Jailhouse Glock (17 page)

“Asleep?”

“Seriously, Colt, how many men do you think can be on the receiving end of oral sex and lie perfectly still?”

For the first time since he arrived, Colt smiled. “You've got a point,
Maddy. So Chrissy picks a guy up at the bar and entices him into going to Bernardi's place where she slips him a Mickey—possibly a roofie. Then right off the bat, she and Bernardi rob the dude before getting all his personal information. My guess is the pictures start showing up in his mailbox soon after that, and the poor schlep doesn't even remember getting mind-blowing sex.” He stared at the other pictures.

“Do you recognize any of the others?” Maddy asked.

Colt shook his head. “But I'm damn sure going to find out who they are. All five of them, Foxworthy included, would have had a helluva motive to kill both Bernardi and his partner in crime.”

“Do you think these guys are locals?” Lainey asked.

“Probably out-of-towners on a business trip. Bernardi was smart and would have stayed away from the men who might recognize the address and come back later to make sure the pictures didn't get out,” Colt said before looking up. “We went through Chrissy's purse and didn't find these photos. After Mark and his team finish up back there, we'll tear this place apart, but from the looks of it, the killer has already done that. And if I'm right, he probably has the photos, the camera, and any computer the pictures might have been saved on.”

“So we're lucky we were able to get these snapshots yesterday, right?”
Maddy said, proud of herself for making copies on her phone.

He grinned. “As much as I hate to admit it, you two
snoops may have just cracked this case—or at least given us another angle to pursue. Good job.”

Maddy and Lainey high-fived, but the elation was short-lived when
Colt said, “Having said that, your sleuthing days are over, Lainey. It's
getting too dangerous.” He turned his attention on Maddy. “If you ever want to work as a Vineyard cop again, it would behoove you to butt out of this investigation. Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” Maddy responded. “But I've always known you to be an honest man, Colt, and you gave us your word you'd tell us about the necklace after we told you what we knew.”

“I do owe you that, I guess,” he said. “But first I have to tell you a little story I learned from the Feebs just this morning.”

Maddy's head shot up. “The FBI is involved?”

“Yes. It seems there's a guy in New York, Nicky Cavicchia, who's about to go on trial for murder and racketeering. Apparently, his bookkeeper—a guy named Joey Agostinelli—absconded with what is rumored to be a hefty chunk of change before turning states evidence against Cavicchia. The guy I talked to said ten million was the figure being tossed around, but since these kinds of businesses never really report their illegal earnings, they can only go by what a few of their snitches have reported.”

Both Maddy and Lainey looked confused. “What does this have to do with the necklace?”

“I'm getting to that, Maddy, but you have to know the whole story to understand it.” He glanced down at his watch. “I need to make this fast because I'm meeting one of the Feds in an hour.”

“How did Bernardi end up with the necklace that was stolen
from the Mafia guy?” Lainey asked leaning forward with interest.

“It looks like besides the money, Agostinelli made off with a one-of-a-kind necklace that Cavicchia had specifically made for his young sexy wife out of emeralds and rare black diamonds. I've been told it was insured for two million.”

“No wonder the insurance company is willing to pay a finder's fee to get it back. But I still don't understand how Bernardi got his hands on it,” Maddy said, rubbing her forehead as if she had a killer migraine.

“That's what my meeting with the FBI agent is about,” Colt said, glancing quickly at his watch. “It seems Gino Bernardi was missing from protective custody.”

“Get out of here,” Maddy said, jumping from the chair. “Why
would the government protect his sorry ass?”

“Because his real name is Joey Agostinelli.”

eighteen

“Holy crap! So Bernardi,
I mean Agostinelli, was a mobster and turned on the head honcho?” When Colt nodded, Maddy threw her arms in the air. “Now it's all beginning to make sense,” she said with a grin.

“According to the Feds, Gino Bernardi made off with millions of Cavicchia's money and then got real chatty about his boss's business
practices,” Colt explained. “Given that Bernardi was executed
gangster
-
style in his cell, I'd say your lawyer should have no problem
establishing reasonable doubt, Maddy. Cavicchia certainly had
motive
to silence the Judas in his organization.”

Maddy let out an audible sigh of relief. “Oh thank God. Now I can come back to work and get on with my life.”

Colt shook his head. “I'm afraid that's not going to happen just yet. Knowing Bernardi's death was probably a mob hit and proving it are two different things. Until we find the real culprit and charges against you are dropped, or worst-case scenario, it goes all the way to trial and a jury of your peers exonerates you, the suspension with pay stays in place.”

Maddy huffed. She knew it wouldn't be that easy, but for a minute, she'd allowed herself to hope. “So what can we do to help?”

Colt whirled around to face her. “You must not have heard me a few minutes ago. Nothing's changed except for the fact that we now have a new lead to follow. Proving Bernardi—or should I say Agostinelli—was killed by professionals who just waltzed into the squad room and shot two prisoners while you conveniently waited in the ladies' room is not going to be easy.” He tsked. “Especially since they got rid of everything that ties them to coercing you by using your daughter.”

“I know, Colt, but I might be able to get information out of people if they don't think I'm a cop.”

“Why can't you just look at this as a paid vacation, Maddy? Spend some time with Jessie and maybe even find a hobby. Lainey was just talking about a new pottery shop opening up across from the mall. You always liked that kind of thing. Didn't you?”

“Seriously, Colt, do you honestly think I can make bowls while my life as I know it hangs in the balance?” She blew out a frustrated breath before adding, “Now get Patrick Swayze to come up behind me and caress my neck while I'm making pottery, and we're talking a whole different scenario.”

His eyes reflected a glint of mischief. “You have Tessa. She doesn't have Swayze's six-pack abs, but she can certainly massage your neck while you're playing in the mud.”

Humor was never his longest suit,
Tessa said.
But I have to say the boy is at least acknowledging that I'm here. And for the record, I have pretty damn good abs.

His face turned serious again. “Whoever killed Chrissy isn't playing games, Maddy. And we don't have a clue where to start looking. If the order for the hit came from New Jersey, the killer is probably long gone, but I still can't see the logic in killing Agostinelli's girlfriend. Unless they're totally unrelated. The background check on her revealed she was born and raised in Lubbock. Even went to Tech for two years before moving to Vineyard. From all indications, Joey Agostinelli only met her about two months ago, probably about the same time he landed in Vineyard to hide out from the Feds.”

“She knew about the necklace,” Maddy blurted. “Could it be that they tortured her before they killed her in an attempt to find it?”

Colt shook his head. “There are no signs of trauma on her body that I could see, at least not from the initial look. But the money is still out there somewhere, and that's a pretty good incentive to push the woman around to get details. The M.E. may find bruising on her abdomen, or some other trauma to her body, but until he tells us that's what happened, we're going to assume it didn't.” He scratched his forehead. “My guess is whoever killed her marched right in and shot her in the chest, probably surprised her in the bedroom while she was sleeping.”

“So you don't think she told the killer where the money or the necklace is?” Lainey asked.

“She probably didn't know. Like I said, Agostinelli may have been running a scam with her, but I doubt he'd trust her with the knowledge about where he'd hidden ten million as well as the necklace.”

“She said he was shopping it to foreign buyers on the black market,” Maddy said, noticing that Tessa was being really quiet for some
reason. She looked in that direction with a questioning look, and Tessa
responded with a shrug.

“That would explain how Cavicchia got wind of where Agostinelli was hiding. He probably knew that sooner or later the guy would
have to put out feelers, so he sat back and waited patiently.”

“When is his trial?” Lainey asked.

“It was supposed to be several months ago, but his hotshot law
yer keeps delaying it by filing motion after motion. When Agostinelli
slipped away from protective custody, the trial was put on hold. His testimony was crucial to the federal prosecutor, and now that he's dead I suspect their case will fall apart.”

“What about the insurance agent who called to offer a finder's fee?
Wouldn't he have a pretty good motive for wanting to get the
necklace back to Cavicchia and avoid paying the two million?”
Maddy asked.

“We'll be checking to see what company insured Cavicchia and find out if they made contact with Chrissy,” Colt said. “That could have also been the killer's way of gaining access to her without arousing suspicion.” He paused to nod to a CSI tech leaving the scene. “No matter how this turns out, I'd say the case against you is looking weaker by the minute, Maddy. Now if I can just convince you to sit back and wait while I do
my
job, I'm sure this will all be over before you know it.”

“Chrissy told us the necklace is in Bern—Agostinelli's safety deposit box. She found the key in his freezer,” Maddy said, slowly, staring intently at Colt's face to see his reaction.

“Why didn't you say that in the first place?” Colt turned to Rogers. “Find out where Agostinelli did his banking, and then get over to the courthouse and get a warrant from Judge Williams. We need to have a look into that box.”

_____

Maddy was still on a high when she headed home with her sister.
Chrissy's death and finding out that Agostinelli, AKA Bernardi, was
actually on the run from a Mafia godfather was the best news she'd heard all week. It meant someone else had a powerful motive for wanting the man dead.

She'd made a split second decision not to tell Colt just yet about the notebook she'd taken from Chrissy's purse. For one thing, he would have chastised her for taking it because it was illegally obtained and none of the information in it could be used in a court
room. The prosecutor would call it fruit of a poisoned tree, or some
thing like that. And next, the names in there could simply be people Bernardi thought were important and not victims as she'd imagined when she'd first seen them.

When she pulled up in front of her house, she spied a black
pickup
parked out front.
Crap!
In all the excitement of the day, she'd forgotten about Jake Matthews moving into her upstairs. She glanced down at her watch before swearing under her breath. It was almost six, and Jessie would have been home for over an hour already.

A little voice in her head screamed “bad mother” as she realized her daughter had no idea a perfect stranger was now living in their house. She hoped finding him there hadn't freaked her out.

“Looks like the tall sexy cowboy is settled in,” Lainey commented before winking. “I would love to come in for another look at him, but I'm afraid Colt would have a hissy, thinking we were off snooping again. He's so worried that we'll ignore his commands to butt out of his investigation and do something stupid, he would probably send out a police car to escort me home. We aren't going to do that, are we?”

“Butt out of the investigation or do something stupid?” Maddy
asked, glad to see the conversation turning away from her new tenant.

“Both. We do have to be a little more careful not to get caught, though.” Lainey leaned in and high-fived her sister. “Call when you get a minute later on. I want to hear all about Jake's first night, especially if he ends up sleeping downstairs.” She hitched her eyebrows several times and tapped an imaginary cigar in a comical gesture meant to imitate Groucho Marx that made Maddy laugh out loud.

“Get out of here. After the way I grilled him, he'll probably stay as far away from me as he can get—which is fine by me. I just hope he didn't give Jessie a scare.”

Lainey got out and walked to the driveway where her own car
was parked. Maddy waved as she watched her sister pull into the street
and head home. Then she drove her Honda into the garage and turned
off the ignition, thinking tonight would be another take-out pizza night for sure since she hadn't had time to stop by the grocery store. The annoying little witch screaming “bad mother” made another appearance in her head.

The first thing she heard when she opened the garage door was the sound of Jessie laughing. She smiled to herself, thinking she'd worried about her for nothing. The kid was amazing and had great friends who liked to talk on the phone as much as she did. She probably hadn't even realized there was another person in the house.

Then she heard Jake's voice, although she couldn't make out what he'd said. It was immediately followed by a burst of laughter from both of them.

Oh my God!
The man was in the kitchen alone with her ten-year-old daughter.

She flung the door wide open and stepped into the laundry room between the kitchen and the garage. Immediately, the smell of something cooking hit her nostrils. Nearly running now, she entered the room, and both Jessie and Jake turned with smiles still on their faces.

“Hey, Mom,” Jessie began. “Jake's helping me with my homework.”

Maddy glared at him. “Oh he is, is he?”

“And he's making homemade spaghetti and meatballs. Doesn't it smell awesome?”

Maddy continued to stare at Jake, who at least had the decency to wipe the smile off his face while waiting for her to say something.

When she didn't, he took a step toward her. “I hope you don't mind. I decided to make my mother's famous meatballs.”

“And you thought it was okay to come down to my kitchen and be alone with my daughter?”

“Mom!” Jessie said. “He was only helping me with my homework.” She turned to him and giggled. “I'll never forget the state capitals ever again, thanks to him.”

Maddy forced herself not to scowl at her daughter. “Sweetie, will you let me have a minute alone with Mr. Matthews? You can finish your homework in your room.”

Jessie huffed before picking up her books and notepad. “Okay, but don't take too long. I'm starving,” she said, before shuffling down the hall to her bedroom.

When Maddy heard the bedroom door close behind Jessie, she turned to Jake. “What in the hell were you thinking? That it would be okay to spend time alone with my daughter when I wasn't at home? Our agreement gives you the right to sleep upstairs, Mr. Matthews, nothing else. Nowhere does it say you're allowed to fraternize with my ten year old. I know you're a drunk. How do I know you're not a pervert, too?” She knew that was unfair, but all she could think about was what could have happened if he was.

His face registered the hurt at her accusations, and he held her stare for a few minutes before speaking. “First of all, let me assure you that I am abiding by your ‘no drinking while in this house' rule. Second, in no way, shape, or form was my attention to your daughter
sexual. I get why you're upset, though. When she got home and found
me in the kitchen, I should have introduced myself and gone back upstairs. But she's such a great kid and before long she was telling me about what a hard time she was having memorizing the state capitals. I only taught her a little trick my mother showed me. I'm sorry.”

Maddy took a slow breath before walking over and lifting the lid on the spaghetti sauce. It did smell divine. “We never talked about you using the kitchen,” was all she could come up with.

“Again, I'm sorry. I'm tired of eating out, and I thought I'd make my mother's sauce. Figured that would keep me away from fast food for a few days at least. Frankly, I had forgotten that you'd mentioned a minor living here, so when your daughter found me in the kitchen, I was just as surprised as she was. She said you would probably bring home a pizza, and she was sick of eating that. I know I should have minded my own business, but she arrived hungry in the middle of
my cooking, and I offered to share. Under the circumstances, I hoped
you wouldn't mind. End of story. I had no idea you would react the way you did.”

Since this was the first time she'd rented out part of her house, she wasn't up on the rules and therefore, hadn't discussed them with him. She really couldn't fault the guy for assuming the kitchen was part of the deal. And he really hadn't done anything to Jessie except make her laugh. Still, the memory of the masked gunmen standing over her daughter's bed was vivid in her mind and was enough to
make even the most innocent contact with Jessie suspect in her mind.