7 Die For Me

by Karen Rose

  Dino nodded, his face grim. “And my boys? Are they in any danger?”

  “There’s no indication the killer is paying attention to us cops. But he’s smart and knows we’re after him, so I can’t tell you no. I’ll stay away from here until this is over.”

  Dino looked torn. “We can’t go back in the house until every square inch of carpet’s been replaced. I can look for a rental place between now and then, but it’ll take me a few more days. Nobody else in the family has a house big enough for all of us.”

  “I know Mom and Pop had to sell their place, but I wish they’d done it a little later,” Tino grumbled. “We could have fit ten kids in there.”

  But the old house where they’d grown up had stairs, and his parents’ condo was all on one floor, enabling Michael to conserve his energy. Hopefully, every bit would extend his father’s life a little longer, and Vito found himself wishing his father would live to see his own children, who in Vito’s mind had blond hair and bright green eyes.

  “We could get a hotel,” Dino said doubtfully.

  “No. I think you’re fine here, Dino, really. And when Molly gets out of the hospital you can use the top half of this house. I’ll move downstairs with Tino.”

  “He’s right,” Tino said. “Tess and Dom and I will watch the boys, and soon Vito will save the day and we can all go back to normal craziness.”

  “And I’ll stick around until Molly’s a hundred percent,” Tess said. “So don’t worry.”

  “Your psychiatric practice,” Dino protested. “Your patients.”

  “I have my patients covered. I don’t even have that many anymore. I’d cut back.”

  Because she’d been trying for babies of her own, Vito realized with regret. Tess would make a great mother. If there was any justice, she’d have the family she wanted.

  And so would Sophie. Vito stood up. “I’m going to pack a bag. Dino, plan on moving in whenever you want.”

  Tino’s smile was sly. “Maybe big brother is so quick to offer his roof because he knows he’ll soon have another.”

  “She’s a looker, Vito,” Dino added with a grin. He nudged Dom. “Don’t you think?”

  Dominic blushed. “Stop,” he mumbled.

  “He’s got his eye on a girl at school,” Dino said, and Dominic glared at his father.

  Tess patted Dominic’s arm. “Relax, Dom, and get used to it. Just hope your grandfather doesn’t get wind of it or you’ll really get the third degree.”

  “Third degree about what?” Michael asked, strolling into the kitchen. Without waiting for an answer he began pawing through drawers, messing everything up.

  “What are you looking for, Dad?” Vito asked.

  “Long-handled wooden spoons and those pointy things for holding corn. Sophie’s showing the boys how to make a trebuchet.”

  “Like they needed another way to hurl things at each other,” Dino grumbled, but he got up to help his father look. “A trebuchet, huh? That’s actually pretty cool.”

  Tino lifted a brow. “She’s got a fast bike, can make medieval siege weapons out of household items, and has nice . . . sweaters.”

  Dino laughed. “She sounds like a keeper to me, Vito.”

  “That’s my cue to exit. Tino, I’d appreciate a hand.” Vito had a granny-cam-related request and didn’t want to ask in front of Tess, who had an understandable aversion to hidden cameras, having been an unwilling victim a few years before.

  When Vito returned, his father was on the sofa whittling something from a block of wood. Sophie was on the floor helping the boys build a fort from the books that had once been stacked neatly on his shelves. Pierce looked up, his little face flushed with excitement. “We’re building a castle, Uncle Vito, with a moat and everything.”

  “I never said a moat, Pierce,” Sophie said. “Your uncle wouldn’t like having his living room flooded, so we’re not even going there.” Vito winced when Connor dumped another stack of books next to Sophie, but she just smiled sweetly up at the boy. “Thank you, Connor. How are we doing on that counterweight for the trebuchet, Michael?”

  His father looked affronted. “Quality takes time, Sophie.”

  “Edward the First only needed a few months to build the biggest trebuchet of all time, Michael,” she said dryly. “It could hurl three-hundred-pound weights. We’re only launching popcorn kernels, so hurry up.”

  “We need to be going,” Vito said. “It’s the boys’ bedtime.” And mine, he hoped.

  “Oh, Uncle Vitooooo,” Pierce whined. “Just a few more minutes.”

  “Yeah, Uncle Vitoooo,” Sophie echoed, her whine even better than Pierce’s, and the two co-conspirators snorted with giggles. “Just let us finish the wall around the outer bailey.” She angled him an amused look. “It would go faster if you would help.”

  She looked so happy, Vito couldn’t refuse. Folding himself into position on the floor, he looked around. “Where is Dante? He should be helping.”

  “He didn’t wanna,” Pierce said. “He said he wasn’t feeling well.”

  “He’s sick? Should he go back to the doctor? Maybe he was exposed to more of that mercury than you thought.” Vito started to get up, but his father shook his head.

  “Dante’s physically fine. He’s just dealing with some issues right now.”

  “Dante broke the gas meter,” Pierce said matter-of-factly.

  Vito remembered the stark despair on the boy’s face when he’d found him crying on the back porch a few nights before. “I thought as much. How did it happen?”

  “Neighborhood snowball fight with ice balls in the center for ballast,” Michael said. “One of the neighborhood boys told his mom and Dante had to come clean. On the bad side, he lied at first. Said he didn’t know how it happened. On the good side, Molly’s going to be okay and Dante has a future with the Phillies. The boy has a helluva arm.”

  “He’s got two arms, Granpop,” Pierce said. “And you said the ‘H’ word.”

  “Good strong arms they are, too,” Michael agreed. “And you’re right, I did use the ‘H’ word. I’m sorry, Pierce. I won’t do it again. Here’s your counterweight, Sophie.”

  She’d been watching them with curiosity. “You’ll fill me in?” she asked Vito.

  He let out a breath. “On a lot of things.”

  Thursday, January 18, 11:35 P.M.

  “It was nice of Tess to send dinner home with us,” Sophie said, scraping her plate clean. She sat naked on her bed while Vito lounged against the pillows watching her, simply because he could. She licked her fork. “It’s even good cold.”

  “It wouldn’t have been cold if you’d have let us eat it when we first got back,” Vito teased. “But no, you’re a sex-starved fiend, dragging me up the stairs by my hair.”

  She grinned and pointed her fork at him. “You’re gonna get it.”

  He leered at her. “Promises, promises. Come here and pay up.”

  Sophie’s grin faded. She carefully set their plates aside and Vito knew the moment of reckoning had arrived. “Speaking of paying up, it’s time to come clean, Ciccotelli. I want to know about the roses. I think I’ve waited long enough.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “Her name was Andrea.”

  Sophie’s cheeks grew dark. “And you’ll love her always.”

  To deny it would be wrong. “Yes.”

  Sophie swallowed. “How did she die?”

  He hesitated, then let it out. “I killed her.”

  Sophie’s eyes registered initial shock, then she shook her head. “Tell me the whole story, Vito. Start at the beginning.”

  “I met Andrea through a case, the murder of a teenager. Andrea’s little brother.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes grew sad. “It’s hard to lose family like that.”

  Vito thought of Elle, the name Katherine had let slip, and wondered who she was. But it was his turn to come clean, and he was no welsher. “Nick and I were working the case, and I was attracted to Andrea. She was attracted, too, but she f
ought it at first.”

  “Why?”

  “Part of it was that she was still grieving. She was afraid she’d turned to me on a kind of emotional rebound. But there were other complications. Not only was she part of an active case, she was a cop, and I outranked her. But I pushed and pursued.”

  One side of Sophie’s mouth lifted wryly. “I think I’ve witnessed that myself.”

  “And I thought long and hard before I sent you that present. I didn’t want to push you if you really didn’t want to be pushed. But you fascinated me, Sophie.”

  “You did it just right. You left it all up to me. But this isn’t about me, so continue.”

  “Eventually I pushed enough that Andrea caved, but she was afraid her boss would find out. We decided to keep quiet until we figured out how far our relationship was going to go. Then we’d need to make some career decisions. Didn’t seem worth rocking the boat until we knew if we had something permanent.”

  “But you thought you did.”

  “Yes. After a few months, we decided we’d come clean with our bosses. Liz was mine, and I trusted her to help us find the best solution. Andrea’s boss wasn’t so magnanimous, and Andrea expected trouble. All through this, Nick and I had been working her little brother’s murder. Turns out her big brother did it. Andrea was devastated.”

  “Why would one brother kill another?”

  “Drugs. Big brother was a major meth user, little brother got in the way. The night she died, I’d just gotten home from her place when I got a call from Dispatch. A neighbor had seen Andrea’s older brother come back and called 911.” He sighed. “Later we found Andrea had given him money.”

  Sophie winced. “She was helping him escape.”

  “Yeah, but Nick and I didn’t know that. I never would have dreamed it even possible. We got to her place, had backup covering the exits. Andrea wasn’t even supposed to be there. She’d left her apartment when I did. She was on duty.”

  “But she was there.”

  Vito closed his eyes, remembering it all too clearly. “Yeah. She was there. Andrea’s brother heard us announce ourselves. We think Andrea tried to get him to surrender and when he wouldn’t she pulled her gun on him. But he hit her in the head with a chair. We found the chair with her hair and blood on it. Again, later. We evacuated the residents and stormed the apartment. Her brother started shooting.”

  “He’d taken her gun.”

  “Yeah. It was night by then and we trapped him in a stairwell. He shot out the light and it was . . . really dark. Nick turned on his flashlight and the punk bastard shot at him. Grazed Nick’s shoulder and Nick shut the light off. The brother kept firing. When our eyes got used to the dark we could see his outline, so we returned fire. After a minute he stopped firing and we turned our maglights back on. He was dead. So was she.”

  She rubbed his arm. “Oh, Vito. He’d used his own sister as a shield?”

  “We didn’t know. We didn’t even know she was in the building. He’d knocked her unconscious and was dragging her down the stairs. I guess he figured he’d have a hostage. If I’d allowed him to get outside, we would have seen her.”

  “If you’d allowed him to get outside, he would have had a whole lot more targets, Vito. Every evacuated resident and every curious passerby. You contained him. I can’t imagine you were found at fault.”

  “I wasn’t. There was an investigation, just like every time you fire your weapon. This one was deeper, because people died. A cop died.”

  “Nobody found out about you and Andrea?”

  “No. We’d done a really good job of being discreet. Only Nick knew, because I said something when I saw her lying on the stairs.” Covered in blood. “Tino knew, because I told him last year on the one-year anniversary. I was ploughed.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “Liz suspected. I didn’t know Katherine knew until last night.”

  Sophie sighed. “For what it’s worth, she never would have mentioned it if she hadn’t been terrified for me. She’s a good keeper of secrets. Veritable cone of silence.”

  Vito lifted a brow. “Not that veritable. She mentioned Elle.”

  Sophie’s eyes rolled. “I guess the cone of silence has a crack.”

  “Elle died,” Vito said. “She was your . . . what, sister?”

  “How did you guess?”

  “Katherine said that Anna finally gave up her touring when she realized ‘she’d been given another chance with Sophie and Elle.’” He shrugged. “Plus, I am a detective.”

  “Not a good builder of trebuchets, though, but I’ll let that pass.”

  He ran his fingertips along the fine line of her jaw. “Who was Elle, Sophie?”

  “My half sister. She was born when I was twelve. I’d been in France for the summer and came home to find everyone in an uproar. Gran had been on tour when Lena dropped another bundle of joy into Harry’s arms. Elle wasn’t even a week old.”

  “Your mother has the maternal instincts of a crocodile.”

  “Crocodiles take much better care of their young. That was when Anna completely retired. She canceled all her engagements except for Orfeo, because it was in Philly.”

  “So I really was lucky to have heard her when I did.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  “So Anna raised Elle.”

  “Anna and I. Mostly me. Anna was never the maternal type. ‘Do something with this baby,’ she’d thunder when I got home from school, but I didn’t mind. Elle was mine.”

  “The first time you truly had someone of your own?”

  She smiled, very sadly. “Once again, I’m not that hard to figure out. Elle had some health problems, including a really serious food allergy, so I watched her like a hawk. Especially the times Lena would breeze back in. She was never careful with Elle.”

  “Lena came back?”

  “From time to time. She’d feel a little guilty, come back, hold Elle, then leave a day or two later. At the beginning I hoped Elle would be enough to make Lena finally settle down, even if she hadn’t for me. But she didn’t. Time passed, Elle got bigger.” Sophie’s mouth curved. “She was a beautiful child. Looked like a Botticelli angel with ringlets and these big blue eyes. My hair was straight as a board and I was tall and gawky, but Elle was truly stunning. People would stop and stare. And give her things.”

  “Things? Like?”

  “Usually harmless things like stickers or a doll. Sometimes they’d give her treats, which would scare me because she was so allergic. We had to read every label.”

  Vito thought he could figure out where the story was going. “So one day Lena came back when you weren’t around and fed her the wrong thing.”

  “The night of my senior prom. I’d never had many dates. I was always too busy with Elle. I’d even stopped going to France during the summers. But it was my prom. And my date was Mickey DeGrace.”

  “He was something special, I take it,” Vito said dryly.

  “I’d drooled over Mickey DeGrace all through high school. He’d never paid attention to me, but Trisha, Katherine’s daughter, got it in her mind that I needed a makeover. It worked, and for the first time in my life, Mickey was drooling over me. Prom night came, and we’d . . . well, we’d stepped away from the dancing. Mickey knew all the best make-out places in the school. I was just so thrilled to have him interested, I went with him.”

  This was definitely not good, Vito thought. Dead sister guilt layered with the guilt of sexual experimentation. “What happened, Sophie?”

  “We were . . . you know. Then I get this tap on the shoulder and I thought, ‘I’m gonna get expelled.’ I could see my college hopes dashed with my first and only indiscretion.”

  “You were a virgin,” he said and she nodded.

  “I think that was the draw for Mickey. He’d had all the other girls. I was fresh meat. Anyway, I was thinking of how I was going to explain . . . that . . . away, then I saw the teacher’s face and . . . I knew. She never even noticed Mickey pul
ling up his pants.”

  “It was Elle. Lena had come.”

  “Lena had come and taken Elle out for ice cream. The teacher rushed me to the ice cream parlor, but it was too late. Katherine was there, crying.” Sophie exhaled heavily. “She was zipping up the bag when I ran up, still in my prom dress. She looked up and saw me and . . .” Sophie shuddered.

  “Just like on Sunday,” Vito said, and she nodded.

  “Just like. Next thing I remember I was waking up right here. Uncle Harry was asleep, there.” She pointed to a chair. “Elle was dead. Lena had gotten her a sundae with extra nuts. Her throat swelled and she suffocated. Lena killed her.” She looked up, bitter anger in her eyes. “I’d say that’s a damn good reason to hate my mother, Vito.”

  “Did Lena know she had an allergy?”

  Sophie’s eyes flashed. “She might have had she stuck around long enough. I don’t know what Lena knew, but Elle wasn’t her child to just take. She was mine.”

  Vito remembered Katherine’s words at the crime scene the Sunday before. “It was an accident,” she’d said. Vito wisely decided that although he agreed, he would not make the same mistake of telling Sophie so. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  She drew a deep breath and let it out. “Thank you. It actually helps, telling it. After she died I was so depressed. I couldn’t stand being in this house. Everything reminded me of Elle. So Harry sent me to my father. Alex convinced me to stay in France, go to the university in Paris. That’s where I met Etienne Moraux. Alex had connections and cash to pay for my schooling. I had good grades, fluent French, and dual citizenship. I made a good assistant to Etienne, who was one of the leading archeologists in France.”

  “So how did Brewster fit in the picture?”

  “Anna wanted me to come home, so I applied at Shelton College for grad school. Alan Brewster was already a legend, and getting my grad degree under him would have been very, very prestigious.” She winced. “I didn’t mean that as a joke. Under him.”

  “I didn’t think you did,” Vito said. “So you studied with Brewster and . . .?”

  “Fell madly in love. Every time I’d try to date a guy my own age I’d think of Mickey DeGrace, and then Elle, so I didn’t date. Until Alan. He was the first man who didn’t remind me of Mickey. I thought he loved me. We were on a dig in France and Alan paid me attention. Pretty soon we were burning up the sheets in his tent. Then I found out Alan was married, that he slept with all his assistants and . . . that he talked about it. Freely. But he did give me an A,” she ended bitterly. “I was a ‘most able assistant.’”