Franki Amato Mysteries Box Set

by Traci Andrighetti

  I snorted. “I don’t believe you.”

  He yawned. “That’s not my problem.”

  Time to shift tactics. “Where were you the night Jessica was killed?”

  “What business is it of yours?”

  He was playing games with me. It was time to get real. “You can drop the act, Preston. I know you strangled Immacolata in her dorm room. Angelica knew it too, so your father paid her to keep her mouth shut and sent her packing to Milan. But she defied your daddy’s orders and returned to New Orleans, so you went to LaMarca and told her to leave town. When she didn’t comply, you went back to LaMarca and killed her the same way you killed Immacolata. You strangled her with a scarf.”

  Stewart leaned forward. “You be careful who you tell that story to, understand? Because I’ll sue you for slander, and I’ll win.” He sat back and crossed his leg over his knee. “Do you really think I, or anyone in my family, was worried about a lousy hundred and twenty grand a year? With all the money we’re worth?”

  “Maybe it wasn’t about the money.” I was pretty sure I’d struck a chord. “I’ll bet Angelica had information that proved you killed Immacolata, and you needed to shut her up once and for all before she went to the police.”

  “What reason would I have had? I can’t be tried for the same crime twice.” He grinned. “That’s what they call double jeopardy, darlin’, and it’s illegal.”

  “No, but the Di Salvos could’ve brought a civil suit against you, which would’ve put a nice dent in the family fortune.”

  “Nah. The only gold digger in that family was Immacolata. And she’s dead, isn’t she?”

  A chill ran down my spine, and my courage wavered.

  The waitress returned with his drink, giving me a moment to regain my composure.

  Stewart took a sip from his glass. “What’s the matter? Didn’t you know about Immacolata’s fortune-hunting ways?”

  I stared at him coldly.

  “I’m surprised, you being a private investigator and all.”

  “I don’t see what her wanting to marry into money has to do with her murder.”

  “Oh, but it has everything to do with it. For the record, Angelica was sexy and savvy. She didn’t need to blackmail anyone for money.” He swirled the brown liquid in his glass. “But poor little Immacolata didn’t have Angelica’s business sense. The only thing she knew was men and money. And she was willing to do anything to catch her a rich husband. When she died, she was sleeping with half the men on campus. But I was the one she’d told her parents about. So when she turned up dead, I was the obvious target.”

  I pursed my lips. “You’re saying that you had nothing to do with Immacolata’s death?”

  “That’s right, and a jury of twelve of my peers agreed with me.” He took a long drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “I rue the day I met her and that crazy twin of hers.”

  I blinked. Concetta had told Veronica and me that she didn’t know Stewart. “You know Concetta?”

  He burst out laughing. “Indeed I do. In the biblical sense.”

  My jaw practically hit the floor. “You had sex with her?”

  “Before I knew Immacolata was better in bed.”

  I ignored his crude comment. “How did you meet her?”

  “We met at a happy hour at the Columns Hotel. Then I met Immacolata by chance at Mardi Gras a couple of months later, and Concetta flipped out. She was jealous of her sister, big time. After I started sleeping with Immacolata, Concetta kept showing up in the middle of the night at my apartment, acting all psycho. I still can’t shake her.”

  I was stunned. “What do you mean you can’t shake her?”

  “I mean that the freak stalks me to this day. She even broke into my apartment once, right after I was acquitted.”

  I scrutinized his face for signs that he might be lying, but it was impossible to tell. “How do you know it was her?”

  “I had a security camera installed. It was definitely Concetta on that tape.”

  The more Stewart spoke, the more I felt that he might be telling the truth. “What did she take?”

  He laughed. “That’s the funny part. I have a wooden chest on my dresser that I keep my cufflinks and watches in. I guess she was trying to save me from the devil or some religious BS like that, because she took a fifteen-dollar bracelet I bought at a voodoo shop and left all of my Rolexes.”

  My blood ran cold. “A v-voodoo bracelet?”

  He waved his hand. “Yeah, you know, one of those kitschy bead things they’re always selling to tourists.”

  “With little skulls.” I said it more to myself than to him. But a nun couldn’t have planted a skull bead at the scene of a crime just to implicate someone who’d spurned her, right?

  “Yup.” He grabbed another handful of nuts. “What a friggin’ whacko.”

  The lounge seemed to close in on me. I had to take my leave and tell Veronica. If Concetta was stalking Stewart, then she could be in the area. And that meant we could all be in danger. I shot to my feet.

  Stewart cocked an eyebrow. “You leaving already?”

  “Yeah, I have all the information I need.”

  “And this was starting to get fun.” He downed his whiskey.

  I turned and walked up the steps to the bar, avoiding eye contact with Veronica. I stepped into the hotel lobby and pulled my phone from my bag. As I headed for the parking garage, I sent a text to Veronica telling her that Concetta could be in the vicinity and might be dangerous.

  And then Mambo Odette’s warning came to me, and it finally made sense—Concetta had taken magic when she’d stolen Stewart’s voodoo bracelet.

  24

  “Where are you, Veronica?” I talked to myself as I pulled into the empty Lenton’s parking lot to feel less alone—and less scared.

  I parked near the employee entrance and left the engine running. I looked in my rearview mirror for about the thirtieth time since I’d left the Carousel to make sure that neither Stewart nor a crazed Concetta had followed me. I grabbed my phone and called Veronica.

  She answered on the first ring. “Hey. I’m almost there.”

  I could hear traffic in the background. “Why did you text me to meet you here? This place is deserted, and creepy.”

  “Ed Orlansky’s secretary called me right before I left the Carousel and said that the DVD had arrived from Baton Rouge. He’s waiting for us inside.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Given the circumstances, I felt like I had a giant target on my back. “So what happened when you left the bar?” I glanced out the window. “Was Stewart still there?”

  “Yeah, he was putting the moves on that waitress.”

  “Oh, no. I wonder if she knew he was an alleged murderer.”

  “I made sure she did before I left.”

  “Good.” We women had to look out for one another. “So what do you think about this business with Concetta?”

  Veronica was silent. “It’s a pretty far-fetched story.”

  “I think so too. But I’m still freaked out that Stewart brought the bracelet up like that, without me even asking him about it.” I glanced at the chipped violet fingernail polish on my left hand.

  “That could have been a calculated move on his part. I mean, if he knew you were a PI, he may have also known that you’d found the skull bead at the crime scene. After all, you did tell Ryan Hunter about the bead—”

  “And he told his attorney who probably told the police.” My heart sunk, and I sunk further into my seat.

  “Right. And you know darned well that Stewart is keeping a close eye on the police investigation into Jessica’s murder.”

  “Oh yeah, I’m sure of that.”

  “Anyway, I’m pulling into the parking lot right now. See you in a sec.”

  I hung up and scanned the area for lurkers. I no longer knew what to think about Stewart, Concetta, or anyone else connected to the case, so I had to stay on my guard.

  Ed Orlansky leaned fo
rward to adjust the brightness of an old PC monitor in an armoire in his office. The combined scent of his Old Spice aftershave and the pomade he’d used to slick back his hair overwhelmed the tiny space.

  He leered at Veronica—make that her breasts. “Is that better?”

  “Yeah.” She frowned.

  Since we had the DVD of the last two scarf purchases in the bag, Veronica had dispensed with the bat-and-twirl. I scrutinized the grainy image of the teenaged girl standing in front of the sales counter. “I think we can move on to the next one.”

  Ed used the mouse to click and drag the video progress bar to the start of the next purchase.

  The video played for thirty seconds before a young man with a Lenton’s nametag approached the cash register. He held the Limoncello scarf in one hand as he scanned the price tag in the other.

  I held my breath as a woman with waist-length brown hair and long bangs stepped to the register holding a billfold. She avoided eye contact with the employee. “This may be our suspect.”

  Veronica nodded. “It’s hard to tell with the quilted down coat she’s wearing, but her body type could be similar to Domenica’s.”

  “Or Concetta’s. It would help if we could tell how tall she is.”

  The employee asked the woman a question, and she shook her head, keeping her gaze lowered.

  Veronica looked at Ed. “Too bad there’s no sound on this video.”

  “We’ll have sound soon now that corporate has finally approved our new digital system. It’s got all the bells and whistles.” He beamed, trying to impress her with the equipment upgrade.

  I turned to Veronica. “Can you make out her face?”

  “Not really. I wish she would look up.”

  “Then we could at least see the shape of her face and mouth. With those bangs, I can’t see her eyes at all.”

  The woman opened her wallet and handed cash to the employee, who placed it in the register drawer. As he handed her a few bills and some coins, she raised her face.

  I sat forward and turned to Ed. “Could you rewind that?”

  “Sure.” He spoke to Veronica instead of me. He rewound the video and paused on the woman’s uplifted face.

  I touched the screen. “Look at her lips. Doesn’t that look like it could be either Domenica or Concetta’s mouth?”

  Veronica cocked her head. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  I slouched in my seat. “Okay, Ed, you can hit play.”

  “You got it.” He again replied to Veronica as he clicked the button.

  While the employee placed the scarf into a bag, the woman put the bills into her wallet but dropped the change. She bent to retrieve the coins and shook her hair from her eyes as she stood.

  “Freeze it right there,” I shouted.

  Ed had been so busy gazing at Veronica’s chest that he started in his seat. “What? What happened?”

  Veronica rolled her eyes. “There’s something we need to see. You know, on the video?”

  “Oh. I knew that.”

  “Here, let me do it.” I batted away Ed’s outstretched arm. I grabbed the mouse and rewound the tape to the shot of the woman’s face. I clicked pause and immediately recognized the close-set eyes.

  Veronica gasped. “That’s Concetta.”

  “Let’s see what happens next.” I clicked play again.

  The woman put the coins into her wallet, took the bag from the employee, and walked away.

  Veronica turned to me. “I think it’s time we take the video and the skull bead to the police.”

  “Hey.” Ed’s eyes opened wide. “What about our dinner tonight?”

  Veronica glared at him, and I stood, crossed my arms, and followed suit.

  Ed’s eyes darted from Veronica to me, and he licked his chapped lips. “I’ll take a rain check?”

  I inserted the key into my front door lock.

  Veronica sighed. “Next time, promise me you’ll keep any evidence you find at the office.”

  “I said I was sorry.” I pushed the door open. “It’s just that so many people pass through there. I thought the bead would be safer here.”

  Veronica followed me into the dark apartment. “Napoleon doesn’t come to greet you?”

  “Not unless he has to tinkle.” I laughed. “Nine o’clock is past his bedtime.” I flipped the light switch by the front door, but the light didn’t come on. “Shoot. The light bulb’s burned out. Will you turn on the kitchen light?”

  “Sure.” She headed toward the kitchen, and I bolted the door behind us.

  The light came on, and Veronica let out a bloodcurdling scream.

  I ran to the kitchen doorway and stopped short.

  Concetta stood in the middle of the room wearing a full habit and surgical gloves, and she held a butcher knife to Veronica’s throat.

  I put my hands to my mouth.

  “Nice décor, Franki.” She smirked. “What are you, a PI by day and a prostitute by night?”

  “Let her go.”

  “I don’t think you’re in any position to call the shots.” Her voice was eerily calm. “Now, why don’t you come over here and sit at the kitchen table?”

  I nodded and did as I was told. I knew from my police training that I needed to establish a rapport with a hostage-taker so that he or she wouldn’t see me as a threat. But there was one glaring problem with that tactic. Veronica and I were threats to Concetta because we were the only ones standing in the way of her freedom. I took a seat and hoped that Veronica was still armed.

  Then I saw the rope on the table.

  Concetta walked Veronica behind me. “Okay, take a piece of rope and start tying the big one up.”

  The big one? It wasn’t enough that she was going to kill me, she had to insult me too?

  “And don’t try any tricks, either. If you don’t tie those knots nice and tight, you’re a goner.”

  Veronica tied my hands behind my back, and I glared at Concetta over my shoulder. “What did you do with my dog?”

  She looked at me like I was an idiot. “I let him out. I’m allergic.”

  I prayed she was telling the truth. If she’d hurt Napoleon, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. That is, if I lived.

  Veronica tightened the rope around my wrists. “Why don’t you let us go, Concetta? You’re in enough trouble, as it is.”

  She let out a hysterical laugh. “I’m not in any trouble. You’d think that would be pretty clear by now to you two crackerjack PIs.”

  I had to keep her talking in hopes that she would get distracted and slip up somehow. “We know you killed Angelica, and the police know it too. Veronica brought them the video file that shows you bought the murder weapon.”

  “You’re bluffing. If she’d stopped to drop off the video, she wouldn’t be here with you now, would she?”

  She had me there.

  Concetta pushed Veronica to the floor and threw a rope at her head. “Tie her feet.”

  Veronica threaded the rope around my ankles, and I glared at Concetta again. “We have proof that you did it.”

  She smiled to herself. “You do. But the police don’t.”

  My stomach felt like it had been ripped from my body. That last comment didn’t bode well.

  “You’re right, though.” Concetta’s tone was strangely chatty. “I did kill Angie.”

  Veronica tightened the rope.

  “Get up,” Concetta said through clenched teeth. She pulled Veronica by the hair, causing her to cry out.

  I bit my lip to keep from screaming at her.

  Concetta put the knife to Veronica’s neck with her right hand as she checked the knots with her left. She stood and shoved her into the table. “Take a seat.”

  Veronica stumbled and fell into a chair, and we exchanged a frightened look across the table. If Concetta tied up Veronica, we were goners.

  After selecting a length of rope, Concetta held the knife as she tied Veronica’s wrists behind her back.

  I worked my hands and wri
sts, trying to loosen the rope. Under threat of death from Concetta, Veronica had tied the knots tightly, so I could move each wrist only a fraction of an inch. To make matters worse, the rope cut into my flesh.

  Concetta finished tying Veronica’s hands and took a step back. “I had to do it. Angie knew Stewart had strangled Imma, but she wouldn’t testify against him. She let those horrible people buy her silence so she could get herself a degree, designer clothes, and a career in the fashion industry, all courtesy of the Preston family. But that wasn’t the only reason I killed her.”

  Veronica looked over her shoulder. “What other reason would you have?”

  Concetta grabbed another piece of rope from the table and knelt to tie Veronica’s feet. “You’re both Italian, so you should know about the concept of vendetta. It’s a question of honor.”

  As soon as she said vendetta, I thought of the word vendicata that Domenica had spray-painted on Immacolata’s tombstone. “Did Domenica know you killed Angelica?”

  “Of course not.” She tugged at a knot. “In case you haven’t noticed, my little sister’s not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree.”

  “Then why did she spray paint that Immacolata had been avenged on her tombstone?”

  Concetta stood. “She was celebrating the fact that Angie was strangled with a scarf the same way that Stewart strangled Imma.”

  I continued working my wrists, but I didn’t seem to be making any headway. I hoped that Veronica was making more progress. “Angelica hated cheap scarves and the color yellow. Is that why you chose the yellow-bordered polyester scarf?”

  Concetta smirked. “I wanted her to see yellow and feel cheap fabric on her skin as she was dying. I had to make sure that the last thought she ever had in her wretched life was that she was nothing but a two-bit coward, like her dad.”

  Veronica looked up. “What do you mean?”

  Concetta’s eyes opened wide. “Isn’t it obvious? Angie ran out on her best friend for money. Instead of paying her own way through school and trying to work her way up from the bottom, she did it all the easy way. She kept her mouth shut at the trial so she could get her education and her career bought and paid for.”