Bake Me a Murder Read online

  On my way to see Eric at the lounge, I stopped to get a burger. While waiting at the takeout window, I got a call from Aunt Lena. The woman has the worst timing of anyone I know.

  “Claire, I hate to ask, but have you seen Ed? He just called off our date for tonight and cancelled our whole weekend together. He sounded worried sick over his cousin. He didn’t give me the details. Is there anything I can do?”

  Not being the person to give out advice to the lovelorn, I squirmed a bit. Besides that, it seemed unnatural for my aunt to hesitate, unsure of what to do. She’d always barreled through life’s problems. “Just be there for Ed if he needs you. Merle’s been charged with the murder of his girlfriend, Coco. Ed’s taking it hard, but he’s working with me to clear his cousin.” Pretty inane but it was the best I could do. My record on relationships wasn’t exactly stellar.

  She sighed. “But he’s got to take care of himself.”

  “He is, by doing something. He’ll be okay. I’ll let him know you called, concerned.”

  “No, don’t tell him. He’ll think I’m sticking my nose in his business. I am, but I don’t want him to know. If I can do anything…”

  “I’ll let you know.” The girl at the takeout window handed me my food. “I hate to cut you off, Aunt Lena, but—”

  “It’s okay. You go on.”

  It would’ve been great had Eric been at the lounge. He was nowhere in sight. Marlene, the bartender, told me he’d been there earlier. That was my clue to call it a day and find him tomorrow. I gave the burger to the hungriest-looking of the men huddled near the doorway.

  Thursday, 9:00 a.m.

  Thursday morning I repeated what I’d done the night before and picked up food for Eric. This time it was an egg-and-cheese sandwich and a chocolate shake.

  Eric was at his usual spot, outside West City Lounge, smoking. I dodged the broken glass on the uneven sidewalk and thrust a grease-stained bag at him. “Want it? It’s a breakfast sandwich. I was going to eat it on the way here, but my appetite’s gone.”

  His eyes grew big and for a second he reminded me of a hungry wolf smelling blood. He took one last drag on his cigarette, pinched the lit end and slipped it in his pocket. “Yeah. The pasta you gave me was great, even cold. But I could eat this morning.” He snatched the bag from my hands and hesitated. “Sure you don’t want this?” When I shook my head, he unwrapped the sandwich and took a massive bite.

  While he chewed, I played my hunch. “Mind if I ask you to do me a favor?” His cheeks puffed out, he mumbled something I assumed was an agreement.

  “Can I use your phone? It’s important and mine is dead.”

  Eric swallowed the huge bite he’d taken, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and pulled out his phone.

  I kept my tone light and casual. “That’s a nice one. Is it new?”

  He took great care wrapping the rest of his sandwich. His jaw tensed and I glimpsed the ferociousness that made him a great high school football player. I blinked and it was gone. “It’s not mine. It’s, well…Coco’s. She gave it to me. Asked if I’d keep it for her until she got back. Swear to God I didn’t steal it.”

  “I believe you. It is a nice phone. Still, why didn’t you turn it over to the police?”

  “I forgot about it. Then when I found out she was dead, thought maybe I could use it.” He stopped and glanced around. “Truth is, I was going to try and sell it.”

  I kept any accusation out of my voice. “I know what it’s like to be broke. It sucks. That’s my constant state. But the phone is evidence and you’ve got to turn it over to the police.”

  He frowned. “Can you give it to them? Tell them you found it somewhere?”

  “They’ll figure it out. Better you hand it over yourself.” Before I gave it back, I checked Coco’s call history and texts.

  She’d gotten five calls from the same number and, I’d have bet my last dollar it belonged to Rico. Her final call was from area code 878, Pittsburgh. Probably a family member from back home, but I copied it anyway. Her texts consisted of a few from Rico. None of them very nice.

  Eric watched me, his face unreadable. “You sure the cops won’t bust me for keeping the phone?”

  I was seldom sure of anything, but he did need to turn the phone in. I chose my words with care. “It’ll look like you wanted to help. Tell the police what you told me.” After dialing Corrigan’s number, I handed Eric the phone.

  His hands shook, whether from nerves or alcohol I didn’t know. “Detective Corrigan?” Eric switched the phone to his other ear. “It’s Eric Allescio. I’m at the West City Lounge. I, um, I have Coco’s phone.” Corrigan’s words weren’t clear, but Eric nodded and said, “I’ll wait right here.” The call ended and Eric deflated like a balloon with an air leak.

  What little color Eric had in his face drained away. “You’ll stay here ‘til they come?”

  That was among the last things I wanted to do. I needed to get moving and find out if it had been Rico who called Coco five times. I glanced at Eric and saw a man whose time on earth hadn’t been so great and was about to get worse. “If you want me to.” So much for being a hard-boiled private detective. I held my hand out and he placed Coco’s phone in it.

  “Yeah.” He licked his lips. “I could use a drink about now.”

  “I have a chocolate shake in my car. It’s probably a little warm. I’m going to get it for you.” I didn’t want to offer him anything alcoholic.

  I returned and handed him the beverage. He took it and sucked on the straw. His heart didn’t appear to be in it.

  “Eric, I have to make a call but I’ll be back before the police get here.”

  He nodded and took another draw from the milkshake.

  I sat in my car and dialed the numbers I’d written down. They didn’t belong to anyone anymore. Probably disposable phones. I went through the pictures on her phone, taking my time. Besides the numerous selfies, were multiple photos of worn furniture in a room with grey walls. Her living quarters? The last photo was of a dark haired girl, early twenties, in the tiniest of bathing suits. Her mouth hung open like she was drunk or high. Asking Eric if he knew who she was seemed like a good idea.

  Before getting the chance, a car pulled up. Corrigan, making it here in record time. He must have been in the vicinity. I jumped out of my car and hurried over to Eric, slipping him Coco’s phone.

  When Corrigan saw me he shaded his eyes with his hand and shook his head. “What a surprise. It’s DeNardo.” He removed his hand and glared at me. “I’d ask you what you were doing here, but I’m sure the answer would just irritate me.”

  Eric chimed in. “I asked Claire to be here.” Corrigan scowled, but didn’t offer a response. Eric set the shake down on the sidewalk and continued. “Coco gave me her phone to hold for her.”

  Corrigan bagged the phone. “This is evidence. You should have turned it in when you found out Ms. Sanchez was dead.”

  Eric nodded. “I know.”

  As if contemplating his next action, Corrigan said, “I should run you in.”

  It was time for my two cents. “But he did turn it in of his own free will.”

  Eric’s fists clenched and unclenched. “Yeah. That should count for something”

  “All right, all right.” Corrigan rubbed his forehead. “Anything else you’d like to come clean with?”

  “That was it.”

  “It’d better be. You’re free to go for now. Just don’t go far. Claire, a word.”

  I wasn’t falling for that trick this go-round. Last time he wanted a word with me he’d locked me in his car. But when he crooked his finger again I decided maybe I’d better follow.

  Chapter Seven

  Once we were out of Eric’s hearing, Corrigan stared at me like he was trying to read my thoughts. “I suppose you deserve some thanks for getting him to turn in the phone.”

  “Don’t strain yourself.”

  He stifled a smirk then grew serious. “We already have a warrant
for Ms. Sanchez’s phone records, but any pictures she took could help.” He pulled out gloves and opened the camera app. When he found the furniture photos, he checked the date they were taken and the location. “The pictures of furniture are from about two weeks before Ms. Sanchez died.” He showed me the pictures. “Could be, this was where she was living. We’ll check it out.”

  He looked at the photo of the dark-haired girl last. “Same location and date as the others. She looks familiar. Maybe she’s in our system.” He slipped Coco’s phone back into an evidence bag.

  “Or maybe Eric knows who she is.”

  His eyebrows rose, like he was surprised I had a good idea.

  Eric had disappeared, but I had a good idea where he was. Opening the door to the lounge, I pointed at him sitting at the bar, tapping his hands on it. No doubt waiting for a drink.

  Corrigan followed me inside.

  Eric spun on his stool and stiffened when he saw us.

  “Relax. We want you to look at a photo. Tell us if you know this woman.” Corrigan held out the phone to Eric and I held my breath.

  Eric glanced at the picture and shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Look again, Eric.”

  He gazed at the photo once more.

  His voice almost gruff, he said, “Never seen her before. Sorry.”

  I was just as sorry.

  Corrigan and I walked in silence side-by-side. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I was deciding whether to believe Eric or not. As far as I knew, he had no reason to lie.

  We got to my car and I began fishing for my keys when Corrigan said, “Good work getting the phone.”

  I waved that compliment away. “Have you found Rico yet? What if those pictures are why he’s looking for Coco?”

  He joked, “You think he has a thing for dilapidated furniture?” When he realized I was serious, he stuck his hands in his pockets. “We’re still looking for him.”

  When I opened my car door, Corrigan put his hand on my arm. “Want to follow me back to the station? Help find who the girl in that picture is. Maybe she knows Carreras’s whereabouts.”

  It was like the devil himself tempting me, but would I regret it later? “You’re willing to let me in on the investigation?”

  “Tit for tat, you know? We might not have gotten the phone without your help.”

  I placed my hands on my hips. “So this is your way of thanking me?”

  “Yeah, plus then, I can keep my eye on you.” He half-smiled and his dimples grabbed my attention. “Besides, I might as well admit you’re a lot better to look at than most sights at the station.”

  My insides warmed, but the warning light went on in my head. There had to be more to it. “You want me to look through mug shots for this girl rather than you spending the time.”

  He let out a brief laugh. “That never crossed my mind.” He emailed the photo of the unknown girl to me.

  Thursday, 11:00 a.m.

  To avoid distractions, Corrigan sat me in an interrogation room. I looked through picture after picture, but never found a match for the girl in Coco’s phone. I was about ready to call it quits, feeling like I’d wasted time I didn’t have, when Corrigan burst through the door. “You better come out here, now.”

  My stomach dropped and I jumped from my chair. “What is it?”

  Without answering he led the way out of the room and we came face to face with my aunt, holding a massive sheet cake adorned with chocolate and vanilla swirl frosting.

  “Aunt Lena?” Was all I could manage.

  My aunt’s body swayed a bit under the weight of that dessert. “I thought everyone was working so hard, I’d bring a little something down to the station. Is Ed here by any chance?”

  Corrigan stepped toward my aunt. “Here, Lena, let me take that cake from you. It looks delicious, but it’s got to be heavy.”

  Aunt Lena hoisted it into Corrigan’s arms. “Thanks, Brian. Or should I call you Detective Corrigan, since we’re in the police station?”

  “You can call me Brian, anytime.”

  I wanted to smack my forehead to wake me from this ridiculous dream. My aunt bringing a cake to the police station so she could see Ed? That bordered on desperate.

  I had to rescue her dignity. “That was considerate of you, Aunt Lena. I don’t think Ed’s around but I’ll certainly make sure he gets a piece of cake.”

  A voice behind me boomed. “Who says I’m not here?” It was Ed. “Lena, I swear you get prettier every day.”

  My aunt giggled and tapped his arm. “You’re such a kidder.”

  Corrigan smiled. “Lena was nice enough to bring us all this cake.”

  Ed took Aunt Lena’s hand and kissed it. “You’re enough sweetness for me. But I will take a piece later. I’ve got to go see my aunt and uncle, Merle’s folks.”

  Aunt Lena’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Ed. Can I do anything?”

  He placed his hands on my aunt’s shoulders. “Just keep good thoughts. Thanks for coming down, Lena. It means a lot.”

  Nice to see not everyone had bad luck in relationships. I was happy for my aunt and admired Ed. As worried as he was about Merle, he was still more gracious with my aunt than I would have expected.

  Corrigan was talking again, but in my reverie of what romance is for other people, I missed part of it. I did hear him ask if Aunt Lena would like to follow him into the break room to cut the cake.

  “Love to, Brian, but I better get back to Cannoli’s. I left Angie there by herself and I’m sure you’re very busy.”

  “Never too busy to show our appreciation to you, Lena. I’ll share this with the other officers.” He winked. “Maybe it’ll drum up even more customers for you.”

  Good thing nobody was watching me because my eyes were rolling like I was possessed. How could Corrigan be so charming and sweet to my aunt and about as pleasant as a painful boil to me?

  My aunt said her goodbyes and was headed toward the door when she turned and asked, “Claire, if it’s not too much trouble, could you work the counter at Cannoli’s next Wednesday? Angie will be off and we’re having ten women for a ‘Just Dessert’ party.”

  I looked away, but not before catching Corrigan staring at the cake. No doubt he was hiding a smirk that a dedicated private investigator, in the middle of a case, also filled in at her aunt’s pastry café.

  Aunt Lena was waiting for an answer. When I nodded, she addressed Corrigan. “Can you believe it? Not only does my niece have brains and, if she’d just dress nice, looks, but she helps her family. She’s loyal.”

  I felt like a dog in a shelter and Aunt Lena was trying to get me adopted. What next? Would she encourage Corrigan to check my teeth? I needed to get her to leave.

  “Come on, Aunt Lena. I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Thursday, 3:00 p.m.

  After my aunt left, I returned to the mug shots, but came up with a big zero. It was getting late and my belly let me know how displeased it was I hadn’t eaten a piece of Aunt Lena’s cake. Maybe if Corrigan heard the growls, he’d buy me a meal.

  I was walking out the interrogation room door and almost bumped into Corrigan. He was holding two diet sodas and takeout Chinese. The smell of sesame oil and soy sauce wafted in the air when he set it in front of me. He handed me chopsticks. “I was hungry and thought you might be, too.”

  “That’s sweet.” While my mouth watered, I wondered if he had an ulterior motive. Like a thousand more mug shots for me to view.

  As if to allay my suspicions, he pulled out a chair and sat next to me and opened the containers. “Staring at mug shots is tough. After a while everyone looks alike. Have something to eat and then call it a day.”

  “My eyes were starting to cross.” Although Corrigan was playing nice, I kept my guard up.

  He stared into his carton like the answer was written in rice and as casual as could be, said, “So how long are you going to carry a chip on your shoulder? I mean about you and me.”

  Like a wild anim
al finding themselves wrapped in a net, I growled. “Me? A chip? We’re sitting here, and up until now, having a pleasant meal. But you—”

  A sharp rap on the door stopped me in the middle of my verbal clawing. An officer opened the door and motioned for Corrigan. The look on Corrigan’s face reminded me of a boxer who’s rescued by the bell. He and the officer huddled and exchanged words.

  Their conversation finished, Corrigan turned to me. “That teenager you hired managed to pull strings. Pokov is being arraigned this afternoon.”

  For a moment I sat there, stunned but realized quickly I needed to get downtown. After I’d dumped the leftovers out, I hustled to my car and made it to the twelfth floor of the Justice Center. I sat on the last bench in the back of the courtroom and looked around until I spotted Ed.

  The judge announced a tattooed older woman’s bail and she was led away. Merle and his lawyer, Harold, were up next. My stomach crashed into my throat as I realized how young Harold looked. Worries about his ability to handle Merle’s case expanded like an overinflated tire. I pressed my knuckles against my mouth.

  After the prosecuting attorney had his say, it was Harold’s turn. “Your Honor, my client is not a flight risk. He’s lived in the Cleveland area all his life. He’s held down a steady job but as an only child he’s taken on the entire task of caring for his aging parents.” By the time Harold finished, Merle could’ve been nominated for governor. I held my breath for the judge’s pronouncement.

  The judge set Merle’s bail at $100,000. Not as bad as it could’ve been, and I hoped he’d be able to post that amount of money. The thought of Merle incarcerated for a murder he couldn’t have done gave me a headache.

  Ed stood, shaking his head, and made his way to me. “Saw you come in, but I wanted to wait until Merle got finished.” He rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure he can make bail. He’s got a good job, but a lot of it goes to doctor bill for his folks.”