Bananas Foster and a Dead Mobster Page 16

  "I bet I'm younger than you," I bite back.

  "Maybe on paper." She chuckles, looking me up and down. "But it doesn't make up for a sloppy presentation."

  "You did not just say that." I lower my voice, aiming my best death glare at her.

  "Being poised is a talent that not everyone can acquire," Georgina says as she shifts one hip to the side.

  Chef Otto and Susu watch us in awe.

  "Talk to me again when you've had a gun waved around in your face."

  * * *

  "For now, I'd like you to stay here with Georgina." Detective Reid checks the hall closet for the second time. "Leo Bianco can't be far, and he knows where you live. We haven't been able to confirm that he's left the area."

  "One night is all I can muster." I glance at Georgina who is chatting with another officer. In the sparse moments that we managed to quit arguing, I called the detective directly. He has every officer in the county searching for Leo. It's sort of a comforting thought but not one that will help me sleep tonight.

  "I'm confident that we'll catch him this time."

  "What about Bree?" I ask.

  "I'll send an officer to keep watch at your apartment as well as here," he responds. "As long as you stay put, Leo won't be able to get to you." He studies my expression. "Did you hear what I said, Poppy? I said stay put."

  "I heard you." I sit on Georgina's couch and take a deep breath. My eyes feel heavy, and I end up leaning back and watching as Detective Reid talks with Chef Otto. Otto scratches behind Susu's ears and relays all the information he can about Leo Bianco including his not-so-brilliant attempt to follow him when he spotted the black Cadillac in front of Ward's Hardware Store. That plan backfired.

  I close my eyes for a few minutes, letting my mind clear as best as it can. I open an eye just as Detective Reid is stepping outside. My eyes close again. It feels like seconds have passed, but when I open my eyes for the third time the room is dark except for a faint light coming from the kitchen. I get up slowly, stretching my limbs and sore back. I must've fallen asleep, and Georgina didn't bother to wake me. I contemplate lying back down on the couch until morning, but my thoughts are interrupted by the sound of whispers.

  I pause and listen.

  Georgina is in the kitchen, and she's upset about something. Another voice responds. At first, I make the assumption that the second person must be Ingrid, Georgina's former nanny slash housekeeper. She's the only other person who lives here.

  But the voice that whispers back sounds like a man.

  Otto.

  I walk toward the kitchen. I don't know how I'm supposed to get any sleep with the two of them talking all night. Besides, what do the two of them have to talk about? Georgina's made it pretty clear she wants nothing to do with Chef Otto anymore.

  "Hey, can you keep it down? I'm trying to—"

  "Poppy," Georgina blurts out—her eyes as wide as two peach pies. She gulps, taking a step away from the man in the room. It is not Chef Otto. My chest tightens as I study the smirk on Leo Bianco's face. He's wearing a new collared shirt, and there's a bulge on his shoulder from a thick bandage.

  "Call the police!" I shout, grabbing Georgina's hand. She doesn't run like I expect her to. Instead, she stays rooted in the kitchen facing the man who wants to kill me and now probably her. "Don't just stand there."

  "She's not going anywhere." Leo chuckles and casually sits at the kitchen table. "And now that you're awake, we don't have to whisper."

  "What?" My eyes dart from the front door to the kitchen window. Both appear to be intact. "How did you get in here?"

  "Haven't you figured it out by now, Poppy?" Leo scans the table and counters for something to eat…or maybe he's looking for a weapon of sorts. "Georgina let me in."

  My head turns toward Georgina. She stares down at the kitchen floor, crossing her arms over her nightgown. I shake my head. Why would Georgina let him in? Why would she open the door to the man who is responsible for Karl's death and who knows how many others. Why would she let in the man who wants me dead?

  "I don't understand," I respond. Georgina takes a deep breath but doesn't say anything. "Georgina?" I nudge her shoulder, hoping she'll talk. "Georgina!"

  "I had to, okay," she finally answers. Her cheeks are scarlet, and the rest of her skin is chalky.

  "Don't be stupid."

  "I'm serious," she replies, glaring at me.

  "Why?"

  Leo chuckles even louder. He leans back in his seat and makes himself more comfortable. He seems all too confident that neither of us will be calling the police any time soon. He brushes the top of his shoulder.

  "You might as well tell her," Leo instructs. Georgina narrows her eyes, looking at him the way she looks at me sometimes when she's frustrated.

  "I told you I haven't decided yet," Georgina mutters back.

  "This isn't a choice, my dear." Leo clears his throat and pauses.

  "Fine," Georgina says through her teeth. "I'll go, but I want you out of here. Got it?"

  "I'll leave when—"

  "You'll leave now," she commands him. Her sudden outburst pleases Leo rather than upsets him. He grins, nodding at her like a proud parent.

  "You speak with great force." He compliments her. "Your father carries that same trait."

  "Father?" I question. My suspicions suddenly become clear. The article in Gino Milani's date book. The address of the old adoption agency. Vito Bianco on his deathbed and the mob scoping out Calle Pastry Academy. The long lost child of Vito "More Dough" Bianco really isn't Chef Otto.

  It's Georgina.

  I place a hand on my racing heart.

  "That's right," Leo confirms. "And she should be proud."

  "You're adopted?" I ask.

  Georgina nods.

  "My mother gave me up when I was a baby, and then she died in a fire," she admits. Her voice is soft and solemn.

  "The adoption agency closed down a long time ago," Leo continues. "But we've been searching for her for years. Her mother betrayed us all, but the boss still wants to meet her before he dies." He looks at Georgina. "Their relationship was a tornado of chaos, but he did love your mother."

  "How long have you known?" I ask her.

  "I knew my biological mother was dead, but I didn't know who my father was," Georgina answers. "Not until New Orleans."

  "After a few failed attempts to make contact here in Georgia, you brought her to us, Poppy. I suppose I should thank you for that." Leo shrugs.

  "You're going to thank me and then kill me?" I gulp.

  "It's the way these things go sometimes," Leo responds.

  "Why didn't you say anything?" I study the look on Georgina's face, trying to determine if what she's saying is genuine.

  "Would you?"

  "I don't know," I confess. I think back to when this all started—the morning of the farmers' market. "So Gino was in town—"

  "Observing me," Georgina finishes. My mind flashes back to the things Cole and I found in Gino's apartment. One of them was a pair of binoculars.

  Gino would've made contact with Georgina that same day if he hadn't been killed. I clutch my sides, short of breath. Who else could've known why Gino was here? Georgina has to be lying, and she has to be the killer. If Georgina wants nothing to do with her mafia inheritance then the secret would've died with Gino Milani. But then Leo was sent to finish the job.

  Is Georgina the killer I've been searching for?

  The one who stole my chef's knife and set me up?

  "Poppy," Georgina comments, "you don't look so good."

  "Of course not." Leo chuckles. "The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

  "Georgina," I say. "How could you?" My stomach feels sour just thinking about all the time we've spent together. Our moment of mutual understanding back at Cakeville. She's a better liar than I gave her credit for. The greatest liar of them all.

  Now I'm dead for sure.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  "I can't believe this," I say ou
t loud. I glare at Georgina until she looks me in the eyes. She runs her fingers through her blonde locks with a puzzled look on her face. "And since you're probably going to murder me too, let me just say how completely disgusted I am…" I look from her to Leo. Or should I now refer to him as "Uncle" Leo? "…with the both of you."

  "What are you talking about?" Georgina responds.

  "She thinks you killed Gino," Leo answers, understanding my frustration.

  "Seriously?" She smirks. "You think I took your knife at the farmers' market and murdered a guy who's basically family?" I shrug. "You don't know me at all."

  "Then who did?" I look to Leo for more information. Georgina stares at him for a minute and then rolls her eyes.

  "Oh, Leo." She shakes her head. "Don't tell me it was you all along? Why?"

  "It wasn't me," Leo replies. "I assure you, my dear. Gino and I were good friends. I've killed in the past, but Gino Milani was not one of my targets. I was never ordered to do such a thing."

  "Then who was it?" I go on. "Who could've known what Gino was up to, stolen my chef's knife, and then done the deed without anyone noticing?"

  The floor creaks in the hallway, and the three of us look at each other.

  There is someone who could've done those things.

  Someone who sees everything and walks the halls unnoticed.

  "I think I just answered my own question," I say quietly. Leo stands up and moves toward the living room. My hands tremble as I watch him glance down the hallway and turn on the light. The shadows in the corner of the room disappear, and the living room and hallway remain empty. Georgina pulls me aside, keeping an eye on Leo.

  "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" she whispers.

  "It all makes sense."

  "No," Georgina responds. "No. No way. Ingrid would never do that."

  "You said yourself that she has a talent for cleaning a room without anyone noticing."

  "But then that would mean…" Georgina glances down at her bare feet.

  "Yeah," I respond quietly. "She knows who your real father is, which means your parents do too."

  "No—"

  Georgina and I are interrupted by a loud howl. Leo stumbles toward the door, but a petite (yet strong) hand is gripping his injured shoulder. A kitchen knife is pressed to his throat, but this time it doesn't belong to me. It belongs to the set of knives in Georgina's kitchen. Behind Leo is an older woman with dark hair and wide, sinister eyes.

  "I should've done this in Louisiana," Ingrid comments in a raspy voice. Georgina's jaw hangs open, and her complexion looks like confectioner's sugar.

  "Ingrid," Georgina finally yells. "What are you doing? Stop that!"

  "Georgina honey, this man is absolute filth." She tightens her grip on the knife. Leo grimaces as she purposely pushes down on his shoulder to keep him from maneuvering free from her hold. They are both small people, but I have no doubt that Leo can eventually turn the tables. Leo glances down at his belt where a handgun rests on his hip.

  "Then we'll call the police," Georgina pleads.

  "Police don't do justice to men like these." Ingrid clenches her jaw, glaring at her victim like he's nothing more than a birthday cake waiting to be sliced into. My heart pounds, and my muscles feel frozen. I don't know what to do. Run. Scream. Turn my head.

  "Ingrid, you'll be put in prison." Georgina holds up her hands in an attempt to show her housekeeper that she means no harm.

  "I'm headed there anyway for what I did to the first one of these slimeballs that rolled into town," Ingrid responds.

  "So you did steal my knife," I say quietly.

  "And I would've gotten away with it too if you weren't so chummy with the detective," Ingrid sneers. "I took it from your bag the evening before the farmers' market when you came over to practice fondant bows. It was easy." Leo moves slightly, and she immediately digs her fingers deeper into his shoulder. Leo winces from the pain.

  "Ingrid, put the knife down." Georgina takes a step toward her.

  "Georgina honey, this man isn't your family." Ingrid makes eye contact with Georgina just as a tear rolls down her cheek. "I am your family. Your parents are your family. We've worked so hard to keep you from this awful fate."

  "So you all knew?" Georgina stops and crosses her arms. "You, Mom, and Daddy all knew who my real father was?"

  "They found out years after they adopted you," Ingrid confesses. "That's when your father put the agency out of business and destroyed all of your adoption papers."

  "And my biological mother?" Georgina sniffles.

  "She was already gone by then." Another tear rolls down her cheek. "I'm sorry."

  "I can't believe this," Georgina mutters, staring down at the floor.

  "You are a Bianco by blood," Leo adds. "The many talents of your father run through your veins. Don't forget that."

  "She's not going anywhere with you," Ingrid practically growls. She digs her fingers even further into Leo's shoulder wound until he cries out in agony. "She belongs to the Levens family, and she has a bright future ahead of her. One that I will not let you delinquent bunch of criminals ruin!"

  "Ingrid, put the knife down." Georgina walks forward again. Her voice is steady, and she looks at her former nanny sternly. She raises her eyebrows and takes another step. "Please, Ingrid. This rug is brand new, and blood stains are impossible to clean."

  Leo chuckles.

  "We'll buy a new one," she suggests, keeping a firm hold on Leo.

  "I mean it, Ingrid." Georgina raises her voice. "No one is being murdered here today. Not if I can help it."

  "Just like her father," Leo mutters.

  A look of disgust crosses Ingrid's face. Her eyes are wild with disdain, and she focuses on her target.

  "Ingrid," Georgina says even louder. "Let the police handle him."

  "I'm already in too deep, honey," Ingrid replies.

  Georgina rubs her forehead. Ingrid seems to have already made up her mind. She is going to finish the job she started the second she arrived in Georgia—keeping Georgina from her dirty heritage. I gulp, glancing at the front door.

  I could run.

  I could run out of the apartment right now and not be a part of this. I feel like I'm back in Paris watching Detective Casey hanging from the balcony at the Palais Garnier. I don't know who to root for or who to save. I despise Leo Bianco for what he did to Karl and the pain he caused Bree. I'm also shocked that Ingrid resorted to murder…and with my chef's knife. Maybe the two of them should duel it out between themselves?

  I don't want to be here for that.

  "It's never too late," Georgina goes on. A look of disappointment is still spread across her face, but her voice softens. She must be torn inside like I am. "Let him go, and we'll figure this out."

  "I can't," Ingrid barks back, her eyes welling up with tears. The wrinkles on her forehead become more prominent as she fights to keep her composure. "I can't let you go with him. I raised you. I raised you to be a Levens, not a Bianco!"

  "I appreciate all that you've done for me, Ingrid." Georgina focuses on her and only her. "I'm sorry that I haven't said that enough. You've helped me through some difficult times. When I almost failed the fifth grade. Getting a date for prom. Mom's drinking problem. Now, let me help you."

  "You can't help me." Ingrid braces herself for what she's about to do next. Leo glances down at his belt again, still grimacing from the pain in his shoulder. "Not anymore."

  "What if I promise never to contact my biological family," Georgina quickly blurts out.

  "Never?" Ingrid repeats.

  "Never," Georgina promises. She glances at Leo. He takes a deep breath and doesn't say anything. Ingrid pauses for a moment and processes Georgina's request. She slowly lowers her knife and takes a step back, loosening her hold on Leo's shoulder. The look in Leo's eyes flickers. My eyes widen, and I bolt for the door just as he reaches down for the weapon hiding on his hip.

  "Get back here!" Leo shouts after me. I brace
myself for the loud pop of a gunshot to pierce the sky. The night air is warm and humid. Street lamps in the distance illuminate the path in front of me. I have to get out of here!

  There's screaming behind me.

  I can't tell from whom. Ingrid? Leo? Georgina?

  All I know is I need to get help, and I need to get out of here before Leo decides to kill all witnesses minus his new mafia princess. I don't have to run very far before my road to freedom is blocked by a familiar figure with rolled up sleeves and bags under his eyes. Detective Reid sees me as his cue to move in. He runs past me and into Georgina's apartment. A team of officers follows him. Some of them take positions on both sides of the door as if they've rehearsed this countless times.

  "Put the gun down!" Detective Reid enters the room to find Leo with his gun pointed at Ingrid. I stop just behind him, terrified that Leo might take his chances and shoot Ingrid anyway. Georgina's face turns bright red as she looks from Ingrid to Leo. She shifts uncomfortably from side to side and rubs the side of her cheek. "I'll say this one more time, Leo. Put the gun down!" Detective Reid practically screams at him. His voice booms through the room—loud enough to wake the entire complex.

  "Or you'll what?" Leo taunts him. "You've got nothin' on me."

  "I've got plenty on you, Leo," he informs him. "I've been waiting for you all night."

  "I'll never confess to a single thing." Leo chuckles. He thinks he's untouchable.

  "That's all right, Leo." Detective Reid takes a step closer. "Your gun will do all the talking once I send it to forensics."

  Leo frowns, looking from Detective Reid to Ingrid. Georgina continues to rub the side of her face. The color of her cheeks hasn't changed. She blinks a few times before her legs start to wobble. She grabs the side of her nightgown and collapses to the floor. Her blonde hair flying in a mess of curls over her face. Ingrid immediately rushes to her aid, and Leo lowers his gun.

  "She's okay," Ingrid says, out of breath. "Just fainted from all the stress."

  Detective Reid seizes his opportunity to snatch Leo's gun and force his hands behind his back. Without his gun, Leo is powerless to stop him. Detective Reid is younger, quicker, and much larger. He towers over Leo's thin frame. When Leo is handcuffed, I run to Georgina who is unconscious on the floor.