Dirty Trouble (9 page)

While in her shop, Maria Grimano, my old school chum and Tony’s fiancé, introduced me to Tony. His charm was a bit overdone, but then again, I didn’t find him as dashing as Maria did. We met often, since I was a regular customer of Maria’s cubbyhole-sized business.

Dressed in flashy clothes, with lots of bling hanging off his wrists and neck, Tony seemed to have nothing but time on his hands. He hung out at the florist shop and became what I considered to be a nuisance.

Tony got in the way of customers until Maria took him aside and explained in the kindest way she could that she needed to attend to business. That was when I overheard him tell Maria she never needed to work because he had enough money to care for her in style. He said she needn’t grub around in the dirt for a living.

The bling glittered and so did his eyes as he stared at Maria. I stood aside and pretended to peruse the flowers but kept an eye on him. Where did the gold jewelry and fancy clothing come from, I’d wondered? He didn’t seem to work, and my father said he didn’t come from money. Dad knew the family from his childhood.

These thoughts rambled on in my head until eventually my eyelids shuttered and I slept. It wasn’t until the alarm sounded that I realized I’d managed a few good hours of rest. Still sore from the accident, I slid from bed and headed into the shower before my usual cup of java.

Coffee at my place is most always on automatic. I set the pot up whenever it becomes empty, especially at night before I head to bed. I started the habit when I first moved into my own digs.

Grasping clothes from the closet, I quickly dressed. If I didn’t get rolling now, I’d never get across the George Washington Bridge before the traffic slowed to a crawl. It was inevitable that some fool would smash into another every morning, and the traffic would come to a screaming halt.

A knock on the outer door caught my attention. With a quick step, I opened it to find Lola on the doorstep.

“I knew you’d need a ride, so I’m going to take you to pick up a rental. My cousin Arty has a place on Killingly Street, in Johnston. He has a car ready for you to pick up, okay?” She smiled the irresistible smile that made men fall at her feet.

I hugged the slight woman and grinned. With a tall stainless steel Eddie Bauer coffee mug filled to the brim, a package of crackers, and my bulky book bag, I headed to the car, trailing behind Lola. She backed into the traffic and we drove east.

Within minutes, we arrived at Arty’s used car lot.
Oh, my God. Where did he get these wrecks?

Lola took one look at my face and promised to take me car shopping later. We stepped from the MINI Cooper and strode toward the office. Arty, red-bearded and bald-domed, stepped forward, his hand extended. I shook his hand and he set the keys on the counter. His potbelly spoke of good food, and the short stumpy legs wobbled when he swung toward the front window.

“Take the Volkswagen Beetle over there on the corner.” He pointed to the yellow car squatting by the curb. “Just bring it back in one piece, okay? It’s the best of the bunch.”

No doubt there, I thought, as my gaze swept over cars that had seen way better days. With a smile, I turned toward the portly man. He must have heard of my penchant for the unexpected. I nodded and thanked him as I signed rental papers. He ran my credit card and winked at me while he did so.

Lola left for the deli and I swung onto the highway, headed east toward the university. Hopefully, during this trip, my luck would hold. The car coughed, puffed smoke, but didn’t break down.

With bated breath, I crossed the G.W. and made the exit to the university. In a matter of moments, the car chugged into the parking lot. My glance rested on the other cars parked nearby. No one. No drivers sat behind the wheels of the cars that I could see. It wasn’t until I crossed the open space between the car and the college that I knew I wasn’t as alone as I thought.

A motor revved, tires squealed, and a dark-windowed sedan sped in my direction. I dropped the book bag and ran back to my car. It was closer than running to the sidewalk outside the building.

Reaching the car, the toe of my shoe caught on the tire of the Volkswagen and I sprawled flat on the ground. I heard the car race past and then the sound receded. Apparently the jerk wasn’t about to stop and check to see if I was still alive.

I was shaken. Fear and anger mingled and pulsed through my system. I sat up and checked my hands. Scraped skin and tiny pebbles were embedded into the heels of my palms. It was the only damage I could see. I stood up, dusted off my clothes, and streaked across the lot, retrieving the book bag as I went.

Reluctant to report the attempt on my life, I stood on the sidewalk shaking like a leaf. There was nothing to tell really. Since I hadn’t seen the driver, and I didn’t know the make of the car – or any other pertinent information – the cops might think I finally lost my marbles.

Before entering the building, I glanced around the grounds for the car, driver, or any stranger that appeared suspicious, but the campus was quiet.
Could the driver have been Tony or someone he knew, someone who would be happy to run me down for a little extra cash?

I stepped into the rest room before I headed to class. Locking myself into a stall, I sat on the toilet and took several deep breaths, trying to calm my shattered nerves. I checked my watch and knew I needed to get moving. The class would be waiting.

Uneasy about the incident, I started the lecture on a shaky note, though nobody seemed to notice. Hours passed with no surprises, arguments, or problems. Everyone listened while I explained the homework assignment. A subdued group, they left without any wisecracks or loud discussions. I sighed, relieved to have been given this slight reprieve.

Chapter 8

The car puffed back to the village. I parked in front of the garage next to the Dodge Ram truck Marcus leaned against. From the look on his face I figured something untoward happened. Hopefully he wasn’t aware of my run down experience this morning.

With a mental head slap I knew he couldn’t know because nobody knew. I’d been smart enough to keep my mouth shut.

With a wide smile – though I felt far from smiling – I asked on a cheerful note, “Hey, what are you doing here? Got the day off?” What an actress, huh?

“No, but I wanted to stop by before I reported to headquarters.” His eyes wandered over the rental car. “Where did you get that rattletrap?”

“Lola’s cousin rented it to me so I could get to work today.”

“You couldn’t take another day off, could you?”

His eyes gleamed. I wondered why.

“I felt well enough to go to work. I’m sore, but that’s all.” I beckoned him to follow me into the house and set the coffee to perk.

“Tell me about Tony,” he stated in a flat voice as he settled at the counter.

“Not that again.”

“I want you to tell me what happened in the past between you two.”

“Fine.” My hands flew up in the air. “Just relax, will you? You’re making me nervous.”

“Nothing makes you nervous. Just explain what happened with Tony back then.” Marcus leaned his elbows on the counter and patiently waited for me to explain.

Marcus is good at interrogation – I’ll give him that. He didn’t get into my space and he appeared relaxed, with his hands folded lightly in front of him. He even spoke in a soft voice to lull me so I’d spill my guts.

“Two years ago, I lived in Cranston.” I explained the location of the duplex and about the owners. Marcus just nodded every now and then, but he never uttered a sound. He let me step back in time.

“Maria Grimano, a friend from high school, owned a florist shop where I used to buy plants. Tony hung there all the time, totally enamored with her. He never seemed to work, but he had lots of gold jewelry hanging off his body and fancy clothes, stuff like that. Anyway, one day I overheard him tell Maria she needn’t ever work for a living, that he could take care of her in splendid fashion. While I was replacing a plant I’d managed to kill, I listened as he went on and on about the life they’d have.”

I rose and filled coffee cups with the fresh-perked brew.

Silent, Marcus waited for me to continue.

“During the conversation, I wandered around the shop and listened. I wondered where he got the bling and clothes. He sure didn’t have the hands of a workman and his family didn’t have money. Needless to say, I became more than curious, and then started questioning a few of the cops I knew.”

“What did you find out?”

“It was weird, really. Nobody knew much about him. No warrants, no traffic violations, no arrests of any kind. A squeaky-clean kind of guy, you know?

It just didn’t add up. I decided to mind my own business until I ran across him doing a deal at the flower shop. Maria had a dentist appointment, and Tony ran the shop while she was gone. I went in to get some fresh flowers for my mother, and caught him finishing a drug sale to some scumbag. He tried to appear nonchalant and innocent, but I knew what I saw.”

“What happened when you approached him about it? I know you must have – you can’t help yourself.” Marcus smirked a bit but continued to watch me.

“I asked him what the hell he thought he was doing. He tried to play it down, but I wouldn’t have it. So, he got mad and told me I’d mind my own business, if I knew what was good for me. I said I would, and left it at that.”

“I can’t believe you’d do that.”

“Right.” I shrugged one shoulder. “I watched and waited, and a month went by. He was in the shop again and the same thing happened. This time we got into a heated discussion over what this would do to Maria if the cops ever found out he used her shop as a dealership for his drug business. He just grinned, bluffed, and said she knew and didn’t care.

“It was a slap in the face for me, but I suspected he was lying.”

The coffee had grown tepid as I told the story. I sipped and talked while Marcus listened and said nothing.

“One day when Tony wasn’t around, I mentioned drug dealing to Maria – nothing pointed mind you, just in general. She immediately said that all drug dealers should be drawn and quartered. Her brother had been hooked on prescription drugs. When he couldn’t get them from the pharmacy anymore, he turned to street dealers. It nearly cost him his life.” I sighed and continued the story. My shoulder starting to ache.

“I realized Maria would never go along with any drug deals, in or outside her shop, so I told her what I’d seen. At first she didn’t believe me, so I challenged her to set him up and watch from a distance with binoculars. Reluctant at first, Maria finally agreed to do it. We parked down the street in my father’s car, facing the store with a clear view right into it. It must have been hard on her since she was engaged to him. We all know love is blind.”

“She watched him deal drugs?”

“Yeah. She cried and I felt like crap. Maria waited a week or so and then broke it off with him. I got blamed. Rightly so in Tony’s mind, and he started stalking me. Tony couldn’t bear the thought that Maria wouldn’t listen to him.” Anger crept into my voice. “After all, he was all and everything, ya know what I mean?” My forgotten fear and uneasiness of the past resurfaced in full force as I relived the events, and I was uncomfortable.

“Then what happened?”

Refreshing our coffees, I said, “This stalking thing went on for quite a while. Worried, I went the legal route to get him off my back with a restraining order. We all know that restraining orders don’t help when someone is hell-bent on getting even with you.” I leaned back in the chair with a sigh and rubbed my neck. I hadn’t realized how tense I’d become. I wanted to change the topic.

“You’re going to tell me what happened next, right?” His eyes bore into me.

Could he read my thoughts?
Squirming in the chair, I stared at the counter top. The napkin beside my cup was scrunched out of shape in my hand. I methodically smoothed it out while I summoned the courage to finish the story. To be stalked is frightening enough, but to have someone set fire to your home, while you’re asleep in it, that’s a different matter. It leaves a lasting impression. Goosebumps crawled over my arms. I rubbed them with the palms of my hands.

Marcus waited in silence, his face expressionless. This man could outwait me, and I knew it. I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

“One night I got home late, exhausted. I’d taught all week and covered extra classes for a professor who was sick. I fell asleep as soon as I hit the pillow. Around two in the morning I awoke, choking on smoke. My bedroom door led to the kitchen and was cracked open a bit. I could see flames. If I hadn’t awakened, I’d have died of smoke inhalation.”

“How did the cops link the fire to him?”

“The jerk left the evidence handy. The cops figured Tony may have been scared away or something of that nature. Anyway, later they traced the gas can he left behind back to him and the cops locked him up. He pleaded mental duress, and, because he had no record, the judge sent him to the looney bin for evaluation. Tony did such a good job of convincing everyone he was a nutcase that they kept him for the duration of his sentence, with a parole option attached. That’s the whole story.”

“You must have been frightened when he stalked you.” His voice, not so soft now, sounded curious.

“It wasn’t the highlight of my life, I can tell you that. I never thought he was unhinged enough to act so irrationally, but he blamed me for the split with Maria, and the fact that he was caught in an arson. Tony never did confess to the drug thing, though the investigators harassed him for information. He wouldn’t give up a name, and the supplier was never found.”

“Are you worried about him now?” Marcus asked, as he refilled the coffee mugs once more.

“No, I think he’s paid his debt and that’s it. Why the insistence on the story, Marcus? Surely you don’t think he was behind the car accident? He shovels shit for a living. I’m sure he has better things to do than skulk around pushing my car off the road.”