"No, not at all. What's going on? How was Cathy's parents’ house?” she asked cautiously.
"Oh, please, you know her father doesn't like me one bit. All he did was pick, pick, pick."
"Oh no, please tell me you didn't wind up getting into an argument with him?” Victoria cringed knowing most of the time that was exactly what Celina did. Her best friend was gay and had been involved with a woman, Cathy, for the past two years. Unfortunately, Cathy's parents were not so understanding about their daughter's sexual preference. Victoria had to admit even she was shocked to find out her best friend since first grade, was gay.
Victoria recalled her brother, Peter's, disappointment and shock. Celina was gorgeous. She had long red hair, green eyes, was thin and shapely. She owned a little boutique in Boulder Point and was very successful.
"I didn't have to because Cathy did. She finally stood up to the jerk, and you know what, he actually apologized for his behavior. I think he finally gets it, Tory. I was floored, you have no idea."
"That's great. What did Cathy have to say about it?"
"She's a little wary but it doesn't matter anyway. Her parents are leaving for the next two months to Morocco. Anyway, how was the old Malley party and parade?"
"The usual, except Tod showed up and..."
"What happened? Did he ask you out again? Oh Tory, just sleep with him and get it over with."
"Celina! No way am I doing that. There are real feelings involved here, and I'm not ready for another relationship. Besides, I'm working on something very important, and my free time is limited."
"All you need is five minutes. I bet he'd cum in one, considering the fact he wants you so badly."
"Celina! Stop it, will you? I told him I wasn't ready and he seemed to understand. Listen, as much as I'd love to stay on the phone and talk about my sex life with you."
"What sex life? You have none, honey, and the opportunity to have a booty buddy is right in front of you."
"Bye, Celina!” Victoria hung up the phone and laughed.
* * * *
On the other end, Celina sighed. She was worried about Victoria. Damn Steven for hurting her the way he did. If she ever got hold of that man, she'd kill him. That's if he wasn't already dead.
The thought made her heart ache for Victoria. If and when that news came, Victoria would truly loose it.
As Victoria's best friend, she needed to do whatever she could to cheer Victoria up. Perhaps get her back into the dating scene, slowly. As she thought about the consequences of pulling such a scam on Victoria, she cringed, thinking about them. Perhaps, just a nice lunch date some time next week would be best. Start little then ease her into the dating scene again.
Smiling, Celina knew it wasn't going to be that easy, not with Victoria.
* * * *
He sat at the small, round kitchen table and contemplated his next move. He felt so normal, so unaffected, sitting there, sipping his hot cup of coffee and staring at the 4x8 photograph. He had an inside track on the current Memorial Day Jane Doe. Of course, he did, since he was the one who put her there. The police still didn't have a positive ID, and he had time to plant his evidence to get the ball rolling on his plan. Everything would come together nicely, he was certain of that. He smiled and took another sip of the steaming beverage.
Danny Mardullo, scumbag detective, won't your family be surprised when they find this picture of you and the sexy Jane Doe? It was the perfect decoy. Because of his connections, the detectives working the case would assume foul play or a love triangle, like the one he was setting up. He needed someone to take the fall, and he had the perfect asshole in mind, practically running into position.
It was too bad about Linda Delaney. She was an attractive young thing but not when he got through with her. He laughed as he let his finger glide across the picture, envisioning what it had felt like to take her, have his way with her, then toss her over the edge.
So far, everything was going according to plan. It was crazy really, how easily he had come up with the idea. He'd created the whole scenario in his mind, adding and subtracting players, whatever he wanted.
Danny Mardullo was a good man, but who he was, what he did and was known for, just fit the character he needed so well.
There were ways to make Danny's murder look suspicious. Mardullo followed the straight and narrow. If he had strayed a little, maybe just turned the other way every now and then, maybe he wouldn't have made such a great victim. Now the game was on its way.
No one in this little, shit, small town had the balls to do what he was doing. He did, though, and he was surprised at how good it felt to have such control. There was no remorse, not for Danny Mardullo.
Mardullo was the top detective in the county. His law enforcement career began when he was twenty years old and worked for the New York City Police Department. He became detective rather quickly and continued a career in homicide investigation. He moved his wife to River Point before starting a family, and after years of commuting, and his brother-in-law Patrick coaxing him a little, Danny transferred to River Point.
The killer recalled the stories of how Mardullo was a big shot, immediately solving crimes, teaching the other cops and detectives proper procedures at crime scenes in order to maintain and preserve evidence. His reputation was amazing, and he studied under the legendary Bronx Homicide Commander, Vernon J. Geberth, author of Practical Homicide Investigation: Tactics, Procedures, and Forensic Techniques, the “Homicide Investigator's Bible."
Laughing aloud, he was impressed with himself and the ability to know so much, to discover such personal details undetected.
He had to admit, Danny knew his shit and that's what pissed him off.
Mardullo was always in the papers, and organizing community awareness programs. In an effort to get to know Mardullo better, the killer attended the events as a local citizen and watched Mardullo's every move. Becoming friendly with the family was an added bonus to his scheme.
Killing Danny was easy, but setting it up to look like something completely different, disgraceful, out of character, and dishonorable for such an ‘honorable’ guy, wasn't so easy. It was too late to go back. He was on a mission now and planned the arrival of a new victim at precisely the right time. It was perfect.
Smiling wide and feeling successful, he found it humorous how the community came together to mourn the tragic loss of a fallen officer. He had attended the event, at the time, watching the guests as they continued to arrive from the first afternoon wake until the gathering at the Mardullo house after the funeral service at the cemetery.
He recalled the confident sensation growing within himself, all the while, knowing he was responsible, standing there physically experiencing the results of his own actions and feeling positively excited about it.
One man in particular gave his deepest condolences, even kissed the cheeks of the new widow and Daddy's little girl. Again, he smiled at the thought of knowing he was responsible, knowing who started this whole thing, and confident of not being caught. The killer had a specific person in mind to take the fall, and the line of evidence, along with a little inside track, would guarantee his plan's success.
The killer rose from the wooden chair, dumped the remainder of his coffee into the kitchen sink, and walked toward the bathroom. He meticulously brushed his teeth and flossed each tooth, one by one. As the gums bled, he wiped the red liquid onto his finger, licking it. He enjoyed the sight of blood. It didn't make him feel nauseous or queasy. The more there was, the more it interested him, excited him, and it was now something he desired.
The job wasn't complete, and the scumbag politician who thought the killer was his partner and connection in town, hadn't a clue what the future had in store for him. When this politician took the fall for Mardullo's murder, the little town of River Point would carry a brand forever.
He looked at himself in the mirror one last time while he prepared to leave for work. Satisfied, he smiled then left his house.
> * * * *
"Chappa, where the hell do you think you're going?” Captain Louis yelled out as the early morning briefing broke up, and the cops scattered in various directions.
Ronnie Chappa hated the captain. He was nothing but a fat, obnoxious know it all.
"I was going to help the detectives with the Jane Doe case. Detective Phelps and Detective Kafrey said they needed a few patrol officers at the victim's residence. They figured out who she is.” Chappa felt the excitement the detectives emitted in the coffee room this morning.
"Well, that's because they're the detectives. You get your ass back in the patrol car. You and Smitty are running radar on Route 9W,” the captain ordered.
Chappa was pissed off.
"You got a problem with that, Chappa?"
"No, sir, it's just that I was there yesterday, at the crime scene. I'm interested and feel I can help."
"You can't help, Chappa. You're not a detective, and personally, I don't think you've got it in you to be one. Now, get to work,” he yelled.
Ronnie Chappa walked toward the side door of the station house and there, by his patrol car, stood Smitty. He was a rookie and a non-stop talking pain in the ass. The day would be long and dragged out. Chappa cursed the captain under his breath.
The nerve of that fat fuck, telling him he didn't have it in him to be a detective. That was bullshit. Other detectives told him he had what it takes. The captain was wrong and so was Mardullo. He had said the same thing one day and told him he needed to attend training courses, study under some famous homicide detective from the NYPD.
Bullshit, he didn't need any of that training. Mardullo was a know-it-all too, look what it got him. Maybe the captain would have the same in store for him.
"Hey, Chappa, you ready?” Smitty asked as Chappa opened the driver's side door.
"Yeah, Smitty, let's go write a bunch of bullshit tickets. The town needs money."
* * * *
Detective Tod Kafrey and Detective Don Phelps pulled up outside of Linda Delaney's apartment complex, along with a patrol car.
"What have you got, Phelps?” Tod asked as they walked through the quaint little complex, admiring the beautiful landscaping and waterfalls in the resident gardens.
"Nice place, but a little too pricey for me. These one-bedrooms go for four hundred grand,” Phelps said.
"Holy shit, really? I can't wait to see the inside of the place."
"Well, it should be pretty nice. The maintenance office said Delaney owned a two-bedroom on the upper level, garden view."
"Tell me about her.” Don filled Tod in on the information he had.
As they exited the elevator, they entered a long hallway lined with large windows that separated the three apartments from one another. Delaney's was at the end where a man, wearing navy blue mechanic's overalls, stood waiting.
"Detective Phelps, we spoke on the phone. I'm Larry Tomas. I didn't go in like you asked, and I have the key for you."
"Thanks, Larry, we'll let you know if we need anything else,” Phelps said. The maintenance worker got the hint and left.
"Here we go.” Phelps unlocked the door, and they entered the glamorous apartment.
* * * *
The door opened. The size and openness of the apartment was mesmerizing. There were various pieces of fine art and photographs of a once very alive and very attractive woman.
Phelps felt bad about the way the Delaney girl died. He couldn't imagine someone shoving dirt down another person's throat, slowly suffocating them to death. It was a horrible thought he shook from his mind to focus on the task at hand.
"So anyway, Kafrey, she was a photographer and did a little modeling on the side. She comes from money, as you can see."
"Everything looks intact, nothing seems out of place or that a struggle of any kind occurred here.” Kafrey made his way past the living room, decorated with white leather furniture and glass tables. He headed down the hallway toward the first bedroom.
* * * *
Meanwhile, outside the condominium complex, Officer Ronnie Chappa and Rookie Jeb Smitty pulled up in the patrol car.
"What are we doing here?” Smitty asked. Before he got an answer, Chappa was out of the car and heading toward the resident gardens.
Smitty ran to catch up with his partner of the day, a stuck up dickhead who thought he was Clint Eastwood or Charles Bronson. Chappa forgot the small matter of being a patrol officer, not a detective, and when the captain found out about this, they would surely be writing tickets for the next year.
"Wait up, will ya? Do you even know where they are? The captain's not going to like this,” Smitty added.
Chappa stopped short, grabbed Smitty by his collar, and yelled in his face, “Hey, you wanna go write fucking tickets all day, you go right ahead. I'm sick of that bullshit. I'm going in to help the detectives, and fuck the captain."
Smitty waited a minute then decided to go along with Chappa. After all, he was just a rookie following a more seasoned office's direction and orders. He wouldn't be responsible for that, and Smitty was sure the captain would be all over Chappa, not him. He caught up to Chappa just as the elevator door was about to close.
* * * *
Chappa knocked on the door then entered when he heard Detective Kafrey's voice giving him permission to enter. The patrol officer watched as the detectives looked for clues.
Tod asked Chappa and Smitty to assist them.
Everything in the apartment looked intact. A witness noted the victim left her apartment alone, prior to her disappearance.
Chappa, Kafrey, and Phelps searched the master bedroom when Chappa pulled out a sealed box from under the bed. They looked around for a small key, which they located in the side dresser drawer.
"This has to be it. It's small enough.” Chappa opened the box, finding it filled with short letters. He figured they were love letters of some kind and some photographs. The face of a young, vibrant woman appeared in several of them.
"Wait, wait, wait. Right there. Holy shit! Isn't that?"
"Detective Danny Mardullo, right?” He snatched the picture of Danny whose arms were around a much younger Linda Delaney.
"Let me see that. Let's put everything in an envelope, especially those letters and this picture. Damn, I wonder how these two knew one another.” Phelps asked.
Chappa didn't say it out loud, but he thought that sometimes a picture could say a thousand words. He knew Mardullo wasn't as straight as everyone thought. Family man, my ass.
They gathered a few other things, but nothing struck them as out of the ordinary or in need of removing. The other officers questioned the neighbors, and no one seemed to know anything or to even care.
* * * *
"Victoria, we're going to be late for this luncheon! Will you move it?” Debbie snapped at Victoria as they got out of Debbie's car.
"I hate these things when I have a deadline, you know? Why couldn't you go alone?” Victoria pushed her hair behind her shoulders, and a warm breeze caressed her cheeks.
Debbie smiled at Victoria. She wore a nice, pale yellow business suit, minus the jacket. The blouse she wore, along with the snug yellow skirt, was gorgeous, and anyone with even a miniscule amount of fashion knowledge would know it wasn't cheap. She wore a lovely set of genuine pearls around her neck and a matching pearl bracelet to go along with her delicate, dangling pearl earrings. Debbie had commented earlier in the day about how classy and sophisticated Victoria looked.
Victoria was shocked to see so many people at the luncheon. Numbly, she followed Debbi over to greet their boss John.
The conversations dragged, and Victoria just couldn't get her mind off the cases she had been looking at earlier. All she wanted to do was leave this restaurant and get back to the office. She was a little embarrassed and caught off guard when she felt a warm breath and whisper in her ear. Her body tensed immediately. She sensed the large presence behind her.
"Are we boring you, Miss Mardullo?” she heard
him say as she quickly turned toward Bret Collins.
She gave an apologetic and caught-in-the-act kind of look as Bret smiled wide.
"Don't worry, I don't think anyone else noticed a thing. I'm curious, Miss Mardullo, how do you come up with the questions you ask when you're about to interview a criminal, a killer? Your questions last week were definitely out of the ordinary."
"Thank you, Mr. Collins, and please, call me Victoria. I hate to be so formal. I enjoy what I do, so the questions come easily."
"You're impressive, and the same here, Victoria, please call me Bret."
"I suppose that would be all right, until you become town supervisor and all?” she asked in hopes of getting to know him better.
"It's a good possibility, but we'll see how much closer you and I are by that time.” He flirted with her. Caught by his charm and immediately attracted to him, she attempted to hide her warming cheeks by turning her head away to glance at the crowd around them.
It was strange and rather childish, having to avoid eye contact with him.
The mundane conversations, which normally would have put her in a comatose state if it weren't for Bret, continued around them. His one line whispers in her ear, or near her shoulder, kept her entertained.
The restaurant manager announced lunch would be served soon and to locate a seat.
Victoria began to excuse herself and try to find Debbie, but the handsome, soon-to-be town supervisor looped his arm around hers and led her toward a large table where the local politicians and some county big shots sat.
"Please come join me, so I too will not be caught with the same bored look you had only moments ago,” he whispered and Victoria laughed.
* * * *
Victoria exchanged pleasantries with others at the table. Soon they were absorbed in her every word and details about her job. Bret stared at her, watching as she answered each question. She asked a few questions of her own as the food arrived at the table.
Bret whispered in her ear, “I think you just sold a few extra copies of Search and Seizure. You have a knack for sales, as well."
"I hope you'll buy a copy and let me know what you think.” She flirted back a little and actually enjoyed it.
Victoria Page 4