Riddle Me This (Detective Kate Rosetti Mystery Book 2)
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Special Thanks:
To Alex and Leo—my best friend and my ONE-YEAR-OLD! Happy birthday, buddy! я тебя люблю!
To my family—for coming to wave through the door for the last two months at us!
To Stacia—for keeping me sane, making me laugh, and giving me the best advice!
To my family, friends, and LaManna’s Ladies, thank YOU for making this career possible!
Riddle Me This
Kate Rosetti, Volume 2
Gina LaManna
Published by LaManna Books, 2020.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
RIDDLE ME THIS
First edition. May 1, 2020.
Copyright © 2020 Gina LaManna.
Written by Gina LaManna.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Author’s Note
This book is dedicated in loving memory of Sylvia Galewski. We miss you.
Blurb
Detective Kate Rosetti is not a big fan of February 14th. Even worse than gigantic bouquets of roses and buckets of chocolate, however, are the love notes she’s been receiving from the murderer who very nearly stole her life.
Unfortunately, a peaceful Valentine’s Day isn’t in the cards for Kate Rosetti. When she gets the news that the infamous serial killer Ramone Wilkes has escaped from prison, she knows the chances are good that he’s making his way north to the streets of St. Paul to finish the job he started two years ago.
Capturing Ramone “The Dentist” Wilkes during his first killing spree was no breeze, and this time, luck might not be on Kate’s side...
Chapter 1
The week before Valentine’s Day brought a familiar gray slush across the Twin Cities that had locals feeling crankier than usual. Minnesota had reached the point of winter where snowfall was no longer charming. Cute and beautiful and quaint had gone out the window with the Christmas holidays. Now, the weather was dirty and annoying and cold. The wind whipped across the plains, wrapping around every exposed piece of skin, and the drudgery of early evenings had residents going stir-crazy.
I shuffled toward my mother’s café and pulled the door open, stamping my wet boots on a welcome mat already soaked through from others doing the exact same thing. A soft squelch sounded beneath my feet as I tugged my scarf off and moved to the counter.
“It’s supposed to warm up next week,” my mother said. “Enjoy this chill while it lasts!”
“Why would I enjoy that?” I thumbed outside. “It’s miserable.”
“Exactly. Who wants to commit a crime in weather like this?”
My phone beeped with a text message. I glanced down, saw my partner’s name on the screen. “I guess we’ll find out.”
“You caught a case?” My mother frowned. “In weather like this?”
My mother cutely believed that criminals cared about the weather. Unfortunately, as the Twin Cities Task Force’s youngest female detective, I knew better. A lot better.
Tapping the screen on my phone, I found the message from Jimmy. I exhaled. “Not yet. Jimmy just wants to know if I can pick him up a soy latte. Half-caff, doctor’s orders.”
“He didn’t say that.” My mother leaned over and peeked at my phone to see what Jimmy had actually written. “It says right there that Detective Jones wants a whole milk latte with four pumps of vanilla and three shots of espresso.”
“By doctor’s orders, I mean my orders,” I said. “He’s going to kill himself if he keeps going with his usual. I know he’s retiring in a year, but I’d like to hold onto him until then.”
“You should talk.” My mother slid a s’mores latte across the bar to me. “Maybe if you’re not busy today, you could help out around here for a bit. Your sister—”
“Look at that,” I said, glancing down at my phone and feigning an imaginary beep. “I’m probably going to catch a case soon. I can feel it. I should get back to the station. Those cold cases are getting colder by the day.”
Still, it seemed my mother was correct on one front. Ever since we’d wrapped a big case just before Christmas, murderers around town had taken a hiatus from gruesome crime.
Aside from a couple of suicides and an open and closed domestic violence case, we’d had a slow few weeks. It wasn’t that I was hoping for the murderers to come back out in droves, but I was getting sick of paperwork. I was about ready to start scratching out parking tickets just to get out of the office.
“Good morning, detective.” A voice startled me from behind. “Good morning, Ms. Rosetti.”
I spun around and came nose to nose with a boyishly charming smile, curly dark hair that flopped over a handsome face, and a set of gleaming eyes that could only belong to one Alastair Gem. His British accent had the effect of drawing the eyes of several women sitting around the coffee shop as they studied him indiscreetly through their lashes.
“Gem,” I said. “What brings you to our neck of the woods?”
“You,” he said simply. “You haven’t been particularly responsive to my messages or my invitations to escape to the Bahamas for some sunshine and fresh air. I can have the plane gassed up in an hour.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Oh?” Gem didn’t look convinced by my lies.
“And I’m not interested in your plane.”
“Is that right?”
“I really am busy. Actually, my mother was just saying she needed some help around here, so I should probably let you go—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” My mother leaned over the counter and gave me a nudge toward Gem. “I’ve got it under control here. Go on, sit down. Have a chat. I’ll bring over some pastries. Mr. Gem, what do you like for coffee?”
“Anything is fine,” he said with a smile. “Do you have a minute, detective?”
“Okay.” I shifted uncomfortably and agreed mostly to get out from under the stares of curious looky-loos watching our exchange. “Over in the corner. I don’t have long. I have to get to the station.”
“Ah.” Gem guided me through the crowded coffee shop. “Paperwork calling your name?”
I eased into the seat and found the menu for the Seventh Street Café, my mother’s pride and joy. She focused on coffees with a side of pastries and had started this place out of desperation and a pinch of hope after she and my father had divorced when I was five. The fact that it was a block away from the building where I worked was nothing but sheer, unfortunate coincidence.
“I’m sorry to be tracking you down like this,” Gem said, “but you’ve proven hard to get ahold of.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” I said, thinking of several unreturned calls and messages Gem had left on my phone. “Like I said, I’ve been busy.”
“With Russo?”
I blinked, surprised he remembered the name of the FBI agent who’d pa
rtnered with me on my last big case. “Russo?”
Gem smiled at my stalling tactic. “I assumed he was the one who picked you up the night you left my party early. My driver mentioned you had someone waiting outside for you.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Oh?”
“I mean, it was like that—sort of,” I said. “Russo picked me up, but we were just friends. We still are. He’s out in DC, I’m here in the Twin Cities.”
Gem studied me carefully, and I got the impression he wanted to ask more questions on the subject. The look in his eye told me he didn’t want to know the answers, so instead, he kept silent.
“I really haven’t been ignoring you,” I said. “I texted you a few times—”
“I recall.”
“But I’ve been busy,” I repeated lamely.
“I’m here on business, lucky for you.”
“You are?” My mouth parted in shock as a furious heat crept up the back of my neck. “Oh, well, in that case...”
“Don’t worry, I forgive you for assuming otherwise.” Gem gave a playful wink. “But despite my tenacity, I can understand a rejection when I see one. It’s clear you are intent to ignore my invitations to the Bahamas, so I will lay off.”
“I find that hard to believe. How many rejections do you get?”
“Not many,” he said, “hence the reason they’re so memorable. Don’t worry, I’m quite persuasive. I’ll wear you down yet.”
“I thought this was business.”
“It is,” Gem said. “In a sense. There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about in regard to Gem Industries.”
“Is this about my sister?”
“Not unless your sister has complaints about her job.”
Jane Rosetti had taken on the role of manager at Rubies after her boyfriend, Wes Remington, had gotten the place up and running smoothly. As far as I knew, it was the longest she’d held a job in... well, her entire life.
“No, she loves it,” I said. “I just—forget it. Is your business criminal? Have you gone to the police?”
“If you let me explain, your questions will be answered.” Gem brushed a curl out of his eyes. His gaze glittered with amusement. “Though I appreciate the enthusiasm.”
I was a little too busy appreciating Gem while he spoke. His high-cut cheekbones stood out against his bright eyes, and his lips—which I knew from our whisper-kiss at Christmas—were perfectly soft. He wore dress slacks and a crisp white shirt topped with a designer overcoat. A scarf draped lazily over his shoulders and his skin looked naturally tanned as if he’d just rolled off a cruise ship in the Caribbean. Then again, he probably had.
Thankfully, my mother arrived then and put the kibosh on any moment Gem and I might have shared. Those eyes of his were dangerous—they had the power to suck me in without warning. It was half the reason I’d been avoiding him so ardently the last few weeks. I’d come a little too close to kissing him at the Christmas party, and I couldn’t afford a distraction at this point in my career. Especially not a distraction the size of Alastair Gem.
“Coffees for the cuties,” Annie Rosetti said, slinging two fresh cappuccinos onto the table along with the good sugar cubes she normally reserved for special guests. “Enjoy!”
My mother backed away without turning around, watching us with a huge grin on her face. She’d acted the exact same way when I’d come in here with Special Agent Jack Russo. I was beginning to think my mother didn’t care what sort of man I ended up with, so long as my future partner had little-to-no criminal record and the ability to change the marital status of her thirty-year-old unwed daughter.
“She’s...” Gem stared after her.
“Pushy? Intrusive? Obvious? Subtle as a gun?” I suggested.
He turned a grin on me. “She’s great.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure your mother doesn’t try to hitch you off to every available woman who falls onto your lap.”
Gem’s eyes lost a shade of their enthusiasm. He turned his gaze on his cappuccino and pulled it closer toward him, picking up his spoon and spinning it around in his beverage without appearing to actually see it.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” I said into the awkward silence. “You said you had a question on business?”
“Actually—”
“One second.” I held up a finger as my phone rang. “Sorry, but I have to take this.”
I stepped away from the table and answered the line from the precinct that would undoubtedly send me out on a case. My pulse raced with the jolt of adrenaline that came from getting a case—any case. The thrill of the chase. The unknown. The clues waiting to be peeled from a crime scene—questions in need of answers.
“Detective Rosetti,” I answered.
As I listened, I was aware of Gem’s eyes on my back.
“Sure, I’ll be right there.” I hung up, turned to face Gem. “I’m really sorry—I know you said you had business to discuss, but it looks like I’ve got a case.”
Gem’s eyes met mine. He stood, pushed his cappuccino further away from him. “Duty calls.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s not a big deal,” he interrupted. “I didn’t actually have business to discuss. I just wanted to see you.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“No need. I’ll let you take off.” Gem flashed a quick smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Before I could come up with anything else to say, he’d disappeared from the bakery, leaving only the brush of a cool breeze behind him.
“Now, how’d you manage to scare him away so quickly?” My mother arrived at my shoulder. “He didn’t even touch his cappuccino. What a waste of the good sugar.”
“I have to go. Can I get those drinks?”
My mother handed me a to-go tray with three drinks on it. “I figured you’d say that. Dear, if you don’t reconsider your priorities, you’ll never end up married.”
“I’m not interested in ending up married.”
“Are you interested in living alone?” My mother pointedly slapped a few packets of sugar into the spare cup holder on the to-go tray. “Because when your career is over and those dead bodies are tucked away, then what?”
I left my mother behind as I hurried to my car. I didn’t feel like dwelling on any nugget of truth in her statement. She just wanted me to be happy. And to her, happiness was a family. To me, happiness was a blossoming career and... what? I wondered, unlocking the car door and slipping into the driver’s seat. A host of dead bodies?
I cranked the car into drive and set off through the mush and slush toward yet another dead body and forced the rest of my thoughts to the back of my mind. Marriage could wait. Catching a murderer couldn’t.
Chapter 2
“I’m sorry,” Melinda Brooks said when I arrived at the scene. “The chances I’ll rule this a homicide are slim.”
“Really?” I handed over a flat white. “I thought it was a suspicious death.”
“We all thought so, but...” Melinda gestured toward the body which was slumped over the steering wheel of a car. A sock had been shoved in the exhaust pipe and the garage door left closed. “It has every indication of a suicide.”
“That’s the third one this month.”
“It’s a dreary time of year.” Melinda sipped her drink. “Don’t look so disappointed.”
“I’m not disappointed.”
“Warmer weather is coming,” Melinda said. “With it will come the homicides.”
“Yippee. You sound like my mother.”
“Why are you so cranky?” Melinda spun to face me. “No need to be angry at the dead guy.”
I heaved a huge sigh. “I just ran into Gem at the café.”
“Ah. Have you seen him since the party?”
I shook my head. Melinda Brooks, a natural beauty, clothing aficionado, and medical examiner extraordinaire, was one of my very best friends. She, along with Asha West, Erin Lassiter, and me, mad
e up the four musketeers. Melinda handled the medical side of death, I handled the physical investigation. Asha was a genius on the computer, and Lassie had people skills and a blog that kept her mysteriously looped into every aspect of the Twin Cities social scene.
“No, I haven’t seen him around.”
“You’ve been avoiding him,” Melinda said. “Has he called?”
“Multiple times.”
“You’ve been holding out on us.” Melinda smacked my arm. “We were just at Bellini’s last week. I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!”
“There’s nothing to tell. I never called him back.”
“Why not? He’s clearly interested in you.”
“I’m not interested in him... is the problem.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m not. I’m intrigued by him, sure. But I’m not interested in any sort of relationship. And judging by the amount of times he’s called, that’s what he’s after.”
“Alastair Gem?” Melinda raised her eyebrows. “Isn’t it possible he just wants to be friends with you? Or hey—maybe he’s hoping for a fling. That wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Says the girl who hasn’t dated anyone since her fiancé left her at the altar.”
“I’m still getting over Lester.”
“It shouldn’t take six years to get over a man named Lester.”
Melinda allowed herself a small smile. “So, what’d he want?”
“I’m not sure. I had to take off to come here. What makes you so certain it’s a suicide?”
“Kate, don’t turn this into something it’s not. It’s just—”
“Is that who I think it is?” I leaned forward and peered around Melinda’s shoulder. “Is that the up-and-coming newscaster, what’s his name?”
“Harry Brine,” Melinda confirmed. “We’ve been instructed to keep this as quiet as possible. It’s quite tragic.”
“You mean, we’ve been instructed to try and sweep this under the rug.” I straightened. “You know once this gets out it’ll be on every news station. Especially with the lack of awful murders happening, this’ll take over the cycle for the next few days.”