Waffles at the Wake Read online

  Both Cat and Connie Canelli look up and wave.

  “Spider’s here!” Cat announces to the crowd. “Make room. We’ve got guests.”

  No sooner does she say the words than the three of us are seated to Cat’s left.

  Without thinking, I end up ensconced between Carlotta and Everett, leaving the women to Everett’s right free to paw and pet him, and believe me, about four brunettes have wasted no time in getting right down to it.

  Three seats down from him is Lorena, and next to her sits her bestie Donata and we all share amicable greetings.

  “So glad you’re here,” Connie says. “We were just picking out the duds for Flo’s big day.”

  Flo slaps her hands together and gives a little hop. “With Connie in charge, there might be hope for me yet.”

  “Here are the looks we’ve got planned.” Connie plucks a gold sequin gown from her lap and holds it up for us all to see.

  No sooner am I blinded by the glitzy accouterment than Flo lets out a deafening groan like only the dead can do.

  “There’s no way in hell she’s planting me in the ground looking like an Oscar.” Flo stalks over and bunches up the fabric in her fist. “What the heck? This is nothing but glorified aluminum. Tell them it’s a no-go or I’m going to flip a table.”

  Carlotta shakes her head. “You can’t bury the kid in that. It’s too flashy. You gotta go with something timeless, something mellow.” She looks to Flo. “Something black?”

  The entire table groans in unison, as does Flo.

  “No dark colors,” Flo is quick to insist. “I want pink—hot pink and I want Nona Nina’s tiara. She always said I could have it, and I’m taking it with me.”

  Carlotta looks my way, and I shrug.

  She clears her throat. “I bet Angel Face would look really good in a nice bright pink. And do you know what pairs well with bullet wounds? Nona Nina’s tiara.”

  Good grief. Everett and I exchange a look. The only thing that pairs well with bullet wounds is insanity, and tonight we’re eating it by the heap full.

  The table breaks out into moans and grumbles.

  “See here, Spider”—Cat has that no-nonsense look in her eye—“we’re not entertaining pink ’cause she was killed in that color. And Nona Nina’s tiara is off-limits. Once Flo bit the dust, she was no longer in the running for that intricate piece of Italian artwork. It’s been in the family for generations. There’s no way the diamonds stop here. Besides, it won’t work with the bouffant hairdo I’ve got planned for her.”

  “Did she just say bouffant?” Flo’s entire being turns an alarming shade of red. “The woman hates me.” Flo lets out an egregiously loud scream that causes both Everett and me to sit up straight.

  “Lemon? I think we should leave.”

  “This is my courtroom, Judge Baxter,” I tell him. “And just like you refused to dismiss me from yours, you’re not getting out of mine either.”

  The bodies around us cease to move, and every conversation stops on a dime.

  Then slowly an applause builds around me as the women all look my way with wonder in their eyes.

  “See here?” Cat nods my way. “All of you alley cats can learn a thing or two from Spider and her spawn. You don’t take any junk from your man no matter how important he may be. You lay down the law, and they like it.”

  Carlotta chuckles at the thought. “Don’t worry, Sexy. You can lay down the law once you get her behind closed doors tonight.”

  A silent laugh bounces through me. “Only if he’s in that bubble bath with me.”

  Another round of applause goes off, and the women pawing Everett all sigh in unison at the thought of taking a bubble bath with him.

  There’s nothing better than a bubble bath with Everett, except maybe a bubble bath with—

  “Noah!” I say just as he gives my shoulder a squeeze.

  “What’s going on?” He flashes those dimples, and the table sucks in a collective breath.

  “Dibs!” about three different women shout at once.

  “No can do,” Carlotta shouts back. “This is my Lot Lot’s side-piece.”

  A collective groan explodes around us, and suddenly those three vixens who were pawing at Everett are now giving me the evil eye. And now I totally get why that works.

  Carlotta bounces over, and Noah is quickly seated to my left. I take up his hand, too, in the event Flo has more to complain about. It’s much easier for them to hear her than for me to translate.

  “Noah, what on earth are you doing here?” I ask as Cat Canelli herself encourages us to have at the pizza before yelling at the waitress to keep ’em coming.

  He shrugs. “I took a pizza over to your place, and Evie snatched it before booting me out the door. Did you know she was having a party?”

  Everett growls, “Why am I not surprised that study group morphed into a club scene?”

  “It’s probably just a few extra friends,” I say, hoping that it’s true.

  Carlotta snickers. “Don’t worry, Lot. I’ve got the liquor under lock and key. The only thing they’ll have to entertain themselves with is each other.”

  Everett’s nostrils flare at the thought. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “We’ll make this quick,” I whisper, landing a slice of pizza to each of our plates.

  Carlotta leans toward her friend. “All right, Cadillac. What else is on order for Flo’s big day?”

  Cat slaps her hands together. “Okay, listen up, girls. It’s getting down to the nitty-gritty. I called Russo’s Funeral Home today, and they’ve got one more of those pastel blue caskets with the silver trim all around it. I put a deposit down on it, and we’re looking at an in-ground plot on the north side of the cemetery. Any objections?”

  Flo shrieks like a banshee as she swipes an entire pizza off the table and sends it flying in Cat Canelli’s direction. So I do the only thing I can think of—I leap out of my seat in hopes to intercept it with my body.

  It’s as if all of time slows down. The extra-large menace comes at me while slowly parting into pieces midair, and don’t think that display of stringy cheese stretching to perfection isn’t making my mouth water. And in one fell splat, I’ve got a cheesy, saucy addition to this maternity tent I’ve landed myself in.

  “Hey!” Cat barks at the waitress. “Watch where you’re going. Clean the girl up and bring out a couple of tiramisus.”

  In a moment I’ve got an entire waitstaff plucking pizza slices out of my hair, and both Everett and Noah are wild-eyed and more than slightly miffed that I landed myself in the pepperoni predicament to begin with.

  “It was Flo,” I whisper to them. “I don’t think she’s happy with the casket.”

  “You bet your life I’m not, Lottie Lemon.” Flo glides in close with her eyes narrowed over me like a couple of red flames. “I’m not getting shoved in no blue and silver box. The only reason Aunt Cat chose that clamshell of horror is because Trina Ricardo was buried in one last month. Cat’s had the hots for Trina’s dad, Lorenzo, for as long as I can remember. And pushing me off in the north end of the cemetery? She doesn’t care about my final resting place. She knows darn well I’ve earned myself a spot in the family mausoleum. She’s just afraid if she gives it to me, there won’t be room in there for her.”

  Cat and Connie whisper amongst themselves before Cat picks up her knife and fork and pounds the table with them.

  “Y’all shut up now,” she calls out, and the entire table all but stops breathing.

  Noah leans in. “I bet Everett conducts his courtroom in just the same manner.”

  Everett leans in my way as well. “I’ve resorted to it a time or two. It gets the job done.”

  Cat takes a breath. “So it’s settled. Gold dress, bouffant, baby blue casket, north lawn, and the wake will be at the Italian American Club down the street.”

  “What?” Flo roars so loud my ears threaten to bleed. “That dress is hideous! I’m not about to stand here while they turn
me into some coffin clown. The bouffant is enough to make me want to drag one of them to paradise with me. And I’m not having my wake at the freaking hall. Sofia Garbanzo had a full-on formal event at Kenicky’s Steakhouse when she kicked the bucket, and I’m not settling for anything but the best.”

  She lets out another riotous roar before storming past me, and before we know it, the table is flipped on its side, sending the Pope’s head flying like a missile right out of that glass box.

  The entire room watches as it tumbles through the air like a football. Women are screaming, hair is rattling—odd, I know—and even Sinatra seems to be holding an elongated note in honor of the catastrophe at hand.

  “I got it! I got it!” Carlotta shouts as she runs backward, holding her hands out, ready to clamp over the pontiff’s primal apex, but Flo bats it up a notch and it smacks Cat Canelli right on the forehead.

  “That’s what you get!” Flo riots before zooming back my way, and I give both Noah and Everett’s hand a squeeze as the melee continues around us. “I want my body taken out of that morgue tonight or I’m going to turn this entire state upside down—and your little lives, too!”

  Carlotta shudders. “We’d better do as she says, Lot.”

  “No way,” Everett doesn’t mind protesting the effort. “Tell her to find another way to get her needs met. There’s not a threat she can make to have that happen.”

  Flo grunts as she floats in close. Her hair shimmers with a spray of stars, a little pink mixed in with the onyx for good measure, and it’s a mesmerizing sight.

  “I know how to handle men like you, Judge Baxter.” Flo’s lips curl with malevolent intent and my antenna goes up because I can guarantee I won’t like what comes next. “And the best way to do it is through other people. You”—she pokes Noah in the chest—“I’ve got intel on the war about to break out with New Jersey. I’ve got it on good authority that the Canellis and the Lazzaris are teaming up to destroy the Morettis. They’ve invited the Morettis up for a family dinner, and once the bigwigs show, they’re going to mow them all down. Lives will be lost—innocent lives. It’s going to start raining bullets for the next ten years if someone doesn’t step in and intercept it—like, say the Ashford County Sheriff’s Department?”

  Noah’s chest widens as he looks my way. “I need the details, Lottie. If we don’t stop this, it could lead to the bloodiest day in Vermont history.”

  “No,” Everett grunts. “We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

  Flo belts out a hearty laugh. “All right, Judge Baxter. I was going to save this as the Sampson option, but since you’ve taken us right to the brink—my uncles have got the ability to make it look as if you’re laundering money through that bakery of yours. And they’ve got the ability to get the feds involved, too. I’m sure the judicial system frowns upon such behavior, so does the Vermont bar association.”

  Everett inches back as he looks my way. “Could she do that?”

  “I wouldn’t test her on it,” I say. “Besides”—I hiss as I turn to the spoiled specter before me—“that’s my bakery you’re threatening to mess with.”

  “I won’t mess with anyone if you do me this one solid,” she insists.

  I scoff over at her. “How do we know you’re not going to have us jumping through hoops until you’re zapped back to the big pizza parlor in the sky?”

  “It’s my final request.” She blows over her long red lacquered nails before rubbing them over her dress. “All I care about at this point are two things: getting the funeral of my dreams and catching the rat’s hind end that landed me in my soon-to-be beautiful casket to begin with.”

  Everett shakes his head. “We can’t do this, Lemon. We need to call her bluff.”

  Carlotta leans in. “What says you, Foxy?”

  Noah grimaces. “I’m sorry, Flo. He’s right. But I’m still going to need you to give me the details about that deadly showdown. You have the opportunity to save a lot of people’s lives.” He looks to both Everett and me. “Mine might be one of them. I’m on the task force to bring these guys down.”

  “Then it sounds as if you’ll have to steal my body.” Flo winks over at me. “Think of your baby, Lottie. Wouldn’t it be great to live in a world where the little tyke didn’t have to be wrapped up in a Kevlar blanket?”

  Carlotta gasps. “And if Foxy is the father, that baby might wind up with one dead daddy.”

  Everett offers her a stern look. “The kid has a spare. I’m sorry, Flo. We’re not playing hardball.”

  “Fine.” The snippy specter lifts her chin. “Just don’t expect to head to the courthouse tomorrow. My boys work fast.” She starts to take off, and a genuine panic bubbles up in me.

  “Wait!” I call out, and she zips over.

  Everett steps in close and lands his nose to mine, those blue eyes of his sirening out to mine like a warning.

  “Lemon, think about this.”

  “Lottie.” Noah sighs and gives a slight nod. “I think this needs to happen.”

  I look from Noah to Everett, the yes and no, and my heart doesn’t know what direction to move in.

  Noah closes his eyes a moment, and I can see the defeat in his face. This sting must be gravely important. There’s no other way Noah would ever agree to something like this.

  I glance to Everett as he glares at his old stepbrother. Everett looks downright dangerous, and my heart gives a few loose wallops as I take him in. Everett on a good day is arrestingly handsome, as is Noah, but when Everett is infuriated, it takes his razor sharp good looks and magnifies them to scorching levels.

  Everett takes a breath before reverting his gaze my way.

  “This is in your hands, Lemon.” The muscles in his jaw redefine themselves. “I highly advise against it, but you’re going to have to make the call.”

  I know it goes against everything Everett believes to do something like this.

  “Give me a minute,” I say, nodding for Flo to follow me over a few feet, and Carlotta comes along with us.

  Carlotta makes a face my way. “You know what needs to be done, Lot. There’s only one right decision.” She leans in. “Besides, I haven’t been a part of a good morgue-napping in a decade at least.” And she looks pretty frustrated about it, too. “I’ll head back to the table and say goodnight to Cadillac. Don’t let me down, Lot Lot.”

  She takes off, and a thought hits me.

  “Shoot. I forgot to talk to Lorena.”

  “About?” a female chirps from behind, and I spot Lorena and her glowing pale gray eyes.

  “Lorena.” I jump a little as both Noah and Everett step to the side, most likely to confer about how best to restrain both me and the renegade ghost among us. “I was just going to ask if there was any word on who did this to Flo?”

  The bribing banshee rubs her hands together. “Lorena is the best witch in the bunch. You’ve never had a friend like this, Lottie. She’d do anything for me. My killer had better watch their back. Once Lo gets ahold of them, they’ll wish they were on the inside of a prison.”

  “You really are on the case, aren’t you, little mama?” Lorena honks out a laugh.

  “You bet,” I say. “And I won’t rest until the killer is behind bars.”

  But at this point, it has far more to do with getting Flo off my back than it does a speck of justice.

  She shrugs. “Good luck to you. I guess you’ll want to talk to Nicky Knuckles. My brother says he’s making the rounds up in Scooter Springs. That’s where all the young guns are migrating. He’s making it rain at some club called Delfino’s.”

  Flo scoffs. “You mean he’s not hiding out?”

  I quickly echo her statement, and Lorena shakes her head.

  “He says he didn’t do it.” She says those last few words in air quotes. “And he’s not afraid of retribution either—because he knows it’s not coming. The big boys have got bigger fish to fry.” She leans in. “Between you, me, and the wind, the families in Leeds are getting together to ho
ld a Moretti family massacre. It’s going to be epic. And Flo, if you’re listening”—she points to the sky before pointing to the ground and winking with a laugh—“they’re calling this Operation Farewell from Flo.” She shrugs my way. “She would’ve liked the honor.” Lorena gives a quick glance over her shoulder. “I’d better get back there. We need to shore up the details of my bestie’s big day. I’m gonna make sure to toss a picture of the two of us at my twenty-first birthday party into her casket. It was her favorite night.” She takes off back to the table, which has been returned to its upright position, while Cat sits cradling the Pope’s head as if it was a baby.

  Flo squints her eyes at her bestie. “I think she got it mixed up. My twenty-first birthday party was my favorite night.”

  “She’s grieving,” I tell her. “If my bestie bit the big one, I wouldn’t even remember my current age, let alone what happened when I was twenty-one.”

  “You’re right. Lorena loves me like a sister. With me gone, it’s as if a bomb has gone off in her life. It’s as if someone swiped her beating heart.” She wraps her ghostly arm around my shoulders. “Now let’s go see about swiping my unbeating heart from the morgue. What do you say, Lottie? Are you going to save the entire state of Vermont from a turf war the likes of which hasn’t been heard of since the famed bloodbaths of Sicily? Think of your baby. Is that the kind of world you want for him or her? One filled with turf wars that can take down its potential daddy? And don’t think I’ve forgotten about Sexy.” A sinister grin crawls up her face. “I’ll have him unseated, disbarred, and most likely divorced. You don’t want that, do you, Lottie?”

  My heart breaks as I look across the way to the two men I love. Noah can save all of Vermont with the information Flo can provide. And there’s no way in heck I’m letting Everett fry.

  Carlotta comes back and hooks her arm through mine. “Well, Lot? What’s it gonna be? Are we dancing with the dead tonight? Or do I need to wake up Harry to do that?”