Killer Cannoli (A Terrified Detective Mystery Book 2) (7 page)

Amidst screams, Mark Wyatt slid onto the stage wearing jeans and a shirt, both so tight they had to be made of pure elastic. He gave the audience a let’s-make-love smile and began gyrating to the music. His hips moving seductively, he tore off his shirt to the hoots of the patrons. Then he pulled out a handkerchief from his impossibly snug jeans, rubbed it across his face and tossed it into the audience. Right onto my father’s shoulder. My aunt looked shocked, then clapped her hands together and laughed. My dad shuddered, ripped off the hankie, bunched it up and slammed the crumpled cloth on the table.

I started to apologize for bringing him here, but he looked at me like he had when he caught me trying my first and only cigarette. He didn’t say a word, but I knew I’d hear about it later.

The audience swooned out loud and the applause was like a bowling ball hitting the pins. I glanced up on stage just as Wyatt yanked his pants off. Like others in the audience, I snapped a few pictures for my report to Janice.

My dad looked away from the stage. “Okay, we can go now.”

To my shock, Aunt Lena leaned over. “We don’t want to leave in the middle of his act. It’s rude.”

I tapped his arm. “I need to see what he does after the show.”

Dad sat back and folded his arms. “Puts his clothes back on, I hope.” He looked everywhere but on the stage.

I had to end his discomfort as soon as I could. I leaned over to talk to the woman who’d commented to us earlier, hoping she was a regular here. “He’s so hot. I wonder if he mingles with the crowd afterwards or maybe picks one lucky girl.”

She never took her eyes off the stage, but scoffed. “That one? I’ve seen him five times and he never mixes with the audience. Wish he would, though. He’s one nice specimen.”

An ear-splitting cheer went out as Mark Wyatt wrapped up his show. Knowing my dad wished the guy had kept his body wrapped, I wanted to spare him the next strip show. But I needed just a bit more information. 

My father said, “Claire, you got your pictures.” He motioned to the waitress for the check and threw down money when he got it. I protested, but he responded with, “Don’t worry. For this, you can pay me back when you get the final payment. This one is definitely not my treat.”

We wound our way through the tables toward the exit. My father walked so fast, Aunt Lena yelled, “Frank, slow down.”

But I stopped by the woman who’d waited on us. “Does Mark have a regular, you know, girlfriend?”

“As in Fun in the Dark Mark? Nope. Never seen him with one, although lots of women hit on him.” She shrugged. “Anyway, these guys are paid just to dance, although…” She leaned in close to me. “Some of the others do a bit of private dancing.”

I thanked her and hustled out the door, hoping my father hadn’t left without me.

Aunt Lena was the first to break the heavy silence in the car. “Now that was something to tell Angie about.” She giggled. “It definitely took my mind off of…other things.”

“I’m sorry, Dad. I had no idea he was a stripper.”

My father grunted, but didn’t even look at me.

Aunt Lena got her bossy on. “Frank, don’t be such a prude. It wasn’t Claire’s fault the guy aimed at you. Maybe it was a compliment.” She laughed so hard she snorted. “Anyway, it was your idea to go in with us.”

He threw one hand up. “Okay, okay. Let’s just forget it. You got what you needed. It’s done.”

I half-smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too. And you don’t have to pay me back.”

I sighed and leaned back in my seat. Now I had to think of a way to break the news gently to Janice Wyatt.

Not that I could meet with Janice or do anything until Bob was running again, and that would take some doing. Early the next morning, my father called his buddy, Tommy, who owned a garage in the neighborhood. Tommy met us at
Cannoli’s
and inspected Bob’s insides. He shook his head.

Like I was in a hospital waiting room anxious to hear how my loved one was doing, I asked, “What do you think, Tommy?”

He wiped the grease off his hands with a red rag and lit a cigarette. “I can check it out better at the garage, but it don’t look good.”

I rubbed my neck. No way could I afford a new car, or even a used one. I wondered how many PIs took the bus.

My father put his arm around me and addressed Tommy, “See what you can do and give me the estimate.”

I could tell by his tone he meant to pay for Bob’s rehab. “Dad! You can’t.”

“I’m your father and I can. We’ll either get your car fixed or look for a good used car for you.”

Aunt Lena cleared her throat. “In the meantime, use my car, Claire. I’m not driving it right now and it’s got a full tank of gas. Only thing is, you’ll have to use the keys I keep here at
Cannoli’s
and they’re heavy. The key chain I usually use is at home. I forgot it when we picked up my stuff.” She pressed her lips together. Throwing a glance at my dad, she added, “And I’m not allowed to go get them. Anyway, the keys here will work fine. Think of driving my car as payment for you working on Larry’s case.”

I hugged both Aunt Lena and my father, gushing about what a great family I had. Then she handed me the key ring. It probably weighed five pounds and resembled something a school janitor wore on his belt. I’d seen the thing hanging on a hook next to the kitchen door and it had, besides her car keys, the keys to
Cannoli’s
doors and freezer, pantry, paper closet, file cabinet, and any other thing that locked.

“Like I said, it’s heavy, Claire, but you’ll manage.”

“I can just take the ones for the car.” I had no desire to walk around, jangling. I attempted to pull those keys off.

She put her hands over my busy ones. “I’d rather you keep them all together. That way it’s easier for me to keep track. And I got extras with me for
Cannoli’s
.”

Tommy left with Bob in tow and I got into my aunt’s boat-sized Chrysler. I could barely see out of the windshield. No wonder Aunt Lena, only an inch taller than me, always complained of neck strain.

Finally at home, I collapsed, fully clothed, onto my bed and  was just at that point of dozing where thoughts don’t make sense and seem to float when I heard someone at my door. I groaned but got up and headed into the living room. Someone had slipped a white envelope under my door.

I should have gotten my gun, but it was in my underwear drawer and I was afraid I’d miss the messenger. Instead, I grabbed a vase from a nearby table and threw my door open. The hallway was deserted. I looked down at what I held and blew out a breath, relieved I wouldn’t be forced to shatter my only vase over someone’s head.

Not wanting to mess up any fingerprints, I put on my kitchen rubber gloves, opened the envelope and slipped out the contents. It was a copy of an old newspaper article with the headline, “Newark’s first female detective slain.” The reporter described how this detective, Tina Shorely, had been investigating some unexplained deaths and was, herself, killed. The hairs on my neck stood at attention as my eyes fell on the words boldly scribbled at the end of the article.

“Don’t end up like Tina.”

I flung the paper away like it was on fire. Not giving any thought to the hour of night, I grabbed my phone and punched in Corrigan’s number.

It rang until I feared it’d go into his voicemail, but he did pick up.
Thank God.
I inhaled deeply and tried to keep my voice from shaking. “I just got a threatening note to drop Joey’s murder case.”

“Did you see who left it?”

“No, they slipped it under my door. I was too late.”

“Be right over. Lock your door and don’t let anyone in besides me.”

Like I would let a stranger in now.
“Thanks.”

After we hung up I stared so hard at the newspaper clipping lying on the floor, it could have levitated. But I couldn’t touch it; it hadn’t been so long ago I’d received other death threats. Once more, I had to fight against the desire to crumple under the weight. I couldn’t stop the occasional whimper from escaping my lips, though. In the morning, I’d go see Aunt Lena, explain who Larry really was, and why this case was too dangerous for me. Then I’d resign and let the police handle it.

Corrigan pounding on my door and identifying himself broke through my thoughts, and I dashed to open it. I wanted to rush into his arms, but that wasn’t going to happen.

 “Are you all right?” To my surprise, he reached out to hold me, but stopped himself. He held his arms in midair for a moment, looking like a man describing the fish he’d just caught. He cleared his throat and dropped his hands back to his sides.

On automatic, I almost said, “Fine.” But that would be a lie. “Not good at all.” I swallowed hard and pointed to the paper, unwilling to go near it again. “It’s over there.”

Concern was all over his face. “Glad you called me.” He carefully picked the page up by one of its corners using a handkerchief from his pocket. He skimmed the contents and slipped the vile thing into an evidence bag. “I’ll get this to the station. Check for fingerprints, try to trace it.”

I rubbed my face, imagining how bad I looked.
Did it really matter, though?
“I suppose you’re going to tell me again that I should drop this case.”

“Nope. I could give you a recording of me saying that and you’d still do what you wanted. I’m saving my breath and hoping you come to your senses before it’s too late.”

I rested my hands on my hips. “As a matter of fact, I’m going to talk to my aunt tomorrow.”

One eyebrow raised, he chided, “Oh? Your senses showed up?”

I wanted to tell him the truth. That I didn’t want to end up like Tina Shorely. I was terrified, but my pride just wouldn’t allow me to say it. So I hedged. “My senses never left. It’s just a good idea for me to drop this case now. But I should talk it over with my aunt first.”

He nodded. “That’s good. She seems like a smart, practical woman. She’ll tell you to let it go.”

I didn’t want to talk or think about it anymore. “Speaking of go, I really am thankful for you coming over, but I need to get some sleep.”

“Just leaving.” He opened the door, but hesitated and looked at me over his shoulder. “I know I’ve said some things you didn’t want to hear, but I’d still like to go out with you, Claire.”

I tossed my head back. “But like you said before, after this case is solved.”

He bit his lip. “Yeah, I did say that.” He softly closed the door behind him.

Despite my exhaustion, I was restless. Fear of what could happen to me if I stayed on the case and guilt that I’d let my aunt down if I dropped it battled inside me, made sleep as elusive as Big Foot.

Chapter Ten

I
woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. Who needed an alarm clock when people called me at sun up? It was my father.

“Hey, pumpkin. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and pushed back my hair. “It’s okay. I needed to get up anyway.”

“Are you coming to Lena’s reopening today? I’ll take her there, make sure everything is kosher. Then when Angie gets there, you and me can go look at cars. What’dya think?”

I had to call Janice Wyatt and have her come to the office this morning, if possible. I frowned, thinking about her husband’s pastime. “I can be there at noon and help with lunch. Maybe sooner, depending on a client.”

“Okay, I’ll let Lena know. Thanks, Claire.”

I’d managed to get both my feet on the floor when my phone rang again. Ed.

“What’s shakin’ kiddo?”

I told him about the threatening note and my decision to quit the case.

“Have you told Lena yet?”

“No, I’ll do that this afternoon, but I’m not looking forward to it.”

His voice turned conciliatory. “I bet. But maybe it’s a good idea for you to back out while you’re still in one piece.”

My eyebrows shot up and I wasn’t sure how to respond. I’d expected Ed to convince me to stay on the case. I murmured, “Yeah…”

“Mind if I’m with you when you tell Lena?”

What was his game?
“I guess it’s okay, but I plan on being at
Cannoli’s
at noon. Won’t you be at work?”

“For this, I’ll take the afternoon off.”

“Are you going there to hit on her?”

He snorted. “In her tender state of mind? Nah.”

“Okay. Maybe she won’t blow up with you there.”

We agreed to meet outside
Cannoli’s
at noon. It was 9:00 a.m. and, I hoped, not too early to call Janice Wyatt.

I was in luck. She didn’t start work until 11:00 and could meet me at my office at 10:00. I assured her it wouldn’t take long to give her my report and settle up the remaining amount. I worried she’d need a shoulder to cry on when she got the news.

***

I concluded my report and pulled out the itemized bill. But Janice Wyatt leaned back in her chair, arms folded across her chest. “I’m going.”

My first impulse was to say, “Not until you pay me.” Then I realized she meant to Sparkles, where her husband danced. “Do you need more evidence?”

She ran her tongue over her top teeth like she’d just eaten the best steak ever. “No. I want to see him in action. He did lie to me.” She looked off into the distance. “In fact, I’ll go this coming Tuesday.”

I squinted trying to see her point more clearly. “I’m not sure I follow.”

She shrugged. “I’ve known what a hottie he is. Now all these other women have seen. But he’s still mine. You said yourself he doesn’t go after other women, although I’m sure most would take him up on it. That’s kind of a turn-on, ya know?”

If an oiled-up guy in a G-string is your type.
“Yeah, sure.”

“So I’m gonna go enjoy myself and watch him squirm.” She chuckled. “Or gyrate.”

 We settled up and she left a happy customer. So happy she gave me a bonus. I still didn’t understand her thinking, but wished all my cases turned out as well.

***

At noon, Ed was waiting for me outside
Cannoli’s
. Although I was on time as soon as I parked, he practically tore my car door off.