Limoncello Yellow (Franki Amato Mysteries) (41 page)

Concetta spun around to face Veronica.
"Oh, don't act so innocent! You've been aiding a murderer! Last time I checked, honey, that qualified as a sin."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move in the kitchen doorway. I turned my head and—to my complete astonishment—there stood Glenda. Although her thin, lined face was red with rage, and she was wearing an S&M outfit replete with a silver boa, she looked nothing short of a saving angel. In her hand, she was holding the tallest stripper shoe I
'd ever seen.

I watched in horror as, oblivious to Gl
enda, Concetta quickly wrapped the scarf around Veronica's neck, and my friend began thrashing in her chair.

With the silent stealth of a ninja, Glenda snuck up behind Concetta and clubbed her in the back of the head with the shoe. There was a dull thud, and Concetta collapsed to the floor in a pool of black fabric, just like the Wicked Witch of the West.

"Glenda?" Veronica croaked out with a wide-eyed stare, no doubt from the momentary lack of oxygen. "Is it really you?"

Despite the fact that she
'd just single-handedly knocked out a homicidal maniac with the shoe in her right hand, Glenda nevertheless held her signature cigarette holder in her left. "In the flesh, sugar."

Judging from the
S&M outfit she was wearing, I assumed she meant that literally.

Glenda
slipped the shoe back on her foot and turned to me. "I called the cops right before I let myself in. You girls all right?"

"
I think so," I replied. "Thank goodness you're here!"

"
You can say that again, Miss Franki. Now you two give me a minute while I take care of some rather unpleasant landlady business."

I watched in a mixture of awe and amazement as Glenda made quick work of Concetta. Glenda put her cigarette holder in her mouth and removed her black leather garter belt, which was attached to partial black leather pant legs. First she detached the pant legs, and then she used the belt to tie Concetta
's hands behind her back. Next, she used the garter straps to bind her feet to her hands. When she was done, Concetta looked like she was doing the yoga bow pose.

Glenda stood up, adjusted her short, zippered black leather vest
, and took a long drag from her cigarette. Then she put her cigarette holder on the counter and picked up the butcher knife. She walked over to Veronica and began cutting the ropes binding her hands.

"
How did you know we were in trouble?" I asked, still stunned.

"
Well, I was entertaining Guido," she began, "and he happened to glance out the window and see a nun pass by. Naturally, I got suspicious."

"
Makes sense to me." And somehow, it did. I had the feeling that there wasn't a big parade of nuns in and out of Glenda's place.

Glenda nodded.
"I would have come to check on you two sooner, but Guido was all in a panic. He started crossing himself and saying Hail Marys and Our Fathers like he was possessed."

I stared at her, speechless, as usual.

Veronica rubbed her wrists as Glenda freed her feet.

When Glenda was done with Veronica, she walked over to the counter and took another drag off her cigarette.
"And then Guido started going on and on about how what we were doing was a sin," she continued with an angrily exhaled puff of smoke. "So, of course I had to kick him out." As she walked over to begin cutting my binding, Glenda gave Veronica and me a knowing look. "I don't think I need to tell either of you ladies that a man who doesn't sin just isn't sexy."

"
Of course not," Veronica said.

"
Around that time I heard a scream," Glenda continued, "and that's when I knew that nosy nun was up to no good. So I came downstairs and found Napoleon outside—"

"
Is he all right?" I interrupted.

"
He's just fine, sugar," she soothed as she freed my hands. "He's in the pleasure palace."

I had no idea what she meant by that, but I sincerely hoped she was ta
lking about her apartment. "Oh, good."

As Glenda knelt down to cut the rope from my ankles, I looked at Concetta and saw that she had begun to move her head from side to side.

"She's coming to!" I exclaimed.

Concetta raised her head and swore.
"What the—?" Then she began rocking back and forth on her belly trying to break free. "Who did this to me?" she screamed, her right eye twitching.

Glenda sighed and put down the knife after cutting the last of the rope around my ankles. Then her eyes narrowed to the size of two slits and, in a move that undoubtedly came straight from one of her stripteases, she crawled over to Concetta on all fours and leaned the front half of her body down so she could look her in the eye.
"I did. Now, you keep your trap shut, sister, until the cops come and haul your unholy heinie away, or I'll be forced to club you again with my shoe. And while you're lying there all nice and quiet, you'd best start praying that you didn't scratch my Ginsu knife."

Then she sat up, removed the boa from around her neck
, and stuffed one end into Concetta's mouth.

Concetta cast Glenda a wide-eyed look and then went limp.

Knowing how much Glenda prided herself on her costumes, I said, "Glenda, you and your S&M outfit saved our lives."

Glenda fluttered her false eyelashes and drew her hand to her chest.
"Miss Franki, this is my biker stripper costume! I don't dress S&M. That's just not ladylike."

I turned my head as I heard the familiar wail of police sirens in the distance.

"Well it's about damn time the cops got here," Glenda said, rising to her feet. "I've got a reputation to protect, and I sure as hell don't want people to think I'm running a home for wayward nuns."

* * *

I took a sip of my double soy latte and leaned back in my desk chair, relishing the early morning silence of the empty office. I hadn't slept a wink after the events of the previous night. All I could think about was my family and how they were going to react to the news that I'd solved my first murder case. I half expected my parents to insist that I come home and fulfill my pre-ordained destiny to work in the deli. Of course, my
nonna
was going to tell me that I needed to use my newly honed investigative skills to get serious about finding a husband. I wondered what she would say if she knew that I'd actually found myself a husband—just one that belonged to someone else.

The lobby bell sounded.

I
stood up and peered out my doorway. Veronica was walking up the hallway.

"
Good morning," I said, although it sounded strange after everything that had happened.

"
How do you feel today?" Veronica asked as I followed her into her office.

I took a seat in front of her desk and noticed that she looked as tired as I did.
"Other than rope burn on my wrists, I'm fine. How about you?"

"
Same," she said. "It kind of seems like it was all just a crazy, bad dream."

"
I wish it were."

She toyed with a pen on her desk
. "You know, I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to resign after almost getting killed."

I looked her straight in the eyes
. "I'm not going anywhere. I knew that being a PI could be every bit as dangerous as being a cop. Besides, I've learned more after two weeks of working for you than I did the whole time I was on the force, and I've figured out something really important about myself too."

"
Oh?"

I shifted in my seat.
"This may sound kind of weird, but it has to do with what Concetta said when the police were taking her away."

"
You mean, when she kept screaming, 'What did I do to deserve losing my twin?'"

"
Exactly. Last night I was thinking about how she was looking at Immacolata's death from the wrong perspective. She thought that she'd done something to bring about Immacolata's death, when it's so obvious that it had absolutely nothing to do with her. I mean, she's not responsible for Stewart Preston's actions."

Veronica raised her brow. "And so?"

"
It just got me thinking about myself and how I've been taking it for granted that the way men have treated me was my fault."

Veronica stared at me, her face expressionless.
"I'm not following."

I sat up in my chair.
"The cheating. I've been driving myself crazy trying to figure what it is about me that leads guys to cheat on me. But, like Concetta, I had it all wrong. It's not about me. It's about them and their own weaknesses. And you know something else?"

"
What?"

"
I'm not going to assume the responsibility for other people's bad decisions anymore."

Veronica leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms, and
smiled. "I'm so lucky to have you working for me."

"
Why do you say that?"

"
Because you're one smart cookie. And you're resilient too."

I laughed
, but inside I was basking in the praise. "Just the same, after last night I'm hoping we get nothing but a steady stream of insurance fraud and cheating spouse cases. That reminds me, did we ever hear back from Twyla Upton?"

"
Nope, not a word. But I did talk to Ryan Hunter. He was very grateful, and he apologized when he heard that we were almost killed."

"
Well, that's nice of him and everything, but I'm glad to be done with that guy and with the whole Evans case."

"
I know," she said softly. "I just feel so bad for the Di Salvo family, especially Maria."

I nodded.
"Me too. Can you even imagine what she's going through? First Imma, then her husband, and now Concetta, the one who was supposed to be so good."

"
It's just awful."

"
Yeah, and all she has left now is Domenica. And you can bet that one is going to give her more trouble."

"
I really hope not," Veronica said.

The front office door slammed shut.

"David's here!" I grinned.

He
rushed into the room. "Are you guys—uh, ladies—okay?"

"
Yeah." I smiled. "I guess you heard what happened?"

"
Did I?" he asked. "Private Chicks, Inc. is all over the morning news!"

"
Really?" Veronica asked, her face lighting up. "Franki, turn on the TV."

I stood up and switched on a small television set on top of Veronica
's file cabinet. The first thing I saw was Glenda sidled up way too close to a local news reporter.

"
What in the world is Glenda doing?" Veronica exclaimed.

"
A lot of interviews," David replied. "I can't believe you didn't know. Everyone's talking about how a gutsy stripper saved two PIs from an evil nun."

"
Oh no." Veronica groaned and put her face in her hands. "Turn the sound down. I don't want to hear it."

"
Come on, it's not as bad as all that," I soothed as I turned down the volume. "You know the old saying, 'There's no such thing as bad publicity.' Plus," I said, glancing at the TV, "at least Glenda's dressed somewhat chastely for her interviews." And she was, that is, if you count the fact that the TV station had blurred out her royal blue velvet Prince pants—the ones with holes that fully expose the butt cheeks. There was also the little matter of a three-inch rhinestone choker around her neck that said, "VIXEN."

"
Franki, is that your phone?" David asked.

I was so absorbed in the details of Glenda
's outfit that I hadn't heard it ringing. "Oh, yeah, thanks." I walked into the hallway to take the call.

"
Hello?"

"
Francesca?" my mother asked in what was an unusually shrill voice, even for her. "This is your mother, dear."

"
Yeah, hi, Mom." I felt the tension already rising in my chest.

"
Your
nonna
just called your father and me at the deli and said that last night you and a stripper had a nun arrested. Is that true, dear? I know you haven't been entirely comfortable with your Catholicism, honey, but this is taking things too far!"

"
Mom, that nun almost strangled Veronica and me," I explained. "She was the one who murdered Jessica Evans."

"
What?" she exclaimed. "Well, almost getting killed by a nun is big news, Francesca. Why didn't you call us?"

"
Mom, I really wasn't in the mood to chat after it happened. And I had no idea it would be on the news, especially in Texas. I was going to call you guys tonight to tell you all about it. But how come
nonna
called you and didn't call me?"