Killer Cannoli (A Terrified Detective Mystery Book 2) Read online

  “Now why would you think I’d know someone?” Before I could stumble through an answer he added, “You think I’m connected?”

  “You were a defense attorney. I thought maybe you’d run across someone…”

  I envisioned him waving away my explanation. “Are you sure you want to get involved in this? These guys play rough.”

  “I appreciate your concern. But I promised Aunt Lena I’d at least try.”

  He sighed. “Okay. For her. You remember Cicarelli’s Pizza on Mayfield Road?”

  I closed my eyes recalling the place. “Didn’t it close?”

  “Yeah, but the oldest son reopened it. Anyway, tomorrow night at, say, 7:00. Get there and ask to see Albert Valcone. Wear something sexy.”

  I grimaced like I’d just smelled spoiled milk. “Sexy? I don’t want to be his girlfriend; I’m just looking for some information.”

  “Yeah, but if you want him to give you the time of day, put on a dress.”

  I still had my misgivings, but swallowed them, along with my pride. “Okay. Then what?”

  “Then you don’t mention me if he asks how you found him.”

  “Fine. I’ll tell him the scent of his cologne drew me into the place.”

  “Hey, you wanna screw this up, go ahead. It’s your funeral.” He huffed, “Play it cool and don’t push it. If he’s willing to help, great. Otherwise…”

  A chill ran down my spine, turned around and shot back up. “Okay, Thanks, Anthony.” As an afterthought, I added, “Tell your folks hi for me.”

  “Same to Uncle Frank. Sorry I missed your mom’s funeral. I was in Vegas and couldn’t get away.”

  Yeah, couldn’t break away from the showgirls. “That’s okay.”

  “Good luck, Claire. Keep in touch.”

  Only with rubber gloves and a long stick. “You too.” I hung up, feeling like I needed a shower to scrub off the scum.

  ###

  About 5:00 that evening, I squeezed myself into a hot little black number I’d bought for a date with Corrigan. A fantasy date that never materialized. Instead I was wearing it for some old gangster whose face was probably full of lumpy moles from which black hairs sprouted. I was sure his waist and chest in all likelihood had melded into a Humpty-Dumpty shape. Ugh.

  Since the pizza place was on the other side of town, I started off early but still just barely made it at 6:58. Now I was wrinkled and stressed, neither of which enhanced my attractiveness. I blew out a tense breath, reapplied my lipstick and got out of the car. A strong wind blew just then and messed up my hair. Not a good sign.

  The door to Cicarelli’s was heavy and I had to use both hands to get it open. Now breathless, I looked around the dimly lit dining room. Empty except for a large round table in the back. Before I could take a step toward it, a heavy-set man who looked to be in his late forties with wispy graying hair and long sideburns hustled toward me waving his hands. “We’re closed tonight.”

  I forced my feet to stay put. “I know. I’m here to see Mr. Valcone.” My throat tightened.

  He snarled, making his acne-scarred face even more formidable. “What’s your business?”

  I was paranoid he’d pull out a gun and stick it under my chin. Or at least frisk me.

  “An important family issue. I just need a minute.” I held still, hoping he didn’t hear my heart pounding.

  It had to be Valcone who yelled from the table. “Hey Dom, what’re you waiting for? Bring the pretty lady over.”

  Dom cracked his knuckles, like he’d just as soon crack someone’s skull, probably mine. From the size of him, he could probably do two or three people at once.

  He escorted me to a table of four other men. Two, who looked like their biceps measured higher than their IQs, sat on high alert. Another had greasy, long hair, hollow cheeks and wore a bolero tie. He stood, excused himself, and ambled out of the room. The last one, a guy I guessed to be in his early forties, chiseled chin, Roman nose, thick, slicked-back hair, dressed like he was waiting for the paparazzi, completed the group.

  I figured Roman nose was my target. He looked me up and down then nodded to one of the muscle men, “Get her a chair.” Good thing, since my legs felt like strands of linguini cooked way beyond al dente. Once I sat down, he templed his hands on the table. “Now what can I do for you, pretty lady?”

  Although I’d practiced my response in my head, now I realized I was out of my head to think it would work. But with no other choice, I stumbled onward. “I’m Claire DeNardo and I wanted to ask you—”

  An all-too-familiar voice boomed from across the room, “—What you know about Joey Corozza’s murder.”

  Corrigan. I felt relieved and annoyed to see him there, but not surprised.

  With Dom following closely, Corrigan strode over to the table like he was the master of ceremonies. All he needed was a microphone.

  Valcone glared at Dom, like the guy would be hanging on a meat hook soon. Unfazed, Dom shrugged. “He flashed his badge. So sue me.”

  Corrigan continued, “What about it? Can any of you account for your whereabouts around 6:30 Sunday evening?” When nobody volunteered a response, he made a great show of pulling out his notepad. “Now don’t everyone talk at once.”

  Dom snorted. “We don’t know nothing. We was all playing cards at my place.”

  “Shut up, Dom.” Valcone put his hand up to edit that comment. “If we knew anything, Detective, we’d have come forward like the good citizens we are.” The others nodded solemnly. He sneered. “Your business is done here. Dom, escort this public servant out.”

  Corrigan nodded toward Valcone but addressed Dom. “You take all your orders from this guy?”

  Dom’s mouth twisted and he took a step toward Corrigan. It became a mental arm wrestling contest between the two men. They eyed each other, convinced the other would blink first. Neither budged. Before any violence began, I stood.

  Corrigan protectively took my arm. “Come on, Claire, I’ll walk you out.”

  When we got outside, Corrigan let go of me. “What the hell were you thinking? Those guys could’ve made you disappear before you told them your name.”

  I yanked my arm away. “But they didn’t and maybe I would’ve gotten somewhere if you hadn’t barged in.”

  He huffed. “The only place you could’ve gotten was six feet under.”

  I stuck my index finger out to make a point when I heard, “Claire!” I turned and spotted Alex, that cutie who was having lunch with my cousin, Anthony.

  I added my other fingers to my first, so it looked more like a greeting. “Hi, Alex. What a surprise.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, a very nice one.” If I hadn’t been so annoyed with Corrigan, my insides would’ve done a happy dance.

  Corrigan cleared his throat. Loudly. “Detective Corrigan, Cleveland Police.”

  I blurted out, “And he’s just leaving.” I didn’t know what to make of Alex showing up here at this time, but knew I wouldn’t find out anything with Corrigan around.

  Alex suppressed a smile and asked as if only being polite. “Is there a problem, Detective Corrigan?”

  I could almost smell the smoke from the gears grinding in Corrigan’s head. “No, not at all.” Now he matched Alex’s pretend-casualness. “But if you had plans for pizza, Cicarelli’s is closed.”

  Alex nodded. “Yeah?”

  Stalemate. What next, compare genitalia?

  I spoke up. “I used to come here when I was a teenager. I thought it was the best pizza around.”

  Alex winked. “Still is, as far as I’m concerned.”

  Not to be ignored, Corrigan intruded, “Do you know the owner?”

  Alex rubbed his chin. “Yeah. Nick Cicarelli and I grew up together, even made our First Communion at the same time. Now if you’ll excuse me, he and I are having a drink together to catch up and I’m already late.” He nodded to Corrigan and then said, “A pleasure to see you again, Claire. Maybe next time it could be for a little longer.” He disappeared
inside the restaurant.

  I glared at Corrigan. “Thanks for nothing.” I started toward my car, but he caught up to me. “What do you know about that guy?”

  “Police business, or are you just being nosy?”

  He waved my question away like he was swatting a mosquito. “I’m serious. If he hangs around with Nick Cicarelli, he’s got dirty hands. I’d hate for him to wipe them on you.”

  As hot as that man is, he could use me like a bar of soap and I wouldn’t mind. “I’m not getting involved with anyone. I’m only doing what my aunt asked me to do.”

  He rubbed his chin. “The best thing you can do is stay out of it and let me do my work. I’m sure she didn’t ask for you to get yourself hurt.”

  My phone rang. Speak of the devil’s food cake. “Hi, Aunt Lena.”

  “Claire, honey, have you found out anything yet?”

  Did she think I had a list of stoolies on speed dial? I turned my back to Corrigan and cupped my hand over my mouth. “I was in the middle of checking out a lead, but no real information yet.”

  “I know you’ll do more than the police. They have so many cases; they won’t spend the time on this like they should.” Her voice waivered, “When I think of that poor man…”

  “I know, Aunt Lena.” Corrigan was still standing there tapping his foot.

  She sniffed and spoke. “I want you to know I’m going back to my own house now.”

  “What? No, you can’t be home alone. Did my father do something?”

  “Of course not. But he’s driving me crazy. You know your father. All he does is watch animal shows. If I see one more zebra running from a lion, I swear I’ll root for the lion. He won’t even let me watch the news. Says it’ll upset me, but I’m already upset, wondering about Larry.” She paused.

  I thought maybe I’d been wrong. She needed to know Larry was really Joey Corozza. What if Dad relented and she learned it another way?

  But before I could say anything, Aunt Lena added, “And if I can’t be at home, I’m staying with you tonight. Your sofa can’t be any worse than watching a show about insects laying their eggs. I can watch the news instead. Can we, at least, swing by my house first? I need a change of clothes.”

  “You know you’re welcome at my place.” I frowned, thinking about the dirty cereal bowls in the sink, bathroom towels on the floor, and the past two days’ outfits slung over a chair. “I’ll be there in half an hour and we can decide what to do then.”

  Corrigan waited for me to end the call. “I heard her. We’ve been watching her house since Sunday. If you take her there, let me know first.”

  My mind scrambled, thinking of Aunt Lena at my place full time. I murmured, “Yeah,” and started toward the parking lot.

  Corrigan stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. “You know, I’m not the enemy. I want to catch this killer without you or your aunt getting hurt.”

  I gave him the first genuine smile I’d had in a while. “I know. We want the same thing.” I wasn’t going to tell him I’d drop my investigation. For Aunt Lena’s sake I couldn’t. She was the best family I had next to my dad.

  Chapter Six

  When I arrived at my father’s house, I could hear my dad and aunt arguing, or at least talking loudly, which my family does. A lot.

  “Frank, I’ll be fine. Claire—”

  “Claire doesn’t have enough extra room for a hamster, let alone a grown woman. Stay here, Lena.”

  I decided not to knock and just went in.

  “Claire.” Aunt Lena held her red leather purse. “Do you or do you not have room for me?”

  I took in a breath and fibbed. “There’s always room for you.” That’s when my father standing behind her waved his arms and emphatically shook his head no. “But, uh, wouldn’t it be more comfortable staying here if Dad let you watch your shows…?” He grimaced, but then nodded.

  She set her purse down and turned to my dad. “Just not one nature show after the next. And the 11:00 news. I need to watch the news.”

  My shoulders dropped and I relaxed knowing I could continue alone in my messy apartment. I hugged her and offered to take her to her home for extra clothes. But my dad’s offer topped mine. He’d take her to gather some of her things and then accompany her to the 10:00 p.m. showing of a new comedy, Another Tale. His treat. “Maybe I haven’t been the best host, but this new flick’s supposed to be good.”

  She took his cheeks in her hands and kissed him. “You’re a good man, but let’s just get my clothes and call it a night.”

  I rubbed my face, wanting to melt into my bed, but other stuff needed my attention. “Why don’t all three of us go to your house?” This way I could prepare her in case she noticed her place thick with cops, despite my calling Corrigan on the way with a heads up.

  Aunt Lena grabbed me by my chin and turned my face toward her. “You look worse than me and you’re a lot younger. Go home. Get some rest and eat something before you start your day. None of that instant stuff.” She let go of my chin. “Frank, tell her.” She paused. “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to look into this case. Your mother, God bless her, is probably so mad she’s telling everyone in heaven what I fool I am…” Her eyes filled with tears and she lowered her head.

  It tore at my heart to see her so hurt and I hugged her. “Most likely my mom would’ve done the same as you. Don’t be sorry you asked me to look into Larry’s murder. I’d have done it whether you wanted me to or not.” I couldn’t tell her that, if she hadn’t asked, I would’ve rather gnawed my foot off at the ankle than take this case.

  I pushed her wiry hair back from her face. “Before you and Dad go to pick up some clothes, I’ll call Detective Corrigan. They’re watching your house, just to make sure nobody breaks in.”

  I think my aunt turned a little pale, but she didn’t say anything.

  I not only called Corrigan to let him know my aunt was on her way to her house. I also left a message at the police station. I didn’t want my aunt to be upset by cops swarming all over her place. Then I headed home for something to eat and bed. I was beyond exhausted and my stomach wanted to leave me for someone who ate regular meals.

  But when I got home, the only thing in my fridge was dried out cheese and a protein shake. I remembered the manicotti my father gave me was still in the fridge at work. I promised myself I’d just go to the office to grab the luscious cheese-and-sausage stuffed pasta and bring it home, devour it and go to bed.

  When I got to my office, my office phone blinked with a message. I debated waiting until tomorrow to pick it up, but decided to answer it. Maybe it was a potential client.

  I grinned wide when I listened. “Hi Claire. It’s Alex Carpenter. I hope you don’t mind me calling on your business line. This was the only phone number I could find for you. Anyway, I wasn’t kidding about wanting to spend more time with you. If you’re interested, please call me.” He left two different numbers, one business, one personal. I was interested, oh, was I interested. I checked the time. I couldn’t call him tonight. Too eager. Tomorrow afternoon. That would say I wanted to pursue this, just not immediately. I picked up the casserole and took one step toward the door. Turned around and started my computer up. As it booted up, I heated the manicotti in my office microwave.

  An hour later the manicotti was all gone, and I knew where Alex had gone to college, that he was divorced once and childless. He was a CPA. So far, so good. I yawned and the computer screen blurred. I turned off the machine, picked up the empty dish to wash, and headed home. Tomorrow I’d be doing a stakeout on Mark Wyatt, discovering what he did without his wife on Tuesday nights.

  Chapter Seven

  I woke up feeling sluggish and disoriented. I was heading for the shower when my phone rang. It was Ed.

  “You sound like you just got up. Time’s a wasting, woman. When you’ve put yourself together, call me back. Got something for you, but you’ll have to pick it up here.”

  I yawned. “Where’s here?” He was at Triton. �
�What is it?”

  “Words won’t do it justice, but I will say it’s about the company some people keep.” He chuckled softly. “Just get here.” He hung up.

  I cursed under my breath, foul mood, foul mouth. I finished my shower, called him to say I was on my way and got into my car. I praised Bob for good behavior, and he rewarded me by starting up the first time.

  When I got to Triton, Ed was leaning against one of the building’s walls, flicking toothpicks toward the trash can. I parked my car and he waved me over. “Was wondering if you were going to stand me up.”

  “Sorry, traffic was awful and I got stuck at a train crossing. What do you have for me?”

  He reached inside his pocket, then stopped. One of his eyebrows went up. “First, is this part of that freebee you’ve got me doing?”

  I bowed my head and tried to look remorseful. The truth was, I couldn’t pay him. Not now, anyway.

  When I didn’t answer, he flicked one more toothpick into the trash can. Without looking at me, he asked, “How’s Lena holding up?”

  “Surprisingly well. She may even go back to Cannoli’s today, if the police let her.” I cocked my head. “Why?”

  He cleared his throat and for a second I thought I saw a trace of uncertainty cloud his face. It vanished when he said, “I thought maybe I’d see if she’d like to go out, maybe bowling.”

  “What’s that got to do with me and the information you found?”

  He ran his tongue around his gums. “Just thought you could put in a good word for me.”

  I wrapped my arms around my waist. This potential pairing didn’t sit well with me, although Ed was looking more and more like one of the good guys. “I don’t know, Ed.”

  He pushed his shirt sleeves up. “Claire, nothing up my sleeves. I just think Lena and me could share some time together. You may not realize it, but she is one fine looking woman and I, for one, would enjoy her company.”

  I liked it better when Ed complained that I could only pay him $17.95 per bit of information. At least then I didn’t feel like I’d put a family member on the auction block. I released a sigh of resignation. The information I’d get was to help Aunt Lena and, after all, she did have the right of refusal to go out with him. I gave in and agreed to ask my aunt if she’d be interested in getting to know Ed better. I just didn’t promise when I’d do it.