1 Limoncello Yellow by Traci Andrighetti

Author:Traci Andrighetti [Andrighetti, Traci]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gemma Halliday Publishing
Published: 2014-01-04T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"What's taking so long?" I asked for the twentieth time since we'd arrived at Lenton's.

"Calm down, Franki," Veronica said from her seat directly across from me in the waiting room. "I'm sure Mr. Orlansky will meet with us soon."

"You said that thirty minutes ago!" I leaned forward in my chair. "Seriously, this guy had better hurry. Otherwise, I won't have time to get ready for my date. And if that happens, you'll have another murder to investigate!"

"You know," she began, studiously ignoring me as she rummaged around in her red Fendi bag for her compact, "I just can't stop thinking about Domenica's reaction to our visit."

I crossed my arms. "I still say we should have questioned her right there on the spot."

"No, we need to talk to her alone to avoid the mother-daughter dynamic." She powdered her nose. "That way we can find out if she meant the things she said, or if she was just trying to get a rise out of her mother."

"I'm not sure I want to be alone with The Dark One," I said. "There's something about the way that girl looked at me that made my skin crawl."

"She is awfully angry." Veronica was now fluffing her blonde mane. "I'm going to have David do a background check on all of them. If this business about Jessica hating the color yellow is relevant to the case, then every member of the Di Salvo family is a potential suspect."

It was my turn to ignore Veronica as I looked at my watch. "It's six o'clock!" I leapt from my seat. I began pacing the room like a caged animal and then promptly ran right into a stick-thin fifty-something administrative assistant as she walked through the doorway.

"I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed.

She straightened and pushed up her glasses with her left index finger. "Mr. Orlansky will see you now."

Veronica and I looked at one another before following the woman as she tottered awkwardly on scuffed beige heels down a long hallway and then stopped without a word beside an office doorway marked "Ed Orlansky."

I followed Veronica into a small, windowless room decorated in varying shades of drab brown. The balding middle-aged man sitting behind the desk was also wearing brown from head to toe, including the cigar in his mouth. I looked at the cigar to see whether it was lit, and then his eyes met mine.

"Don't worry, I don't smoke this thing," he said in a gruff voice. "I just like to chew on it."

"Oh. Right," I said, even though my stomach lurched at the thought of swallowing tobacco cud.

He rose to his feet and pulled up his pants, which were sagging below his protruding belly.

"Which one of you ladies is Veronica?"

"That's me," Veronica said, extending her hand. "Thank you for agreeing to see us about the Jessica Evans case."

"Happy to be of service." He shook her hand and stared deeply into her eyes. "Did you say that you and Miss—"

"Amato," I interjected. "But please call me Franki."

He nodded.

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