Killer Cannoli (A Terrified Detective Mystery Book 2) (18 page)

No answer so I moved closer to the back room door. “Are you okay?” When he still didn’t answer, I grabbed my gun and stepped into the cluttered, dimly lit room. My mouth dried up, but my eyes seemed to take in everything. I heard a thud and another noise I couldn’t identify. Afraid that Santore’s muscle boys somehow followed me here, ambushed Jason and were beating him up, I cocked my gun. Then I heard the kid curse. I rushed toward his voice to find him sprawled out on the floor, the golf club sticking out from under him.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” He stood and shook out his long, gangly limbs. “Slipped.” He picked up the golf club, now bent and the head dangling. It looked like a scarecrow posted out in a field. “I accidently banged it against the pipe and fell on it. You still want it?”

I reached for it. “Thanks.” First I yanked the grip off, turned the club upside down and shook it. Nothing. Next I ripped the head completely off and peered into it. Couldn’t see anything. I turned the head over and noticed two screws holding a plate in place. “Do you have a small screwdriver?”

He just stood there watching me.

“Jason, screw driver?”

He jumped. “Oh. Yeah.” He yanked open a drawer in the front desk and handed me a screwdriver tiny enough for a child to handle. “This should do it.”

It did. But that part of the club’s head was just as empty. “I thought maybe Joey hid something in the club.”

Jason nodded like that made perfect sense. “Cool. Oh, when I was falling, I remembered where he said he was going. Marsden Place. That was the name. I think maybe it’s on Pearl Road.” He beamed at me like he was the last one standing in a spelling bee.

“Great.” I’d look it up and get over there. I grabbed my purse and headed to the door.

With puppy dog eagerness he asked, “Hey! Wanna play a round before you go? I mean of golf?”

I turned my head. “No time now.” I hurried to my car before he could ask me when.

Chapter Twenty-Five

I
checked for the address of Marsden Place and called Corrigan. He didn’t pick up and I wondered if he was still questioning LoPresti. I left a message and continued on my way to Marsden Place.

It was one of those apartment buildings slapped up in the mid-twentieth century, dark wood with sort of a Spanish motif. I walked past the welcome sign outside the rental office and almost bumped into a guy in a dark suit. Ever the polite person, I begged his pardon but he kept walking, didn’t even acknowledge me.

Inside the rental office, a perky woman with dazzling, artificially white teeth pounced on me. “Can I help you find your new home?”

I rubbed my eyes, wanting to strangle the happy out of her. Calm again, I said, “No thanks. I’m looking for information on Larry Walters. I’m investigating a crime involving him.”

“Oh!” She covered her mouth with her hand, showing long, manicured nails. “Someone else asked about him just before you got here. Claimed he was Mr. Walters’s brother and that Mr. Walters was dead. Do you work for that gentleman?”

Brother? Must’ve been the guy I bumped into.
Was he really Joey’s brother or was he using that as his cover? My face turning white must have given her the answer.

“Oh, I guess not…”

I stumbled over my words. “No, I’m working with the police. What did you tell this brother about Mr. Walters?”

“I wasn’t here when Mr. Walters came in, but it’s all in the computer.” She moved a close-by mouse and the computer screen lit up. She skimmed the notes and said, “Larry Walters was here two weeks ago and saw the Casa II. He agreed to rent it. He said he had some small pieces of furniture that he needed to store until the apartment became available and asked for the names of some storage places. He was supposed to come back later to sign papers.” She scrolled further down. “Nothing else is entered. Guess he didn’t come back.”

I didn’t care about the apartment, but why had he gone to the trouble of coming here just to stick something in a storage unit? “Which storage places?”

“Southwestern Storage and U-Store-It. They’re both on Ridge Road.”

“Did you also give that information to Mr. Walters’s brother?” I knew the answer before she said it.

“Yes. I hope that was all right.” Her smug look said, “Maybe I was wrong, but I’m pretty sure it’s okay.” Far from it. Mystery Brother was probably already at one of those places. I tossed the agent a half-hearted ‘thank you’ and ran out the door.

I found the location of Southwestern Storage and headed there. If Joey had wanted to leave a lot of false trails to finding the flash drive, he’d done a good job. Dread flowed through me. If he’d done too good of a job, my aunt wouldn’t survive.

The guy at Southwestern Storage was about as cooperative as a shark being asked to play nice with a swimmer. I didn’t see the man from earlier, so he’d probably gotten the same treatment. I could have kicked myself for not taking note of his car.

I parked across the street from U-Store-It and noticed one car in the storage place’s parking lot. Either it belonged to the brother who stayed a step ahead of me or the owner. I decided to wait a minute to see if Mystery Brother pulled up or came out of the office. My stomach clenched thinking about a confrontation with him.
What if he has a gun?
I had a gun, but unlike me, he might not hesitate to use it.

I didn’t have time to reach any conclusion before he exited the office and hopped into his car. Whoever he was and whatever he’d discovered, I was determined to follow him. At a safe distance, of course. I ducked down with only my eyes above the window, hoping he hadn’t seen me.

I called Corrigan again and could have blown him a kiss when he answered. Before I could say anything, he began, “George LoPresti lawyered up.”

I felt a wave of disappointment.
Should’ve known that would happen
. I wanted to know more, but at the moment, following Mystery Brother was top priority since he was the only lead left.

I filled Corrigan in on Joey’s new apartment and the storage sheds and told him where I was. I told him, “The guy’s moving.” I waited until Mystery Brother pulled out of the lot and passed me. I noted the car’s license plate number and recited it to Corrigan.

“Okay, Claire, I’ve got it. We can take it from here.”

“And what am I supposed to do? Go home and bake cookies until you get him?”

He let out a big breath. “You’re supposed to keep safe. We don’t know who this guy really is or if he’s dangerous. Now let me handle this.”

Ignoring Corrigan’s advice, I made a U-turn and followed Mystery Brother. His car stayed one car ahead of me. If the guy had Joey’s flash drive, I had to get it right now. Every time my heart beat, it meant another second passing. I’d keep up the tail and let Corrigan handle the rough stuff. But I didn’t have time to risk on the guy slipping away.

“Sorry, Brian. I’m not going to yank him from his car. You can do that, but I’m gonna follow him. He may have the flash drive. Okay, he’s entering I-480 West. Maybe he’s going downtown.”

“Claire—”

“Gotta go.” I ended the call and concentrated on driving.

Mystery Brother didn’t seem in any great hurry, so it was pretty easy to follow him undetected. Almost too easy. An adrenalin rush made me want to floor it, pass the guy up and swerve in front of him. Of course then the evening news would start with, “A massive pile up on I-480, caused by Claire DeNardo, deceased.” That fear in mind, I forced myself to follow a car or two behind him.

He took I-71 and continued until the W. 117
^th
exit, then made a right hand turn. A police car pulled behind me and Corrigan called. “Black and white has spotted you and is following. I should be there about now.”

We looked like a parade. The black and white let Corrigan’s car zip by. He waved at me to let him pass, which I did, none too gracefully, and he turned on his flashers.

Mystery Brother pulled over like a good citizen and Corrigan, with the two uniformed police as backup, approached and asked him to step out of the car. The guy opened his car door and got out, his hands in the air.

I opened my car door, but Corrigan held up his hand, like the traffic cop he probably once was, to stop me. For once, I did what he said and just watched. I didn’t want to catch a stray bullet in my gut.

The man slowly pulled out his wallet with one hand, flipped through it, and extracted his driver’s license to show Corrigan. Never having heard of a wallet gun, my need to know what was going on overcame my caution and I hurried over to them.

Mystery Brother asked Corrigan permission to duck inside his car and pulled out an 8”x10” envelop. He handed it to Corrigan and said, “This should give you all the information you need.” 

Corrigan skimmed the letter and document attached. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Ms. DeNardo, meet Mickey Garino, Joey Corozza’s brother.”

My eyebrows shot way up. “Brother? Really? Can you prove it? What do you want with his flash drive? I need it. Give it over.”

I must’ve sounded demented. His jaw dropped and he stumbled over his words. “I don’t have, I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about. My brother never told me…”

But people lie. That was one of my first lessons on the job. According to Gino, “If it weren’t for lies, some people would have nothing to say.” I wanted to grab the guy by his tie. “What did you take from U-Store-It?”

“I didn’t get anything from there. All I know is Joey wanted me to check about that apartment. The lady there told me about the storage units. Honest-to-God, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to look for.” His eyes shifted from me to Corrigan. “About a month ago, I got this letter from Joey. We’re twins, fraternal. But our mother could only take care of one of us, so I stayed with her; Joey went into foster care and finally got adopted when he was nine. I hadn’t talked to him since Mom died ten years ago. Anyway, you can read the letter.”

Corrigan read part of it aloud. “If anything happens to me, bro, there’s something you should have. I’m moving into an apartment in Marsden Place. I don’t have an actual address there, but I will soon. I’ve got to get out of where I’m living now. The place is okay, but the guy I rent from is too nosy for his own good. Anyway, I’ll send you the exact address when I move in.”

My shoulders drooped.
Another dead end.
My aunt’s rescue seemed farther out of reach.

Corrigan stopped reading and motioned to the uniformed officers. “So when you heard Joey was murdered, you decided to grab the goods without anyone knowing. In fact, how do we know you didn’t kill Joey yourself?”

Joey’s brother clenched his teeth. “I didn’t. I wasn’t even in Cleveland until yesterday. I’ll answer any questions you have.”

One of the uniformed cops placed his hand on Garino’s shoulder. Corrigan said, “That’s nice. It makes it easier this way.” He turned toward the uniformed cops. “Take him in for questioning.”

“Mind if I take my own car?  I can follow you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

After the cops left with Mickey, Corrigan asked if I wanted to go with him to the police station.

I bit my lower lip and shook my head. “Doesn’t sound like he knows much.”

Corrigan shrugged. “Maybe not, but I’ll dig as deep as I can.”

My legs felt like they wouldn’t support me any longer and I opened my car door and lowered myself onto the seat. I was exhausted and my hope almost gone.

My phone rang and everything inside me froze up. Two hours couldn’t have passed. “Hello?” I thought to put the call on speaker, but feared the kidnapper would know and hang up. I needn’t have worried. It was Angie.

“Did you find Lena?”

I closed my eyes, hoping to garner what little patience I had left. “No, not yet. Please, Angie, this line’s got to stay open.” I looked at my free hand and realized I’d dug my fingernails in so deep I had four half-moons in my palm.

Angie said, “I understand, but I’m just so worried.”

“I don’t know anything yet. I’ll call you when I do.” I hung up without waiting for her reply.

Corrigan’s expression looked like a verse in a sympathy card. I would rather have had his usual look of annoyance. “Please. Don’t feel sorry for me. Save that for my aunt.” Time moved on and I needed to as well. I heaved myself up and out of the car and gave Corrigan a loose hug. “Thank you, though.” I got back in.

“What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going back to
Cannoli’s
.” I had no more leads but maybe I’d be inspired at my aunt’s restaurant.

“I can have someone else question Garino and come with you.”

“What if the kidnapper sees you there and doesn’t call?”

He didn’t say anything, probably because he didn’t know what to say.
What a great rescue team, I have no leads and he has no answers.

I pulled the car door shut and started the engine. The dashboard clock told me I had fifteen minutes to get back to
Cannoli’s
before the call. I floored it, knowing with traffic it would take me twenty.

I stumbled into
Cannoli’s
and sat down in the kitchen to wait. It wasn’t long before the call came, but on my cellphone. Each ring seemed louder, more insistent than the previous one.

The rough-grained voice began, “You’ve been busy. Do you have it?”

“Yes.” I hesitated, shocked at my own lie.
Too late to take it back.

“Good. Remember. Tonight at 7:00. Bring it to the Rocky River Reservation, North Mastick picnic area. If you want your aunt back in one piece, come alone. You’ll get a call when you get there.”

“Will my aunt be with you?”

“Do what you’re told and she will be.” He hung up.

I put my head in my hands and cried, loud and sloppy.
Did I lie to save my aunt or did I just panic?
Either way, I needed a plan. I started to call Corrigan, but hung up before I completed the call. First he’d holler at me for lying about the flash drive and then he’d want to come along. I deserved the scolding, but I couldn’t risk the kidnapper discovering the police at the drop off point.