Chapter 12
Charlie
I ’m in the produce section when my phone dings. I pull up the text. It’s from Wizard.
Calabria, Sardinia.
Can I bring anything?
??
Just your smiley face.
Oh, and patience.
The girls had a rough night.
Now I want a cool signature emoji
CC
That’s an easy one
??
??
I blush to my roots. I can’t believe he thinks I’m hot. I mean, I’m the mother of teenage triplets. I have stretch marks. My boobs will never be the same. And I wouldn’t change a thing.
Thank you
??
??
See you later
??
Thanks to a school project their seventh-grade year, I know a few recipes from each region. The Academy teaches foreign languages starting in first grade. The students will learn common words in Spanish and French.
Starting in the fifth grade, each student could pick an additional language. The girls chose Italian. We speak it frequently at home. I also speak fluent Spanish, and French. It pays to understand what you're overhearing when you eavesdrop.
I’m making licurdia, a Calabrian onion soup, and culurgiones with gravy from Sardinia. I make my way to the red onions, selecting several before I head off for starchy potatoes. From there, I pick up more garlic. You can never have enough, right? I have three dozen bulbs in the oven, slow roasting. The timer I used will shut the oven off in an hour. Ma should be up before then to start the gravy. We’ll use plain gravy for multiple recipes today.
As I’m filling one of my reusable produce bags with elephant garlic, a shadow falls over my shoulder. I turn to see a tall man in a suit. I put him at an inch over six feet. The suit, an Italian designer one, is worth more than my minivan.
“Can I help you?” I ask, taking a step back.
“No need to worry. I mean you no harm.”
“Who says I’m worried? I don’t like people in my personal space without invitation.”
He smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Those are cold and calculating.
“Are you Charlie Caruso?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I draw myself up to my full height and harden my eyes.
“Who are you?”
His posture changes. He puffs out his chest.
“I’m Tyler Edwin Barnes, the second. Governor of Indiana.”
He holds out his hand. I ignore it. He looks offended and clears his throat.
“Yes, well. I’m looking for Detective Charlie Caruso. I need my son found.”
“The case I’m currently working is full-time.”
“I’ll triple your normal pay. I’m worried about my son. He’s acting odd and not responding to my texts.”
“Thank you for the offer, but I don’t believe in leaving a job until it’s complete.”
He reaches into his inner jacket pocket and pulls out a card, handing it to me.
“If you change your mind.”
“Why me?”
“You have the best reputation in the area. And your husband gave you glowing reviews.”
We sail right past the red flags and go straight to defcon-4. I politely take the card.
“That’s nice,” I say through gritted teeth. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to finish shopping for Sunday dinner.”
I head straight for the meat counter. I’ll finish produce later when Mr. Creepy Dude is long gone. An hour later, I’m gratefully pulling into the driveway. The door opens and Francesca and Lucia hurry out to help me unload.
“Nonna has the gravy started,” Lucia sings.
“Can I make dessert?” Francesca asks.
“Yes, you may. Do you know what you're making?”
We talk as we unload the groceries.
“Torta setteveli or torta de nonna.”
“Or we could do one of each since we have company,” I suggest.
By this time, we’ve made it to the kitchen. Valentina is stirring the gravy while Pops is making the meatballs. Ma has her hands in a batch of dough.
“Pasta or bread Ma?”
“Ravioli. You’re doing the filling.”
“Who's coming for dinner?” Lucia asks.
“Hollywood and his two kids,” Pops says.
“And Wizard,” I add.
“Wizard’s coming? Valentina asks
“He is.”
“He looks Italian,” Ma says. “Is he?”
“He is Calabrian/Sardinian.”
“Can we make licurdia for him?” Valentina asks.
“We can, I have the ingredients in the bag.”