Killer Cannoli (A Terrified Detective Mystery Book 2)

by Carole Fowkes

  His voice was so full of concern it warmed me enough to remove my jacket. “No. Well, yes. My aunt wants me to drop the case.”

  He released a deep breath. “Best news I’ve had all day. Wait. Does she know about the threat?”

  “No, and I don’t want her to know.”

  “Okay, for now.” His official cop voice kicked in. “Anything else?”

  “Well, now that I’m off the case, I’m taking you up on your invitation.” I winced. I was going for a flirty tone, but it fell as flat as a prepubescent girl’s chest.

  “Great. How about tomorrow night?”

  Once I agreed, he chuckled. “It’s good we won’t have Corozza’s murder case hanging over us.”

  “I suppose.”

  He couldn’t leave it at that. “Glad you’re leaving it to the professionals.”

  I tapped my foot. “As opposed to the amateurs?”

  “I meant people who know what they’re doing.”

  I pounded my fist against my thigh. “If you recall, I did solve the Adler case.”

  He snorted, “Just beginner’s luck. You nearly got killed, and look what happened to Ed.”

  I squeezed the phone like it was his neck, took a deep breath and said super-politely, “You know that date we made? Forget it.” I ended the call, fuming.

  My phone rang once more. Thinking it was Corrigan wanting to stick his foot in his mouth again, I almost let it go into voicemail. But it was Alex, who couldn’t have called at a better time. I took a deep, calming breath and tried to relax. “Hello.”

  “Claire, how are you?”

  I felt better by the minute. “Just marvelous.” I pushed my hair behind my ears. “And you?”

  “Good. Glad I got hold of you.”

  “Me too.” I pressed my hand against my chest. Be cool. “Sometimes things get crazy with me.”

  We made small talk until my father came outside to see why I was taking so long. He gave me that familiar look I’ve seen since I was a child. It said, “Whatever you’re doing, wrap it up.”

  I reacted like a kid who’s afraid her phone privileges would be rescinded. “Alex, it’s been great talking to you, but I have to go.”

  “Not before you agree to have dinner with me. Is tomorrow night too soon?”

  I held up my index finger for my dad to wait a minute then responded to Alex. “It’s perfect.” If I’d gushed any more, I’d be knee-deep in water.

  My father pointed to his watch, but I ignored him.

  Alex asked, “How about 8:00? Where should I pick you up?”

  “My office is fine.” After verifying my address, we ended the call with the usual niceties.

  I must have been grinning like a cat locked in a fish market. My dad half-smiled and asked, “Going out with Corrigan? He’s a good guy.”

  I refused to let the thought of that person break into my euphoria. “No, it’s someone else. A friend of a friend. His name is Alex.”

  My father nodded once. “Just be careful. Maybe do a background check.”

  “I already did. He’s a CPA and there’s nothing to be concerned with.” I had a twinge of fear, wondering who he worked the books for.

  Dad rubbed my neck affectionately. “That’s my girl.”

  I led the way back into the kitchen where Ed was holding court, telling Aunt Lena and Angie a story that had both of them giggling. I didn’t know Ed could be so charming.

  My aunt noticed me first. “What was so important you were out there so long?”

  My father winked at me. “She had to make some business calls.” He clapped his hands together. “So what needs to be done now?”

  Chapter Eleven

  The rest of the day into night whooshed by in a flurry of customers, many expressing appreciation for Cannoli’s reopening. Some old-time patrons asked me to give Lena their condolences regarding Larry’s unfortunate choice of location for his demise.

  Once we closed Cannoli’s for the day, Dad and Ed cleaned up the dining room while Angie, Aunt Lena and I worked in the kitchen. Angie and my aunt had been shooting verbal poison arrows at each other all night, making for a tense room.

  At last, Aunt Lena took in a deep breath like she planned to blow Angie down. The two women glared at each other and I was afraid this would turn into an all-out battle, using rolling pins and pastry cutters. Instead, my aunt let out a deep throaty laugh that ended in a snort. She bent over, gasping for air and laughing at the same time.

  Angie struggled not to join in, but she succumbed and between giggles, pointed at my aunt and said, “You’re a pistol, Lena. I give up.” Their high spirits filled the room. I couldn’t resist their mirth and even joined in, until my dad and Ed entered.

  “Kitchen work that funny?” Dad asked.

  Angie wiped laughter tears from her eyes. “Sometimes.”

  Ten minutes later, Angie grabbed her jacket and slung her purse over her shoulder. “If it’s all right by everyone, I’m going home. Ed, if there’s another one like you, I want to meet him.”

  Ed puffed out his chest. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  When everything was locked down tight, my dad checked his watch. “Pumpkin, I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to look at cars today.” He held up his hand like he was being sworn in as President of the United States. “I promise we’ll go tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Did Tommy give you an estimate for fixing my car yet?”

  He frowned. “Thing would cost more in repairs than it’s worth. You need another car. After lunch we’ll look. Okay?”

  My eyes met my aunt’s and I remembered my promise to be at Cannoli’s for her. She nodded her okay and I said, “Yeah. We can leave from here.”

  “Good.” He rubbed his lower back. “Lena, I’m bushed. Let’s go.”

  Ed helped my aunt on with her sweater and said, “I’ll drive her.”

  Aunt Lena tilted her head coquettishly.

  My father’s eyebrows knitted, but he didn’t argue. I spoke up, though. “Okay, but don’t stop anywhere. I mean, it’s late…” My voice disappeared into the land of the uncomfortable.

  My aunt squeezed my chin. “You’re turning into me. Don’t worry. We’ll behave. Won’t we, Ed?”

  He winked at Aunt Lena and a wicked smile crossed his face. “Depends on how frisky you get riding in my chariot.”

  Aunt Lena giggled, but I shot Ed a look I hoped would freeze any non-essential moving part on his body.

  When Ed and Aunt Lena left, my father shrugged. “Claire, Ed’s okay and at least he’ll take Lena’s mind off Joey’s murder.”

  “I know. As long as he doesn’t hurt her.”

  Dad snorted. “You mean by lying about who he is and getting a bullet in his back at her restaurant?” He put his arm around my shoulders. “Come on. I’ll lock up and see if we beat Lena and Ed home.”

  We didn’t. They were waiting for us in Ed’s car. Their windows had steamed up but I pushed aside any suspicion of how they got that way.

  We all said our goodnights around midnight, with me promising my aunt I’d be at Cannoli’s by 10:00 the next morning.

  Afterwards, I lay in bed, slipping in and out of a light sleep but someone pounding at my front door brushed the web of drowsiness away.

  “Claire, it’s Brian. Corrigan.”

  My head buzzed with annoyance mixed with worry. “Coming.” Throwing on an old sweatshirt, I rushed to the door, tripping on the shoes I’d taken off last night. I lunged forward and banged my head on the door.

  “What’s going on in there?” Corrigan threw his weight against the door. “Police. Open up.”

  I regained my balance and swung open the door. He fell into me, knocking us both over, him on top.

  Breathless, he asked, “Are you okay?”

  “I will be when you get off me.”

  He smirked and didn’t move. “But this way I can keep an eye on you.”

  I pushed him off. “What do you want?”

  “The guy you met wi
th at Cicarelli’s, Albert Valcone is dead. Murdered.”

  “You think it has to do with Joey Corozza?”

  He scratched his forehead. “It’s a strong coincidence. Joey was on the run and Valcone had close ties to Bucanetti, the big man in Newark. We believe Valcone had done some other ‘favors’ for the guy in the past, but nothing we could make stick.”

  My tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth. “So Valcone killed Joey and then Bucanetti killed Valcone?”

  Corrigan nodded. “We found his gun and according to ballistics, the bullets match the one found in Joey Corozza. “My theory is, Valcone offed Joey and then got himself killed. But we don’t know who killed him. Valcone was bloodied up pretty good before he died and his place was tossed. Whoever murdered him was looking for something. If Bucanetti did it, he probably wanted to cover his tracks.”

  “But if Valcone murdered for Bucanetti earlier, why kill him over a hit on a small-time hood like Joey?” I snapped my fingers. “Unless he thought Valcone had Joey’s list. And wanted it back and destroyed.”

  If Corrigan had been a dog, his ears would’ve stood straight up. “What list? Are you holding something back?”

  I waved his first question away. My mind was popping with theories. “The killer, probably Valcone, tried to get into Cannoli’s after he shot Joey, probably looking for something. But he didn’t get in, right? So that means he didn’t find what he wanted when he first killed Joey. Although, maybe he did when he ransacked Joey’s place.”

  Corrigan tapped his foot. “Okay, so maybe he found something, maybe he didn’t. But how do you know there was a list? And a list of what?”

  I mused aloud. “Maybe Valcone wanted a bigger paycheck and withheld the list from Bucanetti. Instead of paying him off, though, Bucanetti kills him.”

  Corrigan ran his fingers through his hair. “You still haven’t answered me about the list. What do you know about a list?”

  “I don’t.” I hesitated. “Maybe it’s not a list, but it’s something. Evidence of some sort, a ledger, maybe a confession. Before he died, Joey told Aunt Lena he had insurance.”

  The light dawned in Corrigan’s eyes as he got on my wavelength. “So something on Bucanetti.”

  “But what if Bucanetti didn’t find what he wanted?” I cupped my hands over my mouth, when I realized Aunt Lena could be next on the hit list. A wave of nausea rolled through me. “Can you have someone watch out for my aunt?” I knew his answer before he said it and I felt even sicker.

  He turned as solemn as someone about to give a eulogy. “We’re stretched so thin and nobody’s threatened her so it’ll be hard getting man hour approval. But I’ll keep an eye on her as much as I can. And see if she knows anything more about Corozza’s insurance plan.”

  I needed to sit down, feeling myself being sucked back into the case. “I’ll make sure she stays with my dad and if she does need to go home, someone’s with her.”

  “Good. And if anything, I mean, anything seems suspicious call 911.”

  I nodded not trusting myself to speak.

  He sat down beside me and tenderly placed his thumb under my lowered chin, lifting it until my eyes met his blue ones. “I’m sorry it’s going down this way, Claire. I’ll get whoever’s behind this. I swear.”

  A grateful upturn of the corners of my mouth was all I could manage. He leaned in and so softly, kissed me.

  Sensors went off in my brain, screaming, “Danger ahead.” This wasn’t the time to let myself turn marshmallowy. I needed to focus on keeping my aunt safe and reluctantly pulled away.

  He screwed up his face. “Bad timing?”

  I stared down at my hands like that’d make this easier.

  He pulled himself up and headed to the door. “Gotta head out anyway. Bad guys to catch.” With his hand on the knob he added, “Call me if you need me—for anything.”

  My brain screamed with a thousand pleas for him to stay. Instead I looked away.

  He hesitated then once more turned my face toward his. After quickly studying my face he asked, “So do you want to go on that date we talked about?”

  My eyes opened wide. Besides the concern over my aunt, I already had a date for tonight.

  Misinterpreting my worry over two dates in one night he didn’t give me a chance to say anything. “I get it. You really do want to wait until this case is solved. In which case, I better catch the sonofabitch fast.” He smiled wryly. “Or is it something I said? You never really responded when I asked you that before.”

  I could have given him a list of comments and insults, but I had neither the inclination nor the time. My emotions were too volatile and another disagreement with him at that moment would likely have had me shouting things I’d regret. “Let’s talk about it afterwards. Okay?”

  To my relief he agreed. Once he left, my fears marched right back and I knew they’d be staying a while. I jumped when my phone rang. Immediately my brain went to Aunt Lena and Dad in trouble, but it was Corrigan. Again.

  “Claire, I almost forgot about that newspaper copy someone slipped you. No prints and nothing traceable with the paper or photocopy. Sorry.”

  “Me too, but thanks.”

  “Well, then. Be careful.” He hung up.

  I rubbed my face hard, wondering if I had any chocolate stashed in my place. Nothing settles my stomach and helps me think like that melty, sweet stuff. I blotted everything else out of my mind as I began my treasure hunt. I finally settled on a bag of Nestle’s chocolate chips, ripped it open and paced as I devoured a handful.

  My fingers covered in chocolate flecks, I wrestled with how to handle Joey’s case. Do I tell my aunt I’m back on it and why? Sure, and get her as frightened as me. I took a few more chips and decided Ed was the only one who needed to know.

  Wiping my hands, I hoped I’d made the right decision. I made another important one while getting ready to go to Cannoli’s. For this last one, I grabbed my gun.

  Chapter Twelve

  I called Ed on my way to the restaurant.

  “What’s up, kiddo?”

  “How’d you like to help me catch Joey’s killer?” I filled him in on Valcone’s murder.

  He whistled. “And the body count rises. What do you need?”

  “Your friend who had that picture of Joey, Valcone and Bucanetti? Could you dig deeper with him and see if he knows the last time Bucanetti and Valcone talked?” My voice rose as another thought hit me. “And if you can, ask him if he knows anything about a guy named Gus Alino.”

  “Big if’s, but I’ll ask.” He paused. “You gonna tell Lena you’re working this again?”

  My throat tightened thinking of it. “No, I can’t.”

  “I’d keep my mouth shut about it too. But if the killer is looking for something, Lena probably needs protection. Someone more than your father. No disrespect intended.”

  “Like I don’t know that.” Instant remorse for snapping. “Sorry, Ed. This has me so upset…”

  “It’s okay.” A car door slammed. “I’m at work now. Gotta go, but I’ll buzz you later.”

  I pulled up to Cannoli’s. Dad’s car was there so at least my aunt wasn’t by herself. But how much could my father, a middle-aged man, do against a gun? I shook my head hard to get rid of any heartbreaking visions of my dad lying hurt or even dead, trying to protect my aunt.

  Inside, my dad kissed my cheek. “Hi, pumpkin.” He whispered, “Tell Lena no.”

  “Huh?”

  Before Dad could explain, Aunt Lena walked into the kitchen carrying a plastic tub full of dirty dishes. She set it down on the stainless steel counter. “You’re early, but that’s good. I want your opinion.”

  My eyes shifted to my father, who shook his head surreptitiously.

  “What is it?”

  “I want to go home again. Your father says I shouldn’t yet. What do you think?”

  “It’s a bad idea.”

  She put her hands on her abundant hips. “Why? Cops didn’t see anyone trying to
break in. I’ll be fine.”

  I blurted out, “If you’re tired of staying with Dad, you can stay with me.”

  Her eyebrow arched. “All of a sudden you got room?”

  I shrugged, trying to look enthusiastic. “It’ll be cozy and a change of scenery for you.”

  Her eyes narrowed, like she wasn’t buying it, but the bell on the bakery door rang. Customers. “I’ll take care of them.” With her hand on the swinging door leading to the dining area she added, “But this discussion isn’t over.”

  Alone with my dad, I updated him on the case, including my thoughts about Aunt Lena’s safety. I purposely left out the part about my resuming my role as PI. He didn’t need to worry about me.

  He shook his head in disbelief. “And the cops won’t give her any protection?”

  I explained what Corrigan had told me.

  He pounded his fist on the counter. “Then Lena stays at my house.”

  My aunt burst back into the kitchen before I could say another word. “Frank, we got five more customers. Come out front.”

  “I’ll help, Dad.” I grabbed an apron and, in a whirl, we were out of the kitchen.

  The day sped by until I realized if I didn’t leave at that moment, I wouldn’t be able to clean up for my date. My aunt still hadn’t given me an answer. I pulled her away from her mixing bowl. “I need to know where you’re staying.”

  Then it hit me. Guilt. Every Italian woman knew how to use guilt to their advantage. It’s in their blood. My turn to try it. “You know, Dad and I’ve been so busy helping you here, we haven’t had time to look for a car. If you go home, you’ll need yours. What’ll I do until we’re able to go get me a new one?” I tried to look helpless, but maybe that was pouring it on too thick.

  Aunt Lena frowned. “Of course you have to have my car. I’ll stay with Frank for now.” Then she stuck her chin out. “But I gotta go home sometime.”

  I hugged her. “I know.”

  She pushed back from me. “You better talk to your father about shopping for a car soon.”

  My dad had heard it all. “Yeah, we’ll go tomorrow, Claire. Promise.”

  “Okay.”

  She reached for her purse and pulled out a small black prayer book. “I’m saying a novena that you drive safely. And that you don’t get any parking tickets.”