Killer Cannoli (A Terrified Detective Mystery Book 2) (2 page)

Most of my afternoon was spent searching for something on the man. I made some phone calls but uncovered nothing, not even an actual insurance policy on him. It was as if he didn’t exist or, at least, not under that name. My stomach felt queasy. I needed to get to Aunt Lena before Mr. Also-Known-As met up with her. I tried her cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail.

Right about now, she was probably squeezing her swollen feet into those red pumps she bought last Christmas.

Maybe my dad was right not to believe this guy was legit. Come to think of it, that paleness could’ve been the result of solitary confinement.

I grimaced, realizing I’d have to head Aunt Lena off. She needed to tell Larry Got-No-Past she couldn’t go out with him because of stomach issues— her brother-in-law’s gut feeling about him.

***

I sat in my car and pounded on the steering wheel as if that would make Bob start. But he wasn’t about to give in to threats or pleading. My car was dead, and it didn’t take an autopsy to see he died of old age.

It’d take my father too long to pick me up and go to
Cannoli’s
.  There was Ed, but I hated to call him when I’d just turned him down for any work. With no other options, though, I ditched my embarrassment and gave him a call.

He picked up on the first ring. “Hey, what’s shakin’?”

“Ed, how close are you to my office?” I scrunched up my face and held my breath.

“About ten minutes. Do you have a job for me?” He sounded like a kid who’d just heard the ice cream truck coming down his street.

“Pro bono.”

He groaned. “Fancy words for I don’t get paid.”

“Relatively speaking. Actually, my relative. And I’m sure she’ll pay us back in delicious food.”  The Owl, the greasy spoon Ed likes popped into my mind. Maybe he’d appreciate great cooking about as much as a cow likes Astroturf.

“Okay. If she makes pie, I’m there.”

My heart went back to its normal beat. “Can you pick me up? Car’s dead.”

“You got it.”

I checked the clock again. We could still make it to
Cannoli’s
in time although I dreaded confrontation, which made my job tricky sometimes. But in this case Ed could deal with Mr. Whoever-He-Really-Is. Muscle-to-muscle. Like my former boss, Gino, would say: ‘Only confront if you also have an exit strategy.’ In this case, I hoped Ed was my strategy.

Chapter Two

I
waited in my office parking lot and began to pace after ten minutes. It took Ed twelve to arrive. By now, I envisioned having to separate Aunt Lena from Larry’s rat claws. I shivered. I should’ve talked to the guy. Let him know she wasn’t his type. I called her. No answer. My hands curled into fists and I pounded them together out of frustration.

Ed pulled up and honked. He flung open the passenger door for me. “Sorry, kiddo. Hit every red light getting here.”

Ordinarily, I’d smile and assure him it was fine. But this time, in a thin, high voice: “16543 Center Ridge Road and hurry.” I pointed straight ahead. 

“Hang onto your hat.”

Before I could hook my seatbelt, Ed gunned the motor and we sped off. We took a corner so fast my soul had to run to catch up with my body. I decided it’d be best if I closed my eyes, but they popped open when my phone rang. It was Aunt Lena. My heart lubbed when it should have dubbed.

“Claire.” She voice quivered.

“What’s wrong?” It was only 6:50. Larry couldn’t have stood her up yet, but maybe she had second thoughts about her date.

“It’s Larry.” Her voice rose. “He’s dead.” Her sobs came so hard and fast, I couldn’t be sure she’d be able to tell me much more. But through the breaks in her voice she added, “Shot.”

My hand clenched the phone tight. “Where is he?” I held my breath, hoping he wasn’t anywhere near my aunt or her bakery. I hoped it’d happened in some flea-infested hotel where the other guests were skimpily clothed women and guys named John.

She swallowed loudly. “Here. At
Cannoli’s
.”

Great God. He’d been shot at the cafe. I flashed onto a scary scene in which his blood dripped down the éclairs, like Hannibal Lector’s idea of a tasty treat. “Are you all right?”

She sniffed. “How could I be?”

“I’m on my way there. Call 911.”

“I did. They’re on the other line. Her voice sounded muffled. “Hello, 911 operator? You still there?” Then, “Claire, they’re still on with me.”

I tried to breathe evenly. I’d read that keeps you and the person you’re talking to calm. I didn’t know if it worked over the phone, though. “I’ll be right there.”

Ed continued to floor it and I kept one hand on the dashboard, as if that’d protect me if we crashed.

We swerved into
Cannoli’s
back lot and rushed into the kitchen. Aunt Lena was still on the phone with the 911 operator. Mascara streaked down her cheeks and her wiry hair stuck out in every direction. She looked like the end of an all-night party.

Resting the phone against her shoulder, my aunt clutched my arm. “Police will be here soon.” She chewed a knuckle. “Who’d do this?” Her voice turned thick and tears filled her eyes.  “Yes, operator, I’m still here. My niece just arrived.”

I put my arm around her and whispered, “You didn’t touch him, did you?” That was about as comforting as alcohol on a burn.

Ed walked over. “I’m Ed. Sorry for your loss.”

Aunt Lena waved her hand in which she clutched a used tissue. “Thank you.”

Ed stared at Aunt Lena then looked away, suddenly awkward.

I stepped in. “Ed works with me.”

He stood straight. Sounding like a Canadian Mountie, he added, “I’m here to help, Ma’am.” I thought he was going to salute her.

Aunt Lena wiped her eyes. “Appreciate it.” 

The sound of sirens grew louder and when Aunt Lena explained that the police had arrived, the 911 operator let her go.

Aunt Lena, Ed and I walked into the dining room to meet up with the police. My aunt shivered and then wailed as soon as she spied Larry’s body. If Ed hadn’t been right there, she might’ve collapsed. “Don’t look, Lena,” he murmured in her ear.

Like a nerd to a computer game, my eyes went straight to where Larry sat, his body slumped over. His head rested on the table, his hands limp by his sides. A bullet hole in the middle of his back. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to keep that image in my mind. I only opened them when four uniformed police announced their presence.

Ed muttered, “Let the games begin.”

Chapter Three

M
y aunt started crying again when she explained to the police how Larry came to be at
Cannoli’s
. She’d just finished when another siren sounded and stopped.

My heart stopped too, as I realized Detective Brian Corrigan had been given this case. He strode in, ready to take charge when he spotted me. But his face belonged on Mount Rushmore. Pure stone.

I, on the other hand, felt my face flush and my palms sweat.

Ed had been hovering over Aunt Lena like he was a hen and she was his first egg, but he tore his attention away when Corrigan entered the kitchen. He stuck out his hand. “Hey, glad to see
you
.”

Corrigan shook hands with him. “Good to see you out of the hospital, Ed.” He looked past me and introduced himself to my aunt. “I’m Detective Corrigan. I’m going to see the victim first, but I’ll be back to ask you some questions. Okay?”

She glanced at me and my throat constricted. My poor aunt, who never asked anyone permission to do anything, looked now like a lost child on the first day of school. “Okay.”

Corrigan glanced at me. His startling blue eyes twinkled. “So it’s the famous PI, Claire DeNardo. Is this guy another victim you’ve been hired to protect?”

I wanted to poke my fingers in his eyes. “Lena Antonucci is my aunt. Remember, from the Adler case?”

One of the uniformed cops came in, tapped Corrigan’s shoulder before he could respond to me, and they both exited.

I was relieved he hadn’t had time to make some snarky comment since I’d have no comeback. Even if I had the rest of the day, I’d have no witty, so-theres. I wondered if there was an app for snappy, one-size-fits-all zingers.

After fifteen minutes, Corrigan re-entered the kitchen, his eyebrows knitted. “Are you ready to answer some questions, Mrs. Antonucci?”

She wiped her forehead and blew out a breath. “I’ll do the best I can.”

He pulled out a notepad and a pen from his suit pocket. “Tell me what happened.  From the beginning, please. How did you know the victim?”

Aunt Lena hugged herself and looked up at the ceiling. “He was a regular customer. I’ve known him maybe three weeks. This was supposed to be our first date. That’s all.”

Corrigan stopped writing. “Why don’t you have a seat, Mrs. Antonucci?”

Aunt Lena nodded. “Everyone sit down.”

Corrigan pulled up two chairs. I thought one was for me, but he slid one toward Aunt Lena and he sat in the other. Ed shrugged and slipped into the dining room to get two more.

The detective leaned in. “Okay, tell me about tonight.”

She wiped her hands on her dress and then rested them both on her knees. “He, Larry, I mean, we were supposed to have dinner tonight. At 7:00.” She blew out a breath and bit her lower lip. “
Cannoli’s
closes at 6:00. Told him I’d meet him here. Didn’t want him coming to my place.” She held up her hand. “Not that there was anything wrong with him. You just have to be careful nowadays.”

She cleared her throat and Ed asked, “How about some water?” Before Aunt Lena answered, Ed jumped up like his seat had a spring in it and got her a glass.

She took a sip and thanked him, then sighed. “I got here about 6:45. Unlocked the door to the dining area so Larry could come in. I went back into the kitchen. Into the pantry. Anyway, I heard the restaurant door in front open and figured it was Larry. I called out that I’d be ready to go in a minute.” She drank more water. “The kitchen door opened then and I think he said something like ‘take your time.’ He must have gone back out to the dining room because when I stepped out of the pantry nobody was there. But I heard the restaurant door open again.” She bit back a sob. “So I thought maybe he went back outside for something. I went into the dining room and there he was…” She looked over at me, tears streaming down her face. “Could you get me another Kleenex?”

Before I could move, Ed grabbed the box and passed it to my aunt. She took one and blew her nose hard. “Larry was dead. I called 911 and my niece.” She whimpered into the wet tissue.

I squeezed her hand and checked Corrigan’s expression out of the corner of my eye. He looked down at his notepad so I couldn’t read his expression.
He had to believe her.
When he looked up, his face was all business. “Did you see anyone else? A car? Anything?”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “No. I’m sorry.”

He glanced at his notes. “Did you hear a gun go off?”

Aunt Lena shook her head.

“You said you heard the door open twice. But the victim was alone. Could it have opened once more without you hearing it?”

She thought for a moment. “Maybe. I was running the water.”

“Ok, did the victim say anything prior to tonight to make you think someone had it in for him?  Or did he mention anything about his past?”

She wiped her face with both hands, smearing what was left of her makeup even more. “No.” She looked down at her hands, then up again. “Wait. He told me he’d lived somewhere in the East.”

Corrigan closed his notepad. “Thank you.”

Aunt Lena touched Corrigan’s jacket sleeve and quietly asked, “What will they do with him?”

His eyes softened. “They’re taking pictures and gathering evidence right now. Once the coroner gets here, he’ll do a quick assessment. Then the body goes to the morgue.”

The coroner finally arrived and came into the kitchen to speak with Corrigan. He excused himself and both men exited to the dining room.

 Aunt Lena seemed to shrink into herself for a moment and I scanned my brain for a way to rally her. But it wasn’t necessary since she soon heaved herself from the chair and went to the refrigerator. “Anybody want a piece of chocolate chiffon pie?”

“I don’t think the cops allow anyone to eat at a crime scene and even though he died in the other room, this is still part of the scene.”

My aunt looked crushed. “Sure. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking…” She put the pie away and slunk back to her chair like a kid who’d missed a three-letter word in a spelling bee. She put her face in her hands. We sat in a heavy silence.

The coroner eventually removed the body and the cops put up police tape. Corrigan returned to the kitchen. “I’m sorry to say you may not be able to open
Cannoli’s
for business tomorrow. Crime scene.”

Aunt Lena nodded. “Tuesday?”

Corrigan smiled. “Someone will let you know.”

I added, “Come back here only if you’re up to it, Aunt Lena.” She shrugged. It hurt to see her so cowed, this woman I’d always thought of as being sturdy outside, but polenta inside.

Corrigan handed my aunt his business card. “If you think of anything else, even if it seems small, please call me. If not, I’ll still be in touch.” He shook Ed’s hand. “Good to see you healthy, Ed.”

He waved to me to follow him outside and he closed the door quietly behind us. I didn’t know what he had to say in private, but I knew it wouldn’t be anything I’d want to hear. I was right.

“Claire, I don’t want you playing PI here. Let us handle this case.” Then he looked up at the sky and rested his finger against his cheek. “Funny, this conversation sounds so familiar. Oh, I remember. That’s because we had it with the Adler case.”

I harrumphed. “She’s my aunt. I’ll do whatever she asks. Anything else?”

“That’s it.” He turned to leave then spun around.  “Yeah. Sorry I’ve waited so long to call you.”

“Obviously it wasn’t important or you would have done it.” So much for playing it cool. Why didn’t I just show him a photo of a broken heart?

“I was going to do it first chance I got. I’m busy fighting crime, remember? I’d think a woman in the business of private investigation would understand.”