gave you. That woman knows something.”
“Yeah, but what?”
“If you weren’t my best friend, I’d start walking and never look back. Are you sure we can’t leave for Maui tonight?”
“Not a good idea, especially since the killer thinks we have his precious ring. We may never make it to the airport.”
“Scare me more, why don’t you,” Lisa said.
“I think my family hid the body and the quest for the ring is something only one of them wants. A body has to be easier to find than a ring. If we find the body then the killer can’t blackmail us.”
“Okay, we concentrate on finding the body.”
But I still wasn’t sure. “But what do we do with it once we find it? How do we explain everything to Nick and not send everybody to prison, us included?”
I poured myself another cup of tea.
“I told you, I can take care of Nick.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. He’s all cop, and even you can’t change that.”
“But it’ll be a lot of fun trying.”
She beamed confidence.
“Okay, so we’re back on the trail of a missing body.”
“For now, that’s the plan,” she said.
“Good, ‘cause that part about how nobody will miss one less mobster, I think Jade Batista just became Ms Nobody.”
Thirty minutes later, dressed in hiking boots, jeans, and a long-sleeved, cream sweater, I was standing in my mother’s kitchen grilling Uncle Benny about the missing body. I hadn’t thrown in the part about the finger yet, or the missing ring bit. I guess I was saving that morsel of information for later when I was completely desperate. At the moment I was trying for somewhat optimistic, even with Jade’s appearance.
Benny sat at the table, drinking coffee out of an oversized pink mug with red hearts. He wore his threadbare picking clothes, complete with a Panama straw hat that had seen better days. Lisa was in my shower, and Jade was off somewhere with Aunt Babe who was probably trying to convince her to help pick olives. Everyone was recruited when it came time to harvest: relatives, friends, several day laborers who were familiar with hand-harvesting olives, and of course, a neighbor or two who had their own personal harvest to tend to and would be in need of help in the coming weeks.
We were currently picking our koroneiki olives in their young, deep green stage. This usually took a couple weeks of harvesting. Federico would oversee the first crush. We didn’t like our fruit to sit more than twenty-four to forty-eight hours, mold could set in. We’d store the oil for blending later with other more mature olives, like the mission or pendolino, depending on the label he and Mom wanted. The high content of polyphenols not only produced a higher level of antioxidants, but it also made for a longer shelf life, not to mention that distinctive grassy flavor with a peppery finish.
“Just tell me what you did with the body and I’ll take care of the rest,” I said, trying to sound as if I knew what “the rest” was going to be, because in truth, I didn’t have a clue.
“I am telling you, I am just as puzzled as you are,” he said while chewing on his cigar.
As it turned out, when Jade and my mom discovered that Dickey wasn’t in his room, and his SUV had gone missing Jade decided to wait for Dickey’s return.
How long could this family keep up the hoax?
“Oh, give it up. You expect me to believe you didn’t bury him somewhere? Like under the old olive tree next to the barn? That Jimmy and Ray didn’t help you?”
“I swear on my father’s grave, I have no idea what happened to that body. I am glad it is gone, but I did not move it.”
“Swearing on your father’s grave doesn’t work. The man tried to have your mother killed. You hate your father.”
“That is beside the point, Mia. I do not denigrate the dead.”
“I’d feel better if you swore on your mother’s grave.”
His face went hard. “That, I cannot do. She was a saint, may she rest in peace.” He softened, made the sign of the cross and looked toward the ceiling or heaven in his case. “I make it a point never to use my dear mother when I am swearing. Swearing in front of my mother is not something I would ever have done.”
“You’re not swearing, like in saying a dirty word, you’re taking an oath that you’re telling the truth. You, of all people