Lloyd Corricelli - Ronan Marino 01 - Two Redheads & a Dead Blonde
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It hurt some but in time the pain would subside. At least I was able to take some solace knowing I’d helped Cassie out of her mess and exposed a few dirty cops along the way. I sat on the cold hard ground and looked up in the sky, thinking about where I might be right now if I had never stopped and bought that lucky lottery ticket.
At that moment, like a scene from some overwrought summer romance movie, the clouds parted and the sun streamed through. It was as if God himself was leading me to the answers I had struggled for with a sign. I watched the sunbeams move across the landscape with the clouds when it happened; I had the epiphany on what I should do with my life. Even though I was rich beyond my dreams, it didn’t mean I could sit back and get fat and lazy, I needed to be back in the game I was best at.
Joining a police department wouldn’t work; I’d be handcuffed by politics and hampered by procedures. While there are mavericks out there like Shea, guys like him are few and far between and I’d end up fired in no time at all. Not needing the paycheck to make my bills, my mouth wouldn’t be as restrained as it had been in the past.
As the plights of Karen and Cassie had shown me, the world is full of people in trouble with no real place to turn. There are thousands of generally good people like them who find themselves backed into a corner. Most private investigators only follow adulterous spouses and take pictures of guys claiming workman’s compensation mowing their lawn. They charge ridiculously high rates and some take advantage of the vulnerable in need of real help. I wanted to be different from them and make a difference in people’s lives.
I had no intentions of becoming a vigilante but in Karen’s memory, I could do a lot of good. Spiderman’s Uncle Ben once told him that with great power comes great responsibility. Back here in the real world, as a boy my father taught me to stand up for what was right and for those too weak to stand up for themselves. I’d done that most of my life and after a short break; it was time to start again. It seemed like that was my rightful place in the big scheme of things.
Finding Karen’s killer had almost cost me my own life and a substantial body count accumulated. Future cases should be easier but there were no guarantees. The planet was chock full of assholes and I was heading back into the place where most of them lived. I made a mental note to order some new body armor and prayed I’d never need it again.
So here I was, five months after I’d found a new direction in my life listening to a guy I had no real interest in working for. I’d done a lot of good in the short time I’d been at this gig and was proud of my work.
Unfortunately, there were still unresolved issues from Karen’s death that might never go away. LaValle had easily won the election and headed off to Washington in his quest for family values and Duffy Fitzpatrick had a senator in his back pocket. By now LaValle had most likely found another girlfriend to nail on the side. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of willing young woman looking for a career in politics and bedding a senator was hitting the jackpot.
Tony was dating Cassie on an informal basis since the day she came back from Maine. Hell, who was I kidding? They’d turned into fuck buddies, but at least she’d started school to learn to become a webmaster. Her first project was a porn website featuring all her old pictures and videos. She was still selling her body but at least now it was on the Internet and on her own terms. She’d also started doing some stained glass artwork and had completed a rehab group for her cocaine addiction. Last time we spoke she claimed to be clean and sober and I had no reason to doubt her.
I’d run into Diane once at a Bruins’ game with some older guy I didn’t recognize wearing a thousand-dollar suit. She definitely saw me because I waved and she moved her head quickly away not waiving back. She was no longer working for LaValle and I figured maybe Duffy had something to do with it. I still had the DVD in a safe place ready to hold over her head if need be.
Karen’s younger sister Sara was doing well in school and in spite of her sister’s death made the Dean’s list for the fall semester. I checked in on her from time to time just to make sure she and her mother were doing okay. I even had dinner over at their house one night and I think it gave me some additional measure of closure on Karen.
I’d also kept my promise to Garcia and we spent a lot of time together, mostly just talking about old cases, war stories, discussing the tricks of the trade and drinking beer. More importantly, we became good friends who could always count on each other.
Nothing much had changed for my brother Marc. For all of LaValle’s talk of him going places if he won the senate seat, he was still up there in sleepy-town U.S.A. instructing his guys to write speeding tickets because town revenues were down. The poor guy continued to live his life vicariously through me, so every now and then I’d taken him along on a case when it wouldn’t interfere with looking for a selectman’s lost dog.
The Jefferies Tubes continued to play a few gigs a month with me at the helm. At first it was a little tough to play at Max’s place for me but after the first couple of gigs there, I’d been okay. The band had gotten a bit tighter musically but we were still nothing short of mediocre. I’d accepted the fact you can’t have everything you want in spite of all the money I had coming to me.
John-Bob-Fred finished his story, most of which I’d missed in a daydream, and waited for a response.
“So, Mr. Marino, how much do you charge?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No, you don’t. Unfortunately, we won’t be doing business.”
He looked shocked. I’m sure most people were eager to exchange money with him.
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t do adultery cases, especially for people who can afford to hire some overweight gumshoe that enjoys peeping in on people screwing in a hotel room.”
“But I heard you were the best.”
“I am; the best that money can’t buy. Now run along and check the yellow pages. I’m sure you’ll find someone who can meet your needs elsewhere.”
He shook his head in disbelief and stood.
“You, sir, are an arrogant jerk,” he whined and walked away.
He stopped a short distance down the path and turned to look back. From the expression on his face, I think may have I hurt his feelings. I gave him a little hand motion to shoo and felt like an asshole for about two seconds. It was close to three o’clock and I had a very important person to meet.
Remember the little promise I’d made to myself, the one about not dating strippers, models, etc.; the same one I’d made about one hundred and fifty-seven times before? So far I’d manage to keep it and had been steadily dating a woman who was easily the best thing that had happened to me in a long, long time. Her name was Katrina, Katrina Sadolovaki.
I left the Doubletree and walked down toward the small covered footbridge that crosses the canal. Off to my right, the Concord River made its final run feeding into the Merrimack. Someone once told me that the best white water rafting in the valley can be found right in the middle of downtown Lowell at that very spot.
I spotted Katrina on the other side of the bridge, wearing black jeans and a tight white blouse, her long black hair draped over her shoulders.
“Hi gorgeous,” I said and gave her a quick peck on the lips.
“Beautiful day,” she said. “Feel like going for a walk?”
“With you, I’d walk anywhere.”
“Quoting Jimmy Buffet today?”
“Yup, ‘Come Monday.’”
“That’s a happy song, Ronan. I thought you only listened to funeral dirges.”
“Springsteen doesn’t sing funeral dirges.”
“If you say so,” she said, slapping my shoulder playfully.
We spent the next hour walking hand in hand through downtown then along the river. A college crew team passed by us, gliding upstream through the cool April waters and the river was alive with the signs of spring.
“We had a shooting victim
come into the ER last night,” she said. “The cops said he was one of the guys who torched the Jewish Center.”
“Really? Glad they finally got them.”
“Were you involved?”
“I was.”
“I hate when you have to resort to violence.”
“It’s a violent world, Kat,” I lamented. “At least it wasn’t me visiting you at work.”
She planted a big kiss on my cheek. “Your luck is starting to change.”
She was right. For the first time in my life, I was almost happy without any reservation. I still believed that having my own Bat Cave might make my life a bit fuller and one day I just might get around to looking into it. Right now however, I was simply going to savor my time with the good doctor, try to enjoy my life and continue to help those who really need it.
Oh yeah; she has a toothbrush at my place.
Ronan Marino returns in “Chasing Curves,” the second in the Ronan Marino Mystery Series.
College pitching phenom Ty Wallace is well on his way to being a first round pick in the upcoming major league draft when he uncharacteristically implodes under the pressure, blowing up in front of a stadium full of big league scouts.
Things get far worse for Ty after he is seen arguing with his prospective sports agent’s secretary and she is found dead the next morning; her neck snapped and her body stuffed into a dumpster behind the university baseball stadium.
Ronan Marino is enlisted by the pitcher’s father to clear his son, and he quickly discovers Ty is immersed in a web of blackmail and sex; all seemingly leading back to Ronan’s boyhood idol, a former Red Sox player and his silent partner, a renegade member of his Uncle Sal’s mobster crew who’s aiming to take control of the family.
Meanwhile, he struggles with problems of his own including a teetering relationship with Kat, who is not appreciative of the risks Ronan takes in his chosen profession and his family ties. Complicating matters is his attraction to the new female chief of police at the university, who is not only convinced of Ty’s guilt but works at odds with Ronan to prove it.
With his cousin Tony and detective Eddie Garcia providing backup, Ronan once again finds himself caught between the light and darkness; desperate to solve the murder and figure out why his personal life continues to be such a mess.
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About the Author:
Lloyd L. Corricelli is a native of Tewksbury, MA. He is a graduate of the University of Massachusetts – Lowell with a Bachelor of Science in Criminal Justice and has a Masters of Arts in International Relations from American Military University. He served eight years on active duty in the United States Air Force with the Security Police and as a Special Agent with the Office of Special Investigations. His assignments took him across the world to South Korea, Okinawa and Europe.
After leaving the Air Force, he worked in the film and television industry in Orlando, FL where his acting credits included the sci-fi television series “seaQuest 2032” and the Jodie Foster film “Contact.” It was during this time that Lloyd began to write screenplays. One of his very first, a vampire story called “Dark Millennium” was optioned by the film production company that produced the series “Swamp Thing” and “Superboy.” Though never produced, it provided him a great deal of experience in writing and understanding story structure. He also won the best screenplay award at the 2000 Kissimmee Film Festival for another work.
Switching to novels in 2002, Lloyd’s first book was the Ronan Marino mystery entitled “Two Redheads & A Dead Blonde.” His other books in the Ronan Marino Mystery Series include “Chasing Curves” and “The Vicious Cycle.” He also has an original novel called “Three Chords & The Truth” which he says is about the paths we choose to take and how it affects the lives of those around us. He hopes to release this book sometime in the near future.
He enjoys working out, mountain biking, martial arts, collecting Japanese toys and is a fervent fan of the Boston Bruins, Boston Red Sox and New England Patriots. He currently resides in Southern New Hampshire and is the proud father of son Cameron, who is currently serving in the U.S. Air Force, and daughter Celine.
Also from
SKY COP STUDIOS:
Chasing Curves:
A Ronan Marino Mystery
By Lloyd L. Corricelli
The Vicious Cycle
A Ronan Marino Mystery
By Lloyd L. Corricelli
Psycho Chicken &
Other Foolish Tales
By Mike Girard
Take the Long Way Home
By J. F. Dacey
Heartswood: The Redemption
By Marian Burke
Two Redheads & A Dead Blonde:
The Graphic Novel
By Lloyd L. Corricelli
Coming Soon