“My mother was whimsical,” Zippy said with a shrug.
“Can you let us out?” I asked, hopeful.
Pierce glanced around the cells. “Anyone here planning to press charges?”
We all shook our heads.
“I spoke with Luanne over at the Clumsy Penguin,” he said, “and she also doesn’t want to press charges so long as you all agree to split the cleaning costs.”
“Gladly,” Nana said at once.
“I totally agree,” Nonna murmured. “We might have made a bit of a mess.”
Nonna looked down at her clothes and then at Nana. “These things happen, Fiona.”
“They do,” Nana agreed. She put an arm around Nonna’s waist, and my stomach dropped.
“Oh no.” I glanced at Donna, and she looked just as alarmed.
Nonna smiled sweetly at Pierce. “I don’t know if you knew this, Fiona, but Detective Grant Pierce here has both Italian and Irish in his lineage.”
Pierce froze mid-step, color creeping up his neck.
“Really?” Nana asked, her accent deepening. “How did you know that?”
“I did a genealogy study on him,” Nonna said proudly. “Back when he kept arresting Anna. I thought there might be a romance there, but I got that one wrong.”
Nana’s smile turned full Irish. “Aiden is the right one for her, and he’s so Irish. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a bit of Italian in his background too.”
Nonna nodded solemnly. “I can see that.”
The sound of Pierce’s sigh filled the cell block. He looked like a man who wished he had called in sick.
“You did get Nick Basanelli for Tessa,” Nana offered magnanimously.
“Yes,” Nonna said. “But he has some Irish in him. Mainly Italian, but there’s a little Irish.”
“That’s good to hear,” Nana said cheerfully.
Cormac stared at both of them, then looked at Donna and finally at Pierce. He blinked slowly, as if trying to process the unique chaos.
Nonna smiled, pure mischief glinting in her eyes. “Detective Pierce, I would love it if you came over for one of our family barbecues. You could escort Donna.”
I swear, Pierce paled two full shades. He was a great guy, steady as a stone wall, but he’d once told me he’d rather be shot, stabbed, and set on fire before dating an Albertini. I tilted my head, peering around my grandmothers at him. “Donna very rarely gets into trouble like I do,” I said.
Pierce snorted. “She gets into the same kind of mess about seventy percent of the time.”
“Seventy percent?” Cormac asked, glancing at Donna and then at Pierce. “That seems like a lot.”
Pierce threw his head back and laughed, the sound filling the station. “You have no idea. Who are you again?” he asked after a beat, still chuckling.
“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.”
