Jailhouse Glock (18 page)

“I was going to tell her about you tonight, but I got waylaid. I guess no harm was done. I'll get her now, and we'll head out for some supper so you can enjoy your home-cooked meal.”

“There's plenty for everyone,” he said. “Besides it will give me an opportunity to thank you for letting me stay upstairs. I have a pretty good lead on the investigation, and I'm hoping I'll be able to get out of your hair sooner than I thought.”

All of a sudden a light bulb went off in her head. Jake said he worked for Harold's of London. Was it possible that he was the insurance agent who had made contact with Chrissy about a finder's fee? But if that were true, what did he mean by having a pretty good lead? If he was the one who made the offer to Chrissy about the stolen necklace, it was logical to believe his job would be over with now that she was dead. Then she remembered Colt mentioning that the offer of a finder's fee may have been Chrissy's killer's way of getting into her house. She had to find out what he meant.

She took a deep breath and plunged right in. No sense beating around the bush. “Are you investigating the theft of an emerald and black diamond necklace?”

His face registered surprise before he recovered. “Why would
you ask that?”

“Because I talked to a woman yesterday who said she was contacted by an insurance agency about a finder's fee for that necklace. That same woman was found murdered this morning.”

“Chrissy Rockford's dead?”

Bingo!
She hadn't mentioned any names, and yet he knew.

“So you did contact her?” She was about to ask him if he had
any
thing to do with her murder but decided his surprise at hearing she was dead had been genuine. She prided herself on reading people, and if he had killed her he wouldn't have been able to pull off the total surprise that took over his face when she'd told him.

He hesitated momentarily, as if deciding whether to tell her the truth. She was about to fire another question at him when he responded. “I called Chrissy the day before yesterday and made plans to meet her at her house. I've been authorized to offer her a sizable amount for the return of that necklace.”

“What did she say?” Maddy asked, watching his body language to see if he would lie.

“I never got to talk to her. There was an accident on Main Street that held up traffic for thirty minutes or so. By the time I got to her house, no one was there.”

Maddy gave it some thought. He must've arrived at the woman's house right after Mrs. Witherspoon had given them the note with Bernardi's address. She decided to go fishing to see if he'd tell her the truth. “Whose necklace is it?”

He shook his head. “They don't give me details like that. I'm on a need to know basis. All I know is that someone wants it back very badly and is willing to give up the insurance money to get it. I was sent here from San Antonio because my boss got information that someone from Vineyard was trying to fence it. I'd hoped to get a chance to talk to Bernardi, but we both know how that worked out. So I did the next best thing and found out his girlfriend's name. Figured he might have talked about it under the sheets one night.”

“How'd you get her name?” She was beginning to get an uneasy
feeling about this man, but she couldn't stop herself from digging fur
ther simply because there was a slim possibility that he had information she didn't.

“Probably from the same place you did. The good old boys at Cowboys Galore were more than willing to fill me in. All it took after that was one phone call and the mention of money, and Chrissy was all over the offer.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Is that why you rented my upstairs?”

“I have to admit it entered my mind that you might have information about the necklace,” he admitted. “But it was more about me needing to stay close to Bernardi's girlfriend.”

Maddy pondered that for a moment, then debated with herself
whether to tell him about Bernardi's safety deposit box or the fact that the man was really Joey Agostinelli, ex bean counter for the mob. Her police instincts warned her to keep that information to herself
for now. Despite her feeling that Jake was exactly who he said he was—an ex-cop now working as an insurance investigator to recover a necklace—she wasn't about to arm him with facts about the case if it turned out her gut was wrong.

“So now what? Will you head back to San Antonio?” She couldn't help worrying about how she would pay her lawyer on Friday if she had to return most of the money Jake had given her for rent.

“Probably. I'll call my boss later tonight and find out exactly what he wants me to do now.” He must've noticed the look that crossed her face because he added, “A deal is a deal, Maddy. The money is yours whether I live here the full two months or not.”

Just then Jessie popped her head out. “Mom, hurry up. I'm starving. Jake promised me extra meatballs.”

Maddy considered insisting they would go out for fast food when she noticed Jake setting the table with three plates. Her instincts continued to scream for her to stay away from this man, but when she saw her daughter bound out of her bedroom and plop down at the table, she gave in. What would it hurt if they ate one meal with their new tenant?

She still didn't fully trust the guy, but the smell of the sauce plus her daughter's excitement was too tempting to pass up. Jessie was right. They had been eating a lot of pizza lately, and a home-cooked meal sounded delightful. After they'd found Chrissy's body there hadn't been time for her and Lainey to grab lunch. All she'd had to eat all day was the breakfast sandwich and the apple. Her stomach chose that particular moment to growl as if to let her know it was well aware of that fact.

She pursed her lips to keep from smiling, then sat down opposite her daughter. Nothing more was said as Jake dished up the spaghetti, then turned his back on them to open the oven and pull out a tray of garlic Texas toast. For the first time she noticed how narrow his waist looked in his tight jeans, deciding his entire backside didn't look too shabby, either. And at least for now, the little voice in her head critiquing her mothering skills was gone.

When he finally sat down with his own plate, she took her first bite and nearly moaned. It was that good. As she swirled the pasta around her fork, she decided, if necessary, she could always throw his cute little butt out of her house tomorrow.

nineteen

Maddy woke up the
next day in a good mood. Maybe it was the fact that there was now evidence to prove she wasn't the only one who could have killed Agostinelli. Sounded weird calling him that.
Even weirder thinking of him as an accountant with the balls to not
only run off with millions of the mob boss's money, but also to snag
a prize necklace belonging to the man's wife on his way out.

But if she was being honest, she'd have to admit there was another reason for her good spirits. Last night after devouring Jake's fantastic spaghetti dinner, they'd all sat around and talked for over an hour while he did the dishes. Said it was his treat and wouldn't even let either her or Jessie get up from the table to help.

It had warmed Maddy's heart to see her daughter having so much
fun with him. Jess was born three months before her father was killed
in Afghanistan, and since that time, her Uncle Colt had been the only
true male figure in her life.

When Maddy was finally alone with her daughter in the bedroom,
she had been surprised to hear her babble on and on about Jake. If it hadn't been a school night she would've probably given in to her pleas to stay up for one more hour.

When Maddy had returned to the kitchen, she'd thanked Jake
again
for the dinner. A niggling twinge of guilt for calling him a
drunk
earlier played in her mind, and she tried to find the right way to address it.

Truth be told, he'd been on his best behavior all night, and for that she was grateful. She'd almost hated to think of him leaving so soon even though he'd assured her she could keep the money he'd paid for the rent and deposit. If circumstances were different, she wouldn't even entertain the idea of keeping his money, but she was desperate.

Despite all the new information pointing to reasonable doubt in
her case, her trial would still go on. And Anthony Pirelli was stopping
by in an hour for his retainer, among other things. Discount or not, the man didn't come cheap.

She promised herself she'd send Jake a refund check as soon as her bottom line looked a little better. She and Jess had already been
living on frozen dinners and five-dollar pizzas for the past month. A few more weeks of that wouldn't hurt anything, except Maddy's
waistline.

That's why the spaghetti dinner the night before had tasted so good.

She found herself humming while she fixed Jessie's breakfast and brewed herself a cup of coffee. Just as her daughter was finishing her
cereal, Jake walked in, looking like he'd just stepped out of the shower.
Immediately Jessie's face lit up.

He eyed the box of Frosted Flakes in front of the ten year old. “Got
any more of that?”

Maddy was surprised he hadn't commented on her daughter's
unhealthy breakfast. She nodded. “Want a cup of coffee and a banana
to go with it?”

He bent down and wiped a dab of milk from Jessie's chin before sitting down opposite her. “Absolutely. How did you know Frosted Flakes were my favorite?”

“They're mine, too,” Jessie said, her smile so wide Maddy thought her lips would split. What was it about this man that had her daughter mesmerized?

For the next ten minutes while they ate, Jake quizzed the child on the state capitals, and to Maddy's surprise, Jessie didn't miss a single one. Apparently his little trick had worked.

After she saw Jessie to the school bus and came back into the house,
Maddy snuck a quick glance at the clock in the living room. She had thirty-five minutes before Tony Pirelli and his legal team were scheduled to arrive for a full day of strategizing. She couldn't wait to tell him about the latest developments in the case.

“I spoke to my boss last night,” Jake said as soon as she walked into the kitchen. “He wants me to stay in Vineyard a few more days to see if I can work with the cops on getting the necklace back to the rightful owner. Will that be a problem?”

“You've paid me for two months. Why would two days be a problem?”

He held her stare. “I think last night turned out okay, but I get the feeling you'll be glad to get me out of your hair.”

She licked her dry lips. “About last night, I'm sorry. I overreacted. All I could picture when I saw you with Jessie was the masked man who—”

“What masked man?” he interrupted.

She drew in a deep breath and expelled it slowly. The paper hadn't
reported her story about the cell phone in the drawer the night Agos
tinelli was killed, and she was unsure if she wanted to get into this with
him. But something in his eyes, now so full of concern, made her trust
him, and she told him the whole story.

“Jesus!” he exclaimed. “No wonder you went ballistic last night.” He lowered his voice as if Jessie was still close by and might hear. “And you're positive your daughter has no idea about all this?”

“Neither she nor her grandmother knew anything about it until it was over. I was the one who scared them to death when I called and freaked out.”

“I would've done the same thing.” He got up from the table. “So do the police think Bernardi's murder was a professional hit?”

“Agostinelli,” she corrected before she caught herself. She hadn't meant to say that. The dead man's mob connection had not been made pubic knowledge yet.

“That explains a lot,” he said, after a moment. When she questioned
him with her eyes, he responded, “I keep up with the news, especially
when it's about the cops catching a bad guy. I've heard his name men
tioned along with a gangster from New Jersey who's getting ready to go on trial for murder.”

“It seems our dead guy was in protective custody until a few months ago,” Maddy confirmed.

“So, I'm guessing the client looking for the return of the necklace is said gangster from New Jersey?”

She nodded. What did it matter if he knew? He would be leaving for San Antonio in a few days anyway. She felt his intense stare, and she looked up. “I'm sorry I called you a drunk last night.”

A slow grin crossed his face. “You were right. I am a drunk, but I've kept my promise not to indulge myself while I'm in your house. Now that I've met your daughter, you can be certain I'll keep that promise.”

“I read all the reviews on you, and from all indications you were a decorated homicide detective.”

His eyebrows hitched as he met her stare. “Still checking up on me, I see.”

“Seriously, after what I just told you about the armed stranger standing over my daughter while she slept, do you blame me?”

“No,” he admitted. “You would have been remiss not to have fully vetted me.” He stared up at her. “What else did you find out?”

“Not much other than what you've already told me about your partner being killed. Things seemed to fall apart for you after that.”

His short laugh held no humor. “You could say that.”

“I can't even imagine how I would feel if my partner was killed. What happened at the drug bust?” She knew she was skirting dangerously close to none-of-your-business territory, but she couldn't stop now.

This time it was his turn to breathe deeply and slowly expel it. “My partner wasn't just killed. It was my screwup that cost him his life.”

She watched as he lowered his head and realized that this was still very painful for him to talk about. “Is that when you started drinking heavily?”

“Alcohol was the only thing that kept me sane.”

She took a step toward him and patted his shoulder. “We all have our demons, Jake. Sooner or later you're going to have to forgive yourself.”

He moved away from her touch as if it was a hot iron. “Easier said than done.” He tried to smile. “I'll just go upstairs and let you get on with your day.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. My lawyer's bringing his legal team here in about an hour. We'll be working on my case for the rest of the morning.”

“Then I'll definitely stay upstairs. I have a lot of paperwork that will keep me busy. Unless you prefer I take my work down to Starbucks while they're here.”

“Your choice, although relaxing at Starbucks would probably be much nicer than being stuck in the room the rest of the morning.”

He laughed. “You've convinced me. I'll just grab my things from upstairs and head that way.” He turned and started up the steps. Halfway up, he stopped and faced her. “I can't believe anybody who knows you could think you're capable of killing a man in cold blood.” Then he walked the rest of the way to his room.

When she heard his door close, she felt an overwhelming empathy for the guy. Knowing you were the reason someone was dead was bad enough, but if that someone had been a friend, it had to be much more painful. She vowed to cut him some slack his last few days as her tenant.

Once the house was empty, Maddy put on another pot of coffee and waited for her lawyer. He called to say he was bringing doughnuts, but there was no way she could eat anything. She didn't know why her stomach was doing flip-flops right now. Everything seemed to be going her way, for a change. She had the ten thousand dollar check ready for Pirelli and new information that should make his job easier. So why was she suddenly feeling so apprehensive?

She jumped when the doorbell rang.

Better get that, sis. High dollar lawyers don't like to be kept waiting.

She glanced over her shoulder to see Tessa padding behind her to the door.
“So you finally decided to show up.”

What do you mean finally? I was with you and Lainey all day yesterday. I pop in when you need me.

“And why would I need you today? I'm just going to go over the facts of my case with my lawyer.”

Tessa grinned.
Okay, you got me. This appearance is strictly sexual in nature. I wanted another look at that gorgeous hunk who's gonna save your ass.

Maddy eyed her suspiciously. “So you can control when you show up.”

No, but for some reason the powers that be must have thought you needed me today. The eye candy on the other side of the door is
just gravy.
Tessa hitched an eyebrow.
Better let him in. Time is money
with these guys.

Maddy opened the door, surprised to see that Pirelli had only brought two other people with him, both of whom looked young enough to be college students. When he said he was bringing his team, she imagined it would consist of six or seven seasoned lawyers
all working together to find the evidence that would prove her
innocence.

As if Tessa read her mind, she said,
Guess ten grand doesn't buy you much nowadays.

Tony Pirelli pushed the door open and walked in. “Let's set up in the dining room,” he instructed his assistants who were each carrying a box of files. They followed him to the dining room table and sat down.

“Maddy, this is John Rocha and Betsy Morgan. Both are fourth-year associates and very good at what they do.”

After shaking hands with them, Maddy went to the kitchen to prepare a tray with coffee and the fixings. After placing it on the table, she opened the hutch drawer and pulled out the check. When
she handed it to Pirelli, he looked surprised, as if he hadn't really be
lieved she could get that much money together in so short a time.

But he quickly recovered and smiled. “Thank you. I'll get the ball rolling on hiring a few private investigators to dig for information in places we can't.”

When everyone had a steaming cup of coffee in front of them, they made small talk while they feasted on the doughnuts. Maddy grabbed
her own cup of coffee and sat down opposite her lawyer, ready to scream, “Eat the damn food and let's get on with it.”

She took a quick breath to try to settle her nerves. Finally, Pirelli removed several file folders from the box in front of him and motioned for the others to do the same.

“We've been concentrating on who else wanted Bernardi dead. We're all in agreement that a reasonable doubt verdict will be easier to pull off than trying to explain away the evidence against you.” He opened the folder and lifted out a sheet of paper.

Before he could explain what it was, Maddy interrupted.

“Agostinelli's girlfriend was murdered yesterday, and Colt—
Sheriff Winslow—has proof that she and the dead guy were working some kind of scam.”

“Agostinelli?”

She was getting ahead of herself. She poured another cup of coffee
and leaned back in her chair. Then she told him everything she knew about the dead man's mob connections, as well as the information she had about the alleged scam he and Chrissy had been running on married men. She fully expected him to react positively to the news and was puzzled to see his face scrunched in deep thought instead.

Finally he spoke. “So the sheriff thinks this may have been a mob
hit?”

She nodded. “There's a man in New Jersey about to go on trial for murder. The Feds were counting on Agostinelli's testimony to put him away. I'd say that's a pretty powerful motive for wanting to silence the guy, wouldn't you?”

For the first time since she'd started telling the story, Pirelli smiled.
“Without a doubt. This just may be your ‘get out of jail free' card.” He turned to his assistants. “Check with the New Jersey Attorney General's office and find out what's going on.” He twisted back to face Maddy. “Do we know the name of this New Jersey man?”