Raquel looked as if she realized she might have given too much away when we'd spoken. “Maybe I should leave you two alone. I have some errands to run.” Raquel kissed Manny's cheek and told her husband she'd see him at home that evening.
Once she was gone, I turned to Manny. “So, has Eleanor confronted you? I mean… you have to do what's best for you, but she'd really miss you.”
Manny waved me in and shut the door. “This marriage thing is new to me, Kellan. I really like her, but I might be in over my head. I don't know what to do.” A few lines around the corner of Manny's mouth offered significant concern over the situation he'd found himself in. Earlier that spring, he and his buddies had taken a trip to Las Vegas after the previous owners of the diner had sold it to Eleanor. He was certain she would fire him and hire her own staff. He and his friends had hung out with a few girls at a club all night. Raquel was one of the girls, and they'd gotten together several times that week. On his last night, they hit the strip to party before returning home, and his friends had dared him to do shots most of the night. The next morning, he and Raquel woke up in bed with matching wedding rings.
“My friends were a little hazy on how it happened, but they were at the all-night chapel with us when we went through with the ceremony,” he spit out, slapping his hand to his forehead with a pervasive thud I could feel across the room.
Wow! I thought what happened in Vegas was supposed to stay in Vegas. I guess not. “Do you love her?” His mixed nod and shrug told me he had no clue. “I assume if she's here, that means she's moved in with you. Is Raquel pressuring you to leave town?”
“Not exactly. She has bigger ideas about what she wants to accomplish in life. Raquel's been staying here for a few weeks, then heads home to visit her family and friends.” He cracked his knuckles and looked at the ceiling in silent prayer. Then, he admitted that Eleanor still didn't know the truth.
“What do you plan to do?”
“For now, I guess, we're bicoastal until we decide the best solution. Raquel is trying to hook me up with some folks back home where I could get a job in one of the big restaurants. My family would kill me if I got a divorce. They're deeply religious.” Manny explained that they've been chilly toward his wife because of the lack of a traditional wedding. “Can you talk to your sister?”
It wasn't my job, but the guy looked desperate. “I'll think about it. For now, don't say anything. If she asks you, though, you have to tell her the truth.”
Once Manny acknowledged my advice and gave me a huge bear hug that almost cracked my ribs, I left Eleanor's office and grabbed my phone. I'd felt it buzzing in my pocket earlier but couldn't check while learning Manny's news.
When I listened to the voicemail, I felt the weight of doom lurking on my doorstep. Marcus had left me a message “Kellan, we need to discuss these jewelry thefts. I have proof that your brother has just stolen something from my family, and I am giving you the courtesy of a heads-up call before I turn this matter over to the police. I have a proposal to make, and if you're smart, you'll accept it without any questions. You have until five o'clock to return my call, or I'm contacting Sheriff Montague.”
Chapter 16
“I completely forgot, thank you so much,” I replied to the mother of one of Emma's friends. The girls had gymnastics practice at seven this evening, and we'd agreed to share transportation responsibilities. I called Woodland Warriors to let them know who would meet Emma at camp this afternoon since I'd be picking up the girls when they finished at eight thirty. As always, I was grateful when the school requested the secret codeword to prove who I was before they would agree to let Emma leave with someone else. Next, I texted Helena Roarke and her teacher to confirm release authorization. This day and age, one could never be too careful.
I agreed to meet Marcus at his house, which was next door to Nana D's farm, Danby Landing. Although his siblings lived in the family estate on Millionaire's Mile, he'd bought his own place years ago. I had no idea what the man wanted, but undoubtedly, it would be a dangerous meeting. He was on the warpath after his loss to Nana D in the election, and if he had something on Gabriel, it would be difficult to talk Marcus out of whatever cunning plan he'd concocted.
I pulled up to his house just as the cell phone Cristiano had given me began to ring. I couldn't ignore it, so I pressed accept and greeted him.
“It's Francesca,” my wife said in a calm voice. “Cristiano thought you'd want to hear from me.”
“Hi,” I said with dire hesitancy in my voice as I stepped outside the SUV. “Is everything okay?”
“I'm fine. Cristiano set a time for the meeting. He'll release me unharmed, if my parents deliver everything he asks for in his next request: All the evidence of any past wrongdoing on the part of Las Vargas, a signed agreement officially turning over fifty-one percent of Castigliano International to his family, and a videotaped promise they will not seek any retribution or revenge.” Francesca sounded as if she were negotiating a business deal and not the terms of her own release.
“Will your parents actually do that?” The volume of the concessions was astronomical. Of course, Francesca would be worth it to them, but something didn't feel right about this deal.
“They have no choice. Cristiano's father has made it clear that he expects his son to get rid of me permanently if my parents do not acquiesce.” Francesca paused to speak with Cristiano, then returned to our call. “I haven't spoken with them in three months, Kellan. I need you to tell them how important it is that they do this. I don't want to suffer the consequences.”
“I understand. Tell me where and when, and I'll make sure they show up.” I couldn't let them harm my wife. I knew things had changed between us, but she didn't deserve to die because of what her parents had done over the years. “I'll protect you.” Stress and fear plummeted inside me until they knocked my body out of balance and sent me careening against the stone pillar in the Stanton driveway.
“Cristiano wants to speak with you now,” Francesca said, abandoning the call.
“I told you we were close to a solution, Kellan. If you listen carefully and obey every instruction I give you, this will all be done tomorrow night.” Cristiano's smooth voice was not a comfort, despite his intentions. He told me that Francesca had left the room, so we could speak openly.
“Just tell me what to do, okay?” I refrained from letting my voice expose apprehension. The perspiration forming under my arms was enough of a reminder. “I'll drag the Castiglianos at gunpoint to your meeting spot, if I have to.”
“That's just it, you won't need to worry about that. I've got a much simpler solution in mind.” Cristiano explained that he wanted me to collect the evidence from the Castiglianos ahead of time. Most of it would be saved electronically on a storage device. Any physical copies, other than the agreement signing over their business, were to be destroyed.
“Then what?”
“Tomorrow evening at nine o'clock, you will meet me at a specific location for the exchange,” Cristiano replied.
“Fine. That gives me just over twenty-four hours. Where do you want to meet?” I checked my calendar to confirm tomorrow's schedule and decided I'd ask my parents to watch Emma for the evening.
“I'll let you know thirty minutes before the meeting. I can't have you sharing that location with anyone in advance. I've seen how much time you've been spending with the sheriff lately. I wonder what your wife would think about that budding relationship.” Cristiano must have smirked because a sinister sound emanated through the phone.
“It's not what you think. We're working on something else together—”
“I don't care to know the details. If you tell April Montague anything about this conversation, or any cops or FBI agents show up near the drop-off point, the deal is over. You, your wife, and your daughter will discover what it's like to swim in the middle of Crilly Lake with your feet and hands shackled together in iron cuffs and a plastic bag tied around each of your heads.” Cristiano said no
thing else and waited for me to respond.
“Your instructions are crystal clear, Cristiano. You're also the scum of the earth.” I couldn't control my temper and pounded my fist against the stone pillar. “But I will do what you ask.”
“I'm really not like my family. I've told you before that we could be friends in another life. I'm carrying out orders from my father, just as you're carrying them out for me. I'm the middleman in this predicament.” Cristiano verified the timing of his plan and hung up the phone.
I stood at the end of the driveway absorbing the severity of the situation while blood trickled down my hands. My life had suddenly turned into one of the Godfather movies, but there was no character I could conjure in my mind that would assure me things would end up okay. I called the Castiglianos to relay the instructions. Vincenzo indicated he and Cecilia would have what I needed the following morning. We agreed to meet at noon for the first exchange.
I stared at my personal cell phone feeling desperate to call April with the details of the plan, but if I told her anything, Cristiano would kill Francesca. I wasn't sure which risk was the bigger one to take, but I had little time to decide. Marcus Stanton barreled down his driveway, anger in his voice.
“What took you so long? I have important things to do. Are you prepared to protect your little brother, Kellan?” Marcus, an early-sixty-something louse with a penchant for much younger women, had two features people ruthlessly gossiped about–eternally sweaty hands and a thinning pompadour that had seen better days. Neither short nor tall, thin nor fat, he was the preeminent plain and dull man except for those notable exceptions. Unfortunately, he thought much more highly of himself.
“Listen, Stanton. I've had a heck of a day already, and let me assure you,” I blasted while stomping directly up to his face. “You are the least of my concerns right now. My brother hasn't done anything wrong, and if you've got any evidence, I'd bet my last dollar it's been manufactured by one of your lackeys. I'm getting close to throttling the next idiot that threatens me. You want to test my patience? Bring. It. On.” The fury inside me must have been percolating for months. I knew better than to release it in a physical manner, but I could unleash a nasty verbal tirade on him if necessary.
Marcus stepped back with a genuine look of fear formulating in his demeanor. “I'm certain we can work out a mutually acceptable deal. There's no need to get agitated.”
Noticing his retreat, I willed myself to calm down so that we could have a productive conversation. “What is this so-called evidence you have?” Yanking a tissue from my pocket, I pressed it to my bloody hand.
Marcus handed me a photograph of Gabriel from the Stanton home security system. “Look at the timestamp.”
“It was taken at eight forty-seven this morning,” I replied, studying the photo to understand what was transpiring in the scene. “It looks like my brother is standing on your front doorstep. What about it?” I'd been wondering why Gabriel hadn't shown up for Nana D's inauguration ceremony, but I figured I could've missed him if he'd hung out somewhere else. I reminded myself to call my mother when I was done with Stanton to ask her to watch Emma the next night. My memory was shot lately.
“I left the house this morning at eight fifteen to attend Seraphina's little press conference. My daughter was with me, and Krissy can verify what I'm about to tell you.” His face was reddening like a tomato as he spoke. Whether it was his temper, anxiety, or the warmer weather, I couldn't be sure. Nor did I care.
“Out with it, please. I don't have all day.” I tapped my foot impatiently, waiting for him to get the point.
“Krissy got home at ten o'clock. She had a headache and couldn't be out in the sun. When she arrived, she found the safe unlocked and its door wide open. I'd kept cash and several pieces of my late wife's jewelry inside. It was all missing!” He threw his hands to his hips and glared at me.
“What does that prove? Gabriel must've stopped by to see Krissy, but she was with you downtown.” My tolerance level was at its peak, and if he kept pushing me, he wouldn't like the results.
Marcus handed me a second picture. “Look at this one. It's from a side camera just three minutes later. Your brother was peering through my kitchen window.”
“Okay, so he was persistent. How did he supposedly get inside?”
“When I got home to check for myself, I found a whole bunch of glass underneath the window in the mudroom around back. I don't have a camera there, so I can't show you another picture. But there are several footprints. Someone broke in during the two hours Krissy and I were gone.”
“And you think it was my brother? This isn't proof. Let me see this glass,” I said, marching past him up the driveway. His information didn't make sense unless the thief was breaking the nine-day pattern. The theft was supposed to have occurred yesterday. Gabriel may not have been with us at the inauguration, but I wasn't going to jump to any conclusions about his guilt. After our last conversation, he'd convinced me he was innocent.
Marcus came running after me. “I called you because we can work this out privately. If you get Gabriel to return what he stole, I won't press charges. But there's one more condition.”
I walked around his house, ignoring his words. When I arrived at the broken window, I noticed all the glass was on the outside. Four large shards would fill ninety percent of the hole in the window. A few small pieces were scattered in the flowerbeds, but from what I could tell, the window had been broken by someone standing on the inside. Most of the glass wouldn't be on the ground outside. Either Marcus was trying to con me, or someone else with a key had stolen the items from his house, then broken the window to make it look like a robbery. Could Marcus have done it himself? Or was Krissy involved? Based on what I'd overheard, and what Lara had told me, either scenario was entirely possible.
Although I'd eventually call his bluff, I decided to play ball for a few more minutes. “Sure, we can keep this between us. What is it you want?”
“Convince your grandmother to step down from the mayor's office. She can recommend me as the replacement. I was the other candidate, and people won't want to wait for another election.” Marcus smiled like a kid in a candy shop, only this kid wasn't one anybody should ever trust.
“How do you expect me to do that? No one will believe Nana D decided to quit after all the effort she put in to get this position. Seriously?” Was the man losing his mind?
Marcus kept urging me to consider his deal, threatening to call the cops without delay if I didn't agree. “It happens more than you think. Seraphina could claim she had a health scare, or maybe she has to leave town to visit one of your uncles wherever they're living these days.”
Nana D's two sons, my interesting yet peculiar uncles, traveled for work. Zachary, a big-game and wildlife veterinarian, currently studied African elephant migration for the summer, and Campbell was on a covert humanitarian mission in the Amazon jungle. We hadn't heard from either in months, but that wasn't unusual due to their intense work and frequent isolation from society.
“I'm calling your bluff, Marcus. For one thing, you haven't mentioned anything about a calla lily. One had been left at all the previous crimes, so something doesn't feel right here. For another….” I explained the inaccuracy of the position of the glass, then told him I had a better deal to make.
His eyes darkened, and he kicked a pile of nearby dirt. “Don't try to mess with me, Kellan. I've still got pull in this town, and just because she's the mayor doesn't mean Sheriff Montague will listen to your nana. The sheriff follows the law, and if she thinks Gabriel is responsible, she'll arrest him. Especially since the last time we talked, the jewelry thefts were connected to the Crawford murder.”
“That ship has sailed already. What I find most interesting is your family's potential role in Quint's death. How about you tell me where you were the night Quint electrocuted himself? Or how about Krissy? I overheard a conversation that leads me to believe she knows more than she's said.” I shoved my sticky hands in m
y pocket and began to walk to the front of the house, knowing the rat would follow and beg for more information.
“I was in a late-night meeting with our former mayor. You can check with his assistant about it. I had nothing to do with Crawford's death,” Marcus growled, chasing quickly behind me but unable to maintain my pace.
When I got to the SUV, I turned around and calmly asked, “Then, you weren't trying to get revenge for Quint telling people you never paid for his construction services? If that's the case, maybe April Montague will summon your daughter to the sheriff's office for a discussion.”
“Nicholas Endicott was paid in full two days before the election. If I wanted to kill Quint, don't you think I would have done it sooner to stop him from spreading any negativity about me?” Marcus clamped a beefy hand on the SUV door so that I couldn't open it.
“It's time for me to leave. Get your hands off—”
“Krissy assuredly has an alibi for that night. Maybe she saw a calla lily today too. I'll discuss it with her, and we can close this matter. Don't you go thinking we're done with this negotiation. As soon as I confirm Krissy is in the clear, even though I know my daughter is innocent, I'll take these photos to the police. You have until tomorrow at noon to accept my terms, Kellan.” Marcus waggled his finger inches from my nose and reiterated his point before plodding back up his driveway and pulling out his cell phone.
April was supposed to follow up on the feud between Quint, Nicky, and Marcus on the unpaid construction work, but I was certain Stanton wouldn't have lied to me. He had to know I could easily check his alibi, so I temporarily believed him when he said he had nothing to do with Quint's murder. I wasn't as convinced about his daughter's innocence and had to find a way to get her to talk to me in a public setting. Why had the thief waited an extra day to execute the last robbery?
I checked with Gabriel to understand what he'd been doing at the Stanton house that morning. When he answered on the first ring, I could hear shouting in the background. “Where are you? Some sports game?”
Mistaken Identity Crisis: Death On The Cable Car (Braxton Campus Mysteries Book 4) Page 21
