“Right? The woman is a serious bitch.” I twist the faucets and adjust the water temperature but stop when her fingers curl around my wrist.
The baker catches my gaze, old eyes shining brightly. “Before you start, tell me about your case. This time, I want to be the one with the latest scoop.”
I shake my head with a tight smile. “Sorry, I really can’t say.”
Her blue-haired friend who I almost forgot was sitting next to us, puts in her two cents. “Are you aware Martha used to be a newspaper woman for the New York Times?”
“I honestly did not.” As I pump shampoo into my palm, I am again amazed at what I learn standing at this sink.
“Well, dearie, you did the right thing. Elena wants her mother’s money. Inheritance is the only reason she moved in with her.”
Mrs. Murphy leans back as I massage her scalp and closes her eyes. “You will tell us first, won’t you Samantha? Nora got the scoop on the missing Jesus and she was invited everywhere for weeks. You’d think she’d visited the pope.”
I had no idea I was so notorious amongst the bingo crowd. “I can promise if you’re here, in the salon, you’ll be one of the first to know.”
Aunt Marion clears her throat and when I look over, she gives me a thumbs up.Phew. Maybe my day is turning around.
When my shift finally comes to an end, I stop by my old apartment and ask Joey if my room is available, just in case.
“Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. Josi went back to school but I’m guessin’ youz knew that.”
I nod.
“However, youz need to check with Vinny but it’s okay wid me.”
“Thanks. I will.”
At home, thank God, the construction next door is on some kind of prolonged break. Inside, I find Suds kneeling on the bathroom doorframe, placing the last ceramic tile on the floor.
“What do you think?” He wipes the yellowish marble with a rag.
I squat behind him, my chest to his back. “Amazing. I love the color. They look expensive.”
“Nah. The hardware store owner knew a guy who knew a guy who had some leftover tiles. I got them for a song.”
“What’s the catch?”
“None, why?” When he turns, he knocks me onto my ass and helps me up as I moan.
“Oh, Sebastian, Sebastian. There is always a favor owed for a favor given in this neighborhood.”
“Well, if a Mr. Lee comes in and wants you to fuck him, you’ll know why. You don’t suppose he’ll ask me to kill someone?” Chuckling, he rinses his rag in the sink while I stick my tongue out at him.
“If he does, you can ask Frankie. By the way, did Mrs. Rossini’s daughter, Elena stop by?”
His brows raise. “No, why?”
“She came to the salon and wanted me to return Martha’s retainer. She refused to leave so I told her she should talk to you. I guess she figured you were too intimidating.”
He gets down on his hands and knees, rubbing invisible spots off the tiles. “Me? I’m a fucking pussycat.”
“Uh-huh. I heard something else, too. Do you remember Mrs. Murphy? She owns the bakery on the corner?”
“Not really, but go on.” When his heavenly dark eyes lift, my clit twinges. Maybe we can get naked on the couch.
It takes me a second to get my mind back on business. “She said Martha used to write for the New York Times. I didn’t have a chance to look her up. I’m going to do it right now.
Back at the table, I open up a browser, and whistle. “Holy cow. She won a Pulitzer in the sixties.”
