Bake Me a Murder (3 page)

It took Corrigan ten minutes to arrive, but I think, in that time, Merle aged five years.

I made the introductions.

Corrigan’s nod was curt. He flipped open his notepad. Never a good sign. “Mr. Pokov, this morning you hired Ms. DeNardo to find Coco Sanchez. Is that correct?” I parted my lips and Corrigan pointed at me. “Don’t answer for him, Claire.”

Merle nodded. “Yeah. My cousin, Ed, told me she would be good—”

“You and Ms. Sanchez were lovers?”

“I loved her, if that’s what you mean.”

“Were you aware Coco Sanchez was killed sometime last night?”

“Claire told me.” Merle’s voice quivered.

Corrigan tapped his pen against his notepad. “So Ms. Sanchez didn’t indicate why she needed your help. Do you know of anything she might have been involved in or can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt her?”

“No. I hadn’t seen her for four months.”

“But you still loved her? No hard feelings she walked out on you?” Corrigan watched Merle’s face, which turned the color of a raw steak.

“At first I was hurt. Not now, though.”

“Where were you yesterday evening between nine and one in the morning?”

Merle balled his fists. “You’re kidding me! I couldn’t have killed her. I loved her.”

I extended my hand to pat Merle’s arm but thought better of it. I’m a toucher, but not everyone is a touchee. “Detective Corrigan has to ask everyone involved. It’s better if you answer now.”

“I was home. Alone.”

Corrigan jotted a note. “Can anybody corroborate your story? Did you talk to anyone on the phone, for instance?”

“No. Didn’t talk or see anyone after 8:00. That’s when I called my cousin, Earl and that was after Coco called me. I tried to watch TV until 11:00 then went to bed.” He rubbed his neck.

“And what were you doing before eight? Before both calls?”

“I worked until 6:00. Drove home. Got there about 6:30.”

“Your co-workers could vouch for you being there until then?”

“Sure.” He frowned. “Wait. Only until about noon. Ate lunch and after that, I worked at the south edge of the site by myself.”

“We’ll check it out. Just need you to give me the names and numbers of anyone who can say with certainty they saw you.”

Merle pulled out a business card and handed it to Corrigan. “I work for Delilleo Construction. Terry Dellilleo is my boss. It’s his card.” He hesitated, swallowed hard, and asked, “Can I see Coco?”

“Only next of kin for right now.” Corrigan made a show of reviewing his scant notes. “Anything else you’d like to tell me?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Okay, I’ll be in contact.” Corrigan shut his notepad. “Meantime, if you do think of anything, please let me know.” He pulled out his own business card and handed it to Merle.

Corrigan’s gaze slid over to me. “Claire, I need a few words with you. In my car.”

Without waiting for my response, he began walking, but over his shoulder added, “Goes without saying, Mr. Pokov. Don’t make yourself hard to find.”

I held up my index finger to Merle, indicating he should wait a minute. I scampered after Corrigan, who was already holding his car door open for me. I gave him a questioning look and got in.

Corrigan stuck his key in the ignition and the doors locked.

My voice rose. “What are you doing? We can’t leave. My car’s over there.”

He set his jaw. “If you promise me you’ll drop Pokov as a client and you won’t stick around here with him, I’ll let you get out.”

“Isn’t holding me against my will illegal?”

“Look, he’s the prime suspect in this murder case. I don’t want you in the middle.”

Corrigan had Merle figured as the killer, with Eric’s information supporting the detective’s opinion. Granted, Eric’s statement warranted further investigation, but shouldn’t slant a premature conclusion even further. Only one thing for me to do.

I pressed my lips together hard to stop myself from rushing my words. I had to be smart and choose them with care. While backing out of the case would be the wisest thing to do, I couldn’t believe Merle had killed the woman he loved. He seemed like a sincere guy and Ed had nothing but praise for his cousin. I couldn’t let Ed down. I had to stay on this case at least until Merle was cleared. I took a deep breath and steeled myself for battle with Corrigan.

“I’ll leave, but Merle isn’t guilty. I can’t just drop the case because you want me to.”

“If evidence points to someone, there’s a good chance they’re guilty. Can’t you be logical for once?”

I leaned my elbow on the padding beneath the passenger window. “That’s not logic. That’s jumping to conclusions. You can’t just pronounce your opinion as truth and call it logic.”

Corrigan glared at me and the vein in his temple danced. “I should have known you’d be pigheaded about this.”

I gasped. “I might be pigheaded, but you’re acting like horse’s ass.”

He pressed his palms into the top of his thighs. “Great way to keep a relationship going, DeNardo.”

I bristled. “Relationship? There’s no relationship. We had three dates. The last of which you ducked out early.”

“I’m a cop. Sometimes that happens. You didn’t seem to mind it at the time. Not that I’ll be inconveniencing you anymore with dates cut short.”

I crossed my arms. “That’s fine with me.”
Really? Was it?
I needed to get away before I said something I’d regret, or that would get me arrested. I grabbed the door handle.
“Can I get out now?”

He blew out a breath and unlocked my door. “I’ll wait here until you drive off.”

I got out and didn’t look back.
How dare he call me pigheaded?
I was angry and hurt. I should have known better than to let a man into my heart. I should have kept the ‘Justin Incident’ in mind. Justin, my fiancé for four years who, after grad school, dumped me for a skinny, blonde dental hygienist. I shook off the memory. Best to concentrate on business, and right now, Merle’s fate was my business.

My hands felt glacial and I shoved them in my pockets. I approached Merle who once again sat on the curb. I needed to tell him about Eric’s statement. “I’m sorry, Merle. I can’t stay here but before I go, there’s something you need to know.”

“More bad news?”

“A witness says he talked to Coco yesterday and claims she said she was on her way to see you.”

He jerked. “That means—”

“That you could have been the last to see her alive.”

His jaw dropped. “That I killed her? But I didn’t! I was at work all day and didn’t even see her.”

I reassured myself Ed hadn’t recommended me to a killer sociopath. “Just the same, you may want to talk to an attorney.” From the corner of my eye I caught Corrigan getting out of his car. My time was up with Merle. “Look, I’ve gotta go.”

Merle grabbed my wrist. “You don’t think I did it, do you?” He remembered himself and let me go. “Sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Too late. Corrigan was barreling forward, fists clenched. I had to hurry. Out of the corner of my mouth I whispered to Merle, “Meet me at the Clifton Coffeehouse in fifteen minutes.”

Corrigan’s voice boomed, “Weren’t you just leaving, Claire?”

“Yes. Yes. Right now.” I hurried to my car, hoping Merle had heard me and Corrigan hadn’t.

I sat in the coffeehouse nursing a hot chocolate, playing the conversation between Corrigan and me over and over. Of course each time I did, I grew more righteous.

Merle dragged himself in and ordered a coffee, which he didn’t touch.

Best to get this over with.

“Merle, you asked me if I thought you killed Coco. My opinion isn’t as important as what the cops think.” I almost added, ‘and the jury’, but that’d spook him for sure. “We need to find who
did
kill Coco. Do you know of any enemies she had here?”

“She complained about her neighbor at her apartment, but then she moved out.” He thought a moment. “No. I can’t think of anyone who’d want to hurt her. And I don’t know any lawyers. Never had a need for one.”

I had a cousin on my mother’s side, Anthony, who was a lawyer. If someone asked me what kind, I’d tell them, “The sleazy kind.” Of course, I wouldn’t recommend him, but didn’t know any others either. Still, I wanted to help. “I’ll get you the name of an attorney.”

“If you think I should have one.” His shoulders slumped.

When we parted company, I called someone who could recommend a good criminal attorney. Alex Carpenter, fair-haired, handsome, straight-as-an-arrow CPA whose uncle was Michael Bucanetti, an alleged crime boss in Newark. Although Alex claimed he kept away from any shady activity, I figured he knew the names of lawyers who defended the local thugs.

My call went into his voicemail and I asked him to call me back at his earliest.

While waiting, I checked messages on my office phone. One from Hank Dorkowsky, reminding me of my doggie doo-doo surveillance. Like I could forget agreeing to hide nearby at night and digitally capture the offending dog that pooped on his lawn. Hank could do the task himself for free, but I guessed he would rather someone else humiliate themselves. Now I wished I’d turned the job down. As soon as Dorkowsky had walked into my office, with his AC-DC tee-shirt barely covering his belly, I took a dislike to him.

After I finished this pooper caper, I promised myself no more animal cases, but since I’d taken his down payment, I’d go through with it.

I planned on dressing incognito. Nobody needed to know about this lowly assignment.

The other message on my office phone came from my father, sounding like he’d just heard a good joke. “Hey, Pumpkin. It’s your dad. Could you do me a favor and call Gino on his cell phone. Seems Casanova abandoned the Miami ladies and followed one to Tampa. But it was a no-go.” Dad’s voice turned serious. “He’s kind of low right now, so maybe hearing a friendly voice could help. Thanks.”

I groaned at the request, but family is family, including Gino. Plus, the guy did hire me when I really needed a job and left the business, such as it is, to me. Most of the time Gino’s heart is in the right place, but his temper can get him in trouble. Like with the Workers’ Compensation faker Gino punched. Wasn’t long after that Gino retired to Miami.

While I looked up his number, I idly wondered if my former boss liked Tampa. From there, the idea hit me as hard as a five-day-old bagel. If I could convince Gino to do some digging in Tampa, he might uncover why Coco died in Cleveland. Worth a try.

First, I’d offer my condolences and see what he needed. I would not share with him my father’s amusement. Everyone has the right to be a fool for love at least once.

He picked up on the first ring. “Gino? It’s Claire. How are you doing?” I wanted to keep it light and let him open up to me.

“Hey! It’s great to hear from you. Listen, mind if I give you a ring in say, fifteen? In the middle of something important. Ya know how it goes.”

“Sure, Gino. Whenever you can.” I squinted, my curiosity aroused.

I sat at my desk and leafed through the notes I’d taken on Merle and Coco. Twenty minutes later my phone rang. Gino.

“Sorry for that. Some guy was bustin’ my ba—uh, giving me a hard time over a parking space. Geez, you’d think this was Miami Beach instead in Tampa.” He blew out a breath and continued. “Maybe your dad told you I moved to Tampa. Not the place for me. Pretty city, and most people are nice here, but not my kind of action. Can’t go back to Miami yet because of this condo I’m renting. I’d lose my shirt leaving now.” He let loose with an embarrassed chuckle. “But I’ll get back to Miami soon as I can. The women are pining for me there. Now, enough about me. How’s business?”

How lucky is this?
I suppressed a laugh.
That was probably what Mrs. Lincoln thought when she got tickets to the Ford Theatre. “As a matter of fact, I got a case this morning. Missing person. The woman’s name was Coco Sanchez and she was a dancer in Tampa at a place called The Venus Trap.”

“I know that place.”

Of course he did.

He coughed softly. “Pass it every day. Want me to get some background on this Coco chick?”

“Yeah, and here’s the tricky part.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “She was murdered.”

“Sweet mother of Jesus! Branching out the business, huh?”

“Sort of. So far my client looks like he’s going to be a ‘person of interest’. I think he’s innocent. During the time Coco was in Tampa she was in a relationship with an ex-con named Federico Carreras, Rico for short. Could you find out the whole story?”

He sighed and I thought he’d turn me down. “When do you need it?”

“ASAP.” I asked the big question and winced even before hearing the answer. “How much do you want for doing it?”

“You expect me to take money from you? You’re Frankie’s kid, for God’s sake and my, what’dya call it, protégé.”

“Come on, Gino. I didn’t work for you for free.”

His words came out in a slow fashion and I imagined him adding up figures. “Shouldn’t take me long. Let’s say $100 and call it good.”

I didn’t have that kind of money, but maybe he’d take a postdated check. “Okay. You’re great, Gino.”

“Not everyone thinks so. I’ll call you when I get the lowdown on Coco.”

“Be careful, please.”

He chuckled. “I can still take care of myself.”

I hoped we both could.

My stomach growled and I thought about getting something to eat before going on my doggy-doo assignment. Alex calling put my hunger on the back burner. A smile spread across my face even though I reminded myself it was business. “Hi, Alex. I appreciate you getting back to me so soon.”

“Not a problem. It gave me an excuse to call and something to look forward to.”

“Glad you feel that way, but this is about one of my clients who could be in real trouble. I’d hoped you’d know the name of a good, but affordable, lawyer. I hope you don’t mind me asking.”

He released a deep breath. “So, because I’m Michael Bucanetti’s nephew I must know hundreds of lawyers who defend lowlife criminals?”

The pitch of my voice rose. “No, that’s not it. You know my cousin, Anthony, so I thought you might—”

He chuckled. “It’s okay, Claire. I’m not offended, but maybe I should be. Tell you what. If you have dinner with me tonight I’ll ignore your faux pas and put together a short list for you.”