinkled around the corners as he broke into a full-on smile.
“You can’t stay mad at me, can you?”
“Not for long, but you do aggravate the daylights out of me.” He set the empty glass on the coffee table. As he leaned back, he stretched out and crossed his feet at the ankles.
“Where has the investigation taken you and the detectives?”
“Not far, really. The crime scene techs took samples of the carpet and other stuff from the gallery. They have the murder weapon that, as it happens, was from the art at the gallery. I guess Larry had it in his display?”
“Mmm, I’d seen a knife there, but didn’t realize that was the weapon. How was Larry when the evening ended?”
“Rattled all the way to the soles of his feet, from what I could see.” He glanced at me again. “He made record sales for the night, though.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“He told me before I left. I’m glad he got something out of this appalling affair.” Aaron rose, picked up his glass, and headed toward the kitchen.
He shuffled up the stairs while I stood in the doorway. I heard his key slide into the lock on his door. Before Aaron entered the apartment, his voice rumbled down the staircase.
“Lock up and go to bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Sure thing, boss,” I answered. The lock clicked into place when I closed the door. I returned to the living room and turned the fireplace off.
Once I had snuggled under the down comforter in bed, I listened to the wind whip around the corners of the house. I had nearly dozed off when the phone rang.
Wrestling the covers aside, I reached for the offending unit and answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Vin, it’s me, Larry. Did I wake you?”
“No, I had just climbed into bed.”
“Great. I wouldn’t want to wake you up if you were sleeping,” he rambled. “Have you spoken to Aaron yet?”
“He stopped in on his way upstairs. Why?”
His voice hit a crescendo of excitement as he spoke. “He bought your bust.”
“Get out? He really bought it?” I couldn’t believe it. The man hadn’t said a word about that.
“Honest to God, he did. No word of a lie. He approached me just before Jabroni was found stabbed.”
“You must be so excited. I’m glad you had some good sales tonight. I’m also sorry that the evening ended up the way it did, Larry.”
“I knew there would be excitement with you around, Vinnie. There always is. You never have a dull moment, do you?”
“No, it’s never dull . . . just dangerous and mysterious. Did you see Mrs. Jabroni tonight around the time that Mr. J. was stabbed?”
“No, I saw the beaky guy she was with leave the restroom hallway, but Mrs. J. wasn’t anywhere to be seen. The man collected his coat and left without even a goodbye. How rude is that?”
“Pretty rude.” So, the beaky guy could have stabbed Jabroni and then disappeared without anyone knowing. Huh. “Did you tell Aaron or the detectives about him leaving like that?”
“No, they didn’t ask, and I thought it was unimportant. It was, wasn’t it? Unimportant, I mean?”
“Probably. Don’t worry about it, Larry.”
“I just wanted to tell you about the bust, Vin. Sleep well. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” He disconnected the call before I could say a word.
Setting the phone in the cradle, I slipped under the covers again and snuggled down. My mind ran at full steam. I wondered if there would be any sleep at all for me tonight.