“Why’d you go back after you agreed to meet Jake tonight?” he asked.
I shrugged. “For the same reason you’d drop in unannounced,” I said. “He wasn’t expecting me. He didn’t have time to work out his story.”
Slovineck frowned, patted his coat pocket as if he was fishing for a cigarette and let his hand drop to the table again.
“But you never got to ask him anything because the building exploded and he was knocked unconscious?”
I nodded impatiently. “Your turn,” I said. “Did you run the prints you recovered at my aunt’s house?”
“Too many,” he said. “We’re running them, sure, but it’ll take forever, you know that.”
I looked at Detective Slovineck, noting the bags under his eyes and the fatigue that deepened the lines in his face. He wasn’t such a bad guy, I thought, just out of his league. Murders didn’t happen in Glenn Ford. Oh, sure, drug deals went bad, and occasionally two rival motorcycle gangs had it out in a bar, but the murder of a man with no enemies? That just didn’t happen in our small town.
“Listen,” I said. “I know you’ve got no reason to believe me, but I’m telling you, my uncle gave every last dime he had to Jake Carpenter. Hell, for some reason he even made Jake the executor of his will and administrator of his estate. I may not have the signed agreement, but you could look at the bank records and see that Uncle Benny made a large withdrawal about the same time Jake probably made a large deposit.”
The big detective nodded slowly. “I was already thinking to do that,” he said. “I intend to talk to him as soon as possible. There’s a lot that doesn’t add up about Carpenter, but by the same token, that doesn’t make him a killer.”
“Can you think of anyone else in town who might’ve had a better motive?”
Slovineck met my gaze. “Frankly, no. But your aunt isn’t exactly stable.” He took a sip of his coffee, silently nodding when the big-haired waitress approached and held the coffee carafe out to him.
“Aunt Lucy would never…” I sputtered. “She loved my uncle. He was her world!”
Detective Slovineck moved with slow deliberation, pouring creamer in his coffee and emptying packets of sugar into the cup. He stirred the mess with a spoon before looking up at me.
“I’m not saying your aunt would have done anything deliberately. Maybe she thought she was helping him—maybe she doesn’t remember. You know, your cousin did say that your aunt has been a little erratic since her stroke last year.”
I bristled. “Aunt Lucy is not that kind of unstable! She’s brilliant. Some people mistake that for eccentricity, and maybe it is, but Aunt Lucy’s not as out of it as people might think!”
I knew, even as the words spilled out of my mouth, that I was being defensive and maybe even lapsing into a bit of denial. Aunt Lucy had taken me in after my parents died. She didn’t have to give up her career and stay home with me, but she said it was something she wanted to do. She taught me to cook, held me when I missed my mom, and helped me to understand organic chemistry. She was no mental slouch, and she was no killer. I would never bring myself to believe that.
“My aunt was one of the best research chemists in the country before she quit to stay home with me,” I said, trying to calm down and appear rational. “She has a tiny stroke while she and my uncle are on vacation out west, and suddenly everybody wants to make her crazy. Well, she’s not!”
I thought of Aunt Lucy feeding Lloyd the dog at the kitchen table, swearing he was my uncle reincarnated, and cringed. Okay, so Aunt Lucy was a little nuts, but she wasn’t a killer.
Detective Slovineck knew he’d hit a raw nerve. He reached out and patted my hand, like a father reassuring a child.
“I’m not saying your aunt killed your uncle. All I’m saying is that we have to think of every angle and investigate every possibility, no matter how foolish it seems.”
He paused, drawing his hand back and becoming the police officer again. “I want to talk to Jake Carpenter, but I’m going to do it by the book, the right way, ’cause if he did this, I want the case to go down right. I’m not taking any chances, okay?”
I stood up, threw a couple of bills on the table, and nodded. “Just so long as you know I’m not backing off, either. You do this investigation by the book,” I said. “But I follow my instincts. I don’t think we have time to waste on investigating irrelevant and impossible options.”
He made an attempt to warn me off, but I was out the door and gone before he could get the words out. Jake Carpenter had disappeared. I was pretty sure he’d had help. If the police didn’t know where he was, then he hadn’t checked into a local hospital. So where had he gone? And if he was so innocent, why hadn’t he sought medical help? Jake’s injuries could be life threatening without proper care. What in the world was going on?
I quickened my pace, walking briskly toward the cut-through to the Acme parking lot. Carpenter’s Auto Body Shop, or what was left of it, had been cordoned off. Traffic snaked in a detour around the block so the firefighters could keep the flames from spreading to the old Methodist church now reincarnated as a Danish furniture store.
As I watched, one wall of Jake’s building began to tremble. Men’s voices called out warnings and hoses were pulled back. The bricks gave, crumpling inward. Ash and embers rose into the sky as a black cloud of smoke and heat billowed out in all directions.
A collective cry echoed through the crowd of onlookers rimming the yellow caution tape. I skimmed the fringes of the crowd, heading back to my car as if it were home base. As I drew closer I made out two familiar forms. My cousin Nina stood leaning against the passenger-side door, ankles crossed, a cigarette dangling from one manicured hand. Lloyd, the dog, sat in the driver’s seat, both paws propped up on the steering wheel. Neither one of them looked happy.
Nina didn’t see me coming until I was right up on her. She was staring at Jake’s garage and shaking her head slowly from side to side, as if she couldn’t quite take it all in. Lloyd, on the other hand, saw me and ignored me. He was staring at something or someone to the left of the fire. As I stepped closer I could hear his low, throaty growl and see the hackles rising on the back of his neck.
I switched my attention back to Nina and noticed for the first time a streak of dried tears and soot on her face. She was biting her lower lip, her eyes round with worry or concern. She didn’t seem to see me until I reached out a hand and grabbed her arm. Relief overtook the anxious look in her eyes, but only for a moment.
“Is Aunt Lucy with you?” she asked.
I looked over my shoulder. “No,” I said. “I thought she was with you!”
“Shit!” Nina brought the unlit cigarette up to her lips and appeared to inhale deeply. “She gave us the slip!” Nina glared at her cigarette and then threw it away with an irritated sigh. “Everything was fine. Those two detectives were asking her questions about Uncle Benny’s papers and what could’ve been taken, and she was doing fine, answering them and showing them Uncle Benny’s file drawers. Then the call about the fire came across their radios and they both jumped up like they’d been shot in the ass.”
“What about Aunt Lucy?” I asked, wishing she’d get to the point faster.
Nina sighed. “That’s what I’m saying,” she said. “Aunt Lucy got all bent out of shape and said she was going to listen to the scanner in her room. I was trying to see if the noon news had anything on about it.” Nina threw up her hands in disgust. “Next thing I know, she’s gone. Her Buick was gone and this freakin’ meatball-head of a dog was gone, too!”
Lloyd growled a little lower when Nina called him a meatball-head, but was otherwise preoccupied by whatever it was that seemed to be holding his attention. I stared out at the crowd, trying to identify the source of his anxiety, but couldn’t find anything other than a woman with twins in a baby carriage to merit such alarm.
“So you figured she’d be here?” I asked.
Nina looked at me with the scorn of a twentysomething-year-old
. “Well, it was the logical conclusion, wasn’t it?”
I shrugged, waiting for her to get on with it.
“I hoof it down here, in these,” she said gesturing to her high-heeled sandals. “And all’s I get for my trouble is blisters and him.” Nina jerked her head in Lloyd’s direction. “And is he going to come up with where Aunt Lucy’s gone? Oh, no, he just wants to play cabdriver and sit here growling at babies!”
Nina scowled at Lloyd. “Moron,” she muttered.
“So, let me get this straight,” I said, attempting to follow her. “You found Lloyd sitting in my Camaro, but you didn’t find Aunt Lucy’s car or Aunt Lucy?”
“That’s what I said!” Nina groused. “For a while there, I thought maybe she drove into the building, especially after I hear someone saying a woman got blown up in her car!”
That explained the tears and the worried look I’d seen on Nina’s face.
“It wasn’t Aunt Lucy,” I reassured her. “Are you sure she didn’t just go to the store or something?”
Nina gave me another withering eye-rolling glare. “Come on, Stella,” she said. “We’re talking about Aunt Lucy here. There is no way tragedy comes to town and Aunt Lucy decides it’s a good time to go shopping. Not her. Aunt Lucy listens to that scanner 24/7. That’s how come she knew about Uncle Benny before the police could notify her. She was down at Jake’s before the ambulance got there. You didn’t know that?”
I shook my head. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Paint Bucket and Weasel, Glenn Ford’s finest EMTs, working their way toward us, their attention focused on Nina’s long legs and tiny miniskirt.
“Yeah, Aunt Lucy don’t miss much. That’s why I figured she’d be here.”
Lloyd whined and laid his head in Nina’s lap.
“You think she’d be down at St. Anthony’s Lodge?” I asked. I didn’t wait for her answer. “That’s where Uncle Benny always went. Since she and Lloyd here got separated, maybe we should try there. I mean, if she really thinks Lloyd’s Uncle Benny, well, she’d go looking for him in all the usual places.”
Nina shrugged. “I give up! I guess it’s better than looking for her in the grocery store.”
I felt the tension in the pit of my stomach growing. First Jake disappears, then Aunt Lucy. Gone. Vanished. I was reduced to looking for my aunt in an all-male Italian social club because she believed my dog was her dead husband brought back to life. Now, how was I going to explain that one to the man working the door?
Chapter 10
In the end, we were not the ones who found Aunt Lucy. She found us and it was a very good thing she did because I was on my way to hell with Nina close behind and Lloyd riding shotgun. It was not a pretty picture, but by that time, who was left to care?
Nina and I drew a blank at St. Anthony’s Lodge. The place was deserted. The parking lot was empty, and the only sign of life was a giant sandwich board placed outside the front door. Pro-Indy Wrestling, Saturday Night. Tag Team Special: the Wreckless Wranglers Versus the Well-Hung Warriors. Witness the Return of Hometown Girl, Jacqui O, In a Stellar Rematch Against Angelique the Terrible!
Nina read the sign aloud and shook her head. “Oh, my God!” she cried. “This venue has so gone downhill!”
I looked at her. “What was your first clue, the tag teams or the lady mud wrestlers?”
Nina shook her head harder. “Spike would be so upset,” she said. “They turned the band down when Spike wanted to play here. I mean, they like, said the band was too fringe. Can you believe it?” Nina massaged her temples and closed her eyes. “I feel a migraine coming on,” she moaned.
Lloyd looked away but not before I saw the grin on his face. He thought my cousin was a loo-loo.
“Nina,” I said, “focus! Aunt Lucy is lost somewhere. She needs us. She could be in danger.”
Nina’s eyebrows rose. “You think? Really? Why?”
I took a deep breath and wished for a visit from the patience fairy. “Did it not occur to you that maybe the person who killed Uncle Benny might want to kill Aunt Lucy? I mean, it’s not likely, but what if he wasn’t the only target? What if Jake wanted Aunt Lucy dead so there would be nothing between him and the money he owed Uncle Benny? What if the people who robbed the house this morning wanted to kill Aunt Lucy?”
I’d gone too far. Nina’s eyes widened, filled with tears, and she began to cry. She erupted into loud, hiccupping, snotty wails that would’ve drawn a crowd in tiny Glenn Ford had its residents not all been at work or inside preparing early dinners.
“Aw, Nina, don’t cry!” I threw an arm around her shoulders. “I’m not saying anyone’s after Aunt Lucy for sure. I’m just saying we need to watch our priorities.”
“I only said what I did about Spike because I guess I just miss…” She snuffled the rest of the sentence into a crumpled napkin, and I slid my arm around her thin shoulders.
“I know you do, honey. It must be hard for you to be away, especially with so much going on. Don’t worry, we’ll find Aunt Lucy and get everything straightened out. I’m sure Spike misses you, too.”
I swear Lloyd snickered. He padded after us as we headed back to the car, and without a doubt, he was laughing. I shot him a dirty look and kept trying to calm Nina down so we could focus on looking for Aunt Lucy.
“What sort of law did Spike practice?” I asked. I didn’t really care. I only wanted to divert Nina’s attention to something less laden with emotion.
“Oh, Spike didn’t have a private law practice,” she said. “Spike was the assistant district attorney here, you know, for Chester County.”
That got my complete and total attention.
I stopped on the sidewalk, my hand clutching the door handle of Aunt Lucy’s car, and stared at my little cousin.
“You mean your boyfriend is the former assistant D.A. for this county?” I asked. This was too amazingly unbelievable. “He prosecuted criminal cases? He knows all the detectives? He could like, grease the wheels of Lady Justice?”
“Not exactly,” she said.
“Not exactly what? He didn’t prosecute cases or he couldn’t grease the wheels of justice?”
“Well, neither, I guess…I mean, that’s not what I mean.” Nina broke off, frowning.
Before she could get all twisted around in some New Age explanation of how Spike’s true calling conflicted with his ability to help us, I interrupted. “Nina, does Spike know every detective in Chester County by name?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“No buts, Nina, just yes or no. Could Spike use his influence to push this investigation?”
“Well, maybe, but, Stella…”
“Nina,” I said, “you gotta call Spike. Right now! We need that man’s help, and I don’t mean tomorrow!”
“Well, I will but I gotta tell you, Spike’s not…”
“Nina,” I started to argue, but stiffened as I felt someone behind me grab my arm. I whirled, reached my hand behind my flannel shirt, into my waistband, and wrapped my fingers around my Glock.
I found myself face-to-face with a wizened old woman, dressed head to toe in black and carrying a foil-wrapped casserole dish.
“Stella? Stella Valocchi, that’s you, isn’t it, dear?”
I squinted, trying to unearth the identity from my lost memory banks, and finally succeeding.
“Mrs. Cozzone! Wow, it’s been a long time!” Eleven years hadn’t changed the old woman much, except perhaps to add a few more wrinkles. She was still the watchdog of Glenn Ford, ever vigilant and ever ready with a condolence casserole.
“Here,” she said, shoving the frozen brick into my arms. “In your time of sorrow,” she said. “Give that to your aunt Lucia, eh?”
I smiled politely. Nina smiled. Even Lloyd smiled. But we were all probably thinking, That’s another pan of lasagna to add to the 451 others that sit waiting in the basement freezer.
“Thanks, Mrs. C,” I said. I half turned then looked back at the old woman, as if I were just then wondering abou
t something. It was important to ask the question I had in mind while keeping it low-key so we could prevent an all-out panic driven by Mrs. Cozzone, the neighborhood Italian hot wire.
“You haven’t seen Aunt Lucy today, have you?” I asked. I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know that Nina’s smile had been firmly cemented into place.
“Why, no, dear,” Mrs. Cozzone said. “Is something wrong? Is she missing? Isn’t she at home? You know, after the break-in, I’d be home cleaning up after those bastards. You don’t think she went looking for them, do you? Or even worse, the little fuckers could’ve come back for her! Maybe she’s been kidnapped!”
The profanity, coming from such a tiny, elderly woman, took me back, but I tried to stay calm.
“Oh, no, no, nothing like that,” I assured her. “I just wondered if you thought she looked tired, that’s all. No big deal. She says she’s okay, but I worry about her health.”
Mrs. Cozzone nodded wisely. “Yeah, grief and shock does that to a person. Of course, I see your aunt all the time, not like you young people, so out of touch with those that raised you, the very ones that gave you the food out of their mouths, the ones that suffered and labored to put a roof over your ungrateful heads…”
“Thanks, Mrs. C,” I said, cutting her off.
I was trying to back up, but Mrs. Cozzone already had me pinned against the hood of the Camaro. It was all I could do to pull up on the door handle and begin edging the door open for a quick escape.
Nina and Lloyd had already slid into the front seat from the passenger side, leaving me to extricate us from the tentacles of Mrs. Cozzone’s fit of righteous indignation. I jumped behind the car door, sank behind the wheel, jammed the key into the ignition and cranked it.
Outside the vehicle, old Mrs. Cozzone continued her lecture, whipping herself into a frenzy that brought a fine sheen of sweat out across her hairy upper lip. I pulled away from the curb with a squeal that signaled rubber burning on asphalt.
Stella, Get Your Gun Page 11
