The Esposito
Series Box Set:
Now you can own
the first three books in the sassy and suspenseful Vinnie Esposito Series by
J.M. Griffin!
By day, Lavinia
(Vinnie) Esposito is a criminal justice instructor at a college in Rhode
Island. By night Vinnie is an amateur sleuth, solving murders while trying to
avoid getting yelled at by her Italian father, her hunky protective boyfriend
Marcus Richmond, and her sexy upstairs tenant, the mysterious Aaron Grant.
For Love of
Livvy (Book 1)
Vinnie
investigates the death of her beloved aunt, and a mysterious box is left on her
doorstep.
Dirty Trouble
(Book 2)
Someone is
stalking Vinnie and that’s just the beginning of her troubles.
Dead Wrong (Book
3)
Vinnie is out to
save her brother from being framed
after a valuable painting is stolen.
Excerpt from The Esposito Series
The front door knocker
rapped twice after the door bell rang. I hustled from the rear deck of the
gargantuan house to answer the summons. Someone seemed impatient, and I was
curious as to who it was. My watch read just after eight o’ clock. I swung the
heavy door open to find my prospective visitor absent.
It was so quiet, the town
ghostly in its seemingly deserted state. Sundays were always lazy days in
Scituate, once church was over. With a glance up and down the street of the
small historic Rhode Island village, neat colonial homes stretched along the
sides of the road in both directions. No one came into view.
On the doorstep, a package
addressed to my recently deceased Aunt Livvy sat wrapped in brown paper. Again,
I gawked up and down the street, but only empty sidewalks and barren roadway
appeared in the waning light. The idea of a jaunt along the main drag entered
my mind. I figured it would be senseless since the street was visible for about
two hundred yards in either direction. Whoever had left the package was gone,
long gone.
An eternity passed, or so it
seemed, while my gaze locked onto the square, little box. Reluctant to touch
it, I decided to call the local fire company to come take a gander. Call me
paranoid, but as a criminal justice instructor, a recent audit of a class on
bomb components remained fresh in my mind.
I quickly stepped to the
living room and grabbed the phone. I dialed the private number of the fire
station up the street. A grunt came across the phone line that could only be
Bill MacNert.
“Hey Nerd, its Vinnie,” I
said. “A package was just left on my doorstep, could you come down and check it
out for me?”
“Sure, you got a secret
admirer or somethin’?” He cackled, as only senior men can.
“Not likely, but you never
know. This package is addressed to Lavinia Ciano, not Lavinia Esposito and is
wrapped in brown paper. Nobody’s here to accompany this little surprise
either.”
“I’ll be right down, Vinnie,
don’t touch it.” He warned.
“Okay.”
Anxious, I paced back and
forth across gleaming hard wood floors in the spacious living room of my newly
acquired colonial. My fingernails tapped the enamel on my teeth as I wandered
to and fro. As irrational as it seemed, I finally leaned against the door jamb
inside the entry to wait for MacNert to arrive.
It wasn’t long before the
limber old guy came into view as he hot footed down the street with a
stethoscope in his hand. This particular piece of equipment wasn’t quite what
I’d expected, but then he wasn’t a bomb expert either.
When he arrived on the
doorstep slightly out of breath, he glanced at the parcel, and then turned
toward me.
“This was just delivered,
you say?” MacNert squinted toward me with wizened brown eyes that twinkled all
the time. It was as though there was a private joke going on inside his head.
“Yeah, someone knocked on
the door, and when I got here to answer, there was nobody around. It didn’t
seem prudent to mess with it, so I called you.”
“You just finished that bomb
class, eh?” He chuckled and then sobered quickly. Since 9/11, everyone took
stuff like this with a serious attitude. While he chuckled, I knew MacNert was
no different.
The stethoscope ends plugged
into his ears, Bill laid its diaphragm on top of the package. Removing it, he
gingerly set it against the sides and listened again. I didn’t make a sound as
he stood and glanced up.
“There’s no tickin’ but that
doesn’t mean it’s not an explosive. You should probably call the state police
barracks up the road. Have them send their bomb guys down for a lookie see,
just to be on the safe side.”
“Geez, I hate to do that.
I’ll feel stupid if it’s a joke,” I whined.
“It’s up to you, but if you
were nervous enough to call me, then you should call them. It’s just my
opinion, Vin.” He stepped over the box and wandered into the entryway. “Got
anythin’ to eat? Wifey’s out of town visitin’ her sister and I’m starved.”
Bill didn’t seem over
concerned, but then again, he hadn’t recently taken a bomb class either. My
eyes never left the box as I answered him. “There’s food in the fridge, help
yourself.”
I’d known the homely man and
his family for years and respected his opinion. Tapping my fingers against my
lips, I called after him, “You’re right. I’ll ring the state police now, but
stick around okay?”
Unwilling to be nailed as
over-dramatic by the staties, I reluctantly punched in the numbers. It was bad
enough that the local cops had bugged the shit out of me for the first month
after Aunt Livvy’s death. They still stopped by now and then, annoying me even
more with stupid questions. Questions to which I had no answers.
After the trooper covering
the desk answered, I explained what I’d found on the doorstep. He seemed
unconcerned until I mentioned my name and address, and then he stated someone
would be down momentarily. The swift change in his manner piqued my curiosity.
I wondered why he’d suddenly capitulated when his initial response had been of
disinterest.
In the living room, I paced
while awaiting the arrival of the state police. Within minutes a sleek, grey
Crown Victoria pulled up to the curb out front and a tall, lean trooper got out.
Broad shouldered and well built, he walked with assurance and a certain amount
of swagger. I stepped into the open door entry and watched him saunter through
the front gate onto the walkway. He stared at the package and then at me.
“Did you call about this
box, ma’am?” Keen hazel green eyes traveled over my face and down my body.
Craggy features, sculpted
from granite, faced me and I felt my blood run hot as the breath caught in my
throat. What was this about? I gazed at him admiring the neat package wrapped
in the trim uniform.
“I did. Bill MacNert from
the fire station thought it would be a good idea since it was mysteriously left
on the doorstep. He checked to see if it was ticking, but it isn’t.”
“Are you Lavinia Ciano?” The
trooper’s glance strayed from the name on the wrapper to me as his eyes showed
a glint of humor and his mouth twitched.
Could that humor be over the
name? I wondered, as I said, “No, my name is Esposito. Livvy was my aunt.” Our
eyes held and my heart pounded. I licked my parched lips and then glanced away.
An oversized van idled up
behind the patrol car and the trooper glanced back. Two men stepped from the
vehicle dressed in heavy gear and acknowledged him. He turned to the lead man,
mumbled a few words and then stared at me again. If this was an action film, I
would have expected Bruce Willis to jump out of the truck announcing he was
about to kick someone’s ass. This wasn’t an action film, but a real life
situation instead.
The two guys angled through
the front gate and hitched their gear as they hauled a peculiar looking lidded
barrel toward the front door. By this time, a few neighbors had taken notice of
the activities. Several people straggled along the sidewalk across the street
to watch.
You’d think it was a
freakin’ sideshow. I smiled and waved. Nobody responded, they just continued to
gawk. A little excitement for them on an otherwise dull Sunday, I guessed. The
trooper stood aside and watched the crowd, but said nothing.
The overdressed bomb guys
corralled the box between them. With delicate finesse they lifted and stowed it
into the metal container, loaded it into the truck and drove off. I stared in
disbelief. Hell, I wanted to know what was in the package. I had a right to
know, didn’t I?
The trooper turned to leave
and I stepped forward.
“Uh, I’d like to know what’s
in the box, if it’s not too much to ask.” My hand snuck up to my hip as my
cocky Italian attitude slid into place.
Tall and Curious stiffened
at my tone and turned to stare at me. It seemed he wasn’t used to being spoken
to in this manner, which wasn’t any big surprise. Women tend to respond
differently to men in uniform, especially a man such as this luscious creature.
Well, not this chick. I teach guys like him all year long and the “I’m so wonderful”
thing gets old fast.
“I’ll be sure to let you
know, Miss Esposito. If we have any questions, you’ll hear from us right away.”
I gawked a moment and my
eyes narrowed. His opened wide in contrast and he waited, his body tense. Maybe
he thought I’d pitch myself off the steps onto his perfectly toned frame and
pummel the daylights out of him or something. It was a thought, but I really
wanted to know what was in the package. Besides, his muscles were bigger than
mine.
In an effort to change
tactics rather than be handcuffed and dragged off to jail, I smiled and spoke
in as nice a manner as I could muster.
“I’d appreciate any
information you could give me officer, since the package was left in such an
alarming way. Should I call headquarters tomorrow?”
His look narrowed. I
suspected he was unsure of where this was headed. There was a moment’s
hesitation before he answered the question.
“Sure, that would be a good
idea.” He gave a nod of the stiff brimmed campaign hat that covered cropped
brown hair.
“All right then. I’ll call
the colonel first thing.” My voice remained light and sweet, and the smile was
charming, at least I hoped it was.
The colonel runs a strict
police force and is a tough disciplinarian with an intense dislike for any
impropriety, implied or otherwise. I’d gleaned that much from the cops in my
criminal justice classes.
A tight lipped smile crossed
his face. I figured he couldn’t decide whether I really knew the colonel or if
this was a ploy. To be truthful, I lied by omission. I hadn’t said I knew the
colonel, I just said I’d give him a call.
“That won’t be necessary
ma’am. As soon as there’s any information, I’ll get in touch with you.” With a
nod of his head, he turned and left.
Don’t you hate that ma’am
thing? It makes me feel old. I know I’m thirty-something, but really.
Bill MacNert stood near the
doorway sucking down a sandwich filled with sausage and peppers. My mother had
sent the food home with me the day before. The smell of rich tomato sauce and
fragrant sausage tantalized my taste buds.
“Guess it wasn’t that
serious then?” Slurp noises preceded a sauce blob that dripped down his uniform
shirt.
I glanced at Bill’s shirt, snagged a tissue from my pocket and
dabbed at the drip.
“I won’t know until
tomorrow, but if I’m the town laughing stock you’re in for it and don’t forget
it. By the way, did you leave me any food?” I chuckled at his expression.
Bill’s guilt ridden grin
assured me that he hadn’t, but he swore that he had. He handed me the empty
plate before he headed toward the fire station. I watched the stethoscope bob
up and down from the back pocket of his pants. He trotted up the street, and I
felt sure the story would make the rounds since Bill was an avid gossip.
The crowd had dispersed, and
I was alone again. Livvy would have had a fit over the whole affair had she
been alive, but I figured there was no sense in being stupid. I act that way
often enough, thank you.
Mystery still surrounded
Livvy’s non-violent death. While the police weren’t forthcoming with information,
the state troopers’ attitude on the phone caused me to reconsider the promise
to my father to not investigate on my own. I wandered through the house deep in
thought over the situation.
Darkness had descended as I
headed toward the bedroom. Changing into a t-shirt and boxer briefs, I climbed
into bed with a notebook. The troopers’ attitude niggled at me. I leaned back
against the pillows scribbling notes about the package delivery. Words ran
across the page as the scene and the trooper came to mind. The trooper’s name
wasn’t on his badge, but I remembered the badge number.
The pad propped against my
knees, my mind drifted over the parcel and the officer’s attitude. Warm hazel
green eyes along with the trooper’s cool manner had drawn my interest. It
wasn’t really just his bearing that caught my attention either and it was a
struggle to stay focused.
Intense eyes sat above a
strong, chiseled nose and firm jaw. I sketched the features onto the pad of
paper. His lips weren’t thin, not too wide, but just right for kissing.
Wondering what it would be like to taste those lips, I gave myself a mental
head slap. A cop is the last thing you want or need, my inner voice echoed.
This voice always echoed dire warnings through my head. It had a bad habit of
doing so at the worst possible moment. Just stay focused on Livvy, I lectured
myself.
Snuggled under the
lightweight blanket, thoughts about Livvy and our life played in my mind.
Muscles relaxed, and I realized I needed to talk to her tomorrow. The graveyard
was about two blocks away from the house. I often went to her grave for a
conversation when I’d become involved in one issue or another. That’s what my
life consisted of, one issue or another. Most of the time the issues were huge,
never mundane, not ever.
I sighed, sniffed the sweet
summer scents that wafted through the open window and wondered how this summer
in Rhode Island would be. The pillow slipped lower and so did I as my mind
wandered over life, the package and my aunt.
