Dirty Trouble (17 page)

I tossed the junk mail into the recycle bin on my way out the door. With the bills tucked under my arm, I tore open the Vinnie envelope. My hands shook a bit since there was no return address and the postmark said Providence. This meant it could have been mailed from anywhere in the state.

Renoir’s artwork covered the shiny surface of the card. I flipped it open and scanned the bottom of the page for a signature. There wasn’t one. Dammit. My eyes scrolled up to the top of the card and I read the brief message inside.

The pounding of my heart reverberated in my ears as I read the words. The note said I was to consider myself lucky to have lived through the accident. It stated that I might not be so fortunate the next time, and wouldn’t that be too bad. The note ended at the bottom of the page with the words
Best wishes that you may rest in peace.
That was all there was to the note.

The words were cut from a magazine and pasted on. No handwriting to analyze, and probably no fingerprints either. My students were currently working on fingerprinting in class. The note would make a great project for one of the superior detectives in the class. I knew which one I’d give it to, since he had the reputation of keeping his mouth shut. Not like that blabbermouth who lived upstairs from me. Boy, for an FBI agent, he sure did shoot his mouth off to my family, and Marcus, a lot.

I crossed the street and entered the house. Flinging the mail onto the kitchen counter, I marched straight to the French doors and opened them. I slouched down on a deck chair, wrapped my sweater tighter around my torso, and rested my head against the cushion.

A chilling breeze swept past and an ungodly caterwauling began. I glanced around for the origin of the noise and saw Evergreen slink toward the deck. His fur matted, he appeared as unkempt as ever. I had wondered if he escaped the garage unhurt by the fire, and he had.

The heavyweight animal mounted the three steps to the deck and wandered toward me. He never missed a beat as leaves swirled around and crossed the surface. Scraggy-edged ears pricked forward at the rustling sounds of crisp, dead foliage, but he kept moving. Evergreen arrived at my chair and sat back on wide haunches. The pouched cheeks of his scarred, but still handsome face, sat below green eyes that never left my own.

Tentatively, I reached out to the beast and played my fingers across his head. No growl this time. The purr sounded like a jet engine readying for takeoff. I was sure this cat was part mountain lion. A paw reached up and tapped my hand as his pink sandpaper tongue scraped across my wrist. I’d made a friend. Mainly because I fed him, I thought with a smile.

The thing about animals is that they don’t whine about life, yell at you, complain about what you have or haven’t done, and they don’t tell you to mind your own business. Animals just plain accept you for what you are. Either they like you, or they don’t – nothing in between.

My newfound friend hissed when footsteps crunched over the stone covered driveway. Green eyes narrowed and ragged ears flattened against his head. Hair bristled along Evergreen’s back, and he hunched lower before disappearing underneath the deck in a flash. Apparently, I had company.

A stranger walked along the yard and around the garage. He limped to the right as he stepped past the building. His jeans, as work worn as the boots he wore, showed signs of better days.
Ahh, this must be the builder.
No fancy shirt and tie, no architectural renderings. Nope, this guy was a worker. He got his hands dirty and probably enjoyed every moment of it.

He rounded the garage and stopped short when his eyes lit upon me. I remained still while he grinned and approached me. The blue eyes were familiar, and the body husky and rugged. The limp was less pronounced than before, and I wondered what caused it.
There’s that curiosity thing again.

“Hi, you must be the owner of this property?” he said with a twinkle in his gorgeous blues. He removed his boot while he sat on the step and shook a stone out onto the ground. That took care of the limp question, I thought.

Familiarity gave way to recognition. This was the firefighter who’d retrieved my sorry ass from the car accident. Small world, huh? No. Small state.

“Yes, I’m Vinnie Esposito. Aren’t you the guy who hauled me from a car accident the other day?”

“That would be me, Jesse Crane.” Those rich blue eyes rested on me as he held out a hand to shake mine. “I’m only part-time with the fire company. I build and restore the rest of the time. You left a message about this garage?”

Rising from the lounge, I shook his hand. A pale, thin scar crossed his chin. Funny I hadn’t noticed it the other day. Light brown hair topped the high forehead and rounded face. He wasn’t too hard on the eyes, I thought.

I stepped toward the damaged building with him in tow. Checking inside and out, he asked questions about the age of the structure and what my insurance would cover. A typical Rhode Islander, he wanted to know what was in it for him, and if he’d get paid. I smirked when he wasn’t looking and assured him the insurance would cover the repairs.

A grin covered Jesse’s face as he turned toward me. “You do realize the damage is repairable? This shouldn’t take but a couple days to put right.”

“That would be great. It’s an eyesore and I’d like it completed as soon as possible. Could you show me a sample of work you’ve already done?”

His eyebrows gathered together as surprise filtered across Crane’s face. I guess nobody requested that before. I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t a hacker, though it was unlikely Aaron would recommend one.  I motioned for him to follow me.

We ambled into the house and I pulled the insurance card from my wallet. I handed it to him and said, “Call this number. Mr. Palloni will give you the particulars of my coverage.”

“Great. If you want to take a ride, I can show you a job I finished not too long ago,” Crane offered.

Now call me stupid, but I took this guy on trust, even if Evergreen didn’t. He’d rescued me from the brink of death, and for that I would be forever grateful. Besides, I knew self-defense techniques. Marcus and Aaron were also perks in my life, and this man was aware of them.

The door locked behind us as we left the house and headed toward the street. A dark green pickup truck loaded with roofing material, tools, and a generator hugged the curb out front. We climbed aboard and headed west. I had no idea where this man was about to take me.

The questions Jesse asked mostly concerned the garage and the house. He got around to Aaron and I wondered if he realized that Aaron was FBI. The answer to my curious mind soon became known.

“Aaron Grant recommended me, huh?” he asked.

“Yes, he said you’re reasonably priced and have a good reputation. How do you know Aaron?” I just had to know.

“He was engaged to my friend’s distant cousin, Lou Anne, for a short time. They met at the Gaming Commission.”

I often wondered if there were other women in Aaron’s life. He never brought anyone to the apartment, and it always seemed like he was working. Cops, all types of cops, are driven by their jobs. My curiosity hiked to an all-time new level. “Oh. Still engaged, are they?”

“No, they aren’t.” He smirked and glanced at me. “He lives upstairs from you, huh?”

“Indeed, he does.”

“Hmmph. Well, the engagement was made in hell and Lou Anne….” He hesitated. “Well, never mind about Lou Anne. Just suffice it to say, you won’t be bothered by her, in case you’re wondering.”

“Oh. We’re not romantically involved or anything. He’s just a tenant and friend. That’s all.” Why I clarified that I couldn’t imagine, but I needed to do so.

We’d nearly passed through the town of Foster by this time. It’s a ‘country bumpkin’ type town with a post office but nothing much to offer, unless peace and quiet were of utmost importance. Former News Anchorman, Tom Brokaw, once called it a bedroom community. I guess he was right.

There were no cinemas, stores, or shopping malls, and the town liked it that way. Every house sat on at least five to six acres of land and the town liked that, too. No neighbors packed on top of one another here. A tree farm every now and then with agriculture at its finest. The town even touted their very own nudist colony along with a country club for golfers. Not necessarily nude golfers though.

The truck turned toward an area I rarely frequented, and thoughts of DeGreico popped up. A silent alarm ran along my nerves as we wheeled down the narrow road. What if I ran into him? He lived down this road somewhere, I was certain of it. Crane hung a right hand turn, and we swung through the gate of The Valley Horse Farm.

Corrals, bordered by high white fencing, lined the dirt driveway as we rolled toward the horse barn. Gorgeous roans, a palomino, and a Canadian Chunk roamed the paddocks. A red barn, doors wide open, squatted toward the left while an oversized, white ranch house sat toward the right.

The truck slowed, and stopped near the barn, and we alighted. Hesitant, I glanced around the grounds, peered at the horses, on the lookout for anyone familiar. I wasn’t surprised when DeGreico sauntered forward. Shit, this would be my luck – so much for life turning around.

Tony didn’t say anything to me, just wore a snarky grin on his face. Jerk, I thought. He shook hands with Crane, who introduced himself, and asked if we could look at the apartment built onto the barn. I wanted to run away as fast as I could, but I was stuck in a hard spot. Apparently Crane had no idea of the history between Tony and me.

“Sure, go ahead in. I have to round up the horses for feeding. Just take your time and have a look.” He was friendly, but I wasn’t fooled for a second when those beady eyes scrolled over me.

Once again, I was at a disadvantage. I wouldn’t run away nor would I admit that I knew this swine. If Jesse knew it, that was another issue, but I didn’t think he did.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

I was so lost in thought, that Jesse was several feet away before he realized I wasn’t with him.

“Sure thing,” I said and hustled along beside him.

After we entered the neat quarters, he kept up a rolling dialogue about the job and how long it had taken. I glanced around at the, neat-as-a-pin dwelling that put my housekeeping efforts to shame. I figured DeGreico must have a maid.

Glancing inside closets and cupboards, I looked for notepaper. Opening drawers and cabinets as though buying the property – not illegally searching it – I turned to find Jesse staring. I gave him the most beguiling smile I could manage and Jesse responded as most guys do.

Before we finished the tour, I made note of the fact there wasn’t any notepaper hanging around. Nothing similar to what I received in the mail anyway. I nodded as Jesse showed me the dovetail work he’d included in the cabinets and molding. I made what I hoped were the right responses.

 “The work you put into this place is wonderful. I won’t need this detail in the garage, but you definitely have the job. By the way, do you know the guy who lives here?” Even though he introduced himself, I wanted to double check.

“No, this work was completed before anyone moved in. I’ve never met him before. Why?”

“Just wondering, is all. When can you start the garage?”

“As soon as I speak to your insurance agent, the building inspector, and the fire marshal we’ll get started. Does that work for you?”

“Yes, that will be fine,” I said.

DeGreico strode through the door as we readied to leave. He glanced at me and smirked again. I gave him a look that said a lot but I never uttered a sound. He shook hands with Jesse before we left.

The trip home was quick, and I couldn’t wait to get there. Jesse asked a few more questions about the garage and left me at the doorstep, with a salute. My mind rolled over the information I’d gleaned from him, about Aaron, while I waved goodbye.

The search of DeGreico’s residence was a total disappointment, but then I hadn’t expected to find anything after I saw how neat the place was. His smirky attitude left me wondering about the letter. Odds were that he’d written it to make me uncomfortable. Well, he’d managed that.

Aaron’s black Yukon sat parked next to my Altima in the driveway. Since the yellow Volkswagen was missing, I guessed Lola’s cousin reclaimed it. My thoughts turned to Lou Anne and Aaron. What happened to Lou Anne? Was she still around? Why hadn’t the engagement worked? Aaron was a secretive man. Questions swirled around my head. I just had to know, but I had no intention of asking.

Didn’t someone say that the road to hell was paved with good intentions?

Chapter 16

The day was waning as I backed the car from the driveway and drove toward Cranston. Unwilling to go into the house, on the chance that I’d run into Aaron, I buckled up and hit the road. My mother would have dinner on – probably roast beef or spaghetti. Either way, I was ravenous and would be welcomed for a meal with the family.

I hit speed dial on my cell phone and told my mother that I was coming for dinner. It was always acceptable. I flipped the phone closed and scooted over the back roads. The car handled like a dream. I sped toward my parents’ house, elated to have a decent car once again.

At the intersection of my parents’ street, my phone jingled its lofty tune. The number displayed belonged to Marcus. I wondered if he were checking on my whereabouts. Unwilling to listen to his nagging, I ignored the call and let it go to voice mail.

The house smelled of roast veggies and beef done to perfection. My father slid the salad bowl onto the table with a glance at me. My mother set the serving platter, loaded with succulent fare, between the four place settings. Not just for the three of us. I should have known better.

A glass of wine in hand, I settled at the table with my parents. Nonni stepped through the living room door and I rose to kiss her cheek in greeting. Her eyes glistened with pleasure; at least I hoped it was pleasure, when I gave her a peck on the cheek. I hadn’t expected Nonni to be the fourth diner, but I was happy about it. A break from Marcus and Aaron would be a change.