Killer Cannoli (A Terrified Detective Mystery Book 2) (3 page)

BOOK: Killer Cannoli (A Terrified Detective Mystery Book 2)
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A private investigator without much business, so no, I wouldn’t understand.
Instead of saying that out loud, I just shrugged. “Well, your chance has come and gone.”

He picked up my hand and held it. “Give me another one then.” He paused. “After I catch this killer, we’ll—”

I pulled my hand away. “Let’s just see what happens.” For one of the very few times in my life, I sounded aloof. Feeling so proud of myself, I couldn’t wait to repeat my words in front of my mirror.

Despite being disappointed and hurt, I also experienced a teensy bit of relief he hadn’t called. I chalked that feeling to my past devastating romance with my former fiancé, Justin. Nothing like infidelity to sour a girl on relationships. That emotional scar should have healed by now, since it was almost ten years ago. I thought it had, but it didn’t seem so. Not that it mattered now.

Corrigan scowled and when I said nothing more, he stomped off. Trying to maintain my newfound coolness, I sauntered back into the kitchen. Ed had scooted his chair next to Aunt Lena and held her hand. I coughed, not knowing what else to do.

Aunt Lena looked at me and slid her hand free. “The police are gone.”

Now that we could finally leave, I released a heavy sigh. “Aunt Lena, I don’t think you should be alone tonight. I’d have you sleep at my place, but there’s only one bedroom and I wouldn’t wish my couch on my worst enemy. We need to go over to my dad’s and talk to him. He’s been worried about you.” I regretted my words as soon as they shot from my mouth. I wished my brain had intervened.

She put her hands on her hips. “Why?”

I decided to play it dumb. “Well...better he hears about this from us than on the news.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Good try. I know he didn’t like Larry. But Larry was the first guy who paid attention to me…” She put her clenched fist up to her mouth.

I scrambled over and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I feel so bad.” I was set to murmur more inane words, but she gently pushed me away and sniffed.

“I know. You and Frank were just looking out for me.” She wiped her eye-shadowed, eye-linered eyes with the back of her index finger. She grabbed her sweater and shoved her feet back into those tortuous red heels. “I’m ready.”

Ed piped up. “I’ll drive you.” When Aunt Lena protested that she could drive her own car, Ed shook his head. His voice dropped low. “You’ve had a big shock tonight. Better leave the operating heavy machinery stuff to me.”

I plopped down in the backseat of Ed’s car and brushed aside a few crumpled up cigarette packs. “Ugh.” I muttered, trying to find a non-sticky spot to place my feet. “Don’t you ever clean back here, Ed?”

“I’ll do that just as soon as I can look at those old packs of smokes without getting nostalgic.”

I took in a sharp breath. “OhMyGod. You haven’t had a cigarette all night.”

With his right hand on the wheel, he rolled up his sleeve with his left and showed a patch. “Gave it up a couple days ago. Third time I quit.”

Aunt Lena, who’d been silent since she got in the car, spoke up. “My husband, Tommy, quit. Of course that was before they had the gum, the patch, all that stuff.” She paused for a moment and added, “He was a bear for the first month.”

Ed nodded. “Know what you mean. First time I quit, I went cold turkey. Cursed everyone from JR Reynolds to my own grandma. This patch makes it easier.”

I joined in. “I’m glad, Ed. Smoking is so unhealthy.”

He nodded. “Yeah, and I’m way more attractive this way.” He grinned at Aunt Lena. To my amazement, she grinned back.

We arrived at my dad’s house. Ed turned off the car and scurried to open my aunt’s car door. I was left to open my own.

My father came to the front door holding a newspaper in one hand and the TV remote in the other. Upon catching a glimpse of Aunt Lena’s smeared makeup and disheveled hair, he dropped both. “What did he do? I’ll kill him.”

“Someone beat you to it, Dad.”

My aunt put her hands on his arm. “Frank, I’m okay. It’s Larry who’s not.” Her chin quivered like not-yet-set pudding.

I cut in. “Larry’s dead. Murdered.”

Dad hugged Aunt Lena. “But you’re safe.” He pulled away. “You didn’t see who did it, did you?”

“I’ll fill you in, Dad. Aunt Lena, why don’t you go in the house and sit down?” Ed put his hand in the small of my aunt’s back and escorted her into my dad’s home like it was his.

It was April, but in Cleveland, winter can hold on way past its expiration date. Despite my jacket, I wrapped my arms around myself to hold in the warmth. My dad started. “Someone knew Larry and didn’t like him much.  I bet there were a lot of people like that.”

“I don’t think his name was Larry. When I investigated, there was nothing on Larry Walters. I think you were right. Had to be an alias.” Then I gave him a brief rundown of what happened.

My father put his arm around me. “Thank God Lena wasn’t with him when he got killed. Well, it’s a job for the police now.”

“Let’s hope they find the killer soon.” I exhaled hard and could see my breath in the cold air. It disappeared just as quickly, as did my belief that tonight’s events wouldn’t give me nightmares even while I was awake.

As soon as my father and I walked back into his house, he poured Aunt Lena some whiskey. “Drink this. It’ll calm you like nothing else.”

She sniffed it and turned her head. But instead of declining it, she took the glass and swallowed most of it down, coughing and fanning herself after it went down. The four of us talked until Aunt Lena yawned three times in a row and her eyelids drooped. My father touched her hand. “Hey, you’re about to fall asleep. Why don’t you go to bed? The guest room’s all fixed up for you.”

I thought she’d argue, but instead, she grabbed the whiskey bottle. “In case I wake up and think about poor Larry…” She sniffed and clutched the bottle to her bosom.

It was late so Ed and I said quick goodnights and started back to my office. “Ed, thank you. You were great with my aunt.”

He rolled the toothpick he had in his mouth to one side. “Are you kidding? I’d do a lot more for a woman like her.”

My eyebrows shot up. “She’s a little old for you, Ed. You’re what?”

“Forty-eight.”

I held my cold hands up to the car’s heater. “She’s fifty-four.”

He held the steering wheel with one hand and pulled the toothpick out of his mouth, using it to make a point. “I know, but she’s got it all in the right places, and I figure the older the piano, the sweeter the music.”

I shivered. “Never mind. I don’t want to hear this.”

“No disrespect intended. I didn’t mean it in any biblical sense. She’s a fine woman.”

I wanted to cover my ears. Instead I turned on his radio, instantly regretting it. Old timey country music blasted forth with somebody yodeling their heartbreak. I thought we’d never get to my office. Then I remembered there’d been two deaths this evening; Larry and my car, Bob. I hoped one of them could be brought back to life.

It was almost midnight by the time Ed pulled up to my car. He took out a flashlight and fiddled around under the hood. To my gratitude and amazement, Bob coughed a bit and started. Ed wiped his hands on a rag from his back seat and said, “Just don’t shut her off until you get home.”

I clasped his hands in mine. “Thank you, Ed. I owe you.” I wanted to stuff that dirty rag in my mouth for that comment. I already owed him more than I could ever pay him, especially with the no-business business I ran. Too bad I couldn’t pay him in meatballs.

Ed waved off my thanks. “No problemo. Just remember me to Lena.”

I still couldn’t bring myself to think of him and my aunt as a couple. I smiled weakly and got into my car. I could see him in my rearview mirror, waiting. Then I turned a corner and he disappeared, as I wished the events of tonight would. I hoped I’d be able to sleep tonight, but we don’t always get what we want.

Chapter Four

I
t felt like I’d just laid my head down when an irritating noise broke through my dream. First I thought it was a headache. Then I realized the headache was Detective Corrigan pounding on my door. 

“DeNardo, if you’re in there, open up.”

I threw on a robe and brushed my hair away from my face. I pulled it back over my right cheek when I glanced in the mirror and spotted the sleep crease running from my eye to my ear. I cracked the door open but left the chain lock in place. “What do you want?”

He flashed his badge, like I didn’t know he really was a cop.“Police business. Open up.” His voice softened. “Please.”

I reluctantly accommodated and he stepped inside. I clutched my terrycloth robe tighter around me. “Is this about Larry?” I yawned.

He ignored my question and pulled out the small spiral notepad he always carried. “Where were you between midnight and 3:00 a.m. this morning?”

I squinted at him. “Why?”

“Just answer the question.”

I sighed. “Got home about 12:15 and went straight to bed. That’s where I was until you banged on my door.”

“Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts?”

I rested my hands in the robe’s pockets. That, or they would’ve found themselves tightening around his neck. “Sure. All the guys in bed with me. Let’s see…” I looked up, as if recalling. “There’s Channing Tatum, and, uh…”

He held up his hand. “Not funny. This is serious, Claire. Someone broke into your aunt’s bakery early this morning looking for something. A cop interrupted, but he or she got away.” He made a big show of putting his notepad back in his pocket, as if to say, “This is off the record.” He pressed his lips together. “Did you do it, Claire?”

My legs felt like someone clipped me in the knees. I got mad. Somebody had been cruel enough to violate my aunt’s sense of security. Twice. How could he think I’d do something like that? My hands flew out of my pockets, ready to slap him sensible. “Why would I do that?”

He inhaled deeply. “To protect your aunt.”

My eyes opened to the size of fried eggs. “I don’t understand. To protect her from the killer?” My breath caught. Did he think
I
killed Larry?

“Have a seat.” Corrigan motioned to my sofa, but I’d had a lot of liquid the night before.

“In a minute.” I scurried off toward the bathroom.

When I returned, Corrigan was tapping his foot. “You ready to talk now?” He sat down, took my wrist and pulled me down next to him.

Just then my stomach let out a growl so loud it sounded like the circus was in town.

He smirked, but the look I gave him made it clear I’d clobber him if he made one snide comment about it. On second thought, I wouldn’t because he’d put me in jail with some tough people and bad food.

He put his hands on his knees and got down to business. “Someone wants something Larry had. Or should I say, Joey Corozza, aka, Joey the Albino.”

“So my father was right. Larry wasn’t Larry. But who’s this Joey guy and why did he lie about his identity?”

He bit his lower lip, probably deciding how much to tell me. “First, swear to me it wasn’t you who tore
Cannoli’s
apart. I want to make sure you didn’t figure out that Joey left something at
Cannoli’s
and went looking for it to save your aunt any unwelcome visitors. Come on, I’ll take your word for it.”

“I didn’t do it. I swear on my mother’s grave.” I crossed my heart. “Ed dropped me off a little before midnight and I came straight home. I wouldn’t have stopped anywhere on the way because my car pooped out earlier that afternoon. Ed got it started but warned me not to stop anywhere.” Like a beetle in flour, an idea burrowed in my brain. Could Ed have done it?

Corrigan must have read my expression. “Ed’s in the clear. Just so you know.” My eyebrows disappeared into my bangs. He explained, “Apparently he’s a bowling ace at Crown Bowling. Midnight leagues. Six guys vouched for his whereabouts.”

I smoothed my eyebrows. “Did you really think it could’ve been either of us?”

He shrugged. “Not really, but I needed to make sure.”

I yawned so widely my jaw cracked. I needed caffeine and didn’t want to drink alone. “I’m going to make some tea for us. While I do, tell me about this Joey the Albino.” My gut clenched and I was glad Aunt Lena stayed at my dad’s last night.

We sat at the table, his cup of tea getting cold while he filled me in on my aunt’s date, Not-Larry. “He was a small-time hood who, according to the Newark police, worked for Michael Bucanetti, an alleged crime boss. Corozza disappeared a year ago and police thought maybe he’d been stuffed in a trunk of a junkyard car, but they never found a body.”

My mouth went dry thinking how close Aunt Lena came to having an ugly demise. I took a big sip of tea, but it didn’t help. “Because he came to Cleveland and called himself Larry.”

He nodded, drained his cup, and actually walked it over to the sink. His momma trained him well. “Now you know. The guy must’ve had something on Bucanetti and the boss wanted it back. Or at least destroyed.”

Corrigan’s phone rang. “Be right there.” He ended the call, put his phone back in his pocket, and buttoned his suit jacket. “Keep an eye on your aunt. If something happens let me know immediately. I’m going back over to the restaurant.” His tone turned harsher. “But don’t you get involved in this case. This one’s for the big boys.”

“I guess I’m just one of the little girls.” Not that I minded staying out of this mess. An old man barreling toward me with a shopping cart scares me. I sure didn’t want to get in the way of a mobster and his treasure hunt.

I put my hand on my hip and whispered in a husky voice, “Okay, Big Boy. It’s all yours.” To myself I added, as long as my aunt wasn’t hurt. But I didn’t want to hear him lecture me about danger, blah, blah, blah. I’d heard it all before. Besides, I wanted to call my father to keep Aunt Lena at his place as long as he could. Then when Aunt Lena reopened
Cannoli’s
, I’d see if Ed would check in with Aunt Lena regularly, just to make sure she was okay. I snorted, thinking how he wouldn’t mind that at all. My aunt might feel differently, though.

The minute Corrigan left I called my dad. He was usually an early riser, but we’d been there pretty late last night. He answered on the third ring, though, sounding like he’d already had a lot of coffee. “I was just about to call you. The police were here. Someone broke into
Cannoli’s
last night. Soon as your aunt gets dressed, we’re going over there.”

BOOK: Killer Cannoli (A Terrified Detective Mystery Book 2)
6.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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