The Spia Family Presses On - By Mary Leo Page 0,74

Dickey’s killer, who knows what’ll end up in my freezer?” I meant it to be a joke, but from the glum look on Lisa’s face, I guessed she wasn’t taking it that way.

“You’re into this whole mob world more than I thought.”

A quote from my past flew into my head. “When you lie with dogs you’re going to get fleas.”

“Where’d that come from?”

“My dad. He was good at smart little quips.”

“Wait, Mia. This is much more than I bargained for.”

She stopped walking. I turned to her. “It’s too late to back out now. The killer already knows you’re in the game.”

“I need a drink,” she said, and stopped walking.

The mere thought of a drink—a shot of tequila preferably, with a wedge of lime and a lick of salt—made me want to give up this insane quest and take off for the nearest bar. But instead I continued on the path.

Lisa followed close behind.

“What I wouldn’t give,” I said when she caught up to me.

“Maybe when we’re to Maui, a big fat Mai Thai in one of those bucket glasses with a pink paper umbrella stuck in a slice of cold pineapple hanging off the side,” she suggested, but I knew she was merely playing my put-it-off-until-later game. So far, the game was working. My resolve was still in check, but there was no telling how long that would last.

It only took us a few minutes to walk to the bungalow where my two aunts lived.

“Is it always this dark around here?” Lisa whispered as she climbed the porch stairs behind me.

“No. Usually their porch light is like a beacon. This can’t be good.” Aunt Babe didn’t like the dark and their house reflected her fears. Every room usually glowed with light, even when they were sleeping.

But not tonight.

When I stepped up on the porch, I could see their front door was slightly open. “Okay, this is making me scared.”

I slowly pushed the door open.

“Upon entering a situation that could potentially be dangerous, always be aware of your immediate surroundings and never let your guard down for an instant,” Lisa said, obviously quoting herself while stiffening her body and walking with her arms in some kind of martial arts readiness position.

I tried to take on the same stance, but somehow I just wasn’t feeling it.

The living room was dark except for the light coming from their thirty-gallon fish tank gurgling on a shelf to our left. Across the room, a sliver of light glowed from under the kitchen door. My aunts liked to do some of their special orders and try out new recipes in their own industrial strength kitchen where they could bake in their jammies.

“I don’t like this,” I complained to Lisa.

“That makes two of us. Maybe we’re being too stupid to live. The killer could be in there. Or maybe he’s already been here and gone. Finding one dead body is enough excitement, I don’t need to find another one.”

“Don’t even think that. I love these ladies.”

“Then we need to get some help.”

“Don’t you have a black belt or something?”

“Yeah, a lovely Prada silk number. It’s hanging in my closet. No. I don’t have a black belt. I took beginner classes last summer for research.”

“Well, pretend you have one ‘cause I’m going in.”

“Hello!” I yelled. “Anybody home? Aunt Babe, Aunt Hetty, are you here?”

A loud pop then a crash blasted through the house. It came from the kitchen. Immediately, my mind latched onto the gunshot explanation, and my heart raced like a bunny rabbit’s.

Then, a loud bang.

“If this kind of stuff keeps up, we’re going to have to start packing a weapon,” Lisa said. “I’ve got a nice little Glock at home that would give me a lot more courage.”

Without thinking, I took off for the kitchen moving on pure adrenalin. No way could I let anything bad happen to my aunts.

I was fearless.

Or extremely dumb, depending on the outcome.

“Wait for me,” Lisa yelled as she raced up behind me.

As soon as I swung open the door, something gooey hit me right smack in my face and clung on. It smelled and tasted a lot like Amaretto.

I licked my lips.

Definitely Amaretto.

Startled, I attempted to open my eyes, but they were gooed shut. As I began to wipe off my face, I heard Lisa yell, “Incoming.”

Another glob of something hit me on the left side of my head, and I felt it slowly ooze down my cheek. This one had chunks. I took a taste. Cannoli filling, the perfect