Rags to Witches Page 9

  It was hard to ignore a bullet in the forehead.

  I stood in a corner of the room, trying unsuccessfully to blend into the charcoal-colored drapes that framed the large windows. Beyond was an unobstructed view of the cemetery and the roped-off gravesite crime scene, where the police busily collected evidence.

  Strangely enough, the police remained outside. No one came inside to question us. I got the feeling that the police already had a short list of suspects, most of whom were probably already right here in this room. No one inside seemed to take notice of the activities outside, however. The mourners seemed, for the most part, unconcerned.

  I was still shaken that I had dropped the casket. It was embarrassing to be the weakest link amongst all the pallbearers, who were all at least forty years older than me. I vowed to restart my fitness routine as soon as I got home.

  But my slip-up had a plus side. If it hadn’t been for me, “Bones” Battilana would have remained suspect number one in Carla’s murder, sending the investigation off in the wrong direction. Now that he was off the suspect list, we could focus on other leads, instead of assuming that Danny Battilana was guilty and on the run. I felt like an unsung heroine of sorts, having “discovered” the body. Strangely, no one else seemed to share my sentiments.

  I felt terrible for Mom. It was one thing to discover a dead boyfriend, but to have him drop out of a coffin was something else entirely. Mom had handled herself exceptionally well with poise and dignity. At the moment she stood beside me, halfway through her second helping of tiramisu.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” I studied her closely.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” Mom dabbed her lips with a napkin. “Free trip to Vegas, great food, and an incredible penthouse to stay in. What more could I ask for?”

  “You know what I mean. Bones.”

  “What about him?” Mom’s brows furrowed together.

  “He was your...uh, friend, right? Aren’t you the least bit upset?”

  “What? I barely knew him, but I could never figure out what Pearl saw in him. She was in love with him.”

  Chapter 19

  Mom and I stood at one end of the bar, which gave us a clear vantage point of the room as well as the police work underway outside. Other than several uniformed police officers guarding the scene, nothing much seemed to be happening.

  I turned to Mom. “Just how many women was Bones dating? There’s Carla, Aunt Pearl, and you.” I counted on my fingers. “Am I missing anyone?”

  “No, Cen. Like I told you, I never dated Bones,” Mom said. “Couldn’t even stand the sight of him. But Pearl and Carla were both crazy for him. That probably ruined their friendship. Bones left Pearl for Carla, and then they wanted to kill each other. That guy’s not worth it, if you ask me.”

  My mouth dropped open. “But Aunt Pearl said—”

  Mom dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “You know how she is. Never a straight answer, and she constantly makes stuff up. She likes to stir up controversy.”

  Aunt Pearl had not only stayed silent on her romantic rivalry with Carla, but she had apparently lied to me about Mom’s relationship with Bones too. I believed Mom over Aunt Pearl, so I was relieved by her denial.

  But Mom’s claim presented a problem. It meant Aunt Pearl had motives to kill both Carla and Bones. I knew she didn’t have it in her, but no one else would believe that about my cantankerous, fibbing aunt.

  I could vouch for Aunt Pearl’s whereabouts during our RV trip, but not for any time earlier. The police couldn’t ignore the bullet in Bones’ forehead, which meant they would be searching for suspects. It was only a matter of time before they focussed their sights on romantic partners like Aunt Pearl.

  I turned back to Mom. “You’re absolutely sure you didn’t date Bones? Not even once?” I wanted to be absolutely sure of the facts.

  “Over my dead body! I can’t stand that man.”

  “Sssh. We don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.” A few people at the bar glanced in our direction, including Aunt Pearl, who was out of earshot at the opposite end of the bar. She was practically sitting on the lap of a seventyish man. He wore an expensive-looking tailored pink shirt under a black suit with matching pink pinstripes. Apparently, pinstripes were a timeless fashion classic in the mob world. “Who’s that man Aunt Pearl is talking to?”

  “That’s The Man.”

  “Huh?” She obviously hadn’t spent much time mourning Bones.

  “Manny ‘The Man’ La Manna,” Mom explained. “Pearl is infatuated with him. I think the feeling’s mutual.”

  I followed her stare to the opposite end of the bar, where the two had intertwined their arms, glasses raised in a toast. “Aunt Pearl has the hots for him too? Since when?”

  Mom shrugged. “About a couple of months ago. She’s just gone man crazy, Cen. I don’t really know what’s gotten into her lately. Maybe it’s from those weird kale smoothies she drinks.”

  “I’m going over to see what she’s up to.” I headed to the center of the bar and caught the attention of the bartender. I first wanted to refill my wine glass with Sauvignon Blanc. Heaven knows I needed fortification to pry the truth out of my aunt. I suspected Aunt Pearl, Mom, or both had lied to me about Bones, and I wasn’t letting up until I got to the bottom of it.

  Aunt Pearl materialized at my side seconds later. “Don’t screw this up with your meddling, Cen. Just mind your business and don’t ask questions.”

  “I thought that’s why you brought me here. To meddle.” I had plenty of questions that needed answers. In less than twenty-four hours we had been in an RV rollover, involved in a shootout, uncovered a dead man, and were now surrounded by a roomful of America’s Most Wanted. “If you won’t tell me the truth, maybe somebody else will. Your gentleman friend, for instance. Mr. La Manna.”

  “You leave Manny out of this.”

  “But I’m just dying to meet him. I’ve heard so much about him.”

  Aunt Pearl’s eyes widened in surprise. She glared across the room at Mom and made a hex sign.

  Mom just shrugged, though I swore that I saw a trace of a smile on her lips.

  “I’ll introduce you some other time. I’m in damage control mode right now, trying to keep him from going after Rocco and the Racatelli empire. These merger talks are killing me.”

  “Manny is a crime boss too?” Aunt Pearl’s peacekeeper role surprised me. Diplomacy was hardly her strong suit, and acting as the Henry Kissinger of the mob world seemed both highly dangerous and completely unnecessary. Aside from her complete lack of tact and persuasion, it was very unlikely that any sort of truce would last more than a few hours with these wise guys.

  Aunt Pearl nodded. “With both Carla and Bones out of the way, Manny’s wasting no time moving in for the kill. He wants Rocco out of the way. He’s willing to make a generous offer, but Rocco saying ‘no’ is not an option.”

  “I can’t believe you are on a first names basis with these people. You think Manny killed Carla and Bones? Maybe Rocco is next.” I sounded just like my aunt, which horrified me.

  “That’s why we’d better act fast.”

  “It doesn’t look like your shameless flirting is an act at all. You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

  “Oh, grow up, Cendrine. I’m doing this at great personal sacrifice. It’s what’s best for all of us.”

  I closed my hand around her arm. “No, Aunt Pearl. I think we need to mind our own business. Let’s go.”

  To my surprise, Aunt Pearl agreed. “Okay, fine. Let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter 20

  I scanned the funeral reception for Rocco. I wanted to say goodbye, but without anyone noticing. If Rocco was in danger, I didn’t want to be tagged by association.

  On second thought, the idea that I could fly under the radar was dumb. I had already attracted the attention of every breathing soul above ground with my attention-getting coffin drop. As a pallbearer, everyone would assume that I was close to Rocco and the R
acatelli family.

  Rocco caught my eye and crossed the room. “Recovered from your fall?”

  My face flushed. “I’m really sorry about that. It must have been the heat or something. I should probably go back to the hotel and get some rest.” I had the perfect excuse to leave. Aside from the Las Vegas heat, my wool suit and geriatric pallbearer partners hadn’t done me any favors.

  “Not your fault.” His intense blue eyes locked on mine.

  I nodded towards the bar. “Carla certainly had a lot of friends.” The guests seemed more celebratory than somber, but everyone mourned in their own way. Mobsters probably mourned more often than most, so it was understandable for them to act a little jaded.

  “Friends?” He chuckled. “More like frenemies—come here to celebrate Grandma’s death, and maybe move in on the business. It’s a high stakes, ruthless game. People will kill to cut in on the racket. Grandma’s killer is amongst us, no doubt.”

  “Maybe the police will re-open the investigation.”

  Rocco stared at me in confusion.

  “You know, with the casket incident and all. It seems very coincidental for both Carla and Bones to die so suddenly. Maybe someone wanted both of them dead.”

  Rocco sighed. “Probably at least half the people here. One or more of them knows what happened to Grandma in her swimming pool. She was afraid of water and never went anywhere near that pool. She always kept the pool drained. You’ve seen how small and shallow that thing is.”

  I frowned. “No.”

  “Of course you have, Cen. You’re staying in her suite.”

  “What? Oh yes, of course.” I flashed back to the pool, shocked. I was furious at Aunt Pearl for omitting such a major detail. I never dreamt that our suite was the actual site of Carla’s death, let alone a crime scene. “Maybe we should stay somewhere else.”

  “No need. The police finished their work at the suite and cleared the scene. It’s actually very secure there. In a way, it’s better. I feel secure knowing that you’re all safe there.”

  “We’re uh, in danger?”

  “No—not at all. But to be honest, your association with me poses some risk. I warned Pearl about this, but she insisted it wasn’t a problem.”

  Aunt Pearl had another problem, though. Me. I resented her lack of disclosure, and I intended to confront her about it.

  “But if the police think it’s an accidental drowning and it’s not, that means there’s a killer on the loose. Maybe Bones was taken out by the same person.”

  “Possible, but we’ll never know.”

  The police could rationalize a body in a pool, but one in a borrowed coffin with a bullet in the forehead was another story. “But the police can’t just dismiss—”

  “The police are bought and paid for.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “I know what you’re thinking. Bones Battilana was an obvious hit. The police will find a way to close that case too. Maybe they’ll blame it on another dead guy. Somebody wants a cut of our very lucrative business, and money talks.”

  “That seems a bit extreme.” The Racatelli family business was never talked about in Westwick Corners, mostly because we had the vague sense that it involved illegal activities and we didn’t want to get involved. Our small town operated on a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy for stuff like this. Still, Rocco’s direct reference to his family’s dealings in the crime world surprised me.

  Rocco gazed outside to the taped-off grave area. “The easiest thing for the police to do would be to compromise the crime scene. They’re probably doing that right now, to eliminate any possibility of the D.A. having enough evidence to charge anyone.”

  “A cover-up?” I wasn’t convinced that the police would purposely bungle the investigation. But maybe things operated differently in Las Vegas. “Bones had a bullet through his head. They have to at least investigate that.”

  Rocco nodded. “They will, but they’ll do a shoddy job. Or they’ll try to pin it on me.”

  “But what motive do you have to...” I had the answer before I finished my sentence. As Carla’s new husband, Bones stood directly in Rocco’s path to take over the Racatelli business. “Never mind.”

  “Why did Carla even have a pool if she was so deathly afraid of water?” I winced at my bad choice of words as soon as they left my mouth, but Rocco seemed oblivious.

  “The penthouse suite already had the pool when we bought the hotel. She insisted on living at the hotel. You can’t exactly take a pool out of a concrete high-rise. Filling it in would look ugly, so Grandma just kept it drained. Except, of course, on the very day she died. On that day the pool was full. That’s why I think it was a set-up.” Rocco paused and stared off into space. “At least it was me who found her.”

  “I’m really sorry, Rocco.”

  “The police can claim it was an accident, but I know better. It has to be a mob hit.”

  I had so many questions I didn’t even know where to start. For the moment I forgot that I wanted to leave. “Maybe it’s not too late to request an autopsy. Given the circumstances...” I glanced outside. Surely the discovery of Battilano warranted some further investigation, and the grave had yet to be covered over.

  He shrugged, his palms extended outward. “Even if they did it, they probably wouldn’t release the results. They keep stalling. I think I know why.”

  “We have to get an autopsy report, Rocco.” Despite my plan to mind my own business, I wanted justice too.

  Chapter 21

  Despite my best intentions, I stayed at the funeral reception. I stood in a corner of the room with Rocco. I couldn’t help myself. I felt myself drawn to him again. Maybe Aunt Pearl had renewed the spell. But it wasn’t just my physical attraction that drew me to Rocco. Now I truly felt sorry for him.

  Once the guests had paid their respects, things began to get a lot more interesting. Everyone was basically getting drunk at the bar.

  Aunt Pearl and Mom didn’t seem to mind. They both wavered unsteadily on their feet from too much wine.

  “See that guy over there?” Rocco pointed to Aunt Pearl’s boy-toy. He had left the bar and stood at the buffet table, loading his plate with a second helping of dessert. “That’s Manny ‘The Man’ La Manna. He’s trying to get rid of the competition and move in on our business.”

  La Manna wasn’t much of a mover, even in the buffet line. He was barely over five feet tall and not enough of a physical presence to intimidate anyone, let alone move in on anyone’s racket. But I supposed he probably got others to do his dirty work for him.

  “That’s him?” I nodded, not wanting to let on that I already knew who Manny was. I watched as he licked his fingers, then wiped his hands on his pinstriped suit. I failed to see what Aunt Pearl found so attractive about him. Aside from his dubious occupation, he had poor etiquette, something Aunt Pearl was, strangely, a stickler about. Her involvement with a crime capo freaked me out. “You think he was involved?”

  “No doubt.”

  “What’s with the all weird nicknames?”

  We both watched as Manny headed back over to the bar with a heaping plateful of tiramisu.

  “Everyone has a nickname. It’s for protection, in case of eavesdroppers or police surveillance.”

  That pretty much confirmed their criminal activities, which, since this was Vegas, probably involved something like match-fixing, illegal gambling, or money laundering. It seemed insensitive to press Rocco for details at the moment, so I asked about Manny La Manna’s business instead. They had to be in the same line of work, given Manny’s hostile takeover plans. “What’s his racket?

  “Loan sharking, extortion, money laundering, you name it. Pretty much everything that goes on here behind the scenes.”

  I refocused on Manny, who had stood by the bar. He attacked his tiramisu with such relish that I almost expected him to lick the plate.

  The man standing next to Manny suddenly caught my attention.

  "I know that man." I pointed at Christophe, who st
ood at Manny’s elbow. "I’m surprised to see our butler at the funeral. But I suppose that makes sense. After all, he was Carla’s butler.”

  "Butler?" Rocco frowned. “Grandma never had a butler.”

  "He’s included with the suite. At least that’s what he told us.”

  Rocco gave me a blank stare. "Crisco has no business being in the suite. He sure as hell ain’t no butler.”

  “Crisco? What kind of name is that?”

  “You don’t want to know. Crisco works for Manny. He does all the stuff no one else will touch.” Rocco scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe this isn’t so bad. If he’s in the suite, then you can keep tabs on him.”

  Manny seemed to have his tentacles everywhere, and that apparently even extended to my own family. I shivered, though the crowded room was warm.

  My pulse quickened. Whatever reason Christophe had for being in our suite had nothing to do with canapes or cocktails. He wanted something from us. “No. We have to get out of there. I’ve got to warn Mom and Aunt Pearl.”

  Rocco’s hand clamped over my arm. “You can’t do that. You’ll tip him off. Besides, he’s not after you. He’s after me. He thinks I’ll come back to the suite.”

  “But what if he—”

  “He could care less about you and your family, Cen. No offense, but he’s probably setting a trap for me. Just give me some time before you do anything. You’ve got to stay there. Otherwise, he’ll get suspicious. Keep an eye on him until I figure out a plan. I can’t let him get to me.”

  “That makes no sense. He’s right here at the funeral. He can get to you right now if he wanted to.”

  Rocco steered me out into the hallway. “No one’s gonna take me out in plain sight at a funeral. Too many witnesses. Besides, it’s a funeral. There are some lines even wise guys won’t cross.”