Spinelli wasn’t in the mood for Marsh’s alleged humor. Marsh never seemed to know when to zip his lips. “How about you just never mind what happened to me and drive us over to the boat ramp where they’re staging the floats for the parade. According to the bartender I talked to, the McGrath’s will be in the parade.”
Marsh put the car in gear and pulled into traffic. Spinelli hoped to get across the bridge before the city closed it to traffic for the parade. As they crossed, he glanced over toward the boat ramp parking lot filled with floats. Just over the bridge, Marsh hung a left and then another left into the parking lot. He pulled into one of the few remaining stalls available and cut the engine.
Spinelli grabbed his new hat and flung his door open.
Marsh glanced at him and cocked a brow. “You can’t possibly be serious?”
“What?”
“You’re actually going to wear that ridiculous hat?”
“It’s warm, I like it, and it will help me fit in with the crowd. Now, let’s find the McGrath’s.”
Spinelli, Walker, and Marsh entered the endless sea of green. First, they spotted the O’Hern clan, a loud and rowdy bunch, all dressed in green from head to toe. Their matching green hooded sweatshirts had ‘O’Hern Clan’ stamped on the back and almost all of them clenched a green solo cup in their hand. Spinelli glanced at his watch. Nearly 10:00 a.m. and this group was partying like they’d been at it for a while.
A young woman with a green afro wig caught his gaze. “Nice hat.”
“Thank you. Say, do you know where we can find the McGrath Clan?”
Her nose wrinkled and dark eyes oozed with competitiveness. “Those losers” We’re so kicking their asses in the float contest this year!” The gold bells on her shoes jingled as she shifted her feet in the direction of the O’Hern float.
Spinelli glanced in that direction as well. Their float consisted of one of those large inflatable leprechauns and a pot of gold with a rainbow shooting out of it. The leprechaun, at least eight feet tall, stood next to a plush velvet-covered chair. It sat on a platform a bit higher than the rest of the simple green chairs on the flatbed trailer. It reminded him of the one he sat on while playing Santa Claus at the mall, only this chair was green rather than red. He supposed the chair was meant for the elder O’Hern.
Long streamers attached to shiny gold posts whipped in the breeze. Green and white balloons, some shaped like shamrocks, lined several arches stretching from one side to the other of the float. He was surprised to see the balloons holding up in the frigid temperature.
Irish music blared from the truck attached to the trailer. The tap of a keg peeked out from under a tarp on the bed of the truck. Only in small town Wisconsin could someone siphon from a keg on the back of a pickup truck on public property.
Spinelli nodded at the woman. “Your float looks good, I’m sure you’ll win.”
The woman’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “Thanks. Hmm, let’s see, the McGrath’s are down there, second or third from the end of the lineup,” the woman replied as she pointed and craned her neck to glance around Walker.
“Great, thanks for your help.”
Walker spun to head in the direction of the McGrath’s but the girl they spoke with grabbed his arm. “Wait,” she said as she pulled a pair of green shamrock glasses from the pouch on her sweatshirt and handed them to Walker. Walker reluctantly took them from her and put them on as Marsh tried to stifle his chuckle. “And just what are you laughing at, mister?” she asked Marsh as she pulled the green clown-looking wig from her head and secured it onto his. “You can’t be walking around here without any Saint Patty’s Day attire. That just wouldn’t be right.”
Excellent, now Spinelli had company. And though he already wore a leprechaun hat and green beads, the lady evidently felt the need to add to his wardrobe as well as she pulled the feathery green boa wrap from around her neck and wrapped it around him. Though he looked even more ridiculous, he couldn’t say it bothered him. He was willing to do whatever it took to find McGrath so he could find Shannon and Anna.
“There, that’s better,” the woman uttered as she spun on her heel and headed back toward her clan.
It didn’t take but a minute to find the McGrath Clan, all dressed in their matching green zip-up hoodies. There looked to be fifteen to twenty McGrath’s putting the finishing touches on their float. It looked good. The O’Herns would have a run for their money.
Spinelli, Walker, and Marsh eyed the four adult men in the clan. They all resembled the man in the photo.
Walker pulled his green glasses from his face and took another look at the photo he had of the deliveryman. “That’s him, over there standing at the back of the float,” Walker said as he pointed at the man.”
They walked over to the back of the float. “Excuse me,” Walker said, drawing the man’s attention.
“Yeah?”
“We’re looking for a friend of ours and hope you can help us out.”
The guy jumped down from the float. “Sure, who are you looking for?”
“Did you deliver an envelope to a waitress this morning at the Harbor Resort Restaurant?”
The man shifted his nervous gaze among them. The internal debate he held in regard to telling the truth or not became transparent.
“Yes.”
“How did you obtain the envelope?”
McGrath stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Some old man I don’t know pulled me aside in the lobby and handed me one hundred bucks. He asked me to make sure the waitress got the envelope right away so she could give it to some guy named Spinelli who was in the restaurant.” McGrath shrugged. “I just did it. I didn’t think much about it. It was easy money.”
“Do you know if the person who gave you the envelope is staying at the resort?”
“I didn’t ask. Is he in some sort of trouble?”
“Possibly,” Walker replied as he pulled his wallet from his pocket and flashed his detective badge at the man.
McGrath sighed. “I knew it was too good to be true. Am I in trouble?”
“Not really, but we do need help finding this guy. He may be holding a friend of ours.”
The blood drained from McGrath’s face.
Spinelli and Marsh listened as Walker continued to question McGrath.
“Can you tell us exactly what happened this morning?”
McGrath stood silent for a moment and looked as though he was trying to get his thoughts in order. “Shortly before 6:00 this morning, I went into the lobby to see if they would let me check in early. My whole family is staying there tonight so we don’t have to drive home after partying all day. They let me check in and I went upstairs to throw my stuff in the room. I came back down right away to meet my brothers for breakfast downtown at 6:00. An old guy, standing in the corner of the reception area, motioned to me as I entered the lobby. He asked if I could help him with something. I agreed, so he handed me the money and the envelope, and that was all there was to the exchange.” McGrath shifted his gaze among them again and before anyone else could speak he continued, “I was in such a hurry to meet my brothers, I just didn’t give it any thought.”
“Dammit,” Spinelli uttered, “he was right at our fingertips.”
Walker turned his attention back to McGrath, “Can you describe the man at all?”
“He has short white hair. I’d say he’s in his mid-sixties. He’s at least my height. The only detail I really noticed about him was his eyes.”
“What about his eyes?” Walker asked.
McGrath’s face scrunched. “They seemed so ... I don’t know, I guess hollow.”
“Hollow?”
“You know, empty or cold. Again, I was in such a hurry I didn’t worry about it. Plus I was more focused on the midget.”
“The midget?”
“I’m sorry, I mean little person.”
Spinelli knew he didn’t dare risk a glance at Marsh at this point. He didn’t, in any way, shape or form, want to
give Marsh any reason to make some sort of uncouth comments about little people.
Walker kept his expression in check as he usually did. “So, the old man was with a little person?”
“I don’t know if they were together, but I couldn’t help but notice him standing nearby and watching us. It just seemed peculiar to me.”
“Peculiar?”
“Well, you know, being Saint Patrick’s Day weekend and all. I couldn’t help but picture him in a green velvet suit, riding on one of the floats. I suspected the O’Herns brought him in for their float.” McGrath shook his head. “I swear they’ll stop at nothing to win the competition.”
A beat of silence passed.
“Sorry, I can’t help what I pictured,” McGrath added as if guilt swept through him for his simple-minded thought about the little person. “But on a good note, if they are together they should be easy for you to find,” McGrath offered in desperation.
Spinelli knew Walker and Marsh were of like mind. They knew what McGrath meant.
Walker handed McGrath his card, asked him to call if he saw the man who gave him the envelope or the little person, and thanked him for his time.
Spinelli’s heart raced as they piled into the car and headed back to the resort. He was one step closer to finding Shannon and Anna. They were at the resort; he could feel it in his bones. Though he was excited, he wanted to kick himself for wasting so much time already, when the captors had been right at his fingertips.
They piled into the car and Marsh speedily drove them back to the hotel. Leaping from the car, Spinelli high-tailed it to the receptionist's desk and rang the bell for service. The clerk poked her head around the corner and held her index finger in the air. “I’ll be right with you.”
A moment later, she resurfaced. “How can I help you?”
Spinelli went with what he had, “We’re looking for a gray-haired man in his sixties who may have checked in with a little person. Have you seen anyone fitting this description?”
The woman nodded.
“Did they check in with anyone else?” She shook her head.
He leaned forward, rested his elbows on the counter, and flashed his lady-killer grin. The grin that usually got him whatever he wanted from the opposite sex. “Can you tell me what room they are in?”
Her headshake came slow, and her glance to the security camera told Spinelli it wouldn’t take much more to get what he wanted from this woman.
“I understand. One other thing though, I seem to have lost my room keycard. Can I get a new one?” he asked for the benefit of the audio that likely came along with the security camera system.
“Sure, no problem. I just need your driver’s license so I can find you in the system.”
Spinelli lifted his elbows off the counter, stood up straight, and pulled his wallet from his pocket. Holding it low between him and the counter, out of view of the camera, he pulled his license from it, along with the folded fifty-dollar bill he always stashed for emergency purposes. He carefully set the license onto the counter and slid it over to her with the bill tucked securely beneath it. With a knowing smile, she reached over, pressed her fingers to the license, and continued to slide it in her direction. Judging from her experience, Spinelli guessed she’d helped a few jealous lovers from time to time.
As her fingers danced across the keyboard to program a new keycard for him, he inquired about the location of the hotel gym. She finished with the card, pulled a hotel map from the stack next to her, and placed it on the counter in front of him. “You are here and the gym is here,” she said as she quickly circled a room number and handed him the map.
“Thank you.”
“No problem, have a good day.”
They stepped away from the desk, and Spinelli glanced at the map. Adrenaline shot through his veins. The room number the clerk circled had to be a mistake.
“What is it?” Marsh asked as he took the map from Spinelli’s hand. “For chrissake, un-freaking-believable.”
Spinelli shot to the stairs. He sprinted up the steps two at a time, and then he ran down the hall stopping at the suite right next to his room. She’d been in the suite right next to him the entire time.
Walker threw himself between Spinelli and the door. “Wait.” Walker pressed his ear to the door. “It’s quiet.”
Spinelli feared he was too late and the girls weren’t there any longer.
Walker knocked and they all stepped out of the peephole view hoping someone would actually open the door.
Nothing.
Walker knocked again. This time they heard a masculine groan. They paused, and another groan sounded, clearly not that of a woman. Spinelli glanced down the hall in both directions. Seeing no one, he drew his weapon, slipped the keycard into the slot, and pushed his way through the door with Walker and Marsh in tow. They slipped through the narrow kitchenette and into the living room space to find an old gray-haired man and little person gagged and bound together, back-to-back in kitchen chairs.
He let Walker deal with them as he and Marsh checked the two bedrooms attached to the suite. Spinelli’s heart plummeted into his stomach. Empty. Hardly able to think, he could hear Walker talking to the men but couldn’t process what they said now that Walker had removed their gags. For security purposes, Walker kept the men tied up.
Spinelli’s phone buzzed, snapping him back into reality. He pulled it from his hip and glanced at the screen. Bernie.
“Spinelli here.”
“Hey Nick, it’s Bernie. Davin and I are in the hotel lobby. Where are you guys?”
“We’re here, Suite 342. Come on up,” Spinelli replied. He’d fill Bernie in on what little he knew when he got here.
Walker’s words came clearer now. He heard him ask the men about Shannon and Anna’s whereabouts. They denied knowing anything about the women.
The old man glanced in Spinelli’s direction and smirked. Instinctively, Spinelli leaped toward him but Marsh blocked his path before he could wring the old man’s neck. Glancing around Marsh, he caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes. He now understood what McGrath had meant. Evil oozed from the old man’s glare. Spinelli had seen that look before, countless times, in the eyes of killers he’d arrested. Sharp pains shot through his ears as a result of his knotted jaw. Shannon and Anna had been in this man’s hands, and now they were nowhere to be found.
“Dammit, Riordan, what have you done? Where is she?” Bernie’s stern yet agitated voice sounded as he rounded the kitchenette toward the old man. Bernie’s furious eyes told of his intention.
“I don’t have her, you reneging hypocrite,” Riordan yelled as he squirmed to free himself from the chair, but the ropes bound him tightly.
Walker stepped into Bernie’s path and held his hand up. “Everybody just stop!”
Bernie took another step.
“Stop, I said.” Walker didn’t mess around. There was work to be done here and no time for tempers.
Bernie stopped and looked back. All eyes drifted in the same direction. “Davin, get in here, you little chicken shit.”
Riordan growled something Spinelli couldn’t quite make out but chose to ignore him. Curiosity flooded him. He needed to see the man Shannon was bound to marry today. What would he look like, sound like and act like? Would he have treated her decently, had they actually married? A lump the size of a golf ball formed in his throat as the last question passed through his mind. “Davin,” Bernie snapped again.
Keeping his eyes glued to the entryway, Spinelli swallowed hard to prepare himself for the man about to enter.
Davin rounded the corner of the kitchenette, stopped, and shifted his gaze until it landed on Riordan, his father. Spinelli studied the small man with bright blue eyes and thick wavy red hair before he glanced back at the little person tied to the chair. Twins, identical twins.
Everything suddenly made sense. They’d sent Davin to Bernie as a diversion, so his twin could marry Shannon before anyone knew what happened. Another question crossed S
pinelli’s mind. Was the man standing by the kitchenette really Davin O’Brien or was he the man bound to the chair? Other than Davin, his nameless twin, and his dad, who would know which one was which? Would Bernie know? The look on Bernie’s face as he looked between the twins told Spinelli he couldn’t tell either. At this point, it didn’t really matter. They couldn’t have a wedding without a bride. Where on earth were Shannon and Anna, and why were Riordan and one of the twins now tied up?
“This is your fault, Davin. If you were any kind of man, we wouldn’t be here,” Riordan yelled, giving the real Davin away.
Davin’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, I know. I’m always a disappointment. You’ve made that quite clear on more than one occasion.” Davin stepped toward Spinelli, his gaze serious. “Mr. Spinelli, honestly, I came here to try to cut a deal with Bernie and Shannon in hopes to secure my family’s inheritance. I have no idea where she and her friend are at the moment. However, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that my father and Collin are behind their disappearance. They’re crazy and out of control over this whole inheritance thing. I’m sick of it and I’m done with them.”
Spinelli believed him.
“Why you useless little ...” Riordan stared.
Spinelli lunged toward Riordan, his hands gripped the arms of his chair, his face only inches in front of Riordan’s. “Shut up! The only thing I want to hear out of your mouth right now is information about Shannon and Anna’s whereabouts!”
The room fell silent as Spinelli and Riordan continued the stare-down.
Spinelli could feel Walker’s presence at his side but he didn’t say a word. He stayed close, likely to keep him from wringing the old man’s neck.
Riordan’s blue eyes darkened with each passing moment. There was no fear in Riordan’s eyes as there should be for a man bound to a chair, facing two counts of kidnapping. He shared a room with three detectives and a family member who’d just pointed the finger at him. It was clear by his behavior, this man was as crazy as they came.
Riordan’s stone-cold gaze didn’t waver. Spinelli knew he’d stick to his story. Perhaps they could break Collin.
Crazed Reckoning, a Nick Spinelli Mystery Page 10
