The Dead Years

CHAPTER 1

Excuse me, can I get through? That’s my bag, Julie Carlyle navigated her way through the three-deep crowd. She watched as her black alligator suitcase slowly moved away and disappeared into the black hole of the carousel.  Minutes later it reappeared and she captured it.

Dodging golf carts, strollers and people running down the moving sidewalk, she finally exited the terminal. Julie ignored her ringing phone.  It was too much trouble to dig it out of her purse with one hand.

Once outside, Julie pushed her bag up against the wall and stood in front of it.  Her phone rang again.  This time she answered it and an impatient voice said, Where are you?  I’ve been calling you for the last twenty minutes.

I’m outside the terminal.  It’s crazy here. The flight was late and when I arrived, I had to walk to the other end of the terminal to get my luggage.  Don’t bother to come get me.  It’s rush hour and it will be easier to take a cab.

That’s a good idea.  I’m in the middle of making dinner.  Do you want to stop by and eat with us?

No, but thanks anyway, Ava, I’m beat.  I’ll call you in the morning.

Wait, wait, don’t hang up, Ava said.  How did it go?

It didn’t go well.  Rusty’s parents never said one word to me at the funeral.  I know they’re still blaming me for what happened, but they don’t want to talk about it.  I’ll explain it all to you when I see you tomorrow.  It’s so noisy, I can hardly hear you.  I’m going to hang up, love you, Sis, bye.

Julie stepped out into the fire lane and waved her hand in the air.  In less than a minute, a cab pulled up next to her.

Where to? he asked.

Forty-seven ten, Lake Shore Drive, she replied.

As he maneuvered his way through the line of impatient drivers and joined the parade of cars on the highway, Julie laid her head on the back of the seat and closed her eyes.  She was exhausted.  Thank goodness, in fifteen minutes she would be home. Her thoughts would not quiet.  They seeped into her head once again.

What am I doing here?  When I called mother and told her my boyfriend had died all she said was I think you should come home.  Why did I let her convince me that was a good idea?  She said I needed time alone, but I think I would have been better off surrounded by my friends.  I could have stayed at school and then repeated the semester.  I can’t believe it’s been over a month already since Rusty died.  I have to figure out what I’m going to do now.

Her body lurched forward as the driver put on the brakes and pulled to the curb in front of a high-rise apartment building.  Julie paid him and waited while he took her bag out of the trunk.  He smiled when he saw his tip.

Good to see you, Miss Carlyle, I didn’t know you were coming home.  I suppose you know your mother hasn’t arrived home from Italy yet, Carl said.  He picked up her suitcase and opened the door.

Yes, I did know that, Carl.  Mother is aware that I am going to be spending some time here before I go back to school.  Here, I can take that, she said, as she reached for her bag.  He was a nice man, but a little too pushy for a doorman.  He was always asking her questions and sometimes she felt they were a little too personal.

So, she knows you’re here? he asked again.  I can call her and tell her if you’d like.

It’s not necessary to call her.  I told you that my mother knew I would be here.  Wait, you can call her?  You have her private number? Julie asked.

Yes, I do.  Your mother thought it important that I keep her informed about any situation that might arise while she was away.

Julie was irritated.  Why would mother give her private number to a doorman?  It didn’t make much sense to her, but it shouldn’t surprise her.  Her mother had quite a few odd habits.

Julie entered the code number on the keypad and the elevator car took her to the twenty-first floor.  She stepped out into a hallway lined with large prints in garish gold frames.  Every available inch of wall space was covered with pictures or framed posters advertising operas her mother had starred in.  There were scenes of her mother dressed as Madam Butterfly and the heroine in Tosca and La Boehme.  At one time in her life, Julie’s mother told her the story behind each poster and what part she played, but now she passed them as if they were just kitschy wallpaper instead of the constant reminder of her mother’s illustrious career.

The rest of the apartment was also an ego trip to her mother and her profession.  The living room was a museum minus the gold rope that would remind all who entered not to touch her treasures.  Two glass cabinets filled with awards took up an entire wall spanning the length of the room, while four marble tables, covered with pictures of every famous person her mother ever met, bordered the massive white couch.  An obtrusively large painting of her mother dressed in full regalia hung over the fireplace.  Mary Carlyle, known to her audiences as Giselle LaTese, was presently one of the world’s most noted opera singers and, unfortunately, Julie’s mother.

Julie picked up the blue remote off a side table and opened the wall of drapes to the magnificent view of the Chicago skyline and Lake Michigan.  She couldn’t count how many times she stood at this window with her back to her mother while she was lectured on everything from why she should lose weight to her ridiculous choice of college.  There were conversations about her choice of friends and her refusal to take singing lessons or speak only Italian to her mother.  She stared out the window and remembered the time so long ago when she tried to comfort her mother after she lost a starring role to a younger woman.  She drank glass after glass of two-hundred-dollar brandy until she finished off the bottle and hurled the crystal container at the window.

That was the same night her mother told Julie she had an older sister.  Up to that point in her life, she believed she was an only child.  Julie sat with her mouth gaping open as her mother lay in her drunken state on the couch and told Julie all about Ava.  She told Julie that she always planned on telling her, but somehow the time got away from her.  Her mother admitted that children were never part of the plan for her career, even though she finished the conversation by saying how much she really loved both her daughters. It was nearly impossible to comprehend.  She kissed Julie on the head and passed out on the couch.

The next morning her mother had no memory of their conversation.  Shortly after that Julie used her mother’s credit card and hired a private detective to find the sister who was now an important part of her life.

Now, she had to tell her mother one more thing that would put her into the category of a total disappointment with a hopeless future.  She was pregnant, and the father of her baby was dead.  She knew her mother would immediately begin making plans for her.  She would insist that Julie disappear for a while to avoid the embarrassment of it all.  Julie knew the real reason was that Madam LaTese would have to admit she was a grandmother.  The tabloids would have a field day.  She was a celebrity and most anything she did was news.  Her mother had crossed paths with rag reporters many times over the years.  In her earlier years, her flamboyant behavior and appetite for dating married men had almost ruined her career.  She was sure her mother would not want to take a chance on another unflattering story at this point in her life.

Julie jumped when the ringing of her phone interrupted her thoughts.  She knew who it was.  Carl must have called her mother the minute she stepped inside the building.

Well, I see you made it.  I haven’t heard from you in weeks.  I thought you were coming home right after the funeral.  Did Russell’s parents get my flowers?  What are your plans?

Julie interrupted her.  I haven’t made any yet, Mother, I just got here.  Yes, they got the flowers.  It was an awfully large arrangement.

I wanted to express my sympathy to them.  What an unfortunate accident.  I’ll see you on Friday, I have to run.  Click, she was gone.

Julie unpacked her clothes and put them in the empty drawers in her spacious bedroom.  After putting on a pair of grey sweat pants and a white cashmere pullover, she went to the kitchen to find something to eat.  Since the morning sickness was over for the day, she was hungry.  There was nothing in the fridge except two bottles of French wine and block of Brie.  She opened a few drawers under the marble island, looking for a menu from one of the carryout restaurants.  Her mother must have thrown them out.  She said that kind of food was poison to the soul and mind.

Julie decided that a quick trip to Lucca’s market was what she really needed.  A muffaletto sandwich and a Coke sounded so good to her.  Julie slipped into her tennis shoes and put on her jacket.  She placed her wallet in her pocket and picked up her phone just in case Ava tried to call her.

Downstairs, Carl once again queried her.  Where was she going?  Did she need a car?  She shook her head no and bounded down the steps.  It was a little before six.  If she hurried she could make it before he closed his shop.

Two blocks straight ahead, a left turn and two more blocks put her in front of Lucca’s Deli Market.  The red brick building with the faded green and white striped awning was an unmistakable landmark in the midst of the high-rise apartment buildings and upscale restaurants nearby.  It was considered an eyesore by some of the neighborhood dwellers, but to the people who had lived in the area long before it became the trendy place to live it was respite from trendy food and long waits in cafes.  Lucca could concoct a three-tiered sandwich in less than five minutes and have you on your way to the comfort of your own home.  Over the years, he had been asked by the city council to remove the fake sausages hanging in the window and replace the worn chairs in front of his store.  They could not think of any other reason to evict him from a property that had been owned by his family since 1929.

A dim light shown through the glass door illuminating the ‘closed sign.’  Julie cupped her hands around her eyes and looked in.  She could see that Lucca was still behind the counter.  She tapped gently on the glass.  He looked up, wiped his hands on his apron and came toward the door.  He bowed his head to get a better look at the late shopper and then his face broke into a broad grin.  Lucca unlocked the door and Julie stepped inside.

Ah, my Cara Mia, Miss Julie, so good to see you, he said giving her a big hug.  He smelled of pepperoni and pasta sauce.

I’m so sorry to make you open up, Lucca, but I’m starved.  I am in dire need of a muffaletto and a Coke, she said laughing.

Lucca grinned.  You must be staying at your mama’s place.  She wouldn’t allow that kind of food in her kitchen.  I haven’t seen her in a very long time.  My shop doesn’t fit her taste any more. Is she doing well and you, you look pale.

She’s okay and I’m fine, really.  I’ve been away at school, I don’t get to spend much time in the sun.  Julie spun around and took in the familiar sights in the store.  Gosh, I love this place. She leaned against the counter and watched as Lucca flipped on the light over the meat case and took out a thick roll of bologna and a block of cheese.  And how are you, really?" he asked.

Okay, I guess.  I’ve had better days, but I’m sure I could have worse ones than this.  What’s better than one of Lucca’s sandwiches?

Lucca grinned.  That will always be true.  Bad days will come and go, but my sandwiches are forever.  He let out a familiar laugh as he sliced the bologna.  I need olives.  Can you go get me some from the back?  The jar is on the shelf.  He handed her a plastic container.  And no faces in the mirror, he added.

The large mirror behind the meat counter had been installed as a birthday surprise to Lucca’s father when he began losing his hearing.  He was afraid that customers were in the store and he couldn’t hear the bell over the door.  After the mirror was installed, his father could go to the back of the butcher shop and keep a watch on his store.  After learning how to adjust the lights so that he had a clear view of his shop, he loved the mirror and showed it to everyone who came into his store.  Even after Lucca took over the shop it had always been a source of curiosity to the neighborhood children, including Julie.  She leaned over the counter and stared into the mirror.

Remember when I was a little kid and my nanny would bring me here?  I always thought that mirror was magic.  I couldn’t figure out how you could be in the back of the store and then come out and tell me what I had been doing.  Then that one day you took me in the back and I looked through the glass and I was amazed.  It still took me a while to figure it out.  You know, coming here was always the highlight of my day.  I love the familiar smells and all the good things to eat and you always gave me a hug and put a candy bar in my pocket. She hesitated for a moment, deciding not to tell him why she was really here.

He touched her cheek.  You were always my favorite, he said.  You were always making faces at me when I was in the back.  Those were good times, Julie, when the mirror was only used to make sure my father didn’t miss a sale.  Now, the police told me that I should have cameras on the wall to keep merchandise on my shelves.  Even in this neighborhood, we have people with sticky fingers.  So, I get a camera, but I don’t turn it on.  If people need something that bad, they can have it.  Now go, get me the olives.

Julie took off her jacket, put it on the counter and went through the swinging doors.  A row of sausages hung along the wall next to the freezer.  Circles of fragrant cheeses wrapped in white paper were crowded on shelves in a glass case.  The long counter in front of the mirror was filled with jars and containers holding the ingredients to his delicious concoctions.  She looked into the one-way mirror and stuck out her tongue.  She could hear him laughing.

Julie laid her phone on the counter and took the gallon jar of olives off the shelf. She unscrewed the lid, dipped her fingers into the salty brine and licked them.  Just as she popped an olive into her mouth, she heard someone pounding on the front door.  Wow, someone really wants in.  It’s probably another hungry customer wanting something good to eat and not willing to wait until morning.  She backed up a bit when she heard a loud noise.  Lucca must have dropped something.

There was a short moment of silence and then the sound of glass shattering startled her, and a shot of adrenaline coursed through her body.  Oh, my God, what was that?  Someone is trying to break into the store?  Where’s my phone, I laid it down right here.  She ran her hand across the counter.

Abandoning the search for her phone, Julie quickly moved to the side to get a better look at the front of the store.  She leaned forward and hesitantly peered through the mirror.  Time began to slow as a gloved hand reached inside and fumbled for the lock.  Julie gasped as the door swung open and she heard the crunching sound of footsteps as someone walked across the broken glass.  Another shadowy figure moved through the door and stepped inside.

She jumped back as Lucca’s face appeared in the mirror.  The shop went dark except for the fluorescent light over the meat counter.  Turn the light off.  Get down!  Don’t come out! She could hear the fear in Lucca’s voice. 

She had to know what was going on.  Still standing in front of the mirror, she watched as a beam of light flashed across the floor and then circled the store, stopping just below the security camera.  Julie saw a hand reach up and pull the camera off the bracket as two more men entered the shop.  Stop where you are, I’ve got a gun, Lucca yelled.

Three images emerged from the shadows across the store and appeared in the mirror.  They were all dressed in black and wore hoods over their heads.  A fourth man stayed by the door.

Still watching Lucca, she ran her hand across the long butcher block counter searching for her phone.  Where is it?  I have to call for help.  Her hand touched the jar of olives and slid further down the counter.  Where is that damn phone?

Lucca was shaking as he tried to steady the gun with both hands.  He couldn’t see the men until they were almost to the deli counter.  One of the men circled behind him, and knocked the gun out of Lucca’s hand.  His arm crooked around Lucca’s neck pulling tightly.  Julie could hear Lucca gagging as he tried to free himself.  The man standing by the door pulled down the shades on the front window.  Instantly, an intense icy fear gripped her body.  Frozen in place, she watched as Lucca was released and then shoved hard against the counter.  The man who had been restraining Lucca pulled a knife out of his pocket, its blade glinting in the dim light.  He held the point up to Lucca’s neck as they all removed their hoods.  A trickle of blood ran down Lucca’s neck and saturated the collar of his shirt.  They were speaking in Italian.  Lucca was answering them.  He knew them!  He raised his voice and pushed the knife away from his neck.  They were talking loud, vacillating between English and Italian.

They were in a heated discussion, the knife still very close to Lucca’s face.  Julie recoiled as one of the men came up to the mirror and began admiring his image.  He tilted his head from side to side as he ran his fingers through his thick black hair.  Face to face with him, his dark eyes burned into her memory.  Still staring into the mirror, he began to talk.  You let me down, Lucca.  Montello brought the money and told me you wouldn’t take it.  Why Lucca, why after all this time are you giving me a problem?  Mr. Brown is not happy with me and that makes me very unhappy with you.

Lucca still catching his breath, yelled, I told you last week that I was done with you.  No more, I will not do it ever again.  They will not bring me anymore dirty money.  You get somebody else.  You lied to me.  One of the men grabbed Lucca again.

Oh, God, they’re going to hurt him.  I have to get help.  I must help him.  Julie’s mind was racing, still trying to process what was happening.

Scanning the surface again her fingers finally touched her phone.  Trembling as she attempted dialing 911, she missed the number 9.  Her nerves got the best of her, and the phone slipped from her hand and fell to the floor.

They were talking louder now as one of the men held his hand over Lucca’s mouth to muffle his guttural sounds as the other man landed brutally hard blows into Lucca’s stomach.  She could hear them telling Lucca that he had made a big mistake.  She tried to stay focused, feeling as though her pounding heart was going to pop out of her chest.  Still listening to what they were saying, she crawled around on the floor searching for her phone.

You made a big mistake, Lucca.  You shook my hand.  You said you would do me this favor and I would pay you.  Do you remember?  Now, I’m gonna take that hand as reminder that you don’t back out on Tony.  Her fingers closed around her phone just as Lucca let out a scream and his head hit the mirror.  She raised her head just in time to see Lucca’s blood spattering across the glass surface, a long jagged cut running the length of his face.  She covered her eyes and ducked down again.  This time she hit 911 and the operator answered, 911. What is your emergency?

Trying to keep her voice low, she said, Please hurry.  I’m at Lucca’s Market on Green Street.  They’re going to kill him.  Hurry please.

Who is killing who, Ma’am? Can you repeat what you said?

"God, please hurry, he’s