D.B. Hayes, Detective

by Darlene Scalera; Dani Sinclair

  It seemed awfully chancy to me, but then, what did I know about people like the Russos? Or Nicole Wickley, for that matter.

  “I don’t see Delvecchi letting a stranger walk up behind him and shoot him in the head,” Brandon said slowly. “I do see Russo insisting on going with Delvecchi to talk to me.”

  I thought about Russo’s cold eyes and shuddered. I didn’t doubt for a minute the man was capable of cold-blooded murder. “Nicole really is in danger.”

  “So are you. You’re the one who made a hash of his plans. That’s why Nicole came to see you.”

  Lunch turned to stone in my stomach. He crumpled his food wrapper and shoved it in the bag.

  “We need to have a talk with our new client.”

  “Shouldn’t we go talk to the police?”

  “Yes. As soon as we talk to Nicole, we’ll call Dex and tell him our theory. But I want to see what Nicole can tell us first.”

  I didn’t. I wanted on the first flight out of the country. I was pretty sure Australia would be a nice place to live. Instead we dumped our trash and headed for Mrs. Keene’s house.

  I parked near the garage again and we walked to the back door. When Mrs. Keene didn’t answer right away, Brandon twisted the handle and we walked inside. Lunch remains sat on the table. It was easy to see which dishes belonged to Nicole. Nothing else appeared out of place, but the house had an empty, deserted feel that was tangible.

  Brandon moved toward the hall, motioning for me to wait. Obviously he didn’t have a gun, but I wasn’t worried. I knew he wasn’t going to find anyone.

  While Brandon searched the house, I went back outside to the garage. Mrs. Keene’s car was gone, a fact I pointed out as soon as Brandon joined me.

  “There’s no sign of any trouble in the house,” he told me.

  I nodded. “Do you think they just went somewhere?”

  “Didn’t you tell them to stay put?”

  “Of course I did, but Nicole had a wad of cash on her. Maybe she conned Mrs. Keene into taking her to the airport. Maybe she decided we weren’t her best bet after all, retainer or no retainer.”

  “And maybe someone encouraged them to leave.”

  I didn’t want to believe that. If it was true, I’d just put a harmless old woman in real danger.

  Chapter Fourteen

  We decided to wait around in case they had just run to the store or something. But while we waited, Brandon called his friend Dex and laid out our suspicions for the officer. Even from the one-sided conversation I was able to hear, I could tell his friend was less than happy. So was Brandon when he hung up.

  “Dex is going to talk to some people and get back to us.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Brandon looked angry. “If he can convince his captain we’re right, and his captain can convince the powers that be, they’ll go and ask Russo a few questions. In the meantime I’m supposed to tell you that Detective Martin wants to talk to you again.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  Before he could respond, my cell phone rang. The number that came up showed the call was from another cell phone. I figured it didn’t matter at this point if it was Officer Martin. In fact, I was thinking it might be a good idea to find myself surrounded by police officers.

  “D.B. Hayes,” I said briskly.

  “Ms. Hayes, this is Albert Russo. I was wondering if we might talk.”

  My stomach did a quick flip, threatening the lunch I’d just eaten. I mouthed his identity to Brandon, who instantly moved closer. I held the phone out a short ways, hoping he could hear, too.

  “Go ahead, Mr. Russo.”

  “Actually I’d like to meet with you in person.”

  Brandon shook his head violently.

  “I’m outside your office, but I see the flower shop is closed. I’ll wait for you to get here.”

  And he disconnected. I looked at Brandon. He was already reaching for my cell phone, punching in new numbers.

  “Dex, Brandon… Yes, I know it’s Sunday. I’m sorry, it was supposed to be your day off. Never mind talking to your captain, there isn’t time. Russo’s at Flower World. Dee and I are on our way over there to meet him.”

  “Are you crazy?” I demanded. He ignored me.

  “We need backup… No! He’d spot an army and we’ve got no proof of anything… Yeah. That’s what I’m hoping. I know it’s a risk, but what choice do we have?… There’s no time for a wire. Dee, do you have a tape recorder?”

  “Not on me.”

  “We’re on our own…. No. I know the layout. I’m thinking Dee should go in alone. One of us can hide in the bathroom, the other can hide in the back room. If she leaves the office door open, we should be able to hear whatever is said.”

  “You’re out of your mind!”

  He squeezed my shoulder. “Right. We’ll have to keep him from taking her anyplace. He won’t kill her there, but if she can keep him talking, it should prove interesting to see what scheme he has in mind next… Uh-huh. Fifteen minutes.”

  I was shaking all over. “You’re insane,” I told him as he hung up. “Russo wants to kill us.”

  “He’s going to want to find out how much you know and who you told, first.”

  “You make me feel so much better.”

  “You have to do this, Dee. It’s the best chance we have. Do you have a gun? No, of course you don’t.”

  “Actually I do,” I said, trying not to let him see me shake. “It’s out in the car.”

  “Great!”

  “No, it isn’t. What am I going to do with a gun?”

  He grinned. “For me. I’m going to back you up. Dex is joining us. No one will hurt you, I promise.”

  “From your lips to God’s ear.”

  “What?”

  “One of Trudy’s sayings.”

  He smiled then, one of those slow, sweet smiles that would have left me weak at the knees if they hadn’t already turned gelatinous. Before I knew what he intended, he cupped my chin and kissed me with slow, deliberate thoroughness.

  “I will not let anything happen to you,” he said firmly. “I swear it.”

  My mind tumbled in chaos. I couldn’t seem to think. I was scared past all reason, but somehow the fact that Brandon was so steady helped to steady me. I knew I was going to do what he wanted because he was right. We needed to know what Russo was planning next. Our lives depended on this.

  He folded down Frog’s seat and had to work to pull out the small bag, which had become lodged in the narrow space. A lace bra spilled out.

  “Very pretty.”

  “Pervert,” I said, taking both the bra and the blouse that came next from his fingers. “I’ll find the gun.”

  “Got it,” he said. “Where’s the clip?”

  “There should be three of them in there.”

  After a bit more rummaging, he found them, inserted one and stuck the gun in his waistband. Then he stopped. “Would you rather…?”

  “No! I don’t like guns. And I have pepper spray in my purse.”

  “Better than nothing. Okay. Let’s go. Drop me a street away and, whatever you do, don’t get in a car with him.”

  “I’m not entirely stupid,” I protested.

  “You aren’t the least bit stupid,” he assured me. “Just be careful. Go in the back way and leave the door unlocked.”

  The shaking started once I dropped him off. Part of me wanted to keep driving and to heck with Albert Russo and Brandon. The other part was insatiably curious. What did Russo want with me now—besides the obvious?

  He was parked out back in a long black Cadillac and he was alone. I parked closer to the door and headed straight there without acknowledging him. I kept one hand in my purse on the pepper spray. If he thought I was carrying a gun, so much the better. I was glad Aunt Lacy and Trudy weren’t still here.

  “Thank you for meeting me so promptly,” he said, stepping inside as I held the door open for him.

  “It sounded like an order to
me,” I told him tersely, leading the way to my office. “Have a seat and tell me what I can do for you.”

  I was proud of how businesslike I sounded. I was quaking inside, but I was darned if I was going to let him know it. George appeared, brushing up against my leg. Russo gave the cat a scowl.

  “I dislike animals.”

  “George belongs to my aunt.” I made no move to chase the cat out but moved around the desk and carefully sat down. I glimpsed a movement in the hall at Russo’s back. Reinforcements had arrived. George immediately jumped into my lap, distracting both of us. Russo’s jaw tightened and those cold eyes grew icy.

  “Perhaps coming here was a mistake.”

  “What is it you want, Mr. Russo?” I asked, emboldened with the knowledge Brandon was out there.

  “I want you to find my wife.”

  I had to force my mouth closed. It was almost past my lips to ask him which wife.

  “I thought you were applying for a divorce,” I said instead.

  “That is my intention, however I need to find her first.” He studied me the way he would an insect. I was really glad for the comfort George’s small weight gave me. He purred as I stroked his head.

  “Ms. Hayes, I am going to tell you something I have not told anyone else. I believe my wife killed my associate, Hogan Delvecchi.”

  Okay, he had me. I couldn’t think of a thing to say to that.

  “My wife was not having an affair with Mr. Kirkpatrick, as you already know. But as much as it pains me to admit this, she was having an affair with Mr. Delvecchi.”

  And the worst part was that even knowing what I did, I believed him. Or at least, I believed that he believed his wife had been having an affair with Delvecchi. There was an edge of anger in those words that sent a visible chill up my arms.

  “Hogan Delvecchi is dead.” And Russo had now handed me the perfect motive for both murders.

  His lips pursed. “Yes. Mr. Kirkpatrick is being questioned by the police for his murder, I believe.”

  “We both know Brandon is innocent,” I said harshly. “Do you have any proof?”

  “That Elaine murdered Delvecchi? No. But if you check with your police sources, I believe you will find that they discovered a woman had been staying at his home. I’m certain if you tell them it was Elaine they’ll be able to prove it.”

  Was it possible? Could Elaine be alive, and not dead like we’d thought?

  “Why don’t you tell them yourself?”

  “My wife has some business papers I would like to retrieve before they fall into the wrong hands. To that end, I would like you to find her first. I am prepared to pay you quite well, Ms. Hayes.”

  He started to reach for his pocket and I stopped him. Only because I knew Brandon was in position outside the door did I feel it was safe to risk my neck.

  “You’re talking about the papers Elaine told Brandon she had that would tie you to his brother’s murder?” He stilled. “No, thank you, Mr. Russo. I know all about Nicole Wickley posing as your wife. I’ve already given that information to the police.”

  George leaped off my lap and ran out the door, startling both of us. Albert Russo recovered quickly. His cold eyes bored a hole straight through me with the intensity of his stare.

  “You surprise me once again, Ms. Hayes. I don’t generally underestimate people as seriously as I underestimated you. Your looks are…deceptive. Have you spoken with Ms. Wickley?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact. Before you spirited her away.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  There was no way he could have feigned that blank look of surprise. And it quickly turned to an expression of calculation that lasted mere seconds.

  “I believe this conversation is pointless.”

  He started to rise. My hand closed over the pepper spray and my mouth went dry.

  “A gun is unnecessary,” he said coldly, coming to his feet and eyeing my hand still inside my purse. “You are in no danger from me. However I can’t promise the same immunity from my wife. If she believes you are helping me, she will kill you just as she did Hogan Delvecchi. I believe Ms. Wickley is in the same peril. Please pass that information along to her if you see her again.”

  I swallowed past my fear. “Everything is coming unraveled, Mr. Russo. No matter what you do now, the police are going to be investigating you.”

  “I believe you. I will go home and speak with my attorney at once. Take care, Ms. Hayes. I think it would be a shame if you don’t live long enough to grow into your potential.”

  He turned and strode out the door. I hurried to stand, and the stupid chair rolled back, toppling me against the wall.

  Brandon charged into the room a second later, my gun in his hand. He looked angry as he helped me to my feet.

  “Jeez, you take chances.”

  I felt shaky, like someone who knew they’d just had a very close call. “He doesn’t have Nicole.”

  “I heard.”

  “Where’s your friend Dex?”

  “He moved outside ahead of Russo when we realized he was leaving. He’ll follow him to see where he goes.”

  “Good.”

  The sound of gunshots splintered the Sunday afternoon quiet. We raced to the back door, nearly tripping over George, only to face Russo, who came rushing back inside with a gun in his left hand. Blood ran down the side of his face.

  “You filthy little bitch. You set me up!” he yelled shrilly.

  His cold eyes were wild with hate. Brandon had shoved my gun in his waistband when he had helped me up. Now he reached for it, but he never had a chance. Russo fired.

  With the sound ringing in my ears, I didn’t stop to think. An empty pail we use to store flowers in while working on arrangements was sitting within reach. I heaved it at his head. As a distraction, it worked perfectly. A second bullet ripped through the pail, shattering a pair of ceramic vases on the shelf behind me.

  Brandon was moving before he could take aim again. He slammed into Russo’s chest with his head. Russo went back against the doorjamb with stunning force. Still, he brought his gun hand down against Brandon’s shoulder.

  Rage lent me a fierce recklessness. I don’t like guns, I don’t like being shot at and I really didn’t like Albert Russo. I ran forward and wrenched his bony wrist up and back as hard as I could. The gun fired once more. The sound was deafening. I refused to release my crushing hold. I barely noticed Brandon hitting him. Then hands pulled at me, yanking me clear. A large, scary-looking man with a ponytail and an unkempt beard yanked the gun free of Russo’s hand. His own weapon was out and it was a whole lot bigger than Russo’s nine millimeter.

  I stepped back and let Brandon and the stranger toss Albert Russo against the workstation to get handcuffs on him. Sirens screamed their approach. Through the open back door I saw a crumpled pile of rags on the asphalt beside the black Cadillac. The rags moved feebly. I sprinted in that direction without conscious thought.

  The rags proved to be a blond woman who could only be Elaine Russo. She was straining to reach a .38 revolver a few yards away from her blood-soaked body.

  “Stay still,” I told her, bending to retrieve the gun. “An ambulance is on the way.”

  She looked up at me with hate-filled eyes. “Go to hell.”

  I took a sharp step back and decided to let the EMTs and the police deal with Elaine Russo.

  In short order the parking lot and the flower shop filled with people in uniforms. George escaped and I scooped him up, holding him close against my chest.

  I was horrified to discover Brandon had taken a bullet across his forearm. He was actually lucky Russo had been such a terrible shot. The man had been standing only a few feet away, yet the bullet had only left a nasty gouge. He’d done a much better job on the wife, who’d been lying in wait for him beside his car.

  Brandon’s friend Dex had seen the whole thing. He’d left the shop, intent on getting to his own car in time to follow Russo. By the time he’d
spotted Elaine open fire on her husband it had been too late. Russo had returned fire with a vengeance and headed back toward the flower shop, certain I had set him up for her attack.

  I had to lock poor George in the office to keep him out from underfoot while the police went over the crime scene. Elaine Russo was rushed into surgery. A defiantly mute Albert Russo was also taken to Lakewood Hospital for treatment of a head wound. She’d managed to graze him, at least.

  Brandon refused transportation to the hospital and was treated by the EMTs there at the flower shop.

  I answered the same questions from multiple people, including Lieutenant Martin, who’d finally arrived with another plainclothes officer I’d never seen before. By then I was growing pretty frantic.

  “Look, these other people won’t listen to me, but you have to look for Mrs. Keene and Nicole Wickley!”

  “Relax, Ms. Hayes. They are both safe,” Detective Martin assured me. “Mrs. Keene took Ms. Wickley to see Judge Dogsmore this afternoon. After hearing her tale, he called me. We placed Ms. Wickley in protective custody this evening. I’ve just come from there. Ms. Wickley has confirmed what you told us about her part in this. Like you, she believed Mrs. Russo was dead. We already have confirmation that the real Elaine Russo had been staying with Delvecchi this week from several neighbors who saw them together. We’re not as incompetent as the public believes, Ms. Hayes.”

  For the first time I began to relax.

  “Good. I’m not either,” I told him. “Brandon and I don’t think Elaine killed Delvecchi, despite what Russo said.”

  Other than mild surprise, nothing showed on his face. He waited silently for me to continue.

  “It makes no sense,” I said, picking my words with care. “Why would Elaine try to frame Brandon? Albert Russo had a motive, she didn’t. Russo would have been searching for Elaine, especially if she does have papers that tie him to Seth Kirkpatrick’s murder. Ask Delvecchi’s neighbors if someone else asked about the woman staying with him before you did. Brandon, Delvecchi and Elaine were dangerous to Albert Russo. Brandon thinks he ordered Delvecchi to go with him to talk to Brandon. I think he’s right.”