I watched Jeremy get into a small, rusty-yellow car and slowly edged out to follow him. I followed several blocks out towards Lincoln Park to see him pull off onto the side of the road outside Yolk’s Restaurant on Lakeview. Jeremy was in Yolk’s for a few minutes and came back out with dinner to go.
I did notice that Jeremy had what looked like two large containers of food in his to go bag. So, either he was a major pig, which would be no huge stretch, or someone else was working in that office with him. Someone I had yet to see come and go. I stayed in the Jeep, sitting outside the betting shop for another hour and a half with no other activity before deciding to call it a night.
Waking up in my own bed for the first time in days, I stretched and lingered a few minutes to enjoy the morning. I had a good feeling about the day. I just knew today I would have some positive progress. Breathing deep, I kicked off my covers to dress for a run.
After a few miles, my mind felt clear and I felt great. I had really needed to stretch my legs and work up a good sweat. I showered and made a quick breakfast, heavy on the coffee.
Driving into town to pay my office rent, I decided to grab a cappuccino, ‘cause who can have too many cups of coffee? Fate was smiling on me, because I turned the corner, I noticed a little yellow car stopped in front of HERO Coffee Bar. I grinned and parked to go in.
The little coffee shop wasn’t one I had stopped into before, and looking around I was surprised. They had a great selection of coffees and food. A chalkboard hung behind the counter with the menu and a large sign that said, “Every morning is a coffee morning!” Too true, my friend, I thought.
I spied Jeremy at the counter with two large coffees and pointing out at large maple long johns, with what looked to be a long strip of bacon on top. He pulled out his wallet to pay the clerk, excitedly taking the bagged doughnuts and coffee tray to leave. He was practically drooling over the bag. It was disgusting.
Stepping in front of him, I said “Good morning! Looks like you’ve got yourself a nice breakfast there!”
Shocked, Jeremy stopped in his tracks, giving me a frustrated look. “Uh, yeah.” He shifted to move around me, but I side stepped in front of him again.
“Not so fast!” I said holding my hands up. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” I ended with a sugary sweet smile on my face.
Jeremy glanced around the shop, clearly uncomfortable. I stuck out my hand, “Detective Malone, remember? I talked to you on the phone recently. About Suzanne Mennon?”
I watched his face closely for emotion but hadn’t needed to. The man’s face went white, then red. He was easier to read than a first grader. And he obviously knew more about Suzy than what he said on the phone. Bingo!
“I told you I didn’t know anything about that,” Jeremy proclaimed, waving his coffee in the air.
I dropped my hand, and the act. “Yeah, so you said. But you see, I don’t really believe you. In fact, I think you killed her.”
I focused on Jeremy and watched him get mad. “What? I didn’t kill Suzy!,” he said, then looked around and lowered his voice. “You’ve really got some balls threatening me like this!”
His face was getting red now. I worried about pushing him too far. If he was holding Suzy hostage, he might hurt her if he thought there was a threat. But as I weighed my decisions, it had been 12 days, and this was my first face to face meeting with him. I needed to see his reaction. He definitely didn’t like the threat, but I didn’t quite get remorse, it was mostly fear. But to be fair, he was working for Dessi and likely not the most upstanding citizen.
“I think you did. I know what you did and I’m going to prove it,” I bluffed. I wanted to shake him up some and see what he would do. I had already blown my cover. Go big or go home. I could care less about the customers watching us. The guy behind the counter was looking nervous.
“You don’t know anything!” Jeremy snarled. “Lady, I don’t think you know who you’re messing with.”
If looks could kill, I’d have been pushing up daisies. He stomped out of the store, his doughnut bag clenched in his fist.
I shrugged and turned back to the front of the store. Quite a few of the patrons were looking around, eyes large. I finger waved at them and walked up to the counter for my cappuccino.
I was having a pretty good day. Jeremy Jones confirmed that he knew more about Suzy than he had said previously. He had called her ‘Suzy’ this time, instead of ‘that lady’, ‘the lady with the rack’, or even ‘Suzanne’ as I had. I had a solid lead.
It was a good day, indeed.
Meanwhile, back at the betting shop,
“I shouldn’t have listened to you!” Jeremy shouted at Suzy, grabbing her arm too tightly. “I just ran into that detective and she accused me of killing you! How would she know anything about me?”
“Jer, calm down. I’m sure she doesn’t know anything!” Suzy said, trying to placate him.
“I should have killed you a long time ago, and now with her watching me, it’s going to be a lot harder to get rid of your body,” Jeremy said throwing her over onto the cot set up in the back room. He was sweating more than normal from the fear and starting to reek. “I’ve got to get rid of you immediately. I just have to find a place to dump your body. And I have to call Dessi and let him know that bitch detective is poking around again. He doesn’t know I still have loose ends. He’s going to ask questions and I’m going to have to make something up about you.”
Suzy shook with fear. “Jeremy, it’s okay. She was probably just trying to gauge your reaction. I’m sure she doesn’t know anything. You’ve been so careful, so smart! What could she know? You didn’t actually kill me. She has nothing.”
Jeremy looked down at her, calming a little. “You might be right. I didn’t leave any clues behind. If you hadn’t picked that gas station, there wouldn’t have been any witnesses at all.”
“That just made you the last one to see me. That’s hardly a lead,” Suzy said, blowing it off and trying to soothe Jeremy.
“Well, that may be true, but I still have to get rid of you right away. I’ve told you that all along. Dessi doesn’t know you’re still alive. He might ask questions about where I dumped you. I’m going to have to come up with something.”
“Okay, yeah, I understand. I’ll just help you out with tonight’s numbers and go over the cheat sheet with you one more time. That gives you a couple of days to make your plans.” Suzy said, hoping it would have her a couple more days.
Jeremy looked at her with a frown. Suzy wasn’t sure he bought it, but he nodded and got out his doughnut. She knew she had to act fast and that tonight may be her last chance at finding a way out.
Chapter 5
The gates at the Arlington Racecourse were just opening when I pulled in. I had spent the rest of the morning dropping off monthly bills and coming up with a plan. The hour long drive out to Arlington Heights offered plenty of time to think.
Dessi hadn’t arrived yet. According to the waitress at Dessi’s executive box, he didn’t show up until closer to 2:30pm, as the first post wasn’t until 3:15pm. So, I wandered around a bit, placed a small bet and got a Cactus Cooler at the bar. I kept my sunglasses on as I scanned the crowd.
By the time that I made it back to Dessi’s box, he had already arrived. I could only assume it was him, because I figured no one else would be wearing a full suit, complete with vest, in the middle of the day. Sure, others were dressed up, but none quite with the polish as he had in his tailored dove gray suit.
He stood with a self-assuredness that could be none other than Fabian Dessi. I was surprised to see that he was fairly young, maybe mid to late 30’s, and quite attractive. He had dark, slicked back hair and stark, Italian features on a tall, fit build. He was currently standing outside of his box talking to an older couple.
I wandered over toward them, pretending to watch the pre-race crowd mingling. Dessi was expounding on one of the horses, Admiral Buttercup. He was going into detail about br
eeding and pre-race supplements, blah de blah.
I was busy eavesdropping, pretending to look over the race program, when Dessi said, “Who do you think has the best chance?” in my direction. I glanced over, surprised to see him looking at me, eyebrows raised. “I’m always interested to find out who people are talking about.” The sly look on his face made me wonder if he meant the statement to be pointed at more than the horses.
“Well, I bet on African Queen. I always liked that movie.” I explained, brushing down where the breeze had lifted my red hair. “I have a very complex betting formula. It was between her and Napoleon’s Dynamite.”
“I believe that’s Natalia’s Dynamite,” Dessi added with a grin.
“Ah, well, then I made a good choice. Of course, Rum Punch sounded awfully good as well.” I added, nodding sagely.
Dessi was smiling broadly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I wonder if I should change my bet. I put quite a large sum on Admiral Buttercup. My sources must have been wrong.”
“Looks like it. I mean, had it been Princess Buttercup, he’d be a shoe in. Or, rather she would be.”
“I like your sense of humor,” Dessi said appreciatively. “I’m Fabian Dessi. These are dear friends of mine, Greg and Beth Hammond.” Dessi reached out to shake my hand.
“Mal,” I offered, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Dear, have you ever been out to Arlington Racecourse before?” Beth asked.
“No, I’m afraid it’s my first time. I’ve been wanting to come out here for ages, but never got around to it. It’s very exciting,” I lied. I had very little interest in gambling, not when I worked as hard as I did for what little I earned.
I eyed the field and those getting ready for the race. I couldn’t imagine putting my hard-earned money on a chance. How easy it would be to just lose it in an instant. I mean, unless you knew something, the odds were really not in your favor.
“Well, you are in for a treat! It’s all very exhilarating!”
“I can only imagine.”
“Well, Fabian darling, we must be off. Many more to say hi to before the race,” Beth said, waving at them both. “Enjoy the race!”
“Enjoy the race!” Greg added as they walked away.
“So, Mal,” Dessi turned to me with a smile. “While it’s wonderful to have finally met you. I’m betting you have other questions on your mind.” At my confused expression, he added, “Oh, please, Detective Malone. Let’s not be shy.”
It was my turn to be surprised. I had been made. How had Dessi heard of me? Even if Jeremy had told him I was looking for Suzy, he wouldn’t have had my picture. I guess even criminals had search engines. Or people to run search engines.
“Mr. Dessi, I must say I’m surprised you know my name.”
“Fabian, please,” Dessi replied. “I know a lot of things, about a lot of people. I hear you are looking for someone in particular.”
“Yes, a woman named Suzanne Mennon. She went missing 12 days ago. She left for lunch one day and hasn’t been seen since. The last person to have seen her was Jeremy Jones. I believe he works for you.”
“Yes. Jeremy does, in fact, work for me. As do several dozen other employees. Jeremy manages bets for me at one of my off-track betting parlors. I don’t personally know Jeremy all that well, however. Has he been sufficiently helpful? I can only imagine what Mr. Mennon would be going through, being left by his wife,” Dessi shook his head sadly.
“I don’t believe that Suzy left her husband,” I interjected, not believing his empathy for one minute. “I believe she was kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped? How horrible!” Dessi replied, complete with a put-on shocked expression. “And you believe Jeremy had something to do with it?”
“It’s a thought.”
“Jeremy might not be the model citizen, but Miss Malone, that betting parlor isn’t in the best of neighborhoods. It takes a certain kind of person to run a shop with that clientele. He takes bets and does some very simple bookkeeping for me. I would hardly say that Jeremy was the kidnapping and plotting sort.”
“Be that as it may, Mr. Dessi, I have to follow every lead I can,“ I replied, taking a sip from my drink. I leveled my gaze at him. “I will find out what happened to Suzy.”
“Oh, I do hope so,” Dessi replied, meeting my look with one of cold calculation. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“I’ll be in touch,” I assured him. Whatever was going on with Suzy, had to do with Dessi. I was sure of it.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Dessi returned with a slow, predatory smile.
Turning to leave, I had to reign in my cool. What I really wanted to do was to knock that smile off his face. It looked like I was going to make a late-night visit to that betting shop. But first, I had to get back to North Center, change and make it to Mantovani’s by 4:30.
I made it. Just in time. I really should have taken the time to eat something before I left the house, but I was pressed for time as it was. The smell of Italian herbs and freshly baked dough sent my stomach rumbling and my mouth watering.
Petite Pete got an apron for me and showed me the menu. It was fairly simple. They offered a few Italian dishes, but mostly it was a pizza joint with a salad bar. A salad bar that looked really good.
I met the rest of the wait staff. There was Marian and Carl, two young college kids, and Phil, a middle-aged, feminine, drama queen, but otherwise seemed nice enough. Lou and Tom worked in the kitchen and Sally worked behind the bar. Marco was currently filling in with Lou and Tom prepping pizza’s, but Peter said he’d move out to the floor at 6pm for the dinner rush.
And then there was Shelly. I wasn’t sure what she had going on with her hair, but it looked like it might have housed several woodland animals. It was a dark blonde color, puffed up several inches high, with a fan of bangs covering her eyebrows and cheeks. The back was pinned up halfway, likely to keep the critters in, with the remaining hair curled within an inch of its life, teased big with the whole thing sprayed to a shiny shellac that looked to withstand category 4 winds. Shelly Mantovani was Peter’s wife and Domenico Poggialis’ sister. I guess when you’re Dom’s sister, you can wear your hair however you like and no one says anything.
Shelly was busy flitting about in the back, giving helpful tips to the servers in her painted-on jeans, stilettos and tight hot pink tank top. She pointed out where the cooks were adding too much cheese or sausage with her dark teal nails and then teetered back into the office in the back.
After she left, the employees rolled their eyes and went back to what they were doing. They seemed to respect Petite Pete but listened to Shelly only while she was watching. Peter seemed oblivious to the whole situation.
After taking a few orders and juggling drinks, I finally had a few minutes to mosey into the kitchen. Marco was still prepping ingredients and starting on some of the new pizza orders while Lou and Tom were finishing pans of lasagna and chicken parmesan and sliding them into the warming drawers. It smelled good, but hotter than hades near the wood fired pizza oven. I shifted further from the ovens and poked around a bit.
“So, Shelly sure is a character, huh?” I prodded. I knew that Shelly was Marco’s aunt, but a new waitress probably wouldn’t.
Tom and Lou slid glances toward Marco and Tom replied, “She’s alright. A little odd, but nice enough.”
Marco laughed, “It’s okay guys.” He turned to me, “Shelly’s my aunt. She’s a little on the eccentric side and tends to micromanage, but she doesn’t typically hang around for long. She just wants to be helpful.”
“Oh, sorry! I didn’t know you were related.” I pretended to be surprised.
“It’s alright. Aunt Shelly takes a little getting used to. But like I said, she’ll get bored and head out pretty soon.” Marco pointed, “Look. There she goes!”
I looked toward the back office to see the rail thin, garish Shelly heading out the back door, Coach bag in hand. Marco s
eemed pretty normal and easy going. No red flags yet, but because he helped off and on in the kitchen, no one was used to seeing him regularly. It was easier for him to be missing for any length of time than the other employees.
Now that Shelly was out of the office, I had a chance to snoop in there. I stood around chatting for a few more minutes, then headed back to the floor to check on tables and deliver pizzas.
Sally had a pitcher of beer waiting for one of my tables and told me to watch my ass. I gave her a questioning glance and she nodded to the table right behind me. The table was full of college-aged guys staring at my butt. I nodded a thanks and delivered the beer.
Sally certainly was a woman with few words, but she had sass. She had short, straight, dark hair and didn’t take shit from anyone. She wore her red Mantovani’s pizza t-shirt tight, with the sleeves cut off at the seam. I liked her immediately.
When I had the chance, I slipped into the back office. Peter was busy in the back with the cooks and it was easier without him hovering, telling me what was important and what wasn’t.
I made sure I wasn’t visible from the kitchen and took a look around the place. It looked like Shelly and Peter both had desks in here, but Shelly’s was larger and had a lot of busy items on her desk. Framed photos of herself and Peter, a rhinestone covered stapler, personalized stationery and other superfluous items took up the majority of her desk. Peter’s desk was small and organized, with a small stack of file folders on his desk and a couple of file cabinets below.
I flipped through some of the files in both desks and dug through the drawers a bit but couldn’t stay long. I would be missed if I didn’t get back out on the floor. I did, however, find a bank ledger, filled out by hand oddly enough, and took a few minutes scanning the typical expenses and deposits in comparison to the nights Marco worked. I was looking for connections, less nightly income, higher expenses, anything.
Bad Company Page 4
