Series: Fidelia Mysteries #2
Publication date: August 25th, 2026
Synopsis:
Everyone thinks their mother is murder but for mafia-family renegade Lucia Scafetti, that's the literal truth.
When she laid her hitman father to rest, PI Lucia Scafetti thought she'd finally escaped her family's criminal clutches. Ten years later, her estranged mom blows into Philly for a short visit and within days a friend's dad is brutally murdered and Lucia is being menaced by her cousin and his fellow mafiosi. After her mother disappears, everyone: foes, friends, and free agents, descends upon Lucia in search of the thumb-drive her mom stole from a Caribbean drug lord. Lucia learns the hard way that the criminals besieging her will gladly kill to get their hands on that thumb-drive.
With the help of an intriguing ex-soldier, Lucia employs her skills, both detective and deadly, to solve the murder and unlock the secret of that enigmatic thumb-drive before it claims another life, be it her own - or that of her recently re-discovered son.
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"My mom left town on the tenth."
"Got any proof of that?"
"Why? Are you saying she's a suspect?"
"She is definitely a person of interest." He emitted a grating chuckle. "When a woman starts leaving a bunch of corpses in her wake, it's bound to happen."
"What corpses? One corpse."
"Oh, dear." Burkitt stroked his chin, tsk-tsking. "Seems like momma doesn't keep you in the loop about all her victims. It's a shame how families drift apart these days."
"If you're trying to make a point with all of that inane rambling, try again. I don't speak gibberish."
His pale skin flushed red, causing his freckles to appear more prominent as he growled, "I'm talking about the Carluccis. Someone took a shot at the younger one right before your mom showed up here in Philly. She might've missed with that one but she made a bull's eye with the old man, didn't she?"
Though she briefly toyed with the idea of telling the detective that the former accusation was patently ludicrous since her mother never missed a target, Lucia prudently decided to address the latter one. "Big John Carlucci was eighty-seven. He had a heart attack."
"There's ways to kill someone and make it look like a heart attack. Big shot P.I. like you... thought you'd know that."
"Why don't you share that theory with the cops in George Town?" she snickered. "I bet they're working overtime on that mysterious death."
"Maybe I will." His jaw was tightly clenched as Burkitt whipped out a notebook from his breast pocket. "How long was your mother here? Why was she in Philadelphia?"
"She stayed with me from late Tuesday to Saturday morning. She said she was here to take care of some business."
"What kinda' business? Did you know she was here to see Vittorio Gallo?" When Lucia said no, he scowled and snapped, "How 'bout what she wanted to fence... she must've had it on her. What was it?"
"I didn't see her with anything anyone would want to fence, and she never mentioned having something... of that nature."
"Really?" He leaned towards her, looking up to study her face through narrowed eyes. "So... what'd you two talk about all that time?"
"Um... let's see. My house, business, and hair, her cooking, vacations, and dating advice." She offered him a sickly-sweet fake smile. "You know... the usual mother-daughter stuff."
"How nice," Burkitt sneered. "If your mom left town like you claim, then where's she at, right now? And do not give me another 'I don't know', 'cause I ain't buying it." When she stared at him in silence, he snarled, "Are you refusing to cooperate? If so, your precious P.I. license is hanging by a thread."
"You've kind of tied my hands here since I can't answer that question under your current stipulation."
Rolling his eyes, he snorted in disgust. "All right, then. If you don't know where she is, how're you so sure she left town? Did you see her get on a plane?"
"No, she left in a limo."
"Headed where? Didn't you ask?"
"I did, but she wouldn't say."
"Your own mother wouldn't tell you where she was going? You expect me to believe that?"
"Yeah, I do, since you're such an expert on the mob and all."
"And nothing she did or said clued you in to where she might be headed?"
"No. That's how not knowing something works." She gestured towards his notepad. "Maybe you should jot that down."
"Gotta say, you don't sound like much of a detective."
"You took the words right out of my mouth."
He glared at her then closed his notebook with a mean chuckle. "Better than you. I know nothing you've said so far proves your mom left town that Saturday."
"I'm not trying to prove anything."
"But you are trying to hide something... aren't you? Big risk you're taking... covering for your mom like this." He studied her closely for a moment, then cocked his head, announcing, "Last chance to tell me what you know..."
Lucia's only response was a long-suffering sigh.
Thrusting his notebook back into his pocket, Burkitt shook his head. "Suit yourself. Looks like we're gonna have to finish this discussion down at the precinct."
"Sure, let me call my lawyer, so he can meet us there. I think we both know what his advice to me will be."
Burkitt put his hands on his hips. "You wanta' be that way? Fine." He pointed towards the door. "Get the hell out of here. But know this, I've got eyes on you, Scafetti, and if I find out you lied to me, about anything, you're in for a world of hurt. I'm your worst nightmare."
"You, a human-sized cockroach is pretty much anyone's worst nightmare."
FELICIA WATSON started writing stories as soon as they handed her a pencil in first grade. She's especially drawn to character driven tales, where we see people we recognize, people who struggle with their mistakes and shortcomings, acknowledge them, and use that knowledge to grow into wiser human beings.
When not writing, Felicia spends her time chasing after her not-so-brilliant, but darling and beloved dogs, is chased by her truly brilliant, darling and beloved husband, is known to friends and family as an amateur pastry chef, and still finds time for swimming and her day job as a scientist.
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