BLINDED (Elkridge Series Book 1)

by Lyz Kelley

Mara’s nose flared. “Hmm. Mint, possibly cumin and vanilla, a little cardamom, and an overtone of bergamot and sandalwood. Very common. Jean Paul Gaultier cologne perhaps, Ernie? Yet…the vanilla is too pronounced. I’m thinking an Asian knockoff, but close.”

  “That’s unbelievable.”

  “Bacon, eggs, and I bet hash browns for breakfast, but only because I smell ketchup.”

  Joey’s chuckle gave permission for a victory smile to crease the corners of her mouth.

  “Okay. I’ll allow her in, but don’t let her touch anything. Joey, you know the drill. Get some gloves from one of the deputies inside. Oh, and I should tell you, that truck over there matches the tire prints at Sam’s place, and we found several wads of gum, just like you said.”

  “Good work, Ernie. Thank your guys for the follow up.”

  Mara inwardly laughed at the lack of Joey’s sincerity. She extended her arm sideways to make sure Joey was still standing close. “Thanks, Ernie.”

  She wrapped her fingers around Joey’s bicep, feeling the warmth and appreciating the comfort.

  Joey helped her climb the steep steps of the mobile home trailer.

  “Stay close. There’s a lot of trash on the floor. I think the best place to start is in the bedroom and then work our way to the front.”

  At the smell of rotting food, she covered her nose and mouth with one hand. The buzzing insects made her glad she couldn’t see. Mark. What happened to you? Gone was the neat, fearless boy who laughed easily and had dreams of starting a marketing firm. He’d gone to L.A. to make it big. Big wasn’t what he achieved.

  “Do you know how long he’s been in town?” she asked Joey.

  He leaned closer. “Not yet. Mark called his dad last night to say he was sorry. His cell phone happened to have one of those trackers and allowed deputies to trace the call to this mobile home. Unfortunately, he was found too late. When I called earlier, Ernie told me they found his mom’s diamond bracelet, so I guess we know who robbed the Walters’ house during the funeral.”

  The news stopped her breath. “The Mark I knew had a temper when he drank, but he wouldn’t have stolen anything. Something in L.A. must have changed him.”

  “Stay here. Let me get you one of his shirts.”

  The snap of latex and the squeak of a floorboard was followed by a sense of bitter cold air. What sounded like pine needles tapped against a window, created a picture in her mind. She sensed movement.

  “Here, take a sniff of this shirt.”

  Overtones of human musk combined with mint, and something else—something sour, almost rancid, like cat pee or vinegar—surrounded her, then undertones of pizza and possibly motor oil. Her stomach lurched and her throat closed off.

  No cigarettes.

  “It wasn’t him. He’s not who was stalking me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. The man following me into the grocery store smelled like cigarettes, licorice and marijuana. Mark sliced your tires, but he’s not the one who was following me.”

  “I’ll make sure to have all the shoes here bagged and tested for prints to see if they match any from the cabin.”

  Mara hated hearing the disappointment, but she didn’t want to give any of the deputies false hope. “I also don’t think he shot Sam, either. The facts don’t line up.”

  “What are you talking about? Mark meets the profile.” The agitation in Joey’s tone caused her to proceed more cautiously.

  “Does he? Mark didn’t like guns. He hated when my dad talked about hunting. Whoever shot Sam was an expert shot and based on the fact you told me the car door left only a narrow gap for the shooter to hit his target.”

  “Sometimes people change, Mara.”

  “I know that, but I’m still not convinced Mark is Sam’s killer.”

  “Let’s get you out of here. Would you mind waiting in the car for a bit?” Joey’s distancing politeness in his voice seemed wrong on many levels. “Here, take my arm.”

  “You don’t believe me.” Mara pulled her arm back.

  “It’s not a matter of not believing you. I’ve been doing investigative work for a long time, Mara.”

  “Then, if you are as good a detective as you believe, look at the facts. I know you want to believe you’ve caught Sam’s killer. It would be mighty convenient if Mark were the thief-stalker-killer all wrapped up in one. But then what happens when this town lets its guard down and the bad-guys are still out there?”

  He guided her hand to his elbow and dodged her question. Her frustration made her feet grow roots and twine around the floorboards. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me you will at least look at the facts again.”

  “I’m looking at the facts right now. There are two rifles, a handgun, and enough ammunition in this place to rob a bank. The ammunition is the correct caliber. I’m sure there are more firearms hidden, but that’s just what I see.”

  “Fine. There are weapons. Over thirty percent of Coloradans own guns. I suggest you dig deeper. Find out who owns this place, because for me, it’s not adding up. Mark might have made bad choices. Most likely someone in L.A. dangled dollars in front of him, and he was too naïve to know the dollars came at a price. He’s not a murderer. Time may prove me wrong, but my gut tells me he’s not your guy.”

  Joey led her through a narrow corridor to the front door and then to the rental car. “We’ll let the deputies determine whether or not he killed Sam.”

  “So now you trust the deputies to do a proper investigation?”

  “What is it you want me to say? That you’re right? Fine. You’re right.”

  Sheer sympathy for Joey sobered her thoughts. She stopped and turned to him. “I don’t want to be right. More than anything, I wish…I…”

  He leaned closer to her ear. “I wish you could have seen Ernie’s face when you told him what cologne he was wearing. It reminded me of a guy soliciting a prostitute caught with his pants around his ankles.”

  “Let’s just hope Ernie does a proper investigation this time. Otherwise, he’s going to look like one of those middle-aged idiots who can’t keep his do-dads in his pants.”

  “Do-dads?”

  His light chuckle made heat stream from her chest, up her neck and across her cheeks to her ears. “You know what I mean.”

  He opened the car door for her. “About this morning.”

  Mara’s fingers tightened around the door handle. “Let’s not complicate things and, instead, focus on one thing at a time. And, if you don’t mind, I’d like to find some food. I never did get to make those pancakes.”

  “Food. Right. I don’t suppose a smashed protein bar sounds appetizing. I have one in my computer bag, but I’m warning you, the bar could have been in there awhile.”

  Mara waved her hand in front of her face to get rid of the thought and scrunched her nose. “I was thinking more in the lines of banana cream pie.”

  Laughter released the blazing tension. “I like the way you think. Will you be all right for a second? I just want to follow up with Ernie.”

  “Stop worrying about me. Tony does enough worrying and suffering for everyone.”

  He planted a quick peck on her cheek, and shut the car door. A surge of fear gripped her body. Her stalker was still out there. Was he watching her now? Laughing? What was she going to do? Joey wasn’t going to be around to protect her.

  He was leaving.

  She was no longer safe.

  More importantly, what the heck was she going to tell Tony?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Joey opened the car, slid behind the wheel and leaned into Mara. “I’m tempted to kiss you right now.” Joey brushed his lips over the tip of her ear.

  “Not here,” Mara hissed. “You have no idea what it’s like having an entire town who have decided to take Tony and I under their protection.”

  “It can’t be that bad.”

  “Think of your parents times fifty. I have to live with these people after you leave tomorrow.”
She turned to fasten her seatbelt.

  Tomorrow. He didn’t want to think about tomorrow when she was right beside him today. Not letting her outmaneuver him, Joey put a finger under her chin and softly guided her head towards him. “Then where?”

  “You are tenacious, Gaccione.”

  When she shivered, he put the keys in the ignition to turn on the heat. “Tenacious. That’s a mighty fine word, and yes, madam, I am.”

  “I don’t think we should complicate things.”

  “What’s so complicated? It’s just you and me. I was hoping we could talk about next steps.”

  “You’re joking, right?” Mara shifted toward him. “Your boss wants you back in Seattle. Besides, what would your mother say?”

  “My mother happens to be a fan of yours. She even came to hear you sing,” he countered with such vehemence, he hoped she got the message.

  The theme from American Gigolo began playing, then grew louder, and louder, and louder.

  “Answer your phone.”

  “I’d rather talk about us.”

  “Answer your phone, Joey,” Mara insisted.

  “Hey, Ma,” Joey sighed, wanting to bang his head on the steering wheel. “Dinner celebration? I don’t think—yes, Ma. Six o’clock. I’ll ask. Ma, I said I’ll ask. I don’t know if she has any food allergies. Geez. Enough, already. Okay. ’Bye.”

  He dropped his phone into the middle console and then gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “My mother would like to extend you an invitation to come to the restaurant tonight. I should warn you. She won’t take no for an answer.”

  “I heard the word celebration. Your mom must think you found Sam’s killer.”

  His hands tightened around the steering wheel. “I’m not so sure.”

  “The rumor mill is more efficient than you think. Joey, I’m scared people are going to let their guard down. Not be as careful.”

  That old gut swirling action started again. “Sometimes it’s a good thing to be oblivious.”

  “It’s not good to live stupid. I heard something about six o’clock. When is that? I’ve lost track of time today.”

  “It’s a bit past three now.”

  She tipped her head at a ten-degree angle, an angle saying I’m thinking, and stared straight ahead. He wished he could read thoughts the way she read smells.

  “I bet my not coming to dinner would be easier, less complicated, and would require less explanation. We’re two smart people. We should be able to generate a feasible excuse your mom will accept.”

  “I would rather you come.” Joey reached over and threaded his fingers through hers. “However, my family can be overwhelming. I’m not sure who will be at More Than Meatballs, maybe us plus my parents, or the whole mob. The way I figure it, you can be properly reintroduced to the family tonight, or the next time I’m in town. S’up to you.”

  “When’s that? Ten years from now?”

  “I was thinking a little bit sooner than that. The fact is, I like Buddy, and I think he likes me. I’m hoping to find out if you’re okay with having another male in your life. Buddy and I are both loyal. I, however, promise not to chew on your shoes, wake you at five o’clock in the morning to go out, or knock your mom’s vase on the floor with my tail. Sure, our relationship will be long distance,” for now, “but I promise to call, and schedule some real vacation time this coming summer. What do you say?”

  “I’m not sure this is a good idea. Long-distance relationships with no future plans are difficult. I’m not the typical girl you’d bring home to Mom.”

  Or marry, he heard her think but not say. No, she sure wasn’t. Who wanted ordinary when spirited, determined and courageous was available?

  “It’s not like my family doesn’t know you. Both my parents invited you to dinner. The invitation’s genuine. Tell you what, I’ll drop you off so you can change if you want, and I’ll pick you up around five-thirty. If you’re uncomfortable once we’re there, just tell me, and I’ll walk you home. The restaurant is only a couple of blocks from your store. How’s that sound?”

  Her face puckered in thought. The urge to persuade, and the inclination to avoid pushing his preference, battled against each other until finally her head turned toward him. “I’d like to go, but I want to make sure I won’t be an embarrassment.”

  “You are never an embarrassment. At least not to me.”

  “Dinner would give me the chance to make another bouquet for your mom.”

  “So you’ll go?” Joey leaned in and planted a kiss on her cheek.

  Her hand lifted and caressed the spot. “You know, Joey, I figured you as a perfectionist. The type of guy who never considered an A-paper or a five-minute mile or three perfect bull’s-eyes good enough. I have to tell you, that kiss was rather lame.”

  “Is that so? I thought you didn’t want people to see us kiss.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  “Then, Ms. Dijocomo, I suggest you bring your face closer and prepare yourself.”

  Mara went still. Pensive. Curious. Anticipating. She leaned in. He smiled just before his lips touched hers. He tasted. He savored. He deepened the kiss. When he forced his lips from hers, he opened his eyes to an expression of wonderment.

  “And what do you think now?” he asked.

  “I think you need to practice.”

  “Practice?” He savored the taste on his lips.

  “Yep, a lot.”

  “I think you’re right. It’s going to take a great deal of practice. I think we should start now.”

  He leaned in, but her hand pressed against his chest. “I think you need to get me home so we can get to the restaurant on time.”

  He released a pithy sigh. He’d rather be kissing Mara than eating, or just about anything else—like getting on the plane in less than twenty-four hours.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Mara preceded Joey through the door of his family’s restaurant and stopped just inside.

  The warmth of his hand pressed against the small of her back sent a sizzling spark up her spine, overloading the signals in her brain. The realization that she and Joey seemed to be on a real meet-the-parents type date tugged on her like a whirling, up-and-down amusement park ride, titillating, yet nerve-racking, all at the same time.

  She automatically reached for Buddy before remembering she’d again given him the day off. The dog seemed exhausted from the past day’s events, and she could always use walking stick practice. Mara worked to calm her fluttering heart and held a large bundle of flowers in front of her, like a shield, yet at the same time offering peace.

  “It’s going to be okay, I promise,” he whispered. He weaved through the open tables to the back room just off the kitchen, reserved for special occasions or family dinners. “Hello-oo, we’re here.”

  A honey-bee hum of voices from the back room migrated toward them like a swarm. Shouts of “Uncle Joey!” preceded the pounding of several pairs of little feet. Joey stepped slightly ahead of Mara to ward off the gathering ambush.

  “Ma, you remember Mara.” Joey reached back to put a comforting hand between Mara’s shoulder blades and eased her forward a bit.

  “Welcome. Welcome. Look at you. You’re all grown up. And so beautiful.”

  Optimism pressed Mara to lean in. “I—”

  “We came to hear you sing the other night.” Mrs. Gaccione’s scaling tone, climbing higher and higher, kept up the pace with her words. “You touched my heart.”

  “Well, I—”

  “And you brought my favorite flowers. How lovely.” His mother hauled Mara into a hug, and she felt like a beloved stuffed toy being squeezed by a two-year-old. Her arms splayed, and she didn’t know exactly what to do. His mother released her and turned to him. “Joey, didn’t I teach you better manners? Take her coat and get her something to drink, and don’t you dare leave her alone with your sisters, or they’ll talk her ear off.”

  She laughed, trying to figure out what to do next. Her
forehead creased in concentration as the family presented themselves one-by-one.

  “Dad.” Joey’s body turned.

  “Well done, son. I knew you would do it. You found your brother’s killer.”

  Joey’s body stiffened, and he coughed out his trepidation. “Dad, all the evidence hasn’t been processed. There’s still a possibility Mark isn’t the killer.”

  “We will know soon enough.” While Mr. Gaccione’s words had appeared perfectly civil, a tacit displeasure rumbled through the room. “Come. Let’s sit down.”

  Mara squeezed his hand, hoping to provide some support.

  “I almost forgot.” Joey reached for the package he’d hidden in the inside of his coat. “This is for you, Ma.”

  “For me?” The ripping of wrapping paper sounded like a child opening a Christmas present. “Oh, my. A sexy hot-pink apron. Look, girls. Are those little flowers? Thank you, Joey. I needed a new apron.”

  “Well done.” Pia whispered over her shoulder into Joey’s ear.

  “Let’s find you a place to sit,” Joey suggested. “Can I get you something? Looks like dinner is going to be buffet style.”

  Mara placed her hand on his arm. “Water would be nice.”

  “I’ll get it,” Sophia offered.

  Mara turned her head. “Thank you, Sophia. That’s very kind of you.”

  “I don’t know how you identify people so easily.” The amazement in his voice gave her a sweet feeling of satisfaction.

  He escorted her to the far side of the table. Walking past the food, Mara heard Anna, Joey’s youngest sister, giggling with her silly friends, but couldn’t quite catch the conversation.

  “Ready for circus hour at the Gacciones’?” he asked, guiding her hand to the nearest chair.

  “Sounds wonderful. And the smell, it’s heavenly.” She tucked the folded stick under her arm and let him lead her forward.

  “Let’s get some food.”

  Camilla, and possibly Franco were engaged in a heated debate about Mark’s parents. She turned slightly. “I wish people wouldn’t be so hard on the Walters. They had nothing to do with how Mark turned out.”