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Authors: Kristen Gibson

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“Mattie,” he
whispered by my ear. “That’s Ruggiano.”

I shook my head.
“No friggin’ way.” My eyes adjusted, but the image was the same. “This is NOT
happening.”

Garrett sensed my
need to move forward, and placed a gentle but firm hand on my arm to stop me.

Despite the
Coroner’s report and some real evidence, I didn’t believe Chloe took her own
life. The girl was smart, outgoing, and determined. She was driven to become a
successful lawyer. Partly, because she wanted to help people, but also because
she wanted to prove to her parents, mostly her father, she could do anything. I
understood the need to help, and the need to stand out. Seeking parental
approval was something we’d cried over many times. This was not the way she’d
go out.

On the other hand,
Chloe did have problems. But part of the evidence Tess threw in my face showed
Chloe was getting help. Going to therapy, breaking it off with Tab, and
contacting friends. She wouldn’t have called me talking about a big case if she
was severely depressed. I didn’t think so. By my account, she was close to an
important breakthrough—not something she’d give up willingly. Chloe was
murdered. Because of someone she knew, or the work she was doing.

Now, a known mob
boss was here. One tied to the doctor who prescribed Chloe’s anti-anxiety
meds—the ones responsible for her overdose. I had to find out how he knew
her, and if he knew something about her death.

“Did I miss
anything?” The voice was slightly Italian and the tone was completely annoying.
He walked in and acted like he owned the place. Five-foot-seven, on a good day,
wearing a shiny blue suit, slicked-back receding hair, and crazy gold rings
that looked too cliché to be true. There he stood, plain as day—Rocco
Ruggiano.

Tess was next to
him. I had no idea why, except maybe they had an “arrangement.” This did not
sit well with me. Something about it felt wrong.

They made their way
to the casket. Even from where we stood, it wasn’t hard to hear Ruggiano.
“Pretty girl. Such a shame, doing herself in like that.”

The friggin’ nerve!
Did he even know Chloe? The viewing room suddenly felt hot.

I made a beeline
for him. Knowing there was no way to stop me, Jos walked alongside me. Garrett
was on my left, and tried a couple times to slow me down, but kept pace as I
shook off his efforts.

Tess looked at me
with a slight nod. Then Ruggiano turned and saw me. “Well, hello. Yet another
pretty thing.”

What? Did he think
we were all pretty things?

“Hope you don’t
have the same problem this one had,” Ruggiano looked at me then Chloe as he
spoke. I wasn’t sure what he meant by problem, but he was about to have big
problems of his own if he didn’t stop talking.

“Frankly, I never
touch drugs. They can do such terrible things to a person. Like your friend
here.”

He didn’t know me,
but I’m pretty sure he recognized the daggers shooting from my eyes. My pulse
raced and rage grew. It took all my energy to resist the urge to lunge at him.
“Excuse me?”

“Ah, I didn’t
properly introduce myself. Rocco Ruggiano.” He stuck out his hand. When I
refused it, he turned his hand over, checked out his manicure, and let the hand
fall to his side. “I thought Garrett told you I was coming. Good to see you
again Garrett.”

“What?” I looked at
Garrett.

“I wanted to tell
you,” he confessed. “But, he came in before I could.”

“You should have
led with him, not Tess,” I said noticing the look of insult on Tess’s face.

“I understand
you’re upset, Mattie,” Ruggiano said.

“It’s a funeral,
nearly everyone here is upset,” I sneered.

Ruggiano laughed.
“You’re different than Garrett’s other girls.” He inspected me as he said it.

“How would you know
anything about me? And how did you know the deceased?” I fired back, so much
for a gentle approach to questioning.

Garrett gave him a
displeasing look. I wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told me about Ruggiano, but I
suspected his reason was only going to piss me off more than I already was.

“Tess here told me
about you and Chloe.”

Yet another reason
to despise Tess. I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Tess also tells me
you ask a lot of questions.”

“I have an
inquisitive mind.” Absolutely true. “Mind sharing what Tess told you?”

He chuckled again
then looked me over like a wolf eyeing a Porterhouse. “What’s the saying?” He
snapped his fingers at Tess for an answer, but she just shrugged. Either she
didn’t know what he meant, or didn’t want to speak. “Oh yeah, curiosity killed
the cat.”

I was thinking how
much I hate that phrase when his eyes hardened. They looked almost black, and
truly frightening. As if drawing on some deep, dark power, his body drew in
upon itself and his voice deepened.

“Poking around
isn’t going to bring your friend back. Reports say she was weak with addiction.
Dosed herself into oblivion. Case closed. Don’t be the cat.”

My blood boiled. I
was mad at him, mad at Tess, and I’d had enough of this.

“I don’t know what
you two have got going here.” I moved my finger in a circle between Tess and
Ruggiano. “But, I don’t believe a word of your stories. You might be able to
convince the general population the reports of suicide are true, but I don't
buy it. I’m not scared, and I’ll keep digging until I find something.”
Actually, I was very scared. It would have been smarter to keep quiet, but my
mouth wasn’t on the same page as my brain. Passive resistance be damned.

I knew Chloe was
murdered, and I knew someone was trying very hard to cover it up—someone
powerful. Ruggiano fit the bill as much as anyone. This wasn’t the place to
accuse him, not without proof, but he’d just made my short list of suspects. What
was his motive? I hadn’t a clue. I’d look into it immediately after the
funeral. We needed to finish this “discussion” before the Ellis’s got wind of
it and intervened.

“Now, now, Mattie.
Take it easy. I didn’t mean to rub salt,” Ruggiano said. Of course he meant to
rub salt. He wanted to rile me up, but why?

“Tess pegged you
for the smart type. Let’s not start something at a funeral. It’s not very
smart. I’m sorry for your loss.” His sorry sounded hollow coming from his
mouth. Ruggiano turned to leave, but stopped, leaned in and whisper in my ear.
“Be careful. There are a lot of bad people in the world. Would hate to see you,
or someone else you love get hurt.”

Was he threatening
me? Or admitting some sort of guilt? Infuriated, my cheeks flushed, but I had
no words. The weight of it all came crashing down. Hard. I stood silent for a
minute too long. Ruggiano was gone.

Jos had to break me
out of my daze. She probably knew my catatonic state could reach total
implosion, or explosion at any moment.

“Let’s get some
air.” Jos didn’t wait for my response. She snagged my arm and said in firm
hushed tones as we exited the room and out the building. “Are you crazy?
Talking to Ruggiano that way? We’ve got to get you out of here before he comes
back with an Uzi, or something bigger.”

Her statement
brought me out of the trance. “He wouldn’t bring an Uzi to a funeral.” How
ridiculous.

“Girl, for you he
might reconsider. You got in his face but good.”

When we got to the
office, I had to sit down and put my head between my knees.

I’d screwed up. If
the rumors and online stories were true, Ruggiano was mean and deadly. There
probably weren’t a lot of people who looked directly at him, and I’d just
mouthed off like I was invincible. Jos might be right about Ruggiano bringing
an Uzi to take me out. Although, he could probably have any one of his thugs
rub me out any way he wanted. The thought made my head throb. I leaned over,
rested my elbows on my knees and rubbed my temples. Searching for an upside to
our confrontation, I found none. What had I done?

I had to think of a
way to calm down, and get answers, and figure this thing out. Presently, I was
getting nowhere. More questions swirled, and more anxiety over the questions
gave me heart palpitations.

“Take it easy.”

“Sorry, Jos.”

“Why are you
apologizing to me? You’re the one hyperventilating.”

“I mean sorry for
this mess.”

“You may have just
pissed off a mob boss, but you didn’t hurt me.”

“I shouldn’t have
done it. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Give yourself a
break, Mattie. This whole thing is strange. I mean, who would have thought we’d
be here talking about Chloe’s death, or murder, or whatever? You’re upset. I
get it. But don’t worry about me, worry about yourself. I am,” her eyebrows
were scrunched up in concern.

“I can’t accept
that she’d commit suicide.”

“This is hard for
all of us. I don’t think she could have done it either. But, we have to accept
that it’s possible she did.”

“Why?” I was
exasperated. Why was anyone considering it possible?

“She had her share of
trouble. Neither one of us kept in touch with her. She was on anti-anxiety
meds, and you told me she called needing help. Maybe she really needed help.”

“I swear it just
sounded like she wanted advice on a case.” My mind raced thinking of different
ways I could have carved out twenty minutes to talk with Chloe sooner. Had I
really been too busy to call back the first time she reached out? Maybe I was
concerned she’d just break down in tears over Tab, or something I thought she
should have under control. Things in her life might have actually been worse
than they sounded.

“Mattie, you’ve
been protecting us since we were kids—standing up to school bullies and
taking on crazy relatives. She stood up for you, and maybe you thought you owed
her, but you have to let this go.”

“It’s too hard to
process. She did stand up for me. She could have left me at Tab’s mercy, but
she didn’t. You know better than anyone, people don’t do that enough these
days. I can’t stand to think she hurt herself because she felt alone. If I’d
called sooner, maybe I could have saved her. And if she was killed…Jos, I have
to find out what happened!”

We heard the door
hinges squeak as it opened.

“Hey. Mind if we
talk?” Garrett indicated he wanted to talk with Jos, not me. I wondered if
Garrett heard our conversation. Great, I’d probably upset him too. I just hoped
he wouldn’t tell his grandpa about Ruggiano.

“Sure,” Jos
answered. I sunk into my chair when they left the room.

What if he told
Grandpa Stanley?
It wouldn’t go well.
Stanley being set in his ways, despised disruptions to the business. Like the
time we accidentally set off the fire alarm during a viewing. He looked at us
sideways for over a week, all because we overheated some oil trying to cook
dinner one night.

The longer I had to
think about, and replay today’s altercations, the worse I felt about
everything. And if Ruggiano complained and Stanley found out? Catastrophic. Mom
and I could be out by sunset. My chances for a plea deal were slim to none, and
mom wasn’t here to defend us.

I kicked my shoes
under the desk and curled up in the chair as much as possible trying to hide
myself. My dress stretched over my knees and feet. It didn’t help me think any
better, but it gave me the illusion of disappearing, which was exactly what I
wanted to do.

After twenty
minutes or so, my legs started to cramp. I uncurled and decided a drink, or a
cookie would help. I stepped back into my shoes, and walked to the doorway.
When I peeked out of the office, I noticed a group chatting near the viewing
door, but no one devouring sweets at the mourning table. After one step toward
the cookies, a man came up and grabbed my arm.

“Ack!”

“Shh! I’m a friend
of Chloe’s,” he whispered. My heart pounded at the surprise. “We need to talk
privately.” As if he knew his way around the place, he lead me back into the
office and to a corner desk.

My heart was
finding it’s way back to normal speed, but I remained wary of him.

“I’m Tom. Tom
Clark.” Judging by his slightly doughy six-foot-plus frame, and straggling
brown hairs—part of a receding hairline—he must have been in his
late thirties. He put his hand out. I stood dumbfounded shaking hands with this
guy I’d never met. He seemed nervous because the hearty handshake went on and
on, until he pulled his hand back.

“Oh, sorry. I used
to work with Chloe. We worked on the Oxley case. She might have told you about
it, about me? We were together the night her ex- came over.”

Oh. Oh! He was with
Chloe when she and Tab fought. For one of the first times all day, I stayed
quiet and listened.

“We were doing
research on a case. Tab showed up, and went nuts. Thought she was screwing
around on him. With me. She told him we were just working, and it wasn’t his
business because they were over. He got so mad. He ripped into her. When I
tried to help explain, he laid into me.”

BOOK: Red Ochre Falls
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