3 Great Female Detectives by K.J. Larsen

Author:K.J. Larsen
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781781855409
Publisher: Head of Zeus

10

My parent’s house in Bridgeport is much the same as it was when I was a kid with a few upgrades. The large oak tree with the rope swing has been replaced by a cedar swing set for the grandkids. Papa’s new deck and Viking outdoor kitchen was the talk of the Moose Lodge for a week. The community hasn’t changed all that much in thirty years. Mrs. Gigliotti is still the neighborhood gossip. She runs to Mama who spices it like a good Italian meatball and spreads it over the south side of Chicago.

There were way too many cars at my parents’ house when I dropped by for cannoli. I wanted to make this fast, pick up the laptop at Joey’s, and pop by Tino’s Deli on my way home. With this kind of crowd, getting away might be trickier than I planned.

I scooted around the back and caught Mama in the kitchen. “You’ll stay for supper,” she beamed. “Father Timothy is here to see you.”

Uh oh. “This isn’t about my concussion, is it? Because when it comes to crazy, you and I are in a dead heat.”

Mama sniffed, affronted. “Is it crazy to want to help my daughter when she talks to dead people?”

“The man isn’t dead. I saw him again this morning.”

Mama crossed herself.

“Ask Rocco.”

Her face glimmered with hope. “Rocco saw this dead man?”

“Not exactly. But a man doesn’t have to be dead just because the FBI says he is.”

Mama squinted. “Who else was there when you saw this dead man?”

“You mean like a witness?”

“A witness would be good.”

“His wife was there.”

“Ah!”

“Or I should say the woman who wasn’t his wife.”

“You have a witness, Caterina. Saints be with us.”

Yup. You know there’s a priest in the DeLuca house when saints are called to supper.

I hedged. “Now that I think of it she may not be the ideal witness.”

Mama’s eyes narrowed to slits. “And why would that be Caterina?”

I sighed. “Mostly because she’s dead, Mama.”

“Dead?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

“Checked out, stabbed in the chest, off the planet dead.”

“Father Timothy,” Mama screamed. Her pitch reached a shattering level and just like that all the saints scattered.

The priest appeared and hauled me into the living room. I didn’t want to go with him but it’s hard to argue with a man who knows all my shit from the confessional. At least since I was fifteen and met Stanley Swank behind his Papa’s store.

“Sit, Caterina. Please.”

“No,” I said, and sat. I looked around the room. Papa, Sophie, the twins, their wives, Uncle Joey, and a slew of running snot-nosed children added to the chaos. From across the street I could feel Mrs. Gigliotti’s high powered binoculars piercing the window.

“My child, we’re here tonight because your family is worried about you.”

My head spun around. “What? I’m here for the cannoli.”

“I understand you’ve suffered a recent concussion.”

“Uh, I was feeling OK until now.”

“Your family has seen some troubling changes in you.”

“Cat talks to dead people,” Sophie blabbed. “She’s scaring the children.”

Sophie’s a big fat tattle tale.

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