Think Twice Page 16

  “Pardon me?” Bennie asked, confused, and Fiorella pointed at her with a red-lacquered index finger.

  “You are evil, Benedetta.”

  Judy gasped, and Mary’s career flashed before her eyes. She grabbed Fiorella’s arm, but the older woman swatted her away.

  “You are a woman of great power,” Fiorella said, her words heavy with theatrical portent. “But my power is greater than yours. My power comes from God. Yours comes from the Devil!”

  “No, please!” Mary yanked Fiorella backwards, and so did her horrified mother and father.

  “Per favore, no, Fiorella, per favore, Oh Deo, no!”

  “FIORELLA, ARE YOU NUTS?”

  “I curse you, Benedetta Rosato!” Fiorella shook her fist in the air, even with three of them dragging her backwards.

  “Sorry, she thinks she’s a witch queen,” Judy explained, then she piled on Fiorella, who struggled against all of them.

  “I curse you, Benedetta! I will defeat you! I will! You are no match for my power! I am the queen, not you!”

  “Oh, Deo!” her mother exclaimed, then prayed in rapid Italian. “FIORELLA, YOU CAN’T PUT A CURSE ON A LAWYER! THEY SUE YOU!”

  Mary clapped her hand over Fiorella’s mouth, and they all carried her into the reception area past Marshall, who pushed the elevator button.

  “Mary, where do you get these people?” she asked, incredulous.

  “Where else? They’re family.”

  Ping! went the elevator, and they all hustled inside.

  Chapter Sixty-two

  Bennie shifted in the backseat as the cab turned onto her street. They pulled up in front of her house, and the cabbie finally closed his cell phone. He’d yammered away the entire ride to the city, but she’d been too preoccupied to care. She couldn’t wait to take a quick shower, change out of her absurd get-up, and go find Alice.

  “I’ll run inside and get my money,” she said. They’d agreed on a fare of $300, and she had the cash in her jewelry box.

  “Don’t know how you people live here, on top of each other.” The cabbie braked, and the engine shuddered into silence.

  She got out of the cab and went to her neighbors, the Mackeys, to get her extra keys. She didn’t know how she’d explain to them her cuts, bruises, or tarty outfit, but no matter. She walked up their stoop, rang the bell with her splinted finger, and waited, but no answer. She rang again, but still no answer. Maybe Mary had already picked up the keys, anyway.

  She climbed down the steps, went to her own house, and tried the front door. Bear knew her step, and she waited for him to start barking, but he didn’t. That must mean that Mary had taken him to work with her, so she went back to the cab, where the driver was getting out of the front seat.

  “Miss, is there a problem?” he asked, worried.

  “I need to call my office to get my keys. Can I use your phone?”

  “I ran out of battery when we hit the city.”

  “Wait here. I have another idea.” Bennie went down the street and to an alley that ran behind the row houses on the block, including hers. She knew she had an old window to the basement, and she could bust it to get in. The alley was narrow, flanked on either side by back fences, and the cobblestones that made up its floor dipped in the middle, collecting rainwater and moss.

  She walked to her own fence, a brick affair that contained her patio. She jumped up and tried to reach the top with her left hand, but she fell back, wincing in pain. Her right hand hurt, and her flip-flops had almost no purchase. She tried again, jumping higher, and made it the third time, flopping over the wide ledge. She was catching her breath when she heard someone shouting.

  “Hey, you!” A woman’s voice echoed across the backyards. “What do you think you’re doing? I’m calling the cops!”

  “Wait, no!” Bennie raised her head, but the motion threw her off-balance, sending her falling off the wall. She landed on the cobblestones, pain arcing through her skull. Her hand throbbed, and for a minute she thought it couldn’t get any worse, until the cabbie was standing over her, his hands on his hips.

  “You’re trying to beat me out of the fare! You think I’m dumb ’cause I’m country?”

  “No, wait,” Bennie started to say, getting up, and the cabbie yanked her to her feet by her arm.

  “I want my fare! This took up my whole day!”

  “Wait, listen, I have to get into my house. There’s a window—”

  “Hell, no! You’re not gettin’ away with this!” The cabbie tugged her through the alley, to the sound of nearby sirens.

  “Listen, I’m a lawyer, and we can straighten this all out.”

  “A lawyer? What a load of bullcrap! Is that why you dressed like that?”

  “I’m telling you, you’ll get your money.” Bennie looked down the street as a Philadelphia police cruiser shot toward them, its siren blaring and its lights flashing red. The cruiser cut the siren, and two uniformed officers emerged and hustled over. One was heavy and one was thin, and she flashed on Officers Villarreal and Dayne.

  “Officers,” Bennie began, “I live here, and as soon as I get in my house, I can pay this driver.”

  “Bullcrap!” the cabbie interjected. “She doesn’t live here. She’s not anything she says she is. I picked her up at the police station, and she’s trying to beat me out of the fare. You ever hear of a lawyer wears sequins?”

  “Both of you, relax.” The heavy cop raised his hand, then turned to Bennie. “You say you live here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which house is yours?”

  “That one, 2133.” Bennie pointed with her good hand. “If I can get in the back window, I can get his money.”

  “I understand.” The cop nodded. “Let’s see some ID, Miss.”

  “I don’t have any, on me.” Bennie considered telling him the story, but tabled it for now. “Look, if I had to, I could go to my law office, get the keys, come back, and let myself in. Maybe I should do that, instead.”

  The cabbie scoffed. “Don’t let her out of your sight, Officer! She’s a liar, plain and simple. If I told you what else I think she is, I wouldn’t be the gentleman I am. She owes me three hundred dollars!”

  “Three hundred?” The cop’s eyes widened under the bill of his cap. “Okay, I’ve heard enough. Let’s go downtown, folks.”

  Chapter Sixty-three

  “What was that?” Alice followed Grady into her office, uneasy. She felt shaken by Fiorella Whoever, but couldn’t let it show. Even though the curse was crazy, did that woman really know who she was? How? Alice didn’t need any more surprises. The money had already been transferred, and all she had to do was conduct business as usual, keeping a lid on any suspicions for just a few more hours.

  “I don’t know what that was. Something Italian, with a British accent?” Grady walked around her desk, sat down in her chair, then bent over and popped up with the yellow DHL envelope, to the Bahamian bank.

  Oh no! “I must’ve dropped that.” Alice reached for the envelope, but Grady was already reading the address.

  “BSB? What’s this, you representing them?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t know you were doing banking matters. That’s tricky, especially offshore. What’s the case?”

  “A small litigation matter. Contract dispute.”

  “Who’s your local counsel in Nassau? I’ve used Lawrence Bastone. He’s pretty good and he won’t undermine you with the client.”

  “I forget, I’m still freaked by Fiorella.” Alice had to get out of this conversation. She took the DHL envelope and set it aside. “You ever see anything like her?”

  “No, she was a natural force, like a volcano. Mount Etna. Vesuvius. Pompeii.”

  “Or merely delusional.”

  “On the contrary, I think she had your number.”

  Gulp.

  “You are evil.” Grady smiled, in a sexy way.

  “You got that right.” Alice kissed him, teasing him with her tongue. She
let her fingers slip to his thigh, then slide to his crotch. He’d forget about BSB bank if his blood went elsewhere. “I am evil, I just don’t look it. Nobody knows what I’m capable of, except you.”

  “Keep it that way.”

  “I will.” Alice pressed herself into his lap, feeling the hardness there. His hand moved to her breast, and she knew she was home free.

  Chapter Sixty-four

  Mary wondered how things could be so right and so wrong, in the very same day. She may have won her first motion as a partner, but the only restaurant open for lunch this early was Japanese and her parents never ate anything but Italian. The waiter served their sushi on a sampan, and the DiNunzios recoiled as if it were a garbage barge.

  “IT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE FISH TO ME, MARE.”

  Her mother, still in her topcoat, shrank from the table.

  “It is fish. It’s special fish.” Mary didn’t mention the uncooked part. She figured it wouldn’t help her argument.

  “Mr. D, try it!” Judy chirped, reaching for her chopsticks. “You’ll love sushi. It’s delicious!”

  “Ugh.” Fiorella turned up her Roman nose. “I dislike sushi.”

  “Really.” Mary couldn’t hold her tongue another minute. “Well, if we hadn’t had to flee my office, because somebody at the table screamed at my new partner, then we could have waited until noon and had eggplant parm, which we all love.”

  Fiorella didn’t reply.

  “FIORELLA, SHE’S RIGHT. YOU SHOULD SAY YOU’RE SORRY FOR WHAT YOU DID.”

  “Sì,” her mother said softly, and Fiorella turned to Mary.

  “I’m sorry. Let’s move on and forget this matter.”

  “Not so fast. I understand if you don’t like Bennie. My mother didn’t either, the first time she saw her.” Mary turned to her. “Remember, Ma? You called her evil, too.”

  Her mother nodded, chuckling. “Sì, sì, e vero. I no like Benedetta. She work Maria too hard. Alla time, work, work, work.”

  Mary smiled, turning back to Fiorella. “Bennie is really a good person. She taught me everything, and even though she didn’t make it easy on me, I’m a better lawyer for knowing her. I’m a better person for knowing her.”

  Fiorella sniffed. “You are naïve.”

  “You don’t know her. Or me.”

  “Perhaps we can agree to disagree.”

  “Fine,” Mary said, stiffly, and Judy picked up her water glass.

  “Now, for a toast to our girl Mary, who made partner today! Congratulations!”

  “CENT ANN’.” Her father raised his glass, and her mother did the same, smiling sweetly at her.

  “Cent ann’, Maria, te amo.”

  “I love you guys.” Mary raised her glass. She wasn’t about to let Fiorella ruin this day, for any of them. “Thank you all very much, for everything. This wouldn’t have happened without my wonderful family or my best friend.”

  “Brava!” Judy said, and they all took a sip.

  Mary looked over at her mother, who was shifting uncomfortably in her chair. It was on the small side, and with the bunchy coat, she was wedged inside its arms. “Ma, why don’t you take your coat off?”

  “No, is h’okay.”

  “You’ll feel better, don’t you think?”

  “Sì, Maria, h’okay.” Her mother stood up and shrugged off the coat, surprising all of them. She wasn’t wearing her usual flowered dress or the blue one she wore to Mass. Instead, she had on an obvious knockoff of Fiorella’s sexy black Armani. Unfortunately, she was shaped like a meatball, with breasts. She modeled the dress, flushing red, then sat down.

  “Ma!” Mary said, quickly. “Wow! You look so nice! Where did you get that dress?”

  “Grazie, Maria, I made.”

  “You did a great job!” Mary should have guessed as much. She looked over at her father and flared her eyes meaningfully.

  “YOU LOOK SO GOOD, VEET!”

  “Mrs. D, you’re awesome!” Judy grinned, and her mother smiled happily, which was reward enough for Mary.

  Nobody but Mary noticed that Fiorella said nothing.

  Chapter Sixty-five

  Bennie sat in her second interview room of the day, across from another set of odd-couple cops, the husky Officer Pete Mora, who took her statement on an IBM Selectric typewriter, and the gaunt Officer Kevin Vaz, who gazed at her from behind his aviator glasses.

  “So that’s it,” Bennie said, finishing her saga. If they thought she was crazy, they didn’t let it show. “They’re busy investigating the fire in Cambridge County, and your Deputy Johnson says you don’t have jurisdiction to help me find Alice Connelly.”

  “He’s correct. We don’t.”

  “Do you know Azzic and Holland?”

  “No, we’re just humble uniforms.” Officer Mora shifted forward. He was about thirty years old, with large brown eyes, a smooth chin, and a wide nose. His shoulders were broad, pulling at the seams of his summer uniform. “What about our friend the cabbie? That is our jurisdiction.”

  “I would have paid him when I got into my house. Do you know anybody on the job in Cambridge County?”

  “No, but given the fire, I’m sure the county will make it a priority.”

  “It’s a question of their effectiveness, not their will.”

  “I never second-guess other departments.” Officer Mora unrolled the statement from the typewriter. “Now, as for the cab driver, you say you can get the money and you’ll also produce proof that it was your house you were breaking into.”

  “I have a copy of my deed at the office and I can have it messengered here.” Bennie took a sip of vending-machine coffee, holding the cup with two hands. “The Cambridge County police said they put an APB out on my car, a Lexus, but can you check into that?”

  “I’ll do that for you.” Officer Vaz stood up wearily and stretched. He was the older of the two, with a graying mustache, but was trim as a marathoner, with lean limbs and a black runner’s watch that slid around on his wrist. “I gotta check the front desk, anyway. I’m expecting a message. My first grandchild.”

  Officer Mora nodded. “Don’t count on Mike to bring it to you. He’s back and forth to the can, on those meds again.”

  “They ain’t gonna help.” Officer Vaz’s gaze shifted to Bennie. “What kind of car did you say it was, again?”

  “Burgundy Lexus, last year. I don’t know the plate.”

  “Be right back.” Officer Vaz left, and Officer Mora handed her the statement, with a Bic ballpoint.

  “Your autograph, please.”

  “Sure, thanks.” Bennie read and scribbled her name on the statement, then handed it back to Officer Mora. He was stapling the papers together when the door opened and Officer Vaz stuck his head inside, motioning.

  “C’mere a sec, would you, Pete?”

  Mora turned. “You a grandpop yet?”

  “No, c’mere.”

  “Sure.” Officer Mora rose and left, and Bennie stood up, tugging down her shorts. She was almost glad the cops hadn’t recognized her because she’d never live it down. Her breasts were practically falling out of the glittery top, and she hadn’t waited around for the social worker to find her panties. Not only was she dressed like a hooker, she was undressed like one.

  Officers Mora and Vaz reentered, but something was wrong. Concern crossed Officer Mora’s eyes, and Officer Vaz’s ennui had vanished.

  “Why don’t you take a seat, Ms. Rosato?” Officer Mora retook his seat with a sheaf of new papers, while Officer Vaz stood in front of the door.

  “What’s the matter?” Bennie sat down, and her shorts rode up.

  “We have a few more questions.” Officer Mora held the papers in his hand, close to his chest. “Did you call a lawyer named Mary DiNunzio from a hospital in Pellesburg, in Cambridge County?”

  “Yes, why. How do you know that I called DiNunzio?”

  “Did you identify yourself to her as Bennie Rosato?”

  “Yes, of course, in the message I left for her
.” Bennie didn’t like the way this was going. She’d been in enough interviews to know when they turned into custodial interrogation. “Is there a problem?”

  “Ms. DiNunzio has filed a complaint against you, for criminal impersonation.”

  “What are you talking about? You must be mistaken.”

  “Here’s a copy, filed this morning.” Officer Mora glanced back at Officer Vaz, then handed over the papers, and Bennie read the complaint, incredulous. It was all there, the message she left for DiNunzio, as well as a sworn statement that the woman DiNunzio heard from was Alice Connelly.

  “This is crazy. It was me, not Alice.”

  “Ms. DiNunzio’s statement is that she worked with Ms. Rosato at the office on Saturday.”

  “I wasn’t at the office on Saturday. I was buried in a box in Cambridge County.”

  “Ms. DiNunzio says that Ms. Rosato—”

  “I’m Ms. Rosato. I’m Bennie Rosato.”

  “You’ll see a supporting statement there, filed later by Ms. Rosato.”

  “But I didn’t file anything,” Bennie said, but it was already beginning to dawn on her what was going on. She had assumed that Alice would run away, after trying to kill her. Instead, she was trying to take Bennie’s place. It was inconceivable.

  “See for yourself.” Officer Mora reached over, flipped to the back page, and pointed with a thick finger. “Here’s Ms. Rosato’s statement, saying that she worked with Mary DiNunzio, at the offices of Rosato & Associates, and that she didn’t call Mary DiNunzio on the evening in question.” Officer Mora looked up, his eyes cool. “You called this Mary DiNunzio, pretending to be Bennie Rosato. You also represented to us that you were Bennie Rosato. That’s criminal impersonation, Ms. Connelly.”

  “No, it isn’t. I’m Bennie Rosato. She’s the fraud. She’s impersonating me.”

  “Do you have someone we could call, to verify what you’re telling us?”

  “No.” Bennie flipped through the possibilities. Her closest friend, Sam Freminet, was in Hawaii on vacation. DiNunzio and Carrier had been fooled, and Lou was gone, too. None of her clients knew her personally.