Potts Better Butter Bakery Page 4

  Connie winced, murmured, “the mob,” and pushed herself away from Sativa, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.

  “Mama, did you know him?” Gina asked as she took her mother’s hand trying to comfort her.

  Connie nodded.

  “Who was he?” Gina asked.

  “Your father,” Connie said as she turned to look at Gina.

  Gina’s face drained of color was shadowed with emotions.

  “Ma, you never told me,” she choked out, “I knew he lived in Vegas, you told me that when I was a little girl and whenever I asked, you always said he didn’t want to see us anymore. You never said why and I never asked because it made you sad.”

  “I know, Gina, I didn’t want you to know who he was or what he did, he was wrapped up in too many bad activities. It was no life for either of us, so I ran away and took you with me, as far away as I could. Sativa got us a house here and her Grandmother and Mother helped us settle in. They became our family.”

  “I know, I miss them,” Gina choked as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “What should I do now, Sativa?” Connie asked as she dried her eyes and fumbled for another tissue. “Does anyone know who we are or where we are?”

  “I played dumb when Matt asked me any questions, I wanted to find out from you first. We will have to tell him, though.”

  “All these years,” Connie said a far-away look in her eye, “He refused to give me a divorce. His Catholic upbringing. Ironic. Especially with the life he led and his ‘business activities’.” Connie’s voice was almost a whisper. “I received a check each month deposited in a bank account in Vegas. I had the funds transferred to another account here. I didn’t want him to know where we were.” Connie wiped her eyes again, “I wanted it that way.” She reached for another tissue and blew her nose. She squeezed Gina’s hand, handed her a tissue, and looked at Sativa. “I wonder why he was here?”

  “We will never know, now,” Sativa replied.

  “Will you come with me, Sativa?” Connie asked hopefully.

  “Of course. It will have to be soon. Matt needs to know. Someone, a family member, needs to identify the body.”

  “We can go now if Indica will stay with Gina and the baby.”

  “I don’t think we could pry her loose, are you up to it?”

  “I hope I won’t start to cry, though,” Connie said as she went to get her purse.

  “Wow, that was sad. She still loves you, Bugsy, I can tell”

  “Yah, maybe, and the baby, isn’t he gorgeous?”

  “He’s so small, and his face is all red when he cries,” Fritzie said.

  “Of course it is, he’s only a week old. And my Gina, she is so pretty. Connie hasn’t changed that much. She’s still a knock-out.”

  “Oh well, too late now, Bugsy, you gave all this up for the mob.” Fritzie sighed.

  “Don’t remind me, and look what it got me, a knife in my back.”

  “Only because you took the loot. The mob doesn’t like that.”

  “Too bad. It’s for Connie and Gina…it’s the least I can do for them.”

  “Where’d you stash it, Bugsy?”

  “I’m not even telling you, Fritz, end of story. Have a cookie.”

  Chapter Ten

  That same morning…

  “Sarge, you have visitors,” Archie said as he stuck his head around the door to Matt’s office.

  “Who?” was Matt’s touchy reply.

  “Captain Rigby and Sargent Miller of the Las Vegas Police Department.”

  “They sure got here fast. Must have done the “Red Eye”, Matt muttered as he closed the file he was working on and shoved it aside. “Bring them in.”

  Archie disappeared and returned a few minutes later with two imposing figures in tow. Both were over six foot tall, khaki uniforms, insignias and gold braid dripping from their shoulders, ranger hats square over their eyes, and military posture meant to intimidate. They stood at attention in front of Matt’s desk waiting.

  Silently thankful he had dressed in an expertly dry cleaned and pressed uniform this morning, (navy polo shirt with the folds still visible, and chino pants with a crease that would slice a potato). He was also grateful that he had remembered to polish his cordovans after the soaking rain yesterday. Matt stood and extended a hand to the two officers standing before him.

  “Good Morning, Captain, Sargent, happy to have you here,” Matt lied and motioned for the two visitors to have a seat.

  Once seated, the older of the two began,

  “We understand you have a Las Vegas resident here in your morgue. We have come to claim the body and return him to Nevada,” Captain Rigby stated flatly.

  Matt knew they had no grounds for the demand, but he decided to play along.

  “We are waiting for the deceased’s family to come forward and claim the body,” Matt replied in his most professional, and he hoped, intimidating voice. “Perhaps if no family member comes forward and you produce the proper paperwork, we can release the body to you. Until that time, Captain Rigby, I must deny your request.” Matt stood and waited for the two to take their leave.

  Nodding their heads, the two officers stood and filed past Archie out the door.

  “Wow!,” Archie gave a low whistle, slid into Matt’s office, and closed the door after the visitors.

  “They are legitimate police officers, but my instincts tell me that they belong to the mob. Wonder why the mob is so interested in this guy?” Matt remarked not really expecting an answer. “Have you had lunch yet?” Archie shook his head.

  “Good, can you head out and get us some sandwiches? I’m hungry.”

  Another knock on the door and Archie opened it. Desk Sargent Williams poked his head around the frame and said, “More visitors, Sarge.”

  “Now who?” Matt growled, “I will never get my work done,” pointing to the pile of folders on his desk, he sighed and looked up at Williams, a questioning look on his face.

  “FBI, Sarge.”

  “What? No protocol? They should have called first. Did they, Williams? ” Williams shook his head. Matt sighed and said, “Send them in, please.”

  He turned to Archie, and said cryptically, “This should be interesting. Wonder what they want?”

  Williams nodded and withdrew. A few minutes later he knocked on the door and Archie opened it to admit two men, nattily dressed in identical black suits, white shirts, black ties, highly polished black (of course) shoes, and sunglasses which they never removed indoors or out.

  Matt again was grateful that he had dressed appropriately this morning. He sighed. It was going to be a long day. He stood and extended his hand.

  “Good morning, Gentlemen, I am Detective Sargent Matthew O’Mara and this is my Detective Corporal Archibald McInnis. How may we help you?”

  Matt indicated the two chairs recently vacated by the officers from Nevada and motioned for the two suits to be seated. When they were settled, Matt sat behind his desk and Archie perched on the edge of a table beside the office door.

  “I’m Agent Barker and this is Agent Cochran,” one of the suits said, “we are here to escort the body of---” He fumbled around in his pockets and pulled out a rumpled sticky-note, pulled it open and glanced, first at Archie, then at Matt, “the body of a Basilio ‘Bugsy’ Cappelli back to Nevada. Bureau’s orders.” He added in crisp tones.

  A slight pause as Matt gathered his thoughts. What the hell’s going on here? He looked the Agent directly in the eye.

  “Thank you, Gentlemen, I acknowledge the Bureau’s orders and concern, however, we are waiting for the deceased’s family to come forward and claim the body,” Matt replied again in his most professional, intimidating voice. “Perhaps if no family member comes forward and you produce the proper paperwork, we can release the body to you. Until that time, Agent Barker, I must deny your and the Bureau’s request.”

  Matt stood indicating the interview was over, extended his hand which was ignored and waited for the two suits
to stand and take their leave.

  And leave me in peace so I can do my work, and maybe have some lunch, he thought, forcing a smile at the retreating suits.

  Archie, sensing the Sarge’s need to return to his files quietly left the office and returned with two Styrofoam cups of what smelled like coffee.

  “Thanks Archie, this is turning into a nightmare,” he remarked as he sipped the hot bitter brew and scowled. “Who made this pot?”

  Archie had no time to answer as there was another knock on the door. Desk Sargent Williams again peeked cautiously around and announced yet another set of visitors.

  “Dammit!!!” Matt slammed his fist on the desk spilling some of his bitter brew which Archie hastily mopped up with some napkins left over from yesterday’s lunch.

  “Who Now?” Matt bellowed.

  “CIA, Sir.”

  Matt rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, counted to ten and said through clenched teeth, “Show them in, Williams.”

  Another few minutes brought a knock on the door and Archie opened it reluctantly.

  Three men in full SWAT regalia marched into the office and Matt had all he could do to control his smirk as he swallowed a laugh.

  This is some sort of a joke, he thought as he stood respectfully and extended his hand to whom he hoped was the officer in charge.

  “Good morning, Gentlemen, I am Detective Sargent Matthew O’Mara and this is my Detective Corporal Archibald McInnis, how may we help you?”

  Again, he motioned to the two chairs in front of the desk and Archie hastened to slide another over to accommodate the third visitor.

  Ignoring the extended hand, the three sat in unison at stiff attention. The tallest one spoke:

  “We are on a covert mission, so no names, please.” The jacket with the SWAT insignia on the left front pocket stated.

  “Certainly,” Matt agreed and waited for the jacket to state his business.

  “Our mission is to gain access to a corpse you are secreting in a drawer in your morgue.”

  “Really?” Matt questioned as his control was slowly slipping. He wasn’t certain if he wanted to laugh outright or punch out the lights of the three jackets seated before him, he was that pissed. Mustering a deep breath reminding himself that he was the officer in charge and swallowing an urge to jump over the desk and do bodily harm, he asked quietly,

  “And what would the name of this corpse be, if I may ask?” Matt asked through gritted teeth.

  “Sorry, that information is completely classified, do you understand?” The apparent speaker for the agents stated as the two others reached into their jackets with a menacing growl.

  Matt raised his hands in complete surrender and said, for the third time this morning, “Thank you for your interest. I - um - respect your privacy and your covert orders however,” Matt paused here to regain his placid face, “we are waiting for the deceased’s family to come forward and claim the body,” Matt replied in his most professional, intimidating voice. “Perhaps if no family member comes forward and you produce the proper paperwork, we can release the body to you. Until that time, I must deny your access to the body in the morgue.”

  Matt stood statue still, hands clenched at his side and waited as the three SWAT agents stood and left the office to leave me in peace so I can do my work, and Archie can get us some lunch, he grumbled, forcing a smile at the retreating jackets.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Dammit all to hell and back,” Matt collapsed back into his chair and cussed, “what is so important about this *&^%$ corpse?”

  “I dunno, Sarge, but he must be pretty important if even the Feds want to get his body.

  “Yes,” Matt pondered, “he was part owner of a casino in Vegas, so what?” Matt reasoned, “unless, he took something they want or need, or....”

  “Like loot?” Archie asked.

  “Yes, Archie, like big loot.”

  A gentle knock on the door again and Matt bellowed, “WHAT? *&^%$#@! NOW WILLIAMS?

  Desk Sargent Williams waved a white piece of paper around the door frame. Matt and Archie both roared with laughter.

  “Sorry, Williams, who is it now?” Matt asked in an almost normal voice, subduing his chuckles.

  “Visitors, Sir,”

  “Williams, no more visitors,” Matt’s voice started to rise to a shout.

  “I think you will want to see these two, Sarge,” Williams whispered sotto voce.

  Matt heaved a huge sigh, dropped his head down on the desk between both hands and motioned to Williams to bring them in.

  A second knock sounded discreetly and Archie cautiously opened the door. Sativa and another woman entered. Matt looked up in surprise.

  “Sativa, what are you doing here?” he asked irritated and slightly shocked, “who is this lady, no, don’t tell me,” Matt stood and motioned to one of the chairs, “Bugsy’s long-lost-wife?”

  “Matt, this is Connie Cappelli,” Sativa looked pointedly at Matt, “You would know her as Connie Columbo, she took her maternal grandmother’s name for safety reasons when she left Vegas with her daughter.” Sativa looked back at her friend, “Connie, this is someone I have known for years, Detective Sargent Matthew O’Mara.”

  Introductions over, Matt nodded, extended his hand to Connie for a firm handshake, and returned to his seat behind the desk. Sativa sat on the second chair.

  “Nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Cappelli or should I call you Mrs. Columbo.”

  “Please call me Connie, Detective Sargent, Sativa just told me about Basilio, I had no idea it was him. We have been separated for over fifteen years,” Connie reached into her purse and pulled out the packet of tissues. She slid one from the pack and dabbed at her eyes, apologizing for the tears.

  Matt smiled kindly at her and felt a sadness for this estranged new widow. Although he was slightly upset with Sativa for not being open with him.

  “Sativa, why didn’t you tell me? Didn’t you trust me?” Matt asked accusingly.

  “It wasn’t my information to tell, Matt. Connie wanted to remain anonymous for reasons of her own, the mob can be very nasty.”

  “Can you think of any reason why the mob is so interested in his body?” Matt questioned.

  “What do you mean, Matt?” Sativa asked.

  “Today I have been visited by the Las Vegas Police Department, the FBI and the CIA. They all want his body returned to Las Vegas. That activity tells me that there is more to this than a simple mob hit.” Matt said as he looked pointedly at Archie.

  “Coffee Sarge?” Archie asked indicating he got the ‘look’. Matt nodded and Archie left the office closing the door quietly behind him.

  “Are you here to claim the body, Connie? As his nearest relative, you have that right.”

  Connie nodded and a new rush of tears followed as she tried to stem the flow with several more tissues.

  Sativa leaned over and held Connie’s hand and waited while Connie wiped away more tears.

  “Matt, what’s going to happen now?” Sativa asked. She gave Matt eye contact and was relieved when he returned her look. She was pleased to see that he was still her friend at least and held no grudges, she hoped.

  “After she identifies the body and signs the release, we can send him to a funeral home for a wake and burial, if those are your wishes, Connie.”

  Connie nodded and squeezed Sativa’s hand holding on to it as if it was her lifeline.

  “Do you have any suggestions as to which mortuary, Matt?” Sativa asked politely as Connie had another outburst of sobs and tears.

  “Digger is really nice, that’s the Digby O’Dell Funeral Parlor on Rte. 6A. He can handle the details; all Connie has to do is show up.” Matt recommended. “He isn’t overly expensive, either.”

  As Sativa, Connie and Matt discussed this future event, Fritzie and Bugsy were watching, seated on the top of a high file cabinet against the far wall listening intently.

  “I like this guy. He at least is a little compassionate. Those jerks f
rom Vegas would just hand you a shovel,” Fritzie said, spitting out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Fritzie, don’t do that!” Bugsy shouted, becoming angry.

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Spit like that. You can’t do that anymore.

  “You’re right, Bugs, I’ll try to remember, we got a baby to consider and that ain’t healthful.”

  “Thanks, Fritz.”

  “We can’t do much more, here. Wonder why the FBI and CIA are in on this?”

  “Maybe because that ‘loot’ came from a Federal Bank Depository,” Fritz said as he scratched his head thinking.

  “No, that was the other heist we did.”

  “Which one did you stash the loot from?”

  “The big one we did in Vegas. The one with the five casinos.”

  “Geeze, Bugsy, not that one. No wonder the Feds and CIA want you. That was a big hush-hush. Ya gotta give the loot back, Bugs, or else they will go after Connie and Gina.”

  “No, they won’t!” Bugsy shouted.

  “Shhhhh, Bugs, you can deny it all you want, but you know what the mob is like. They won’t stop until they get it back.”

  “They’ll have to find it first.”

  Fritzie knew his friend well enough to understand that he wouldn’t give up when his mind was set. He decided to change the subject.

  “Come on, let’s go see the baby,” Fritz suggested, hoping that might work.

  “Okay, that’s a good idea. I like being a ghost, it has its advantages.”

  “Ya, watch this.” Fritzie laughed and grabbed Bugsy’s hand pulling him along.

  The two ghosts circled around and sashayed out through the nearest closed window…

  “Cool!” laughed Bugsy, “I love being a ghost!”

  Chapter Twelve

  Two days later

  The Digby O’Dell Funeral Home was quintessential Cape Cod, quaint, homey, and dignified. All that was missing was the sand and surf, and that was less than five miles away. April flower beds graced the front lawn showing stubs of daffodils and tulips poking their way up through the damp soil. A few purple violets were scattered around in the new sprouts of yellow-green grass as they dappled the landscape.