Penne Dreadful Page 19

  Justin studied me, noting my embarrassment. “Don’t worry, I was the perfect gentleman,” he said breezily, trying to relieve some of the tension from the room. I let out the breath I was holding in, happy to get back on secure ground, but his gray eyes quickly turned smoky as he added, “But you didn’t make it easy for me.”

  Oh boy. I gulped and took another sip from my mug, at a loss for what else to say.

  Mercifully, he changed the subject. “Come on. Let’s get some food into you. Maybe it will help that headache go away, and then you can take a shower afterward.” He stood and offered a hand to me, and like that, the tension disappeared. We were back to being friends again.

  After I was on my feet, Luigi meowed loudly, and Justin picked him up in his arms. “I already fed the boss. He was looking for breakfast at six.”

  “I owe you,” I said gratefully.

  Justin shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything. We’re friends, remember? This is what friends do for each other. I’ll never forget how good you and Dylan were to me after Natalie moved out, especially you—always inviting me for dinner or sending Dylan over with a plate. That meant a lot to me.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal. You hardly ever came by anymore, and I…well, we worried and wanted to make sure you took care of yourself.”

  He averted his eyes. “I think it’s obvious why I avoided coming here after Natalie left, isn’t it?”

  Silence filled the room before I managed an answer. “Yes.” It hadn’t occurred to me before that Justin might have been nursing a crush on me. Dylan and I had been in love, so why would I have even considered it? Still, when I looked back, there were signs that I must have chosen to ignore, like the time Dylan had been in the hospital for an appendectomy last year and Justin kept me company in the waiting room. He’d held my hand as I worried and asked what had first attracted me to Dylan. He’d wanted to know everything—what I loved most about him, why I’d decided to go out with him. At the time, I’d attributed it to his recent breakup with Natalie. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

  He paused in the doorway, Luigi lying contentedly in his arms. “We’ll talk more during breakfast.”

  “Let me brush my teeth first. I’ll meet you downstairs.” I walked into the bathroom and glanced at my reflection in the mirror, blowing out a sigh. As I’d suspected, my eyes were bloodshot from crying, my hair was mussed, and my face had a haggard appearance compounded from lack of sleep. The sad part was that I didn’t even care anymore. I splashed water on my face and pinned the unruly curls back in a clip. I brushed my teeth, tasting last night’s wine during the process. Ugh. I tried to remember our conversation and recalled that Justin seemed to be holding something back. Did he know more about Dylan’s lies than he was letting on?

  When I went into the kitchen, he was standing next to the breakfast counter, coffee mug in hand, reading the paper. He looked up when I entered the room and gave me a warm smile. “Feel better?”

  “Somewhat.” I waited as he pulled out a stool for me and then glanced down at my plate. There were scrambled eggs, bacon, and an English muffin. “It looks wonderful. Thank you.”

  His eyes softened as he refilled my coffee mug. “I was happy to do it.”

  I took a bite of the muffin. “Last night, I must have said some things that sounded pretty strange, but they happen to be true. Dylan was embezzling from We Care. I also think he was blackmailing Anthony’s daughter at Slice. Dylan never told me he’d been fired. He kept a lot of secrets from me.”

  Justin said nothing, and the silence was deafening.

  I blew out a steady breath. “I want to ask you something and need you to please be honest with me, okay?”

  He drew his brows together. “You know I will.”

  “I checked Dylan’s voicemail messages,” I said. “There was one from you, about getting together for coffee. It was a few days before he died. You sounded worried about him. Did you ever meet up with him?”

  To his credit, he didn’t look away from me. “Yes, we talked.”

  “Tell me what was going on with him,” I implored.

  “Tess, I—”

  “Tell me,” I pleaded. “He was sick, wasn’t he?”

  Sadness crept into his eyes as he nodded. “I thought maybe he’d told you, but you never mentioned it, so I wasn’t sure. He had a condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. A form of heart disease.”

  “He was only thirty,” I protested. “How could he have had heart disease?”

  Justin held fast to my hand. “Apparently, it’s not uncommon for someone our age. He started having shortness of breath a few months back and stopped working out with me at the gym. I’m guessing he never told you about the breathing problems.”

  “No,” I whispered. “He kept me completely in the dark.” We were quiet for a few seconds, then I managed to choke out three words. “Was he dying?”

  His face was full of misery. “I don’t know. He said the doctor wanted him to have open-heart surgery. She thought he had a good chance, but I think Dylan was putting her off. He mentioned getting a second opinion.” He paused. “Honest, he didn’t tell me much, Tess. I practically had to force it out of him.”

  “But at least you knew.” I wasn’t sure who to be angry with now—Justin or Dylan. “I was his wife, and he never told me anything. Did I mean that little to him?”

  “I think it was the opposite,” he said solemnly. “I’m sure he would have told you eventually.”

  My body jolted upright, as if he’d given me an electric shock. “Eventually? Eventually doesn’t cut it. He could have gotten sick some night when we were in bed together. I could have woken up to find him—oh God.” Like a waterfall, the tears stared again. “I don’t believe this.”

  I had thought things couldn’t get any worse. Being fired from a job, embezzling, and murder apparently weren’t enough to deal with. How much more did I have to take?

  Justin squeezed my hand. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. If it helps, I told him he should talk to you right away. I didn’t see him again after we got together for coffee at Java Time. Three days later, Dylan—” He didn’t finish the sentence.

  I wiped away my tears and stared at him. “How could you not tell me?”

  His tanned face turned crimson. “I wanted to, but Dylan made me promise not to.”

  “He’s been dead over a month,” I protested. “You’ve had plenty of time. I told you last night that he had a bad heart. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

  Justin rose to his full six-foot height and paused for a second too long. “I—I wasn’t sure what you were talking about last night. It… You weren’t making much sense. And I did try to tell you the other night—after the shooting. But then Gabby called, and I figured maybe it would be too much for you to deal with in one day.”

  Anger formed a ball in the pit of my stomach. “This is great. I guess there really is no one that I can trust.”

  Justin’s mouth dropped open in amazement. “How can you say that? I’d never deliberately do anything to hurt you.” He reached out to take my hand again. “Don’t you realize how much you mean to me?”

  The truth was I did have an idea, but that didn’t make any difference. Maybe deep down I realized I was being unreasonable, but it still felt like a betrayal. I pushed his hand away. “Go home.”

  He shook his head vehemently. “Forget it. I’m not leaving. Someone has to look after you.”

  “I can take care of myself. Now please respect my wishes and leave.” It hurt me to say the words out loud, and from the look on his face, it bothered him as well.

  After a long moment of silence, he straightened up again, his jaw set in a determined lock. “Sure. You know where to find me if you need anything.”

  I remained in my seat, staring straight ahead into the kitchen, when I heard the front door close behind me
a few seconds later.

  I marched upstairs into the bathroom to take a shower, angry at the world. Why did everyone insist on treating me like a delicate flower? Poor Tessa can’t handle it. We have to protect her. Gino, Justin, and Dylan had all lied to me. Even Matt fell into that category, if I was allowed to go back in time. What was it with men? Weren’t any of them capable of telling the truth?

  With a sigh, I stepped into the shower and turned the spray on as hot as I could stand it, hoping it would make the cold, sickening feeling in my stomach dissipate. Ten minutes later, I dried off, grabbed my pink robe from the hook, and opened the door.

  Luigi was slumbering away on Dylan’s pillow, without a care in the world. I went back downstairs, suddenly unsure of what to do with myself. The house seemed too empty and quiet with Justin gone. My cold breakfast was still sitting on the breakfast counter, waiting for me.

  Guilt set in and my eyes began to grow moist. Fighting back the tears, I opened the wastebasket and slowly lowered the food inside.

  * * *

  An hour later, the sauce had started to simmer on the stove. As I inhaled the smell of fresh tomatoes, onions, and basil, I almost felt like my old self again. My wooden spoon went around the inside of the steel pot as I adjusted the flame underneath for fear of burning my delectable creation. I scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and savored the taste. It was satisfying yet a tiny bit greasy and not as thick as usual. Had I forgotten an ingredient? Impossible. I could make this sauce blindfolded. Still, it needed something. I went to the fridge and added a half cup of chianti wine to the mixture, then breathed in the heavenly aroma. Somehow, I’d get through this day.

  My cell buzzed from the counter, and I was tempted to ignore it. From a few feet away, I saw Gino’s name pop up on the screen. Another liar. “Leave me alone,” I whispered to the phone.

  After I had finished cutting up a tiny piece of braciole for Luigi, there was a banging on my front door. Cripes. No one would let me be for one lousy, stinking day. Like the sauce, my anger bubbled dangerously close to the surface. I knew who it was even before I heard his voice.

  “Tess?” Gino shouted. “Let me in.”

  Having no choice, I unlocked the door and opened it. Gino stepped in the entranceway and put a hand on my shoulder. “You okay?” he asked.

  “No, I’m not okay. What do you want?”

  He seemed taken aback by my attitude. “I’d like you to come down to the station with me.”

  “For what? I’ve told you everything I know so far.” My voice cracked. “Oh, except for the newest bulletin. It seems that my husband was very ill. So if someone hadn’t rigged his car, he might have died anyway.”

  Gino’s expression was puzzled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “He had a heart condition and needed surgery.” Despite everything, I let out a hollow, bitter laugh. “Wow. You think you know a person, especially after you’ve been together for almost ten years. Boy, was I wrong.”

  His mouth dropped open. “God, Tess. I had no idea. How did you find out?”

  “There was a message on Dylan’s phone from his doctor about a missed appointment. The office wouldn’t give me any information, so I asked Justin. Dylan told his best friend but couldn’t be bothered to tell me.”

  “I wish to hell this wasn’t happening to you,” he said grimly. “But there’s a chance we might have solved the mystery of Dylan’s death. That’s why I want you to come with me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I went back to talk to Earl Horowitz,” Gino explained. “The guy cracked like an egg this time. He said that Matt was at the shop the day Dylan brought his car in.”

  My heart sank. “I don’t understand. Why would Matt lie about it?”

  “You can find out for yourself,” Gino replied. “He’s down at the station and has asked to see you.”

  Twenty

  Sergeant Ray Warner, Gino’s boss, was waiting for us. He was accompanied by Matt, sitting in a rigid position in front of Gino’s desk. Matt’s hands gripped the sides of the chair so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. His face was drawn and his skin an ashen tone. He looked up expectantly as Gino and I entered the room.

  Gino gestured toward his boss. “Tess, do you know Sergeant Warner?”

  I nodded. “Yes, we’ve met.” He’d been nice enough to come to Dylan’s wake and had brought his wife with him.

  Ray Warner was in his late fifties with thick, salt-and-pepper hair and emerald-colored eyes that didn’t seem to miss much. He extended a cool, strong hand to shake mine. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Esposito.” He cut his eyes to Matt. “It appears our visitor has requested your presence.”

  Matt wasted no time in getting to his feet and walking over to us. Gino positioned his body in front of mine.

  “Mancusi, I just want to talk to her.”

  “It’s all right,” I assured Gino. “Can we have a minute alone?”

  “Absolutely not,” Gino said. “I’m not leaving you in this room with him.”

  Matt shot him a death glare. “Come on. How long have you known me? I’d never do anything to hurt Tessa.”

  “Maybe not,” Gino conceded. “But what about her husband? Did you want to hurt him—or perhaps even kill him?”

  Matt stared down at his oil-stained hands and fingernails outlined in black. Signs of a true mechanic. “No,” he said in a low voice. “I didn’t do anything to Dylan.”

  Gino folded his arms over his chest. “Why did you lie about being off from work the day Dylan brought his car in?”

  Matt flashed him a look of contempt. “I didn’t lie. I was scheduled off that day. I’m usually at the shop six days a week. Hell, it belongs to me, so that’s the way it’s supposed to be, right? Blood, sweat, and tears are what it takes to make a successful business. Earl was in charge of the place that day because Lila needed me to drive her to the hospital for some outpatient surgery. I’ve got a part-time guy, Jeb, who was there as well. Sure, I figured they could take care of things, but this is my bread and butter we’re talking about. After we got home that afternoon and Lila fell asleep, I figured I’d run over to see how everything was going. Earl’s a great mechanic, but he’s not the best at managing money. Do you get what I’m saying?”

  Gino straightened up. “No, I don’t. Get to the point, please.”

  “What I mean,” Matt said, “is that he likes to give everyone a discount. Now, I don’t mind a 10 percent discount for your wife or kids. But not for every damn uncle, aunt, or cousin who comes down the pike. I can’t afford that.”

  “Did you talk to Dylan that day?” Gino asked, impatience seeping into his voice.

  Matt shook his head. “I slipped in to check things out and was gone ten minutes later.”

  “So Earl lied when he told Gino that you weren’t around that day,” I broke in. “He did see you there.”

  Matt hung his head. “That’s my fault. I asked him to. When this all went down and your cousin here came to the shop to question us, I begged Earl not to say anything about me being there. I even had to give the guy a raise so he’d keep his big mouth shut.” He glared up at Gino. “Some trusting employee. I should have known he’d cave and you’d suspect me instead.”

  Gino didn’t reply.

  Matt watched me, his hazel eyes round and innocent. “I didn’t do anything to Dylan’s car, I swear it. For God’s sake, you guys have all been bringing your vehicles to me for years. Even you, Mancusi.”

  “You never liked Dylan, and we know why,” Gino said, his eyes flicking to my face.

  Deep in my heart, I didn’t believe Matt had done this. Still, his actions were making me uneasy. There was a desperate look on his face, like a trapped wild animal waiting to flee at any second. Yes, I’d heard the rumors about Matt’s drug problems and his going into rehab, but I was a firm
believer people could change, and you should give them the benefit of the doubt. But what if I was wrong? I didn’t know Lila or what their relationship was like. The text he’d sent me on the eve of my wedding still gnawed at my brain. If he was using again, could he have somehow been involved with the dealings at Anthony’s along with Dylan? Had they argued over it? Or had Matt merely hoped that with my husband out of the picture, we could find our way back to one another?

  “Okay, I admit I didn’t like him.” Matt addressed Gino, but his eyes were focused on me. “I’m never going to think that any man is good enough for Tessa. She belonged to me first.”

  “Belonged to you?” Gino’s face hardened as he echoed the word. Not a smart thing for Matt to say in front of my cousin.

  “We broke up twelve years ago, Matt,” I said calmly. “You’ve been married for what—five years now? You have three kids to worry about. No offense, but why should you care whom I’m with?”

  “Of course I care,” Matt insisted. “I love Lila and don’t want to lose her, but I’ll always care what happens to you.” His voice reeked of desperation as he continued. “Lila threw me out. She’s planning to go back to Georgia to her folks and take the kids.”

  Gino put his hands on his hips. “She’s leaving you? Hard to imagine why.”

  “Damn it!” Matt said angrily. “It wasn’t me, I swear. Why don’t you take a look at Dylan’s so-called buddies—specifically the pizza king of Harvest Park himself?”

  “What are you saying?” Gino asked.

  Matt kept his gaze pinned on me. “Dylan spent a lot of time at Slice. He even came into my shop once with that delivery kid…the one who got shot.”

  “Eric,” I murmured.

  He went on. “They were dropping Dylan’s car off. And another time, your husband came in with Anthony, and they looked pretty chummy together.”