An excerpt from the next Vinnie Esposito novel
Dead Wrong - from Lachesis Publishing
Funerals were a source of mystery and entertainment in families such as mine. At least they were for me anyway. This thought crossed my mind as the crowd gathered in the foyer of Nardolillo’s Funeral Home. First our family, then several FBI agents along with local cops all shuffled past the casket. A line of mobsters followed them. Family friends shuffled past the dead man last.
It was easy to tell who was what. Mafia wise guys wore lots of bling. Heavy gold rings with diamond chunks laced pinky fingers while thick gold necklaces, capable of sinking a cruise ship, adorned their necks. Dressed in Armani suits that cost a small fortune, handmade leather shoes and silk neckties that finished off their attire, these men were easy to spot.
FBI agents wore cheap suits bought off the rack, had well trimmed haircuts and pious attitudes. The only exception to that would be my friend and tenant, Aaron Grant. An undercover FBI agent, Aaron always dressed like he modeled for GQ Magazine.
The local Rhode Island cops, a more relaxed crew than the FBI, wore casual clothing or uniforms. These guys couldn’t afford Armani and wouldn’t wear FBI attire if it killed them. I’m aware of this since I work with cops all the time.
The immediate family had gathered early for private viewing and a prayer service. I was spared that event, I’m happy to say. My great uncle, Nate, was laid out in a pinstriped suit, his features as dashing as ever even in death. Stiff and cold, his handsome face remained the same.
The rest of the family, cousins, aunts, uncles, my parents, grandmother and I, filled the first several rows of chairs lined up before the casket. Everyone had kneeled in front of the dead body to whisper a Hail Mary or maybe to curse the charming scoundrel. Everyone except the FBI guys, that is.
Nate Esposito, the family bad boy from my Dad’s side. A family member nobody acknowledged knowing when put to the test. His dirty deeds had led him an unpredictable and sordid life that left most of us embarrassed.
Anyhow, I viewed the whole scene with a straight face, though my offbeat sense of humor caused me an internal chuckle at the varied parade. Great uncle Nate would have loved every minute of this, I thought.
My gaze took in the heavy brocade draperies and thick piled carpets. Soft music played in the background, and the nauseating smell of funeral flowers clogged my nostrils. This place had earned hundreds of thousands of dollars from my family over the years and rightly so.
It was expected that when a family member passed on, no matter how, Nardolillo’s was the place for viewing and all that entailed. Traditionally, my relatives used this funeral home.
My mother, Theresa Esposito, sat on one side of my father, Gino Esposito, while my grandmother and I sat on the other side. Mom leaned forward and pitched her head a bit, motioning that I should follow her into the foyer. Yikes, now what? I nodded and whispered to my father that we would return in a moment. He stared at me but didn’t utter a sound.
In the corridor, my mother grasped my arm. She glanced in both directions and dragged me toward the furthest sofa. Other than the few people heading into the opposite viewing room, the corridor lay empty.
“Did you see that crowd? What do you think the cops want?” she asked in a whisper.
My mom, peacemaker and mother extraordinaire, had figured out there was more to the viewers than grief. This was big. Mom tended toward innocence.
“Apparently some of these people want to make sure he’s dead, Mom. I think the FBI is here to verify that, but also to keep an eye on who attends this affair. The cops, well, they’re probably friends, ya know? As for the mob, who knows what they’re about?”
My mother nodded. She squeezed my hand and glanced down the hallway. I turned, my eyes followed her gaze. Aaron Grant headed toward us. He smiled, his white teeth flashing bright against his tan. The man was golden brown all year through. How he managed that I couldn’t imagine. It was a tan most women dreamed of.
I smiled back as did my mother. Yeah, she thought Aaron was a real catch, but then she thought Marcus was, too. The only problem being, the family had no idea Aaron was undercover FBI. If they had, he wouldn’t be welcome in the bosom of our Italian tribe. Marcus Richmond, a Rhode Island State Trooper, walked a thin line with my father, but it was doubtful that he cared. His state police status gave him a certain amount of ego and swagger. He wasn’t easily put off. I liked him for it.
“I wondered if you knew anything about Nate’s latest business deals, Lavinia,” Mom said under her breath as Aaron approached. Unwilling to speak of our dirty laundry in front of a non-family member, my mother’s words rushed from her mouth.
“What business deals?” I asked, wide-eyed.
“I’m not sure, but I thought your police friends might have mentioned Nate’s activities to you. If he’d behaved, he wouldn’t be here now.”
“I thought he croaked from a heart attack. How did the old miscreant kick the bucket?”
“He, um, well, he was found in a very compromising situation with a lady friend. His wife is beside herself over it. He and the woman were, ah, well, um, doing the, uh, you know, and he kind of died from over exertion.”
“Get out, really?” I guffawed and clapped a hand over my mouth in haste.
“Lavinia, really. It’s not funny. Lena is quite mortified.”
I nodded, though a smile lingered when I turned to greet Aaron.
The WWF-sized handsome man leaned forward to kiss my mother on the cheek. Then he kissed me on the lips. I smiled while my mother blushed. Good grief.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Esposito. Is Mr. Esposito inside?” Aaron murmured.
Charm dripped off the man. I stared at him through narrowed eyes, when I suddenly realized he was here on business instead of sympathy. Like his FBI cronies, Aaron was undoubtedly here to see if Uncle Nate had kicked the bucket in earnest. I rose and nodded my head in answer to his question.
“Yeah, he’s in there with the FBI, cops and the mob, who have all paid their respects to the old geezer.”
Her voice a tad snappy, my mother said my name and glared at me.
Aaron held his grin in check and turned to escort us into the viewing room. “Vinnie, I’m sure you didn’t mean to offend your mother that way.”
Lavinia Esposito is my given name, in honor of my Aunt Lavinia Ciano. My twin brother, Giovanni, had nicknamed me Vinnie when we were kids, and it had stuck.
The aunt of all aunts, Lavinia had been my friend and confidante during my lifetime. She’d backed me up in tight spots with my family. When Livvy died, she’d left her colonial apartment house in the country and a small gift shop in Providence to me.
As a criminal justice instructor at a local university, I deal with cops, security personnel or two-point-fives as they are called in the business, and wannabe’s every day of the school year. I had Livvy to thank for that. Life was never dull or mundane, and I enjoyed every moment of it. Well, most of the time.
My mother walked on one side of Aaron and I walked on the other as we slowly walked into the room. My gaze roamed the cops and agents lined against the rear wall, all of whom whispered to one another. They glanced in our direction and then away, no recognition on their faces. Ah, that good old cop training.
A woman stepped behind us as we approached the casket. My mother left me with Aaron and returned to sit with my father and Nonni, my grandmother. Aaron glanced down at me as I knelt on the small bar in front of the casket. It tickled my sense of humor to know that Aaron would have to follow suit. He’d kneel to this criminal and pretend to pray. With a smirk, I glanced over as he took his place beside me.
His large frame nudged me sideways as he moved closer. My knees teetered on the edge of the short bar. Aaron turned a look of surprise toward me as I peered past him at the round bodacious woman with thin, flaming red hair who settled next to us.
Her pink scalp showed through the teased hairdo. Globs of make-up plastered her face. Lips defined outside their rims sparkled with glittery red lipstick. Good God, Halloween had come and gone.
The kneel bar bent in the middle. Shit. We’d be on the floor in a second, if this kept up. I leaned way forward for a better view of who’d joined us when a loud whoop issued from my left. I stared at Aaron for a second before scrambling to my feet.
My great-aunt Lena scurried forward, her handbag swinging wide. Her wrinkled features contorted in rage. She hurled the handbag like a shot-put.
“You tramp,” Lena screamed. A mad dog snarl curled her lip. “You killed my Nate, you dirty rotten tramp.”
The handbag found its mark as the broad-chested woman rose from the casket bench to stare at the oncoming maniac. The bag whacked the redhead upside her head, sending the woman to the floor on her knees. On spindly legs, Aunt Lena scurried forward. Loose high-heeled shoes flopped on her tiny feet. The black knit dress stretched across Lena’s plump body, her stiff blue hair bouncing with each step.
Everyone waited, enthralled as the scene unfolded before them. I glanced at my father and watched him shake his head, his lips compressed. I could tell he wasn’t about to become embroiled in this drama. Smart man. My mother stared in horror. Nonni jeered at the strange woman, the same woman who’d managed to send my great uncle into the wide blue yonder with a smile on his lips.
The cops and agents in the back of the room lolled against the wall, waiting and watching. My family members passed the buck from one person to another, not knowing what to do or how to handle their demented mother. Determined to stop the scene, I made the mistake of stepping in front of Lena.
“Auntie, please get a hold of yourself.” I pled with the overwrought woman.
Short in stature, Lena moved like an out of control steamroller. Across the room she rolled, brushing me aside like an ant. I caught her arm swinging her to meet my gaze. Wrong move.
Her hand came up as she rounded on me. I leaned aside and then grasped Lena by the waist. She struggled as I half lifted her fluffy body off the floor.
“Is someone going to help me here?” I yelled.
Cheers, accompanied by applause, rose from the back of the room. My hands full of bulging flesh, I whirled Lena around and set her down to face the family.
Aaron grasped my arm. He dragged me aside as the red-haired woman from the floor sped past. The offending handbag clutched tight in her long clawed hand, she thwacked Lena with it. The crowd roared and Nonni yelled words like, “Punch-a da tramp-a, punch-a her”. Nonni’s heavy Italian accent laden with excitement.
For a second I thought I was at a Providence Bruins hockey game. I usually yell similar stuff when a fight breaks out on the rink. Smiling cops moved forward through the crowded room as Aaron grasped my arm. He drew me close when the family swarmed forward to help Lena, effectively blocking the cops.
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Faerie Cake Dead
The only thing divorcee Luna Devere wants is to live with the faeries in peace while she operates her tea and cup cake shop on the coast of Maine. After experiencing a tumultuous marriage, Luna fears romantic attachments, until Devin Radford arrives on the scene. When the corpse of an elderly gentleman shows up at Luna's shop, her life instantly becomes chaotic and Luna finds she must turn to Devin for help.
Filled with a wonderful menagerie of characters ranging from two matronly employees, one a gossip and the other a stalwart no-nonsense sort of woman; a portly and skeptical sheriff, an exhusband who thinks he's the greatest man on earth, a hero with a sense of humor, and sweet faeries, this story is sure to catch your interest.
FOR LOVE OF LIVVY
After her favorite aunt if found dead, a suspicious box of precious stones turns up on the doorstep and the cops refuse to share their theories, criminal justice instructor Lavinia Esposito, a.k.a. Vinnie, takes investigation matters into her own hands.
Soon involved in situations beyond her control, Vinnie finds herself in hot water with the law, the crooks and her Italian father. Willing to take chances to find out what happened to Aunt Livvy and why the gems were addressed to her aunt, Vinnie plunges ahead. It will require tenacity, bravery and keen wits to solve and survive this mystery.
Dirty Trouble
Someone is stalking Vinnie. But that's just the start of her problems. After barely escaping serious injury in a car accident, Vinnie runs into a former adversary she suspects is now stalking her. On top of that, her 60-year-old aunt has been arrested along with her mobster pal. Vinnie suddenly finds herself over her head in trouble - dirty trouble. RI State Trooper Marcus Richmond and FBI agent Aaron Grant have their hands full trying to save Vinnie from everyone including herself.
Available now through:
http://www.fictionwise.com/ebooks/b97362/For-Love-of-Livvy/J-M-Griffin/?si=0
www.lachesis.com
www.lyricalpress.com
Amazon.com
Also available in ebook form from Lachesis Publishing
**Reviews Welcome.
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Available now at book stores and from www.Amazon.com or www.barnesandnoble.com
Vinnie's first inkling of trouble occurs when her car is forced off the road into a deadly construction site. Not only is she involved in a car crash, but Vinnie finds a past enemy has begun to stalk her at every turn. Rhode Island State Trooper Marcus Richmond and Vinnie's tenant, undercover FBI Agent Aaron Grant, soon realize there is more at play than meets the eye after Vinnie has a run in with the mob. Together, the two law enforcement agents strive to save Vinnie from the stalker and the mob as the trouble turns dirty and things heat up.
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