Bake Me a Murder

by Carole Fowkes

  A sliver of light appeared and I spotted Eric sliding into a distant booth. I lowered my voice. “Mr. Sanchez, you don’t sound that concerned about your sister missing.”

  He grabbed a dishcloth and began wiping the bar. “Look, Coco’s done whatever she wanted since she was twelve. I tried to give her advice more than once. Never listened. She came crying to me about that creep, Rico. Pretty sure my sister met Merle later. First decent guy she ever got involved with. But she blew that.” He ran the cloth over the same spot.

  Ed whispered from the corner of his mouth. “I can feel the devotion.”

  Tony shot Ed a dirty look then picked up my card. “I love my sister, but I can’t help her if she won’t let me. She hasn’t come to me since that we argued about Rico.”

  I stepped back to the bar for my closing remarks. “Thanks for your time. If you do hear from your sister, could you please call me?”

  With the card between his two fingers he saluted me. “Yeah, sure.”

  Outside the bar’s door Ed shook his head. “So much for a brother’s love. No wonder the guy hasn’t heard from his sister. If I were her I wouldn’t go to him even if he had the last bottle of water in the Sahara.”

  He pulled out a toothpick and stuck it in his mouth. “If you ask me, Coco doesn’t want to be found. Merle ought to start looking for another lady friend.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “You want him to give up on Coco? Do you have someone in mind for him?”

  He shifted the toothpick around. “Maybe Angie, Lena’s friend.”

  I chuckled until I realized he was serious. “Isn’t Merle a little young for Angie? I mean, he doesn’t look more than 35, 40 at the most.”

  He waved my concern away. “Like they say, age is just a number. Angie’s a good-looking woman. Not in the same class as Lena, but not bad. She’s lonely and she’s a great cook. Anyway, I’m just saying. ” He pulled out his car keys. “Unless you need me, I gotta go pick up a suit from the tailor.” He patted his bump of a stomach. “Not complaining, but Lena’s desserts are putting extra meat around my waist.”

  “I’m going back to my office. See you later and thanks.”

  Ed took off and I was about to do the same, but Eric approached my car and I rolled down the window.

  “I heard you asking about Tony’s sister, Coco.” Eric’s eyes darted everywhere. “Sorry. I eavesdropped.” His bloodshot, droopy eyes at last settled on me. “Coco stopped at the lounge last night to see Tony but he wasn’t here. On her way out, she asked me for a smoke. We talked outside until she finished.”

  “Tony never found out she came here?”

  Eric shook his head. “She asked the bartender and me not to tell him. Said it was just as well he wasn’t here, but she looked real sad. She finished her cigarette and told me she was going to find her old boyfriend, Earl, or something like that, and make up. Said she regretted ending with him. Then she left.”

  Eric’s statement could point to Merle’s involvement with Coco’s disappearance. “Thanks for letting me know. Would you be willing to repeat that?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  Eric waved and I put the car in reverse when an unmarked vehicle pulled up to the lounge. I threw mine in park and rubbernecked out my window. Detective Corrigan stepped out of the other car and strolled over to me. “Don’t tell me. You’re here on a case.”

  I smiled in spite of my concern over Corrigan’s presence. “Yeah. And you?”

  His manner shifted to cop-on-duty mode. “Police work.” He kept moving and I had to scramble after him toward the lounge.

  “You can’t listen in, Claire.”

  I gave him my pretty smile. “Just tell me. Is it about Coco Sanchez? Where is she?”

  Corrigan halted and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I shouldn’t tell you anything.” He released a breath. “Okay, but keep it to yourself until next of kin is notified.” He twisted his mouth. “Promise you’ll leave after I tell you.”

  “Depends.” The set of his jaw told me leaving would be the prudent thing for me to do. “Yes. I promise.”

  He lowered his voice. “Her body was found at Rocky River Reservation about six this morning. Strangled.”

  Chapter Two

  My hand flew to my mouth. “Are you sure it was Coco Sanchez?” Poor Merle.

  A grim certainty flickered in his eyes. “Yes.”

  He stepped around me and disappeared inside the bar. I was still a bit shocked and didn’t follow him. I remembered Gino’s rule number ten, “Don’t deliver bad news in a bar unless you’re the only one with a gun.”

  Now that this case had turned from missing person to murder victim, I decided I’d resign. Let the police take over. Better for solving the murder, safer for me.

  Still, I wanted to do right by Merle and get him as much information as possible. I cracked open the lounge’s door and peeked inside. A woman, looking more like a customer than a bartender, had replaced Tony. Gone to identify the body? No Corrigan either, so I went inside.

  Eric was talking and Corrigan was writing it down in his notepad. I wondered if Eric embellished on what he’d already told me. I sidled up to the men, expecting Corrigan to warn me away.

  When he didn’t, I used my professional voice in addressing both men. “I see you’re providing Detective Corrigan with the same information you gave me.” Corrigan clicked his pen a couple times.

  Eric chose that moment to recall his conversation with Coco. “I remember the boyfriend’s name. It was Merle, not Earl.”

  Any lingering optimism I had for this case drained away like overturned barrels of moonshine.

  Corrigan put his pen to paper again. “You sure about that?”

  Eric glanced at me and nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

  I tried to deflect the implication. “So she was killed on her way to see Merle.”

  “Does this Merle have a last name?” Corrigan glared at me. “Claire, you must know him since you’re hell bent on protecting…Oh, I get it. Merle is your client, isn’t he?”

  I looked at him with fake innocence. “I have someplace else I need to be.”

  Corrigan said, “Once you give me Merle’s last name and address if you have it, you can scamper off.”

  He was so much more appealing when he wasn’t playing ‘cop’. “Fine. It’s Pokov and I’m leaving.”

  Merle needed to know about Coco’s death and Eric’s statement. I wondered if he had a lawyer. With my hand on the door, I turned my head. “Oh, by the way and of course it doesn’t make a difference, but, Merle is Ed’s cousin.” Without sticking around to see Corrigan’s reaction I walked outside and called Merle before I got to my car.

  “Merle, this is Claire. We need to talk right away. Can you meet me at the Breen Center across from St. Ignatius in fifteen minutes? Park in the back by Keene Court. It’s very important.” I held my breath, hoping he’d agree.

  “Is Coco okay? Did you find her?”

  I pressed my lips together. “Let’s talk in person.”

  When I arrived at the Breen Center, Merle was already there. His clothes were covered in dark grey muck. Clay or something. He looked down at his shirt and ran his hand over it. “I was at work. What did you find?”

  An anticipatory empathetic tear trickled down. “Coco’s dead. The police suspect foul play. I’m so sorry.”

  Merle sat on the curb and dropped his head into his hands. I joined him and waited. After a moment he straightened and stared off into the street. “Do they know who,” his voice cracked, “killed her?”

  “Not yet. They’re still investigating.”

  He stared down at his hands. “I was named after Merle Haggard. Great singer, lots of sad songs about love.” He turned and faced me. “I want to see her.”

  “That may not be possible.”

  His eyes had a faraway look in them. “I redialed the number she called from. Got nothing.” He paused. “I went to where she used to work. No one had seen her. I gave up then. I shouldn’t ha
ve. Maybe she’d still be alive.” Merle pulled out a white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. “Stay on the case. Please.”

  “You hired me to find Coco. It’s a matter for the police now.” I hoped he saw my point. I didn’t want to admit the real reason I wanted off the case. I was allergic to danger; one whiff of it and I broke out in fear.

  He picked up a piece of gravel and tossed it across the almost empty parking lot. “The cops have lots of cases to work. You’d be more focused. Please. I have to know what happened.”

  This conversation reminded me of an earlier case on which I’d been persuaded to stay. Remembering how that turned out, I shook my head. “My report will include Coco’s cause of death and so forth, but that’s the end of it. I’m sorry. Of course, you’ll get a full refund.”

  He stood and wiped his hands on his pants. “Forget the refund. I’m asking you, reconsider.”

  I rose too. “I don’t think—” My phone interrupted me. Corrigan. “I need to take this, Merle. Hello?”

  “Claire. It’s Brian. Is Merle Pokov with you?”

  I frowned. “Yes. Why?”

  “Where are you?”

  After I answered, Corrigan said, “Make sure he stays put. I’ll be right there.”

  I started to tell Merle what Corrigan said, but he stopped me. “I heard.” He glanced at his watch. “Better call my crew and let them know I’ll be delayed.”

  I nodded. Who knew which way this would spin?

  It took Corrigan ten minutes to arrive, but I think, in that time, Merle aged five years.

  I made the introductions.

  Corrigan’s nod was curt. He flipped open his notepad. Never a good sign. “Mr. Pokov, this morning you hired Ms. DeNardo to find Coco Sanchez. Is that correct?” I parted my lips and Corrigan pointed at me. “Don’t answer for him, Claire.”

  Merle nodded. “Yeah. My cousin, Ed, told me she would be good—”

  “You and Ms. Sanchez were lovers?”

  “I loved her, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Were you aware Coco Sanchez was killed sometime last night?”

  “Claire told me.” Merle’s voice quivered.

  Corrigan tapped his pen against his notepad. “So Ms. Sanchez didn’t indicate why she needed your help. Do you know of anything she might have been involved in or can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt her?”

  “No. I hadn’t seen her for four months.”

  “But you still loved her? No hard feelings she walked out on you?” Corrigan watched Merle’s face, which turned the color of a raw steak.

  “At first I was hurt. Not now, though.”

  “Where were you yesterday evening between nine and one in the morning?”

  Merle balled his fists. “You’re kidding me! I couldn’t have killed her. I loved her.”

  I extended my hand to pat Merle’s arm but thought better of it. I’m a toucher, but not everyone is a touchee. “Detective Corrigan has to ask everyone involved. It’s better if you answer now.”

  “I was home. Alone.”

  Corrigan jotted a note. “Can anybody corroborate your story? Did you talk to anyone on the phone, for instance?”

  “No. Didn’t talk or see anyone after 8:00. That’s when I called my cousin, Earl and that was after Coco called me. I tried to watch TV until 11:00 then went to bed.” He rubbed his neck.

  “And what were you doing before eight? Before both calls?”

  “I worked until 6:00. Drove home. Got there about 6:30.”

  “Your co-workers could vouch for you being there until then?”

  “Sure.” He frowned. “Wait. Only until about noon. Ate lunch and after that, I worked at the south edge of the site by myself.”

  “We’ll check it out. Just need you to give me the names and numbers of anyone who can say with certainty they saw you.”

  Merle pulled out a business card and handed it to Corrigan. “I work for Delilleo Construction. Terry Dellilleo is my boss. It’s his card.” He hesitated, swallowed hard, and asked, “Can I see Coco?”

  “Only next of kin for right now.” Corrigan made a show of reviewing his scant notes. “Anything else you’d like to tell me?”

  “Not that I can think of.”

  “Okay, I’ll be in contact.” Corrigan shut his notepad. “Meantime, if you do think of anything, please let me know.” He pulled out his own business card and handed it to Merle.

  Corrigan’s gaze slid over to me. “Claire, I need a few words with you. In my car.”

  Without waiting for my response, he began walking, but over his shoulder added, “Goes without saying, Mr. Pokov. Don’t make yourself hard to find.”

  I held up my index finger to Merle, indicating he should wait a minute. I scampered after Corrigan, who was already holding his car door open for me. I gave him a questioning look and got in.

  Corrigan stuck his key in the ignition and the doors locked.

  My voice rose. “What are you doing? We can’t leave. My car’s over there.”

  He set his jaw. “If you promise me you’ll drop Pokov as a client and you won’t stick around here with him, I’ll let you get out.”

  “Isn’t holding me against my will illegal?”

  “Look, he’s the prime suspect in this murder case. I don’t want you in the middle.”

  Corrigan had Merle figured as the killer, with Eric’s information supporting the detective’s opinion. Granted, Eric’s statement warranted further investigation, but shouldn’t slant a premature conclusion even further. Only one thing for me to do.

  I pressed my lips together hard to stop myself from rushing my words. I had to be smart and choose them with care. While backing out of the case would be the wisest thing to do, I couldn’t believe Merle had killed the woman he loved. He seemed like a sincere guy and Ed had nothing but praise for his cousin. I couldn’t let Ed down. I had to stay on this case at least until Merle was cleared. I took a deep breath and steeled myself for battle with Corrigan.

  “I’ll leave, but Merle isn’t guilty. I can’t just drop the case because you want me to.”

  “If evidence points to someone, there’s a good chance they’re guilty. Can’t you be logical for once?”

  I leaned my elbow on the padding beneath the passenger window. “That’s not logic. That’s jumping to conclusions. You can’t just pronounce your opinion as truth and call it logic.”

  Corrigan glared at me and the vein in his temple danced. “I should have known you’d be pigheaded about this.”

  I gasped. “I might be pigheaded, but you’re acting like horse’s ass.”

  He pressed his palms into the top of his thighs. “Great way to keep a relationship going, DeNardo.”

  I bristled. “Relationship? There’s no relationship. We had three dates. The last of which you ducked out early.”

  “I’m a cop. Sometimes that happens. You didn’t seem to mind it at the time. Not that I’ll be inconveniencing you anymore with dates cut short.”

  I crossed my arms. “That’s fine with me.” Really? Was it? I needed to get away before I said something I’d regret, or that would get me arrested. I grabbed the door handle. “Can I get out now?”

  He blew out a breath and unlocked my door. “I’ll wait here until you drive off.”

  I got out and didn’t look back. How dare he call me pigheaded? I was angry and hurt. I should have known better than to let a man into my heart. I should have kept the ‘Justin Incident’ in mind. Justin, my fiancé for four years who, after grad school, dumped me for a skinny, blonde dental hygienist. I shook off the memory. Best to concentrate on business, and right now, Merle’s fate was my business.

  My hands felt glacial and I shoved them in my pockets. I approached Merle who once again sat on the curb. I needed to tell him about Eric’s statement. “I’m sorry, Merle. I can’t stay here but before I go, there’s something you need to know.”

  “More bad news?”

  “A witness says he talke
d to Coco yesterday and claims she said she was on her way to see you.”

  He jerked. “That means—”

  “That you could have been the last to see her alive.”

  His jaw dropped. “That I killed her? But I didn’t! I was at work all day and didn’t even see her.”

  I reassured myself Ed hadn’t recommended me to a killer sociopath. “Just the same, you may want to talk to an attorney.” From the corner of my eye I caught Corrigan getting out of his car. My time was up with Merle. “Look, I’ve gotta go.”

  Merle grabbed my wrist. “You don’t think I did it, do you?” He remembered himself and let me go. “Sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  Too late. Corrigan was barreling forward, fists clenched. I had to hurry. Out of the corner of my mouth I whispered to Merle, “Meet me at the Clifton Coffeehouse in fifteen minutes.”

  Corrigan’s voice boomed, “Weren’t you just leaving, Claire?”

  “Yes. Yes. Right now.” I hurried to my car, hoping Merle had heard me and Corrigan hadn’t.

  I sat in the coffeehouse nursing a hot chocolate, playing the conversation between Corrigan and me over and over. Of course each time I did, I grew more righteous.

  Merle dragged himself in and ordered a coffee, which he didn’t touch.

  Best to get this over with.

  “Merle, you asked me if I thought you killed Coco. My opinion isn’t as important as what the cops think.” I almost added, ‘and the jury’, but that’d spook him for sure. “We need to find who did kill Coco. Do you know of any enemies she had here?”

  “She complained about her neighbor at her apartment, but then she moved out.” He thought a moment. “No. I can’t think of anyone who’d want to hurt her. And I don’t know any lawyers. Never had a need for one.”

  I had a cousin on my mother’s side, Anthony, who was a lawyer. If someone asked me what kind, I’d tell them, “The sleazy kind.” Of course, I wouldn’t recommend him, but didn’t know any others either. Still, I wanted to help. “I’ll get you the name of an attorney.”

  “If you think I should have one.” His shoulders slumped.

  When we parted company, I called someone who could recommend a good criminal attorney. Alex Carpenter, fair-haired, handsome, straight-as-an-arrow CPA whose uncle was Michael Bucanetti, an alleged crime boss in Newark. Although Alex claimed he kept away from any shady activity, I figured he knew the names of lawyers who defended the local thugs.