A Season for Killing Blondes (2 page)

I got up and headed toward the reception area. I noticed a man making his way through the crowd that had gathered outside the front window. Tall and lean with salt-and-pepper hair, the man sported a black leather coat and a light gray suit. When he stopped to talk with Uncle Paolo, he flashed a badge. As I approached the two men, my heart started beating faster. Carlo Fantin. How could I have forgotten my old high school crush? If anything, he looked even better now than he did back then. He hadn’t bulked up or lost his hair. He was still hunk material.

He stared, his blue eyes widening in surprise and something else I couldn’t quite define. Amusement. Anticipation. Maybe even lust. He stopped talking to Uncle Paolo and gave me his full attention.

He flashed the beautiful smile that had once captivated me and every other female student at Sudbury Secondary. “Hello, Gilda. It’s good to see you again. Uh, in spite of these circumstances.”

“Hi, Carlo, I’m—”

“Detective Fantin,” my uncle shouted in my ear.

Before I could say anything, Aunt Amelia piped up. “We’re so glad you came, Detective. We’ll sleep better tonight knowing that you’re in charge.”

My mother and Sofia appeared at my side. All those years ago when I had fantasized about connecting with Carlo, I had envisioned many wonderful scenarios where we would bump into each other and fall in love—on the beach, dance floor, even at a bar. Never in a million years did I think we would reconnect in these circumstances with my family in tow.

“I will need to talk with each of you,” Carlo said. “I would like to do it now rather than have all of you report downtown. My officers are already in the back alley. They’ve set up a perimeter around the Dumpster, and they’d like to use a room in your office as a command post. I’ve also stationed an officer outside the front door. He’ll stop any clients you have from entering.”

I couldn’t believe all of that had happened while I was cocooned in my office. I smiled at Uncle Paolo. Thank goodness he had taken charge.

Carlo spoke directly to me. “Paolo tells me there are three offices. I’d like to use one of them for the interviews.”

“Of course,” I replied. “Use the middle office.”

Carlo nodded to Uncle Paolo. “We’ll start with you first, Paolo.” Both men headed toward the back area.

My mother clapped her hands. “He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Aunt Amelia winked. “And he’s such a catch.”

Sofia shook her finger. “You don’t know anything about him.”

“Oh yes I do!” Aunt Amelia said. “His wife died of cancer two years ago, and he has been alone ever since. His children are married and living out west somewhere. Vancouver, Alberta, one of those places. I heard it all at Maria’s Beauty Salon. I could give her a call—”

“There’s no need. I know the rest.” My mother’s eyes sparkled as she spoke. “His parents are both dead, and he still lives in that big beautiful house in Moonglo, mortgage free.” She raised her voice. “This could be your last chance.”

Even with a dead body in a Dumpster, thousands of euros of pastries wasting away, and policemen swarming about, my mother and aunt could still indulge in their favorite hobby—trying to find me another husband.

Chapter 2

My mother and Aunt Amelia pulled up chairs and huddled around the Italian corner. Sofia had almost lost it this morning when she saw that colorful corner of red, white and green. The two-for-one Wal-Mart plastic centerpieces with fake flowers and strategically-placed Italian flags clashed with Sofia’s upscale shabby chic decor. I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint my mother and my aunt, and I had also persuaded Sofia to let it go. I didn’t want any drama, and now I had a different kind of drama.

Uncle Paolo was still in the middle office with Carlo. Sofia fussed with the vertical blinds, and I sat at the reception desk taking incoming calls and watching as the plaza filled with spectators.

I had selected this south end location, minutes away from the Four Corners, because of its high customer traffic and proximity to the university, downtown Sudbury and the highway. The storefront was ideal with its large picture window and its location next door to a bank. I had just experienced the downside—probably the only downside—of making such a practical business decision.

The banging on the front window startled me. Sofia nearly fell off the step ladder, and my mother and aunt rushed over. We could hear the policeman shouting, “You can’t go in. Ladies! Ladies! Get away from that window.”

Rosa Geraldi and Maria Rossi ignored the officer and continued to bang on the window. Rosa yelled, “We’ve known Gilda all her life. We’re practically family. We need to be here.” I opened the door and spoke to the officer trying to restrain the two women who appeared to have the advantage with a combined weight of over four hundred pounds. “It’s all right, officer. Maria is my godmother, and Rosa is her sister. They won’t stay long.”

The officer reluctantly let the two women pass. They hugged me close.

Maria shook her head. “What a disaster! We were driving by and saw all the commotion.” She frowned. “Where’s the dead woman? Have they taken her already? Where’s Paolo?”

Maria and Rosa didn’t waste any time on pleasantries.

“The police roped off the area, and a few officers are in the back alley attending to the body,” I explained. “Carlo is taking Uncle Paolo’s statement. He plans to talk with all of us.”

Rosa’s eyes widened. “Carlo Fantin? Is he handling all of this?” I nodded, and she continued. “I hear he’s one of the best in that department. And he’s available.” She winked at me.

“It’s too bad you had to meet him like this, but you look beautiful,” Maria said. She waved her hand toward my mother, aunt, and Sofia. “All of you look beautiful today.”

“Gilda insisted on suits,” Sofia said.

I had only made the suggestion, but after a few initial protests they had relented. Sofia wore a pink tweed suit and dusty rose blouse that complimented her dark hair and light olive skin. My mother and Aunt Amelia had selected shifts in navy blue and purple with matching three-quarter length jackets. I had stuck to my zebra colors and topped my light wool black suit with a cream blouse.

“You look like Ginas,” Maria said.

It was one of Maria’s best compliments, and she did not give it too freely. Gina Lollobrigida was her favourite Italian actress, and Maria believed very few women could compete with the raven-haired, voluptuous beauty. We all laughed and felt the tension breaking.

“I wonder why Carlo is taking so long with Paolo?” Aunt Amelia asked.

“He’s a good man, and he’ll get to the bottom of this.” Uncle Paolo walked toward us. He nodded to Aunt Amelia. “Detective Fantin wants to see you next. Keep it short and don’t go on and on about the figs.”

Aunt Amelia lowered her gaze and walked quickly toward the middle office.

“What’s this about the figs? I thought they had arrived yesterday?” Rosa asked.

Maria jumped in. “Did someone take the figs?”

Both sisters shared the gossip gene and delighted in being the first to share news—good and bad—with the rest of the Italian community. And they didn’t hesitate to add their own spin on the situation. While I didn’t approve of Aunt Amelia’s comments, I didn’t want everyone in Sudbury knowing that her primary concern was the stuffed figs.

I walked over to the Italian corner, uncovered the first cart and wheeled it over. I motioned to Maria and Rosa. “Please, help yourselves.”

My mother flashed me a grateful smile and relaxed her tensed up shoulders. Sofia joined me, and we watched as Uncle Paolo and the women started eating the stuffed figs and pastries. The telephone continued to ring, but I let all the messages go to voicemail. No point repeating the same message over and over again. My open house was canceled, and I had no idea when I would be ready to take clients. I sighed. “I wonder how much longer this will take.”

“I can’t see Carlo spending too much time with any of us,” Sofia said. “Except you, of course.”

“Why would you think that?”

“You’re the last person who saw Carrie Ann before—”

“You think she was actually killed here?” I struggled with the thought of Carrie Ann dying right after leaving my office. So many negative scenarios whirled through my mind. Was someone lurking in that back alley? Would I have to make sure my clients used only the front entrance? What about the evening workshops I hoped to facilitate?

Sofia shook her head. “Why would someone go to all the trouble of killing her someplace else and then depositing her in one of your Dumpsters? The murderer would have to drag her into a car, pull her out again, and then throw her into the Dumpster. I don’t think he would have gone to all that trouble.”

“You’re so certain it was a man?”

Sophia narrowed her eyes in doubt. “You think a woman could have lifted Carrie Ann into the Dumpster? She’s thin, but I’m sure she weighs at least one hundred pounds.”

“You have a point, but I can’t imagine any man killing Carrie Ann.” I had a flash. “Wait a minute. A woman had to be involved. No man would have fussed with her hair and scarf.”

Sofia lowered her voice. “I wouldn’t be too keen about sharing that particular insight with anyone else, especially Carlo.”

Did she think that I could be implicated?

Sofia started to speak, but stopped when Aunt Amelia emerged from the middle office. Sofia immediately went to her side. “Ma, are you okay? What happened in there?”

“Carlo was so nice, but I…I was so nervous. I hope I answered everything okay. I don’t want to get into any trouble.” Aunt Amelia closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

“Don’t worry. You’re not a suspect in this case. What did Carlo say?”

“He wanted to know what Paolo did this morning…what I did…I don’t know…” She moaned, “No more questions. My head hurts too much. Oh…and he wants to see you or Assunta next.”

“I’ll go.” Sofia headed toward the office.

Maria and Rosa came to Aunt Amelia’s side and persuaded her to sample the pastries. I smiled as she bit into a stuffed fig and exclaimed about it.

My mother left the group and joined me. “You’re starting to fade away. You didn’t have any lunch, and you’re thinking too much again.”

Bone tired and hungry, I considered helping myself to a pastry, but I didn’t want any sugar in my system. I nodded toward Aunt Amelia. “Someone made a quick recovery.”

Her lips tightened. “She’s fine as long as she’s the center of attention and doesn’t have to deal with any unpleasant situations. It would be another story if this were Sofia’s office.”

“Is she sharing Aunt Matilda’s secret recipe for amaretto cookies? I thought you had all been sworn to secrecy.”

“She’s like a runaway train when she gets started. What that woman will do for attention is beyond belief. Especially on a day like—” Her eyes filled with tears, and her right hand shook as she reached for a tissue.

I needed a distraction. Anything at all to take my mother’s mind off the dead body. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with all those pastries. I guess I’ll have to freeze them tonight.”

My mother perked up. “Don’t worry about the pastries. Amelia and I have already discussed it. We’ll put aside three platters for Paolo’s birthday on Saturday and freeze the rest.” She lowered her voice. “I’m so sorry we talked you into spending all that money. I had no idea it would cost so much.”

“It’s all right, Ma.” The money had been spent, and while the pastries wouldn’t be eaten today, I knew that my mother and aunt would make sure that they didn’t go to waste.

Sofia appeared at my side. “Aunt Assunta, Carlo’s ready for you now.”

I waited until my mother had disappeared from sight before speaking with Sofia. “How did it go?”

Sofia shrugged. “Pretty tame. I gave him a quick rundown of what happened this morning. Oh, and Carlo wanted to know about my last encounter with Carrie Ann.”

“When did you last see her?”

“Oh, I see…saw her all the time. I ran into her at the grocery store, the malls, Curves.” Sofia tugged at her waistband. “I’ve been going for over a year, and I’ve barely lost an inch off my waist. Last week, Carrie Ann bragged about losing three inches off her waist.”

“You’ve never mentioned any of this before.” I wondered when Sofia found time for Curves. Her days were booked solid with decorating, planning church fundraisers, and at least one dinner party a week.

“It’s been kind of hard to talk about normal, everyday stuff since you won the lottery.”

I sensed an edge to her voice and decided not to say anything.

Sofia gestured toward her mother. “She’s having the time of her life. No moaning or complaining about aches and pains or even dead bodies.” She checked her watch. “I think my parents are about ready to go home. Rosa and Maria can take your mother home.” Sofia moved toward the group. “It’s time to go.”

Uncle Paolo frowned. “Did Carlo say we could go? Who is he talking with now?”

Sofia pointed toward the side office. “He’s talking with Aunt Assunta. He said everyone can leave except Gilda.”

Maria gasped and pressed her hand against her chest. “Maybe you should have a lawyer with you.”

Sofia snorted. “Gilda has nothing to worry about. This is her office. Carlo wants to ask her a few more questions, that’s all.” She nodded toward Rosa. “Could you and Maria take Aunt Assunta home?”

“Of course,” Rosa said. “Ah, there she is now. Assunta, we’ll take you home.”

My mother turned toward me. I nodded and waved her away. “Don’t worry about me, Ma. Go ahead with Rosa and Maria. I won’t be long.”

Chapter 3

Carlo had removed his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his light blue dress shirt. His tie lay on the desk. The rumpled look suited him to a tee. And his large black-rimmed glasses accentuated those unforgettable blue eyes. Bluer than blue. Sky blue. Cornflower blue. Robin’s egg blue. Years ago, Adele Martino and I had come up with thirty-seven descriptions of Carlo Fantin’s eyes when Mrs. Gillespie assigned one of her Monday morning English composition exercises. As I tried to recall the other thirty-three, I realized that Carlo was speaking to me.

“…he’ll be taking notes as well.”