It was dark, but the street lamps on the quiet street provided enough light to showcase the home’s Technicolor charm. As he walked up the short driveway, Al could see that a great deal of work had been done on the house. The white picket fence had been painted so bright that it threw off an ominous glow in the darkness. A yellow brick walkway zigzagged across the grass and led to the front door, the bricks bright enough for Dorothy and her friends from Oz to feel right at home.
This is creepin’ me out, Al thought, noticing that although the driveway was lined by a wooded area on one side, not one twig or branch littered the ground. He wondered if it was swept daily.
Walking across a small patch of grass, he approached the porch that extended along the front of the house and wrapped around the sides of it. Stretching his leg over the profusion of carefully tended plants lining the walkway, Al stepped onto the porch and made his way around to the side of the house. From there he could see that the house, although much smaller than Dino’s, had large windows overlooking Puget Sound at the rear.
With his back against the exterior wall of the house, Al continued until he reached a door. Covering his hand with his handkerchief, he jiggled the lock deliberately to make a small amount of noise. He held his breath waiting for the sound of alarms or dogs. There were none.
Smiling, thoughts of Cassie still swirling through his mind, Al removed a hairpin from his pocket which he’d borrowed from DeeDee’s bathroom that afternoon. Given the circumstances, he didn’t think she’d mind, and hadn’t considered it worth mentioning. Poking the pin into the lock, Al congratulated himself when the lock clicked open seconds later. Ya’ still got it, De Duco, he thought.
It was a bit like riding a bicycle. He’d learned how to jimmy a lock at an early age in Chicago, and it was something that had always stayed with him. Just like the familiar adrenalin rush he felt as he drew his gun and entered the house, passing silently through the kitchen and each of the rooms on the ground floor, looking for anything that could be a problem. Al’s stealth belied his bulky form as he crept up the stairs, with not so much as a creak or a breath betraying his presence.
He had no idea what he expected to find, and passed through the master bedroom and office, checking the drawers and closets, but he didn’t find anything of interest. It was only when he opened the last door, the one at the end of the upstairs hallway that he found something. He stood looking at the scene before him in shock, while it became very clear to him who had murdered Dana Donnelly.
Al removed his phone from his pocket, and took his time going around the room taking one photograph after another. When he was finished he turned and walked down the stairs of the deserted house. The only difference on his journey out was that he didn’t leave in silence. His language turned the air blue, and he slammed the back door with a thump, kicking over a potted plant on his way down the yellow brick road.
Jerry’s picture-perfect house is jes’ as fake as he is, he thought, as he hurried back to where he’d parked on the nearby side street. Speeding off as fast as DeeDee’s SUV would allow, and once he was a safe distance away from Jerry’s home, he pulled into a business parking lot and called Jake.
“Hey, Al,” Jake said. “How did you do today? Are you coming over here to pick up the wire?”
“Listen up, cuz’ this is serious,” Al said impatiently, wanting to get back to DeeDee’s house as soon as possible. “I already stopped by yer’ place earlier, and took that stuff outta the mail box since ya’ weren’t around. Thanks. I met Dino this afternoon, and he’s not our man. Jerry McGee, on the other hand, is a nutjob. He killed Dana D, and my guess is he weren’t jes’ foolin’ when he said DeeDee was next. I gotta tell ya’, the man’s a loony.”
“Tell me what?” Jake said, his voice rising.
“There’s a room in his house,” Al said, “plastered with pictures of Dana. It ain’t even a collage, more like freakin’ wallpaper. I got the photos on my phone. Dana with this guy, Dana with that guy. And he’s spray painted graffiti over all of it. Weird don’t even describe it.”
“You mean, like some kind of shrine?” Jake sounded uncertain.
A hollow laugh escaped from Al. “Oh, man, not a shrine. More like an altar of death. Things like, ‘Your time has come, you faithless slut.’ Or, how ‘bout this one, ‘You’ll die in front of me, just like you killed me on prime time.’ Coupla’ other things I can’t repeat, or Vinny would turn over in his grave. Dana’s head is ripped off in some of them pictures, and there’s one with a cut-out sword stickin’ right into her. That one hurt, jes’ lookin’ at it.”
Al heard Jake exhale loudly. “And you’ve called Chief Hewson about this, right? Because there’s no way DeeDee’s going there at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow morning. You’re the one who’s insane if you think I’m even going to discuss it.”
“Calm down, and let’s think this through.” Jake’s response was exactly what Al had been expecting, but Al wasn’t convinced that going to the police was the best approach. That, and a yearning for a taste of the excitement of the old life he’d left behind, made him want to finish what he’d started. “A few sticky pictures ain’t no reason to arrest someone fer murder. Don’t prove nothin’. Unless there’s a murder weapon or some DNA evidence, and as far as I know there still ain’t, the police are gonna have to let him go. Then we’ll jes’ be back to square one, except by then he’s gonna be even madder, and possibly more reckless. We need to stick with the plan we discussed. Then we can catch him red-handed, hand over the evidence to the police, and they can lock him up and throw away the key.”
“What if something goes wrong, Al?” Jake’s voice faded over the line. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to DeeDee.”
Al stared out through the windshield at the empty parking lot beyond. Finally, he got it. What Jake felt about DeeDee. Dino’s feelings for Dana. He’d only just experienced a fleeting glimpse of this romantic love thing that had eluded him all his life. If what he felt for Cassie, after meeting her on only two brief occasions, was to grow into something more, then it seemed to him falling in love with a woman must be the scariest, most exciting, precious thing in the world. He’d loved Vinny like a brother, but this was something different.
His reply to Jake was simple. “It won’t go wrong. Ya’ ain’t gonna let it. Jes’ show her how much ya’ love her, Jake. Now, let’s go over it again.”
By the time Al pulled up in front of DeeDee’s house a short time later he was tired, hungry, and a tiny bit worried that maybe he and Jake were doing the wrong thing. But there was no backing out now.
“Hi, Al,” DeeDee called out from the great room when he entered. “Have you eaten? I wasn’t sure if you were having dinner with your friend, but if you didn’t, I can fix you something.”
Al locked the door and walked down the hall to where DeeDee was curled up on the sofa with Balto at her feet. “You stay there,” he smiled. “Do you have any bacon?”
Balto’s ears pricked up.
DeeDee nodded. “Yes. I always have some in the refrigerator. As you may have guessed, Balto is a big fan.” She started to get up. “I’ll get you some now.”
“No, don’t move,” Al said, motioning her to stay seated. “Are ya’ hungry? Not sure if ya’ ever heard of Big Al’s Special. It’s bacon and poached eggs. I can rustle some up for us.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Tempted?”
Balto jumped off the sofa and stood beside Al, and a smile crossed DeeDee’s face.
“When you put it like that, I can hardly refuse. I only had a small snack, so that would be lovely. Thanks Al.”
Al raised his hand in the gesture of a salute. “Balto and Al, at yer’ service, ma’am. Sit tight, and I’ll call ya’ when it’s ready.”
“By the way, how did everything go today?” DeeDee called after him as he walked back into the hallway, closely followed by Balto. He saw DeeDee’s purse sitting on the table.
“Oh, ya’ know,” Al said, opening the purse and making a s
mall tear in the bottom of the interior fabric, before slipping the microphone he’d picked up from Jake earlier through the incision. It was a tiny bug-type device of the kind used by Russian spies, and closer to home, the CIA. “Not much to report. I’ll tell ya’ ‘bout my meetin’ with Dino over dinner.”
“And your new special friend?”
“Still pleadin’ the fifth,” Al called back, glad that DeeDee was unable to see his wolfish grin.
Chapter Seventeen
Al drove DeeDee to Jerry McGee’s home the following morning.
“Here ya’ go,” he said, pulling up outside the house he’d visited under the cover of darkness the evening before. In the light of day, the house looked even more like a Hollywood set than he remembered. Jerry’s car, a shiny black Range Rover, was parked in the driveway. Al got out and went around to open DeeDee’s door.
“Thanks, Al,” she smiled, getting out. “What’s wrong. Why are you looking at me that way. Is there something stuck in my teeth?”
Al stared at her in dismay when he noticed that she wasn’t carrying her purse, the one in which Al had concealed a hidden microphone. Instead, DeeDee was carrying a canvas tote over her shoulder, which looked like it was stuffed full of bulky paper items. “Where’s yer’ purse?” he barked at her, blocking her path.
“I don’t need it,” she shrugged. “I’ve got all the literature about my catering business, Deelish, in this.” She patted the tote bag. “Sample menu plans, price lists, even dummy place cards. And my phone. That should cover it.”
“Ya’ better take yer’ purse,” Al insisted. “Ya’ can’t go in there without it. What if ya’ need yer lipstick?”
DeeDee made a face. “For Jerry? He’s not my type.”
Al crossed his arms. “We’re gonna’ have to go back and get it.”
DeeDee tried to get past Al, first one way then the other, but Al extended his arms so she was unable to pass. “What is wrong with you, Al?” DeeDee hissed. “If this is your idea of a joke, it’s not funny. It’s already 10:00 a.m., and if you don’t let me through, I’m going to be late. You can practice your linebacker moves with Balto later, if it makes you happy.”
Al spied DeeDee’s purse on the back seat of the SUV, and reached in and grabbed it. “Here,” he said, thrusting it at her. “I don’t like to say anything, but if ya’ must know, I think a lady oughta have her purse. It marks out the wheat from the chaff, if ya’ catch my drift.”
“Really?” DeeDee looked unconvinced. “Okay, I suppose it won’t hurt.” She took the purse from Al. “If it keeps you happy, and you let me pass, I’ll bring it.”
“Right,” Al said, stepping aside with a nod. “On ya’ go. I’ll be waitin’ fer ya’.”
“Okay,” DeeDee said, with a quizzical smile. “Thanks. I won’t be long.”
Al watched DeeDee walk up the driveway before he got back in the car. Adjusting the earpiece nestled in his left ear, he spoke into the microphone concealed under the collar of his new dove-gray button-down shirt.
“Alpha calling Juliet, do you copy? Over.” The only noise he could hear was a crackling sound. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “Jake, it’s Al. Radio check. Over.”
The crackling cleared, and Jake’s voice came through his ear. “Roger. This is Juliet. I read you. Over.”
Al smiled. “It’s Al, not Roger. DeeDee’s on her way in. Where are ya’?”
“In the closet in the room at the end of the upstairs hallway, just like you told me.” Jake’s voice was low, and Al had to strain to hear it.
“Did Jerry go for his run, like Rob said?”
“Yes, he left at 8:00 a.m. on the button, and that’s when I slipped into the house. I know you described what was in here to me, but I still got a shock when I saw it. I understand now what a wacko Jerry is. If he lays a finger on DeeDee, I swear I’ll—”
“Ssh,” Al ordered him. He could hear voices coming through the second earpiece, placed in his other ear. “I’m picking up DeeDee and Jerry now, can you hear them, Jake?” Al pressed the red button on the recording device in his lap. Whatever DeeDee’s microphone picked up from then on would be on the recorder.
Jake also had two earpieces, one for Al’s microphone, and one for DeeDee’s. “Loud and clear,” he confirmed.
“Okay,” Al barked. “We’re rollin’. Stay calm and do like we said. Ima gonna leave it to ya’, unless somethin’ goes wrong, and if it does, then I’m movin’ in, guns blazin’. Got it?”
“Affirmative,” Jake said. “I’m on it.”
“Good man,” Al said, drawing his gun and putting it on his lap beside the recording device. He picked up the newspaper that he’d taken from the porch at DeeDee’s house on the way out, and set it loosely on top of them. Then he adjusted his sunglasses and settled down in the seat as if he was taking a little nap. Anyone passing by would never have guessed the scene unfolding inside the house, the one that was playing through Al’s ears.
Al zoned in on the conversation between DeeDee and Jerry, about what type of catering he would like for his imaginary party. DeeDee, oblivious to the fact Jerry had lured her there under false pretenses, was patiently explaining different finger food, bowl food, or sit-down meal options for twenty guests.
“Oh, man,” Al said to Jake. “I can’t believe he’s arguing with her about the price for a fake party.”
The strains of Jerry’s voice came over the receiver. “I’m not paying a cent more than thirty dollars a head. Stop taking me for some kind of a fool, Ms. Wilson.”
“That’s no problem at all, Mr. McGee,” DeeDee said. “But we can’t include everything you’re requesting within that price range. How about if we forget the fresh shrimp, and substitute cheesy seafood bites instead?”
Al was amazed that DeeDee managed to keep her voice calm, steady, and polite. The way Jerry was talking to her, Al was ready to burst right in there and sock him in the kisser.
Jerry’s voice came through as cold and sneering. “I’ll thank you not to insult me or my guests, with cheesy anything. Is that understood?”
Al could hear papers rustling, and the sound of a chair being moved. He heard DeeDee’s voice. “Mr. McGee, I think this meeting is over. It’s obvious there’s been some misunderstanding or breakdown in communications. If it was on my part, I’m sorry. I appreciate you considering Deelish for catering your party, and hope you find another caterer more suitable for your requirements.”
“Atta’ girl, DeeDee,” Al said, cheering her on. “Jake, that’s some woman. She’s not afraid of confrontation, is she?”
“I can vouch for that,” Jake whispered, “but wait, Jerry’s changed his tune. Sounds like he’s doing some schmoozing. What the—?”
“Ssh,” Al instructed him. “Quit jabberin’. Guy can’t hear a thing with you goin’ on like that.”
Jerry’s voice had become much friendlier. “As I was saying, Ms. Wilson, the confusion was entirely mine. Please accept my apologies. I’ve been ripped off in the past, and I let that color my judgment. I wasn’t questioning your integrity, I was just trying to see how far my budget will stretch.”
“Wow,” Al muttered to Jake. “What a cheapskate scumbag this loser is.”
“Apology accepted, Mr. McGee. As I was saying, a selection of five canapés would be thirty dollars a head. You can take or leave the cheesy bites, it’s entirely up to you.” DeeDee voice sounded firm and businesslike.
“Whatever you think,” Jerry said, all of a sudden sounding like he was Prince Charming. “It’s probably easier if you take care of everything. Ignore my silly ideas, I suppose too many Emmys have gone to my head.”
DeeDee’s voice softened. “No problem at all. I couldn’t help but notice your photo gallery on the wall on the way in. So many celebrities! Your rolodex must be full of A-listers. I totally understand why you want the party to be perfect. You probably have a lot of important guests coming.”
Jerry laughed. “You’re too polite to ask, I know, but y
es, the guest list is very high profile. And that’s just a small selection of the photos. I’ve hung the best ones on the wall in the upstairs hallway. I like to keep them out of the way. I wouldn’t want people to think I was showing off. I don’t want to appear to be vulgar. Would you like me to show them to you?”
“Thanks for the offer,” DeeDee said. “But I don’t want to intrude. I should be going anyway.”
Al sensed what was coming next, and instinctively, he reached for his gun.
“Please, Mrs. Wilson, I insist. It’s no trouble, really. How about taking a selfie holding one of my Emmys? There’s plenty of them to choose from.”
“Well…that would be awesome. My daughter would love it. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” Jerry murmured. “Not at all.”
Al heard two sets of footsteps, and he knew DeeDee and Jerry were climbing up the stairs.
“Get ready,” he hissed into the microphone at Jake, while at the same time he opened the car door and stepped outside. He started walking up the driveway. “I got yer’ back.”
Al slipped in the rear entrance of the house and crept up the stairs, pausing at the top. He didn’t need the earpiece to make out the voices coming from the hallway just around the corner from where he was standing.
“George Clooney!” DeeDee gasped. “Oh look, there’s you and Madonna. Oh, my gosh. What’s she like, really?”
“Madonna’s a tough cookie,” Jerry said with a laugh. “And I don’t know if you like Ryan Gosling, or Justin Bieber, but there are some great shots of them in my office.”
“My daughter is a fan of both of them,” DeeDee laughed. “Although between you and me, I wouldn’t turn Ryan down myself.”
“If you’d like, I’ll show you their photos,” Jerry said. “My office is just at the end of the hall.”
Al poked his head around the corner just in time to see Jerry enter the room at the end of the hallway, followed by DeeDee, who let out a sharp scream when she saw what was in the room. Al inched closer, holding his gun steady in his hand.
Candy Canes & Corpses Page 77
