Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Oh, sorry,” Cormac said smoothly. “My name is Cormac Coretti. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
That happens a lot with this crew.” Pierce’s gaze flicked toward me. “Did you say Coretti?”
“I did,” Cormac said, his tone cautious. “If you’re about to tell me that name sounds both Italian and Irish, you’re right. Seems to be a theme around here.”
Pierce laughed again, shaking his head. “Good luck, buddy. I’d get out of town as fast as you can.” He reached down to the panel by the wall and pressed a keypad. Both cell doors buzzed and swung open. “Everybody out. Try not to track too much of a mess across my floor, and settle the bill with the Clumsy Penguin within a week.”
He stepped back, giving us plenty of room.
We filed out of the cells, a disheveled parade of flour-covered chaos. The scent of stale coffee, wet clothes, and leftover fried food followed us up the narrow staircase to the main reception area. My hair itched where a clump of flour refused to let go.
Gloria sat in one of the waiting chairs near the front desk. She stood the moment she saw us, her pink coat crisp and her curls glossy, as if she hadn’t just walked into a disaster zone.
“Gloria?” Nana asked. “What are you doing here?”
Gloria placed her hands on her hips. “Zippy. Why did you call me? I’m not someone who bails you out of jail.”
“Oh, come on, Gloria,” Zippy said, trying for charm but sounding tired. “I know you’re married and all, but you can’t be happy with him.”
“I am happy with him,” she said firmly. She looked us all over, nose wrinkling. “You appear to be a complete mess. What happened?”
So word hadn’t spread. Good. “It’s a long story,” I said wearily.
Gloria turned on Zippy with a glare. “I really don’t think my lawyer should be getting in scuffles with my nemesis.”
Nana reared back. “Nemesis? I’m not your nemesis.”
“Of course you are,” Gloria said.
“No,” Nana said calmly. “I’ve never thought of you that way.”
Gloria frowned. “But we compete for pies every year.”
“Well, yes,” Nana said. “That doesn’t make us nemeses. I like your pies. Usually.”
Gloria blinked several times. “You do?”
“Sure,” Nana said. “You make a great pie, Gloria. Mine are just a little better.”
Gloria reared back, jaw dropping.
Nana raised her hands quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. Seriously. I did not mess with your pie.”
“It was your lotion that ruined it, Fiona,” Gloria said, her voice rising.
Zippy winced. “No yelling, please. It’s been a rough night.” He sighed heavily. “Gloria, would you give me a ride to my car at the Clumsy Penguin? We can talk about your case on the way.”
Gloria crossed her arms. “So long as you understand that I like my husband, not you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I understand,” Zippy muttered.
Gloria turned back to us, eyes narrowing. “I swear, the day the Albertini and O’Shea families combined was a disaster for the entire state.” With that, she pivoted on her heel and strode toward the door. Zippy followed, his shoes squelching faintly on the floor.
I looked at the remaining group. “I guess we’re headed over the pass.”
“I’ve got them,” Cormac said, lifting a hand. “I’m staying at the B-and-B in Silverville. I can take the ladies home.”
Nana sneezed, her tiny body jolting forward.
“Bless you,” Donna said.
Nana waved a hand. “We probably shouldn’t drive yet, Elda. We did a lot of shots.”
“Yes,” Nonna said wisely. “You are correct. Cormac, we would be delighted to accept your offer. We can talk about your family on the way over.”
Cormac’s grin looked pained, and for once there wasn’t even the ghost of a dimple. “Actually, I was hoping we’d just listen to the radio.” He escorted the grandmothers outside, each of them kissing us on the cheeks before departing in a cloud of perfume, exhaustion, and faint whiskey fumes.
Donna and I stood in the reception area, watching the door swing closed behind them. The fluorescent light overhead buzzed faintly.
“What now?” she asked.
“I have no idea.”
Pierce emerged from his office, looking even more tired than when he’d come in. “I’ll give you a ride to the Clumsy Penguin. Your cars are still there, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “They loaded us into a van to bring us here.”
“All right,” he said. “Let’s go, and before anyone else tells you, let me be the one.”
I gulped. “What?”
“Jolene O’Sullivan already went to print.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled. “It’s online tonight and will be in the paper tomorrow. She wasn’t there, but she got witness statements and pictures fast.”
He held out the screen, a little too much satisfaction in his eyes.
I looked down and groaned. The photo showed me scrambling on the floor, covered in flour, a chicken wing stuck to my shoulder. Nonna was mid-swing with her wooden spoon, Nana perched triumphantly on top of Zippy.