Frankie's Back in Town, page 9
“No, I’m not okay. My kid’s heading off to war. Who the hell knows if he’ll make it back in one piece?” Randy exhaled sharply. “I’m not okay, but I am proud. He’s twenty-one and planning to save the world. Do you even remember what it felt like to be on fire?”
Jack glanced back at the computer display. Not so long ago, cracking a case wide would have had him on fire.
Randy must have taken the continued silence as his answer because he gave a short laugh. “Hell. Me, either. Too damn long ago. What I want to know is how I’m supposed to sleep at night knowing he’s over there dodging artillery?”
Jack stared at Randy, not exactly surprised that behind the competence and sarcasm was a father who loved his son. Randy didn’t often share that glimpse of himself. He either felt comfortable around Jack in a way he didn’t with most of his coworkers, or he was really rattled. Jack guessed the latter.
“If it’s any help,” he said, “I can give you something to take your mind off your troubles.”
“What’s that?”
He tossed down a sheath of papers in front of Randy. “How about eleven hits on the resident list?”
Randy’s eyes widened. “No shit? We can wipe all the service people off the suspect list. That’ll narrow things down a lot.”
And point them in the direction of the people with access to the residents’ personal information.
Greywacke Lodge administration.
CHAPTER TEN
“I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW TALENTED that daughter of yours is,” Yvette said casually while striding through the office to place yet another folder on the precarious stack of paperwork that had taken root on the side of the desk.
Francesca glanced up from Susanna’s proposal to change service providers and said automatically, “Thanks.” Then she met Yvette’s smiling gaze and dragged her thoughts out of the paperwork. “That was random.”
Yvette laughed. “Not really. I just ran into her.”
“Really? Where?”
“In the restaurant.”
Obviously Yvette assumed that the elder generation Raffa had a bead on what was happening with the younger generation. Not so. Francesca glanced at the clock. Gabrielle should have been on the school bus headed home right now.
Yvette quickly figured out her announcement was coming as a surprise and, coward that she was, hightailed it out of the office with a hastily muttered, “Look at the time.”
Francesca stared at the closing door with a frown. With a regretful gaze at the tottering stack of work, she deemed discovering what was going on with her daughter more important than making a dent in that never-ending pile.
Francesca left the office to find that Yvette wasn’t even at her desk. Probably hiding in the copy room.
Clearly something was up with Gabrielle, that much was a given. Ashokan High was within biking distance of the lodge, but since Gabrielle hadn’t brought her bike from Phoenix, she must have walked from school. Had she missed the bus?
That was a no-brainer.
If she’d missed the bus, she would need a ride home, which would have left her two choices—either calling Francesca for that ride or dealing with the situation on her own.
Getting a ride from school wasn’t an issue as Gabrielle well knew. The fact that she’d already needed two rides this week…well, apparently she didn’t want to deal with the questions that her actions would invite.
Something was up. Another mystery.
Strolling past the restaurant windows, Francesca glanced inside. The lodge hosted a monthly tea. The activities director occasionally hired professional entertainment, but more often than not, she encouraged residents to showcase their talents.
As a result the monthly tea was a well-attended event, so well attended that they’d established an arts and entertainment council whose sole function was seeking out the talent hiding in the lodge and keeping it from getting dusty.
Today, showcased on the small stage, was none other than…her daughter.
Gabrielle wasn’t performing alone. Rather, she was seated beside Eddie Shaw, guitar player extraordinaire, who accompanied her on what Francesca believed to be a mandolin.
The audience sat in small clusters around tables decorated with fresh flowers and red and white tulle. They sipped coffee and tea, nibbled cookies and scones and enjoyed the music, an intricate piece that must have taken a good bit of rehearsing.
Likely the reason Gabrielle had been missing the bus.
Making her way to the restaurant’s main entrance, Francesca hovered in the doorway to hear the performance better.
Gabrielle was very talented. She’d been playing the violin since second grade and had routinely earned superior status at solo and ensemble competitions. And every year she’d been invited to perform in All-County and All-State ensembles.
But guitar was her passion. She had her head filled with bands and concerts, not unlike her mother at that age, and to Francesca’s sorrow, Gabrielle hadn’t joined orchestra in high school because she’d wanted to use any free time left after schoolwork and social life to practice.
Of course, guitar had taken precedence to everything.
Francesca didn’t enter the restaurant until the performance ended to appreciative applause and the guests began to chitchat among their groups. She spotted Nonna seated with Auntie Pippa and zigzagged through the tables to a chorus of polite greetings that announced her presence.
Gabrielle was primed and ready by the time Francesca reached the table. “Hello, Mother.”
“Hello, dear. Miss the bus?”
Once upon a time, Gabrielle would have had the grace to look abashed when caught in the act. Now she gave an amused laugh. “Not exactly. Been practicing with Mr. Shaw.”
She slanted her gaze toward the man who was now making his way to them, greeting his crowd of appreciative admirers. With bright blue eyes, a shock of thick white hair and a quick grin, Eddie Shaw looked the part of celebrity heartthrob. He was a charmer in every sense of the word given how often Francesca encountered him chatting with women in the hallways. Married and widowed alike.
As far as Francesca was concerned there were two types of charmers—charming gentlemen and charming rogues. Eddie Shaw was the latter. Just like her ex-husband had been. Completely engaging as long as no one expected anything more than wining and dining and romance. She didn’t have any trouble imagining her ex-husband at Eddie’s age, still the life of the party.
Jack, too.
Only Jack’s future wasn’t any of her business. If he wanted to spend his retirement charming the ladies, that was his prerogative. She wished him well.
Stubbornly fixing her attention on the room, Francesca pushed all thoughts of Jack from her head. Seemed like every thought circled to him.
“Isn’t it awesome?” Gabrielle tilted the neck of the guitar from the case.
There was no missing that this guitar was in an entirely different league from the five-hundred dollar model Francesca had bought her daughter several years ago.
“It’s lovely,” she agreed.
“Custom-made for me by Señor Mendoza in Seville,” Mr. Shaw said as if Francesca would understand what that meant.
Gabrielle obviously did because she gave an ecstatic sigh as Mr. Shaw launched into praise for Gabrielle’s talent.
“Eddie has offered to give Gabrielle lessons since she hasn’t found a new instructor yet,” Nonna said. “Here, dolly. Sit down. You should try these pecan sandies. You look thin.”
Not according to the scale. But she accepted the cookie anyway to avoid a debate. “That’s a very generous offer, Mr. Shaw. Gabrielle and I can discuss it when we get home.”
“Just let me know. Ladies.” Mr. Shaw tipped his hat, those blue eyes twinkling. “Now if you’ll excuse me. I see Fanny flagging me down. Great job, Gabrielle. We’ll work on some Count Basie next.” With that he lifted her hand to his mouth in a gallant gesture before sauntering off with a jaunty, if somewhat slow-motion stride.
“Such a nice man,” Nonna said.
“He’s an old hound dog,” Minnie Moorehead commented from a nearby table, obviously having overheard every word of the conversation. “I wouldn’t leave my daughter alone with him.”
Gabrielle slanted her chair so her back faced Minnie and stuck her finger in her mouth, as if the very idea of that sort of impropriety was enough to make her gag.
Francesca scowled. “I’ll take it under advisement.”
“You heed me well, girl. I don’t want to tell you how he propositioned me in the elevator.”
“Minnie,” Nonna said, horrified. “He didn’t?”
Gabrielle started up feigned twitching, and Francesca scowled harder.
“He did. Hound dog. Mind my words, all of you.” Minnie shook her head, oblivious to Gabrielle’s facial theatrics. “Now what about you, Francesca? How’s it going with your new man?”
“I don’t have time enough to clear my desk, let alone find time for a man,” Francesca said.
“No wonder your grandmother is so worried about you.”
Francesca turned her scowl on Nonna, who informed her, “He’s a bachelor, dolly. I asked.”
“Asked whom?”
“Why Dottie, of course,” Mr. Butterfield announced from the table to the other side of them, proving that everyone within earshot was listening to this conversation. “She’s the authority around here. Knows everything about everyone.”
Dottie leaned around her husband and peered myopically from thick, large-rimmed glasses. “I’m well connected.”
“I see,” Francesca said, wishing she didn’t.
“Into everyone’s business, more’s the like,” Mr. Butterfield said under his breath. Unfortunately, as his hearing wasn’t quite what it could have been, his whisper managed to carry a good ten feet in every direction.
“Well connected,” Dottie Butterfield repeated. “I’ve known Jack’s family since long before his daddy was in knickers. In fact, Jack’s granddaddy was sweet on me in our time.” She fixed a glacial expression on her husband. “The life I might have had if I’d have stuck with him. Youth is wasted on the young.”
Mr. Butterfield just grunted, clearly unwilling to tempt fate with a reply.
Dottie had the floor and ran with it. “Jack’s a good boy from a good family. He’s doing a lovely job running the police department, and from what I hear, the whole town’s happy with him in charge. He’s a man of his word like his daddy and granddaddy. The kind of boy you can bank on.”
Nonna nodded approvingly. “And he’s a bachelor.”
“Sure is,” Dottie said. “Never once been married.”
“Not one of those homosexuals, is he?” Minnie asked in a voice loud enough to catch the attention of a few more tables. “Nice-looking boy like that. Pity.”
“He is not homosexual, Minnie,” Dottie stated emphatically. “He hasn’t found the right girl to settle with yet. That’s what his mama told me, anyway.”
Nonna caught Francesca’s gaze and winked. “A handsome bachelor.”
“Who’s not homosexual.” Minnie nodded approvingly.
Gabrielle leaned forward and patted Francesca’s hand. “Nonna’s right, Mom. He sounds perfect. Not gay. No child support. He’ll be able to afford me. Unless you want me to go back to Phoenix and live with Dad.”
“Gabrielle Concetta Cecilia.” Francesca glowered.
“There’s more to life than work, dolly,” Nonna said. “There should be more to your life.”
“Exactly when would I have time for more life when my hands are full with you two?” The comedy team of grandmother who thought she knew everything and teenager who was sure she did.
“Read my lips, people. Not interested.” Francesca smiled so hard it hurt, reminding herself that they were worried about her. Since she was the one who usually did the worrying, she should be grateful. “So thank you all very much for your generous advice.” Very generous. Abundantly generous. “Now I see folks are starting to leave. Nonna, why don’t Gabrielle and I walk you back to your apartment?”
Gabrielle popped out of her seat as if she’d been ejected. “I’ve got to take the guitar back to Mr. Shaw’s apartment.”
“Fine, then straight back to Nonna’s.”
She muttered an agreement and packed Señor Mendoza’s custom-made guitar back in its case while Nonna plucked a variety of cookies from a platter and wrapped them in a napkin.
“For coffee later.”
Of course, she squirreled away enough cookies to serve half the fourth floor, but Francesca merely offered to carry them and steered Nonna in the direction of the door.
“You asked me not to start up speculation about the captain’s wallet, dolly. And I didn’t. I diverted people.”
As far as plans went, this wasn’t the best Francesca had ever heard. But she was impressed with Nonna’s clarity of thought to point that out.
“I did mention Jack’s a bachelor, didn’t I?”
“You most definitely did.”
So much for clarity of thought. Nonna’s or her own. She was absolutely, positively not going to start thinking about Jack the bachelor. “I’ll take it under advisement. That’s the best I can do. I’m glad you care.”
“Of course I care, dolly. I love you.”
Francesca didn’t say another word as the elevator whisked them up to the fourth floor and they walked the short distance down the hallway to Nonna’s door, where she pressed the lumpy pile of cookies into her grandmother’s hands.
“Gabrielle should be along any minute,” she said. “I’m heading back to work so I won’t run late tonight. I’ll collect my daughter when it’s time to go.”
Nonna kissed her goodbye, and Francesca headed to the stairs, needing a few quiet minutes to collect herself.
She didn’t question how much Nonna cared, but she had to figure out some way to reassure her grandmother that she was happiest as a single woman. If and when the time ever came for romance again, maybe after Gabrielle had gone off to college, Francesca would consider what sort of man she wanted.
But she would definitely steer clear of men like Jack, who could melt chocolate with a glance. Francesca wanted a man who wanted to be in a partnership, a man who understood that it took two people to weather life’s ups and downs. She wanted someone who would have her back when she was feeling pounded on and someone she could care for without worrying that he’d take advantage.
She didn’t buy Dottie Butterfield’s explanation for Jack’s bachelorhood. Not for a second. Charming, gorgeous man like him would have a world of possibilities to choose from. But Jack probably didn’t have any interest in family life. Wouldn’t be uncommon for such a charming man.
And if that was the case, then Francesca gave him credit for living his life on his terms. There was no rule that said people had to get married and have kids. Family life was a gift she’d learned to appreciate after having a daughter of her own. Some men—and women for that matter—weren’t interested in making those sorts of commitments to other people. Nothing wrong with that.
There was something wrong with people who tried to milk the best from both worlds. A family meant seeing to another’s needs before one’s own sometimes. Heck, a lot of the time. Men who weren’t willing to do their share in the family only made life heartbreaking for everyone around them.
She knew that firsthand.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I’M AVAILABLE, YVETTE,” Susanna said into the intercom. “Tell Francesca she can come now.”
Susanna braced herself for the door to open. This unexpected visit must be about the changes she’d proposed to the property’s service provider. If Frankie denied her proposal without any negotiation whatsoever, her reasoning would have to be personal. True, the property hadn’t been hardwired all that long ago, but they stood to save considerably by making the switch. And those numbers would mean a great deal in this economy.
Hopefully Frankie wouldn’t get in the way of Susanna doing her job, but she honestly wouldn’t be surprised. She’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since walking through the door of Northstar Corporate to meet her newest director.
Maybe Frankie was pissed off because she’d been ostracized all those years ago. She could have been biding her time to establish her credibility before using her position to make Susanna’s life miserable as payback for past sins.
Kids could be so brutal. Even worse when they were in groups, especially with Karan as the ringleader. But the ugliness had worked both ways. Frankie had made herself an easy target with her attitude. She’d never once backed down to any of them, which had invited a lot more animosity. An unhealthy circle that had fed the enmity on both sides.
Everyone involved had a responsibility in those situations. She’d tried to explain that to her son, Brandon, after his latest run-in with Trevor McGraw, the boy who’d been bullying him on the baseball field since T-ball. Sometimes Brandon stood up for himself. Sometimes not. Either way, the situation always took a tremendous amount of emotional energy for both Susanna and her son.
Yeah, kids could definitely be brutal.
When a knock sounded, Susanna called, “Come in.”
Frankie appeared, her professional demeanor cranked up to high. She stood just inside the doorway, and Susanna didn’t bother inviting her to sit down.
“I’m calling a staff meeting,” Frankie said. “I have some news, and since it involves some of your people, I didn’t want you to be sandbagged when I make the announcement.”
Not about her proposal then. Susanna wasn’t sure what to make of that. “What’s up?”
“I got a call from the police, and it seems they’ve eliminated the suspects with physical access to the captain’s wallet. They’re narrowing their investigation to people with access to our residents’ personal information.”
“Why?”
“They’ve discovered suspicious charges on a number of our other residents’ cards and suspect an identity theft scam.”
Susanna could only stare. “How many residents?”
