Cold Case, Hot Accomplice

by Carla Cassidy

  So far she’d spent most of her time sitting in the chair, trying to keep her mind off her current circumstances and focused instead on the women she’d raised, the memories she had of their childhoods and how proud she was of how they had grown and who they had become in adulthood.

  Still, no matter how hard she tried to keep her mind busy with happy thoughts, she couldn’t fight against the yawning fear that shivered inside her soul.

  Why was she here? And who on earth was going to find her in this underground bunker?

  Who had the keys to the door, and what did they ultimately intend to do to her? More than once she’d considered lying down on the floor to see if she could get a peek at the other person when one of the food trays was delivered or retrieved.

  But she had yet to get up the nerve. As long as she didn’t know who held her captive, then if she somehow managed to escape he’d believe he was safe. But she feared that the moment she saw who held her, the moment she knew his identity, he’d have no choice but to kill her.

  And so she waited and prayed that somehow, someway, she’d be found and saved from whatever might happen next.

  Chapter 14

  Steve dropped Roxy off at the Dollhouse and then stopped by the police station to get the address of Michael Arello, the young man who had worked for her that she’d recently fired.

  Frank was still working to try to find Ramona Marcoli, and Jimmy was out checking stores that sold martial-arts equipment. He’d also planned to stop in at Ling’s Studio, the only martial-arts dojo in town.

  Armed with the address of Michael’s parents’ home, where apparently the young man still lived, Steve left the station house.

  He had about two hours before he would return to the Dollhouse to pick up Roxy and take her home with him. He was conflicted about having her at the house. There was a part of him that he knew was getting too close to her, allowing her too deeply into his heart. That was the part of him that wanted, needed to throw up all his defenses and keep his distance, and yet he wanted her safe and knew the only place he could truly be assured of her safety was with him.

  Even if she’d agreed to go to one of her sisters’ places or had invited one or both of them to stay with her at the Dollhouse, he wouldn’t have been satisfied that it would keep her safe. Besides, the last thing he wanted to do was put either Sheri or Marlene in a danger zone.

  A healthy dose of frustration rode with him in the car as he drove down the Arellos’ street. They were no closer to figuring out what had happened to Liz Marcoli. He had no idea who might be trying to harm Roxy, and they couldn’t even discern if the two crimes were related or not.

  Spinning wheels, that’s what he felt like they were doing. Spinning wheels while Roxy’s life was at risk, while Liz Marcoli was still missing.

  He’d told Roxy that investigations were processes, but he was already impatient with the process. He wanted Liz found, and he wanted whoever had tried to hurt Roxy behind bars.

  At least no attempts had been made to hurt Sheri or Marlene, leaving him to believe that this wasn’t about the family, but rather focused solely on Roxy and her aunt. If the crimes were connected, he reminded himself.

  Yes, he wanted the perp or perps behind bars. And he wanted Tommy home where he belonged, but that didn’t appear to be happening in the near future.

  When he reached the Arello home, he got out of the car and slammed his door with more force than was necessary. His frustration only grew when he introduced himself to Mrs. Arello, who told him that her son wasn’t home but was probably at the Wolf’s Head Tavern with his no-count friends.

  Once again Steve got back in the car and headed toward the tavern. He didn’t have a photo of Michael to go by, but at this time of day the tavern shouldn’t be too busy.

  He parked in one of the empty spaces in front of the long, low building that was a favorite place among the locals and headed for the door.

  Stepping inside, he waited a moment for his eyes to adjust from the bright sunshine outside to the semidarkness of the interior.

  The Wolf’s Head was aptly named. Along with the dark booths, the long polished wooden bar with stools and the pool table area in the back, stuffed wolf heads were the major decor. They hung on the walls, snarling from their wooden mounts, making the place a favorite for visitors to the area, as well.

  “Hey, Travis,” Steve greeted the man who owned and operated the place. Travis Brooks was also an avid hunter and responsible for most of the heads that adorned the walls.

  “What’s up? You’re in here early.”

  “Actually, I’m working, not drinking.” It was easy for Steve to guess where Michael might be, as a small group of twentysomethings was gathered around the two pool tables, their voices slightly raucous.

  “Michael Arello one of those guys?” Steve asked.

  Travis nodded. “The tall dark-haired one in the red T-shirt with the big mouth.”

  “Thanks.” Steve ambled toward the pool tables, his gaze focused solely on the tall man in the red shirt. There were five young men gathered around the two tables. Michael was one of the players, a cue stick in his hand.

  They all paused in the action as Steve closed in on them. He recognized a couple of the guys, but his gaze narrowed in on Michael. “Michael Arello?” he asked, although it was more a statement than a question.

  “Yeah?”

  “We need to have a talk.” Steve flashed his badge and motioned toward one of the booths nearby.

  Michael frowned and handed his cue stick to one of the men standing next to him, and then stalked over to the booth and sprawled on the seat. “Talk about what?” he asked as Steve slid into the booth across from him.

  “Roxy Marcoli.” Steve watched the play of emotions on the other man’s face. Michael was a fairly good-looking kid, with hazel eyes and a chiseled jaw, but his lips definitely appeared accustomed to a sullen cast.

  “What about her?”

  “She fired you about a month ago?”

  “Yeah, so? Big deal. It was a stupid-ass job anyway,” he replied. “All she had me doing was busing tables.”

  “I’d say it was a stupid-ass move for you to steal from her,” Steve noted.

  Michael’s cheeks dusted with ruddy color. “What, are you here to arrest me for trying to take off with a couple slices of ham? Aren’t there other crimes in this town a little more important for you to take care of instead of hassling me?”

  “That’s why I’m here...to ask you about some more important crimes. Are you into martial arts?”

  Michael frowned, his eyes narrowing warily. “I do a little tae kwon do at Master Ling’s. What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Just gathering some information.” Steve leaned back against the booth. “Are you into throwing stars and breaking boards?”

  Michael shrugged, his gaze still distrustful. “I’ve thrown a few stars, but I don’t break boards. What’s going on? Why are you asking me this stuff?”

  “Somebody decided to throw some knives at Roxy the other night outside her place.” Steve leaned forward. “And she told me you were pretty ticked off with her when she fired you.”

  The sullen cast of Michael’s lips disappeared as his face became more animated. “Yeah, sure, I was mad when she fired me. I was a good worker, and she could have just given me a warning instead of throwing me out. But I didn’t have anything to do with any knives thrown at her. That’s crazy, man.”

  “Where were you last night around nine o’clock?”

  “Last night?” Michael’s eyes darted around wildly. “Here. I was here with my buddies playing pool. Since I lost my job that’s what I’ve been doing...just hanging out.”

  “And your buddies will tell me that you were here last night at nine?” Steve glanced over to where the other four young
men were standing in a group, whispering to each other.

  “Yeah, sure. They’ll tell you the same thing,” Michael said.

  Steve had a feeling his friends would say that the moon was green if it kept their buddy out of trouble. “And Travis should remember that you were here last night.”

  “He should.” Michael looked over at the man standing behind the bar. “But it was kinda busy last night so I don’t know if he really noticed me or not.”

  Steve leaned forward. “If I find out you tried to hurt Roxy, you’ll be finding new friends to hang out with in jail. If anything bad happens to Roxy, you’re going to be the first person I come after.” Steve got to his feet.

  “But I’m totally innocent, and that’s not fair. I swear I didn’t have anything to do with whatever happened to Roxy,” Michael protested.

  Steve smiled humorlessly. “Then you’ve learned an important lesson in life today. Life’s not fair.” With Michael still sputtering his innocence, Steve walked away.

  With a wave to Travis, he left the tavern and got back in his car, processing his initial feelings about any culpability on Michael Arello’s part in the attacks on Roxy. He’d call Travis later, when Michael wasn’t in the tavern, to check Michael’s story that he’d been there the night before.

  The verdict was undecided. Steve punched in Jimmy’s cell phone number. “Where are you?” he asked when Jimmy answered.

  “On my way to Ling’s Studio. Why? What do you need?”

  “Ask him if Michael Arello is proficient in throwing stars or knives.”

  “You have a lead?”

  “It could be nothing. It could be something. It all depends on what you find out at Ling’s. Call me back when you have an answer.”

  “I’ve already checked two of the places here in town that sell throwing knives, and neither store carries the Vampire knives in question. Tomorrow I’m going to head into Hershey and see what I can find out there.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Call me when you know something for me about Arello.”

  When the two men disconnected, Steve checked his watch. It was just about five o’clock and time for him to head back to the Dollhouse.

  Maybe they were making some headway in solving the question of who was after Roxy, but they were no closer to figuring out what had happened to Liz Marcoli.

  He wished he was returning for Roxy with some definitive answers, but he had nothing concrete to share with her concerning the two cases.

  All he could do at the moment was offer her a safe haven in his home until somehow, someway, they figured out what was going on.

  And while he was offering her that safe haven, he had to maintain enough distance that he didn’t sink into the trap of falling in love with a woman who had made it clear that she had no intention of loving him back.

  * * *

  Roxy couldn’t help the way her heart lifted at the sight of Steve walking through the restaurant’s back door just after five. She’d spent part of the afternoon packing a suitcase so that she’d be ready to leave with him when they were finished with the day’s cleanup.

  She had mixed feelings about the plan to stay with him, but there was no question that she was afraid to stay here by herself. The horrible sound of those knives hitting the wood so close to her head and the thought of the icy cold of the freezer were still too fresh in her mind for her to want to attempt to stay here alone for a single night.

  She hated being chased out of her business, her home, but she would hate giving somebody another chance to kill her. She might be occasionally hotheaded. She might be too brash and controlling, but she wasn’t a fool. She would be safe at Steve’s, and at the moment that’s all she wanted, a feeling of safety.

  “Hey, you,” she greeted him as he came into the kitchen, where she and Josie were finishing the cleanup while Gus and Greg were taking care of preparing the dining areas for the next morning.

  “Hey, yourself,” he replied. “Hi, Josie, how’s it going?”

  “Good. I keep telling Roxy she should just get away from here for a couple of weeks. Go someplace exotic and take a vacation or something. I can handle things perfectly well, and that would give you all time to figure out who’s after her.” Josie wiped her hands on a towel and shook her head. “But she’s stubborn as the day is long and apparently doesn’t trust me to be able to handle things without her.”

  “Josie, you know that I trust you, but it’s my job to be here,” Roxy exclaimed. “This is my business. It’s what I do, and I’m not going to allow anyone to chase me away from here.”

  “I know, I know.” Josie threw up her hands and grinned at Steve. “Stubborn.”

  He smiled. “Tell me something about her I don’t know.”

  “No ganging up on me,” Roxy protested. She waved a finger at Steve. “In fact, you should be thankful I’m coming home with you because I’m bringing the leftover homemade chicken potpie for dinner, along with some raspberry scones to have with coffee later.”

  “Why don’t you two go ahead and head out,” Josie said. “I can lock up here.”

  Roxy pointed to the suitcase she had ready to go. “If you want to grab that, I’ll get our to-go bags.” As Steve picked up her suitcase, Roxy grabbed the foam containers she’d prepared to take to his house.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” Josie said. “Whatever time you get in is fine.”

  “Thanks, Josie,” Roxy replied, and then she and Steve left the restaurant.

  “I had a little talk with Michael Arello this afternoon,” Steve said once they were in the car and headed to his place.

  “Did he confess under your harsh grilling?” she asked, attempting to be light despite the subject matter.

  “Not exactly, but he did admit to taking some martial arts training at Ling’s. I’m waiting for Jimmy to call me from there with any information Master Ling can give him about Michael’s proficiency at knife or star throwing.”

  Roxy sat back in her seat. “Is it really possible he’d try to kill me because I fired him?”

  “It might be possible he intended to scare you. If he’s really good with knives, then maybe he missed you on purpose. Scaring you and tossing you into the freezer is adolescent and reckless, but maybe if he is the guilty party, he didn’t want to actually hurt you.”

  “If he is responsible then I want him charged with attempted murder,” she said firmly. “Adolescent or not, I would have died in that freezer if you hadn’t decided to bring Aunt Liz’s sweater back to me that night.”

  She sighed and stared out the window, then turned back to look at him. “And I guess there are still no leads on my aunt.”

  “I wish I could tell you different, but I can’t. Frank is still trying to find your mother and hoping Liz is with her.”

  “If that was the case, then Liz’s bank account would have been tapped. Wherever Ramona is, whatever the circumstances in her life, she would definitely get money from Aunt Liz, probably to help support her latest boyfriend.” Roxy shook her head. “I don’t think they’re together. What scares me is that this afternoon, as I thought about that cabin where Edward Cardell stays, I wondered how many other cabins are up there in the mountains? How many places a woman could be kept against her will?”

  “If she was kidnapped, then it’s probable that she was taken by somebody she knows, and the odds are we’ll find that person right here in town. It’s too early for tourist season, so I don’t believe she was arbitrarily targeted by a stranger,” he replied.

  “I just want my life back the way it was last Thursday,” she said softly.

  “I know. If I had my way, I’d go back in time two years ago and I’d pick Tommy up from school instead of letting him ride the bus home.”

  “We’re quite a pair,” she said with a sigh. “But thank you for allowing me t
o stay with you for a day or two.”

  “You’re welcome, and we’ll see how long you’ll stay according to how the investigation moves forward.” He pulled into his driveway.

  For the next hour they focused on dinner. Roxy reheated the potpie in the microwave as Steve set the table and made them each a glass of iced tea. He’d just finished that when his cell phone rang.

  He grabbed the phone from his pocket and answered. “Yeah...right. Okay. Find out who is the star student, and we’ll see if it’s somebody friendly with Michael Arello. Okay, see you in the morning unless something breaks.”

  He clicked off, and Roxy looked at him expectantly. “That was Jimmy. According to Master Ling, Michael couldn’t throw stars or knives and hit the side of a barn if he was only three feet in front of it.”

  Roxy took the chicken potpie from the microwave and set it in the center of the table. “So he’s ruled out as the knife thrower.”

  “But not ruled out as having a friend at the dojo who might be willing to do him a favor.” Steve waited until Roxy sat, and then he took the chair across from her.

  “How about we make it a rule at dinnertime that we only talk about pleasant things,” she said, feeling as if her head were about to explode with all the theories and suppositions.

  “I think that sounds like a great idea,” he agreed.

  There were several long moments of silence as they stared at each other. A giggle bubbled up inside Roxy as the silence continued. The giggle expanded to full laughter and he joined her, shaking his head as he laughed.

  “It’s pathetic. Surely we can think of something good to talk about while we eat,” he said.

  “Tell me about your perfect childhood,” she said as she dipped up servings of the savory pie first on his plate and then on her own.

  “It was as close to perfect as anything could be,” he admitted. “My mom and dad were terrific parents. They supported and encouraged me in everything I did. The only time we had a little blip in our great relationship was when they found out Stacy was pregnant with my child and we weren’t going to get married. They eased up on me when they knew I’d asked and she’d declined.”