Gino stood straight, planting his feet firmly. “I don’t have it.”
Griselli turned to me, but I could only shrug as if I had no clue what Gino had done with the money. Much as I wanted to yell at Gino for being an idiot, it was my duty to protect him. I could only hope Betty and her diamond wouldn’t return until Griselli left.
Then it happened. Betty re-entered the office. No doubt wrapped in her own excitement, she was oblivious to any tension in the air. “Oops, guess I’m interrupting again.” Giggling like a teenager, she gave Gino a peck. “I better be on my way anyway. There’s a lot of planning to do. Now that Gino and me are engaged.” She held her left hand in front of her face and wiggled her ring finger. “Gorgeous, ain’t it?” Then, without waiting for an answer, she said goodbye.
I held my breath, hoping Griselli wouldn’t figure out where his money had gone. But he wasn’t an idiot. From the look on his face, I was afraid he would grab Betty and slice off her finger. But no, he allowed her to leave, fingers intact. Once she was gone, fists clenched, teeth bared, Grisselli asked, “That rock how you spent my dough?”
To my surprise, Gino stood his ground, wobbly though it was. “I’d already bought the ring before you asked for your money back. Don’t worry, though. You’ll get it. Tuesday, next week.”
“You blew my money on a ring? If I was a younger man…” Griselli punched his fist into his other hand, no doubt wishing it’d been Gino’s jaw. “Not only did you use my money dishonestly, but you’re too ignorant to know you’re playing a sucker’s game, getting married. Sure, they’re sweet in the beginning. Until the ring’s on their finger. Then they figure it’s as good as through your nose.”
Gino shook his head, “Betty’s not like that.”
“No?” Despite his skeptic question, Griselli’s face softened. “Maybe not. Eileen wasn’t like that either.” His eyes misted over. “She was real special.”
Timothy spoke softly, “Yeah, my sister sure was. But somebody still killed her.”
Griselli spun around as if he’d forgotten Eileen’s brother was still there. “Tell me about her. What was she like before…”
Timothy’s eyes matched Griselli’s for moistness. “She was funny, generous, and real smart. Wish I’d spent more time with her.” One eyebrow rose as he stared at Griselli. “How’d you know her?”
Griselli repeated what he’d told Gino and me earlier, about his relationship with Eileen.
Timothy’s mouth dropped open. Then, “You’re Joey G?”
“She told you about me?” Griselli’s face lit up.
“In her letters. She thought the world of you.” Timothy’s eyebrows lowered. “You came to the wake, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. Couldn’t stay away.”
The two men shook and then broke into a manly hug.
While I was relieved to see the lovefest, I was anxious to return to the notebook and Eileen’s Pittsburgh activities. I asked Griselli if he could shed light on the subject.
“I can sure as hell try.”
“Timothy?” If looks could persuade, I hoped mine would convince Timothy it was all right to share.
For a tense moment I thought he wouldn’t agree to show his information. With a sigh, he slowly withdrew the notebook and turned to the entries we’d discussed earlier. He didn’t mention the ribbon he’d dropped into his pocket.
Griselli squinted and his mouth twisted from side to side as he studied each line.
I held my breath, hoping he’d be able to lead us past the dead ends we kept running into.
Still peering at the entries, Griselli pointed to what appeared to me like a squiggly ink leak. “Look at this. There’s two m’s there. My guess is it stands for Music Man.”
Timothy rubbed the knuckles of his one hand with the other. “You think she took money from a guy she never even mentioned to me? Why the hell would she do that?”
Gino patted Timothy’s shoulder. “Take it easy, buddy. We’ll get some answers.”
Not wanting to guess at those answers, I lowered my face into the notebook. Sure enough, although sometimes it was faded beyond casual notice, that same squiggle showed up after each dollar amount. “Timothy, did Eileen have a date book or calendar for that time?”
“I don’t think so.” Timothy’s voice oozed disappointment.
“What about the ribbon?” I couldn’t leave that out.
“What ribbon?” Gino looked squarely at his friend, who reluctantly removed it from his pocket. Gino stepped back as if confronted by a rattlesnake. “That what I think it is?”
Waving Gino’s question aside, I asked, “We don’t know. Mr. Griselli, any ideas?”
He shrugged. “Could be from anything…”
I returned to the notebook, wondering aloud, “Was each notation made the same day of the week? Like on a Friday?”
Using my computer, I pulled up each date noted and ascertained all were Mondays.
I asked Griselli, “Any ideas as to what days she saw Music Man?”
“Weekends the guy had a regular gig at the Sunset Club. She told me that Sunday nights, they’d go out until all hours. At least what passed for all night on Sunday in Pittsburgh.” His eyes got a far-away look to them. “Until one day she just disappeared. I got a quick phone message from her saying goodbye.” He snapped back to the here-and-now. “That was it.”
His phone buzzed and he pulled it out. Scowling, he said, “Gotta go. If anybody asks, you never saw me.” He took a menacing step toward Gino. “I’ll be here Tuesday morning at nine to pick up my money. If you don’t have it, I’ll find your girlfriend and rip that ring right off her finger. Cabishe?”
Gino gave him a curt nod.
Griselli, with one more evil-eye glance toward Gino, departed.
Silent, I sank deeper into my chair. Timothy looked as if he’d just learned the Tooth Fairy stole money instead of leaving it.
Gino, whose mouth never met a question too delicate to voice, asked, “So, do you both think Eileen was involved with the murders of all those women?”
I could almost hear Timothy’s teeth grinding. Before he could say anything, I jumped in. “That ribbon could be from anything and the entries—”
Timothy’s hand went up. “Save it, Claire. I appreciate you trying to spare my feelings, but…”
Gino, at last grasping at diplomacy, interrupted. “Dumb, my even asking. Of course, she wasn’t. We’ll get to the bottom of this. Hey Timothy, why don’t you and me get some coffee? We can figure out what to do next.”
“Only if you and Claire promise not to take Eileen’s stuff to the cops.”
“We swear it. Right, Claire?”
I bit my lower lip and nodded, mentally crossing my fingers behind my back. “Before you go, Timothy, do you have access to Eileen’s most current bank statement?”
“I already checked it. My name was on it too. It only had $1,000.”
“If that’s all settled, Timothy, go on ahead and I’ll meet you at Blackbirds.” Gino turned to me and whispered, “See if we have any invoices due.”
Once both men were gone I sat at my computer, shaking my head. Gino needed money or Griselli would likely take it from his hide. Timothy had evidence linked to the Red Bow Killer. I had to decide which I’d work on. Rationalization came to my rescue. Gino got himself into the tar pit. The women who’d been killed hadn’t done anything wrong except for maybe playing bingo. I blew out a breath, hoping to release some residual guilt for not helping Gino right away.
First thing to do was to see if I could find out Music Man’s real name. I looked up the Sunset Club for a phone number. It was a long shot, but a girl had to start somewhere.
Somewhere turned out to be nowhere. The club was still in existence, but the new owners couldn’t provide me with any information. I rested my chin in my hands, thinking about my next move. Inspiration came in the form of a notation in the back of Eileen’s notebook. It read, “Lori,” with a phone number next to it.
No telling who Lori was or what she knew, but those answers could be just a phone call away.
The phone rang several times. Either Lori no longer was at this number or, just as likely, wasn’t about to answer a call from an unfamiliar number. But then I heard a click and, “Thanks for calling Hairtastic. This is Lori.”
I talked fast, afraid she’d hang up on me. “Lori, my name is Claire DeNardo. I’m a private investigator working for the brother of Eileen O’Donnell.”
Her response was a cautious, “Oka-a-y.”
“We found your name and number in Eileen’s notebook. I was wondering if you could answer a couple questions.”
“Are you working with the cops? Is she in trouble?”
While being murdered was awful, I could truthfully say Eileen wasn’t in trouble. Since Lori seemed unaware of Eileen’s death, I answered with a brief, “No, she isn’t. And no, I’m not working with the cops. As I said, I’m working on behalf of her brother, Timothy. Sounds like you remember her.”
Lori’s voice remained guarded. “Yeah, I did her hair and we got to be good friends.”
“Did you know the guy she was dating? A musician?”
“Never met him, but Eileen talked about him. Music Man.”
Hopes up, I asked, “Did she ever tell you his real name?”
After a moment that seemed to last forever, she asked, “What’s this about?”
“I’m sorry, but Eileen has passed away and we’re trying to contact him.”
“No! Oh! Poor Eileen. I really liked her. She was great.” Her voice choked and I waited a moment for her to recover.
Then I coaxed, “Her boyfriend’s name?”
She sniffled, “Oh, yeah. I thought she dumped him before she left town. Anyway, I’m not sure what his last name was, but his first was the name of a tree.”
“Maple? Palm?” When she didn’t respond, “Elm?”
“No. None of those.” She released a breath into the phone. “Now I remember. It was Birch.”
“Are you sure that wasn’t his last name?”
“Nope.” She sounded surer now. “It was Birch. I remember because it was so weird I thought he made it up.”
“Is there anything else you remember?”
“Sorry. It was a long time ago. Never met Eileen’s brother, but would you give him my condolences? Tell him she was a good person.”
A soft whoop slipped from my lips the minute I hung up with Lori. This was the first clue and it was a good one. After all, how many men who lived in Pittsburgh ten years ago could be named Birch?
It turned out he was more elusive than I thought. It was quitting time and I was no further in the investigation. On top of that, I hadn’t done any reconnaissance to find unpaid invoices as Gino had asked.
I needed to leave for my second job at Cannoli’s, but I had begun to worry. Gino hadn’t returned to the office and wasn’t answering my texts. All I could do at that point was hope Griselli hadn’t changed his mind about waiting until Tuesday. I said a quick prayer Gino was all right and promised myself I’d carefully pick through all the invoices first thing in the morning.
Just as I was locking up the office, Gino appeared. He looked even more disheveled than usual, with his shirt halfway in and halfway out of his trousers. He had a stain on his collar and his tie was askew.
“Are you okay, Gino?”
“Sure. I’m okay. As okay as a guy with a new fiancé and a price on his head can be.” He slumped against the wall, his usually coiffed dark brown hair, probably dyed, flopping onto his forehead. “Gotta get that money somehow.” The slurring of his words told me he’d been imbibing, no doubt hoping to find the solution in alcohol. A fool’s game at best.
I told myself not to feel sorry for him. You reap what you sow. He brought it on himself, etc. But my Catholic upbringing also told me to be kind toward another, even if the other is sometimes a jerk. Besides, I cared about the guy and it scratched at my heart to see him like this.
I patted his shoulder, “We’ll find a way. I know it.”
He placed his hand over mine. “You’re a great kid, Claire. Yeah, we will.” He gave me a brave smile. “Now, you better go or you’ll be late to Lena’s.”
By the time I reached the staircase, Gino had disappeared into his office.
***
Cannoli’s was busy, so my aunt barely had time to greet me. I slipped an apron on and went behind the counter. Business didn’t slow until close to closing time. That’s when Ed sauntered in, still wearing his security guard duds.
Aunt Lena’s face lit up when she saw him, and she cooed, “I’m a sucker for a man in a uniform.”
Ed grinned like a teenage boy with a gift card to a gaming store. “She’s beautiful. And she can bake.” He made his way to her and they kissed briefly. He then greeted me with, “What’s up, kiddo?”
“As a matter of fact, quite a bit. Aunt Lena, mind if I take a break to fill Ed in on an assignment. That’s if he wants it.”
My aunt pursed her lips. “Okay, but not too long. We’ve got a lot to do if we want to get out of here at a decent hour. And, Claire, it better not be something dangerous. I want him around a long time.”
Ed and I adjourned to the kitchen, where I explained the situation with Eileen’s notebook and Griselli’s information. I left out the bit about Gino owing Griselli. That was Gino’s story to tell, if he so chose.
“Do you think you could do some digging to find this Birch guy?”
Ed rubbed his chin. “Suppose I could ask around. I know some guys from Pittsburgh. One’s a drummer. You can never tell.”
As was always the case, I was grateful to know Ed. We’d gotten off to a bad start when we first met. I almost ran him over. It was while I was investigating a murder at his workplace. But since then, he’d been a godsend to me.
Chapter Twenty Four
Exhausted, I fell asleep right away that night. Not exactly a restful sleep though, since I dreamt that Gino was being pursued by a creature with diamonds for eyes but who otherwise resembled Griselli. Making the dream even more unsettling, I was unable or unwilling to help Gino.
When I awakened, Charlie’s head was resting on my pillow, his doggy breath warm on my face. I’d finally given in to his cries last night and allowed him in bed.
As soon as I sat up, he seemed to come to life. Even though I was still drowsy, I put the leash on him and we stepped outside. He was getting bigger and harder to manage by the day. If I didn’t enroll him in obedience school, he’d soon be out of control.
We’d just returned from our walk-and-tug when my phone rang. It was Corrigan.
His voice was brittle. “Turn on Channel Five.”
My belly tightened. This could not be good.
Indeed, it wasn’t. A reporter was talking into the camera, “…There’s been another murder involving a red ribbon, in Lakewood. The victim’s name has not been released pending family notification.”
I muted the television, my heart heavy enough to sink the Queen Mary. “Brian, I’m so sorry. Do you have any suspects?”
He barked a humorless laugh, “You mean besides Rockwell? Who, incidentally, has made himself scarce? But we’re looking for him. We found the woman about a mile from Corey’s Bingo, behind a Giant Eagle Store. Same M.O. as all the others.”
“Sounds like you’re planning on doing a version of ‘rounding up the usual suspects.’” I immediately wanted to un-say those words. This is no way to support him.
“Unless we get a break in this case, we don’t have any other leads.” He sounded defensive, and I couldn’t blame him. “And the killings didn’t start again until Rockwell was released.”
My focus needed to be on helping him catch this killer. I believed that’s what Corrigan wanted too but was reluctant to admit it. After all, with previous murder cases he’d made it a point to keep me on a need-to-know basis, and to him I had no need to know anything.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out the enormous press
ure he was facing, with the Captain, the public, and his own conscience. I went into ‘fix-it’ gear and weighed my options.
On one hand I’d told Griselli I wouldn’t bring his name into anything. Also on that hand was my promise to Timothy not to reveal his information to the cops. The other hand represented all the women who’d died. If I had a third hand, it’d stand for the fact that the man I loved was sinking. His career and his self-confidence were at stake.
Clearing my throat so the reluctant words would come out, I said, “We need to talk.”
After getting off the phone with Corrigan, I left a quick message on the office phone, telling Gino I’d be late to work. What I didn’t tell him was that I was meeting with Corrigan for a cup of tea and confessions.
When the man in my life showed up at The Coffee Cup, surprise must have been evident on my face. To be blunt, he looked like something the cat had played with, attempted to eat, and then spit out. Dark circles couldn’t hide the deepened lines around his eyes. I wanted to wrap him in a blanket and give him hot cocoa. He needed a haircut and was working on a five o’clock shadow at nine thirty in the morning.
“Yeah, I know. I look like hell. But seeing you is heaven.” His dimples were as irresistible as ever. “You said we needed to talk. This isn’t the talk, is it?”
“What? No. God, no!” Suddenly I was wondering what he’d say if I did ask him where this relationship was heading. With a quick blink of my eyes, I took my brain off that road. At least for now. For now, there were women’s lives to save.
“This is about the Red Bow Killer.” I raised my hand, palm facing him. “Let me get all the way through what I have to say. No interruptions, okay?”
The look of relief on his face when he learned this wasn’t a conversation about our relationship was quickly replaced with knit brows and a frown. With a deep sigh, he said, “Okay. Now what is it?”
The words didn’t exactly spill from my mouth. Dancing around Griselli’s name wasn’t easy. Somehow I managed. Skirting around the notebook was even more of a challenge. I finally settled with telling him about my conversation with Eileen’s hairdresser, Lori, ending with my unsuccessful search for the guy named Birch.
Cupcakes and Corpses Page 17
