It Cannoli Be Murder

by Karoline Barrett

  Ed McCray was Dottie’s boyfriend. I do hate that term for anyone older than eighteen, but what else could I call him? I’d actually set them up. Ed is a widower who now lives where I used to live. In the apartment above Addair Funeral Home, owned by my ex-husband, Brian. “Who else was killed?”

  “Melanie Stewart. She plays Abbie Stevens on Sunnyvale Cove. I’ve been watching it for years. She was about eighteen when she came on that show. I can’t believe she’s been killed. At least it seems like she’s been killed.”

  “Oh no! She was supposed to be at the Mellon benefit last night. Both she and Rachael were so famous. You know they’re twins, right?”

  She fiddled with her necklace. “Well, of course. Everyone knows that. I heard they don’t have a lot to do with each other, though. From all accounts, they aren’t alike in looks or personality. I think Melanie was a little too wild for the senator’s liking. Maybe the senator was embarrassed by her.”

  I wondered if the twin thing had anything to do with their murders, or merely a coincidence. What were the chances that they both had enemies who happened to be in town at the same time, who decided to kill them at the same time?

  She waved her plate of cookies at me again. Fat, schmat. I took two. I didn’t want Sean thinking of a brittle, dry old tree limb when he looked at me. “Thanks, Dottie. I bet with Rachael’s murder, no one even noticed Melanie wasn’t there. I wonder if Rachael wondered where Melanie was?” What was I saying? I bet she was too dead to even have time to wonder about her sister. “What else did you read about her murder?”

  “They found her in the house she rented on the lake. This town attracts famous people. Who would have guessed?”

  “Not me, that’s for sure. Who found her?”

  “The real estate agent who had handled the rental agreement. They were supposed to meet yesterday before the benefit. The agent went into the house, found her dead, and called 911.”

  “Yikes! How was she killed?”

  “All I read was that it was under investigation.”

  I got up. “So hard to understand. Make sure your doors and windows are locked.”

  “Always,” Dottie responded. “You, too!”

  I squatted and said good-bye to Noelle and Beau who were not in the least upset at my leaving. “Be back later. Behave for Dottie.”

  “They’re always sweethearts.” Dottie pulled a napkin out of the pocket of her apron and wrapped up two more cookies. I thanked her and tucked them into my purse without protest.

  CHAPTER 6

  * * *

  “Did you hear about Rachael Rydell and her twin turning up dead while they were in town for that benefit at Mellon School?” Mary Sue asked as she guided me to a washstand.

  “Yes. Who hasn’t, unless they’re living under a rock? Olivia and I actually catered the benefit, and right in the middle, someone found Senator Rydell dead on the bathroom floor. Then Sean got a call about her twin sister’s death later on. Awful. I can’t believe it.”

  She adjusted me and turned on the water hose after I’d rested my head in the basin. “What does your man say about it?”

  “It’s under investigation, of course.”

  “Are you going to enlist our help again?” Mary Sue asked as she massaged my scalp through the lather. Next to a pedicure, I can’t think of anything as relaxing as having your scalp massaged, as far as beauty treatments go, that is. “Hmm,” was all I could manage.

  “Ok. Up we go.”

  I reluctantly sat up. She wrapped a clean, warm towel around my head. When Philip Baldelli was murdered, just over two years ago, I’d enlisted the help of the Destiny Divas, the book club I belong to, to help sort out suspects. Mary Sue is one of the divas.

  Sean had been sidelined during that case by a nasty horseback riding accident on his horse, Dusty. Dusty was part of the Destiny PD mounted unit. While Sean was out of commission, the town of Rigby’s Sergeant Jacoby had taken over the Baldelli murder case. He and Sean had counted on my help based on my crime-solving abilities in our town’s first murder case. Maybe “counted on” is the wrong term. Put up with my butting in may be more accurate.

  “Who do you think killed those two women?” Mary Sue followed me to her station.

  “I have no idea,” I replied as I settled in the chair. “As far as the divas helping me, I’m not involved in these cases.”

  She reached for a comb. “Ha! Something tells me you will be, hon. You want a few golden highlights? That’ll bring the blond out.”

  “Not today, Mary Sue, thanks. I’ll keep in mind for the future.”

  “You let me know when. We’ve made the national news, you know. Loretta Bucknell was my first customer this morning. Came in for a cut. I’m telling you, girl, if she didn’t have that awful color on her nails. I’ve told her a million times, ‘Loretta, that color is not for you. Let me help you pick one that flatters your skin tone, so next time you’ll look decent.’ Does she listen? No. Just keeps getting that garish purple.”

  I knew Mary Sue would get to the point of her story, eventually, so I kept quiet. If you interrupted her, you’d never get there.

  “Anyway,” she pulled the wide-tooth comb through my thick long hair and met my eyes in the mirror. “Like I was saying. Loretta was my first customer. She told me some of those TV news trucks, the ones with the big radar dishes on top? They drove…How much are we taking off?”

  “Three or four inches.” You have to stay in the moment with Mary Sue because she changes subjects faster than a lightning strike. If you’re not paying attention, you might answer yes when you mean no, and no when you mean yes. It gets messy, not to mention confusing.

  She picked up scissors then started up talking just where she left off. “…right down her street at five o’clock this morning. I haven’t had time to get to the TV, darn it. I wonder if I’ll be on the news?”

  I bit back a smile. “I don’t think so. Why would you be? You aren’t involved, are you? Did you kill one of them?”

  She stopped cutting and fussed with her beehive hairdo.

  “Good gravy, no. Why would I want to kill anyone? Except Donnie. And even that’s not all the time. He has his nice moments. How about your bangs? They’re kind of clumpy. Should I trim them, too?”

  I didn’t think my bangs were clumpy, but Mary Sue knew hair. Despite favoring hairstyles from the sixties for herself, which is peculiar because she was a kid then, she was surprisingly adept at staying current with trends. I’d put her up against a fancy, expensive shop any day. “Sure. Not too much, though. I want to look like a business owner, not like I’m starting second grade.”

  Her reflection in the mirror laughed as she waved her scissors in the air. “An inch. That’s all. I’ll shape them right up. Lately though, they’ve been rare. Donnie’s nice moments, that is. But you’ve heard enough about my ex-husband over the years. Not that I’d kill him. Probably. Tell me the truth, what does Detective Gorgeous think about Rachael and Melanie? He must have said something to you about their deaths.”

  I chuckled at her suitable nickname for Sean. “He’s actually not so much involved with their cases. My cousin Alex is. He’s a detective, and he transferred here from Buffalo.”

  “Whoever it is, I hope he solves them quickly. We keep having murders around here and I may pack up and leave.”

  “Mary Sue, you know very well you would not leave your kids and brand-new granddaughter.”

  “Heck no. I’d take them along. Speaking of the divas. I haven’t started The Sand Sisters.

  See what I mean by the change of subject? “Don’t worry. I haven’t either. We have plenty of time. And it looks like an easy summer read.”

  “Good. I don’t want anything too heavy to read. Especially in view of the murders.” She pulled her blow dryer out from the drawer, turned it on high, and pointed it at my head.

  CHAPTER 7

  * * *

  When I turned onto Lacey Street, I saw a familiar-looking expensive German sed
an in front of Barking Mad Books, and a black and pink ultra-expensive model in front of S. One might think they’d landed in Palm Beach. The only things lacking were palm trees, pink stucco overload, and a salty ocean breeze.

  One car I was happy to see, the other not so much. The gunmetal gray one was in all likelihood, Rocco’s. I didn’t know anyone else who drove one. Was he inside charming the pants off Emily? Figuratively speaking, naturally. On the other hand, she’s a grown woman and capable of making her own choices, right? I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, myself.

  The pink one belonged to Serafina. That I was happy to see. Her shop, called S. was named by me of all people. Serafina owns Serafina Perfumes. She does a lot of skin care now, too, so she should probably change the name of her company. I’d have to think on that. She fell in love with Destiny when she was here visiting her uncle then was suspected of his murder, as I’ve mentioned earlier. It wasn’t love at first sight, not even second sight, but she’s come around, for the most part. She had hired people to work in S., but occasionally we get lucky and she shows up. I stepped inside her shop, welcoming the blast of cold air, and looked around while Serafina waited on her customers.

  “Molly!” she squealed, when she was free. She strode toward me on three inch heeled pink strappy sandals. I don’t know how she walked in them. They made her look about six feet tall. Her hair was in a neat, classy top knot. “I’m so glad to see you. I wondered where you were.” She wrapped me in a hug. “You’re looking divine.”

  Hard to believe this was the same woman I first met during the Baldelli murder. I glanced at the oversized watch on my wrist. “Thank you, so do you! I have to be at the bakery in a couple of minutes. When I saw your car, I had to stop in and say hi.”

  “I’m glad you did. I’ve got some new eye cream. Cucumber, and a very secret ingredient. Works absolute miracles. And I’ve got a new beautiful creamy blush called Pink as You Like. Would you like samples?”

  “Okay, but I didn’t know my eyes were an issue.” I patted the skin under them.

  She pulled my hand away. “Don’t do that! The skin there is very delicate. You’ll make it all baggy. Your eyes are fine, you could pass for nineteen, but it’s never too late to start preventive maintenance. I’ve got my thirteen-year-old cousin on a regimen already. I see you have mascara on. Good girl. See the difference? Your eyes pop. Your hair looks wonderful. It’s getting so long.”

  I took a second or two to bask in her compliments. “I was just at Mary Sue’s.”

  Her smile dimmed and her lips tightened in disapproval. “I have to admit it looks good anyway. Maybe she’s improved. Have you been using the Leonesse Hair Goop I told you about?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She gave my hair a critical once-over. “Ah. I can tell. I know how you and your friends feel about Mary Sue, so I won’t say anything, but I’m not stepping in there. I’ll be back with your samples. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Mary Sue has a heart of gold,” I called out to her.

  “I’m not saying I don’t like the woman personally,” she replied over her shoulder. “I just don’t like her ability as a hairdresser. I’ll make an allowance for what she’s managed on you.”

  What kind of backwards compliment was that? But I wasn’t going to argue since that wouldn’t change her mind. I looked around. Serafina had done wonders with her shop. I loved the light barely-pink walls and the dark wood trim around the front door and window. It matched the color of the wood plank flooring. It reminded me of Barking Mad Books; Emily had the same floor, but her walls were dark blue.

  I was so glad Serafina was across the street from Bread and Batter. I’d had my doubts about her making a go in such a small town, but it seemed to have taken off. Not that we don’t have class here in Destiny, and there are many old-money families around, as well as new, but Serafina’s products aren’t cheap. Her perfume is heavenly, I can personally attest to that. Sean bought me a bottle for my last birthday. I won’t wear anything else now. Knowing Serafina the way I do now, she probably gave him a break on the price.

  “Here you go,” she said when she returned, handing me a cute pink bag with a wide black-and-white polka dot ribbon tied around it. I peered in. She’d deposited four large tubes, and two large rectangular boxes in it, none of which I suspected were really samples. She acts like she’s a tough woman, but she’s a soft cookie inside. “Let me know what you think.”

  “I will. Thanks.” I hugged her. “You’re very generous. How long are you going to be here?”

  “For a week or two. I’m at Castle Shore, as usual. Speaking of that. I can’t believe two women were murdered since I’ve been in town. Your detective talked to me about it at the hotel last night, but I had nothing to say. At least he didn’t suspect me this time. I haven’t seen anyone or anything strange since I’ve arrived. I was napping when he came calling.”

  “It’s hard to imagine that we’re dealing with this again.”

  Serafina fussed with her top knot. “I loved Senator Rydell. What an asset to our state. I’ve met her a few times. Lovely woman. What a shock. And her poor sister! I’m not into soap operas, but I know who she is. She’s always making Page Six.”

  “Page Six?”

  “It’s a column in one of the city’s papers. News of celebrities, New York City’s movers and shakers, etc.”

  “That’s right. I’ve heard of it. Speaking of celebrities. Have you ever heard Of Rocco Mastrostefano?”

  “Who hasn’t? He’s a New York City legend; the ultimate bad boy. Women adore him.” She made a face. “Idiots.”

  That was one way to describe him, I suppose. “He bought Sweet Hill Winery. He’s in the mafia, you know.”

  Serafina inspected her glossy light pink nails. “I know. He has a reputation for ruthlessness. And murder, speaking of.”

  “Have you ever met him?”

  “Once. He was at a corporate event that I’d attended, plus he’s always in the city papers. You’d think a guy with his reputation would want to avoid the paparazzi, but he craves the limelight. I love my Jake, but ay yi yi, that guy is hot. I can’t deny that.”

  “I can’t disagree with you. You remember Emily? She owns Barking Mad Books.”

  “Of course. Sweet woman. Why? Don’t tell me something happened to her, too?”

  “Nothing like that. Rocco came into Bread and Batter to ask us to cater the opening of Sweet Hill Winery. Emily came in right after he did, and it was love at first sight. For her. Rocco seemed just as taken with Emily. He said he was going to name a wine after her.”

  “Oh please. He’s as likely to name a wine for her as he is to enter the priesthood. And you’re going to cater this affair of his?” Her perfectly shaped blonde eyebrows registered disbelief.

  “Just desserts. Not his whole affair. I can’t come up with a reason not to.”

  “I suppose. But tell Emily he’s bad news,” responded Serafina. “She needs to stay away from him. He’s a shark and she won’t be able to handle him. I can tell her if you want.”

  I felt a chilly prickle on my neck, and not in a good way. “In what way is he bad news? Besides the whole mafia connection.”

  “What, that’s not enough? The guy’s more slippery than an eel. He’s married, but you’d never know it the way he goes through women. He’s a reputed killer. He’s somehow managed never to get caught.”

  “Married?” I croaked. “He’s married? What a jerk!”

  She stared at me, her face a study in incredulity. “Oh please, Molly. Even here in Perfectsville, I’m sure you’ve heard of people having affairs. It’s not the nineteen-fifties. I’d be more worried about the killing if I were you.”

  I held in the biting remark that was about to escape my lips. Serafina is from New York City. Even though Destiny grew on her, and she opened a shop here, she still pokes fun at our small town occasionally. “Yes, I know people have affairs. I’m just…I don’t know, shocked. For Emily’s sake. I’ve got to tel
l her. And of course, I’m worried about the killing thing. He’s not exactly the boy you want to bring home to mother.”

  “You can be sure Rocco won’t mention it,” she snapped. “The marriage, or the killings. All you have to do is read some of the New York City papers to see what I mean. He must have an evil angel watching over him to have evaded prosecution all these years.”

  “How do you know so much about him?” I wanted to know.

  “As I said, he’s always in the papers, or on the news. I think his wife grew up in the same neighborhood as my mother although they weren’t best friends or anything. They aren’t the same age. Rocco keeps her hidden away at their New Jersey mansion. Her name is Christina, or Caitlin, or something. My mother said she was incredibly shy. She must have her head in the sand about his business dealings and affairs. My mother can’t imagine how she ended up with Rocco.”