It Cannoli Be Murder

by Karoline Barrett

  Emily had arranged chairs in a cozy circle in the middle of her store. I set my scones and fruit tart on the counter where the cash register was and Olivia did the same with her sandwiches.

  “Oh, those look delicious,” said Mary Sue. “How do you two women stay so skinny when you work in a bakery?”

  “Sheer willpower,” replied Olivia, grinning. “Sometimes it works and sometimes not.”

  “And here’s my special Sangria,” announced Emily as she placed a pitcher on the counter. “Hope everyone likes it. If you all will take a seat, we can get started. Welcome to Mystery Monday. There’s not much to discuss since we haven’t started the book yet, but I hope everyone gets reading, so next week’s discussion will be interesting.”

  “I think we should talk about our own murders,” said Emmaline. She was one of the Destiny Divas. “Remember when Mr. Baldelli was killed, y’all, and Molly gave us each a suspect to research?”

  “No thank you,” Elizabeth, another one of the divas spoke up, “I’m not doing that again. Just leave the real murder solving to the police! I’d rather read about a fictional murder. Everything gets neatly wrapped up at the end.”

  “Molly, are you helping the police again?” asked one of the other woman who’d I’d seen at Bread and Batter, but whose name I couldn’t come up with.

  “She is,” piped in Olivia before I could answer. “She’s helping her cousin, Alex. He’s a detective in town now, with Sean.”

  “Let’s forget about real murders,” I said, glancing at Emily who didn’t look too happy about having her book discussion hijacked, and I didn’t blame her. “We should concentrate on our chosen book. I think Emily made a wonderful choice. Everyone grab a sandwich, scone, or a piece of my fruit tart, and a glass of sangria, and let’s talk about the book and what we want to concentrate on the next time we meet.”

  Emily flashed a grateful expression in my direction and we all settled down and did just that. It was good to forget about real murders for a while.

  I was cleaning up after our discussion when Emmaline approached me. “Molly?”

  “Oh, hey Emmaline. I’m glad you came tonight. I hope you had a good time.”

  “I did. I think this is a real good idea y’all had. I’m looking forward to reading this book and seeing what the next one is.”

  “Me too.” I realized after a few seconds she was still standing there, with a worried look on her face. She was twisting the life out of a napkin she held in her hands. “Is something the matter?”

  “Um…Is everything okay between your handsome detective and you? Y’all still an item?”

  Oy vey! “Let me guess. You saw him talking to a woman with red hair.”

  She gasped. “You’re good! I guess detectiving is in your blood. Is that a word? How did you know?”

  I sighed. “Let’s just say you aren’t the first person to have a Sean and a redheaded woman sighting. For some reason, this seems to be of paramount interest to a lot of you.” I waited for a moment. Obviously, she wanted to fill me in on the details, but she was waiting for a signal from me. I knew I’d regret it, but I went for it. “Okay, spill. Where did this Sean and redheaded woman sighting happen?”

  She started right in. “I was on my way to visit a friend and I saw him standing in the driveway of a house on Barker Street,” her words rushed out. “The redheaded woman was leanin’ up against a cute little red convertible. Sean was facing her. They were having a conversation. I slowed way down because I was going to wave at him, and then thought to myself, Well, isn’t that the stupidest thought you’ve had lately, Emmaline, he doesn’t know who you are from a fig tree. He’ll think you’re some kind of nut and arrest you for stalkery, or craziness! I sped up. I hate gossip of all kinds, but I just couldn’t help mentionin’ it.”

  Stalkery? That was a good one. “Hmmm,” I replied. Everyone hates gossip, yet we all love to spread it.

  “You’re not upset with me, are you?” she prodded when I didn’t reply right way. “I mean for telling you. It’s not like I think anything inappropriate was going on.”

  “I don’t think so, either. What is the big deal?” I was suddenly peeved. “Why does everyone suddenly feel the need to report what Sean was doing, and with whom? I’m sure she isn’t the only woman he’s spoken to since he’s been in Destiny. This is so middle school.” I threw my empty dessert pans back in the box I’d brought them in harder than necessary.

  Emmaline touched my arm. “You’re right. I’m sorry I upset you.”

  I drew in a calming breath and tried counting to ten. I made it to three. Whoever said when you’re upset to stop and count to ten was an idiot as far as I was concerned. “It’s fine. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “No, I understand I should have kept my big mouth shut. Forgive me? I won’t do it again. I don’t care how many women I see him with.”

  My annoyance seeped away. Emmaline was so sweet, and she had that southern accent I could just eat up. Who could stay upset with her? Not me. “Deal!”

  CHAPTER 15

  * * *

  “He gave you how much?” Sean asked as we took the dogs on their last walk later that evening. It was dark out, and crickets were singing to us.

  “I know! Olivia and I were floored. I’m still amazed.”

  “That’s great. I’m happy for you, babe.” He took my hand. “Everything okay?”

  “Everything else is great. What about with you?”

  “Just insanely busy. This cybergang thing is huge. I can’t discuss, but they’re dangerous.”

  “That’s scary. So, we’re good, right?”

  “Yeah. Always. Why are you asking?”

  “No reason.” I was not going to be that silly woman who questioned her man about everything he did, and everyone he talked to. I had no reason to believe our relationship wasn’t wonderful. I trusted him. So what if he and some mysterious redheaded woman showed up all around town?

  We turned around at the end of the street and retraced our steps. “You want to come in for some ice cream?” I’d eaten all the cannoli flavor, next in line was pistachio.

  “Thanks, babe. I’d love to, but I’ve got an errand to run. Another time?”

  “Sure. It’s not going anywhere.” Although, since I was going to be alone with it, it might be gone by the morning.

  “You mind taking the dogs up with you?” We came to a stop at his truck and he handed me the leashes.

  “No, of course not.”

  He gave me a quick kiss. “Love you. We’ll talk later, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  I watched him drive away feeling a little mopey and sad. At least I had Beau and Noelle for company. Nope. I wasn’t going to be that woman.

  ###

  The next morning Alex texted me at the crack of dawn to say that Rachael Rydell’s husband, and his assistant, Markus Huntley, had arrived late last night. He also had Sharon Elliott’s information.

  I’ll contact her soon, I texted.

  Sounds good. I’m guessing you want to be here when I talk to Jardine?

  Yes, please. Thanks for asking. What time?

  2 hours? Come to the station.

  I’ll be there. I need to eat something and take care of the dogs, first. See ya!

  Lucas Jardine and his assistant arrived at the police station a half an hour after I did. He was about Senator Rydell’s age, which put him at about thirty-four or so.

  “Thank you for coming. My condolences to you and your family,” said Alex in the way of a greeting. “Please, have a seat. This is Molly Tyler.”

  “Please accept my condolences as well,” I told him.

  He gave me a brief nod, or maybe his head just twitched, and turned his attention back to Alex. “Where are you so far?”

  Alex leaned back in his chair. “We’ve interviewed Robert Meara, the man who stalked your wife. And Charlotte Swain, the—”

  Lucas waved a dismissing hand at him. “I know. She’s the crazy woman who’s w
riting the book. You think maybe one of them killed my wife and her sister?”

  “Our investigation is ongoing,” Alex replied.

  Markus snorted. “So basically, you’ve got nothing. Why are you wasting Mr. Jardine’s time? He wants to bury his wife. He’s having a hard time.”

  I glanced over at Lucas. He didn’t look like he was having a hard time at all. He looked quite bored and annoyed with this whole thing. “I hardly think trying to find his wife’s killer is a waste of time,” I answered with more snark than I intended. But honestly, what a thing to say. Alex shot me a warning glance. I mentally zipped my lips.

  “We’re still sorting through things,” Alex told Jardine. “Do you have any idea who might have killed both women?”

  “None,” replied Jardine. “That’s your job.”

  “Friends, associates, ex-lovers that might want her out of the way?” Alex went on.

  “I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt, much less kill, Rachael.”

  “Your wife was angry when you were indicted for racketeering conspiracy, money laundering, fraud and tax offenses,” Alex continued. “She reported your activity to the FBI, did she not? Maybe you wanted her out of the way. I’d say that’s reason to have her killed.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t kill my wife.”

  “You could have hired someone to do it,” I suggested. Rocco came to mind, but I didn’t want to go down that ugly road.

  He smiled, but there was an unattractive, hard glint in his eyes. “I could have, but I didn’t. And you have no proof. You’re on a fishing expedition.”

  “Did you have an affair with Melanie Stewart?” I plowed on. Alex didn’t object.

  “This is ridiculous!” Markus interjected. “You’ve got nothing on him. Why aren’t you out trying to find out who killed his wife instead of insinuating that he did it?”

  “It’s okay, Markus,” said Jardine, holding a hand up to his assistant. The muscle in his jaw jumped before he addressed my question. “Yes. But it was a long time ago. We’ve all moved on. That has absolutely nothing to do with my wife’s, or her sister’s, murder.”

  Alex stared at Lucas while leaning casually back in his chair. “Where were you on June 24th? You didn’t accompany your wife to the reunion.”

  Lucas stared at Alex with cold, reptilian eyes. “She was only going to be here overnight. We decided it wasn’t necessary. I was home, with my children. Check with them if you like.”

  Alex didn’t flinch under Lucas’ glare. “That’s all for now. If I have further questions, we’ll let you know. If you can think of anyone who may have wanted to hurt your wife, or her twin, call us.”

  “Rachael wasn’t all that close to Melanie. I have no idea who would want to hurt, never mind kill, both women. If you don’t find the killer soon, I’ll bring in my own team,” Jardine all but snarled. “They’ll tear you to shreds. When will Rachel’s body be released? I have a funeral to plan.”

  “We’ll call as soon as the autopsy is complete,” Alex told him.

  “Thank you,” he managed.

  “If you have anything else, contact Mr. Jardine’s attorney,” Markus said.

  He seemed more on edge than Lucas did. What was he so angry about? “Where were you on June twenty-fourth, Mr. Huntley?” I found myself asking.

  His brows shot up in surprise, and his lips formed an ugly sneer. “Where was I? You think I killed Mrs. Rydell and her sister?” He laughed a little too heartily. “That’s absurd. I’ve known Lucas since we were boys. I wouldn’t harm anyone he’s involved with. Good heavens, couldn’t the women have been killed in a town with a competent police department?”

  “Let’s go, Markus,” Lucas took his arm. “Call me the second my wife’s body is released.”

  The door slammed behind them. Alex and I watched through the window in his office as the men made their way to the car they’d arrived in. Must be a rental. I didn’t take Lucas Jardine for a small, bare-bones, SUV man. They stopped after a few steps there and seemed to be in animated conversation. Arms waving and mouths moving. I walked to the window and eased it open an inch. The men didn’t notice.

  “I can’t believe they would think I killed Melanie. Or Rachael,” growled Markus.

  “Good thing you didn’t tell them about your affair with Rachael.”

  “Come on, Lucas, that was a million years ago. I’ve apologized six ways from Sunday. Is this always going to be between us? If it is, I’ll just quit right now.”

  Lucas slung an arm around Markus’ shoulder. “You’re not quitting. I need you. I know you didn’t kill her. Or Melanie. But if they found out you and Rachael had an affair, who knows what conclusion the buffoons would come to. They’d find a way to pin it on you.”

  I couldn’t believe these guys were having this conversation within feet of us. Talk about buffoons!

  “You didn’t have anything to do with it, did you Lucas?” asked Markus.

  Was that a tremor in Markus’ voice? I wondered. Did he have reason to think Lucas had killed the women?

  “Shut up. Let’s get in the car,” Lucas ordered. In a few seconds, they were driving away from the police department.

  I turned to Alex. “Well, that was interesting.”

  “Let’s add Markus to the list,” he said.

  “Motive?” I asked.

  “Markus is in love with Rachael, but she wants nothing to do with him.”

  I thought about it. “So, he kills her so Lucas can’t have her, either?”

  “Did he even want her I wonder?” Alex moved back to his desk. “I confess it’s a weak motive.”

  “And he killed Melanie because . . .?”

  “Sorry, I’ve got nothing,” he admitted.

  “We’ll come back to Markus and Lucas. Do you want to me to call Sharon Elliott?” I asked.

  “Sounds good. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. She lives close by. I’ll take a drive and talk to her,” I offered.

  “Lucas didn’t seem too broken up about his wife’s death, did he?” Alex asked, not commenting on my idea to go visit Sharon.

  “I was thinking the same thing. Is he our killer?”

  “He didn’t exactly deny it when Markus asked him. I’ll check the airlines. See if he showed up and we missed it. Markus, too.”

  “Good luck!”

  “Thanks, Molly.” Alex leaned back in his chair and echoed my thoughts. “Who do we have so far?”

  “I mentally just added Markus, so we’ve got Robert Meara; Charlotte Swain; Lucas Jardine; Piero Di Giovanni; Rocco Mastrostefano; Markus Huntley; and Sharon Elliott. See, that’s not a bad list.”

  “Why don’t you go ahead and call Sharon.”

  “I’ll call her now.”

  CHAPTER 16

  * * *

  Sharon lived in a town called Northrup.

  “I’m heading out,” I told Alex. “She was very amenable to seeing me in case you couldn’t tell from my end of the conversation.”

  “I’m going with you. We’ll take one of the PD’s SUVs.”

  “Does it have a sunroof?”

  He gave me a full smile. “Sorry, no sunroof, but it has a nifty siren. And no, you can’t play with it.”

  “Was it possible that there were two killers?” I asked him as we merged onto the interstate. I kind of had to shout since I’d convinced him to drive with all four windows open. I have a thing for fresh air. “Maybe they coordinated with each other. I’m just thinking out loud. If it was one, it was someone who had a problem with both women. And knew their schedules. But who?”

  “Sometimes, investigations take time, Molly. Police learn to pack some patience. I worked a homicide in Buffalo that took three years to solve.”

  “I hope this one doesn’t take that long,” I replied.

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  We arrived at Sharon’s house an hour and a half later. She lived in a small one-floor ranch style home. She had a narrow driveway that already
had a car in it, so we parked our battleship on the street. Her home looked well cared for, but even murderers can be neat, I told myself.

  Alex rang the doorbell and two seconds later it was opened by a slender brunette with a dishtowel in her hand. She looked vaguely familiar. She smiled at us warmly, without a hint of annoyance. “Hi. You must be Molly Tyler.” She looked up at Alex with a question mark in her eyes.

  “Detective Alex Britton, ma’am,” he introduced himself.

  “Nice to meet you. Come on in, both of you.”

  “Thanks for letting us come over on such short notice,” Alex told her.

  She gestured to the couch. “No problem. Sit, please. You got me at a good time. Kids are in school, the husband’s at work, everything’s quiet for the next few hours.” She turned toward me. “You said this is about those murders, right? Rachael and Melanie.”

  “Yes,” Alex replied. “They were both murdered the night of the Mellon School for Girls reunion. Rachael at the Castle Shore Hotel, and Melanie at a house she rented on Destiny Lake.”

  “It’s been on the news every day. It’s just now dwindling. I guess because there aren’t any suspects. Or are there?”