The Focaccia Fatality by J. M. Griffin Read Free Book Online Page B

gazed off in the distance where the bay teamed with activity. Street traffic hummed in the background, and a cold December wind blew in off the water. I leaned forward, held my face in my hands, and had a good cry. After my tears ceased their flow, I wiped my face with my apron and wished I had a tissue.
    The park lay barren in all its faded glory. Tall sea grass had turned a wheat color and bowed to the constant wind. Patches of grass, some greenish, the rest mostly brown, crunched under my feet as I strolled back and forth for a brief time. I glanced at my watch and realized I had to return to work.
    It was also time to face Seanmhair.
    The walk back was filled with thoughts. So many, in fact, that I never heard the car pull up next to me. A door slammed and footsteps echoed on the pavement. I glanced over my shoulder to see Vincent Gallagher approach. His face filled with fury, his eyes might have been made of stone, they were so cold and hard. I shivered, stopped walking, and faced him.
    “Your trays are in my trunk. My wife is very upset and I didn’t want you to return to my home. You just had to report the incident to the police, didn’t you?” he raged.
    “Her body was found floating in the river. I identified her, that’s it. What’s your problem, Mr. Gallagher?” My temper was on the rise. I held my breath, counted, and only reached five. “A young woman is dead, through no fault of mine. Furthermore, she was killed at your house. Don’t you feel any sympathy for her or is this just an inconvenience for you?”
    “Don’t be ridiculous, of course I’m sorry that she’s dead.” Gallagher stomped toward the trunk of his car that automatically opened. He took my trays from it and shoved them into my hands. “You’ll never get any work in this city again, Melina. I promise you that,” Gallagher ground out as I tightened my hold on the ware.
    No sense in arguing, the man could wield enough power to sink a ship before it reached port, so why bother? My business was a drop in the bucket compared to what he dealt with on a regular basis. His vicious attitude wasn’t lost on me and dread filled my steps as I hurried away from him. If my nerves hadn’t been rattled before, they definitely were now.
    From the wide front windows of the shop, Seanmhair saw me stride up to the front door. She came round the counter and let me in, her face filled with surprise.
    “Where did those come from?” she asked.
    “Mr. Gallagher just returned them to me with a warning of dire things to come. Is this a bad dream, or what?” I asked as I set the serving ware on the nearest worktable. They hadn’t been washed or even wiped clean. I grimaced, then shoved them into the dishwasher and pushed the start button.
    A concerned look in her eyes, Seanmhair asked, “What sort of dire warnings? He didn’t out and out threaten you, did he, Melina?”
    I shrugged. “Not in so many words. He assured me, though, that I’d never get any other work in Providence. He’s a man with enough influence to make or break a person. It just angers me to no end, Sean. I did nothing wrong.”
    She patted my shoulder as tears threatened to flow again. “Melina, you’ve had a long day and night. You go catch a nap. Samantha will be in shortly to watch the store and handle anything that comes up.”
    I sniffled, nodded, and untied my apron. After I’d set some food for my upstairs apartment on my stairs, I glanced out the kitchen window and saw BettyJo beckoning me. With a deep breath, I glanced back at Seanmhair, to find she’d gone into the shop front. Soundlessly, I tiptoed out the back door and met BettyJo.
    “What are you doing out here? Why didn’t you come in?” I asked softly.
    She leaned close and said, “I didn’t want to interrupt you and Seanmhair. Come over, I need to talk to you.”
    Curious, I followed BettyJo into her reading room. All was quiet. The crystal ball BettyJo used as an accessory glowed eerily on the table. Its