Yesterday's Stardust Read Online Free PDF Page A

led to a gunshot.
    A cold clamminess circled her mouth. Her fingertips tingled. She needed food.
    Vito’s car door creaked as it opened. Through the red and gold of B RACCIANO lettered behind iron bars on the front window, she spotted a small table facing the street. A perfect vantage point. After reshaping her ponytail, she looked around, hoping no one was watching. She still had the guilty feeling she was doing something wrong.
    Fresh paint and the neon sign seemed to be the only updates the outside of the restaurant had experienced in decades. On the second story, each tall, narrow window had its own wrought-iron balcony.
    A bell dinged overhead as she opened the door. The rich scents of oregano, sausage, and fresh-baked bread intensified her hunger.
    Dani surveyed the red-walled room crammed with tables covered with checkered tablecloths and surrounded by black-lacquered chairs with red cushions.
    The thin, long-legged girl walking toward her with a stack of menus under her arm looked to be in her late teens. Her nametag read “Renata Fiorini.” Anger snapped in dark, red-rimmed eyes smudged with mascara. As if she’d been crying. Black hair, short in back, hung over one eye. Half moons of silver decorated each ear. She wore a short black leather skirt with a wide zipper up the front and a white button-down blouse.
    “Welcome to Bracciano.” She pronounced it Bra-CHA-no, and her tone was anything but welcoming. “One?”
    “Yes, please.”
    “Over here.”
    “Could I sit right there by the window?”
    The girl slapped the menu on the table. A button slipped open at the top of her blouse, revealing a tattoo in the hollow above her collarbone. Reddened edges indicated fresh work. Dani stopped a gasp as she stared at the stretched and warped 7.
    The girl tugged at her shirt, her face pinking as she turned away. She walked to the far side of the room and returned moments later, blouse buttoned, face once again pale. She smacked down silverware rolled in a napkin and a glass of water. “You ready to order?”
    Dani smiled at the menu she hadn’t opened. “Do you have calzones?”
    “Yeah.”
    “What kind?”
    The girl sighed. “Spinach or sausage.”
    “I’d like a spinach calzone, please.”
    “Anything to drink?”
    “Just water.”
    Without even a nod, the girl walked away.
    Dani walked to the restroom. She splashed cold water on her face and neck, hoping for some revival. The eyes that stared back at her from the small cracked mirror above the sink looked older than the image in yesterday’s paper. Victory no longer tasted sweet.
    She dried her face and turned, catching her image in a full-length mirror on the back of the door. Smoothing the front of her rumpled peasant blouse with a damp hand, she tightened her abs and pulled her shoulders back. The smocking on the shirt she’d found at her favorite resale shop allowed the fabric to flow over her hips, concealing the fact that she hadn’t been to the gym in three weeks. She thought about brushing her hair or refreshing her lipstick, but that all took effort, and she wasn’t going to be seeing anyone tonight who cared what she looked like. Snapping off the light, she opened the door then walked back to the table.
    A lamp glowed in the downstairs apartment across the street. Dani began to let herself relax. If China came home she’d have to turn on a light, and Dani could see windows from two of the upstairs rooms from where she sat. She pulled out her legal pad and pen, drew a slanted 7 then scribbled it out. The tattoo, the emblem on the shirt in the bathtub—gang signs. She’d heard of the Sevens. And they weren’t the only gang in the Swamp.
    What am I doing here?
    A rush of angry Italian from the kitchen slammed over her question. A male voice followed by the waitress’s, equally harsh. Thanks to Vito’s frequent peppering of Italian, Dani could pick out a few words.
    A minute later Dani’s order smacked the table in front of her.