Lady Killer (26 page)

M
ary was cleaning up her bedroom when she got a call on the cell, but she didn’t recognize the number. She picked up. “Yes?”

“Mare, it’s me.” Trish sounded panicky.

“Did the feds call?”

“Yeah, they wanna meet with me tomorrow.”

Yikes!
Mary wished she knew more about dealing with the FBI, and now she couldn’t call Bennie.

“I can’t talk to them. I’m sure the boys are watchin’ me. If they think I’m gonna snitch, I’m dead.”

“I know, relax. We can deal with this.”
I hope.

“You’re the one who convinced me to come back. You’re the one who convinced me to go to the cops.”

“You did the right thing, Trish.”

“You were at the funeral home. You saw. Everybody’s crazy right now. All of ’em, on edge. That’s when people get dead.”

“Where are you?” Mary asked, bearing down.

“At my mom’s.”

Mary checked her watch. Eight o’clock. “I’m leaving now,” she said, tense, and went back outside, not completely surprised to find it raining.

Half an hour later, she was standing in the dark drizzle on the Gambones’ front stoop, and Mrs. Gambone opened the door. She looked tense, her affect flat, and she wore a dingy pink tracksuit with Uggs knockoffs. In her hand, she held a long brown cigarette that trailed smoke.

“Mare, thanks a lot for comin’.” Mrs. Gambone admitted Mary to the living room. “I appreciate you helpin’ out.”

“No problem.”

“You can’t let her go to the FBI. She won’t live another day.” Mrs. Gambone smoothed her hair into an old denim scrunchy, and she had no makeup on, showing a weepy puffiness around her eyes.

“Don’t worry. Where is she?”

“Upstairs in her room.” Mrs. Gambone gestured with her cigarette, making a smoke snake.

“Thanks.” Mary crossed the darkened room, more contemporary than her parents’, with blue-patterned couches and chairs under a rectangular mirror. She climbed the staircase, and at the top was an opened door, with light spilling from it into the dark hallway. “Trish?”

“In here.”

Mary entered the small bedroom, which was like stepping into the past. A girl’s bed with a pink chenille coverlet stood out from the wall on the right, and plush animals sat in a saggy little line on the bed. On the bedpost hung a mortarboard, dangling its Goretti tassel. There was an undersized wooden desk, and a bulletin board on the wall, which had black felt varsity letters thumbtacked to the top and an array of old photographs, mostly pictures of Bobby. Mary looked away.

“What took you so long?” Trish asked, sitting up. She’d been flopped on the bed, reading a magazine. The light from an undersized lamp on the night table showed her eyes as swollen as her mom’s. “Close the door behind you.”

Mary closed the door. “How you doin’?” She pulled a wooden chair out from under the desk.

“How do you think I’m doin’?” Trish sniffled, smoothing back her dark hair, flowing loose to her shoulders. She had on a black Eagles sweatshirt that read Division Champions and she somehow made it look sexy. “The government’s after me.”

“They’re just sending a feeler, so don’t overreact.”

“Easy for you to say.” Trish crossed her legs in skinny jeans. She was barefoot, and her pedicure was perfect. “Your ass isn’t on the line.”

“Okay, so who called and what did he say?”

“Name was Kiesling. He said he wanted to come and talk to me tomorrow.”

Mary remembered. The FBI agent she had met that night at the Roundhouse. “What did you say?”

“I told him, no, I don’t know anything, and he said they could subpoena me. Is that true?”

“I think so, but like I told you in the car, I don’t have a lot of experience with this. Tomorrow, let me make some calls and get you another lawyer, one who specializes in this kind of thing.”

“So you’re really dumpin’ me?”

“Trish, I’m not the best lawyer for you. I’d be doing you a disservice—”

“Good loyalty,” Trish snapped, her mouth twisting into an ugly sneer.

Loyalty?
Mary couldn’t help but chuckle. She flashed on Giulia, then her cheating husband Joe.

“Why is that funny?”

“Nothing.”

“No, what?” Trish shot back, itching for a fight. “You laughed.”

Mary kicked herself for reacting. The girl was under stress.

“You don’t think I’m loyal?” Trish put a spiky acrylic nail to her chest. “I’m totally loyal. I’m a loyal girl. I went to you when I needed a lawyer because I knew you from school.”

Also you thought I’d give you a discount.

“I’ve had the same friends for, like, thirty years. G, Yo, and Missy, we go way back. G is my best friend from, like, when we were two.”

“Okay, whatever. Don’t get all worked up.”

“I don’t like you sayin’ I’m not loyal, when
you’re
the one who’s not loyal.”

“How am
I
not loyal?” Mary couldn’t help but take the bait. “I just dropped a week of my life for you.”

“You didn’t tell me about you and Bobby.”

Ouch.
Mary felt stung.

“Yeah, right.” Trish puckered her lip. “You didn’t know I knew, did you? Ritchie told me yesterday, after the cemetery. He said you dated Bobby. Did you?”

Mary’s mouth went dry. “Not for long, okay?”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s the truth.”

“When was this?”

“Senior year.”

“Was he goin’ out with me at the time?”

“No, you two had broken up.”

“I dumped him, he didn’t dump me.”

Mary thought of what Judy had said.
You got a chance to reinvent yourself. The Mean Girls never did.

“So how come you didn’t tell me?” Trish’s eyes narrowed.

“What difference did it make?”

“I don’t know, it musta made some difference, because you didn’t tell me. If you’da tol’ me, I woulda thought it didn’t matter. Now I think it does.”

Hmm.
“Trish, this is old news, from high school.”

“Yeah, well, I was
livin’
with him till last week, so it ain’t old news to me. Why didn’t you tell me? You said we were friends. I’d never keep a secret like that from a friend.”

“Ha.” Mary’s mouth dropped open.

“What?”

“You’d never keep a secret from a friend? How about Miss Tuesday Thursday? How about your boyfriend?” Mary couldn’t stop herself. “Why didn’t you tell the girls about him?”

“I thought they might slip and tell Bobby.”

“Bull! They never hung with Bobby, and you know it.”

Trish’s eyes flared. “You callin’ me a liar?”

“I know you’re a liar. You lied to me about who your boyfriend is.”

“I did not.” Trish flushed, and the words came out of Mary’s mouth before she could stop them.

“You’re such a good, loyal girlfriend that you’re sleeping with Giulia’s husband.”

Trish gasped, momentarily dumbfounded.

“Yeah,
right
.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, please.” Mary waved her off, disgusted. “Stop it, just stop it. I don’t know how you live with yourself. Giulia’s so sweet, and she’s your best friend. She went crazy trying to find you. She cried over you in my office. She was so worried, she didn’t sleep nights. You’re a terrible, disloyal friend to her.”

“I’m a great friend to her.”

“You’re the worst.”

“No, the
best
. Because I saved her life.”

Mary scoffed. “What? When? In gym class? You lend her socks?”

“No, you jerk.” Trish shot back. “You think you’re so smart? I have news for you. That opal ring they found in the alley? My ring?”

“Yes, so what?”

“I lent it to Giulia two years ago, when she got married again. For something borrowed, something blue, you know that rhyme? And she never gave it back.”

Mary sat stunned, not knowing whether to believe her.

“So if the cops found it in the alley, it’s because Giulia had it on.” Trish met her eye, evenly. “It wasn’t Cadillac who shot Bobby, or any other wiseguy. It had to be
Giulia
.”

Mary couldn’t deal. It was impossible.

“She musta thought he killed me. Plus she always hated his guts. She knew he worked the corner at Kennick, so she musta went over and shot him dead. And she has a gun.”

Mary was shaking her head. Giulia was such a sweetheart. It couldn’t be true.

“When that detective pulled the ring out, in the Baggie, I knew right then what Giulia musta done. But did I tell them? No.” Trish leaned over, lowering her voice. “
I
took the rap for Giulia.
I
took the risk they’d think I did it, so they wouldn’t go after her.”

Mary felt stunned. Trish was right, if she was telling the truth.

“So now who’s the loyal friend?” Trish lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m hookin’ up with Joe, but so what? It didn’t mean anything. I saved her
life
, and I’m so nice, I didn’t even tell her. I didn’t even want the
credit
. Would
you
do that for a friend? Would
you
be that loyal?”

Suddenly there came a noise from the first floor, and Mrs. Gambone called up the stairs. “Trish? Trish!”

“What, Ma?” Trish called back, annoyed.

“G’s here to see you! Okay if she comes up?”

Mary’s gut clenched. She had to figure out what to do. She had no idea what would happen. She met Trish’s eye.

“Send ’er up, Ma!” Trish yelled, and neither woman said anything, listening to the
clack-clack
of little boots on the stairs.

“W
hat’sa matter?” Giulia asked, her face falling the moment she entered the bedroom.

For a minute, Mary didn’t know what to say. It was so hard to believe that Giulia had pulled a gun and shot somebody, much less Bobby. The girl looked like a cherub who’d gotten into her mother’s makeup kit, her chubby cheeks flushed from being outside, coloring even under her thick blusher, her lips a vivid red, and glittery blue shadow on her eyelids.

“Nothin’s the matter,” Trish said, evidently playing dumb. “Everything’s fine.”

“You look upset.” Giulia came inside and closed the door behind her. “You still stressin’ about the funeral?”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Trish frowned with fake grief, and Mary marveled at what a good liar she was, proof that practice makes perfect.

“So what’sa matter with you, Mare?” Giulia asked, cocking her head.

“Nothing.”

Giulia shrugged her padded leather shoulders. “S’all right, you guys don’t wanna tell me, you don’t have to. I know I gained weight, if that’s what you were talkin’ about.”

“Nah.” Trish waved her off. “It’s the feds called, and that freaks me out.”

“For reals.” Giulia bucked up and clapped her hands together. “Well, good, because I’m here to take you out drinkin’, T. I figured you’d be upset and all, after the funeral and what you been through, and so I thought we’d go out. I mean, you couldn’t do it before, when that animal was alive. Now that he’s gone, I mean, let’s have some fun.”

Did you really say that? Did you shoot that man dead, out of loyalty? Or was Trish lying one more time?

“I don’t know, G,” Trish answered.

Mary couldn’t take it any longer. Trish had said she hadn’t told Giulia that the cops had the ring, so she could be tested easily. “Giulia, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what?” Giulia smiled expectantly.

“Did Trish ever lend you an opal ring?”

“Huh?” Giulia blinked, then froze, her back against the door. For a second Mary thought she might open it and try to run, but her gaze traveled slowly and almost fearfully to Trish. “I’m really…sorry, T. I never shoulda done it. I didn’t have the right.”

No.
“So Trish did lend it to you?”

“Yeah, she did. For my wedding. I wanted it to be the borrowed thing. But I never gave it back.” Giulia turned to Trish again, her voice quiet. “I’m sorry, T. Really.”

“That’s okay, G,” Trish said, then looked at Mary, her chin raised. “See?”

I can’t believe this. Giulia did it?

Giulia continued, “I shouldn’t a kep’ it so long, I guess. I forgot I had it. I’ll get it back to you, T, I swear.”

Mary felt a chill. “You won’t able to do that so easily, Giulia.”

“Sure I will. I’ll just ask Yo for it. I lent it to her.” Giulia turned to Trish again. “It wasn’t my ring to lend anybody. I didn’t have the right, I know. I shoulda asked you, T, but I didn’t.”

“What happened?” Trish asked, with a frown, and Mary’s heart leaped up.

Giulia continued, “Yo was over my house, sometime last year, and she saw your ring in my jewelry box, and she knew it was yours, so she asked could she borrow it. I forget why.” She thought a minute. “It was Halloween, that’s right, and she wanted to be a gypsy for that party at Rock Lobster. Remember when we all went to that party?”

Trish nodded. “Sure, and we got so wasted on the appletinis?”

“Yeah, and I said that’s a good gypsy ring because opals are like crystal balls kinda, and I lent it to Yo without askin’ you.”

Mary almost cried with relief. “So Yolanda has it? Not you?”

“Yeah.” Giulia nodded, her dark curls bouncing. “Now can we go out? Or are you too mad at me, T?”

“I’m not mad, honey,” Trish told her with a soft smile.

So Yolanda did it. But why? The same reason? Loyalty to a girlfriend?
Then Mary remembered that Yolanda was always the unhappy one, and she had a gun, too.

“We can ask Yo for it, in a minute.” Giulia gestured behind her. “She’s meetin’ us here, with Missy. I came separate because Joe and me went out to dinner.”

In the next minute, there was the sound of singing in the stairway, and the door opened. Yolanda stuck her head inside, her long hair swinging and a crooked grin on her face. “You guys decent?” she asked, guffawing, then burst unsteadily into the room, her leather coat barely covering a supershort black dress with black suede boots.

Giulia rolled her eyes. “You started drinkin’ already?”

“Okay, so I had a lil’ somethin’ somethin’.” Yolanda grinned. “Don’t worry, Missy’s drivin’. She’s outside, she hadda park.”

“Yo.” Giulia touched her arm. “Can you hear me?”

“Gimme a break. I’m not that out of it.”

“Listen, remember that opal ring?”

“What oval ring?”

“The
opal
ring I lent you, Trish’s ring. You wore it to the party, last Halloween.”

“At Rock Lobster? When I was the gypsy?”

“Yeah.”

“Told you I’m not that drunk.”

“Whatev. Trish wants her ring back.”

Yolanda blinked, confused.

“Do you have it?”

“No.”

“Did you lose it, you idiot?”

“No.”

“What happened to it?”

“I’m trying to remember.” Yolanda squinted hard. “That was the night with the appletinis, and it was so cold out, and we came back here, right?”

Giulia nodded. “Right, Yo. We came back here because we drank too much and we all crashed in T’s room, right here. We didn’t go back to T’s house because we knew Bobby would throw a fit.” She turned to Trish. “Remember, T? You, me, and Missy slep’ on the floor, and we let Yo have the bed because she passed out and we couldn’t move her?”

Trish kept frowning. “Yeah, I guess. But what happened to my ring, Yo?”

“I took it off in here,” Yolanda answered, pointing at the table. “I put it right under the lamp. I figured you’d see it in the morning. Didn’t you?”

Mary felt stricken, thinking of the implications.

Trish seemed to freeze. “You’re wrong. You didn’t do that.”

“Did, too,” Yolanda said.

“You’re too drunk to remember.”

“I’m not that drunk, and I remember.” Yolanda pointed again at the night table. “I put it right there. I was sure you’d see it. Anybody comin’ into the room woulda seen it. Ask your mom. I’m sure she saw it.”

Giulia looked over, nodding. “Yeah, T, your mom probably found it. I’m sure it’s safe.”

Trish looked stricken, and Mary didn’t know what to say. Suddenly Missy stuck her head in the doorway and called out, “Let’s get this party started!”

Trish scrambled off the bed and onto her feet. “Everybody, go. Now. I don’t wanna go out partyin’. I don’t feel good. I need to just chill, by myself.”

No.
Mary rose, facing her. She wasn’t about to leave. “It’s not that easy.”

“Don’t tell me,” Trish shot back, nervous. Her gaze shifted to the girls. “Get out, all of you.”

“What’s goin’ on?” Missy asked, entering the bedroom.

“Get out!” Trish shouted, and Giulia recoiled.

“What’sa matter, T?”

Yolanda shook her head, her expression muzzy. “No way, girl. Time to party.”

“Get out, all of you!” Trish exploded, and the girls jumped, confused. Missy fled outside, followed by Yolanda.

“Jeez, T.” Giulia was bewildered. “All this, ’cause of a ring? What’d I do?”

“Just go, G. You and Mary, get outta my house.” Trish stepped forward suddenly and pushed her.

“What the—” Giulia stumbled back, hurt.

“Go!” Trish screamed, and Giulia’s lined eyes flew wide open.

“Giulia, please go.” Mary gave her the nod, and Giulia headed out the door.

Trish turned on Mary. “You, too. Go.”

“No, Trish.” Mary set her jaw. “I’m not going. This ends here and now.”

“Get out.” Trish shoved Mary against the desk, pushing her off balance, and her arms pinwheeled, knocking the bulletin board off the wall with a loud
clunk
.

“Trish?” Mrs. Gambone called from downstairs. “What’s goin’ on up there?”

“Ma, don’t come up!” Trish shouted, but Mary grabbed her arm.

“She talks to me or I tell the cops. Which is it?”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Trish shot back, her teeth clenched.

“Come up, Mrs. Gambone,” Mary shouted, going to the door with Trish on her heels.