The only thing Marlene had brought brand-new into the place was a bed and her bedding. There was no way she wanted to sleep on somebody else’s discarded mattress.
And her bed with its bright pink bedspread was where she spent most of her time. Her television was in the bedroom, and she often ate in there on a bed tray, worked on her computer and thought about the days when she’d felt so safe, so secure as a young girl growing up in her aunt Liz’s house.
She and Sheri had shared a room with twin beds covered in bright pink bedspreads, and it didn’t take a brain scientist to understand why Marlene had chosen a pink spread after her traumatic marriage.
She was thinking about snuggling into that pink material as she walked up the wooden staircase to the second-floor apartment. When she reached the landing, she knew something was wrong.
Her heart crashed against her ribs as she saw the damage to her door and that it hung slightly open on its hinges. Afraid to go inside, unsure who might still be there, she turned and hurried back down the staircase to the street where her car was parked.
She got inside, locked the doors and then called the police. As she waited for help to arrive, she tried to halt the shivers that trembled through her.
Who had been inside her apartment? Why would anyone break in? She had nothing of any real value to steal. Surely he hadn’t come here for her. Or had he?
* * *
“Got a call of a potential break-in at the apartment over Minnie’s store,” Erin Taylor, the dispatcher, called out.
“I’ll take it,” Detective Frank Delaney said, his car keys in hand. He’d just been about to head to his car and call it a night, but he knew who lived above Minnie’s place.
Of the three Marcoli sisters, Frank had found Marlene the most distant, the most standoffish, while working the investigation into her aunt’s disappearance. He had no doubt that she had fully cooperated with the investigation so far, but she’d appeared far more tightly controlled than her two sisters.
As he headed down the street toward Minnie’s Treasure Trove shop he wondered who in the hell would want to break into the tiny apartment above the junk store?
It was less than a three-block drive from the Wolf Creek Police Station to Minnie’s shop, and he saw Marlene’s old Chevy parked at the curb with her inside behind the steering wheel.
Frank pulled in just behind her, and as he got out of his car, she got out of hers. He couldn’t help the slight edge of pleasurable tension that roiled through his gut at the sight of her.
The evening light was more than kind to her, shining a luster into her pale blond hair and making the blue of her eyes more intense. He was accustomed to them radiating coolness, but tonight they shimmered with unabashed fear.
“The door is broken and was hanging open when I arrived home a few minutes ago,” she said before he could ask anything. “I didn’t go inside, so I don’t know if there is somebody still in there or not.”
Although she said the words calmly, matter-of-factly, Frank couldn’t help but notice that as she reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, her hand trembled.
“I’ll go check it out. Why don’t you return to your car and lock the doors until I come back for you?”
She nodded and quickly did as he asked.
Frank headed toward the stairs and pulled his gun from his shoulder holster. As always when faced with an unknown situation, his heart started a rapid thump and all of his senses came alive with a new level of awareness.
He stealthily crept up the stairs, catching the stench of garbage in the alley behind the store. In the distance, he heard a dog bark. What he didn’t hear was any movement from the apartment just ahead of him.
When he hit the landing it was easy to see what had concerned Marlene. The door had apparently been hit with enough force to spring the flimsy lock. It stood open about an inch and Frank tightened his grip on his gun as he used his foot to lever the door open all the way.
It was still light enough outside that as he entered the main room the damage was obvious. Broken dishes crunched beneath his shoes as he focused his attention on the other doors in the room...specifically, the door that led to the bedroom.
The door was open, and although Frank sensed nobody in the room, he entered in a crouched position with his gun leading the way. Just as he’d sensed, nobody was there. Nor was there anyone hiding out in the bathroom. But whoever had been here had left one heck of a mess behind.
He holstered his gun, checked the door that he knew led to inner stairs that went down to the store and found it locked, and then headed to the wooden steps that carried him back down to the street.
Marlene once again got out of her car to meet him. “There’s nobody up there now, but somebody definitely got inside and did damage.”
Some of the fear left her eyes and instead that cool detachment that was her trademark shone through. “Then I guess I’d better go see what’s been destroyed.”
She headed up the stairs and Frank followed, trying to keep his gaze off the shapely sway of her behind. There was no question that from the beginning of the investigation into Marlene’s aunt Liz’s disappearance a little over a month ago, Frank had found himself physically drawn to the beautiful blonde.
But he recognized it for what it was...a healthy dose of lust that would lead to nothing, a physical desire that he’d probably never follow through on.
Since his wife’s death three years ago, Frank had learned the fine art of not accessing his emotions too deeply. He didn’t date. He worked hard and suffered from occasional nightmares and never allowed himself to fantasize about any real happiness entering his life ever again.
He heard Marlene’s soft gasp as she stepped into the apartment. Before, he’d been looking for a perp inside, but now as he stepped in just behind her he took in the full scene before him.
Colorful crockery had been shattered on the floor; a plant had been overturned, the dirt from the large black planter scattered across the linoleum. In the bedroom, clothes had been pulled out of drawers and ripped from hangers in the closet.
“It looks like a three-year-old had a temper tantrum in here,” Frank observed as they returned to the main room. “Made any three-year-olds angry lately?”
Marlene looked around the room. “Nothing major was done. It doesn’t look like anything has been stolen. It does look like a temper tantrum.” She finally turned her focus on him. Her ice-blue eyes displayed a faint hint of relief. “Not a three-year-old, but maybe a twenty-two-year-old,” she replied.
“Before we talk any more, let me give my partner Jimmy a call and get him over here. He can pull a fingerprint off a butterfly’s wings and he might be able to get something off the door or some of the broken pieces of the dishes.”
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and quickly made the call. “Why don’t we wait downstairs for Jimmy to get here? I don’t want us to contaminate the scene any more than we already have.”
She gave a curt nod and this time she followed him down the stairs. When they reached the sidewalk the shades of evening were beginning to grow deeper. She stood against her car and an awkward silence prevailed between them.
Frank tried to think of small talk, but he was definitely rusty. It had been a long time since he’d tried to make small talk with anyone other than his partners and the other cops at the station.
He finally fell back on what he did best—work. “So, who is the twenty-two-year-old who might have had a temper tantrum in your apartment?”
“Michael Arello.”
Frank frowned. “Didn’t we check him out when Roxy was being threatened?”
“He worked for Roxy at the restaurant for a couple of days and got fired for stealing a ham. Then a couple of days ago Sheri hired him to work for us at the Roadside Stop. She felt sorry for him and he
promised her he’d be a good worker for us.” Marlene’s lush lips thinned a bit. “Sheri is a soft touch and wanted to believe him, and then last night I fired him for stealing.”
“Case solved,” Frank said.
“I hope it’s that easy,” she replied.
At that moment Jimmy Carmani pulled up in his little sports car and braked to a halt just behind Frank’s car. He got out of the car and with a jaunty walk approached them. He carried a black crime kit and wore his usual pleasant smile, which always put people at ease.
He was an Italian, young at twenty-eight to have earned his detective status, but Frank admired his tenacity and his intelligence, and trusted him completely to always have his back.
Although Wolf Creek was a small town and it was unusual for the size of the town to have three detectives, the three men often worked in concert with the police department in the nearby bigger town of Hershey.
“Hey, Frank, Marlene, I hear we have a bit of a problem here.”
“Looks like a bit of destructive mischief,” Frank explained. “Marlene doesn’t think anything was stolen. There’s a broken door and a mess up there and I just hope you might be able to pull a couple of prints off something for us.”
“I’ll do my best. Should I head on up?”
“Yeah, and we’ll stay down here out of your way.” Frank glanced across the street where the Wolf Creek Diner was open. “Maybe I can talk Marlene into having a cup of coffee with me across the street and we can chat a little more while you do your thing.”
Jimmy nodded. “If you aren’t back here when I’m done, I’ll head across the street and find you.” As he headed up the stairway, Frank turned to look at Marlene.
“What about a cup of coffee instead of standing around out here on the street?”
“Okay,” she said, although he thought he heard a bit of reluctance in her voice.
Together in silence they walked across Main Street to the café, which appeared deserted. Although the place was popular in the early evenings, after seven-thirty or so most people had already eaten and left.
Frank gestured her toward a nearby booth and he slid into one side while she took the seat across from him. It took only a second for one of the two waitresses to appear at the booth.
“Two coffees,” Frank said with a questioning look at Marlene.
She nodded and folded her arms as if creating an unconscious barrier between them. Frank leaned back against the booth, hoping that he didn’t appear intimidating. He’d been told many times that he came off a bit stern when interrogating people.
He forced a smile. She didn’t return it. He cleared his throat with a touch of discomfort and pulled a small pad and pen from his jacket pocket. “Why didn’t you call us last night when you caught Michael stealing?”
She released a faint sigh and unfolded her arms. “He’s just a kid. I didn’t want to cause him any real legal issues. I told him to put down the box he was trying to sneak out to his car and to leave and not come back.”
“What was in the box?”
Her slender shoulders lifted and then fell. “A couple loaves of bread, a couple jars of apple butter, some cheese and a jar of pickles. I can’t imagine why he’d risk a job for what would have cost him so little, and if he had told us he was hungry, Sheri would have given him whatever he wanted to eat.”
The conversation halted for a moment as the waitress appeared with their coffee. Frank frowned thoughtfully as she left them once again. “And what was it that he stole from Roxy’s restaurant?”
“About half a ham. Both times he stole far more food than he could eat by himself. Sheri and I were speculating this afternoon if maybe his parents are having some sort of financial troubles.”
“I know Sean and Kim Arello and they’re doing just fine. They definitely don’t need Michael to steal food for their dinner table.”
The conversation halted again as the waitress reappeared at the table to offer warm-ups for the coffee they’d barely touched. Marlene instantly curled her long, manicured fingers around the cup and looked as though she’d rather be on another planet than seated at the booth across from him.
“Anyone else been giving you problems? Either at the store or in your personal life?” he asked when the waitress had departed.
“The store is my personal life,” she replied. “I’ve only been back in town about a year, and no, nobody has been giving me any problems.” She raised the cup to her lips and took a sip of the coffee, then carefully placed the cup back where it had been. “I haven’t had any issues with anyone that I’m aware of.”
“I’m sure it was probably Michael or one of his friends,” he said. She finally met his gaze, and beneath the cool blue of her eyes, he thought he saw more than uncertainty. He thought he saw a whisper of sheer terror.
It was a response that appeared to be a bit over the top for the situation, and in all his dealings with Marlene throughout the investigation of her missing aunt Liz, she hadn’t struck him as the over-the-top type.
Maybe he was mistaking the terror for secrets―and there was nothing that intrigued Frank more than a beautiful blonde with secrets.
Chapter 2
They hadn’t been sitting very long before Jimmy found them, breaking the awkward silence that had again descended between them. Marlene had always found Frank incredibly handsome and equally intimidating.
With a touch of premature silver at the temples in his dark hair, and a face that featured sharp angles and keen blue eyes, he emanated steely hardness with a touch of male elegance.
“Nothing on the door,” Jimmy said as he slid into the booth next to Frank. “It looks to me like whoever got in used his shoulder and just broke through the flimsy lock.” He smiled apologetically at Marlene. “It was a crappy lock. I noticed you have a dead bolt. Was it locked when you left the apartment earlier?”
“Not the dead bolt, just the other one. I normally don’t use the dead bolt unless I’m at home,” she explained.
“I tried to pull some prints from some of the bigger pieces of the broken dishes, but I got nada. Most of the pieces were too small to even try to pull up any prints. Sorry I couldn’t be any more help.”
“I appreciate you trying,” she replied.
“I did manage to get the door back on the frame so that the dead bolt still works okay, but if I were you I’d have Larry Samson come over and just put in a new door and locking system,” Jimmy said. “Anything else you need, partner?”
“No thanks, Jimmy. I’ll take it from here.”
Jimmy stood and grabbed his bag from the floor. “Good luck, Marlene. I’m sure we’ll be talking soon again, in any case.”
“Thank you, Jimmy.” She also stood, more than ready to get back to her place and start the cleanup. If she thought she was going to get rid of Frank that easily she was sadly mistaken.
He was instantly at her heels and fell into step with her as they crossed the street once again. “I’ll check out Michael Arello, but first I’ll help you with the cleanup.”
“That’s not necessary,” she protested.
“I insist,” he replied with a hint of toughness in his tone that instantly stiffened her back. “I still want to do a thorough sweep to make sure Jimmy didn’t overlook anything.”
She hated the invasion into her personal space. She hated that this had happened at all. The unexplained disappearance of her aunt Liz had already shaken her badly. This assault to her things, to her very sense of safety, was the last thing she needed. All she wanted to do for the remainder of the night was to dead-bolt her door and curl up into a ball in the middle of her pink bedspread and pretend that everything was all right.
But it was impossible to pretend that everything was all right with Detective Frank Delaney climbing the stairs just behind her.
St
epping into the apartment, she was again struck by how senseless the crime had been. “Do you have a broom?” Frank asked.
She looked at him in surprise.
He offered her a small smile that lit his eyes with unexpected warmth. “I figured I could sweep up in here and you could go into the bedroom and check out your clothing situation...see if anything has been damaged.”
“Okay, if that’s the way you want to do it.” She pulled a broom and dustpan from the small pantry closet. She handed him both. “Knock yourself out.”
She turned and went into her bedroom, where an array of clothing was cast about the top of the bed and the floor like a designer gone mad. She began checking each item as she placed it back in the drawers and hung things back in the closet. No damage, but an outrage built inside her at the fact that somebody had come into her home and touched her things.
She tamped down the outrage, instead reaching for the numbness of emotions that had held her in good stead for the past year of her life.
As she worked in the bedroom, she heard the sound of Frank sweeping up the shattered dishes and then dumping them into the trash bag.
She was grateful to discover that nothing had been cut or slit or otherwise destroyed. It did, indeed, appear to be a crime of mischief rather than the vicious attack of a brutal man.
For an entire year she’d been afraid...so afraid that he would decide they weren’t finished, that somehow she still belonged to him.
But there was no way she believed this damage was done by Matt McGraw. If it had been Matt, the damage would have been devastating.
Nobody knew the details of her two-year marriage and subsequent divorce from Matt, and that was how she intended to keep it. Not even her sisters or her aunt had any real details about her marriage or why she had left to return home as a single woman.
Matt was a monster from a bad dream, and she was only grateful that she didn’t believe that a monster had been in her home at some point while she’d been gone today.
Lethal Lawman Page 2