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Craving Vengeance

Page 6

by Valerie J. Clarizio


  “What’s the matter?” Walker asked.

  “She’s not answering.”

  “Could be by design.”

  “That’s not funny. I expect that kind of comment from Marsh. Not you,” Spinelli snapped.

  Walker flashed his eyes in Spinelli’s direction. “It wasn’t meant to be funny. I was just trying to say that maybe she’s busy, and everything is okay.”

  “Oh.”

  Within minutes Walker had parked the unmarked in the church’s parking lot. A single exterior light shined above the side door facing the street. They sprang out of the car and rushed to that door assuming it would be unlocked. They were right. Just inside the doorway was a lit stairwell leading to the basement. Following the scent of roses, they raced down the stairs to find the priest and a couple of what he assumed to be “Sisters” indulging in some Valentine’s Day chocolates. It was much easier to identify nuns in the old days when they wore habits.

  Spinelli flashed his badge and introduced himself and Walker. Wide smiles instantaneously stretched across the faces of the priest and women. “So, you’re Shannon’s beau,” one of the ladies commented as she kept an inquisitive eye on him. “I’m Sister Pat,” then she gestured toward the other woman and the priest. “This is Sister Lora and Father Daniel.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. They all looked so pleased; little did they know. “Yes, ma’am I am Shannon’s boyfriend. Do you know where I can find her right now?”

  Sister Pat lifted the reading glasses that hung by a chain around her neck and perched them on the end of her nose before she picked up the clipboard that lay on the table in front of her. “Oh, dear, they all had so many deliveries scheduled, and that poor girl has to do hers by herself since her partner didn’t show up. We can try her cell phone to find out where she’s at.”

  “She’s by herself?”

  Sister Pat fixed her soothing blue-eyed gaze on him, obviously picking up on his discontent. “Yes, we didn’t have anyone else to send with her when she left. Father Daniel and Sister Lora just got back from their deliveries, and I was the only one left here to man the fort. Because she was alone, we sent her on the downtown business deliveries. You know, to the ladies and gentleman who are working tonight. The majority of them are working at stores or restaurants,” Sister Pat paused and smiled. “People just love to surprise their loved ones at work.”

  Spinelli worked to get his voice in check. He knew he needed to get it together. “Can you tell me who she was supposed to work with tonight?”

  “Joshua Meyers, but he didn’t show up. That’s so unlike him. I hope nothing happened to him.”

  Walker shot Spinelli a sideways glance. He knew what he needed to do. He didn’t like it one bit, but he knew.

  Spinelli shifted his gaze to Father Daniel. “Father, were you dressed like cupid earlier?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I borrow your costume?”

  Father hesitated for a moment. He must have read the concerned look in Spinelli’s eyes. “Sure.” He glanced toward Sister Pat. “Why don’t you call Shannon and see if you can locate her. Maybe Mr. Spinelli can catch up with her and help her finish with her deliveries.”

  Sister Pat nodded and picked up the phone receiver. Spinelli leaned toward her. “I’d like to surprise her if I could.”

  She nodded before her call connected. “Hi, Shannon. This is Sister Pat. We received two more delivery requests in your area. Do you think you could take them on and still finish by 8:00 or so?...Uh huh...oh no, dear, we’ll have someone meet you at your next stop with the names, addresses, flowers, and candy. Where is your next stop and when do you think you’ll be there?...Okay, got it.”

  Sister Pat hung up the phone receiver and fixed her gaze on Spinelli. “She’s working North Water Street right now, and she’s just about to stop at a client’s, so that will take some time. Her next stop is at Billy’s BBQ. She’s delivering to a waitress there. She’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

  “Okay, we’ll meet her there. Sister, do your delivery teams check in with you through the course of the night or do they just make all their deliveries and check back with you when they’re done.”

  “Unless there is some sort of issue, we don’t hear from them.”

  “How many teams do you have working tonight?” Spinelli asked as he wondered how many more potential dead cupid candidates there were out on the loose.

  “There were twelve delivery teams counting Shannon’s.”

  Shannon was working alone, and Father Daniel was back already, so that only left ten of their cupids, plus now himself, roaming the streets.

  Father handed Spinelli his cupid costume. It hung from a hanger, wings, and all.

  Spinelli stared at his ridiculous reflection in the bathroom mirror. He couldn’t help but wonder how he came to be here; in a church of all places, wearing a white toga. He slipped his arms through the wing straps. He shook his head. He must be crazy.

  His mind drifted to thoughts of Shannon. Two months ago she had him parading around as Santa Claus, and now here he stood, dressed as the god of love, or desire, depending upon whose perspective you’re using. He looked down at the bow and quiver of golden arrows leaning against the wall. Golden arrows. True love. Yeah, right. Maybe I should be a womanizer like Marsh and carry lead arrows for erotic love. Obtaining that is more realistic! He thought that maybe he should pinch himself. Perhaps this was just a nightmare. No such luck. He grabbed the bow and quiver and headed out of the restroom.

  The second he stepped out of the bathroom he caught Walker’s amused gaze. If the circumstances were different and they weren’t chasing after a killer, Spinelli was sure Walker would have met him with full-blown laughter.

  Sister Pat handed Walker two bouquets of roses, two heart shaped boxes of candy, and a piece of paper containing the addresses of the additional deliveries they needed to make. She studied Spinelli with a look of amusement in her eyes. “Well, you should be all set. Shannon will be waiting for you.”

  Chapter Nine

  Walker parked the police car a few stalls up and on the opposite side of the street from Billy’s BBQ. They waited for Shannon to arrive. She pulled up in her blue Chevy Impala within a few minutes and parked in front of the restaurant.

  Spinelli flung his car door open and attempted to slide out, but his wing got tangled up with the seatbelt and jerked him back into the seat. He fumbled with the shoulder strap and wing. “Damn it,” he growled. His patience was shot.

  By the time he finally freed himself, Shannon was standing at his side. The look on her face was unmistakable. She was pissed. He supposed she was upset because of how he treated her earlier in the office. A tinge of guilt rippled through him but was quickly pushed aside by hurt and anger as memories of why he treated her poorly in the first place flashed through his mind. The infamous Dr. Joshua Meyers. The now dead Dr. Meyers.

  Spinelli met her gaze. The intense look in her eyes pinned him to the car as if he were a humongous magnet. Her nostrils flared. He was glad her hands were full of flowers and candy. He feared she might smack him if they were free. She unclenched her jaw. “What are you doing here, and why are you dressed as cupid?”

  “I...I’m here to help you with your deliveries,” Spinelli stammered. She had a way of making him falter when they’d first met, back when he wasn’t on her ‘favorite’ person list, but he thought he’d gotten beyond that. The lead weight on his tongue told him otherwise.

  “Why?”

  Because your secret lover has been murdered, and you’re a suspect. “I want to spend some time with you on Valentine’s Day.”

  Shannon bent over and looked around Spinelli. Her eyes seemed to soften. “Hi, Brad.”

  “Hi, Shannon,” Walker replied from the driver’s seat.

  “Work pulled you away from your Valentine’s Day plans as well, I take it?”

  Walker nodded. “Well, you know how it is.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sure Jeana
understands.”

  “You know, Shannon, if you take this ornery cuss off my hands, I might still be able to resurrect some of the evening with Jeana.”

  Shannon shot Spinelli a sideways glare then glanced back at Walker. “For you, Brad, I’ll do it, but only for you,” she reiterated as she shifted her icy cold glare back to Spinelli.

  Spinelli leaned into the backseat and grabbed the flowers and candy Sister Pat had given him for the extra deliveries. He slid them into Shannon’s car. He watched as Walker pulled away from the curb. He knew Walker wasn’t going too far, just out of Shannon’s view. He’d be listening on his earpiece.

  Shannon nodded toward Billy’s BBQ, though she didn’t have to. A blind man could have found his way just by following the wonderful aroma of deep fried food. The smell made Spinelli’s mouth water. His stomach growled. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything all day. He’d been called out of bed early by Captain Jackson to attend to the murder of Mike Carter, their first cupid. Then when he went to ask Shannon out for lunch, he caught her kissing Dr. Meyers, and before he could even return to the precinct he’d gotten the call to investigate the murder Chad Williams, the third cupid. And now instead of sitting down to dinner, he found himself delivering flowers and candy to starry-eyed victims of love.

  “We’re delivering to a waitress by the name of Stacey Hicks. What are you going to sing to her?” Shannon asked.

  “What?”

  “That’s what I’m asking you. What are you going to sing to her? You’re cupid. It’s your job.”

  The shrillness in her voice sent a shiver up his spine. It was going to be a long couple of hours. Evidently he hadn’t thought this whole cupid thing all the way through. He couldn’t sing, and he certainly didn’t know any cutesy love songs. And even if he did know any, he certainly wasn’t in the mood to sing to any poor love-struck saps.

  He could tell by the look in her eyes she was serious, and she’d make his life even more miserable if he didn’t do it. Additionally, she didn’t think he could do it. He’d show her. He thought for a moment. There must be some half-assed love song he could sing. All that came to mind was Adam Sandler singing the song “Love Stinks” in the movie The Wedding Singer. That certainly wasn’t going to work.

  His mouth went dry. Sweat beaded on his temples. Christ almighty, its twenty-five degrees outside, and I’m sweating. Freaking women. I didn’t sign up for this!

  It took a moment, but a song came to him. He’d heard on a car commercial some time ago.

  Spinelli gestured toward the front door of the restaurant. “After you, my dear.”

  Shannon stomped off toward the door. If her heels hit the pavement any harder, they’d crack the sidewalk. She pushed through the door letting it fall shut behind her. Spinelli grabbed the handle and passed through as well.

  All heads turned toward them. He felt like such an idiot; dressed in a white toga, holding a fake gold colored bow, almost child sized, with a quiver full of golden arrows slung over his shoulder. People smiled in their direction. Spinelli fought the urge to roll his eyes. Fools, blinded by the hype of the holiday.

  He listened as Shannon spoke with the hostess. Her voice was soft and sweet. He remembered when she talked to him like that. It was just this morning. All a front. A big fat lie.

  The hostess motioned to a waitress, catching her attention almost immediately. Her nametag said Stacey. The hostess waved her over. All eyes followed the young woman who stepped in their direction with a degree of hesitation. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  Shannon smiled softly at her. “Dustin sent us,” she said as she reached over and took the bouquet of roses from Spinelli and handed them to Stacey. Spinelli still held the heart shaped box of chocolates in his hand. He didn’t want to let them go. He needed something to occupy his shaky fingers. He glanced around the room. All eyes were still on them. His heart thudded in his chest.

  Shannon stepped back. Her smile grew wider. She gestured toward Spinelli. “Dustin also sent a message for you from Cupid.”

  Spinelli’s cheeks burned. His pulse pounded. Maybe his head would explode, and he’d get out of this awful mess. His mind raced to place the words of the song from the car commercial into order. It was a Nissan commercial. No, it was Honda. For crissake sake, who in the hell cares what kind of commercial it was? Just sing the stupid song already. All eyes were still on him. He cleared his throat and broke out into a rendition of “You Are My Sunshine.”

  He kept his eyes on Stacey as he sang the short verse and swayed back and forth with both his shaky hands fixed to the box of chocolates. It was almost as if he was dancing with the box. A bright shade of red consumed her cheeks. Was he that bad? Her lips quivered but eventually broke into a full smile.

  When he finished his song and dance, he handed her the chocolates as the crowd applauded.

  Spinelli shifted his gaze to Shannon. She seemed surprised. She smiled and clapped as well. He imagined Walker listening to the whole ordeal though his earpiece. He imagined he’d never hear the end of it once the entire precinct found out. He took a bow, spun on his heel, and headed out the door.

  He didn’t have to turn around to know Shannon followed close behind him. The sound of her heels pounding against the cement assured him. Her steps didn’t sound as heavy as when they first went into the restaurant. Maybe she was lightening up a bit. Wait a minute, why did he care if she was still mad? He was the one who was supposed to be pissed as hell. She’s so damn beautiful, he’d almost forgotten.

  Spinelli stomped toward Shannon’s car without looking back at her. The automatic locks clicked, and he slid into the passenger seat. He didn’t even attempt to open her door for her, even though he always opened her door. Shannon slid into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine. Without a word she shifted the car into drive and pulled into traffic. Spinelli checked the side mirror. Walker followed close behind.

  Shannon plucked the clipboard from between the seats and handed it to him. He glanced at the list of deliveries. The next one was only four blocks away. He read the name aloud, “Bernard Mathison.” A guy? How in the hell was he going to keep a straight face singing a love song to a guy?

  “Yep, his wife calls him Bernie.” He shot Shannon a sideways glance. The corner of her mouth twitched as if she were trying to suppress an unstoppable smile. He was sure she was enjoying his severe discomfort.

  Shannon parked the car on the same side of the street as Bernie’s bar. Spinelli’s mind raced for a song. He couldn’t possibly sing “You Are My Sunshine” to a guy. It just wouldn’t be right, and the only song filtering through his brain at present was Bon Jovi’s “You Give Love a Bad Name.” So not appropriate. True maybe, but not appropriate.

  Spinelli climbed out of the car and took the box of chocolates from Shannon. He needed something to occupy his hands. Shannon pushed her way through the large glass door and stepped into Bernie’s bar. The room was long and narrow. All heads turned in their direction as the bells on the door clinked. Nearly every barstool was occupied at the old worn wooden bar, which ran almost the entire length of the room. A few patrons sat at the small tables lining the opposite wall of the bar. The middle of the room was home to two pool tables, neither being used at the moment.

  Shannon stepped toward the opening at the end of the bar. She handed the bartender the bouquet of roses and leaned toward the large burly man and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled and winked at her. His bright blue eyes twinkled. His curly red hair matched Shannon’s. Who was this guy, and how did she know him?

  “Hi, Uncle Bernie.”

  “Hi, sweetie. I see your Aunt Maggie is up to her little games again,” he said as he shifted his gaze from Shannon to Spinelli and looked him over.

  Her uncle, other than the bright red hair, looked nothing like her or any of her immediate family whom he’d only seen in pictures.

  Shannon motioned to him, and he stepped closer to them. All eyes still on him. The scent of stale cigars and beer pe
netrated his nostrils.

  “Well, son, what delightful song has my darling picked out for me this year?”

  He could see the snickers down the bar. This lumberjack was really going to make him sing to him. Shannon’s challenging gaze was just the incentive he needed. He eyed Bernie. He looked like he might have a sense of humor. Spinelli cleared his throat and broke out into a loud rendition of Bon Jovi’s “You Give Love a Bad Name.” He was loud, animated, short and sweet about it, and when he finished chuckles broke out down the bar.

  “Sounds like Maggie’s got your number, Bernie,” someone yelled from several stools down. More laughter followed. Bernie laughed as well.

  “You kids got time for a lightning fast one?”

  Shannon shook her head. “We can’t stay. We have a few more deliveries.”

  He stepped forward and gave Shannon a hug then he reached over and extended his hand to Spinelli. “Nicely done, son, but a bit of advice. Don’t quit your day job.” Bernie roared with laughter. Shannon’s sweet giggle echoed in Spinelli’s ears as well.

  She gestured toward him. “Uncle Bernie, this is Nick Spinelli.”

  Bernie’s smile widened. “So you’re the young lad who’s captured the heart of our little Shannon.”

  Out of the corner of his eye he could see Shannon’s cheeks turn as red as her dress.

  Bernie obviously didn’t have a clue about his dear little Shannon.

  “I can’t believe you kids are running around dressed like you are tonight with all that’s gone on today,” Bernie whispered as he leaned toward Spinelli. “Are you undercover again, just like you were with the Santa and Elf case at Christmas?”

  Spinelli looked beyond Bernie. His clientele seemed to have gone about their business and paid no attention to Bernie’s question. He could feel Shannon’s sharp gaze burning a hole through him. How was he going to explain this and the fact her fiancé was dead, and she was a suspect? Guilt consumed him. He hadn’t decided when he was going to tell her about Dr. Joshua, but it looked as though the time was drawing near.

 

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