May narrowed her eyes until Ginger continued, “Mom’s been having some problems with the change.” She turned red as she caught Vince’s eye.

Gillian claimed a stool next to the wall near the telephone. This left Ginger to drag a chair in from the dining room.

Gillian eyed the food spread across the tabletop. “I see you all have been making yourselves at home.” She turned to Skye. “Next thing we know you’ll be clearing out the closets. I hope you realize this is not a case of first come, first served. My mom has just as much claim on Grandma’s property as yours does.”

Skye had been silent, mulling over the inconsistencies leading to her grandmother’s death, but Ginger’s comment penetrated her fog. “Ginger, let me ask you a question. When the Lion King was killed trying to save his son, did you find that a sad moment . . . at all?”

Vince let out a bark of laughter, but bit it off before it could grow. Jed’s lip curled slightly. May shot Skye a mother-look that silenced her, at least temporarily.

Expressions of confusion were replaced with those of rage as Ginger and Gillian began to understand what Skye had said.

Gillian spoke up. “That was entirely uncalled for. How could you be so cruel? After all, we’re still reeling from Grandma’s passing.” A sob broke her voice. “Unlike your family, we just found out about it a little while ago.” She paused for breath. “Speaking of that, why did it take you so long to let us know?”

May got up and started to put the food away. “We were trying to reach the aunts and uncles, so they could tell their own children.”

“But, of course, Vince and Skye were an exception,” Gillian said flatly, her tears miraculously disappearing.

“Look, it’s hardly a privilege to be the one who finds poor Grandma dead. And if you can’t see why I would contact my family before yours, then I don’t have any way of explaining it.” Skye got up to help her mother clear the table.

“You always have an answer, don’t you? But the true story is you’ve always been jealous of Ginger and me. We’re prettier, we were co-prom queens, and we’re married. You just can’t stand that.” Gillian crossed her arms and sneered at Skye.

“Why, you little—”

“Skye!” May said sharply.

Sitting back, Gillian smiled nastily. “I know when I’ve said enough.”

“Obviously not,” Skye muttered. She shouldn’t have said that. Why did she let the twins push her buttons? Maybe she was a little jealous, which was silly. They weren’t six years old anymore and they hadn’t just been given a better doll than she had for Christmas.

Gillian opened her mouth, but Vince was quicker. “Uncle Emmett, when do you expect Aunt Minnie home?”

Emmett scratched his head. “She was supposed to have some more tests in the morning, then drive home. Planned on being back by supper time.”

“Did you leave her a message at the motel?” May asked from the sink.

“Told her to call here, no matter what time she got back.”

May shut off the faucet and stuck the first glass in the soapy water. “I had Vince put a note on Mona and Neal’s door, saying pretty much the same thing. Hugo’s going to bring his folks over here soon as they get home. Guess we’re stuck here for a while. Let’s try not to fight anymore.”

No one had said anything for the last fifteen minutes. Both Jed and Emmett were dozing in their chairs, but the noise of the back door slamming woke them.

Dante Leofanti rushed up the steps, trailed by his wife, Olive, and son, Hugo. Skye watched her uncle push his way into the center of attention. He was less than five-six with all his weight in his chest and stomach. When she was a little girl, she’d loved to listen to his stories. But as she grew older, she and her uncle had grown apart. It was sad that now they seemed to have nothing in common, couldn’t sustain a conversation past the topics of health and weather.

He reached for May and enveloped her in a hug. “You poor thing. Having to handle this all by yourself.”

Skye glanced at the room full of people and wondered, What are we, weeds in his cornfield?

He smoothed back his thick gray hair and spotted Skye. “You poor angel. How sad to be the one to find your grandma like that. Too bad it couldn’t have been one of the boys. You know Hugo stopped by almost every day.”

Skye stifled a grimace. Uncle Dante was already rewriting history. Hugo only visited his grandmother on holidays and birthdays, and then for such short periods of time he rarely sat down. But she didn’t say anything. Maybe this was the only way Dante could handle his grief.

Hugo had been fortunate. He carried his forty years well, and had gotten the better physical traits of both his parents. His mother’s side allowed him to be of average height, five-ten, and his father had provided thick black hair. He had the Leofanti green eyes but something was missing in his. Maybe it was openness. He was good at keeping his thoughts to himself, an advantage in his job as a car salesman.

After getting chairs for his mother and father, he stood behind Olive with his hands on her shoulders. It was hard to tell whether the gesture was one of comfort or control.

Olive always seemed uneasy among the Leofantis. She was from Chicago, and although she and Dante had been married for thirty-nine years, she still acted like someone who was just visiting from the city.

Skye noticed that she was pleating the hem of her pink floral dress. She seemed to feel Skye’s glance and reached up to pat her short blond hair, though every strand was already in place.

Skye smiled at Olive. “Pretty dress.”

Olive seemed flustered. “Thanks. I’ve had it for years.”

“Hugo told us what happened, but I’m confused about a few things.” Dante looked from May to Skye.

“Oh?” May had been handling her brother’s chauvinistic manner for years.

When it was clear May wasn’t going to go on, Dante elaborated. “Why did Skye call the coroner?”

Skye couldn’t tell which of her cousins, either Ginger or Gillian, whispered, “She probably just wanted an excuse to call her boyfriend. I hear he hasn’t been coming around lately.”

Tamping down her irritation, Skye faced her uncle. “Who would you suggest I should have called instead?”

“Your mother, your aunts, me.” Dante’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Crossing her arms, Skye leaned back. “I didn’t want to tell Mom over the phone that her mother was dead.”

“How about me or your aunts?” Dante leaned his chair back on two legs.

Skye considered her answer briefly. The truth was she didn’t want to deal with her aunts and uncle, but she couldn’t say that so she resorted to the near truth. “I didn’t think about it.”

Dante thumped his chair onto the floor. “Well, young lady, I don’t believe that for a minute. What’s the real reason?”

May gripped Skye’s arm and Vince shook his head wildly. Skye smiled. “Uncle Dante, you really, really don’t want to go down that road. Let’s just say the family and I usually think in opposite ways.”

“Fine, we’ll let that go for now. But I still don’t understand what’s going on. Where is Mom right now?” Dante looked around as if he thought they had hidden the corpse in one of the cupboards.

Skye answered. “Because she died alone and without any documented health problems, they have to treat it as a suspicious death. They’re waiting for Doc Zello to rule on the cause.”

“Well, why haven’t we heard anything yet?” Dante asked.

“I talked to Simon a little bit ago. He said he’d come out as soon as Doc Zello makes a determination,” Skye answered, trying hard to keep her voice even and not reveal the true contents of her conversation with Simon. “And I believe there was a wake tonight from seven to nine.” Before anyone could ask who, she added, “I think it was for old Mrs. Doratto.”

Gillian piped up, “Well, I hope Simon doesn’t think we’re going to use the Reid Funeral Home for Grandma’s funeral just because he already has the body.”

Вы читаете Murder of a Sweet Old Lady
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату