Freezer Bernie: SILVER HILLS COZY MYSTERIES, #3

CHAPTER TWO

AGNES BURPED DAINTILY behind her fist. That’s the best spaghetti and meatballs in the whole city, she told Celia.

Celia placed her fork down next to the remains of her salad. I’m glad you like it. It’s actually Mass’s mom’s recipe. She’s from Southern Italy, where tomato based sauces and pasta predominate. Celia daintily wiped her mouth with her linen napkin. Most people don’t realize how vast the food differences are in North and South Italy. Up North dishes are heavy with butter and cream and tend more toward beef and salted meats like prosciutto rather than seafood. I prefer the lighter fare of the South myself. Though I have relatives in the mountains of the North and they love to cook.

Flo had never heard Celia talk so much about any one subject. She generally tended to watch and listen, speaking softly and sparingly. Flo couldn’t help feeling Celia was talking to avoid whatever subject she’d wanted to broach with them. She shoved her soup bowl away and sat back with a happy sigh. You have the best Minestrone too.

That recipe was mine. Thank you very much.

I’m having pie, Agnes announced. Any recommendations? she asked Celia.

The deep dish apple is my favorite but there’s no cinnamon ice cream tonight.

Agnes frowned. It’s just not the same without the ice cream.

We’ll stop at the Dairy Barn on the way back, Flo said, lifting an eyebrow as a reminder that they’d be walking. She turned to Celia. I ate too much. I think I’m going to walk back. It will feel good.

Me too! Agnes said a little too enthusiastically.

Celia was watching the last few customers trickle out, the worried expression back on her face. She didn’t respond.

Celia? Flo nudged her arm.

Huh? Oh, I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind.

When she didn’t elaborate, Flo decided to nudge her on that too. Does this have anything to do with your argument with Mass earlier?

Celia looked confused. Argument? Then her expression cleared. Oh. You mean in the parking lot? Shaking her head, she picked up a piece of cucumber and ate it. No. That wasn’t an argument. Italians always scream and wave their arms like that.

Flo didn’t believe her for a minute. "You mean the movie Moonlight was accurate?"

Celia chuckled. Pretty much, yes.

Silence descended on the table again and Flo found herself nudging Celia one more time. So, you wanted to talk to us about something?

Celia slid her a look, her pretty blue gaze filled with worry. It’s nothing. Really. I think I know what to do. She smiled. But thank you for letting me join you for dinner. It was fun

They paid their bills and Agnes surged to her feet. That walk’s gonna feel mighty good.

Celia gave her a funny look.

Flo glared at her friend before standing too. You sure you don’t want to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you?

Celia rummaged in her purse and came up with her phone. No. You were right. Mass and I did have a little disagreement. It wasn’t important. She held up her phone. I’m going to call him right now and apologize. Her smile brightened. Maybe we’ll even have makeup sex.

Agnes made a gagging noise. Flo ushered her toward the door. Okay. Well, have fun then. She grimaced as she turned away.

Agnes chuckled. You told her to have fun with makeup sex? Really?

Shut up, fool. That’s not what I meant. Flo shuddered as they left the nearly empty restaurant. Decent folks shouldn’t talk about stuff like that. Then the rest of us wouldn’t have to accidently wish them well at it.

Agnes guffawed and Flo smacked her arm. But a moment later, as she was rubbing her bruised hand, she couldn’t help laughing too. In retrospect, with the restaurant behind them and Dairy Barn ahead, the idea was kind of funny.

ROGER ATTLES, RESIDENT senior hottie and father of the day manager at Silver Hills, spotted them as they returned to the residence an hour later. He left his gang of senior trouble makers at the bar and strode quickly in their direction, a determined look on his distinguished face.

Flo panicked. Hide me!

Agnes snorted. Hide you? Where, under my skirt?

Roger lifted a long fingered hand and smiled. Hello, ladies!

Flo’s panic made her lungs clench and her brain freeze. I have to go. She hurried away, toward the stairs that would take her to her second floor apartment. Guilt made every hurried step seem like a fresh betrayal, but she much preferred that to the humiliation of what Roger might say to her. Or worse...ask her.

Flo? His voice was filled with concern.

She picked up speed, nearly running up the curving staircase to the upper level. Roger’s deep voice followed her up the stairs. Was it something I said?

Below and behind her, Agnes could be heard snorting again. I have no idea. You know how flighty she is. How about a beer?

Flighty? Flo made a mental note to put raisins in her friend’s oatmeal the next morning and then hurried home before anybody came after her. She’d apologize to Roger in the morning when they were safely surrounded by friends. He wouldn’t embarrass her in front of their breakfast table. Surely. Feeling better, she unlocked her apartment door and grabbed her dog’s leash. It would be a quick jaunt out to the yard for Rodney and then an early night for Flo.

FLO WAS PULLED FROM a deep sleep by a noise. She opened her eyes and looked at the other side of the bed. Rodney was lying on his wide back, fat little sticks straight up in the air, snoring like a congested bull in a dusty barn. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was three o’clock in the morning. Groaning, she shoved her bedmate over to his side again and fluffed her pillow, settling back down in the hopes she could fall asleep before he worked his way back over and started snoring again. She lay a hand on his lumpy body to keep him there and breathed deeply, settling back to sleep. A minute later someone touched her shoulder.

Flo came awake with a start and ratcheted into a sitting position with a scream. Beside her, the fat dachshund jumped to his feet, yelping, and immediately began barking at their intruder, all four feet pinging off the bed with every verbal ejaculation.

The woman standing next to the bed snatched her hand back and covered her chest with it as though trying to hold her heart inside. Good Lord in Heaven, Flo you scared ten years off me.

Flo’s eyes widened. "I scared you! Celia Angonetti what on God’s green earth are you doing skulking around in my bedroom at three o’clock in the morning?"

Celia wrung her hands. I know. I’m sorry. But I knocked and you didn’t answer. I was afraid I’d wake everybody up if I kept pounding.

Flo leveled a look of displeasure on her friend. Did you even consider coming back in the morning?

Celia spared Rodney a worried glance before stepping forward to touch Flo’s arm. It can’t wait. Flo I’m in trouble. Or rather Mass is in trouble. We really need your help.

Flo didn’t think her eyes could go wider. But somehow they did. You want me to help your mobster of a husband? What in the world could I help him with? Does he need to learn how to bake snickerdoodles or knit an afghan? Because if not, I’m afraid my expertise doesn’t tend toward running drugs or offing thugs!

Celia’s pretty face paled, her blue gaze sparkling with unshed tears. Flo felt like she’d kicked a newborn kitten. You don’t understand. Celia wrung her hands, glancing at the door, and Flo realized she was thinking about making a run for it. But having been woken up in the middle of the night, Flo’s curiosity had a firm grip on her. I’m sorry for yelling at you Celia. I was just startled. Can we start over?

Celia wiped tears off her face and nodded, sniffling. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like this. She dropped onto the edge of the bed and sniffled again.

Rodney’s barking took on a whole new level of shrill. Flo reached over and patted his nose. Hush, boy. The fat doxie settled down onto his belly with a whine, his bright brown eyes fixed unerringly on their intruder. The tip of his tail vibrated with alarm.

Flo yanked a tissue from the box on the night stand, handing it to Celia. Tell me what’s wrong. If I can help you, I will.

Celia blew her nose, sounding like an alarmed goose. No. You’re right. I shouldn’t have come to you. This isn’t your problem. I just didn’t know who else to ask for help.

Flo shoved the covers off her legs and slid out of bed, pulling on a robe. Come on, hun. A cup of tea will help you pull your thoughts together.

Celia surged to her feet, setting Rodney off again. We don’t have time!

The phone in the kitchen started ringing and Flo knew it was probably crabby Mrs. Longbottom in 285. She took great pleasure in complaining whenever Rodney barked. She hurried over and grabbed him up, shushing him again. What’s going on, Celia? You need to tell me so I can help.

Celia bit her bottom lip. There’s a problem at the restaurant.

Flo frowned. That’s too bad, hun but I don’t...

Flo, there’s a dead body in the freezer!

CHAPTER THREE

I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU came in your pajamas, Flo told Agnes.

Her friend shrugged. I have a rule that I don’t get dressed before six in the morning. Agnes made a point of looking at the masculine-looking watch on her thick wrist. This says three thirty AM.

Flo shook her head. Inflexible people.

Celia ushered them through the front door of the restaurant. Hurry up, ladies.

Flo was worried about her friend. She’d never seen Celia so upset. Her attractive face was flushed and worry lines had moved in between her slender blonde brows. Flo wished she could somehow make things better, but unfortunately she only had bad news for the other woman. Celia, I really don’t think Agnes and I should be here. This is a crime scene now. And you know how well we do with crime scenes. We really should call Detective Peters.

Celia’s blue eyes filled with tears, her hands fluttering helplessly. No police! Mass will get blamed.

Flo bit her tongue so she wouldn’t blurt out the obvious. It was pretty clear from what her friend had told them on the way to the restaurant that Celia’s thug husband should be blamed. Celia was in shock at the moment. Eventually she’d have to see reason.

This way. Celia hurried between the tables, stopping once to straighten a place setting on her way by.

Flo skimmed Agnes a look and her friend elevated thick, iron gray eyebrows. Celia was definitely losing it.

Celia pushed the swinging door to the kitchen open and stepped into a well-lit commercial kitchen whose stainless steel appliances and tables shone in the bright fluorescent lighting. Mass told me the freezer was broken. Her long-suffering fingers twined nervously together as she explained. He lied to me. I knew he was lying. I’ve always been able to tell when he was lying to me... Her voice trailed off, thick with tears.

Flo barely kept from sliding Agnes another look. A man who wouldn’t live with his wife because it cramped his style, and who was probably a murderer... Flo thought lying about a broken freezer could be considered a minnow in that ocean. Do you mean to tell me that body’s been in the freezer all night?

Celia looked horrorstruck. What? No! Oh God no. But I came back here earlier. I wanted to surprise Mass for a little... she blushed. Well, anyway, he was standing right there, where you are, Agnes, yelling at somebody on the phone. When I came into the kitchen he turned a funny shade of gray and hung up right away. She frowned. He wouldn’t let me open the freezer for some gelato. I thought it was strange at the time but...

When we were here the waitress told you the freezer was broken, Agnes said.

It was. Well, not broken really, just not as cold as it should be. We’re looking at a new one.

"So technically he didn’t lie to you. It was broken."

Celia’s fingers twined faster, her gaze sliding around the room. He didn’t kill that man, she murmured as if reassuring herself. He would never.

Flo touched her arm. Celia, do you want to sit down? Agnes can get you a glass of water.

Celia blinked, looking at Flo as if she’d just realized she was there. Water? Whatever for? She shook her head, her face darkening with anger. I never understood the whole water for upset people thing. What good does a glass of water do? Is it gonna make the dead guy disappear from my freezer? I’m just as likely to choke on it and strangle myself.

Why don’t you show us the...erm...problem, Flo said in her best soothe the crazy lady voice.

Oh. Okay, sure. He’s over here.

Agnes pushed past Flo as if she couldn’t wait to see the corpse. Rubbing her arms under her sweater, Flo hung back, naturally reluctant to view the deceased. After all, she’d really only seen one dead person in the flesh and that had been a traumatic experience. She still shuddered when she thought of the dead guy spores she might have ingested when he and his upside down magazine landed on her face.

Flo rounded a long, stainless steel counter and found Celia and Agnes staring down at something on the floor. Expecting to see a man’s body, she blinked in surprise at the long sheets of brown paper with blood seeping out from underneath. Is that butcher paper? she asked softly.

Celia looked up, her mouth puckered worriedly. It was all I could think of to cover him with. She shrugged, her frown deepening.

Flo stopped beside Agnes and stared down at the paper, willing it to rise and fall in breaths that wouldn’t come judging by the amount of blood on the floor. Do you know who he is?

Celia didn’t respond. Flo glanced quickly up. Celia?

Yes. She sighed. His name’s Bernie. He sold Mass a car last week.

Agnes wandered away from the corpse and stepped into the freezer, eyeing the series of holes in the door. Why would Mass kill a car salesman?

Celia snorted. Why wouldn’t he? She shook her head. Besides, he didn’t kill this man, Agnes. Mass wouldn’t kill anybody.

Flo’s eyebrows climbed north but she didn’t say anything. From what she’d heard about Massimo Angonetti’s temperament and business dealings, he had no trouble at all killing things.

Agnes shrugged, stepping more deeply into