Here Comes the Body. Maria DiRico
that’s the case in front of me. I’ll be putting a call in to your father.”
Ravello Carina appeared in the doorway. “No need, I’m right here.”
“Dad!” Mia, overcome with relief at the sight of him, jumped up and threw her arms around her father.
“Guadalupe called and told me what was going on. I figured I better get over here pronto.” Ravello separated from his daughter. “I told the anniversary party that everyone’s getting a bottle of Montepulciano from the Boldano family’s Abruzzo vineyard. I’m going upstairs and offering the same to our bachelor party guests.”
“I have some questions for you,” Dianopolis said.
“And I’m happy to answer them. When I’m done.” Ravello’s tone was polite but with enough of an undercurrent to make the detective back off.
Ravello and Mia took the banquet hall’s small elevator to the second floor. They entered the ballroom, where they found a room of extremely drunk men entranced by Park Lexington as she worked the room like a professional comedienne, only one clad in gold spike heels and a sequined bikini. “. . . So I said to the groom, ‘You may be a lawyer, but you’re not the only one here who knows how to get people off.’” Her appreciative audience whoo-hooed and laughed as DJ DJ punctuated the joke with the sound effect of a rim shot.
Mia strode over to the stripper. “Thank you so much, Park. I hope, I mean, I’m sure you have a lot more stories. But first, my father has something he’d like to say.”
She turned the mic over to him.
“Hello, I’m your host, Ravello Carina,” he began.
There was a murmur in the room as his name sunk in. “Is he the Ravello Carina?” Mia heard one attendee ask another. His friend nodded. “Whooaaaa.” Both partygoers instantly sobered up.
“We apologize for any inconvenience caused by this . . . unfortunate situation,” Ravello continued. “I would personally like to make it up to you by gifting each of you with a free bottle of Boldano Family Vineyard’s world-renowned Montepulciano red wine. There’s a truck outside now. When the police have finished doing what they need to do, visit the truck for your gift. Thank you all for your patience.”
“Thank you, sir,” a voice called out, prompting a chorus of thanks, along with applause. Mia marveled at how much goodwill a cheap bottle of wine with notes of notoriety could buy. She took the mic from her father and handed it back to Park, who launched into another salacious bachelor party tale.
“Now take me to the body,” Ravello said to Mia.
She led her father through the swinging doors to the ballroom’s back hall. Guadalupe, Evans, and some of the waitstaff were already there, watching as Angie’s body was removed from the cake. “I don’t think whoever we rented that cake from is gonna want it back,” Guadalupe said.
“Nope,” Mia said. “We’ll have to eat the cost.” Her mood went from glum to glummer as she tallied up the ballooning bills for the evening’s events. “Too bad the cake’s fake. We could eat it for real and save some money on groceries.”
Ravello walked over to Angie and examined her as attendants from the coroner’s office laid the late woman out on the body bag resting on a gurney. “Did you tell Pete about how she showed up here and what she said to me?” Mia nodded. “Good. No lies. They’re more dangerous than the truth. At least in this case.”
Everyone watched in silence as an attendant began to zip up the body bag. The swinging doors suddenly swung opened. John Grazio stepped inside, followed by one of his guests. “Hey, hi, I was wondering, since it was my party that got ruined, maybe I could have an extra bottle of wine or something.”
“You can have a case,” Ravello said. “And there’ll be no charge for tonight’s event.” Ravello walked out of the hallway through the swinging doors, past the two men and back into the ballroom. Mia flinched. This was proving to be one very expensive evening for Belle View Banquet Manor.
“Thank you, sir, thank—whoa.” John stared at Angie’s corpse. His eyes widened.
“Holy—is that—” his friend stuttered.
Their reactions set off flare guns for Mia. “Do you know her?”
“What? No,” John said. “We were just like, is that the body?”
“Yeah, that’s what we meant. Is that like the body, the body of the dead person?”
“We definitely never seen her before, right, Chris?”
“Right. Oh man, I’m gonna be sick again.”
Chris bolted from the room. “I better make sure he’s okay,” John said.
He took off after his friend. As Mia watched them go, she thought to herself, Those are a couple of really bad liars.
Chapter Five
Mia’s initial impulse was to take off after John and his drunk friend and pepper them with questions. But she wanted to confirm that her staff wasn’t too traumatized by the murder investigation. So far, they were being troupers, but she feared the night might wear them down and the last thing she needed was for the crew to quit on her.
“You know what’s traumatic?” Guadalupe responded when Mia appeared in the kitchen and checked in with her. “War.”
“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?” Missy held up her phone. “I’m sharing all these amazing photos about the police and stuff. I have, like, a million likes and new friends. I may even trend!”
“No worries,” Evans said with a shrug. “It’s cool.” The sous chef fascinated Mia. She guessed him to be in his early thirties. Then again, he could be in his late twenties or mid-forties. She’d yet to see a hint of a smile on his face, but he seemed totally committed to his job. There was a time years ago when a black man couldn’t walk through certain outer borough neighborhoods without being chased off by a gang of Italian or Irish thugs with bats. Did he still feel a lingering sense of not belonging?
She shut down this stream of consciousness and concentrated on the task at hand: taking the heat off her father. “I just wanted to make sure you were all okay. Now I’ll check on the guests.”
Two guests, really—John and Chris. When they were not in the ballroom, she headed for the men’s room. She cracked open the door and saw John standing in front of a stall. His friend was bent over the toilet bowl. John noticed her and left his post. “This is at least Chris’s second prayer to the porcelain god tonight. Maybe his third. His name’s Chris Tinker but we call him Chris Drinker. Because he drinks a lot. I came up with that.”
“Very clever.” Mia hoped she sounded sincere and not sarcastic, although she had a feel that sarcasm would sail right over the groom’s head. “John, I got a very strong impression that you and Chris knew Angie—the victim. I can understand why you wouldn’t want to say anything in front of the investigators. But no one’s around now. You can tell me.”
Mia put this as flirtatiously as possible but, to her frustration, for once he didn’t bite. “No, don’t know her. It was just weird seeing a body like that. You know, first time and all. I better see how Chris is doing.”
He disappeared back into the men’s room. Mia released a profanity, then moved on to Plan B. She’d tell a detective her suspicions—but not Pete Dianopolis. She’d go to his partner, Ryan Hinkle.
She found the young detective snoring as he leaned against a wall in the first-floor hallway behind the Marina Ballroom. He started when she gave him a slight shake. “I’m awake!” he said, snapping to attention.
“Whatevs. Look, I have some suspects for you.” Mia shared John’s and Chris’s reaction to Angie’s body and their cagey responses when she pressed them to explain.
“Sounds