Courting Disaster Part 22

Once inside, she headed for the study and Serefina's desk. "Here are her to-do lists," Angie called excitedly as Connie went through a stack of papers she'd found on a low wooden cabinet.

"Good," Connie said, "because there isn't much here but a lot of old historical papers."

"Historical? Since when is Serefina interested in history? Is it Italian?"

"No. San Francisco seafaring, as a matter of fact."

"Weird. Must be another of her crazy volunteer groups. Hmm, here's a receipt from Juliette's. It's a boutique that Serefina loves-they carry a lot of plus sizes, but don't mark them that way. Very clever marketing. Serefina is convinced she's a ten, and has no idea why she doesn't fit in that size at other stores."

"I think I should start shopping there," Connie said.

"You pay a price for that deception," Angie said. "You'd have to sell a lot of teacups, believe me."

"In that case, I'll keep going to sales at Macy's and cutting off the size labels."

"Ah, thank G.o.d!" Angie held up another receipt. "She isn't buying my cake from Diamond Pastry. Looks like she's going to Victoria's. Great! Their Italian rum cake is my favorite. I hope that's what she's ordered. To think I once actually worried about a purple cake. How silly was that?"

"Purple cake? Or do you mean purple cow? Wasn't there some kind of nursery rhyme about one? You should start boning up on them, since the way Stan is acting, I think Hannah and Kaitlyn will be next door for quite a long time."

"You may be right, I-"

Angie stopped talking. She heard a noise.

"My G.o.d," she whispered. "They're back! You were supposed to be watching!"

"I can't do everything!" Connie wailed, papers in hand. "Anyway, it's not as if your parents will call the cops on you."

"No, I'll just hurt my mother's feelings so much she won't talk to me and my engagement party will be ruined!" Angie wrung her hands. "We've got to hide."

"Hide?" Connie looked around.

"Come on." They darted down the hall. In the kitchen, they'd almost reached the back door when they heard a key in the lock. Angie did an about-face and ran into Connie. "They're coming in the back way!" she cried, pushing Connie into the hall.

"But we heard them..." Connie pointed toward the front of the house.

They stood in the hall. Connie was right, hadn't they just heard someone in the living room? "This way." Angie pulled her into the dining room. There was a swinging door between the dining room and the kitchen.

Angie slowly pushed it open, hoping the kitchen was empty. The door suddenly stopped moving. Odd. She was trying to figure out what had happened to it when the door began opening on its own, and toward her.

She and Connie backpedaled, eyes glued to the self-propelled door.

Suddenly it opened all the way and a strange blond woman dressed in black walked into the dining room.

Angie and the stranger gaped at each other. The blonde jumped back into the kitchen.

Connie ran in the other direction.

Angie stood there, not knowing what was going on when the kitchen door swung open again.

Angie grabbed a candlestick to protect herself, but this time Connie stuck her head into the dining room. "Come on. Let's get out of here!"

"Isn't the woman in the kitchen?" Angie asked, confused.

"You mean the maid?"

"She's not the maid! I've never seen her before in my life," Angie cried. "What was she doing in my parents' home?"

"Maybe she's a friend. They're home, right?"

Angie blanched. "Right. And they might find us! Hurry!"

The two darted out the back door and crouched down behind a vine-covered pergola while Angie caught her breath. Come to think of it, it was odd that she hadn't heard her mother talking. Serefina talked nonstop when she was in the house, even when alone.

"Something's very wrong here," Angie said, worried.

"You're right. Let's go home," Connie suggested.

"I mean something's really wrong."

"What can you do?" Connie asked. "No, don't answer that!"

They slowly crept away from the house. "Okay, first things first," Angie said, bending forward so her head wouldn't show above the shrubbery. She grabbed Connie's shoulder and pulled her down as well. "You put the papers you were holding back on top of the cabinet, didn't you?"

Connie, bent over, said, "Well..."

"Are you telling me you didn't put the papers back where you got them?" Angie's tone had climbed so high she was lucky the neighbor's dog didn't bark.

"You said to hurry!" Connie cried, now irritated as well as uncomfortable.

"I said I didn't want to be caught!" It was hair-clutching time. "Now she'll know we were looking at her stuff."

"Maybe she'll think someone else did it." Connie tried to sound reasonable. "Like the blonde. Let's go. My back hurts!"

"We can't go! We've got to go inside and put the papers where they belong."

"I want to leave," Connie wailed. "I know this is your parents' home, but I don't like this."

"You're such a moan artist!" Angie was beside herself.

"Moan artist! Well, excuse me for living! I'm dragged here to help you and don't complain one little bit, and you-"

"Stop!" Angie clutched Connie's arm as they stooped behind some hibiscus bushes. "I saw someone moving back in those bushes."

"How can you see anything? We're facing the ground!"

"I wonder if my mother is out here sneaking around for some reason, and that's why we didn't hear her in the house."

"Why would she be hiding in her own garden?" Connie sounded as if Angie had taken leave of her senses.

"I don't know, except that she's got to be furious with my father. She was already upset with him about something, and I know she was looking forward to this ballet. Now, if he made her come home, and some strange woman's lurking around the house..."

"Wouldn't she just go alone?" Connie asked. "It wouldn't be the first time, from what you've said. And if I end up hunchbacked because of this, I'm never going to forgive you!"

"Go alone? While my father returns home to meet some woman? Is that what you're suggesting?" Angie asked hotly as she began to sneak from bush to tree, making her way toward the side of the house where she'd seen the movement.

"I'm not suggesting anything. I meant I want to straighten up."

"No!" When they got closer, Angie saw the blonde again, pointing a telephoto lens camera at the house and taking pictures. Angie looked toward the window. The interior lights were on, and she could see right into the library at her father.

Outraged, Angie snuck closer to the woman, and once near, reared up and sprang from the bushes. "What the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing?" she cried, and yanked the camera away.

"How dare you!" the woman shrieked, and pulled on the camera's straps, which she hadn't let go of. She nearly yanked Angie off her feet, but Angie hung on tight.

"What are you doing, taking pictures of my father?" she yelled. "Who are you?"

"Mind your own business, you spoiled brat!" The woman raised her hand and swung. Angie raised her arm in time to protect her face from the slap.

Her arm hurt from the blow. It hurt badly, in fact. She couldn't believe anyone would do such a thing to her, especially not this Peeping Tomasina. Fury rose, the world went red, and she launched herself at the woman, knocking her flat on her back.

The woman grabbed Angie's hair, and Angie grabbed hers, both shrieking and kicking. They started rolling in the dirt.

Connie screamed, hopped about, and tried to get close enough to pull the woman off Angie, but whenever she'd get close, she had to jump out of the way or risk being kicked, gouged, or slapped herself. In desperation she ran toward the house. "Mr. Amalfi! Sal! Help!"

From around the side came not Sal, but Paavo. He stared at Connie with surprise and horror.

"It's Angie," she cried, and pointed toward the part of the garden where no people were seen, only puffs of dirt rising above the bushes.

Paavo ran toward the yelps and squawks. Not far behind him was Salvatore.

Paavo lifted Angie up by the waist and swung her away from Elizabeth Schull. Schull looked at him, then got up and started to run. He set Angie on her feet and took off after Schull, catching up with her after only a few steps.

Angie was fuming and started after Paavo when her father grabbed her arm. "Don't," he said.

"What's going on?" she cried. "She was in the house! When she saw me she left, and now she's taking pictures."

He shrugged. "Must be a burglar casing the place. Paavo will take care of her." He picked up the woman's camera. "This is probably evidence of what she's been up to."

Angie noticed that Paavo had kept going.

"Where's he taking her?"

"Jail, I suppose," Sal said.

"I'm going to go see."

Sal's grip tightened. "No, you're not. Come inside. Let's get you cleaned up."

"But-"

"You don't want Paavo to see his bride-to-be looking like a female mud wrestler, do you?"

They turned toward the house. "You're lucky you don't have a black eye or something," Connie said, walking beside Angie. "You two were really going at it."

Visions of appearing at her party in her beautiful dress, her hair perfect and her eye multiple shades of blue, black, green, and purple, made Angie shudder. "Don't even talk about such a thing," she said, furious to discover a broken fingernail.

Paavo came back alone after Angie had washed her face and hands and brushed the twigs, leaves, and weeds from her hair and clothes. She and Connie were sitting in the Italian provincial living room with Sal, sipping brandy and sodas.

"That was fast," Angie said to Paavo. She stood as he entered. "Don't tell me you let her go?"

He held her shoulders, checking her face and making sure she was all right before giving her a quick kiss and hug. Sal's black eyes bored into his back the whole time. "A patrol car arrived. They've got her. I wanted to be sure you're okay."

"I can hold my own," Angie announced, chin up, her arms around his waist.

"That, I already knew," Paavo said with a smile, starting to draw her close again when he heard Sal's voice.

"Here's film from her camera." Sal held the roll out for Paavo.

"Thanks." He put it in his pocket.

"All right, you two." Angie's pointed gaze went from one man to the other. "What's going on? Where's Mamma?"

"Your mother went to the ballet," Sal said, then met Paavo's eye as he said, "I felt sick and had her turn around and drop me off back home. Then Paavo showed up looking for you."

Paavo nodded to Sal before facing Angie. "That's right. I have the evening off."

"But I didn't tell you I was coming here," Angie said.

"I must have just guessed it," he answered.

She turned to her father. "Who was the woman? It wasn't just chance that she was lurking around."

Sal was all wide-eyed innocence. "No? Seems like chance to me. I have no idea why any woman would want to do that. Or maybe it's that I'm still such a handsome old coot. Did she say anything to you about why she was out there, Paavo?"

He faced Angie. "She refused to say a word to me just now," he answered honestly.

Just then, Serefina appeared in the doorway. "Che fai?" she cried. "There were cops outside my house and your Stonestown manager was sitting in a patrol car crying. As I watched, they drove off. I'm tired of you keeping me in the dark about whatever's going on, Salvatore. You tell me right now why you've been acting so strangely." She shook her finger at Paavo. "And don't think I'm letting you off the hook. I want to find out what's going on from you, too. But first, it's Sal's turn."

"It's nothing, Serefina. Niente."

"Sal," Paavo said sternly, then nothing more.

Sal's gaze darted from Paavo, to Angie, Connie, and then Serefina. "It's the truth!" he cried.

"You know you're the worst liar in tutto il mondo!" Serefina screeched. "Now tell me what this is about, or I'll go find Elizabeth and ask her! This doesn't have anything to do with the fact that she's got her eye on you, does it?"

"What?" Sal gaped.

"She's got her eye on you," Serefina repeated. "That's it, isn't it? Don't tell me she did something stupid! I know she's a little bit"-she tapped her temple-"pazzo, but I didn't think she'd cause trouble. Is that it? Is that why Paavo is here?"