I rolled my eyes and stood again. From my tiny office refrigerator I pulled out a tray of ice cubes from its freezer.
“That was impossible at the best of times.” I shoved several cubes into a plastic baggie then wrapped it with a dishtowel. “Here. You should ice the area so it doesn’t swell too much more.”
He held it up to his chin. The tiny hiss that blew from between his full lips was upsetting.
“I really am sorry.”
He waved his free hand in the air, dismissively. “I’ve been hit before, and by people much bigger and stronger than you. Although,” he shook his head, “your knee is deadly.”
Saying I was sorry again seemed redundant so I sat back down.
“What do you need to ask me?”
While he kept the ice in place, he questioned me about Chico.
“He mostly delivered for us and picked up stock when we needed it,” I told him. “We’ve got a bunch of standing business customers we deliver lunch to daily. Some in the area, some in mid-town. Plus he delivered to a few of our shut-ins in the neighborhood. We’re cheaper and have tastier food than meals-on-wheels.”
Tony nodded. “He ever tell you anyone on his delivery route was bothering him, or making things difficult for him?”
“Nope, never.”
“He ever give you the impression something was going on with him, something,” he shrugged, “hinky?”
I squinted at him. “Again, never.”
“Okay.” He shifted in the chair and asked, “How about personal stuff?”
“Like what? I don’t know if he was married or had a girlfriend. Or even a boyfriend, if that’s what you mean. I don’t pry into the staff’s personal business, despite being my mother’s daughter.”
For the first time since coming into my office, he grinned. In a nanosecond it bloomed into one of the killer smiles he’d been famous for, the one that had so convincingly induced me to crawl into the back seat of his Z8 without a second thought about anything from possible pregnancy to being labeled a puttana and banished to a nunnery by my parents if they found out.
“How’s your mother doing? Still as beautiful as ever?”
“And just as nosy, which I’m not. Not with our employees, anyway.”
I was dying to ask him, though, any number of personal things starting with are you married?
“He hang around with anyone here? Grab a beer after work, or spend free time with any of your other employees?”
It was my turn to shake my head. “Chico came in, worked a full day, then left. Simple and easy. What do you know about him that I don’t? Was he involved in something”—I flipped my hand at him—“criminal? We did a background check on him when he applied for the job. Everything ran solid. Uncle Sonny said he was good to go.”
And he should know. Sonny is my father’s go-to when he needs to find out about potential employees and things they’d omitted on their job applications. Even for a job as simple as a driver and delivery guy, Daddy wanted to ensure everyone who worked for him was legit and not a warrant away from incarceration.
Tony thought for a moment, his high forehead grooving in the middle between his full brows. Tiny crinkle lines appeared at the corners of his beautifully shaped eyes.
He ignored my question.
“So he was never gone for longer than you thought he should be while out on a delivery? Never clocked out or been somewhere you couldn’t reach him if you needed to?”
I shrugged. “Traffic can be a nightmare during lunch hour, so yeah, there were times he took a little longer than we’d planned for. But he always did his job, never complained, and I never received any complaints about him from customers.”
I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms over my breasts. Tony’s attention flicked down, lingered for a second, then quickly made its way back up to my face.
“Look.” My voice was a bit more breathless than I’d have liked after seeing the quick burst of heat in the look he tossed my chest. “You gonna tell me what this is all about or not? ‘Cuz I’ve got a dead employee, a dead employee I’ll remind you I found in my freezer, and if that isn’t enough to make me go bat-shit crazy, all these questions are making me nervous Chico was into something bad that could come back on us. Now, out with it. What’s going on?”
Tony sat silent, his intense, blue-eyed gaze trained on me. I’d have hated to be a suspect locked in an interrogation room with him.
After a moment he tossed the towel down on my desk and stood, indicating our little question and answer session had come to an end. Before I could press harder for answers, he said, “Okay. I’ve got something to tell you and your father, so I might as well do it once instead of having to repeat it. Come with me to his office.”
I was surprised when he opened the door, held it for me, and then waited until I went through it first. The little act of old world chivalry wasn’t something I’m used to. My brothers typically burst through any door ahead of me, never hold them open, even for my mother, and many times let them slam back without a care someone is behind them. Despite my mother’s and grandmother’s numerous scoldings and head ticks over the years, the manners they’d tried to instill had never taken root. How the four oldest boys ever convinced girls to marry them is beyond me.
The hallway was littered with people in white jumpsuits going in and out of the walk-in.
“Those are the crime scene techs,” Tony explained. “They’re going over every inch of your freezer, looking for evidence.”
“Gesu.”
In the span of an hour my life had become a tacky knockoff episode of Law and Order: Deli Crimes.
Angelo Rocconova stood guard outside daddy’s closed office door. When he spotted us, he nodded at Tony, opened the door then stepped back so we could enter.
“Your mother would be so proud of your manners, Ange,” I murmured. It was a ball-busting statement and intended as such. If it weren’t for the fact we didn’t share any DNA, Angelo could have been one of my brothers.
He glared at me, then rolled his eyes and shook his head. I’m chalking the fact he kept silent and didn’t sass me with a snarky comeback to Tony’s presence.
“Madonna, you okay?” Daddy asked as soon as we walked in. He sprinted across the room and pulled me into a hug. Being embraced in those strong and familiar arms did wonders for my nerves.
“Let’s all sit down,” Tony said.
After we’d settled into chairs, he remained standing, took a breath and slung his hands into his pants pockets.
“First, I know you didn’t kill Chico, Donna.”
To say I was relieved was a grave understatement. Daddy squeezed my hand.
“I didn’t, but why do you sound so sure?”
A crooked grin ticked up on one side of his face. “Let’s call it a hunch and leave it there.”
“Do you know who did?” Daddy asked. “Or why he was killed and left in my walk-in?”
“I don’t know the why,” Tony said. “As to the who, I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
“Care to share?”
“In a minute I will, don’t worry.”
“Well, what can you tell us, then?” Daddy asked. “I gotta right to know why one of my employees got shanked in my store.”