Penne Dreadful Read online

  Ned gave me a satisfied smirk as he watched my face fall, and he sat back down in his chair. He must have already figured he’d won this round. “I’m sorry for you, Mrs. Esposito.”

  I clenched my fists at my sides. “I don’t want your sympathy.”

  He leaned back in the chair and studied me. “You’re like a loyal dog who’s been kicked around too many times and keeps going back for more. But I’m going to throw you a bone.”

  Uneasiness crept up my spine. “What does that mean?”

  Ned picked up a pen and tapped it against his stained front teeth. “I remember Dylan saying that you were a fantastic cook. Italian food is your specialty, I believe. Can you make a pizza pie?”

  What was he getting at? Did he know I was working at Slice? “Yes, I can make pizza. And your point is?”

  He shook his head sadly. “Let’s just say that your husband had his fingers in several pies, if you get my drift.”

  I exhaled deeply, and the air left my lungs in one sharp, painful movement. “Are you saying that my husband was involved in something else illegal?”

  He leaned forward across the desk, his beady eyes pinned on me. “I’m saying you’d better get out of my office now, before I call security.”

  “Tell me,” I pleaded. “What do—”

  Ned lifted up the receiver of his desk phone and pressed a button, his eyes fixed on mine the entire time, waiting for my reaction. Having no choice, I backed out of the room. A slow smile of triumph spread across his face, my last image of him as I shut the door.

  I hastily made my way back to the elevator. There wasn’t a soul around. Like rats, everyone scurried as soon as the workday was done. I stared out the glass-paneled wall and into the night as I rode down to the lobby. Lost in thought, I pushed through the heavy exit doors, deeply inhaling the chilly air. Ned was still hiding something, I was convinced. For all I knew, maybe he’d been the one to talk Dylan into the embezzlement scheme. It would be more than enough reason to want Dylan out of the way if he’d threatened to blow the whistle.

  My biggest concern was his snide remark that hinted Dylan had been involved in something else. The dread I carried in the bottom of my stomach was heavier than a bag of rocks. Had Ned lied to me? I couldn’t be sure.

  I stood in front of the building for a couple of minutes, staring at my phone and mentally trying to compose a text to Gino about Ned’s alibi for the day of Dylan’s death, but I was still shaking from the confrontation. As I crossed the street, the roar of an engine jerked me out of my thoughts. A dark sedan with high-intensity headlights. was moving down the one-way street at a furious pace toward me. I put a hand to my eyes to shield the brightness, but it was of no use. Instead of slowing, the car started to pick up speed as it approached. I shrieked and leaped forward, my foot catching the edge of the curb and forcing me to fall forward onto the pavement. My hands flew out in time to protect my face from any damage.

  As I lay on my side on the cold, wet cement, I stared after the car, but it was too late. The license plate had been covered, and I couldn’t even identify what type of model it was. Shakily, I got to my feet. Nothing seemed to be broken. I’d scraped my knees during the process, but it could have been much worse.

  A woman who had been parked a few spaces away moved her car next to me and rolled her window down. “Are you okay, hon?” she asked.

  I nodded, wincing from a deep cut on my palm. “I think so.”

  She frowned. “I saw the whole thing. Do you want me to call 911?”

  “I’m all right. Thank you for stopping.”

  She lingered for a second, watching me with concern, then drove away while I tried to make sense of what had happened. With legs resembling Jell-O, I hobbled to my car, fully aware of a painful throbbing in my ankle. I must have twisted it when I fell. I started the engine, wanting to put distance between me and this incident. As soon as I got home, I dialed Gino’s number. After I relayed what had happened, he sounded anything but pleased.

  “Why were you down there?” he asked after checking to make sure that I was all right.

  There was no sense in lying to him, especially if Ned went to the police about my so-called harassment. Somehow, I didn’t believe he would though. “I went to see Dylan’s boss, Ned Reinhart. Remember how I asked you to check him out?”

  There was dead silence on the other end, and I could almost picture my cousin looking down at his shoes and cussing under his breath. “I did check him out and was going to call you shortly with my findings. The man is clean.”

  “I don’t care. Archie thinks he’s the guy Dylan met with the day before he died. He claims that he was in Michigan the day of Dylan’s death. Can you check it out? I mean, why would Dylan meet with Ned after he lost his job? It had to have something to do with the embezzlement. Even if Ned didn’t kill Dylan, he had to have at least been in on the We Care scheme with him.”

  Gino was quiet for a few seconds. “I’ll look into it. But that’s still a pretty strong assumption based only on his having coffee with your husband. It doesn’t make him a killer or even an embezzler.”

  I was growing more annoyed by the second. “What about Vince? Did you check him out too?”

  “I haven’t found anything yet. My sources probably won’t get back to me until tomorrow.”

  “And Izzy?”

  He sighed. “She has a rock-solid alibi for the day of Dylan’s accident. She was out of town at an overnight spa.”

  “Which means nothing. She could’ve had someone do the dirty work for her.”

  “Try to relax, Tess. I promise we’ll find out who did this.”

  Unconvinced, I disconnected the call. I was too stressed and upset to think straight. There was a killer walking around scot-free tonight, and the knowledge upset and frustrated me. I changed into a light-blue silk nightgown that Dylan had given me for my last birthday. I should have tried to eat something but wasn’t hungry. Instead, I climbed into bed and sat there for a long time, lost in my own thoughts.

  At about nine o’clock, the doorbell rang. Luigi jumped out of bed and waited for me by the front door. I glanced through the peephole. Justin. I undid the chain and opened the door. “Hi. Come on in.”

  “Sorry to stop by so late.” Justin smiled as he followed me into the living room, but he looked even worse than he had the night before. His hair was a mess, there were dark circles under his eyes, and he smelled of smoke. It had to have been tough on Natalie while they were married, wondering if one evening he might never come home to her.

  I knew that Lucy went through the same issue with Gino’s job, and we’d discussed it a few times. Firefighters and police officers put their lives on the line daily, while my husband had worked behind a secure desk all day. The ironic part was that I’d always been secretly grateful I didn’t have to deal with the same fears they did. But in the end, it was my husband’s life that had been taken. If there was a lesson to be learned here it was to never take anything for granted.

  “No problem. Come sit.” I patted the seat next to me on the couch. “Didn’t you have today off?”

  “Yes, but we were shorthanded, and there was a huge blaze in an abandoned building on the outskirts of town. Thankfully, no one was hurt.”

  “You look worn out. Can I make you some coffee?”

  He shook his head and sat down next to me. “No thanks. I think I need to sleep. I can barely see straight.” His eyes moved down my figure, and I remembered that I was still in my nightgown. How embarrassing.

  “Excuse me for a second. I’ll be right back.” I hurried upstairs into my bedroom and grabbed my pink satin robe off the bottom of the bed. When I went back down to the living room, Justin had his head in his hands as if it ached. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “You look pretty tired yourself,” Justin remarked. “Well, what I meant is you look both pretty and tir
ed. In a good way.” He grinned, his cheeks becoming tinted with color.

  I laughed. “Mr. Kelly, the fire department really needs to give you some time off. Those fumes must be going to your head.”

  Justin was silent for a moment. “I was still worried about you and what happened last night, so I wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay.”

  “That was thoughtful,” I said. “But I’m fine.” He must have sensed a shift in my tone because he continued to watch me intently. “Maybe we can talk tomorrow, if you have time.”

  Justin cocked an eyebrow in surprise. “I always have time for you. Come on, what’s wrong? Maybe I can help. Talk to me, Tess.”

  “You know me too well,” I sighed. “There’s something I need to ask you about Dylan, and I want you to tell me the truth, no matter how difficult it might be.”

  A frown spread across his face, but he nodded. “Okay. Shoot.”

  I blew out a breath. “Did Dylan ever tell you that he was involved in something illegal?”

  Justin looked at me in amazement. “Sorry, are we talking about the same guy here? Your husband. My best friend. Right?”

  Flustered, I twisted a tissue between my hands. “I know this sounds crazy, but Dylan was stealing money.”

  His jaw dropped. “What? From who?”

  “His employer.” I still couldn’t believe it myself. “They found out about the theft, and he was fired.”

  Justin swore softly. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes.” My voice shook, and he reached for my hand, encompassing it between his two strong ones. “I don’t understand how he could do this or why.” Ned’s words echoed in my head: Your husband had his fingers in several pies, if you get my drift. What else had Dylan been involved in?

  “When did all of this happen?” Justin asked.

  “A few weeks before he died.” I glanced down at his hands. He was gliding his thumb across my palm gently, and the warmth of his fingers was comforting. Suddenly, my mother’s words from the other night entered my head, and for the first time ever, I found myself wondering if Justin did care for me as more than a friend. My head started to spin. Justin was a wonderful person, but I had nothing to give him or any other man right now and wouldn’t for a long time. The last thing I wanted to do was lead him on, so I stiffened my hands slightly, giving his fingers an affectionate squeeze, then pulled away.

  Justin shook his head emphatically. “I had no idea about the stealing or that he’d been fired. Honest.” He then sat in silence for a minute, and something about the action bothered me. Finally, he spoke again. “This is so unreal, Tess. It’s none of my business, but were you guys having money problems? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but it would explain a lot.”

  “No. We were doing okay, so why did he have to steal? What did he plan to do with the money?”

  Justin shrugged. “I don’t know, but he never would have wanted to hurt you like this. I know how much Dylan loved you.”

  “But it does hurt me,” I whispered. The spasms in my chest were suddenly so intense that I couldn’t draw a deep breath without pain. Then the tears came, sliding down my cheeks like raindrops. “He’s not the man I thought he was, and our marriage was a farce. I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

  Justin put his arms around me and stroked my hair as I sobbed into his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out together, Tess,” he said gruffly. “I’m here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone. I promise.”

  Fourteen

  The next morning, I showered, dressed, and planned to spend the day watching mindless television until Gabby came to pick me up at three o’clock for Eric’s wake. I’d just finished my first cup of coffee when the phone rang. Anthony.

  “Hi, honey, how’s it going? Did you get any rest yesterday?”

  “Some,” I said. “How’s everything at Slice?”

  He hesitated on the other end. “Well, the media stopped by yesterday, about the Eric situation. Only one reporter. Of course, there’s nothing to tell. It’s a shame what happened to the kid, but that type of random shooting is nothing new. There’s a lot of crazy people in this world.”

  It sounded like Anthony was trying to brush over Eric’s death, and I found myself wondering why. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll be at work tomorrow.”

  Anthony cleared his throat. “I know it’s your day off, but I was wondering if you might be able to make some more sauce. I’m expecting a big crowd tonight.”

  Again with the sauce. I suspected he didn’t have a big crowd for dinner. There was no way he could have gone through the batch I’d made the other day. Vince had stored several containers in the cooler. What was Anthony really doing with my sauce? “Ah, what time?”

  “I’m closing at two so that Vince and I can go to Eric’s wake. No one will be back until about four. How about you come over at four thirty? Unless you want to come by now? That would be great.”

  I gripped the phone tightly between my hands. No one would be at Slice for two whole hours. A golden opportunity for some snooping. Quickly, I thought up a lie. “Gee, my day is pretty full, Anthony. You see, I’m having people over for dinner too. My entire family. I could stop over about three o’clock, but that’s the only time that works for me.”

  “Damn.” Anthony was silent for several seconds. “Maybe I can get Butchy or Sam to meet you there and let you in.”

  Shoot. That would ruin everything. “Oh, it’s not necessary. I’ll be fine by myself. I’ll make the sauce, clean up, and then lock the door.”

  He paused for a moment. “Uh, well, okay. I’ll tell you what. I can leave a key in an envelope taped to the dumpster. Place it on the stove when you’re done, okay?”

  “I’m planning to stop by the wake for a few minutes. Shall I give it to you then? What time will you be there? Oh, and what should I do about the alarm?”

  “No, leave the key in the kitchen.” He paused. “The code for the alarm is Izzy’s birthday, 1229. So you’ll be here at three o’clock?”

  It was my turn to hesitate. “Yes, at three.” I’d have Gabby pick me up earlier than we planned, in case Butchy or Sam turned up to check on me. “Where would you like me to put the sauce?”

  “You know what?” Anthony asked. “Why don’t you call me as soon as you get to Slice, and I’ll tell you where to leave it. I’ll have to make some room for it first. And I’ll add a little extra dough to your paycheck as a thank you.” He laughed.

  “Sure thing,” I said and clicked off. Anthony didn’t seem to want me at Slice alone. What was he afraid I might find? I thought about phoning Gino but knew he would not be on board with this plan of mine. Instead, I called Gabby and asked her to pick me up at 1:45 instead of 3:00, the time we’d originally planned for the wake.

  Gabby groaned into the phone. “There’s no way I can get to your house until two, and I need to go home and change first. We got a new shipment of books in a day ahead of schedule, so I’m here helping Liza with them. This has really messed up my entire day.”

  Damn. “Well, as soon as you can. We have to stop at Slice before the wake so I can let my fingers do the walking through Anthony’s desk.”

  “Why didn’t you say that in the first place? I’ll be as quick as I can.”

  I had no intention of cooking sauce at Slice today. As I pulled ten bags from my freezer, I was grateful that I had stocked up during the dark weeks following Dylan’s death. Remembering those few soothing moments at my stove, I was again happy I had never given anyone my recipe. It was a special bond between my grandmother and myself and, as far as I was concerned, would always stay that way. I hated the thought of someone confiscating our beloved creation for their own personal gain. Still, I needed to ride this out for now. I didn’t want to give Anthony a reason to get rid of me until I knew exactly what was going on between Slice’s four walls.

>   Gabby didn’t arrive at my house until 2:05. As soon as she pulled in the driveway, I locked the front door behind me, hurried over to her car, and hopped in.

  “Sorry,” she said as she backed the vehicle out onto the street. “I did the best I could.”

  “I’m afraid Anthony might send someone over to see how I’m getting on. He asked me to call him when I arrived at Slice. He doesn’t trust me.”

  A smile broke across Gabby’s face as she pressed her foot down on the gas pedal. “With good reason.”

  “Slow down!” I said. “This is no time to get a ticket.”

  She laughed but eased up on the gas. “It would be just our luck if Gino was the one to pull us over. I’d get a three-hour lecture for sure.”

  Traffic was light, and we arrived at Slice in a few minutes. I had no idea how much time I might have until someone showed up, but one thing was for certain—I wasn’t calling Anthony. At least not yet. When I spotted the dumpster, another idea crossed my mind. “Hang on one second,” I told Gabby.

  “What?” she asked, but I jumped out of the car without answering. An envelope with my name on it was taped to the side of the dumpster facing the building. I removed the key and stuck it into the kitchen door. The alarm immediately started beeping when the door opened. I entered 1229 into the panel’s keypad, and the noise abruptly stopped. I ran back over to Gabby’s car and handed her the key. “Here. Run over to World of Hardware and have a duplicate made.”

  Gabby’s mouth fell open in shock. “Are you sure? I’m not comfortable leaving you here alone. I can play lookout in the parking lot and—oh, I don’t know, press the horn if someone comes along?”

  I winked at her slyly. “Yeah, that’s tactful. They know I’m making sauce, remember? It shouldn’t take you more than ten minutes, and no one’s due to show up until three. The hardware store’s usually not crowded this time of the day either.”

  Gabby gave me a nervous look. “Tess, please be careful.” She put the car in Drive and roared out of the parking lot.