“I trust you found the bruise on her neck that I pointed out earlier.”
“That is what bothered me and prompted me to order the toxicology report. It looks like bruising from a needle puncture. All this is being handed off to another detective. Remember, I am going on furlough in like three hours. Mac, we will handle everything from here. Just enjoy the holidays, man. Gotta go.” Vince ended the call before Mac could tell him his leads.
Chapter Fourteen
Millie’s anxiety seemed under control, but it wasn’t time for her to leave yet. She knew in about an hour and a half the worry would naturally get more intense. Her boyfriend would be heading to 272 WitchHazel Circle for dinner with her family for the first time. She didn’t think she would be aiding Mac in a murder investigation either. She hadn’t seen such a voracious and intense side of the usually happy-go-lucky Mac she’d come to know.
Nothing new for Millie. Her mother’s intensity was ever present, and no stopgap existed. Her father gave up trying to calm her down years ago and just rode the wave. Mac was not at all like her mother in many ways, but today, their energy did match up.
Millie milled about the bank lobby, fiddling with the holiday decorations. The fake Christmas tree needed a little something, and she would never let Fred decorate the lobby ever again. The ornaments were all scrunched near the top of the tree. They were interest rate ornaments, but still, spread the love, Fred. Idiot. She promptly balanced the ornaments on the tree to have a more even distribution.
No more appointments today and she’d finished the paperwork from prior meetings already. Her efficiency led her to boredom at times. She sat down at her desk, picked up a pen to tap the desk, then decided to check the Fanuccis’ accounts for fun. Kill the time.
The restaurant business showed little growth with a steady, rhythmic sum over and over again. Italian food must be very cheap to make. The Fanuccis had lots of money. They certainly held the correct amount of assets to buy the Tiny Wanderer. Millie valued the retail legend at approximately ten million or so, including the real estate.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps the younger family members wanted to grow their assets and expand into retail.
She would be interested to see what Mac found out.
Speak of the devil. Mac’s name lit up on her phone screen.
“Hello, what’s the news?”
“Lots of news actually. Firstly, I am excited to head to your parents. It will be great to meet them! Also, Vince actually did help, and he thinks she may have been murdered with a poison syringe. Alas, toxicology reports take forever. I noticed a bruise on her neck, and she had no bumps or bruises on her body, which means someone punctured her neck with the needle, then gently laid her down on the kitchen floor.”
“Whoa, so definitely a homicide.” Millie spoke softly so no one else could hear, especially Fred in the cubicle next to her.
“Yes, that’s what we think. Also Edith, a close friend of Pat’s at the Wanderer, said that Patricia never told her about the Fanucci offer. Why not?” Mac asked.
“That is odd. She didn’t want Edith knowing about that. We have got to talk to the daughter soon. She will probably know the most about this. Make it to see Fanucci yet?”
“Heading there now. Meet you at 272 at four.”
“Get ready. That’s when the real craziness begins.” Millie laughed.
“I look forward to it. Okay, bye.”
“See you soon.” Millie wanted to say ‘love you’ at the end of the conversation. He hadn’t said it yet. She felt it. She was fairly certain he felt the same, but he had yet to say it.
Push the lingering miniscule doubt away. He is crazy about you.
Chapter Fifteen
Mac loved grilled cheese sandwiches but also admitted he felt quite full after the indulgence. Mac had eaten two kinds of sandwiches his whole life—PB and Js and grilled cheese. He hoped he had enough room for dinner. Well, he must have enough room for dinner. He would find a way to eat as much as he could within reason. Didn’t want to be rude to Becca and Hank.
Speaking of food, Mac secured his backpack to his back, gripped his cane, and made his way out of the Tiny Wanderer, which had been increasingly more crowded. The ceremony and houses for the Christmas Walk would be open soon. Edith and the team prepared free hot chocolate for shoppers. Bing Crosby’s voice resounded through the Tiny Wanderer, adding an extra special touch to the meticulously decorated rooms of the special retail destination.
Christmas lights of varying color, intensity, even various themes of decoration in the different rooms of the colonial retail mansion added to the celebration of the season. The bathroom/toiletries room was decorated in pink and white. The lighting and lamp room was in blue and gold with various blinking lights, some flashing, others slowly glowing.
Mac made his way to the toy room which had the traditional green and red motif. He wanted to buy a toy to donate. He scanned the room and found a display carousel with various puppets hanging from it. He grabbed one that looked like a bear and another that looked like a frog and would request to have them wrapped together.
For a minute, Mac got swept up in the season. He realized that Patricia would be proud of her team at the Wanderer. The place looked great. Magic filled the air. They’d soldiered on without her and were doing a great job.
His resolve to figure out who stabbed Patricia in the neck with a needle and killed her strengthened.
Mac placed the puppets on the counter and grabbed for his wallet in his jacket pocket.
A young woman behind the counter asked, “Will this be all? Would you like them gift wrapped?”
“Yes, please, both in the same package if at all possible,” Mac said.
He realized that only sometimes people recognized his face from his heroic exploits. Others were oblivious, and he liked that. His life had changed enough. Young people who didn’t pay much attention to the news definitely didn’t recognize him. Mac paid for the toys with his debit card.
She wrapped the puppets quickly and efficiently as a line formed behind him.
“Thank you.” Mac smiled.
“Merry Christmas,” the young woman said.
“And to you.” Mac grabbed the bag and made his way to the exit.
Time to see Michael Fanucci.
Dusk had fallen over Third Street. The temps dropped a little more. Probably twenty-five degrees Fahrenheit.
The Christmas lights started to intensify in brightness as the sun set.
Cars lined the street. People milled about and filled the sidewalks. The Christmas Walk had begun.
Mac crossed the street to the cast-iron work entrance of the elegant Italian restaurant known as Fanucci’s.
He walked in and smelled a hint of garlic, olive oil, and wine. The blend was comforting to Mac. His family frequented an Italian restaurant when he was young. There were gold lights everywhere and green garland along the ceiling of the main dining room which was all glass panes that gave full view of the magic of Third Street during Christmastime.
A young, bushy-eyebrowed man in a suit greeted him. “Hello, sir, do you have a reservation?”
“I don’t actually. I was wondering, is Michael in?”
“Michael is not here at the moment. He will be in later. May I take a message?”
“No, no, that’s all right. I will come back to see him later. Thanks.”
Mac thought it best not to push it any further. He walked out of the restaurant and would head to 272 WitchHazel Circle.
No sooner had he let go of the door than he saw the town car. The mayor’s town car. Soon the bumbling baldy would emerge from the black vehicle. Mac stared at the door.
No bumbling idiot yet.
Mac continued down the walkway that led away from the restaurant entrance and turned right to get back to his vehicle. He felt a hand on his back.
“The mayor wishes you a merry Christmas, Officer Rickman. He wanted to personally thank you for taking up residence here in
Geneva,” a deep voice bellowed. A big mitt patted his back. Hard.
Mac turned around, and a large man in a tan, full-length coat walked in the opposite direction and entered the driver’s seat of the town car.
Mac gripped his cane in anger. He wanted to knock the guy for a loop. Well, the mayor had just cemented himself as a suspect. With what Millie had said about the Chamber of Commerce maintaining tradition along this charming street, the mayor’s meddling may go farther than maintaining his precious Christmas Walk event.
Chapter Sixteen
At 272 WitchHazel Circle, Millie drove into the subdivision to her parents’ house. She neared the green gate that always seemed rather superfluous to Millie. No other home had a gate that led into the driveway except 272. She hit the gate opener in her car and drove down the blacktop driveway. Her parents’ house was a brightly colored two floor, four bedroom colonial-style home combined with medieval architecture. Spires shot out from the roof at the edges, and the center entrance looked like a gothic tower as if signifying a church bell. There was no bell.
If the house ever fell into disrepair, it would certainly gain a reputation as being the most haunted house in Kane County. Millie imagined the bright yellow of the painted siding fading into a dull grey. The bushes under the windows growing untouched and wild with ivy crawling up the siding fit for a perennial haunted house attraction.
She hoped her mother would behave. The house was already overwhelming.
Millie walked into the house with her own key. The entrance was grand with a high ceiling, a large chandelier, and a staircase with banisters accentuated with lit garland.
“Hellooooo!” Becca called from the kitchen.
“Hey, Mom. Need any help?” Millie made her way to the kitchen through the hall to the right of the staircase.
“Food-wise, we are good. Could you set the table?” Becca chopped celery on the kitchen counter. She looked a lot like Millie except older.
“Yes, I can do that.” Millie walked to the cabinets that lined the bottom of the island in the center of the kitchen.
“Mil, does he know?” Becca asked.
“Mom. No. He doesn’t know. We have had this conversation many times. He does not know.” Millie placed the plates on the table.
A loud snore resounded from the living room.
“Hank! Wake up! Millie’s here and her boyfriend is coming in a few minutes! I swear I am going to kill your father,” Becca yelled at her husband.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Oh, hey, Millie!” Hank didn’t move from his seat on the couch. He just stared at the hockey game on television.
Millie could see the white hair that sprouted from the top of the couch and smiled. Some things never changed.
The gate bell rang.
“Here he comes. Hank, get up,” Becca said.
“I got the gate.” Millie put the last plate on the table, walked to the door, and buzzed Mac in.
Mac’s powder blue sedan made its way up the driveway.
Becca strode up to Millie in the foyer. “Millie, I think you should tell him sooner than later. Just saying. I think it’s important that he knows. Also, your father and I are very happy for you. We haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”
“Mom, I know. I know and thank you.” Millie opened the door. She reeled from her mother’s intensity followed by a really sweet comment and took a deep breath.
Mac walked up the walkway.
“Hey, come on in!”
“Hello! What a day!” Mac stepped into the house.
“What does he mean? What happened today, Millie? What are you not telling me?” Becca asked.
“Mom…I know it has been a weird day. Glad you made it. Mac, meet Becca, my mom.”
Becca put out her hand. “Pleased to meet you. I have heard nothing but awful things.”
Mac laughed. “Nice to finally meet you too!”
Becca had cut any and all first-meeting tension out of the moment with her humor.
“Lovely home you have here. Love the Christmas decorations.” Mac gestured to the garland.
“Thank you. I know I have much more to put up. Oh my gosh. It’s ridiculous. Anyway, thank you. So why exactly are you dating my daughter? She’s a disaster,” Becca continued sarcastically..
Mac and Millie both laughed. A good start.
Chapter Seventeen
EVENING
Dinner went smoothly. Well, as smoothly as possible. Millie thought Mac might have been overwhelmed by all the food packed onto the table and the blistering pace with which conversation took place at the dinner table, but he took it in stride. Millie felt good about the situation. It was nearing six p.m. and almost time to get a spot for the tree lighting ceremony downtown in front of the courthouse.
“I am telling you that a fox disappeared in the field. Just gone,” Hank said to Mac.
“What happened to it?” Mac.
“Bigfoot. No other explanation.”
“What do you mean?”
“We walked over after a few minutes and saw nothing but deep marks in the ground.” Hank’s eyes were wide.
“Wow. That is very strange.”
“Dad, we’d better get going. Mac and I are going to head to the Christmas Walk,” Millie said.
“Before you go. What is happening? Why was the day so crazy?” Becca put her finger to her lips and chewed her last piece of chicken. “Sorry.”
“Mom, it’s really not a big deal.”
Becca never wanted anyone to leave. She would keep the conversation and food going forever. If they stayed, dessert would be served followed by popcorn followed by probably more popcorn.
Mac wiped his hands with his napkin. “It’s okay, Millie. My brother Vince of the GPD is investigating a possible murder, and I am helping out a bit, that’s all. I have to question someone at the Christmas Walk. I’d rather not go into too much detail, but yes, helping my brother.”
“Oh, wow, is it anyone we know? Anything I can do to help?” Becca took a sip of water.
“No. I can handle it. Just routine cop work is all. Thank you so much for dinner. It was great. I had a wonderful time. Thank you so much.” Mac stood up and joined Millie.
“Just a minute.” Becca stood and walked into the butler’s pantry between the dining room and kitchen.
Millie worried about what Becca might be bringing out of the pantry.
Her mother handed Mac a bag of peanut brittle with red ribbon. “Great to meet you. We will have to do this again very soon. Hopefully we will see you Christmas Day. Millie, oh, I wanted to give you that thing to return to the Tiny Wanderer. Come grab it with me.”
“Okay, let’s get it.”
Mac walked into the foyer to grab his jacket. Millie followed her mother into a back room.
“Mom, what are you doing?” Millie asked.
“Take this with you.” Becca pulled a small vial of blue liquid out of a closet.
“Mom…no.”
“Millificent Nicole, you will take this. It loosens lips. Helps people tell the truth. Maybe it can help Mac and his brother,” Becca insisted.
She’d busted out the full name and middle name. She wasn’t messing around. She must like Mac to want to help.
“Okay, Mom. I’ll take it. If you insist.”
Chapter Eighteen
Mac drove Millie to Salem Bank, where Millie’s boss had reserved a spot in the parking lot for them to park in. Parking was certainly at a premium especially with the Christmas Walk officially underway. Night had fallen on Geneva, and the seasonal lights created an exciting atmosphere.
“The mayor sent a goon to intimidate you. Whoa. What is our next move?” Millie asked.
“We have to determine whether or not it was the mayor. I mean, I didn’t actually see the mayor. The goon mentioned the mayor, and I saw the town car and assumed. Right now, we stick with the original plan and question Fanucci. To see what he knows.” Mac pulled into the bank parking lot.
Peo
ple were everywhere. Downtown Geneva hopped not unlike Times Square on New Year’s Eve, on a much smaller scale, of course.
“You don’t think this goon is following us, do you?”
“I would have picked up on it. I think. I mean, I hope. I guess I am a bit rusty.” Mac put the car in park then scanned the area around them.
“I am sure all is well, Mac. You would have seen him.” Millie looked around too. They were both paranoid.
There was no goon in a big black car anywhere.
Mac looked at Millie and shrugged. They both let out a laugh.
“Let’s head to Fanucci’s then procure a spot for the tree lighting ceremony.” Mac opened his car door then grabbed his cane.
“I did take a look at the Fanucci’s accounts, and they certainly have enough money to make Patricia a decent offer.” Millie followed Mac.
The restaurant was only a block away, and they were a block east of Third Street and away from most of the crowds.
“Good to know. Hey, thanks for being such a good sport and helping me out.” Mac grabbed Millie’s hand as they walked.
“No problem. I have to admit, it’s kind of exciting.”
“I was hoping you didn’t think I was nuts and so wanted to be a cop again that I was making something out of nothing with Patricia’s death. I just knew something wasn’t right,” Mac said.
“No, I’m glad I’m able to help. You still have your instincts, and those instincts helped save lives. I did worry a little bit earlier in the day. I will be honest.”
“Understandably so. And of all days for this to happen, it’s the day we go to your parents’ house. They were great by the way. Both of them. Really. Your mom is hilarious, and I loved listening to your dad.”
“They are great. I think they liked you.” Millie squeezed Mac’s hand.
“Good. Good. Okay here we are.”
Fanucci’s fine dining establishment lay ahead. A line formed out the door as their Christmas Walk reservations filled rather quickly. Mac and Millie did not plan on eating any dinner.
The Christmas Walk Caper Page 4