Gino Esposito was not the most religious man in the world, but he did tend toward tradition. The fact that my aunt had taken up with another church might not shatter his world, but Tim Slaggard would need to be above-board and legit for acceptance of any kind from my dad. How had this happened?

  After Mom finished mumbling over Aunt Josephine’s stupidity, she said we’d talk later, and abruptly hung up.

  Chapter 6

  The house seemed ever so empty now that Aaron had gone to Washington, or wherever. I never knew if he was telling me the truth concerning his whereabouts, I just took his word for it. Knowing it didn’t matter what I said, he would stand firm and keep the information to himself.

  I climbed the stairs and entered his apartment. It was eerily quiet and I shivered for a second. That evening Monica Heartworthy would move in. I smiled at the thought of having a tarot reader and seer in residence. If nothing else, life wouldn’t be dull. Not that my life is ever dull or mundane, God forbid.

  I set the heat on low, locked the door behind me, and ran down the staircase. As I closed my apartment door, bumps and thumps brought me back into the hall.

  Monica glanced up from her place on the floor and gave me a wide smile. “Could you give me a hand, Vinnie?” she asked with a chuckle.

  The moving box had opened from the bottom, splaying all and sundry across the floor. With a smile, I helped her pack it up, fold the box securely, and then I lugged it up the narrow staircase for her.

  “You should really bring your belongings in through the front door. The staircase is wider and the hallway is easier to manage. I’ll unlock the door and help you,” I offered.

  “Great, that’s so nice of you, Vinnie.” Monica set the suitcase down and breathed hard from the climb up the steps. “That’s a wicked staircase, Vin.”

  “I know, I keep thinking I might do something about having it changed, but just haven’t gotten around to it. Just use the front entrance.” From the living room, I skipped down the front stairs and swung the wide oak door open.

  A bit later, we’d brought Monica’s remaining luggage into Aaron’s apartment and I was about to leave her to get settled when I turned to watch as Monica wandered through the apartment. She whirled and moved back toward me as though walking on air. Yeah, hers would be a unique stay.

  “So, what do you think?” I asked.

  “This is great. Aaron won’t mind?” Her ethereal appearance gave me pause. I’d never quite understood Monica’s talents, but I certainly had accepted them.

  “He doesn’t mind at all. He was happy that someone would be in the building with me,” I assured her.

  “You do have a penchant for finding trouble, don’t you?” Monica asked in her dreamlike voice.

  “It finds me without my trying,” I said. My cell phone, tucked away inside my pocket, rang. I peered at the number and said, “I’ll leave you to it, Monica. The extra key is on the kitchen counter.”

  My mother was on the line and I knew she might have more information for me about Josephine. I scurried down the steps while listening to her ramble on about my aunt. I tried to make sense of what she said, but she was on a roll and there would be no interrupting her. When there was a slight pause, I jumped into the conversation.

  “Mom, slow down. I don’t understand what you’re saying,” I said. “I take it you had another chat with Jo and it didn’t go the way you thought it would. Now what?”

  “Lavinia, I’m very upset. She won’t listen to reason, and she’s completely under this man’s spell, and thinks he is the next coming of Christ. Good heavens, how gullible can she be? Father Perruti will have a fit if he finds out.”

  Father Perruti was an old dragon from my days of catechism with my brother, Giovanni. A staunch believer in the old ways, he still recited the sermon in Latin. I smirked at the thought of his reaction to my aunt’s abandonment.

  “Did you ask her again if she’d given her money to Preacher Slaggard?” I asked.

  My mother groaned and then said, “She hasn’t signed over any real estate to him, but she’s given his church a lump sum to help build the ministry. Lavinia, what am I to do about this? Jo feels she has seen the light, but I think it’s just the sun’s glare in her eyes. Josephine isn’t always the brightest bulb in the box, you know. She’s been that way most of her life.”

  The stress in my mother’s voice had deepened. I pictured her slugging down a glass of wine followed by a chunk of her latest pastry creation. Reassuring her that I would look into Slaggard’s dealings, I hung up.

  A car stopped at the curb out front and a car door slammed. Within seconds, a knock sounded on the front door. Most everyone who knew me came to the side door of the house, unless it was business or a stranger, then the front door was used. I scrambled to see who was on the doorstep, but I couldn’t get a look. There was no peep-hole in the door and the person stood out of view of the side windows.

  Reluctant to open up, I asked, “Who is it?”

  “Tim Slaggard. The man Ms. Esposito rescued yesterday.”

  Swinging the heavy door open, I saw a much healthier Tim Slaggard on the step. We were eye to eye. His dark gaze took me in from head to toe and I gave him the same treatment.

  A bandage covered the stitches on his head. He had brown hair and his hawk-like features were sharp and prominent, though they softened when he smiled. Dark eyes fringed with thick lashes were tucked below neat eyebrows and tiny lines reached outward from the corners. On a woman they’re called crow’s feet. Men get away with it and are said to look sophisticated. Balderdash.

  “You must be Lavinia Esposito?” His voice held a rich timber and his teeth gleamed when he smiled.

  “I am.” I motioned for him to enter. “Come in, it’s quite drafty out there.”

  We sat in the living room and I watched as he settled comfortably on the sofa. I took one of the high-back chairs across from him, nearer to the fireplace.

  “You look a whole lot better today than you did yesterday, Mr. Slaggard. I hope you aren’t suffering any after-effects of your, uh, accident.” I watched him intently. His expression never faltered, and his eye contact was superb. This man knew how to work a crowd, there was no doubt in my mind.

  “It was a difficult day, and I’d like to thank you for coming to my aid, Ms. Esposito.”

  “You were fortunate that I was at the cemetery. Whatever were you doing out on the reservoir?”

  His face gave nothing away. I watched him with keen attention, hoping to find a chink in his façade.

  With an off-hand gesture, he said, “I was taking in the fresh air and communing with God. That location is perfect for it, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I never really thought of it that way.”

  “Why were you there?” he asked in a soft tone.

  “Visiting the dead, of which you were one, until I brought you back,” I responded bluntly.

  Watch yourself, he’s a smooth character, my inner voice warned.

  I stared down at my hands for a moment and tried to quiet my inner voice. Just shut the hell up, already.

  His features stiffened for a mere second, his eyes gleamed, but not with humor, with something else. What? I couldn’t tell.

  “You’re very forthright, Ms. Esposito. But then, your aunt did tell me you were. She’s a very sweet woman, isn’t she?”

  The hairs on the back of my neck buzzed to attention. What was he about? What was he inferring other than Aunt Jo was nice, which was true?

  Don’t play his game.

  Where is that shut-off button when you need it most?

  “Aunt Jo is a terrific person. She’s generous to a fault, as well. Where did you two meet?” I asked.

  “She attended a sermon with a lady friend of hers.” Tim tapped his lips in thought, and then added, “Mrs. Sarducci, that’s who it was. Josephine came in with Marion Sarducci. Do you know her?”

  With a slight shake of my head, I said, “Never had the pleasure. Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Slaggard?”

  “Tea would be perfect, if it’s not too much trouble,” he answered with a dip of his head.

  “Sure. I’ll be right back.” I raced to the kitchen, put a glass container of water in the microwave, hit the timer and set out a tray with a teapot along with cups and saucers. By the time the buzzer sounded, the tray was ready.

  “Here we are,” I said and set the tray on the coffee table in front of him. After I poured hot water into his cup, Slaggard dipped a teabag and waited for it to steep. I did the same and took my former seat.

  “Have you spoken with your aunt?” Slaggard wondered aloud.

  “Not today. I have a call in to her and will try to get together with her tomorrow afternoon sometime. Why do you ask?”

  “She’s part of our congregation building committee and has mentioned she’d like to invite you and your family to an informal gathering we have every now and then where we introduce ourselves to others.”

  “Would that be in hope that you’ll gather more members for your flock?”

  His laughter was genuine, as was his sense of humor. “One always hopes to increase followers of the Lord.”

  “What’s the date of this party? I’ll have to check my schedule and speak with my parents, and my grandmother, of course.”

  “Of course,” he said blithely. “The party is set for Thursday evening of next week.” Slaggard set his half empty cup on the tray and stood up.

  I did the same and accompanied him into the front hall. When I opened the door and stepped aside, he handed me a card and said, “Please, feel free to call me at any time whatsoever. I’d enjoy showing you around our church so you’ll be more comfortable with the idea of your aunt’s participation in our ministry.”

  I took the card, read it, and then tucked it into my pocket. “Thanks, I’ll be in touch.”

  “Again, thank you for coming to my rescue.”

  I gave him a nod and held the door while he stepped onto the front walk. Aware of his ability to turn attention away from himself and toward the church, I wondered if he was indeed as bad as some people thought he might be. An investigation into this man loomed on my horizon. I could feel it in my bones.

  A soft rustle of fabric accompanied by light footfalls from behind announced Monica was nearby. I glanced over my shoulder to see her freeze mid-step on the bottom stair. Her eyes, glued to Slaggard’s receding figure, held a misty appearance that sent alarm bells ringing in my head.

  “Hey, Monica, what’s up?” I asked with a touch of dread. It was then the thought occurred to me that I might be in for a weird experience while Monica resided upstairs. My life was already strange enough without adding more oddities to the mix.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “Tim Slaggard, do you know him?”

  “N-no, that’s why I asked. He has an interesting aura, don’t you think?”

  “If I knew what an aura was, I could probably tell you, but . . . ” I let the remark hang in the air, hoping that she’d drop the subject. Monica was freaking me out and instantly, I wished she’d moved in with Lola. Why she hadn’t invited Monica to stay at her place was a subject I’d be sure to discuss with Little Miss Dynamite.

  Her laughter was melodic and sweet, her smile contagious, and before I knew it, I’d invited her in for tea. Had Monica just cast a spell on me, or what? I shook my head, took a deep breath, and marched toward the kitchen for more hot water and another teacup.

  She’d taken the same seat Slaggard had vacated and was smoothing her long, crinkled skirt of diaphanous-like fabric that showed the leggings she wore beneath it. The woman knew how to dress in character, that was certain.

  “Are you settled in?” I asked as I poured hot water over tea leaves in the basket set into the top of the teapot. Setting the cover in place, I leaned back in the chair while the tea steeped. No teabags for Monica, definitely not. Lola had mentioned the woman only used loose tea, saying it offered more flavor and the leaves could be read afterward. God forbid this woman would read my leaves, nope, no thanks. I had enough going on without listening to predictions, even if they might be valid.

  Her gaze lit on me and she smiled. “Yes, Aaron has good taste and his apartment is quite nice.”

  I sipped the tea and couldn’t think what to say next. I know, it’s unusual for me to be speechless, but there you have it. I was out of my depth with her and her talent.

  “Am I making you uncomfortable, Vinnie?”

  I gave a small nod. “A tad . . . sorry.”

  “Don’t be, this happens quiet often. I’m not Madam Zelda, I’m just an ordinary woman who has a special gift. We all have gifts, Vinnie. Lola’s gift is cooking marvelous food and being a kind and generous person. Your gift is unraveling mysteries. Like I said, we’re all gifted in one way or another.” Monica leaned forward and poured more tea. “Tell me about Mr. Slaggard.”

  It didn’t take long, since I knew little about the man. I finished speaking and waited for her impressions.

  Monica tipped her head a bit and said, “He has a glow about him that implies he’s a man of good spirit on a journey that, undoubtedly, he’s dedicated to.”

  “You got that just from a, uh,” I searched for the word, then snapped my fingers and blurted, “an aura?”

  Her laughter bubbled over and she said, “Not really, I saw his glow, but I’ve heard of his dedication to his followers. Lola has told me he’s been to the deli and that Millie is quite taken with him.”

  “Apparently she’s not alone. My aunt has fallen off the Catholic religion wagon and climbed aboard his, much to my mother’s dismay.”

  “We all must follow our chosen paths, Vinnie, no matter who disapproves. Look at you. Your father isn’t happy about your associations with law enforcement, or your ability to find trouble where no one else can. I’m sure you don’t let that interfere with the path you’re on, and your aunt shouldn’t worry about her decisions either,” Monica noted with a lopsided, one-shoulder shrug.

  “You make a good point and I’ll be sure to pass that along to my mother. In the meantime, it’s important that I keep peace in the family and check out Tim Slaggard.”

  “He’s in danger, right?”

  “He is. His dip in the reservoir wasn’t an opportunity for him to commune with nature, as he said, but instead, someone gave him a solid thump on the head and sent him into the water to drown. He’s lucky, very lucky.”

  “So it would seem,” Monica agreed. She rose and seemed to drift, rather than walk across the room, and turned when she reached the door. “You’ll do well to take care of yourself and beware of the danger your act of kindness has produced. The person responsible for bashing Mr. Slaggard won’t like that you’ve interfered with his plan, Vinnie.”

  “He already doesn’t like it. I’m aware of the wrath I’ve brought down on my own head, Monica, but thanks for the warning. See you around,” I said, as she closed the door behind her.

  Chapter 7

  Another day dawned, dark clouds drifted across the gray sky. Traffic slowed at the Route 10 connector, just as it always did when I ran late for work. Once I made the swing onto the eastbound interstate highway, I stepped up my pace and swerved the car into the high-speed lane. Within minutes, I’d reached my exit and headed toward the university.

  The parking lot resembled a car dealership. I smiled and cruised through the ‘Instructor’s Only’ gate to find the lot packed to the hilt with no empty spaces left. Seconds later, I pulled into a student parking slot and noticed Dario, an undercover cop and friend, watching me.

  He walked alongside me when I reached him and remarked, “I hear you’re in the life-saving business, Vinnie.”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Small state, word gets around, you know how it is,” he answered with a raised brow.

  “True enough. Were you hanging around waiting for me, or someone else?” I stopped and asked.

  “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you must watch your back. We at the PPD can only protect you so far.”

  His voice remained soft, though underlying steel ran through it. I glanced over, smiled and patted his shoulder. “Thanks for the warning, I’ve gotten a few so far and I’m taking them seriously.”

  “Any problems?” Dario asked as he held the front door open for me.

  I gave him a sideways glance as I strode past him. “Why do you ask?”

  “Heard of an incident on South Main the other day and wondered if you were the person being shoved around.”

  “It was a brief encounter, a warning of sorts, and nothing I’m worried about, Dario. Thanks.”

  We arrived at my classroom. As I reached for the door handle, he put his hand on my arm. I faced him and waited.

  “Vin, you should be worried. Frankie Tomatoes is a man with no remorse, no pity, and no second thoughts. If he wants you dead, then so be it. Hear me?”

  Dark eyes gleaming, Dario’s demeanor showed he meant business and that his advice wasn’t to be taken lightly. Hells bells, here we go again.

  “Okay, okay, I hear you.” I sighed and whispered, “All I did was drag a drowning man to safety, for crying out loud.”

  “Yeah, well, that drowning man was meant to stay dead, Vin. Not be rescued by the likes of you, a person unable to mind her own business. Tell me you’re not investigating the situation?”

  I raised my hand, crossed my heart with two fingers and said, “Scout’s honor, I’m not looking into the drowning.” So I left out the part where I was looking into the drowned man, so what? I hadn’t lied, not specifically, anyway.

  “Glad to hear it.” Dario glanced through the narrow window and smirked. “The animals are getting restless. You’d better get in there.” With a smirk, he walked away.

  As things go, the day flew past with arguments in the classroom and out of it. I dismissed the students early and made my way to Conclavia, my gift shop in Providence. As I stepped from the car, I saw Marcus leave his.

  “Hey there,” I greeted him happily with a smile he didn’t return. Well, damn.