Read Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 04 - Killer Kool for Free Online

we’re in the right place to find out what they meant. I’ve
never seen so many different pasta dishes.” But no fried
anything, I added to myself. Shoot.
    Madame Geri looked around, taking in the tacky
Tuscany atmosphere. “We’re in the right place; I can
feel it. I don’t like the vibes. Something is off.” She
shivered.
    Now it was my turn to be nervous. I’d never seen
Madame Geri’s feathers even slightly ruffled by
anything-even talking to dead people. Of course, her
son hadn’t been involved, so that might be putting a new
spin on the spirit world’s wacky predictions.
    Jimmy returned with our iced teas, and we each or dered a pasta dish-hers primavera, mine spaghetti and
meatballs. Marco had also reappeared, but he lingered
at the bar, pretending not to watch us as he fidgeted with
the strings of his apron. Why was he so agitated?

    Did he have something to hide?
    “Sandy seemed a little better after I talked to her,”
Jimmy commented, as he placed a small bowl of sliced
limes and lemons on our table. “I wasn’t sure which one
you liked for your tea, so I brought both.”
    “I’m a lime girl.” I squeezed a hearty amount of its
liquid into my tea, but it squirted out in several directionsboth Madame Geri and her son winced and then rubbed
their eyes.
    “Sorry-guess the lime juice has a mind of its own.”
I cupped my hand around the second slice to restrict its
acidic stream. “So, Jimmy, has there been anything
unusual going on here lately?” I stole a few more glimpses
in Marco’s direction.
    He paused. “Not really just business as usual.”
    “Is your boss treating you right?” Madame Geri
asked. “He seemed a little … belligerent.” She enunciated every syllable of the last word and glanced over in
Marco’s direction. He responded with a shaky smile
and disappeared again into the kitchen.
    “Mom, he’s not that bad,” Jimmy commented, still trying to clear his vision from the lime juice spritz. “Mr.
Santini might be kind of a nitpicker in the kitchen, but I
can’t believe he’d harm his own brother. Granted, he
hasn’t taken it too hard, but he and Carlos didn’t get along too well.” He blinked a couple more times. “Poor Beatrice, though-she’s pretty cut up over her uncle’s death.
She’s been sobbing all day.”

    “Can’t say I blame her,” I chimed in. “Nick Billie told
me that Beatrice found his body in a recliner-“
    “We need to talk to Marco-now,” Madame Geri interrupted. “The vibes are getting worse.”
    Oh, jeez.
    Jimmy gulped. “I’ll go get him-“
    All of a sudden, Marco’s shouting could be heard
from the kitchen. “I told you not to chop the carrots like
that, you idiot!”
    “I’m sorry, Mr. Marco,” a younger man’s pleading
voice wafted out. “I won’t do it again.”
    “You’re damn right you won’t-you’re fired!”
    “I’ll have to go back to Italy if I lose my job,” the
other man said, his voice rising in volume. “You can’t
do that to me and Beatrice.”
    “Yes, I can! You don’t have Carlos here anymore to
coddle you.”
    “Put the knife down, Papa,” a female voice pleaded.
    Knife?
    My eyes met Madame Geri’s in alarm.
    The kitchen door burst open, and a slim, dark haired,
young Italian stallion dashed out, Marco in his wake;
the latter held up a large butcher knife in his hand.
    The diners ceased conversation for a third time to
watch the show.
    “Stay away from my Beatrice!” Marco pointed the knife at him, his breath coming in short gasps. “You’re
not good enough for her-I’ve told you that again and
again. Now, get out, and don’t come back.”

    The young man held his ground, but I could see his
hands trembling as he faced down the knife. I’d be running for my life, though I hadn’t exactly done that when
a murderer threatened me with a paint knife (but that’s
another story).
    “I’d better separate them,” Jimmy said, starting in
that