Chapter 20

“VIEWERSHIP,” snarled Carmela, curled on the chaise lounge in her apartment. “This whole crappy werewolf stunt was about luring in viewers and advertisers. Kimber Breeze, idiot that she is, thought she'd try to scare me to death. Or scare me into giving some ridiculous interview that would hustle up more interest in her stupid werewolf story.”

“She almost succeeded,” said Ava. She was focused intently on Carmela, trying to force-feed her a praline.

Detective Babcock was watching both of them with slight amusement. After he'd transported Carmela home and withstood the onslaught of two welcoming dogs, he'd hustled across the courtyard and narrated the whole sordid scenario to Ava. Ava, of course, had been overcome with worry and rushed right over to take care of Carmela.

“If you can't eat a praline, cher, at least try a chocolate chip cookie,” urged Ava. She'd dug some cookies out of the frozen depths of Carmela's freezer and had already wolfed down half a dozen of the frozen discs herself along with a glass of Chardonnay.

Carmela shook her head. Now that she'd harnessed her anger, she was trying to make it work to her advantage. “I'm not in a sugar mood, what I want is . . .”

“Something salty?” asked Ava. “How about a nice chocolate-dipped pretzel?”

“I think what she really has a taste for is revenge,” said Babcock mildly. They were all seated around Carmela's small dining room table. Boo and Poobah had picked up on the tension in the room and were now dancing and snorting at their feet, vying for attention.

“Not revenge, but justice,” said Carmela, finally able to focus her thoughts. “I want to take very specific legal action against Kimber Breeze and WBEZ-TV.”

“Can she do that?” Ava asked Babcock. He was amusing himself by paging through one of the glossy gossip magazines Ava had left at Carmela's.

“Sure,” Babcock responded. “In fact I wish she would.”

“How would she do that?” asked Ava.

“The police have already made an arrest, so that's the beginning of a criminal action right there. Now Carmela is free to launch a civil suit, too.”

“So she needs . . . what?” asked Ava. Then answered her own question by saying, “A lawyer, I suppose.”

Babcock nodded. “That would do the trick.” He turned the gossip magazine slightly, squinting at the centerfold story.

“Do you have a lawyer?” Ava asked Carmela.

Carmela shook her head no.

Ava pulled the boat-neck collar of her yellow knit shirt down over her shoulders as she thought for a moment. “You're probably not gonna like this, cher, but Shamus is the one with good connections to lawyers. Heck, there are probably dozens of lawyers just hanging around that big old bank of his. Working on their briefs or tort or whatever it is lawyers work on.”

“Rattling their sabers,” muttered Babcock.

“Yeah, probably,” Carmela responded. “But, Ava, I really don't want to get Shamus involved in this. I don't want him poking his big nose in anything.”

“I understand that,” said Ava. “You don't want to be personally involved with Shamus any more than you have to. The man is a skunk and a cad and a philanderer. But I see this as a completely different issue.” She grasped Carmela's hand, gazed anxiously into her eyes. “You could have been seriously hurt tonight, cher. If you don't take some sort of major action right away, Kimber Breeze could continue with her bizarre tricks, maybe hurt somebody else.”

“Good point,” said Babcock. He'd lobbied to call Shamus in the first place and had been immediately shot down by Carmela.

“You think?” asked Carmela.

Ava nodded. “You said you want justice. Shamus and that big old bank of his have got plenty of money to buy you some good old-fashioned justice.”

“It's the Southern way,” added Babcock.

“You think I should call him,” said Carmela, ignoring Babcock's remark.

“Yes, I do,” said Ava. “Appeal to the gentleman that's buried within him. Get him to ride to your rescue like a knight astride a white horse. Besides, Shamus is already ticked off at Kimber Breeze for putting his little door-kicking performance on TV. So he's probably motivated.”

“Aha,” said Carmela. Deep down, she knew Ava was right. Shamus was a self-proclaimed take-charge dude. Her little incident tonight would be infinitely appealing to him. “I suppose I should call him now.” “There's no time like the present,” said Ava.

Carmela sighed. “All right. You win.” She got up, squared her shoulders. “This is gonna take a while. You two gonna stick around?”

They both nodded. Babcock reached for another magazine.

“Okay,” said Carmela, heading for the bedroom where she'd have a little privacy. “Wish me luck.”

SHAMUS WAS OUTRAGED. “YOU WHAT?” HE screamed.

“Got chased,” Carmela told him again. “By a werewolf. Stalked, really.” Shamus, she was beginning to believe, suffered from AADD, adult attention deficit disorder. More and more, she had to repeat things to him.

“And you hit him with what?” barked Shamus.

“A pitchfork.”

“A pitch pipe?”

“Pitchfork,” shouted Carmela. “You know, like a devil carries.”

“Devil?” said Shamus. “Like in the devil?”

“Have you been drinking?” asked Carmela. “Or have squirrels just been gnawing your phone line?”

“No,” said Shamus, huffy now. “It's just such a bizarre story.”

“Of course it is,” said Carmela. “The thing is, will you help me? Can I count on you to sic one of your good old boy lawyers on Kimber Breeze and her scummy TV station?”

“Hell yes,” said Shamus, always up for a good squabble. “I've been itching to get back at those assholes. I'll phone one of my attorneys tonight. Probably Dewayne Jeffson. Dewayne's one tough sumbitch. He'll be burning up the lines to WBEZ as well as the FCC.” “That's exactly what I was hoping for,” said Carmela, heartened now. “Thank you, Shamus.”

“You're welcome, darlin'.” He paused. “You know, this shit wouldn't happen if we were still together.”

“Sure it would, Shamus. It'd just be different shit.”

“Don't say that. We had a good thing going. Still could if we wanted to.”

“Shamus ...” pleaded Carmela.

“Hey, honey, are you really okay?” he asked. “Physically, I mean.” A note of interest crept into Shamus's voice. “Maybe I should come over there, babe. Spend the night. Offer a little husbandly companionship and comfort.”

“Your offer is duly noted,” said Carmela. “But not accepted.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” said Carmela.

“I TOLD YOU,” SQUEALED AVA. “SHAMUS TO THE rescue!”

“Excellent,” said Babcock, once Carmela revealed the full outcome of her talk with Shamus.

“Shamus's lawyer to the rescue,” corrected Carmela. “Big difference.” She started to yawn, tried to suppress it, wasn't very successful.

“You're tired,” said Ava. “I better toddle off.” She stared pointedly at Babcock. “You coming too? Detective?”

“In a minute,” he told her.

Now Ava was hesitant. “Well. . . okay. I suppose.” She paused at the door. “Call if you need me, Carmela. Or if you just want to jabber.”

“Night night,” said Babcock.

“What?” said Carmela, once Ava had finally left. “What?” “A couple things,” said Babcock. “And then I'll get out of your hair.”

Uh-oh, she thought, then stared expectantly at him.

“We can't find Santino anywhere.”

“Why are you bringing that up?” Carmela asked.

“Because it's all related,” Babcock explained patiently. “Giovanni working at Ava's shop. Santino's disappearance. WBEZ's werewolf fiasco tonight. It's like an intricate Chinese puzzle.”

Carmela sat in silence for a few moments. Then she said, “Giovanni told me that Santino was going into hiding.” She pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “But I don't know where.”

“I hate to tell you this,” said Babcock, “but when people go into hiding, that's generally a sign of guilt.” He rolled up one of Ava's gossip magazines, the one that said “Angelina's New Love” on the cover in forty-eight-point type, obviously intending to take it with him.

“I'd be in hiding, too,” said Carmela, “if the cops thought I murdered someone.”

“Look,” said Babcock, pushing his chair back from the table and getting to his feet. Boo and Poobah immediately stuck their furry muzzles against his knees, hoping for a final ear tug. “All I'm saying is it's great that you're a nice and generous person who cares about Giovanni and Santino. But you need to be careful. How well do you really know these brothers, anyway? Why are you putting yourself at risk for them?”

“I didn't know I was,” stammered Carmela. “Until tonight.”