The Spia Family Presses On (10 page)

“Thanks,” I mumbled, moving away from Leo and my momentary delusions. “I feel better. Must have been something I ate.”

“Or drank,” he joked, but I didn’t react. My drinking problem wasn’t up for ridicule, especially not with him.

“Always the wise guy,” Lisa quipped.

“Hardly, I believe that title better suits some of the characters who just bugged out of the barn. I’m just a lowly wine maker who sometimes oversteps his bounds.” He turned to me. “Sorry, Mia, but you had me worried for a minute. I guess a bad joke is my way of breaking the tension. I can be a real ass, but then you already know that.”

I gave him a guarded nod and let out the breath I’d been holding. That’s when I finally realized he was clean shaven. No beard or unkempt hair like I’d seen that morning. He was back to his usual, neat self.

We were now standing in my mom’s front yard. Everyone had gone except for my mom, Uncle Benny and Aunt Babe who sat in white rocking chairs on my mom’s porch talking, laughing as if they were oblivious to the fact there was a murdered cousin in our barn and a cop standing not more than ten feet from the murder scene.

Nick said, “I think the entire valley knows what an ass you are, but they tolerate you because your wine is so good. If you didn’t have that they’d have shunned you years ago.” He turned to Lisa and stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Nick. Don’t hold it against me that he’s my friend. It’s a childhood phenomenon. I’m an only child, and he’s the closest thing to a brother I’m ever going to have.”

Lisa took his hand in hers and in that instant I could see the attraction in her eyes. They were always her one tell, at least for me. I didn’t think anyone else noticed, but I always could, especially when she was fascinated by a guy. It was as if an inner glow radiated from her eyes. Those almond eyes of hers actually sparkled and the smile she threw Nick was genuine.

Problem was the man oozed law enforcement
—
from his clean-shaven face to his spit-shined black shoes. Not that he wasn’t easy to look at with those baby blues, and that dark blond hair flecked with golden highlights, a sharp nose and dark lashes that if, they were on a girl, they’d have to be fake. He wore a charcoal-gray knit shirt, black slacks and a smile that could melt even Lisa’s cynical heart.

Still, his timing couldn’t be worse, and I had no idea why he and Leo would show up when Leo was never invited. But the real question of the moment was why the hell didn’t I ever hear about Nick before?

“But Leo grew up here in the valley,” I said, then turned to Leo. “You never mentioned Nick before.”

“Didn’t I?” He shrugged. “I must have mentioned the summers I spent with my aunt Sophia?”

That I remembered. “Wasn’t she the one who forced you to learn Italian, and to cook, do your own laundry and essentially how to survive without the hired help?”

“None other. She also never spoke English in her house. It drove me crazy. Half the time I didn’t know what the hell she was saying. Nick saved my ass. He and I would get lost every afternoon, after my endless chores were done and I’d memorized my daily allowance of Italian.”

Lisa said, “My mother did that to me with Chinese. I hated it back then, but now I appreciate knowing the language.”

But that didn’t explain Nick. This man was a dyed-in-the-wool cop. I could feel it. “So how did you two meet? I thought Sophia never let you out of her sight.”

“She knew his dad from church, so I had an in. The good thing about Nick’s dad
—
he wasn’t anything like Sophia. The bad thing
—
he was the local Sheriff. We didn’t get away with anything. Probably what kept me out of real trouble and probably why my mom sent me to Wisconsin every summer, especially when I was a teenager. But that’s enough about us. We came here to see the man of the hour, Dickey. Where is he? I brought over a case of wine. A couple bottles of our Pinot included. But what’s up with the Spia clan? I’ve never seen them move so fast.”

“Yeah,” Nick said. “I’d like to meet Dickey. Didn’t see him leave with the rest of the folks.”

“Why?” I asked, desperately trying to remain calm. “Somehow I’d gotten the impression this was a social call.”

Nick smiled, but it was more of a smirk than a smile. “No reason. Just wanted to ask him a few questions. Get to know the locals, that sort of thing. I’ve only been in the valley for a couple weeks and haven’t had a chance to get to meet many people. When Leo mentioned this party, I thought it would be a great opportunity.”

“I bet you did,” I mumbled more to myself than to Nick.

“Come again?”

Fortunately, he didn’t hear me and I decided not to repeat myself. One absolute fact this family had taught me: never trust a cop when he/she gives an innocuous answer. Sure sign the cop was hiding something.

“So, where’s Dickey?” Leo asked. He was all smiles, as if seeing Dickey
—
again
—
was some big deal.

“He’s around here somewhere, I’m sure,” Lisa stated with all the coolness of a trained liar. I wondered where that trait had come from, but perhaps I didn’t really want to know.

“Great,” Leo said. “I was thinking he might have slipped out with the rest of your family, but if you say he’s still around then we’ll wait. I’d like to finally meet the guy.”

“I’m confused. You already met him. I’m sure that was you and Dickey out on the front porch of your tasting room this morning.”

“You already know the guy?” Nick asked.

“Me? No. I’ve heard stories about him for years, but never met him. Besides I was in a meeting for most of the morning. That couldn’t have been me you saw. He was there, all right. Bought a case of our wine, but I never saw the guy.” He said this with a straight face, a face I’d seen many times before, but could never read. That was before our last breakup. I’d learned some things about him since then. I was sure this was his big-fat-lie face: calm, no expression other than a hint of surprise that a stranger could never pick up, but I was certain I saw it in his eyes now. That flicker of guilt. It was only there for a moment, but this time I’d caught it.

That explained the Russo wine at the party. Dickey had brought it, proof positive that he’d been the man on the porch. But why would Leo lie about it? What was he hiding, and was he hiding it from me or from Nick? I had to know, but apparently I wasn’t going to get at the truth any time soon.

At that point the only thing I could do was smile and lead them to the chairs on the front lawn, away from the barn. I’d have to think of how to sneak back into it later to retrieve the gun.

Nick seemed like one of those cops who never went off duty, always carried a weapon and would turn in his own father at the hint of a crime. I wondered if he saw the lie in Leo’s eyes or was it just something I could see.

And, did he suspect Lisa and I were hiding something?

We’d have to be extra careful.

Just as we reached the chairs Lisa gazed down at her diamond studded watch. “I better get going. I have to get up early for . . . something important.”

“But
—
” I stammered.

“Yeah,” she let out a phony little yawn. “Too bad. I really would like to stay and chat, but it’s getting late.” She looked at the guys. “Nice to meet you, Nick. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” She tossed Leo a cool nod. He returned the nod and added a sheepish grin. I could tell she wasn’t receptive to his affable gesture.

“It’s not even nine o’clock. Since when is that late?” I asked.

“Since I have to get up early and do that . . . thing.”

“What thing?”

“That thing we talked about in the barn. I have to go,” she said and walked toward her car.

I left the guys and followed close behind her. When we were out of earshot I said, “Oh, no you don’t. You can’t just walk away from this and leave me here. Alone. With a dead cousin, a meddlesome cop and my human addiction. I need you. You’re my best friend and best friends stick together in sickness and in health, for better or worse, till death
—
” I stopped myself.

She turned. “You have it right, sweetie. Till death and since there’s been a death that gives me an out, so I’m taking it.”

She secured her bag over her shoulder and continued walking toward her car.

“But you can’t go,” I demanded while trying to think of a compelling reason other than I didn’t want to go through this without her. Then just as she was about to open the wooden gate to the private parking area next to the barn a chilling thought flew into my head. “It might be dangerous for you go off on your own.”

That did it. She swung back around, and walked back toward me, a look of concern on her face. “Define dangerous.”

“Isn’t that rather obvious?”

“Not really. I’ve known your family my whole life. They wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Collectively, no they probably wouldn’t, but one of them killed Dickey and since you were first on the scene that person doesn’t know what you saw. You may have spotted just the clue that could finger the killer.”

“The killer wouldn’t even consider this if you hadn’t blabbed my finding Dickey to everyone.” She planted a hand on her hip, a sure sign she was angry.

“The killer would’ve found out anyway once the police got involved.”

Her eyes narrowed. “This is getting way too deep for my comfort zone.”

“Oh, and it’s not too deep for me?”

“You grew up with this kind of madness.”

“Not up close and personal. I was always sheltered from the realities.”

Which was basically a true statement. I always knew most of my family was mobbed up, but I never knew the exact extent of it. Still don’t, and from the looks of things, that fact might be changing rather quickly.

“Well, you’re all grown up now and the family wants to bring you into its bosom. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m Chinese. I fit the job description. Your family and mine don’t quite mesh.”

“You and I do. Always have, and I’m hoping always will. And besides, this will make the perfect survival book.” I thought I’d try to appeal to her artistic nature, or at the very least, her desire to remain on the best seller list. Her head twisted slightly, dark eyes peered out at me as if I’d hit a nerve. I knew I had. She was a sucker for good copy.

“Surviving the Mob, that just might work if I can come up with the right angle,” she said, dreamily, as if she could already see the book on a shelf.

“Anything you want. Just name it. I have secrets.”

Her right eyebrow arched. “No you don’t. Not from me. I can get anything I want out of you.”

Okay, so she knew me better than I knew myself. “I can’t do this on my own. At least help me get the gun out of the futso and come up with a plan. You’re in this now. You’re part of this murder.”

“No I’m not. I can claim
—
” She stopped and looked at me. I guess I must have seemed exceptionally desperate because all at once her entire demeanor changed. “My mother always said you were a bad influence.”

“You should have listened to her.”

“I couldn’t. We were already best friends.”

“And we still are . . . aren’t we?”

She hesitated, dropped her hand from her hip and said, “What do you want me to do?”

Those few words made me so happy, I hugged her and while we were hugging I said, “First off, Leo was lying about this morning. I know that was him talking to Dickey on his veranda.”

“Why does that not surprise me? But why would he lie? What does it mean?”

“It means he has some kind of connection with Dickey that he doesn’t want to admit to.”

“But you couldn’t have been the only person who saw them this morning. It’s a busy winery.”

“Exactly, and Leo had a full beard this morning, along with long hair. At first I didn’t even recognize him.”

“Are you sure it was him?”

I refused to second guess myself. For once I was going to stand by my Leo convictions.

“I know his body and his gestures all too well. It was Leo all right.”

“Then the man is hiding something, but what?”

“I don’t know, and I hope it doesn’t have anything to do with the murder. We’ll have to figure that out later, right now we need to get rid of him and Nick, retrieve the gun, call the police and tell them everything we know, except for the bracelet and gun part.”

“What about the weird-Leo part?”

I considered that for a moment. “I’d like to talk to him about it first.”

“This is so wrong.”

I pulled away from her. “I know, but it’s only wrong for a little while. Just until we can find out who did this.”

“And just how do you intend to do that in this family? These people go to the grave defending their secrets.”

“Yeah, I know, but most of this group either turned state’s evidence or went straight after their time behind bars. They’re more likely to come clean.”

“So is that why Dickey took a bullet in his head? Because of his willingness to come clean?”

“Hadn’t thought of that one, but I’m sure we can figure it out as we go along. There’s one more thing I need to tell you, but it shouldn’t matter. Not really.”