Bake Me a Murder

by Carole Fowkes

  Corrigan muttered something and dismissed Merle, but Merle didn’t move. His eyes darted to me. When I nodded my agreement, he followed Harold out of the room, his gait so unsteady I wasn’t sure he’d make it to the hallway.

  Eyes burning into my back forced me to turn around. Corrigan slouched back in his seat, one arm slung over the back of his chair. “Did you raid the high school for that kid?”

  If I’d hoped to get out of here without Corrigan’s snide remarks, he’d stomped that desire. “Very funny. He happens to come highly recommended.”

  He snorted. “By who? His homeroom teacher?”

  As usual, no comeback came to mind so I spun on my heels to follow Harold and Merle. They planned to discuss the case back at Harold’s office.

  “Ms. DeNardo, you’re welcome to come too, but I’d like some time alone with my client first.”

  “Thanks, but I have to go back to my office anyway. Someone’s faxing me a picture of the victim’s, uh, Coco’s former boyfriend.”

  Merle looked like a guy who’d been hit by a tornado. But Harold strutted along, as self-possessed as a new- age Napoleon. “Mr. Pokov, why don’t you and Ms. DeNardo catch up while I get my car?”

  Once Harold was out of hearing distance Merle, his bloodshot eyes following his new attorney, asked, “Are you sure this guy knows what he’s doing? He doesn’t look old enough to drive let alone be a lawyer.”

  I held up my hand and said what I feared I’d be repeating. “He came highly recommended.”

  Merle rubbed his drawn face. “It’s my neck in the noose. I hope whoever recommended Junior wasn’t pulling your leg.”

  I hoped so too.

  Wednesday, 2:00 p.m.

  Rico’s picture lay in the receiving tray of my office fax machine. The guy had the looks of a matinee idol from the silent movie era. Thick, black hair combed back, smoldering dark eyes and full lips curved into a smile that could set the most jaded woman’s heart fluttering. No mystery as to Coco’s attraction to the man.

  My phone rang. Gino. “Claire? Did you get Rico’s picture?”

  “Yes, I have it in my hand. I can understand what Coco saw in him.”

  He snorted. “If you say so. He’s also handy with a knife, or so I’ve been told. Rumor is, he carved up a rival pretty bad, but never got charged for it. And,” he paused as if waiting for a drum roll. “He jumped parole and disappeared.”

  I’d been leaning against my desk but now I stood straight. “Any word on when?” If Rico was in town at the time of Coco’s murder, he’d certainly be a suspect.

  “Landlord claims Rico hasn’t been around for at least three weeks.”

  “Enough time to find Coco and kill her. Great work, Gino!” I stammered, “Of course, you know how to do this. I mean, you were my boss…”

  “It’s okay, Claire. Anything else I can do? I forgot how much I enjoy the chase. Gets my blood flowing.”

  “I think you’ve given me what I need. But if you hear anything else—”

  “I’ll be sure to give ya a ring.”

  My conversation ended with Gino and I called Corrigan to tell him about Rico. It went in to his voicemail. I started to leave him a message when another call beeped in. Tony, Coco’s brother. Without finishing my sentence, I switched to Tony’s call, but I missed it. He hadn’t left any message.

  I grabbed the fax Gino had sent and headed out. I turned around and rummaged in my refrigerator. I’d stop at West City Lounge, give Eric the manicotti my father had made and show Rico’s picture around. Then let Corrigan know what I’d learned.

  I spotted Eric mulling around the doorway of the lounge. He looked like he was losing weight. Pity stabbed me in the heart and I was glad I’d brought the manicotti with me. I wondered how to give it to him without it sounding like charity.

  “Hi Eric.” I shifted the aluminum pan a bit. “I don’t know if you like manicotti, but I’m, um, trying to keep my girlish figure. Would you help me out and eat it?”

  His eyes opened wide and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You sure?”

  I nodded and held it out to him.

  “Thanks.” He took it and tore off the foil covering the pasta tubes. “Looks great.” He balanced the pan with one hand and grabbed my arm with his other. “Hey, anything new on Coco’s killer?”

  He reminded me of a dog anticipating a treat for performing a trick. Goose bumps formed on my arms. I hoped it was just excitement over the manicotti.

  His breath smelled of cigarettes and liquor and I backed away. “Nothing yet.” I showed him the picture of Rico. “Have you seen this guy before?”

  Eric studied it, a scowl on his face. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I have.”

  My skin tingled. “Where and when?”

  “Came by the same day as Coco.” He rubbed his forehead, trying to clear the fogginess. “No. The day before that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure. He strolled in here like he owned the place. Asked the bartender something and left. I remembered him because he pushed me out of his way so hard I almost stumbled.”

  “Did you tell Detective Corrigan about this guy?”

  He shook his head. “Truth is, it didn’t occur to me.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll let him know when I’m done here.” He’ll probably take the information and lecture me again about staying out of the whole thing.

  I continued into the bar to see what else I could discover. A youngish woman with tattoos up both arms and a nose ring wiped off the bar. “What can I get for you, hon?”

  I introduced myself, showed her Rico’s picture, and asked if she’d seen him.

  “I remember him. He wanted to talk to Tony, but Tony wasn’t here. So the guy demanded Tony’s address, which I didn’t give him. Guy was definitely a hottie. Hot tempered, too. Thought he’d hit me when I wouldn’t help him. In the end he just stomped off.”

  “Did you tell Tony?”

  “Yeah, but when I told him the guy hadn’t given his name or why he wanted to talk, Tony shrugged it off. Said there wasn’t much he could do about it.” She tilted her head and looked over my shoulder. “Funny. Even though Tony blew it off, he looked pissed, like maybe he did know who it was.”

  It was time to pay a visit to Tony again. Maybe he was more concerned about Rico’s visit than he let on to the other bartender. With some coaxing, Marlene gave me Tony’s address.

  I thanked her, exited the lounge, and called Corrigan.

  When he answered I told him what I’d learned about Rico and his visit to the lounge. “If he was in town, given his history with Coco, he should be a ‘person of interest’, shouldn’t he?”

  “Rico violated his parole so we need to find him. Once we do, we’ll see if he has an alibi for the time of Coco’s death. If he does, he goes back to Florida. Don’t go after him yourself. He’s a dangerous felon.”

  “You don’t believe he killed Coco?”

  Corrigan hesitated. “At this point—.”

  A muffled voice interrupted us and Corrigan responded with, “Yeah, be right there.” To me he said, “Claire, thanks for the info. I mean it. But I gotta go.” Before I could say anything more, Corrigan was gone.

  He hadn’t sounded curious enough about Rico to satisfy me. But I’d bet my non-existent bank account on Rico as the killer.

  On my way to Tony’s place, I texted Ed with his address and requested backup. When I got no response, I was ready to retreat. Only the thought of Merle in prison kept me on my way.

  Tony lived in a three story walk-up in Birdtown, an aging section of Lakewood, a Cleveland suburb. I’d reached the third floor landing when I heard men yelling. One sounded like Tony. Not wanting to get in the middle, I pressed against the hallway wall, pulled out my gun, and poked my head around the corner far enough to see what was happening.

  There he was, standing in his apartment doorway, poised like wrestler ready to pounce, tapping a thick steel pipe against the palm of his hand. “
Get the hell away from me before I call the cops.”

  The dark-haired man Tony was yelling at held up his arms and took a few steps backwards. “Hey man, I don’t want no trouble with you.” He spoke with a heavy Latino accent. “Just want what’s mine, you know?” Tony cursed and slammed the door in the man’s face. The guy pounded on the door but when he didn’t get any response, he spun around. It was Rico, and he was strutting down the hallway toward me.

  My heart jumped into my throat. I ducked, feeling like the groundhog that sees his shadow. I reached for my phone but it was too late. Rico was in front of me.

  Chapter Six

  “Chica. ¿Que pasa?” Rico’s smile was charming and dangerous at the same time.

  I cleared my throat. “Rico Carrreras?”

  His eyes dropped to my gun and his smile became less enchanting. “Who wants to know?”

  “I’m Claire, a private investigator.”

  “You want to investigate me? You, like, a bounty hunter?” His gaze sizzled and I felt like my clothes were disintegrating.

  I backed up and hit the wall. My gun shook. “I’m investigating Coco Sanchez’s murder.”

  He dropped the cocky façade. “Murder? Someone killed her?” He stepped toward me, his stare pinning me to the wall.

  My nails dug into the plaster. “Last evening.”

  He mumbled something to himself in Spanish and to me said, “You better not be lying to me, chica. Her brother, that pendejo, didn’t say nothing about it.”

  I dropped my shoulders, trying to appear unafraid. “Why did you come to Cleveland?”

  “Coco and me, we were good together. Then she took something and I wanted it.” He placed his hands on the wall, trapping me and he leaned in. “Maybe you know where it is.”

  My throat tightened. “I don’t even know what it is.”

  He dropped his arms. “Then you and me ain’t got no business.” He spun around and headed toward the stairs.

  Sad to say, although I wasn’t brave enough to follow him, I did the next best thing.

  My fingers hit the wrong number twice calling Corrigan. I stopped, took a deep breath and tried once more. Success. My words ran together. “Rico Carreras just left 2525 Robin Way, Lakewood.”

  “Okay.” Corrigan passed the information on then said, “Claire? “We’re putting out an APB on him. Don’t hunt him down yourself.”

  For once, I agreed with Corrigan. I slid my gun back into my purse. Before he could add anything else, I spotted Tony standing in his apartment doorway, steel pipe still in his hand. “Thanks, Brian.” I hung up and made my way down the hall. I had a suspicion Tony knew more about his sister’s recent activities than he’d let on. For Merle’s sake, I intended to find out.

  Tony gave me a mind-your-own-business look. “You didn’t need to come here.”

  “You called me. Remember?”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah, well, I changed my mind.”

  “About what?”

  He didn’t seem to hear me. “If Coco had just listened to me…” He hit the pipe against the wall leaving a dent where it had landed.

  “Rico was after something. Do you have it? Is that why you called me?”

  “He was after Coco’s phone, but I don’t got it.”

  “Do you know why he wanted it?”

  “No idea but Rico wanted her phone pretty bad.”

  I wondered if Rico had wanted the phone bad enough to kill her for it.

  I was just about to leave when Tony, under his breath said, “I called you to ask you to find the real killer. For Coco. And me.”

  Wednesday, 5:00 p.m.

  My next stop was the police station. I almost made it inside when Ed appeared and took my arm. “Cops arrested Merle about ten minutes ago.”

  “What does Corrigan have now that he didn’t before?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Merle’s kid lawyer is with him now.”

  I rushed in, got past the front officer, and spotted Corrigan sipping coffee at his desk. He watched me over the rim of his cup. “Not surprised to see you here. You must have heard we arrested Pokov. Hi, Ed.”

  I spun around to see Ed, coming behind me. He nodded to Corrigan.

  I templed my hands to stop them from waving around. “Did you forget about Rico Carreras? Or do you think he’s just in town for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?”

  Corrigan gripped his cup so tight I thought he’d crush it. “No, I didn’t. Just a matter of time before we catch him and see if he has an alibi for the time of Ms. Sanchez’s murder. Don’t worry, we’ll cover all ground, even though I think we’ve already got our perp. I intend to investigate this case to the fullest extent.” He paused and nonchalantly added, “By the way, we matched some dirt under Ms. Sanchez’s nails to what Pokov had on his clothes.”

  I knew he was watching for my reaction, so I tried my best not to show any. My stomach dropped, but he couldn’t see that.

  “Now if you happen to see Rico again, Claire, let the big boys handle him.”

  I ignored his stupid dig about me versus the ‘big boys’. “Rico is looking for Coco’s phone.”

  Corrigan motioned for me to have a seat. “How do you know that?”

  I looked away from his blue eyes and gave him a rundown of my Rico encounter.

  “So you didn’t just spot Carreras. You talked to him.” Corrigan drummed on his desk. He mumbled, “We didn’t find her phone in Pokov’s apartment either, but he may have stashed it somewhere else. Like his parent’s place.” He put his hand on mine and, as if he’d touched hot ice, jerked away. “You shouldn’t have interacted with that scum, but uh, good work.”

  I thought my hearing was off. Rather than tossing out a snide comment, I thanked him.

  My mind spun away from Corrigan’s remarks to Merle, who may have had an alibi until six. But what about once he got home? And before or after he called Ed? I again discounted any doubts I had about Merle’s innocence. I couldn’t afford them.

  Besides, it was too much of a coincidence for Rico to be in Cleveland the same time as Coco’s murder. That brought me back to her phone. Whatever she had in it must have been valuable to him. I became determined to find it, convinced it would clear Merle and point to Rico as the killer. First, though, I wanted to talk to Merle and make sure he didn’t have the thing hidden.

  While my plan formed in my head Corrigan peered at me, his eyes, slits. “What’s going on in that overactive brain of yours?”

  “When can I see Mr. Pokov?”

  “He’s being booked right now. Maybe after his arraignment.”

  “When will that be?”

  Corrigan shrugged. “When it goes on the docket.”

  I dug my nails into my palms. “Thanks. You’ve been so helpful.” I stood up to leave.

  “Claire, wait.”

  I hesitated, expecting some childish comment. Instead his voice softened and, with his eyes everywhere but on me, said, “I didn’t mean to say you were pigheaded.”

  My heart did a happy dance despite my brain’s reservations. That earlier argument had convinced me any relationship, especially one with a cop, was out of the question. Still, I felt obligated to reciprocate. “I understand. And I don’t really think you’re a horse’s ass.”

  He smiled and I returned to business. “Where did Ed go?”

  Corrigan, a chuckle tickling his words, said, “Probably outside talking to that lawyer who got his degree from Fisher Price.”

  I lowered my head so Corrigan couldn’t see the heat rising in my face. Some PI I was. Didn’t even notice Ed had disappeared. I hurried outside to catch up with my associate.

  I found him and Harold by Ed’s car in the parking lot adjacent to the police station. Harold nodded toward me. “My client—“

  “He means Merle.” Ed interrupted.

  “Yes, I do. As you know, he’s been arrested. The last time they brought him in, he had no alibi and a dirt match. Fortunately that fell through when a c
o-worker came forward and stated he’d seen Mr. Pokov at work at the time of the murder. The dirt match wasn’t enough, so much to their chagrin, the police couldn’t charge him. They kept looking for evidence. Of course, we’re also looking for evidence that Mr. Pokov didn’t commit the murder.”

  Watching Harold pull his too-short shirt sleeves to cover his bony wrists reminded me my client’s attorney was still a growing boy. “They’ve found some,” I added in a soft voice, “but so far we haven’t found any.”

  “A matter of time.”

  While Harold’s optimism probably assured his clients, it didn’t convince me. Nor did it seem to allay Ed’s worries. He fidgeted as if fire ants were on him. “Dammit! We gotta do something. Merle didn’t kill Coco. I’ve known him all my life. Guy wouldn’t stomp on a worm.”

  Harold checked his watch. “Don’t worry, Ed. The jury will be convinced of his innocence. Now I have to go see someone about Mr. Pokov’s arraignment. For his sake, the sooner it’s held, the better. From what I already know, the evidence is not ironclad. My objective is to find and exploit the weak spots.”

  I thought again about Rico. “Or prove someone else committed the crime.” I needed to get my hands on Coco’s phone, but I had no idea where to look. Tony denied having it and Rico was looking for the thing. The police had found Coco’s car in Rocky River Reservation, part of the Metropark system, and for sure, gone over it with great care. They didn’t find the phone either.

  An idea came to me, but it meant asking Corrigan for another favor, something I hated to do. But if I could save Merle, my pride didn’t matter. Or, I could ask Ed to ask Corrigan for the list of calls in Coco’s phone.

  Ed looked at me like I’d asked him if he could jump across the Grand Canyon. “Nah, Corrigan’s sweet on you. You should do it. You’d get better results.”

  Harold held up a hand. “If the police get her records, as Mr. Pokov’s defense attorney, I’ll have access to them as well.”

  “That’s great, but it’ll take time. I’m going back to the West City Lounge to talk to a witness.” I wanted to talk with Eric about Coco’s phone. The cops didn’t have it, nor did Rico or Tony. That left Eric, especially since he might have been the last person to talk to Coco. At the very least he could tell me if she had her phone with her when he saw her.