Death Comes Home

by K. J. Emrick

  Behind the registration desk stood a young woman with her dark brown hair twisted and piled high on her head in a looping braid. She kept glancing up occasionally from her work, but she didn’t pay them much mind. She was there if someone needed her, Darcy figured, and she was paid to be invisible otherwise.

  Darcy waved to her three friends as she and Ellen got closer. “Hi, Wilson. Thanks for coming all this way.”

  “Did you know,” he said, tapping a finger against the brochure in his hand, “that they have karaoke here on Monday nights? I might just come back to watch some of that.”

  He folded the brochure up again and slid it back into its display. Darcy could only imagine. Drunk gamblers, warbling out the words to “I Will Survive” or “Wrecking Ball.” She smiled at the mental image, and Wilson smiled back, and she was very glad he was here.

  “No uniforms?” Ellen asked him.

  “No jurisdiction,” he answered back. “We’re off duty. I’m here to have a conversation with a man who may or may not be involved with putting a senior detective and my chief in the hospital. Just a talk.”

  At his left shoulder, Kara snorted. She was shorter than either Shane or Wilson, but Darcy could tell that what she lacked in height she made up for in attitude. “You sound like a lawyer, Wilson.”

  “Really?” he quipped. “I was going for smooth but intimidating.”

  “Right,” she said. “Like a lawyer.”

  Shane muttered something under his breath, and Kara bumped her shoulder into his. Well, Darcy thought. Those two have certainly gotten close.

  “I might sound like a lawyer when I need to,” Wilson told them, “but today I’m your acting chief. Tomorrow, God willing, that’s going to change. But for now just do what we planned. You both have the pictures Ellen sent us?”

  They nodded, taking out their cell phones and opening up the photo of the man they were looking for. His name and some other information were at the bottom in blocky text lettering.

  “All right.” Wilson nodded off into the casino, to the right, to the left, and straight ahead. “Let’s find him.”

  They didn’t have to look far.

  Walking up to them was a man with a bull neck and a smile sweet as honey. His dark blue suit was tailor fit to his blocky frame, sporting a cornered red handkerchief in the coat pocket. The smile puckered the lines at his mouth and pulled at the crescent scar under his eye. “Well, hello there,” he said in a low tenor. “Something I can help you with?”

  Darcy stared at him. All this time. All these years. Now here this man was, standing tall and arrogant as always.

  And he might just be responsible for putting Jon in a hospital bed.

  Wilson stretched his hand out in greeting, which was more than what Darcy could have managed for a slime like this. “Hi,” he said, not exactly smiling. “My name is Wilson Barton, I’m from—”

  “I remember you,” the man with thinning black hair said. “I never forget a face. Yours, or that of the lovely Darcy Sweet there.”

  He nodded in Darcy’s direction with a cold, calculating gaze from his piercing gray eyes. It was like she could see him hatching plots behind those pale gray eyes. Or fitting her for a pine box.

  Ellen stepped to the side, where she could be better seen. “You’ve never been introduced to me, big boy.”

  His smarmy smile turned to her. “No. We haven’t. But I know who you are, Miss Ellen Gless. Your reputation is well known by myself and… my associates. You might find that a few of your more gainful employment opportunities came from our group.”

  It wasn’t very often that Darcy got to see Ellen rendered speechless. The idea that a man like him had sent jobs her way—as a hired killer—didn’t sit well with her. The irony was thick enough to cut with a knife.

  “Ah, but I have you at a disadvantage,” he said, almost graciously. “I know Miss Gless, and Miss Sweet, and Detective Barton. However, I see there are some in your company who don’t know who I am. Allow me to introduce myself."

  “We all know who you are,” Darcy told him, finding her voice. “I never forgot your face either, Adolphos.”

  Chapter Ten

  Adolphos Carino. Member in good standing of the criminal organization known as The Hand.

  Which meant he was one of the worst people Darcy had ever met in her life. Which was really saying something, considering the list of people she had met included kidnappers, liars, and murderers.

  For a very bad man, Adolphos had a very nice office.

  He led them through the casino to a room somewhere near the back, his muscles straining at the sleeves of his suitcoat with every arm gesture and at the legs of his slacks with every stride as he showed them around. “Roulette over there. Slots are there. The modern kind, mind you. They use reloadable cards that the casino provides to our guests. Got three new machines coming in next week. Can’t keep up with the demand. As you see, those doors over there lead through to the stage. There’s a rather big headliner coming in next month. Quite hush hush for now.”

  Darcy hated him more with every word. Someone this despicable should not be enjoying this kind of success. She knew she didn’t have half a clue about every bad thing he might have done in his life, but if the world were the least bit fair then the things she did know about would have put him in prison for the rest of eternity.

  Unlocking a door marked private, Adolphos led them through to a spacious room dominated at the far end by a heavy wooden desk and a leather upholstered chair that swiveled as he swaggered past them to it, and sat down.

  “Now, my time is valuable,” he said, motioning for Kara to close the door once they were all in. “I don’t have to speak with you at all, Detective Barton. I am extending you a courtesy not many receive. You are out of your jurisdiction by several townships, and I don’t have a lawyer present in any case. However. As I have nothing to hide, and no idea why you might wish to speak with me, then by all means. Ask me whatever questions you might.”

  Darcy stayed close by Wilson. Shane and Kara stayed back by the door. Ellen busied herself by studying a thoroughly gaudy painting hanging on the wall of two cherubs sitting in the lap of a naked woman. The wings of the cherubs were… strategically placed.

  None of them sat. Not in the padded chairs on their side of the desk, not in the green leather sofa off to the side by the wall of books. This wasn’t a meeting you sat down for.

  “Well, we certainly do appreciate you taking the time,” Wilson said to him. He sounded so much like Jon as he said it that Darcy did a double take. He was imitating Jon’s way of putting people off their guard by acting so friendly and unassuming during an interview that no one would suspect he was actually boxing them into a corner.

  Wilson had learned from the best.

  Adolphos rolled his wrist impatiently in the air. “I’ll give you what time I have, Detective Wilson. Please don’t waste it with false pleasantries.”

  “You’re right,” Wilson agreed, taking a little spiral-bound notebook from his back pocket. “I won’t insult you by trying to record this but I have some questions written down.”

  Drumming his fingers on his desk, the bull-necked casino manager stared at the notebook like it might be a snake that was about to bite him. “Just get on with it.”

  “Well, see, we recently had two of our people put into the hospital. Car accidents.”

  “Maybe you should teach your officers how to drive,” Adolphos suggested in a helpful tone.

  Wilson smiled at that, even if no one else did. “That’s good advice,” he said, “or it would be, if these had really been accidents. We have reason to believe that someone intentionally ran their cars off the road. Tried to kill them, in fact.”

  Shane and Kara both looked up from staring at the floor at the same time. They were watching for a reaction from Adolphos to Wilson’s veiled accusation, just like Darcy was.

  Whatever they were waiting for, they were disappointed.

  Adolphos raised an eye
brow. “And you think I’m the one who tried to kill them?”

  “Did you?”

  It had been asked with a straight face, without hesitation. Adolphos blinked at that. “No. I most certainly did not.”

  “You realize I have to ask,” Wilson continued, almost apologetically.

  “As you say. But I assure you, Detective, I did not try to kill Darcy’s sister, or your beloved Chief.”

  Ellen turned away from the hideous painting to give Darcy a pointed glance. She’d heard it, too. Did Adolphos realize what he just said?

  Wilson tapped the end of his pencil against his notepad. “Now, that’s interesting.”

  Adolphos leaned forward, elbows on the desk, hands folded together. “I’m so very glad that I can amuse you, Detective. However. I’m becoming quite bored with this whole matter. Tell me what I said that interests you so much, and then I think it might be time for you to leave.”

  “I still have more questions.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Adolphos’ voice had taken on an edge. Darcy glared daggers at the man. Was he the one? Was he trying to kill Grace and Jon? Of course he was. Adolphos lived to hurt people. That was what people like him did.

  But… why? Revenge, Darcy answered her own question. One of the oldest and simplest motives.

  Wilson was still talking. “See, I found it interesting that you said you didn’t try to kill Grace or the Chief.”

  “And why should that be interesting?” Adolphos arched that dark eyebrow again.

  “Because I never said which two officers got hurt.”

  Darcy smiled. There it was. The arrogant man had made his mistake. They had him. They had him—!

  Adolphos laughed.

  It was not a good sound.

  “Of course I know which of your two friends got themselves crashed,” he said. “News like that travels fast.”

  Shane and Kara shuffled their feet, and Darcy felt a little of her certainty slide away. Bad news did travel fast. That was one of the unchanging laws of the universe.

  “That may be true.” Wilson pursed his lips with a shake of his head. “Except, you see, we didn’t release those details. The State Police haven’t released anything to the news outlets on Jon’s accident, either. So I’m right back where I started from with my questions, Mister Carino. How, exactly, did you know who was in those car wrecks?”

  Darcy’s hope lifted.

  Adolphos rolled his hand in the air again. “You think I don’t have contacts in the State Police? Of course I do. I make sure to keep close tabs on my old friends from Misty Hollow. Any way I can.”

  And her hope fell away again.

  They didn’t have any direct proof that Adolphos was involved. It was too much of a coincidence that he was here, in the Brick Road Casino where Ferguson Gorsky’s fraud investigation had led them, and only a few miles from where Jon’s car had been found wrecked. Too much coincidence, as well, that he had such a history with Misty Hollow and now Jon and Grace had both been targeted and sent to the hospital. Nearly to their graves.

  Too bad coincidence wasn’t enough to prove someone’s guilt. Darcy had learned the hard way over the years that coincidences did happen.

  She had been hoping for a confession from Adolphos. They had been so sure that he would say something to incriminate himself if they just asked the right questions.

  When the man stood up from behind his desk and motioned toward his office door, Darcy realized that any hope of that happening was gone.

  “I’d show you out,” he said to them, “but I’m very busy. You know where the exit is, I trust.”

  Wilson folded his notebook and put it away again. “We know the way out.”

  “Then make sure you find it.”

  Darcy hesitated, wanting there to be more to say. More to do. She was here to help Jon. What good had they done? It was looking more and more like Adolphos wasn’t even involved.

  She was already in the hallway, just ahead of Wilson, when she heard Adolphos call out to her.

  “Oh, Darcy? Better luck next time.”

  ***

  “I can’t believe that… that… slime!”

  “Darcy, please,” Ellen said with a wry smile. “Language.”

  Darcy glared at her, knowing there was a lot worse language that she could be using right now. She’d be willing to bet that she even knew a few words Ellen had never heard of. Then again maybe not.

  They were walking down the yellow bricks outside the casino, toward the parking lot. Around them the neon signs flashed and people came and went through the main doors. Cars moved slowly through the parking lot, trying to find the closest spaces that weren’t reserved for the handicapped or for certain casino employees.

  Spinning her aunt’s ring around her finger, Darcy tried to get a handle on her emotions. She was more disappointed than she was angry. It burned her to her core that Adolphos was out of jail already. That man should have a prison cell reserved somewhere with his name on it. But, that wasn’t what was really bothering her. What bothered her most was that apparently, Adolphos was innocent.

  Or at least, a very good liar.

  “He might not be our guy,” Wilson said, scratching at the back of his neck. “We might have to look at other suspects. I’m sorry, Darcy. There were no traffic cameras or stores with video monitoring anywhere near either accident scene. Grace didn’t see the car that rammed her. Jon can’t remember what happened. We’re kind of nowhere with both cases. I can’t even really ask the State Police to interview Adolphos for an alibi because I don’t have any probable cause. I don’t know. Maybe if Jon was here he could see something I’m missing.”

  He stopped for a moment and turned back to the casino. Darcy stopped with him, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back. The investigation had come to an abrupt halt and she wasn’t sure what to do next. She was failing Jon.

  “We’ll keep looking,” Wilson promised her. “Meantime, me and Shane and Kara are going over to see Jon. Do you want to come with us? Still room in the car.”

  “Ellen can give me a ride,” she told him. “We’ll meet you guys there. Oh. I mean, unless you have somewhere you need to be, Ellen?”

  “Nope. I’m all yours today, Darcy.” She flashed a smile at Wilson. “Tell Mister Police Man we’ll be right there.”

  Wilson studied Ellen like he was trying to solve a puzzle. “You know, Jon thinks a lot of you. As a police chief and as a friend too, I suppose.”

  “Yeah?” Darcy noticed how Ellen had to wait a beat before she could say more than that, even though her friend tried to hide it. “What makes you say that?”

  “Jon’s pretty straightforward. He says what he means.”

  “I think he’s okay, too,” Ellen said. “For a cop.”

  Wilson shrugged off the sideways compliment. “Most of us are. I just wish I could have done more here. I know it’s not our jurisdiction but this one is personal. More so for you Darcy, I know that, but the whole department is throwing everything they have into this one. I’ll get the answers somehow. Adolphos was in such a rush to get us out of there I didn’t even get to ask him what kind of car he drives.”

  “Maybe you won’t have to,” Kara said. She had moved off a little distance from everyone else, while they stood near the end of the yellow brick road talking about Jon, and suspects, and what they were going to do next. Now she pointed up at a sign in front of a parking space in the very first row. “Look.”

  Darcy read the blocky red letters stenciled on the white, rectangular sign.

  Reserved for Adolphos Carino, Manager. Brick Road Casino.

  There was a car in the spot, sure enough, and Darcy knew it was more than just luck that they had been walking this way, down the yellow paving bricks, to find Adolphos’ car.

  His red car.

  Darcy thought back to the crash scene. There was that one tiny smear of red where Jon’s car had hit something. Possibly, something that had forced him off the road and down
a ditch, and nearly killed him.

  But looking at the car in Adolphos’ designated parking spot, Darcy couldn’t see any damage anywhere on it. Nothing about the car in Adolphos’ spot indicated it had been in an accident just a little over a day ago. It was a luxury sports car of some kind. A two door model with a sloping roof and tail lights that wrapped around the curves of the back end. She read the brand name across the trunk. Jaguar,

  “Fancy car,” Ellen said with a whistle. “Wouldn’t mind having one of these myself. Of course, I’d have to give up my Fiero. Don’t think I could do that.”

  “Maybe when Connor’s old enough you can buy him one,” Darcy suggested, her mood still sour.

  Ellen breathed out a soft laugh. “That’s going to be real soon, too. Thing is, Connor’s a bit more level headed than his mom. He’ll probably get himself something safe and sensible. Like a Prius. Or a Yugo.”

  Darcy knew better. Connor wasn’t as ready to take risks as his mother was, sure, but he was more like Ellen than she cared to admit. “I doubt you’d let Connor drive a Prius.”

  A mischievous grin turned up the one corner of Ellen’s mouth. “I’m thinking… motorcycle.”

  “Wilson,” they heard Kara say, “come take a look at this.”

  She was kneeling down on the other side of the Jaguar, by the front wheel. The rest of them came around to see what she meant and found her crouched down, feeling her hands over the fender.

  Darcy was disappointed. Again. She was still looking for damage, or blue paint transferred over from Jon’s car in the accident. The car looked fine, from bumper to bumper.

  “What is it?” Shane asked, kneeling down beside her. “What do you see, partner?”

  Wilson joined them. “I don’t see anything.”

  “You have to know what to look for,” Kara said, patiently pointing to several spots on the fender. “My dad was a mechanic. I’m kind of a car girl, myself.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Shane teased.

  Kara shot him a glance but chose to ignore his little quip. “Look here, and here. This metal’s been beaten back into shape. It’s a quality job, but they obviously didn’t have much time to do the work. The paint job’s been redone, too. See?”