by Julie Ramson
Since she was leaving town so soon, she insisted I take the rest of the cookies home. I agreed, but only to help her out. She gave me two big bags filled with the fresh cookies. We walked to her front door and I hugged her. She was such a delightful old girl. I told her to have a great time and enjoy the sunshine in San Diego.
I started down the steps. Oops! There was Digs, leaning against a police car and looking like a bad thunderstorm. Sean was next to him. He looked just as furious. I gulped. This was not going to be pretty.
“Oh, Mrs. O’Brien, you must come out and meet my brother,” I said, pulling her out the door by the arm. “He’s a homicide detective and he is working on solving Lily’s case. And this is a friend of his, uh, Digs - uh, Hank.” I was babbling as we got to the patrol car and I knew it.
“Oh what a pleasure!” Mrs. O’Brien beamed at both of them. “I’m so glad to meet the detective on Lily’s case! I should tell you, though, Detective, I am also having the priest over today, so I am. To bless Lily’s house. After yesterday, I decided that what that house needs is a good blessing. I could have him bless mine, too, I guess. Nothing like a blessing, I always say. He can do it before I leave for San Diego. Why once.....”
I could see Sean and Digs trying to stifle their anger and be pleasant. They both shook her hand and smiled, though Dig’s smile looked a bit forced. “A blessing is a wonderful idea, Mrs. O’Brien,” Sean said. He was trying not to grit his teeth.
“We were looking for Maggie,” Digs added with a tight look. “We thought she might be here.”
Sean drew a deep breath and gave Mrs. O’Brien his most charming smile. “We’ve heard about the wonderful Mrs. O’Brien who gave Maggie those great cookies a few days ago!” he said. He was really trying. Police Department PR and all that.
“Oh, yes, I just love to bake.” Mrs. O’Brien just glowed. “I gave her another two bags of fresh cookies today. I enjoy the baking but I usually make more than just I and Paws, that’s Lily’s cat, can eat. So I love to share.”
“How nice,” Sean said. “Now we just have to get Maggie to share, too.” He gave me a meaningful glance. I rolled my eyes.
“Find your own wonderful Mrs. O’Brien,” I said. “These are mine.”
“Now, now,” Mrs. O’Brien said. “You all come back when I get home from San Diego and I’ll make each of you a full batch of your favorites, so I will.”
We promised to come back and Digs and Sean kept a pleasant expression on their faces until Mrs. O’Brien had gone into the house. Then all pretense of manners stopped.
“Just what in the hell are you doing, Maggie?” Digs snapped. He took my arm and marched me to the car. “You think this is funny? You idiot!” He shoved me into the passenger's seat and walked around to the driver’s side. He got in behind the wheel. Sean was standing on the passenger side of the car glaring at me. He reached in and, daring me to say one word, grabbed one of the bags of cookies off my lap. He stomped off and climbed into his unmarked blue sedan. With one last dirty look at me, he drove off.
Digs had just started. He was off on a tirade, waving one arm while driving with the other. Frankly, I tuned him out. After a few minutes, I’d had enough.
“Just stop!” I yelled “You jerk! You march into my life, break into my office and my apartment and think you can just take over my life because my idiot brother tells you to! To hell with that! I have no say - no privacy - no freedom! I’m just supposed to snap to and do exactly what I am told to do - well, forget it! You bully me, grab me and act as though you have any right to tell me anything - and another thing -
Digs pulled over and stopped the car. He grabbed my jacket and pulled me to him and kissed me. Really kissed me. Hard. As though he meant business. It was getting hard to think. I was still mad though. He lifted his head and kissed me again. Probably still mad. Another hard, business kiss. I might still be mad. He pulled me tighter and ran his hand up under my sweatshirt. Yow! Okay, maybe not so mad.
Finally, he stopped. He pulled back and said, “You’re right.” His one hand smoothed my hair, the other stayed under my sweatshirt for a few moments, then withdrew. “Sean asked me to step in and I did. We think the same guy killed Mrs. Hastings and Louie Bacci in Cicero. We don’t know why. It’s tied up with Mrs. Hastings’ house somehow. And maybe even the box of money and the skeleton found in the forest preserve last summer. We should have talked to you about it but after whoever it is attacked you, and knowing he’s a killer, we didn’t want to scare you. But you’re right. I’m sorry.” Those damn blue eyes. His finger stroked my cheek.
God, I hate it when men kiss me stupid and then apologize for being jerks so I can’t even scream at them. Or stay mad.
I took a deep breath. “Digs, then come clean. What is your real name? What is your involvement in this case? Who the hell are you? What is going on here?”
Digs/Hank studied my face and put both hands back on the steering wheel. “Maggie, let’s go home. I promise I will tell you everything.” He grinned. “Over cookies.”
Once home, Digs took Killer out for a business tour of the parking lot. I put on coffee. I watched out the window. It had gotten dark out even though it was still afternoon. Probably snow again. This was getting old.
Killer and Digs came back in bringing cold, damp air with them. Digs threw his jacket on the chair and Killer ran to his food dish, ever hopeful. He then sniffed and realized I had the cookies out and raced over to my legs. I almost tripped on him and had to grab the counter. “Dammit, Killer, move!” I snapped. He put his head down and started to slink away. “Oh, Killer, baby, don’t go.” I knelt down and hugged his huge head. “I’m sorry.” I crooned to him. “I forget how you hate yelling! You’re my baby! Have a cookie, baby!” Okay, so I’m a sucker for that big coward. He’s my Killer.
“Is that how to get you to be sweet?” Digs drawled. He was leaning against the kitchen door. “Just look sad?”
“Only works with dogs. And not human dogs.” I got up and shot him a glance. I put a plate with one cookie for him on the table. “And that’s all the cookies you get until I get some answers!” I put the pot of coffee and two cups on the table and sat down across from him. The plate in front of me had several cookies on it. The files from Sean were stacked on the side of the table. Digs sat down across from me.
“So.......talk,” I said, munching one of my cookies.
Digs looked down and drew in a deep breath. “What do you want to know?”he asked.
“Everything. Starting with your real name. The one you were born with.” I propped my elbows on the table and raised my eyebrows.
“Robert James but I grew up as RJ. McCarthy in Iowa. My parents are farmers and I grew up in a small town near Cedar Rapids. I don’t get back much, not as much as I would like. I went to school in Wisconsin and then joined the government. I left the government a few years ago and now do some freelance investigation......of a kind.”
He looked at me steadily. “I really can’t say more about my government work. And I have had some other names over the years.” He grinned. “Some I won’t tell you.”
I digested this. Probably CIA or FBI, something like that. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“So what’s with ‘Hank’ now?” I asked.
“That’s the name I first met Sean with. I was doing some undercover work. The name just stuck.”
“Does Sean know your real name?” I asked.
“He does now, but Sean’s a good guy. He just rolls with my names.”
“So when did you get the name, ‘Digs’?”
“Toots, that’s a story for another night and a bottle of wine.” Digs laughed.
“Why did Sean call you? For the case or for me? When did he call you? Seemed you got here pretty fast.” My mind was racing.
“I was already here.” He sighed. “I’m working on some mob dealings. We think the box found by the kids last summer is mob money. The skeleton had a ring on, a mob symbol. It’s gold with black enamel
and a serpent on top. Ruby eye. I was called in when this skeleton had been found. Sean knew I was here because of it. We think there may be a connection between that murder and Mrs. Hastings and Louie but we can’t figure it out.” He stopped.
“Sean had filled me in on the Hastings case even before you were attacked. The bullet that killed Mrs. Hastings matches the bullet that killed Louie Bacco in Cicero. When you were attacked, Sean saw this as a way to get me involved in the Hastings and skeleton cases without causing any questions. I’m just an old buddy watching his sister. We thought I could keep working the cases and keep an eye on you, too.” He gave me an rueful smile, “but we underestimated just how much of a pain in the ass you would be.”
“Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment. Lord knows I try!” I grinned at him.
“Now do I get more cookies?” He smiled back. I got up and filled his plate. Killer looked up hopefully as I passed him, so I gave him one, too. One of Digs’ cookies, not mine. I sat down and passed him the plate and refilled his coffee cup.
Digs leaned forward. “Now your turn, Toots. Why aren’t you married like Mary Grace?”
I gave a huge sigh and rolled my eyes. I closed them, as if asking for strength. “Digs, you sound like my grandmother! Let’s see. I am not married because I am not really the marrying kind. Not good material. I am stubborn, opinionated and” - I raised an eyebrow, “occasionally hot tempered.” I lifted my cup and eyed him over the rim. “And those are my virtues.”
Digs laughed but also studied my face. “Yeah, I’m convinced. I’ve seen the stubbornness, the pigheadedness, the temper.....”
“Hey, wait! I never said pigheaded! I am not pigheaded - just sometimes tenacious and most often....right.” I got up and put my cup in the sink. “And now, I’m tired. I’m going to lie down for a while and then tackle these files.”
Digs was suddenly behind me, arms coming around my waist. “I like stubborn, pigheaded women.” He kissed the back of my neck. Whoa. That went all the way down my spine.
“Easy, Fella. Just telling me your real name doesn’t give you neck rights.” I felt his warmth, my warmth. This had to stop.
“Sure it does, Toots. And think how much better you will rest after......”
The cell phone rang. Saved by the bell! Maybe saved? I wasn’t sure. I picked up the phone. “Mag, get Digs. There’s been another murder.”
“What? Who? Where?” Digs grabbed the phone. I grabbed it back and put it on speaker.
“Digs? Sean here. We’ve found another body. Victor Castelletti - lived next door to Lily Hastings. Has been dead a while. Get over here.” He hung up.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Digs hurried into the living room and picked up his jacket. “Stay here, Mag. I’ll fill you in when I get back,” he started.
“In your dreams. No need. I’m going with you. Don’t bother arguing. It will just waste time.” I picked up my purse, coat and cell phone.
He started to argue, then thought better of it. He grabbed Killer’s leash. “At least take Killer with you. Coward that he is, he looks big and scary.” With that, he, Killer and I all hurried through the door. We got in his car, Killer in the back seat and took off.
We got to Lily’s house in record time. Sean was waiting for us, along with several cops in uniform. “We got a call from Mrs. Gorman. She lives on the other side of Castelletti. She said she thought she saw someone there. She said because of Lily and all, she was scared. We sent a patrol car and they found the back door locked but the house looked trashed. By the time we got here, patrol had found a man’s body in the basement. Not pretty. Looks like he’s been dead for several hours, maybe a day or two at most.”
I grabbed Sean's arm “Mrs. O’Brien!” I exclaimed. “Where is she?” I called to Killer and ran over to her house. I pressed the bell over and over. “Mrs. O’Brien!” I called.
“Oh dear, you scared me, you did! I’m glad you’re here.” Mrs. O’Brien came up behind me on the porch. “I’ve heard about poor Mr. Castelletti! I was just talking to Irma, that’s Mrs. Gorman. She called me when she saw the person in the house earlier. I told her to call Mr. Flaherty - detective? Sargent? I couldn’t remember. But I knew he was your brother and I said, ‘Irma, that’s the man to get, it is. He has a wonderful sister. Nice girl.’ So she called your brother and here we are!”
I gave Mrs. O’Brien a hug. “I’m so glad you are okay!” I said. “Mr. Castelletti, was he old? Young? Did anyone else live there?
“Oh, he’s in his fifties, I would say. Bit of a loner. Not very friendly, so he wasn’t. Lived alone as far as I know. None of the neighbors knew him at all. He moved in late last summer and didn’t even come to the block party in September! Can you believe?” She shook her head.
“What did he do for a living,” I asked.
“I don’t know, dear. I never saw him leave for a job but he did go out sometimes at night. We never saw anyone visit him, not that Irma or I would watch. But still.....no one ever came. Not even at Christmas.”
I hugged her again. She was such a frail little thing! “Are you all right?” I asked.
She smiled. “I’m fine, dear, but it’s just as well I am leaving tomorrow. Too many bad things here! Poor Father Michael. I have to have him bless all these houses now! He’s coming for a spot of tea after supper.”
“That’s good but right now I suggest that you go back in the house and keep Killer with you. I’ll come back to get him, I promise.”
“Yes, I think I will dear. All this excitement! I must say, I’m a bit miffed that I am leaving and will be missing it all!” Mrs. O’Brien took Killer’s leash and entered the house. She turned to me and said, “Now that brother of yours will keep an eye on you, right? And that other nice young man will too?”
I smiled and said, “Yes, they certainly keep an eye on me. More than you know.” She went in and I walked back to the Castelletti house.
I walked up to Sean and Digs. They were standing in the yard in front of the house with two young cops and another man who looked vaguely familiar. “Sean, what happened? I checked on Mrs. O’Brien and she’s okay.”
“Hello, Maggie. How are you?” The other man spoke up. I turned and looked at him more carefully. He was about 6'1" and had very dark hair, neatly combed. His dark eyes were fringed with the kind of thick eyelashes that most women would kill for. He wore a dark navy cashmere coat and had an easy grace about him. I couldn’t place his name but I certainly remembered that face and those eyes!
“Hi.” I must have sounded a bit uncertain.
“Brice Connally. We met two years ago at the annual Museum Ball. You were with Norm Wainwright.”
Oh, yeah. Norman the Boring. I remembered that ball. One of a hundred nights I spent being charming and smiling while Norman worked the room. He was a fund raiser for the Museum Council, very high up. He expected the woman on his arm to work the room with him, using any position – like my law firm – to help get donations. One of the many things we did not see eye to eye on. Norman liked my status as an associate at Cavenaugh and Hartmann more than he liked me, I think. I was good for his image.
Now I placed Brice. He was the head of the Chicago FBI. What was he doing in on this? He was a Very Important Person in Chicago. I was flattered he remembered me.
I gave him a smile. I remembered more. He had been there with Karen O’Donnell. Slim, dark haired, willowy Karen. We had gone to St. Patrick’s High School together. She had the blue eyes to go with the dark hair and an innocent look that could fool Satan himself. I hated her and had since I first met her as a freshman.
Remember the girl that the nuns always put in charge when they had to leave the room? The one who was supposed to rat on all the kids who talked while the nun was gone? That was Karen. And, the little creep - she did. Rat that is. She lorded her “pet” position over all of us while she ran wild. She did the heavy grope thing even as a freshman and the minute any of us got interested in a guy.....there was Karen, batting her e
yes and shaking her curves to take him away. She thought it was because she had charmed them but I always thought it was because she put out. Boys at that age will take up with a goat if she puts out. Actually, boys of any age will probably take up with a goat if she puts out.
She had always made me feel like a ten foot tall giraffe.
Oh, yes, I remembered her.
“Of course, Brice. You were with Karen O’Donnell.” I smiled.
He laughed. “Karen Vanelli now. She’s married and divorced. I had to take her that night for political reasons but man, she was a piece of work. ” He shook his head. “Never again,” he chuckled.
I warmed toward Brice, grinning at him. Anyone who could see through Karen couldn’t be all bad. Digs just stood behind me, taking all of this in.
“Hi Hank,” Brice nodded at Digs and took my arm. “Let’s step over here, out of the way, Maggie. I think you and I have a lot in common.”
Hank? So Brice knew him. How?
“Brice.” Digs' tone was neutral. He stepped up and put his hand on my other shoulder. “Maggie, didn’t I hear you say you had talked to Mrs. O’Brien? I think you should stay here. We need to know what she said.” He was talking to me but never took his eyes off Brice.
Brice paused. “Oh, we won’t go far, don’t worry.” Brice still held on to my arm. Digs still kept hold of my shoulder. I felt like the wishbone at Thanksgiving.
I tried to shake loose of both. “I do have to go back and check on Killer. My dog,” I said to Brice. “He’s with Mrs. O’Brien. Also, I need a bathroom. Fires – and murders - make me nervous.” I laughed. Babbling again.
Both men let go of me but never stopped looking at each other.
Great. High testosterone alert!
I moved back toward Sean. Let Digs and Brice deal with each other. Sean and Jimmy were talking to the ME - the Medical Examiner. I stepped next to him and listened while Dr. Cargill explained what he had found. He was in his 50's, balding, with keen light brown eyes. He had a kind face and a gentle way about him.