by Ring, Ginger
“You know you can trust me.” He pointed to his badge.
“All I know is that I’ve had a school crush on you for way too long,” Valentina confessed. “It’s time to grow up.”
He glanced down at her bare feet “We’re not in school anymore.”
“No, we’re not.” She reached behind him and pulled open the door. “Thanks again for driving me home. Good night, Officer Ryan.”
He put on his hat but wasn’t ready to leave just yet. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Good night.” This time she gave him a shove, but at least there was a smile on her face.
“Okay, but lock your door behind me.” He stepped outside. “And if you hear anything or need anything, just give me a call and I’ll be back in a flash.”
“That won’t be necessary.” She pulled the screen door shut.
“I’m serious. Two women have been killed in less than a week.”
The smile died on her lips. “I have a gun and Roman sent me a text that a couple of the guys would be here soon.”
“Maybe I’d better wait until they get here.” The words had barely left his mouth when a dark SUV pulled up out front. The mob squad was here. It killed him to leave but Valentina would be better protected than just about everyone else in Genoa. She had a private security team courtesy of her brother or father any time she needed it.
The woman was basically mafia royalty, if there was such a thing. A knot started to from in his gut, or maybe it was an ulcer. He was an officer of the law and he was standing on the front porch of the daughter of a crime boss. There was no place in this world that a relationship with her would work out, but he was going to make it come true.
“I guess I’m not needed, then.” The words had barely left his mouth before he felt the sweet touch of her lips on his cheek.
“The whole town needs you.” Valentina stepped back and her cheeks were pink. “Thanks again for looking out for me.”
“I’ll still pay for that window,” he insisted.
She reached for the door and half stood behind it. “Just prove that your intentions toward me are honorable. That’s all I ask. I don’t give a darn about the window.”
“You’ve got a deal.” Ryan waited until she closed the door and he heard the click of the lock before leaving.
On the way to his car, he stopped at the black vehicle and knocked on the window to make sure it was really Roman’s men. Once the dark window came down, he relaxed when he recognized them. It was a given that they were hired killers, but so far none of this group had done anything to cause any problems. In fact, they seemed to keep things a little quieter. No one wanted to be on the bad side of the Caponellis.
Ryan got in his squad car and started the engine. He should be tired after such a long day, but he was pumped with energy. Having a killer on the loose had him on edge. Thinking about Valentina wouldn’t get him any rest either. There was no sense in going home just yet.
Even though he was off duty, he drove around town to check for things that didn’t belong. As he turned down one street, his headlights caught the reflection of a slow-moving vehicle. It was Lucky Bauer. He was sixty years old, looked like he was ninety, and had been married eight times. The nickname Lucky could be taken many different ways, but his luck ran out a few years ago when he hit a mailbox and lost his driver’s license after too many DUIs.
Ryan pulled along the guy’s riding lawnmower and lowered his window. “Lucky, isn’t it a little too late to be out and about?”
“What’s it to you? I’m not breaking any laws.” It had been Ryan’s misfortune to be the arresting officer at the mail box incident. The man had blamed him for his loss of driving independence ever since.
“I’m just concerned about someone coming along, not seeing you, and running you over.”
“Well, you’d be the only one,” the man mumbled.
“Can I give you lift? It’s getting cold out.” No one should be out at night driving a lawnmower through town.
“Nah, I’ve only got a couple more blocks to go.”
“All right, Lucky, but I’m going to follow along so people can see you.”
“Do what you want.” The man shrugged him off but Ryan could tell he seemed grateful. Despite all the marriages, the guy had no family to speak of. He let him get ahead and pulled over to the side of the street. The car’s headlights helped guide the way. Four blocks down, Lucky pulled into his driveway and waved as Ryan drove by.
Everything seemed quiet in this part of town, so he headed toward the strip mall area. All the businesses were closed but light shone through the brown paper covering the windows of a vacant store just past the cluster of shops in the strip mall. He parked in front of the store, looked around the parking lot, and got out of the car.
Peeking through a spot where the paper had fallen back, he spied the shadow of movement coming from a back room. He went over and knocked on the front door. No one answered. He knocked again. “Anyone in there?” he hollered. “Can you open the door, please?” Still nothing. “It’s the police. Open up.”
Finally, someone shouted that they were coming.
The door opened and the last person he expected to see inside poked her face out.
“Arianne?” Ryan tried to see behind her. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh, it’s my new place.”
“Place for what? You opening a store?” There was plastic on the floor and a few boxes scattered around.
“I was thinking about opening a fitness center but it’s taking a bit longer than expected with the financing and all. I don’t have any equipment yet either.”
“I hear ya. Banks aren’t very eager to give out money these days.”
She put one shoulder on the doorframe and pulled the door tight to the other. “No, they aren’t.”
“Anyway, I saw the light on and thought I would just check and make sure no one was here that shouldn’t be.”
“I’m flattered that you’re looking out for me with that killer on the loose and all, but I assure you, I’m perfectly safe.”
“And what do you know about a killer on the loose?”
Her eyes got big. “Everyone knows about it. Crazy stuff. It’s all the talk. You can’t keep a secret in a small town. Who would do such a thing?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out.” Ryan leaned against the wall and surveyed the parking lot again. A plastic shopping bag skimmed across the blacktop before the wind picked it up and tossed it in a tree. He zipped his coat up a little higher.
“Feels cold enough to snow.”
“I’d invite you in but…” She nodded to the back of the store and winked.
“So you’re not alone?” Was this a meeting place for her and someone who didn’t want to be seen out in public?
“I’m never alone.” She wrapped a strand of hair around her finger.
“Well, I just wanted to make sure everything was good here.”
“Everything is good. Night, Officer.” Arianne shut the door and the lock clicked in place.
Taking a step away from the door, Ryan shivered. He hurried to his car and settled in the seat.
Was everyone hiding behind locked doors just like Arianne? The engine hummed to life and he warmed his hands by the vents. Fall had come too fast and now winter was trying to push its way in. He took one last drive around town. Danny waved as he passed her out on patrol. It was a given that she’d harass him next time she saw him about being on the job twenty-four hours a day.
His drive took him past Valentina’s home again. All was dark but it was comforting to see the glow of a cigarette in her bodyguard’s vehicle out front. He drove past her office to see if Dominic had finished the window. Her creepy, long-haired handyman was just testing the lock and it appeared to be pretty much done.
Keeping a low profile, Ryan drove the rest of the way down the street. All was quiet except for the antique store Danny and he were going
to check out tomorrow. He stopped a block away and turned off his lights. Inside, there was movement, but with all the stuff in the window it had been hard to see. Lack of sleep started to hit and he gave in to a yawn. Ryan leaned forward in the seat when he noticed the lights flick off in the store. Soon, a man exited. He was dressed in all black. He looked both ways down the sidewalk, locked and tested the door, and was clutching a money bag tightly to his chest. His collar up and head bent, the man hurried to a dark van parked across the street.
Damn. Ryan tapped the steering wheel with his fist. It was too far away to read the license plate but it was from out of state. He’d drive by tomorrow and get it. Hopefully, the vehicle would be in the same spot. After the van disappeared down the street, Ryan drove slowly by the store. It was called Bygones, and by God he would be back tomorrow to see what was going on and who that man was.
Chapter Fourteen
Despite everything going on, Ryan fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Danny had worked the night shift, so after changing into street clothes she made her way to the antique store the minute it opened. Her thoughts on the visit were that the guy was friendly enough but certainly didn’t go out of his way to help a customer. She said there were some very high-end antiquities in the shop but the rest were reproductions.
As Ryan drove by the van, which was parked in the same spot as the night before, he made a mental note of its plates and called them in as soon as he parked. Ryan spied a flower shop and made a detour to that store. The scent of roses hit him as soon as he entered.
“Can I help you, sir?” a friendly voice called out. She had green tape in one hand and some flowers in the other.
“Yes, are you the owner?” Her nametag said Ivy. He wondered if all of the employees were named after flowers.
Her face went white when she noticed the uniform. “Yes, is there a problem?” Everyone seemed to get nervous when cops were around. Ryan had once stopped someone for going through a traffic light and the guy had peed himself.
“No, nothing to worry about. I was just wondering if I could ask you a couple questions.”
“Sure.” She set the tape and flowers on the corner and wiped her hands on the apron she was wearing.
“Do you know who owns the antique store next door?” He gestured to her left wall.
“Personally? No. I’ve seen the guy come in in the morning but he rarely leaves before I do in the evening.”
“Never talked to him or even said hi?” He took out a notebook and pen to jot down anything important.
“When he first opened, I stopped over with a welcome plant. He thanked me but that was about it.”
“Do you know his name?”
Her face scrunched up. “Uh, Bob. No, wait. Rob. Edward.” She snapped her fingers. “Edward something or other.”
“Do you know where he’s from?”
Ivy put a hand on her hip. “Is he in trouble? Is this something I need to worry about?”
“No, just following up on something. No need to worry.”
“I heard about those murders. It’s frightening. I bought a gun.” The Aerosmith song “Janie’s Got a Gun” suddenly played in his head, only it was replaced with Ivy’s Got a Gun. It was hard to picture the petite flower girl toting a pistol, but he knew from talking to one of the guys at the gun shop that women were becoming his best customers.
“Yes, we are following up on all the leads but it is best to not be alone in the shop, and be sure to keep your doors locked at home and when you are closed here.”
“We do that already. Rose is in the back finishing up a bouquet.” Looked like he was right about the employees’ names. “So, do we need to be concerned about the guy next door?” she asked again.
“Not that we are aware of. Now, do you know where he’s from?”
“No.” She clicked her fingers. “He does have a Southern accent. Does that help?”
He jotted down Rhett Butler voice. “Thanks, you’ve been very helpful, Ivy.”
“Anytime.”
He turned to leave.
“Hey, Officer. We have roses on sale today. Can we send something to a lady friend of yours?”
Ten minutes and fifty dollars later, Ryan left the flower shop and entered Bygones. A brass bell above the door announced his arrival.
Who appeared to be the same man in black as last night glanced up from some books on his counter and then quickly returned to studying them.
“Morning,” Ryan said as he approached the man. “Are you the owner?”
The guy was about his height, had salt and pepper hair, and a pair of reading glasses on the end of his nose. He looked to be in his late forties. “Yes, can I help you?” He pinched the glasses between the lenses and placed them on the counter.
“Do you have any old-fashioned flour sack towels? You know, the ones with the days of the week on them?”
“Yes, follow me.” Ryan noticed a business card by the cash register. He read the name Edward Davis and stuffed one in his pocket.
“Is this you on the card? Are you Edward?”
“Yes, this is my shop,” the man said over his shoulder.
Ryan trailed him through the packed store. There were a lot of shelves stacked with knickknacks, books, and some other things that he had no idea what they were.
“Here they are. These are vintage but we also sell reproductions.”
Ryan felt the material of both—the new ones were stiff while the vintage towels were silky and a brighter white. “Do you sell a lot of these?”
“You don’t seem like the type of guy who appreciates embroidery.”
“No, can’t say as I am, but I’m following up on something pertaining to a case.”
The man shrugged his shoulders and leaned against a shelf. “I just had a woman leave the store who asked for these also. Is there something going on that I don’t know about? Maybe I should raise the price.” He scratched his forehead.
“Have you sold any lately?”
“I gave a bunch away when I first opened. It was a gift with purchase kind of thing. I also have an online store.”
“You do?” That opened a whole other option for acquiring the towels. They didn’t have the man power to check every store or auction house on the internet.
“Yes, I have a few things on there. Mostly the new stuff and my more expensive items.”
“And what items might those be?”
The man stood up straight and crossed his arms in front of this chest. “Is there a problem, Officer? I get the feeling that you aren’t here to shop.”
“I’m not. We recently found a towel like this at the scene of a crime and we’re trying to locate where it came from.”
Edward’s face went white. “What kind of crime?”
“I’m not at liberty to say right now.” The room got quiet and he figured the helpfulness of Edward Davis was about to run out. People were usually pretty open about answering things to a man in uniform, but once they got a whiff of something more serious, the conversations start to come to an end.
“This doesn’t have to do with those murders, does it?” Now he fidgeted with the zipper on his fleece pullover.
“I’m not at—” Ryan started.
“I know, I know. Not at liberty to say. I moved to this town because I thought it was a safe place to live, and now women are being killed right and left. Why aren’t you out trying to catch this guy?”
“I’m here following up on a lead.”
“Well, you came to the wrong place because I had nothing to do with them.”
“I never said you did. Just trying to see who might have purchased any of these items.” He motioned toward the shelf full of linens. “How about sad irons? Anyone buy one of them lately?”
“Let me find out.” Ryan followed him to his back office, where Edward checked his computer. “Yes, one last week. I remember her. Nice girl named Amy something or other.”
“Did you see her any time after that purchase?”
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“No.” The man’s mouth dropped open. “Don’t tell me she was one of the girls killed.”
“Why would you think that?” It was a simple question, but the response wasn’t.
“I don’t like your tone. I think you’d better leave now, Officer…” Edward glanced at his name tag.
“Donavan. I was just asking.” Ryan studied the man’s body language. His face was red and his hands twitched. “I didn’t mean to insinuate anything.”
“I’m sorry, Officer Donavan. I meant no disrespect but I’ve recently had a loss as well.” That still didn’t explain why he thought Amy had been a victim.
“Here’s my card if you think of anything else related to those towels or the sad iron.”
Reluctantly, the man took his card and tucked it in his pants pocket. The man’s whole demeanor had changed and he shook like a leaf.
“I’ll show you to the door.” Edward took off down the aisle, leaving Ryan no option but to follow. Along the way, Ryan searched for anything that appeared out of place. Not that he would know what was out of place in a place like this. The price tag on some elaborate furniture near the door did catch his eye though.
He whistled. “Wow, that’s some fancy stuff.” There was a bed with elaborate carvings and a dresser that was equally as nice.
“It’s pre-Civil War era and in exceptional shape. I’m sure it’s above your pay range.” Edward opened the door.
That was rude. “Do you have some kind of problem with cops? I’m sensing some hostility here.” Ryan stood in the doorway but was not about to leave.
“Not at all. Like I said, I’ve recently had a loss. These murders are bringing up bad memories.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” He took a step down and backward out the door. The man was still a few inches shorter than him. “Before I leave, what size shoe do you wear?”
“Ten.” Edward slammed the door in his face.
After a quick stop at the Java Shop, he was back at the station pouring over the case files. One of those day of the week towels had been found at Tracy’s, along with a bag from Bygones. It wasn’t until he noticed Edward’s shoes that he remembered a footprint in the mud behind the house of the first murder. A photo of it was in the file. That could be anything, but it didn’t hurt to keep track of people who wore size ten shoes. So far, Edward Davis was at the top of that list of suspects. There was something not right about that guy. Aside from the print, nothing was out of place at either scene except for the towels.