Craving Vengeance

by Valerie J. Clarizio

  Craving Vengeance

  A Nick Spinelli Mystery

  by Valerie J. Clarizio

  Published by

  Melange Books, LLC

  White Bear Lake, MN 55110

  www.melange-books.com

  Craving Vengeance, Copyright 2013 by Valerie J. Clarizio

  ISBN: 978-1-61235-732-4

  Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published in the United States of America.

  Cover Design by Caroline Andrus

  CRAVING VENGEANCE

  by Valerie J. Clarizio

  Nick Spinelli’s normal life as a homicide detective has been catapulted into a whirlwind of chaotic holiday adventures ever since he met the beautiful Shannon O’Hara.

  Nick had hoped to spend his first Valentine’s Day with Shannon in a traditional manner, starting with a nice dinner out on the town and then perhaps a long warm adventurous night in her arms. His plans quickly change when cupid is found murdered in a back alley. The investigation becomes more and more inconceivable, as Spinelli discovers that Shannon is linked to the victim. When another cupid turns up dead, and it is discovered that Shannon knows him as well, Spinelli is motivated to go undercover as a singing valentine dressed as cupid, complete with wings and a quiver of arrows. How many other cupids are at risk? Is Spinelli on the killer’s list as well? The stress ignited by the day’s events causes sparks to fly between Spinelli and Shannon as he struggles to piece it all together and stop the string of slayings.

  Dedication

  To my husband, Rick. Thanks for washing the dishes and entertaining the cat so I could lock myself in the computer room to write.

  To my brothers. Thanks for the tidbits of male perspective you provided to me whether I wanted them or not.

  A special thank you to my first critique partner, Virginia McCullough, who taught me about the craft of writing and red-lined my first manuscript more than I care to admit.

  Last but not least, thank you Darla Tong for taking the time to read and re-read every manuscript I wrote until I got it right.

  Table of Contents

  "Craving Vengeance"

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  About the Author

  Previews

  Chapter One

  Spinelli’s eyes popped open. He stared into the face of an angel. Was he still sleeping? How was it he had lured this beautiful creature into his life just a little over two months ago? He resisted the urge to run his fingers over her soft, milky white skin. She looked so peaceful when she slept. He would never be bored watching her sleep. Her slow even breaths mesmerized him. Was he dreaming? He almost went so far as to pinch his arm.

  Shannon stirred and flipped over. Her shiny red hair spread out over her pillow like wildfire. He didn’t need the nearby streetlight peaking through the window blinds to notice her fiery hair, but it certainly helped to illuminate its zest. Spinelli reached over and skimmed his hand over her soft hair. Silky strands sifted through his fingers sending an electrical current rippling throughout his body. He debated waking her, taking her again. He nearly chuckled at the thought. When they’d first met, they couldn’t stand to be with one another, now they couldn’t stand to be apart. Cupid’s arrow struck him, hard and fast, out of nowhere. He was done, toast.

  His cell phone vibrated on the nightstand. He reached over her to grab it before it woke her. Too late. Her beautiful emerald eyes fluttered open. He stared into the sea of green looking back at him, nearly forgetting about the call.

  Her full ruby red lips stretched into a soft smile. “Nick, your phone is vibrating.”

  His ears focused on the sweet sound of his name rolling off her tongue. No one ever called him by his first name. Everyone called him Spinelli or Detective, even Shannon did when they first met. But at some

  point over the past couple of months, she had started calling him by his first name. It nearly drove him insane every time she said it. His heart raced. He should take her again.

  “Nick,” she whispered, knocking him out of his reverie.

  “What?”

  “Your phone is still humming.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  He grabbed his phone from the nightstand. The time in the upper right-hand corner read 4:00 a.m. Captain Jackson’s face flashed across the screen. He tapped the screen and held the phone to his ear. “Spinelli here.”

  “Rise and shine, Spinelli. We got one for you, down on Water Street. Male, late 20’s, cause of death not obvious. I’ve already texted you the address. The officers on the scene are cordoning off the premises.”

  Though he wasn’t a morning person, not even close, a rush of adrenaline crashed through him like a tidal wave. This is what he lived for, catching killers. He sprang out of bed as Jackson’s words trailed off. “I’m on it,” Spinelli rasped before he disconnected the call.

  He retrieved his contact list and tapped Detective Walker’s profile. Walker answered with a growl. Spinelli gave him the details; then he did the same with Detective Marsh.

  Spinelli slid into a pair of jeans and pulled a long sleeved navy polo shirt over his head. He grabbed his Beretta 9mm from his nightstand and secured it in his holster before he slung the chain connected to his gold detective badge over his head.

  He’d nearly leaped through the bedroom door before he remembered Shannon still lay in his bed, entwined in his comforter. He’d rather it be that she were intertwined with him. He spun on his heel and in two long, quick steps was at her bedside.

  Her bright green gaze fixed on him. An amused look covered her face. He knelt down beside the bed. “I gotta go.”

  “I gathered that.”

  “So I’ll pick you up at your place tonight at 7:00?” he asked, confirming their dinner date.

  “Yes...no.”

  Spinelli arched a brow. “No?”

  Shannon rubbed her eyes. “I mean yes to dinner, but can we push it back to 8:00? I know that’s getting late, but I’m scheduled to do the singing valentines for the church fundraiser from 4:00 until 7:00.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll change the dinner reservation.”

  He leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly across hers. He knew he had to keep it light or he wouldn’t be able to leave.

  She didn’t play fair. She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him to her. He let her, he was weak. His mind was mush.

  He responded to her demand for more and deepened the kiss. His tongue passed through her lips. She tasted sweet. How did she always taste so sweet? His heart pounded in his chest.

  Suddenly, Captain Jackson’s words from moments ago echoed in his head. We got one for you, down on Water Street. Male, late 20’s, cause of death not obvious. Christ, he’d nearly forgotten he had a dead body to attend to.

  He pried his lips from Shannon’s, nearly needing the help of a mechanic with a crowbar.

  He rose to his feet, willing his knees to su
pport him. She always left him weak-kneed, and she probably didn’t have a clue. “I’ll see you tonight. I have a special Valentine’s evening planned for us.”

  * * * *

  Shannon watched Nick walk out the door, sure that if he were to turn and look at her one more time with those dark charcoal eyes, she’d probably melt in an instant. He had the most intense eyes.

  She curled into a ball and pulled the thick comforter up around her neck. His masculine scent coated the soft material, stimulating her senses, as if his mouthwatering kiss hadn’t already left her completely aroused. She wished he hadn’t had to leave. Another round of lovemaking would have been ideal. She’d had a taste of him, and now she couldn’t seem to get enough.

  She giggled at the thought of their rocky start. When she’d first met him she thought he was the most cold-hearted, egotistical human being she’d ever met. She’d never been more wrong in her life. He turned out to be exactly the opposite. Never in her life had she met anyone so caring, giving, and loving. His rough exterior was just a front he used to shield himself, as a result of his unfortunate upbringing. Growing up on the streets with a drug-addicted mother certainly took its toll on him.

  A sense of pride crept through her as she thought about all he’d accomplished; finishing high school on his own after his mother died when he was only sixteen, then going on to college, and becoming one of Milwaukee’s finest homicide detectives. It took a strong person to accomplish such. She admired his strength and determination.

  Chapter Two

  Spinelli pulled up to the crime scene to find Walker and Marsh already milling around. Several uniformed officers and a few plain-clothes individuals lingered about the area as well. Spinelli edged between his partners to take a look. “You gotta be shitting me. Is that Cupid?”

  Walker nodded. “What gave it away? The nude man with wings, the bow, or the quiver full of arrows?” Walker asked.

  “Very funny. What do we know? Has he been identified?”

  Marsh smirked. “Hmm, I don’t know about you, but I can tell you one thing for sure, I’m not searching him for a wallet.”

  Spinelli rolled his eyes and stuffed his cold hands into his pockets. “Are you two assholes about done now? Can we get down to business?” His breath fogged in front of him.

  Walker cleared his throat. “A beat cop found him here, just over an hour ago, about 3:45 a.m. The cause of death isn’t blatantly obvious. We’ll have to wait for the pathologist’s report. But judging from the vic’s bluish-gray color I’d guess he’s been here a couple of hours.”

  Spinelli glanced at the vic’s body, as it lay lifeless over a small snow bank pushed up against a brick building. Ice crystals sparkled over his murky colored skin. The air temperature hovered around twenty-six degrees. With the wind chill factor, it was probably in the teens.

  “Maybe the poor bastard was so drunk when he left one of the local bars that he passed out and froze to death,” a nearby beat cop offered as he stepped closer to them.

  Spinelli eyed the young cop for a moment. “Then what happened to his clothes? I’m guessing if he was in a bar, he would have been wearing clothes, right?”

  “Well, maybe he was mugged, and they took his clothes and wallet,” the beat cop stammered.

  “So you’re saying some thug happened by a guy passed out in a snow bank and instead of just taking his wallet, he stole his clothes, too? And then he intentionally left the wings, bow, and quiver full of arrows behind,” Spinelli stated as he shifted his gaze to Marsh. “I suppose that makes sense. What do you think, Marsh?” Spinelli asked.

  “I think I would have taken the wings. Chicks dig a guy with wings,” Marsh replied.

  “Dicks,” the young officer mumbled before he disappeared into the crowd forming around the perimeter.

  Though Cupid’s body had been carted off, Spinelli, Walker, and Marsh lingered at the scene for a while longer, combing the area for evidence. Nothing specific presented itself.

  The detectives returned to the precinct. It was nearly 7:00 a.m. Marsh made coffee as Spinelli hung pictures of the unidentified cupid on the crime board. He looked at Walker, “Not a good way to start Valentine’s Day, having to tell everyone Cupid’s been murdered.”

  Walker chuckled. “Yeah, now there’s absolutely no hope at all for those poor souls searching for true love.”

  Marsh walked up and handed Spinelli and Walker their coffee mugs. Spinelli wrapped his freezing hands around the mug. His fingers began to thaw. Another minute or so and the feeling might actually come back.

  All three detectives stared at the photos on the board.

  “You know, the guy looks like he’s about six feet tall or so and in great physical shape. It probably wouldn’t have been easy for someone to manhandle him one on one. And there’s no evidence of a struggle, either at the scene or on the body itself. The guy looks like he just fell asleep in a snow bank,” Walker commented.

  Spinelli yawned and skimmed his hand over his face. He didn’t like getting up early. The nerve of someone, murdering Cupid on Valentine’s Day before 8:00 a.m.

  Spinelli cocked his head to the side. “I bet he was poisoned.”

  The others looked at him and nodded.

  “It would be nice to get the pathologist’s report. Spinelli, why don’t you go down there and sweet talk Bethany into putting a rush on this case?” Marsh urged as a cocky smile stretched across his face.

  Spinelli scowled at Marsh. He was probably the last person the department’s pathologist wanted to see. He’d only gone out with Bethany a couple of times, but evidently she thought much more of the short relationship than he had. Now every time Spinelli had to deal with Bethany, she was colder to him than the mortuary cold chambers.

  Spinelli’s cell phone buzzed. He pulled it from his hip, tapped the screen, and pressed it to his ear. “Uh huh, okay. Hold on a second. Let me flip you on speaker so Walker and Marsh can hear.”

  They gathered around Spinelli’s phone. The officer working the front desk continued talking, “We’ve got a young woman down here looking for her brother. She hasn’t seen him since last night around 11:30. Judging from the description she gave, I thought he could be your John Doe from this morning. She brought a picture of him with her.”

  “I’ll be right out,” Spinelli replied before he ended the call.

  Spinelli made his way to the waiting area. He glanced at the uniformed officer working the front desk who pointed at a woman seated in the first row of chairs. She stared out the window. Her hands nervously fondled the shoulder strap of the purse resting on her lap. She looked to be in her early thirties. Her dark brown hair was pulled back and bound at the nape of her neck, allowing him full access to her face. He knew already that the dead cupid was her brother. She resembled him. God, how he hated this part—having to deal with the survivors. He always got such an adrenaline rush when he nabbed the killers—he lived for it—but looking into the eyes of the survivors nearly kicked his ass every time.

  He stepped toward the woman. His movement caught her attention, and she looked up at him through her long, thick lashes. Worry flashed in her eyes. She rose to her feet. Spinelli extended his hand toward her. “I’m Detective Spinelli. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m Cindy Carter. I’m looking for my brother. I think something happened to him. He didn’t come home last night,” she said as she reached into the side pocket of her purse and pulled out a small photo.

  Spinelli made no movement to take the photo. He already knew. “Why don’t you come with me, and you can tell me about your brother.”

  The woman nodded and followed him back to the detective area where Marsh and Walker waited. Spinelli glanced at their crime board. The pictures of Cupid had been removed. They walked past the board and into the interview room.

  Spinelli gestured toward a chair and Cindy took a seat. He sat across the table from her. Walker and Marsh pulled up chairs as well. “Ms. Carter, this is Detective Marsh and Detective W
alker. Can you tell us about your brother and why you think he’s missing?”

  “My brother’s name is Mike. He’s been living with me for the past several months because he was downsized out of his job about six months ago. Anyway, last night he left the house at about 11:30 p.m. which was unusual on its own, but it’s even stranger for him not to come home at all.”

  Walker leaned forward. “How old is your brother?”

  “Twenty-eight. I know what you must be thinking, but it’s just not like him not to come home.” Her eyes pleaded for belief.

  Walker continued the questioning. “Did he say where he was going when he left last night?”

  “Like I said, I thought it was odd that he’d be leaving at 11:30, so I asked him where he was going, and he just said out.”

  “Was he acting strange?” Marsh asked.

  Cindy shook her head.

  “What did he do before he became unemployed?” Walker questioned.

  “He was a numbers analyst for a brokerage firm downtown.”

  Cindy pulled the photo from the side pocket of her purse and handed it to Walker. Spinelli and Marsh craned their necks to glance at the photo as well. It was Cupid all right, minus the wings, and bow and arrows. Mike looked all business-like in the photo, wearing a gray suit, white shirt, and red tie.

  After a brief conversation with Ms. Carter, Spinelli knew Walker and Marsh were of like mind. She didn’t have a clue as to what happened to her brother, nor any knowledge about any life-threatening activities in which he may have been involved.

  Now for the hard part. Spinelli sucked in a breath and let it out as he captured Cindy’s gaze. “Ms. Carter, we received a call early this morning about a homicide down on Water Street. I’m sorry, but the victim fits your brother’s description, so I’m going to need you to come with me.”