“But he didn’t have her, so it’s moot. And now we have Mazzaro.”
Tearing Corrigan’s eyeballs out was too good for him. Now I wanted to rip out his lower orbs. “You had someone follow me to make an arrest, not to find Aunt Lena. You couldn’t have followed me.”
“It was Officer Peterson.” He waved the subject away. “And yes, I wanted to make an arrest so we can find your aunt and put away anyone guilty of her kidnapping.”
I made fists and squeezed so tight my knuckles went white. “But you shouldn’t have endangered my aunt.”
“Look, Claire, I did what had to be done.”
“And damn the consequences? Suppose he had an accomplice and the plan had been for that guy to take my aunt to the stables.”
“Stables? What are you talking about?”
“After I turned over the flash drive, that guy, Mazzaro, told me Aunt Lena would be at the stables. She wasn’t. But you made sure that couldn’t happen. What you did was reckless.”
His eyes shot open. “Reckless? I’ll tell you what was reckless. Giving the kidnapper a blank flash drive. He would’ve killed your aunt for sure and maybe come back for you.” The vein in his temple throbbed to a salsa beat. “It’s a good thing we were the ones who checked it out instead of the perps.”
Speechless, I looked away and hoped my face wasn’t as flushed as it felt.
To any onlooker Corrigan seemed Gandhi-like in his calmness. But his exterior barely contained the storm of his anger. Unable to hold it back, he bellowed, “For God’s sake, Claire, you’re not dealing with a cheating husband.”
I lowered my shoulders. “What other choice did I have?” I’d have even more explaining to do if I’d given the kidnapper Joey’s flash drive. Corrigan would try to work a deal whereby I’d serve time in Siberia.
“You could have worked with me. That’s the choice you never take, including after finding that damned flash drive of Joey’s.”
His eyes burned into me and if I wasn’t pink as a flamingo before, I was now. This wasn’t getting us anywhere. “Can we call a truce?”
He shifted his weight. “Okay. So you know, I don’t think our prisoner, Mazzaro, is the brains behind this. He’s more of a follower. An ex-con with possible connections to Valcone, and we know Valcone worked for New Jersey’s Kingpin, Bucanetti. I’m betting Bucanetti’s behind not only the kidnapping, but Joey’s murder. Mazzaro’s lawyer is telling him not to talk so we don’t have anything yet.”
I rubbed my face. They’d at least caught the guy and that was more than I’d managed. “I understand but why am I here?” Part of it, no doubt, was to keep an eye on me.
Corrigan cleared his throat to say something, but I pointed over his shoulder to a man in handcuffs walking our way. Greasy, long hair, hollow cheeks, wearing a bolero tie. “He was at Cicarelli’s.”
Corrigan head turned while the man accompanied by a cop headed to the restroom. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. He left before you showed up.”
Corrigan looked triumphant. “That was Phil Mazzaro.”
The cast of characters in this horror show fell into place. I’d seen Mazzaro, the guy at the drop off, with Valcone and Santore at Cicarelli’s Pizza. Valcone was killed so that left Santore, who had been interested enough in the flash drive to have hunted down Joey’s locker for it. The more I bounced the facts around in my brain, the more convinced I became Santore was my man. He probably even had his goons, Freddie or Marco, spying on me.
Corrigan touched my shoulder and brought my thoughts back. “Okay. Wait here.” He left me at his desk to confer with another detective, who nodded and glanced over at me. After a couple minutes of discussion, Corrigan returned, checking his gun. The other cop came with him.
My ‘oh-crap’ alarm went off. “What are you doing?”
“Going to Cicarelli’s. If Phil Mazzaro was with Valcone and Santore, we may have enough to bring Santore in. Not that he’ll come in without a fight, especially if he and his goons are holding your aunt at the pizza place. Those old buildings have basements with all kinds of secret rooms.”
His partner checked the clip in his own gun and added, “We’ll get the warrant and then we’re set. Probably have to shoot our way in, though.” He must have realized his error. “Sorry, Miss. Your aunt, Mrs. Antonucci, won’t be harmed.”
Sure, and the stork brings babies. I knew what could happen if the cops went in to save my aunt. I saw the results often enough on the news. The kidnapper uses the victim as a body shield. She could get killed being saved. My mind spun as did my stomach. I had to get to Cicarelli’s before the police did. Shaking off Corrigan and anyone he had watching me was my only hope.
Corrigan said, “You stay here, Claire. Out of danger.”
You mean out of the way. My first impulse was to argue, but I remembered Gino’s rule: ‘You can get away with anything if you pour enough honey on it.’
I’ll be so sweet Corrigan will get cavities from sitting near me. Somehow I’d also get him to believe I didn’t need babysitting. “It sounds like you’ve got it under control, Brian, and it’s just a matter of time before my aunt’s back.” I could pour honey like Mrs. Butterworth poured syrup.
Corrigan’s eyebrow rose. “What are you trying to pull? You’ve never been this cooperative.”
“Nothing.” Time to put my getaway operation, Rip van Winkle, in place. I yawned and stretched my arms out like I was readying for a nap.
Corrigan noticed and asked, “Want some coffee or tea? It’s going to be a long night.”
“No thanks. I’d really like to lie down in my own bed. Take a nap. I can’t do anything here and you said it yourself, it’s going to be a long night.”
He looked at me like I was trying to sell him Lake Erie. “What’s spinning around in that devious mind of yours? Whatever it is, I don’t like it.”
I yawned again, this time wide enough so my eyes watered. “Nothing, honest.” I could feel my soul shriveling and turning black from lying. “Just some sleep before I fall down.”
Corrigan didn’t look convinced. “There’s a cot in the break room. You can use that.” He smirked. “Or you can go home and I’ll have you followed to make sure you stay there.”
He obviously hadn’t bought my story. “Never mind. How about some coffee?”
We sipped the mucky stuff that was coffee in name only, while he waited for a judge to issue a warrant for Santore. Meanwhile, I tried in vain to conjure a believable reason for me to leave. Without Officer Peterson.
Corrigan leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “The kidnapper’s calls to you were from disposable phones. The majority were in the vicinity of Cicarelli’s Pizza.” He glanced at the clock. “What’s taking so long?”
Someone shouting almost drowned him out. I didn’t think anything of it. It was a police station, after all. But then I spied the source: my father. He was followed by a cop who said, “This guy wouldn’t listen when I told him you were busy.”
My father stood there, his breathing somewhat labored. His five o’clock shadow had its own shadow and his shirt was buttoned up wrong.
“Dad, what are you doing here?”
He took a deep breath. “I didn’t hear from anybody so I came down here to find out what’s going on. That cop said you were busy, Detective, and wasn’t going to let me see you.” He pounded his fist to make a point. “I’ll tell you, it’s killing me not knowing anything.”
“It’s okay, Sergeant.” Corrigan grabbed a chair. “Mr. DeNardo, please have a seat.”
My face tingled with shame. I should have realized how hard Dad was taking my aunt’s kidnapping. She’d been like a sister to him. I put my arms around him to comfort him, like he’d done so many times for me. “I’m sorry, Dad. I wanted to spare you any bad news. Your heart—”
“My heart’s fine. Doctor said it was just a mild one.”
I said, “But I don’t want you to have a major heart attack.”
; He harrumphed and turned to Corrigan. “Any progress on finding Lena?”
Corrigan said, “We have someone who might be able to identify the kidnapper.”
“Then you’ll go after the bastard?” Dad stopped and his face turned as ash-colored as used-up charcoal. His hand flew to his chest.
Nothing existed for that moment but my father and his welfare. “What’s wrong, Dad?” I was terrified of his answer, but it’d be worse if he couldn’t respond.
Corrigan had his hand on the phone. “Do we need an ambulance?”
My father shook his head. “Just my medicine.”He reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a prescription tablet and stuck a pill under his tongue. Almost immediately the color in his face returned. “Angina. Medication fixes it right up.”
I didn’t believe he was okay. “You still need to go to the emergency room, in case it was more than that.”
Dad waved away my comment. “No. I’m fine now. Let’s not waste any more time. It’s Lena we should be concerned about.”
Corrigan looked uncertain for a moment, recovered and said, “I can’t order you to do anything unless you’re breaking the law. I’m not a doctor, but I can tell you this isn’t the place for you to be, Mr. DeNardo. It’s best if you go home and try to rest. We’ll let you know when there’s a break in the case.” He added, “Claire can go with you to make sure he’s okay?”
My daughterly instinct jumped at the chance to make this up to my dad. Plus, I’d be out from under Corrigan’s thumb. “Of course. Let’s go, Dad. We’ll keep each other from going crazy.” I cocked my head toward Corrigan. “And it means Officer Peterson won’t have to waste his time following me.”
Corrigan shook his head. “I guess he won’t.” His eyes were so red they matched his tie and the dark circles under them gave him a haunted look. Funny, I hadn’t noticed before. He needed rest as much as I did. I sympathized, but I couldn’t tell him to take a break. Not yet.
Dad left more willingly than I expected. But then, that angina attack probably took a lot out of him when he didn’t have much to begin with.
I pulled out my car keys. “Why don’t we take my car and pick up yours later?”
“I’m fine to drive. It’s not that far and there aren’t many people on the road.”
I didn’t want to argue with him. Tempers were short, anxiety high, so I relented. “Okay, but I’ll follow you and promise me if you start to feel anything wrong, you’ll pull over.”
He put his hand to my cheek. “I know you want to spare me from anything bad happening, but…”
I placed my hand over his. “Mom’s gone and Aunt Lena’s in danger. We need each other to lean on.”
He nodded. “I’ll be careful. See you at home.”
I watched him get into his car and drive off. I followed suit and hoped there’d be no calamity between here and his house. Once Dad was asleep I’d go back to Cannoli’s. Maybe the kidnapper would call me there.
My phone rang ten minutes away from the station. “Hello?”
“Claire—” It was my aunt.
I swerved and almost dropped the phone. “Aunt Lena, I—”
The kidnapper’s unwelcome voice began. “That was a stupid move, Claire. I guess you don’t want your aunt back after all.”
“I do. I swear I didn’t call the cops. They followed me. Please. Can we set this up again? I swear it’ll just be me and the flash drive.”
“Ya know, I like Lena. Hate to see anything bad happen to her, so I’ll think about it and let you know.”
My breathing was shallow from fear, but I realized Corrigan must have had my phone tapped. I was grateful for his help, but that passed as I remembered how he’d ruined my first opportunity to get my aunt back. I didn’t want him around to mess up my final chance.
My father pulled into his driveway and I followed. Before I could even think of helping him out of his car, I had to calm myself. I closed my eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Once I was sure I wouldn’t alarm Dad, I flung open my door and ran up to his car to help him out. As soon as we got into his house I had him sit down and told him, “I spoke to Aunt Lena. She’s alive.” I bit my lower lip so it wouldn’t tremble.
He smiled and slapped his thigh once. “Thank God. Brian found her?”
I hated to be the pin in his happy balloon, but I had to. “She’s still with the kidnapper. But it’s just a matter of time. You’ll see. Until then, we know she’s okay.” I was spinning a tale as tall as Paul Bunyan.
He hung his head. When did he get so gray? I’d do anything to protect this man from any further heartbreak. I had to get to Cicarelli’s Pizza and save her from Santore and the police’s friendly fire. “I’m going to get you some juice. The sugar will perk you up.”
It did just the opposite. He fell asleep and I saw my opportunity. I wrote Dad a note saying I was going home to pick up a few things and would be back soon. I wrote another note, put it in an envelope and sealed it. It was addressed to Corrigan, telling him where the copy of Joey’s flash drive would be. My dad didn’t have any stamps in the house. I’d deal with that later.
One vital and desperate task remained before I went hunting. Hunched over, prepared to say mea culpa and take a risk, I readied myself.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I called Alex from my father’s wall phone. “Alex? Don’t hang up. Please. Can I see you right now?”
“I’m flattered.” Alex’s voice was sarcastic, but a moment later in earnest he asked, “Why?”
“First, to say how sorry I am for how I treated you and was so suspicious of you. You didn’t deserve that. Second, I need your help.” I paused. “Was that enough groveling?”
He chuckled. “For now. I’m still at the office if you want to come down.”
“Thank you. I’ll explain when I get there. Give me fifteen minutes.” All the way there I prayed to St. Jude, the saint of the impossible, that Alex wouldn’t betray me or my aunt.
He greeted me in the lobby but I didn’t want to talk there, so he walked me over to a small conference room. I waited until he closed the door behind him to pull Joey’s flash drive out of my purse. “I found it.”
Alex’s jaw dropped. “Is that what I think it is?”
I nodded. “Now the hard part. Would you please call your uncle?”
Alex fell back into his chair. “Why? What’s your plan?”
I hadn’t thought my idea all the way through yet. It eventually grew clearer, just not better. “For him to know I’m going to tell Santore he can have Joey’s flash drive. In exchange he has to turn my aunt over. I’ll also tell him I made a copy, in case anything happens to me. If Santore works for your uncle, I should get my aunt back.”
“Are you sure that’ll work?”
“I know what I’m doing.” The truth was I had little confidence, but I didn’t want him to know that. I must have been pretty convincing because he picked up his phone and made the call. A woman answered, his aunt I supposed. Despite telling myself this was my best chance, stomach acid burned my throat.
Alex picked up a pen and tapped it softly on the desk. “Hi, Aunt Carmela. Is Uncle Michael there? Claire DeNardo wants to talk to him.”
His aunt responded but I couldn’t hear what she said, most likely because of my nerves ping-ponging in my brain.
Worry flashing across his face, Alex handed me the phone.
“Yeah?” It was Bucanetti with all his charms.
I took a deep breath, steadied myself and began. “I have Joey Corozza’s flash drive. You can have it back, though, if my aunt is returned to me safe.”
He snorted. “What flash drive? What aunt? Hell, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
This wasn’t going according to my plan. I forged ahead anyway. “Someone local wants the flash drive and this person has something I want.”
“Why would I give a rat’s ass what you or someone else wants?”
My hand tightened on the phone. “I’m asking for your he
lp. In return you get Joey’s flash drive, no strings attached.”
He laughed, a cold, hard sound that chilled me. “You’re crazy. Don’t bother me again.”
I had hoped to get to the kidnapper and get my aunt back by going straight to Bucanetti, but maybe Santore wasn’t working for him. Or, maybe he wasn’t the kidnapper after all. I rubbed my face and realized there wasn’t enough time to switch theories. I ended with a final plea, “I need your help, please.”
Bucanetti cursed and hung up.
I blinked several times, feeling numb, incapable of making a move. The room began to spin and buzzing replaced any words. Alex helped me into a nearby chair. “Here, sit down. I’ll get you some water.”
I lowered myself into the seat and stared out the window, trying to put my shattered scheme back together. Then I recalled another of Gino’s rules: ‘Make a plan, Stan, but don’t marry it.’
With time racing by and my strategy in pieces, I had no choice but to stagger down the road to the finish. I hoped whatever I did wouldn’t finish Aunt Lena.
Alex squatted next to me. He gently cradled my chin and turned my face toward his. “I don’t understand why you’re willing to give that flash drive to my uncle and for the record, I don’t think it’s right. In fact I’d like to see him put away, but if it’ll help you, I’ll get him involved.”
Was sunshine peaking through the rain clouds? “How?”
“He’s got to be interested, but he probably thought you were setting him up. I’ll call my aunt again and tell her I’m going with you to confront the kidnapper.”
He held up his hand when I started to interrupt him. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay out of it. But my uncle won’t know that. When it comes to family she’ll jump all over him to help. And between my aunt and me, we can persuade him it’s a legitimate offer.”
“Oka-a-ay.” Remorse that I’d dragged him into my troubles and even didn’t trust him hit me hard. “It’s obvious I acted like an idiot. I’m sorry for that and for dragging you into this…”
“Apology accepted. Thinking about being related to that New Jersey scum makes me want to shower to get the Bucanetti stink off me. I offered to help you when this started. I don’t go back on my word.”
Killer Cannoli (A Terrified Detective Mystery Book 2) Page 16
