by Jessica Beck
“That doesn’t sound like George, letting this guy just roll over us like that,” Grace said.
“Whether we like it or not, I have to grudgingly admit that he’s got a point.”
“Chief Tyler?” Grace asked me incredulously.
“No, of course not. I’m talking about George. He hired this man to run the department, so he can’t very well dictate terms to him.”
“So then we’re just giving up?” Grace asked as she stared hard at me.
“Not on your life. We have two more suspects to speak with, and until tomorrow morning, we can do whatever we choose to without asking anyone for permission.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Grace asked as she jumped up. “Let’s get cracking.”
“What did you uncover about Amanda and Denny?” I asked as I joined her at my Jeep.
“Apparently Amanda works at an auto repair shop in Union Square.”
“She’s a mechanic?” I asked her, startled by the thought of it.
“No, not that there would be anything wrong with it if she were.”
“Of course not. What does she do there, then?”
“She’s the office manager,” Grace said, and then she frowned slightly. “In all honesty, I don’t know who actually owns the place. There are some shell companies holding the incorporation papers, but I couldn’t figure out where they ultimately led.”
“Maybe we’ll ask her when we see her,” I suggested.
“We can always try, but I doubt that she’ll tell us, not after someone went to so much trouble to hide the fact on paper.”
“How about Denny?” I asked.
“I found out that he lives in Union Square, too, but I still can’t figure out what he does for a living. From what I’ve been able to gather, he makes his money in the shadows, much like Rick Hastings did.”
“How have these men been able to make a living?”
“From what I’ve been able to gather, it’s mostly been from extortion, gambling, and other shady activities,” Grace said.
“Boy, Emma sure knows how to pick them, doesn’t she?”
“Don’t be too hard on her. At least she has her youth as an excuse. I’ve dated more than my share of bad men in the past, and what’s more, I’m old enough to know better.”
I knew that Grace had endured a string of bad boyfriends over the years, but I wasn’t about to find fault with her. She’d always followed her heart instead of her head, even though it had led her down more than her share of dead ends in the past. “You’ve found a good guy now though, haven’t you?”
“I have indeed,” she said.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?”
Grace just smiled. “Would it matter if I said yes?”
“Not too much, but you can always feel free to ignore the question.”
“Go on, then,” she said.
I had to word this just so, but it was something that I’d been wondering about ever since my best friend had started dating the young cop. “Do you ever get bored with the fact that Stephen Grant is a good guy with no real drama in his life?”
Grace laughed. “Are you kidding? He’s a breath of fresh air. I don’t know why people say that nice guys finish last. I never fully appreciated how lovely it could be to have someone in my life who actually puts my needs ahead of his own. I wouldn’t trade him for a thousand bad boys, and that’s the truth.”
“Good for you,” I said.
“You should be proud, Suzanne. After all, I’m just following your example.”
What a curious thing to say. “How so?”
“You went from Max, a born womanizer with very few redeeming qualities, to a state police inspector. That’s a pretty dramatic shift you’ve gone through yourself.”
“Max was never that bad, even at his worst,” I said, defending my ex for some odd reason.
“Come on. He cheated on you, Suzanne, or have you forgotten about that?”
“You don’t have to remind me, but he’s changed, Grace. You’ve seen him with Emily. It’s clear that man adores her, and he’d never do anything to hurt her.”
“Actually, I’ve been wondering something myself, since we’re having a frank chat. How does that make you feel?” Grace asked as we got into the Jeep and started the drive toward Union Square.
“I’m happy for both of them,” I said, keeping my gaze directed to the road ahead of us.
“Are you saying that you’re not the least little bit jealous?”
“Of them? No, that thought never crossed my mind.”
“That’s because you’re a better person than I am,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Suzanne, if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from wondering what Emily had that I didn’t.”
“I don’t look at it that way at all, Grace. Just because Max and I couldn’t make it work doesn’t mean that he and Emily shouldn’t be able to. They are two completely different situations.”
“My, aren’t we all grown up?” Grace asked me with a grin.
“Maybe it helps that I’m going to marry Jake,” I admitted.
“Whenever that happens,” she replied.
“Hey, I’m still getting used to being the man’s fiancée. There’s no rush making me his wife. At the moment, just knowing that he wants to spend the rest of his life with me is enough.”
“I get it,” she said as we pulled into the city limits of Union Square.
It was time to get going. We were on an accelerated time schedule now, so there was not really a moment to waste in conducting our investigation.
Chapter 9
“So, who should we tackle first?” I asked Grace.
“Well, at least we know where Amanda is supposed to be,” she said. “Her repair shop is just two blocks away from Napoli’s. Should we pop in on the DeAngelis crowd while we’re here?”
“Maybe later,” I said. “Remember, we don’t have a great deal of time left before we’re under the new chief’s thumb.”
“I’m just saying, we’re right here,” Grace answered with a smile. “It would be hard to pass up a chance for some wonderful Italian food.”
We pulled up in front of the auto repair shop, and I asked, “How should we handle this?”
“We could always say that your Jeep needs some work,” Grace replied a little too quickly for my taste as we got out of the vehicle. “That should be easy enough for her to believe.”
“What’s wrong with my Jeep?”
“Hey, don’t be so defensive. I’m just saying that it might be a good way to break the ice with Amanda. I didn’t mean to disparage your mode of transportation.”
I thought about it and realized that Grace might have a point. After all, my Jeep had seen better days, though thinking that way made me feel a little disloyal. “What should we say is wrong with her?”
“I would think that you’d be able to choose from a variety of ailments,” Grace replied.
“Okay, I get it. I’ll think of something.”
I never got the chance to come up with a cover story, though.
Apparently Amanda already knew all about us, if she was the one striding purposely toward us. “What are you two doing here?” the woman in her early thirties asked as she reached us. “Did you come by my shop to try to pin something on me?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I told her, caught off-guard for a moment by her confrontational style.
“Spare me. You can drop the innocent act. I’ve heard enough about you both to know that you’re here snooping into something. It’s Rick’s murder, isn’t it?”
“Is there something wrong with us trying to find out who killed the man?” Grace asked her, matching Amanda’s tone with equal force. This was turning into a battle before we’d even begun.
“I have an idea. Why don’t you let the police do their job?” she asked, clearly disapproving of our efforts to unmask a killer.
; “We are,” I said, trying my best to adopt a more civil tone of voice, “but that doesn’t mean that we can’t help out a little. You knew Rick fairly well, didn’t you?”
“Who told you that?” she asked me with a frown.
“You have your sources, and we have ours,” Grace said smugly before I could reply.
Amanda snorted a little upon hearing that. “Don’t bother trying to cover it up. It was that teenybopper of a girlfriend of his, wasn’t it?”
“Emma’s in her twenties,” I said, unsure why it was so important to rush to her defense about her age. “She’s hardly a teenybopper.”
“She doesn’t miss it by much though, does she?” Amanda asked, scoffing.
“Emma might be young, but she was still a threat to you and your feelings toward Rick, wasn’t she?” Grace asked her.
Amanda laughed, but it had a hollow ring to it. “A threat? Her? You’re delusional.”
“You were in love with Rick, weren’t you?” Grace asked. “I can see it in your eyes.”
Amanda frowned, and I had to wonder if Grace had hit an exposed nerve. “That’s really none of your business.”
“You can talk to us,” I said sympathetically, trying to get the woman to confide in us. I wasn’t sure if it could work, but it was worth trying, since we didn’t have any real leverage that we could apply. There was no way that we could make her tell us the truth.
It appeared that she was considering it, but then she changed her mind. “You know what? You two aren’t as big a threat as I was told you might be. Move along. I’m finished talking to you.”
She headed back into the shop, with Grace and me close on her heels.
“Who exactly have you been talking to about us?” I asked her.
Amanda stopped after another step and turned to face us. “On the other side of that door are two men who owe their livelihoods to me. Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to get on their bad sides. When I say I’m finished talking to you, that’s exactly what I mean. Do you understand, or are you going to need a little proof?”
“That’s fine. We get it,” I said, holding my hands up in the air in surrender.
“Good,” she said.
At least Grace was staying quiet, something that I was eternally grateful for.
“It was probably just an empty threat,” my best friend said once Amanda was back inside on the other side of that door.
“Did you really want to find out one way or the other?” I asked her. “At least this way, we live to fight another day.”
“So, we’re just giving up on her?” Grace asked, clearly unhappy about that possibility. “She had feelings for Rick, at least that much was clear from her reactions.”
“I think so, too, but for now, we need to give her a little time to think about our conversation. The next time that we speak with her, we’re going to have to pursue a different line of questioning. In the meantime, we have one more suspect on our list.”
“But we don’t even know where Denny West is,” she protested.
“Maybe not, but we’re not without resources ourselves when it comes to Union Square.”
“We’re going to Napoli’s?” Grace asked.
“We are, unless you have any objections.”
“Not on your life,” she said.
“Then let’s go see what Angelica and her daughters might know that we don’t.”
“Girls! So good to see you,” Angelica DeAngelis said as we walked into Napoli’s. It always amazed me to see her Italian décor smack dab in the middle of a strip mall. “I trust you are both hungry.”
“I could eat,” Grace said cheerfully beside me.
“But that’s not the main reason that we’re here,” I said. “We were hoping to have a chat with you about someone in town.”
“I’d be happy to, but why not do both, eat and talk?” she asked with a grin. She was an older woman, but her beauty was classic, and it was easy to see where her daughters had all gotten their good looks. “Maria is working the front, but I told her that I would cover for her for a few minutes, so it shouldn’t be long. As a matter of fact, here she is now.”
A younger version of Angelica came out, and when Maria smiled at us, I immediately felt the intensity of her beauty. “Grace, Suzanne, welcome. Would you like a table for two, or will your young men be joining you this afternoon?”
“It’s just the two of them,” Angelica said as she gently pushed the menus Maria was offering back to her. “No need to fuss with those. They’re coming back to the kitchen with me.”
“That’s no fair. You get to have all of the fun,” Maria said with a smile as Grace and I followed her mother back into the heart of Napoli’s. The youngest daughter, Sophia, was frowning over a skillet full of veggies crackling away on the stovetop.
“Turn down the heat a little,” Angelica reminded her gently as she reached for the burner’s control. “You’re looking for crisp, not scorched.”
“It’s a fine line, though, isn’t it?” Sophia asked. “Hey, ladies. What’s up?”
“Pay attention to what you’re doing,” Angelica softly scolded her daughter.
“Yes, ma’am,” Sophia answered with a slight smile, and then, when her mother’s head was turned away, she winked at me.
“What can I get you to start?” Angelica asked as we each took a seat at the small table she kept in back.
“Information,” I said.
“And some pasta,” Grace chimed in.
“Grace,” I chided her.
“It’s fine, Suzanne,” Angelica said as she dished us up two plates of pasta and added a simple sauce to each. As she placed the plates in front of us, she asked, “Now, what can I tell you?”
“Do you happen to know a man named Denny West?” I asked her just before taking my first bite. It was pure bliss on a fork, and I quickly followed up my first taste with another.
Angelica’s face clouded a bit. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told each and every one of my daughters. I don’t approve of you knowing him. He’s not a good man.”
Sophia glanced over at me, frowned, and then she quickly looked back at the skillet in her care. Did she know something she wasn’t sharing? As hard as it was to believe, that’s how it felt to me, and it might be worthwhile asking her once her mother was gone.
“We’re not socializing with him, Angelica,” I said. “He’s a suspect in a murder we’re investigating.”
“Who was killed?” she asked, the concern clear in her expression.
“A man named Rick Hastings,” I said.
She frowned again. “I know of him. He’s a friend of Denny West’s,” she said.
“Well, my assistant, Emma Blake, was dating him, against my recommendation, I might add.”
Angelica’s face softened. “What is it about bad boys that some women find so attractive?”
“My momma used to say that girls dated bad boys, but women were interested in the nice guys,” I answered.
“She’s a wise woman herself,” Angelica said. “How is she, by the way?”
“She’s fine.”
“Is married life treating her well?”
I smiled. “To tell the truth, I haven’t seen her this happy in years,” I admitted.
“That’s good.”
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to date again, Angelica. You shouldn’t let a few bad experiences turn you off on the idea of having someone in your life,” Grace said.
Before Angelica could answer, Sophia chimed in. “I’ve been telling her the same thing for years, but does she listen to me? I don’t think so.”
“If I need your advice, you’ll be the first to know, young lady,” Angelica told her daughter, softening it with a gentle pat on her cheek, and then she reached over and turned off the burner. “There. That looks good.”
“It should be. It took me long enough to perfect it,” Sophia said.
Angelica just laughed. “How sweet that you think you’ve mastered it,
Sophia. Make that dish perfectly ten times in a row with no variations, and then we’ll talk.”
Turning back to me, Angelica said, “I understand why you’re looking into this, but be careful. Denny West is a bad man.”
After Grace finished another bite, she asked, “Where might we find him?”
Angelica frowned, and then she said, “He frequents a place on the edge of town. It’s a bit run-down, so I’m glad that you’re together.”
“What’s it called?” I asked.
“Murphy’s,” she said, and then she glanced at the clock behind her. “If you go now, you should be fine, but don’t go there after dark. Promise me that much.”
“We promise,” I said as I pushed my plate away. “Thanks for the meal.”
“Do you call that a meal? It’s just a bite.”
“What do we owe you?” I asked her, expecting resistance. She had a hard enough time presenting us a bill when we ate in the dining room, but when were in the kitchen, we were treated like family.
“Just your continued friendship,” Angelica said.
“You have that without bribing us with food,” I replied with a grin.
“But it doesn’t hurt,” Grace added with a smile of her own.
Maria chose that moment to come into the kitchen. “Momma, one of our customers wants to talk to you out front.”
“Is it to complain?” Angelica asked, her features narrowing.
“More like to gush,” Maria admitted. “She’s dying to meet the woman who made her pasta primavera. She said that it beat anything she ever had the entire time that she lived in New York.”
“I don’t doubt it for one moment,” Angelica said, beaming. She was justifiably proud of her food, and she took every opportunity to enjoy praise about it. “Will you ladies excuse me?”
“Of course. Thanks again for the time, the food, and the advice,” I said.
“All free to you, my dear friends,” Angelica said as she ducked out front.
Once she was gone, Sophia said quickly, “I don’t have much time, but you should know that my mother wasn’t kidding about Denny West. He’s bad news.”
“Are you speaking from personal experience?” I asked.
“No, but Maria went out with him a few times. I’m still not sure what happened, but it ended with Mom threatening him with a cleaver, and that was the last I heard of it.”
