Page 7 of The White Picket Fence

“Well, ithasbeen twenty years,” Mrs. Gargano said, excusing Charlotte’s rudeness.

Twenty-four, Charlotte thought,but who’s counting? “Still. You were so kind to me back then. So good to Tino.”

“You were both good kids. It was a pleasure having you both in my home. Tino’s still part of our lives, of course. He and Cliff are still best friends and he’s godfather to my granddaughter. Cliff and Sonya’s baby is only ten months old. They tried for years to get pregnant and had given up long ago. Then...well, miracles happen.” She patted Charlotte’s hand. “Remember that, honey.”

“Miracles like my aunt recovering? If she gets pneumonia, that’s not good at all.”

“No, but we’ll work hard to keep it from getting that bad. Can I ask you a personal question?”

Charlotte stiffened. “You can ask.”

“The cane. Hip or leg?”

“Both.”

“Sleeping in that plastic chair can’t be good for it. I’ll have a better chair brought in so you can get some rest.”

Charlotte waited for more questions.What happened to your hip and leg? How did it happen? Who did it? What did you do to provoke him?

But no more questions were asked, and after a moment, her shoulders relaxed. “Thank you, Mrs. Gargano.”

She winked. “You can call me Marian now. I’d say you’re of age.”

I feel ancient.But Charlotte made herself smile. “Marian. You’re still very kind.” She looked over her shoulder to the room her aunt occupied. The need to know about Tino Ciccotelli’s life warred with her unwillingness to seem too curious. Need to know won out. “I didn’t expect Tino to become a police artist.”

Marian chuckled. “Me either. Tino’s been doing work for the police for...my goodness. It’s been nine years. Started doing some sketches for his brother Vito, who’s Homicide.”

Charlotte stared. “Vito Ciccotelli is a cop?”

“An important one. Solved a serial killer case nine years ago with some help from Tino’s sketches. Maybe you read about it? The killer’s name was Simon Vartanian.”

The name was familiar and the details she remembered sent a chill down her spine. “I think I read about it in the news. I didn’t know Vito and Tino were involved.”

“Well, they were. Both of their careers kind of took off then. Tino travels all over the country doing sketches for police departments and private investigators. He’s got a real gift.” Her eyes widened. “And here he is.”

Charlotte turned to see Tino approaching, sketchbook under one arm. “Mrs. Johnson gave me a little information,” he said, “but not enough for a decent sketch. I’ll come back in a few hours for more. Her pain is just too great right now. She wasn’t able to speak toward the end of our interview. She needs her meds.”

“I’ll see that it happens,” Marian promised. “Charlotte, why don’t you get something to eat? You’ve been in your aunt’s room for two days and the night nurse said you didn’t leave to eat.”

Tino turned to frown at Charlotte. “You need to eat. Come on. I’m starving too. We’ll get an early lunch.” He leaned over the desk to kiss Marian’s cheek. “See you later, Mrs. G.” He took Charlotte’s arm, gently steering her toward the elevator.

“I can’t just leave Dottie,” Charlotte protested, pulling her arm free.

Tino released his hold immediately. “She wanted you to take care of yourself. That was the last thing she told me before the pain took over. She knows you haven’t left her side, and she’s worried. Let’s go eat, and I’ll bring you right back. We won’t even go far. I promise.”

Charlotte looked back at the nurses’ desk. Marian was speaking to Dottie’s nurse and the two of them looked up, both giving her shooing motions.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “But just fast food. I can’t take too much time.”

Tino scoffed. “I thought you became a chef.”

“I did. And how did you know that?”

Tino had the grace to look a bit abashed. “I looked you up once, years ago.”

“Well, I’m not a chef anymore, and I need to eat quickly.”

Tino pressed the button for the elevator. “I know just the place.”

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