She interrupted, “I know, I know.” She lay down her rolling pin. “Well, let’s get busy. Customers are already waiting.”
Time flew as I plated and boxed cupcakes, éclairs, and cake slices for the many people demanding to satisfy their sweet tooth. In fact, I barely noticed the hour until Angie called me at eight.
“Claire, I did what you asked me to do.” She sounded excited, almost breathless. “I got the names of those two men. In fact, I had a conversation with each of them.”
I closed my eyes to calm myself. She’d obviously forgotten she wasn’t supposed to talk to either of the men. The last thing I wanted was for Angie to be on the possible killer’s radar. “You didn’t give either of them any personal information, did you?”
Silence on Angie’s end told me I wasn’t going to like her answer. “Well, the second one asked me out.”
My chest tightened. “You turned him down, didn’t you?”
“Nope. Now don’t worry. We’re meeting tomorrow evening for dinner at Palacio’s.”
Through clenched teeth I said, “He could wrap you up with a ribbon by the time you get from your car to the restaurant. I’m coming with you.”
“That’s not necessary. He seems like a decent guy.”
“I’m sure that’s what they said about Vlad the Impaler. Maybe Brian can come, so it’ll be like a double date.”
“Oka-a-y. I’ll let Norm know.”
“No. We’ll just be there when he shows up. What time are you meeting?”
“At seven.”
“Got it. Now what about that other guy?”
“Nice man. He teaches at St. Mary’s. Fifth grade. Get this. He used to be a friar.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Doesn’t exactly fit my impression of a serial killer. Either of these men play instruments?”
“Friar Tuck doesn’t. Norm plays the accordion in a wedding band.”
“What’s Norm’s last name? I’ll check him out.”
“Norm Rockwell.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No. He even showed me his driver’s license.”
I blew a breath into my bangs. “Okay. Are you home?”
“Yeah. Safe and sound.”
Relief cascaded through me. “Good. Lock your doors and don’t let anyone in. Not even Norm. Also, thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”
She tsk’d, “You’re worse than my mother. Next you’ll be after me about wearing my dresses too short.”
I laughed. “Been meaning to tell you…” My aunt threw me a look as some customers were walking in, so with a quick goodbye, I hung up.
As Aunt Lena rang up an order of six cupcakes, she wanted to know who I was talking to. “It sounded like Angie, but why would she call you?”
“She has a date tomorrow night with this guy she met and thought I might know him.” I cringed inside, afraid she’d call my bluff.
Instead, Aunt Lena’s cherub-round face lit up like a kid getting into the Halloween candy. “What’s he like?”
“Don’t know much about him except his name is Norm and he plays the accordion.”
My aunt’s look of excitement turned into frustration. “Too bad I gotta be here. I’d like to meet this guy. You know, show up at the restaurant and give him the once-over. For Angie’s sake. Last time she had a date, Clinton was president.”
I cut my laugh short when I realized she was serious. “I’ll get you the low down on him.”
Two portly women came up to the counter, interrupting our conversation. “Excuse me, but we’re in a hurry. We need to get home before it’s too late.”
It was past eight thirty and Cannoli’s closed at nine.
The other lady concurred. “As good as the éclairs are here, I’d hate for them to be my last meal.”
Normally I don’t pay a lot of attention to what customers say. Just smile and nod. This conversation had me wondering. I didn’t need to wonder long. Though the four of us were the only ones in Cannoli’s the larger of the two women lowered her voice. “That Red Bow Killer got another one tonight. Somewhere around 117th and Detroit.”
My throat tightened and I felt a bit dizzy. I prayed Angie had been telling the truth about being home. Trying to keep my voice steady, I asked, “Have you heard anything else?”
The other woman’s eyes bulged. “Isn’t that enough? How can any woman feel safe? What are the cops doing? Eating donuts, I bet.”
My temper rose but I clamped it down. “I happen to know the cops are doing all they can to find this monster.”
My aunt was wringing her hands. “That’s it. We’re closing, ladies. Here’re your éclairs.” She slid the box across the counter. “Be careful going home.”
She followed them to the door and locked it. “I’m calling Ed to pick me up. We’ll follow you home. You’re not going to walk into that apartment alone.”
A bit uneasy myself, I agreed to her plan. Then I called Angie, just to double-check she was home and safe.
“Claire, I told you I was home. Why would I lie?”
“There’s been another murder. I just had to make sure it wasn’t you.”
She let out a shaky breath. “It wasn’t.” She paused. “Thanks for being concerned, though.”
Worries over Angie alleviated, my mind jumped to wondering about the victim. Was she a bingo player? Could she have been somebody from St. John’s? The crime scene wasn’t that far from the church. My legs wobbled like bowling pins just before they topple over. Another thought flashed through my head. How was Corrigan dealing with yet one more murder?
While Aunt Lena called Ed and requested his protective presence, I cleaned up. Once she was off the phone she joined me, but neither of us talked. That was just as well since undoubtedly our conversation would have returned to the Red Bow Killer’s latest victim.
Once Ed arrived, he and my aunt walked me to my car and followed me home. Ed even escorted me to my door. “Lock up, kiddo. Your aunt’s paranoid about this killer getting someone she loves. Don’t make her right to have worried.”
Obediently, I dead-bolted my door behind him and opened the cage for Charlie. Poor guy had been confined all day, except for the quick pit stop I’d made before going to Cannoli’s.
After he covered me with puppy licks, he stood by the door. I sighed and picked up his leash. Pulling my gun from my purse, I told myself the killer already did his deed for tonight. Still, I hoped Charlie would do his stuff in record time.
The dog must have had momentary mind-reading capabilities because he got right down to business. Then he looked at me like he wanted nothing more than to be back inside. Maybe he sensed my unease. No matter the cause, as soon as I closed the door behind us, we both seemed to relax.
Grabbing a cup of tea and some treats for Charlie, we reclined on the sofa and turned the television on. I should have just gone to bed.
A freshly-shaven news reporter was at the scene of the latest murder, talking with a woman who was wearing something that looked like pajamas. He asked her to describe what happened that evening.
“Well, my husband, Fred, and me was sitting on the porch, smoking. Meanwhile that poor lady musta come upon the corpse and let out a scream. Blood curdling, it was. We rushed toward the sound. First, we seen the woman who found the body and then the actual body with a ribbon tied around the neck. It was horrible. Fred called 911 and I comforted the woman who happened on it.”
The reporter nodded, hanging on every word the interviewee said. He thanked her and was ready to return the broadcast to the station when that same witness grabbed the microphone. “Where was the cops? They’re supposed to protect us. None of us women is safe ‘til this maniac gets caught or killed.”
The reporter wrestled the microphone away from the woman. Then, “Back to you, Melissa.”
The anchor, Melissa Perfect-Hair-And-Makeup, sitting behind a desk on the studio set, shook her head. “Thank you, Brad.” She paused and put on her serious face. “Cleveland women ar
e becoming more frightened, while the police seem to have no suspects in this string of killings. This is the sixth victim of the Red Bow Killer. Her name has been withheld pending family notification.”
My heart beat in sympathy and sorrow for the victim and her family. Nobody deserved that ending. My sympathy extended to Corrigan as well. Recalling my less-than-supportive last comment to him, my face burned hot enough to cook pasta. Now, with this latest murder, he’d be so busy there’d be no way of knowing when I’d be able apologize. I moaned and Charlie, taking it as a signal, began to lick my face and for an instant made me forget my guilt.
When it was finally time for bed, Charlie refused to go back into his cage. Not that I blamed him. Poor thing spent so much time in there. Plus, I could use a living creature next to me, even if it was covered in fur and had Kibbles breath.
Charlie slept soundly, which is more than I could say for myself. Frustrated with doing nothing but tossing back and forth, I finally arose at four and shuffled off to the living room to do some work.
Wiping any remnants of sleep from my eyes, I flicked on my computer and flipped through the latest news to see if there was anything else on the most recent victim. While I was wading through all the online gossip, Charlie trotted over, pawed me, and went to the door. It was a good time for a break. Between all the wild speculations and the complaints about the cops, my patience was wearing as thin as a Supermodel’s arms. I grabbed the leash and we headed outside.
My phone rang just as Charlie decided he needed a sprint. Off we went after something only he saw. I finally got him to stop and answered my phone. It was Corrigan.
“You’re up?” As so often lately, he sounded exhausted.
“Yes. Charlie had to answer nature’s call.” I pulled on the leash and we turned toward home. “What’s up?” I winced over my inane question. What did I think was up?
“You no doubt heard. Another victim. Do you have some time to spare?”
Now that Charlie figured out what we were doing, he didn’t want to wait and so began dragging me to the apartment. My voice bounced as we ran. “Sure. Is this about the latest victim?”
“I’ll explain when I see you. Be there in about twenty minutes.”
Twenty minutes? It’d take me that long to rub the sleep creases from my face. “Yeah, that’s good.”
We hung up and Charlie and I raced to the apartment. He was probably hungry but my desire to look presentable pushed me. Still, he was happily chomping down on his puppy food when Corrigan knocked.
I opened the door and tried to hide my surprise. He looked like he’d been living in the trunk of his car. His suit hung limply, as if it was as tired as its wearer. Usually clean-shaven, his blond whiskers made his face look fuzzy, blurring the lines of his chin and cheeks. The dullness in his eyes was what tore at my heart the most. The poor guy needed a break in the case and more time after that to recuperate.
“Come in, Brian.” I led him in by the arm and he offered no resistance. I’d never seen him so cowed and it almost frightened me. Then, shame and regret over my last insult to him overcame me and I blurted out, “What I said to you about the job you’re doing. I didn’t mean it, really.”
He dismissed my apology with a weak wave of his hand. “Forget it. It’s nowhere near the worst I’ve heard lately.”
“Okay.” Shifting from one leg to the other, “Let’s sit down. Want some tea or something to eat?”
“Thanks, no.” At least he took up my offer to sit. He pulled out his notepad. “I need you to tell me about the bingo game at St. John’s yesterday evening. I assume you were there.”
I squinted, my mind spinning like the cage holding the bingo tiles. “You think the latest victim was playing bingo there last night?”
He sank back into the sofa. “She played bingo somewhere and St. John’s is a good place to start. It’s close to where her body was found. Plus, she had some daubers in her purse. They’re like markers—”
“I know what they are. So you think she was at St. John’s.”
“You tell me.” He pulled out a picture of the victim. Like the others, she had a ribbon tied into a bow around her neck.
Biting down on my lower lip, I recalled the slender woman who sat across from me at bingo. She had won the last game before I left. Tightly intertwining my fingers, I nodded.
He placed one of his hands over mine. “Did you notice anybody who looked or acted strange in any way? Did someone act aggressively toward the victim, or show a lot of interest in her?”
“Not that I noticed. There were only two men in the place that looked even capable of strangling someone. Just a minute.” My legs felt as if they’d give out when I stood, but not wanting Corrigan to see my faintheartedness, I continued toward my phone.
Once it was in my hands, I plopped back down on the sofa, took a breath, and showed him the first of the two photos I’d taken last evening.
“This first guy was a friar.” I repeated the rest of what Angie had told me about him and then switched photos to Norm’s. “Besides bingo, this one also plays an instrument. Accordion. His name is Norm Rockwell.”
Corrigan’s upper lip went into an Elvis curl. “Gotta be an alias.”
“It matches his driver’s license. Furthermore, he has a date with Angie Frankowsky, Aunt Lena’s friend. She was at bingo last night with me. In fact, she stayed until the end, so she might have even seen if the victim left with anyone.”
His face revealed nothing. He merely asked, in a level professional tone, “Do you have Angie’s address? I’ll need to question her too.”
“Sure. Anyway, Angie and this Norm are meeting at Palacio’s on Center Ridge at 7:00 tonight.” At the last minute I decided not to ask him to come along. Maybe it was because he looked so tired and worn. He didn’t need a working dinner. “She’ll have company. Me.” That had sounded a lot cleverer in my head.
The vein in his temple boogied, and I doubted he’d give up any information about the latest victim. “You’ve got to be kidding! You and Angie can’t be thinking of meeting up with this guy.” He must have decided I wasn’t kidding because he paused and smoothed down his hair. “Hey, changed my mind. Can I have some tea?”
“Of course.” Sensing an advantage, I wasn’t about to pour him anything without first driving home my point. “We’ll be fine. It’s a public place and I’ll have my gun.” He didn’t argue so I grew bolder. “Okay, what else do you know about last night’s victim?”
“Tea first.”
He followed me into the kitchen. While I was boiling the water, he began to heat up my hormones by wrapping his arms around me and nuzzling my neck. From the feel of things, he’d found a way to rejuvenate himself, or he was stalling. Although the first option was more flattering to me, the real reason didn’t matter. I wanted some answers. “This is nice, but you haven’t told me anything.”
He just murmured into my neck.
My voice firm, “Brian.”
He backed off. “Victim’s name was Shirley Dolecek, sixty years old, widowed. Only child killed in Afghanistan. The deceased’s sister lives in Chicago, but she’ll be in town later today. We’re still in the process of piecing the events together.”
Keeping my hands steady enough to pour the tea was impossible. Six women killed in such a short time and this last one had been at the same bingo hall, even the same table as Angie and me. I hadn’t known the woman, but her being so near to me shortly before her death made it feel almost personal, as if I were being attacked.
Corrigan poured the tea. He blew on his cup and as soon as it cooled he took a sip. Putting it down, he sighed, “Better get going. My partner and I are both meeting with the Captain later this morning. No doubt he’s planning on motivating us by screaming at the top of his lungs.”
He kissed me hard and asked, “Would you love me if I was back in uniform?” His joke was tinged with worry.
My heart crumbled like a too-crisp chocolate chip cookie. Throwing my arms arou
nd his neck, “I’d love you if you wore a janitor’s uniform.”
He nodded and walked out. Closing the door behind him, I slid to the floor. Charlie, no doubt spotting a play opportunity, pushed open the unlocked door of his cage and, trotted over, licking and nipping at me. I grabbed him and chuckled in spite of myself. “Come on, Charlie. I’m already late for work. Let’s have breakfast. Chocolate for me and puppy food for you.”
My phone rang, spoiling my meal plan. It was Angie. I barely had time to say hello before she began.
“Did you see that latest victim? She sat at the same bingo table as us.” Her voice shook, but she continued with a bravado I admired, “That means we’re close to finding the creep.”
“Yes, but we still don’t know who the killer is. By the way, this last victim’s name was Shirley Dolecek. Did you see her leave? Was she alone?”
“To tell you the truth, she left without me noticing. I keep thinking, I could’ve walked with her to her car or something. I’m kicking myself for that.” Her voice grew solemn. “She’d still be living if I had paid more attention to her.”
I couldn’t let Angie beat herself up. “Don’t think like that. If you had gotten in the middle of it, you could have ended up as victim number seven.”
Still, I understood how she felt. There have been times that same regret stuck in my head and nobody could talk me out of it. No sense in belaboring it, though. “One more thing. Corrigan was just here. Expect a visit. Please don’t tell him you’re working with me, though. He’s already worried about my involvement. He doesn’t need to worry about yours, too.”
“Mum’s the word. Anyway, I don’t want it getting back to Lena.” She paused and her voice took on her familiar stubborn quality. “I’m still going out with Norm.”
“Okay, but don’t forget I’m going too.”
She groaned, “He’s not the killer. I don’t get that kind of vibe from him.”
“I’m picking you up at six thirty. I bet the victims didn’t get a vibe about the killer either. Something you learn in this business; suspect everyone.”
She snorted, “Yeah, okay. I can see how that way of thinking comes in handy. Well, time to go to work. If you told Lena about Norm she’ll have a million questions.”
Cupcakes and Corpses Page 11
