Page 91 of The Deadly Candies

"Man here to see you,"she said, each word measured."Carmine Bonanno. Says he's from New Orleans—showed me his badge."Her lips pursed."Don't you be long, now. Work ain't gonna do itself."

"No'mam.”Kathy's throat tightened.Carmine.She remembered him from before—that sharp suit, those dark eyes that missed nothing. What business did a New Orleans lawman have chasing Janey all the way to Mississippi?

The parlor door creaked as she pushed it open. Carmine stood by the window, his silhouette cutting a clean line against the sunlit fields outside. When he turned, the light caught the angles of his face—that Sicilian complexion darker than most white men's, his hair slicked back neatly like any city gentleman's.

"Miss Kathy.”His voice was smooth as aged whiskey, that New Orleans accent rounding his words just so."Appreciate you takin' the time."

Kathy didn't move from the doorway."Ain't like I got a choice, Mr. Bonanno."

A faint smile touched his lips, not quite reaching his eyes."Suppose not."He gestured to the worn armchair."Won't keep you long, though.”

She sat slow, back straight, fingers knotted in her lap. The upholstery sighed under her weight.

Carmine settled opposite her, removing his hat with careful hands."You favor Janey,"he said after a moment."Specially round the eyes."

"Why you huntin' her?"Kathy's voice came out harder than she meant."I told you all I knew last time."

"I believe you did."He nodded, fingers tracing the brim of his hat."But Janey... she's got a way of twistin' the truth when she runs. The story she gave you—the one you passed to me—it's the tale she tells herself to keep movin'."

Kathy's pulse jumped."I don't?—"

"—understand?"Carmine's smile turned weary."Course you don't. But here's the plain truth, Kathy. Janey's my wife."

The words hung between them, heavy as the Delta heat. Kathy choked out a laugh."That's a lie."

"Is it?"His dark eyes held hers, steady."Your aunt ever tell you 'bout the cherries?"

Something cold crept up Kathy's spine.

"Summer of ’37,”Carmine continued, voice dropping low."Janey baked me a pie. Smelled like heaven—right up till the cramps hit."He touched his stomach absently."Turns out cherry pits, ground fine enough, make a man real sick. Took three days to stop shakin’, bleedin from my mouth and ass. Then came death. Let Janey tell it, I died twice and came back. Scared the shit of her. I just wouldn’t go down. Near death for the third time when your mama came down from New York. You were just a babe, maybe four or five. Playing with your dolls while Janey and Brenda nursed me."His jaw worked."Asked Janey why she saved me after tryin' to kill me. Know what she said?"

Kathy couldn't look away.

"God says he's mine.'"Carmine's laugh was rough as gravel.“Confined to a wheelchair for a year. When I was able to stand and eat solids again, I married her in Paris two years later. Figured if I was gonna burn in hell, might as well do it proper and let Janey send me.”

“My mama don’t know you,” Kathy said in horror.

“Oh she do. Yes sir. I would come to see Brenda praying. Holding a crying Janey, or screaming at her for using the Poison Cherry on a police officer who insulted her.” Carmine gave an amused laugh. “Your mama was afraid if I died they’d hang Janey for killing a man of the law. Thing was. Janey and her didn’t know I wasn’t the law. They didn’t know the Mafia or Sicilians. They just feared white men, no matter what they came wrapped in.”

The parlor walls seemed to press closer. Kathy swallowed against the dryness in her throat."Then why's she runnin' if she in love with you enough to save you?”

Carmine's expression darkened."Daniel Mitchell. Politician out West. Janey put a bullet in him last month. Strayed away from her recipe. First man she killed without the poison. And they law lookin for her.”He pulled a yellowed newspaper clipping from his pocket—Senator's Murder Shocks Community—and slid it across the table."This time, it ain't just some back-alley crook. This time... they'll hang her, or put her in the chair.”

Kathy's fingers trembled against the newsprint.Like King Redmond.The thought came unbidden.Like Daddy.

"She'll head for Harlem,"Carmine said softly."Same as you. When she finds you..."He leaned forward, the scent of bay rum and something medicinal clinging to him."Tell her I can still fix this. Tell her—"His voice broke, just for a second."Tell her I forgive her."

He stood, adjusting his hat with steady hands despite the pain Kathy saw in his eyes. At the door, he paused."Oh—and Kathy?"That Sicilian accent curled around her name."Ask your mama 'bout what made Janey that way. It ain’t the Elliots. It’s what happened to her when she sent her to Jackson. That trauma split her in two. There’s the Janey we love, and then there’s another Janey. The one who is always looking for revenge. Ask her... ask her how many men need to die before she help find Janey and get her somewhere I can help her."

“Are you going to go to New York, to find her?” Kathy asked.

He sighed. HE put his hat on his head. “I wish I could. Still got the poison in me. Can’t take too much of the long distance. But, she always comes back to me. I’ll be waiting in New Orleans.”

Then he was gone, leaving Kathy alone with the clipping and the droning cicadas outside. The heat pressed down, thick with secrets.

The clipping talked about a white woman. The picture they had of Janey could be anyone. But she knew it was her aunt. And she believed the Bonanno man wanted to help her.

What did Janey want in New York?

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