chance that you were still wearing it today.”
He pulled out another leather pouch, and dug his pipe inside, packing it with tobacco.
“But what made you think it was Dickey’s ring? It could have been anything.”
“Not likely. A woman likes to display her jewelry, not hide it under her dress.”
This was getting weird. My neck was beginning to tighten, and my gut was telling me something wasn’t right here, but I pushed my apprehensions aside and kept on talking.
I decided to play him a bit. “That ring has some kind of history that I can’t figure out yet. My mom told me grandpa Spia gave it to my dad. Do you remember that?”
He shrugged. “Not really . . . ya know, now that you mention it, I do remember something about a ring going missing. He was pretty upset about it. Do you think Jimmy took it?”
I nodded, but for some reason my theory wasn’t feeling right. Wasn’t holding up. Something was clearly wrong.
He smiled while he patted his tobacco down in his pipe.
“That’s a pretty big theory. One that can get Jimmy put away for life, or were you thinking of not turning him over to the cops, and sending him off to Italy instead? Like some of our other relatives that couldn’t go clean.”
I shook my head. “You must be kidding. The guy is a cold blooded killer. He needs to be behind bars, and soon. Problem is I don’t have any evidence against him other than theory. I can’t seem to find that one thing that he screwed up on. So what we need is a confession. I’ve got my phone in my pocket. It records. Maybe if we work together we can get him to brag about what he’s done. I figure at some point, I’ll pull out the ring and bait him with it. You think Jimmy will go for it?”
“Go for what?” Jimmy appeared in the open doorway. “Did somebody mention my name?”
I instantly stood. “Yes. No. What I mean is. . .”
“. . . we were just talking about you,” Federico said.
“Hope it was good.”
“Nothing but,” I squeaked out.
Jimmy gave me a quizzical look. “What’s wrong with you? You’re as jumpy as a rabbit. And what are you doing here, anyway? You haven’t stepped foot in my bar since you stopped drinking.” He stared at me for a moment. “Oh, I get it now. You’re drinking again, ain’t ya? And you came here to get away from the rest of the family, right?” He walked in closer. “Well, little cuz, whatever happens in my bar, stays in my bar. Got it?”
He put an arm around my shoulder, and pulled me in closer.
“Perfect,” I mumbled.
Federico was busy working on lighting his pipe while I was in the arms of a killer. Wasn’t he supposed to be helping me?
“What can I do ya for? Bourbon? Scotch? Vodka?”
“I think she’s more of a tequila drinker. Am I right, Mia?” Federico told him.
I so needed Lisa to pop in and break this thing up. I felt as if I was being forced to drink by my own stupidity. And what was Federico doing promoting it? I thought he was on my side. “Yes, but—”
“Well, let’s get to it. The day’s young. You got a lot of catchin’ up to do,” Jimmy said taking my hand and escorting me out to the bar area.
I had no choice but to follow him out.
In the meantime, Federico walked close behind, and I could hear him puffing on his pipe.
As we walked toward the bar, the strong scent of sweet berries permeated the air. The same exact scent I had smelled on Dickey when I was lying on top of him on the barn floor. At first I thought it was coming from something in the bar, until I realized the scent was coming from Federico’s tobacco.
My heart raced up to my throat. Everything finally made sense. My mom had tried to warn me, but I couldn’t or wouldn’t hear her. Jimmy wasn’t the killer, it was Federico. The man who practically raised me. The man who had taken care of my mom and me when we needed him most. The man who had taught me how to shoot a gun was a cold blooded killer, and I was walking right into his trap.
Where the hell was Lisa when I needed her?
TWENTY-TWO
A Hell of a Place to Spend the Night
The fall woke me from my head fog, not to mention the hard