Follow the Money (Detective Kate Rosetti Mystery Book 3)

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Follow the Money (Detective Kate Rosetti Mystery Book 3) Page 8

by Gina LaManna


  “We are the police,” I hollered back.

  But I gave Jimmy a look, and he nodded in agreement. It was time to get out of Angel’s apartment before she got back. We made our way to the doorway where the clerk stood just outside in the hallway, his toes not a centimeter over the line.

  “Did you find anything?” he asked anxiously. “Is Ms. Trails okay?”

  “It’s fine. Incident with the cat,” I said. “We appreciate your cooperation.”

  “I’d appreciate a kind word with Mr. Gem,” he said. “About my timely cooperation with your needs.”

  “I’ll try to remember that,” I said. “But I’m not that friendly with your employer.”

  “I don’t know,” the clerk argued. “If you have his direct line—”

  “I’ll let him know you’ve been a great help when I see him next,” I said impatiently as we reached the ground floor. It was a relief to make it outside. I faced Jimmy as we reached our cars. “Angel can’t know we went inside her apartment.”

  “That concierge might tell her just to show off. He’s all puffed up because he got a phone call from Gem personally. He doesn’t seem like the type to keep that sort of thing quiet.”

  “Then she can’t know what we found,” I said. “If she suspects we saw the cocaine, there’s no telling what’ll happen. She’ll be spooked. If Ricci’s involved, she might let him know.”

  “We have to assume she’ll find out,” Jimmy said. “Which means if we want to talk to Angel, we have to find her before she gets back and talks to our front desk friend.”

  I pulled out my phone and dialed Asha.

  “I’m almost done with your mom’s report,” she said. “I didn’t know it was so urgent.”

  “That’s not why I’m calling. My mom’s thing can wait. Right now, Jimmy and I are out looking for a woman who goes by the alias Angel at the Ladies of Luxury club. Her real name is Hannah Trails.”

  “You want me to see if I can find her?”

  “We are wondering if she’s with Ricci. And if not, we need to get to her as quickly as possible.”

  “I’ll do what I can and get back to you. Twenty minutes.”

  “In the meantime,” I said. “Keep a tab on Ricci’s whereabouts and let us know if he turns up. Credit cards, phone calls, that sort of thing.”

  “I’m already on it. He’s been off the grid for over twenty-four hours. At least electronically. The dude must carry a lot of cash.”

  I thought back to the half kilo in the safe. “Yeah, I think he does okay on cash flow. I’m not sure he has the sort of job that requires he report income.”

  “I’ll deepen the search, look for some camera footage if I have the time. Anything else?”

  “Actually, a few addresses.” I rattled off a couple of names to Asha, and she promised to have their home and work addresses in my inbox by the time we disconnected.

  “What do you want with Kevin Cox?” Jimmy asked when I was off the phone. “He retired from the department a few years ago.”

  “He was the primary on a case that might be relevant,” I said. “He would’ve chased down Ricci for questioning a while ago. If I’ve learned one thing in my years as a cop, it’s that old habits die hard. People get caught because they’re creatures of habit.”

  “That’s all you’ve learned from being a cop?”

  “That, and where to get discounts on coffee and donuts across the city,” I said with a grin. “But that’s only because I had the good fortune of being saddled with you as a partner.”

  “I am the expert on free food. So, where to?”

  I looked at the second address Asha had sent over. “What do you say we pay the dearly departed Peg Leg’s family a visit?”

  “Are you talking about his parrot?”

  “He was married with three kids.”

  “And you think he talked business at home?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But I do know we’ve got half an hour to kill until Asha gets back to us on Angel and Ricci. Maybe his wife knows where he was hanging out, who his friends were, that sort of thing. It can’t hurt.”

  “Oh, yes it can,” Jimmy said. “But I suppose you’re making me go anyway.”

  I thumbed toward our vehicles. “Saddle up, partner.”

  Chapter 8

  I beat Jimmy to Peg Leg’s former house. He lived in a small place near Phalen Park. The neighborhood had aged somewhat better than my own. It’d even experienced a resurgence of late as some young kids moved in and revamped the cheap old houses into cute little cottages.

  Peg Leg’s house was not one of the cute little cottages. It was a sturdy old thing that had seen better days, but proudly stood its ground as a piece of history against the wave of fancy rebuilds.

  Jimmy pulled up five minutes later. I’d lost him somewhere on 94, and the reason became apparent when he stepped out of the car with two coffees in hand. A crumpled bag of mini donuts sat on the seat behind him, and his shirt was dusted with powder.

  “You’re a cliché,” I said, brushing a hefty chunk of powder from one of his shoulders before reaching for my coffee. “Thanks.”

  Jimmy nodded, and we made our way to the front door. I gave a rap of my knuckles against the peeling army-green wood.

  Unlike my knock on Angel’s door, my first attempt at Tony’s house was met with an eruption of noise. I barely had time to step back before the door was thrown open and three boys, all in various stages of undress, stood before me. They looked like seals at the zoo waiting to be tossed fish in exchange for performing a trick.

  “Hi,” I said. “Is your mom home?”

  “Get away from there,” a female voice called. “Antonio, go put on a shirt. Junior—you left a sock on the stove. Frankie, will you wipe the chocolate off your forehead? That is chocolate, isn’t it?”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” I said when the new widow appeared at the door. “I know this is a bad time, but I’m Detective Rosetti and this is Detective Jones, and—”

  “I know who you are.” Peg Leg’s wife studied me. “Isn’t your old man Angelo Rosetti?”

  “He is,” I said, and waited for her reaction.

  She didn’t look surprised, just nodded. “Your father’s been over here a few times since he got out. Nice guy.”

  I was still reeling from the development that she knew my dad and still associated with him when she gestured for us to step inside. Antonio Colombo’s wife didn’t look like she’d been married to a man who went by the name of Peg Leg. She looked more like a 1950’s housewife, complete with the old, sauce-spattered apron over a thin house dress that flounced around her plump figure.

  She had a pretty face, adorned only by red lipstick and mascara, and she wore no jewelry except simple pearl studs and a matching necklace. And, of course, her wedding band.

  “You can call me Jodie,” she said. “My real name is much worse than that. Have a seat. Can I get y’all some tea?”

  Jodie opened her arms and gestured toward the seating arrangement in the front room. There was a threadbare sofa and two armchairs. Jimmy and I each took an armchair and left the sofa for Jodie.

  I held up my coffee. “No, thank you. We don’t want to put you out. Like I said, we know this is an awful time. We are so sorry for your loss.”

  Jodie nodded, wrung her hands around her apron. “Yes, it’s not...ideal. That’s for sure. Three little boys without their father. It just doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Murder is never fair.”

  “To be honest, I don’t know how we’ll manage moving forward.” Jodie stared off as if in a dream. “I barely graduated high school. No college degree. I married Tony a few months later. We waited a bit to have children, but I never worked outside of the home. He always wanted me to be a stay at home wife and mother, and I didn’t argue. It was what I wanted, too.”

  “I understand.”

  “I don’t know if you do,” she said, her eyes flicking toward me. “You’ve got a badge, probably a degree o
f some sort. You don’t need someone to take care of you. But me...” She gestured toward the staircase where one ruffled head of hair peeked out from behind the bannister.

  The child scurried away as conversation paused.

  “It’s not about me, actually. It’s about them,” she corrected. “As you might imagine, Tony didn’t have a whole lot in the way of life insurance. We never managed to save much more than he earned. I have no qualifications to get back into the work force, and even if I did, I don’t know how that would be on the kids. They’re going to need me now, more than ever.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, and meant it. I’d never considered what it would be like not to have a sense of independence. I was wired so far in the other direction that it was difficult for me to give up a sock drawer. “There are some places hiring without degrees. My mother’s coffee shop, I think she might be looking for part-time help. I’m not sure if you know her, but—”

  Jodie waved a hand. “It’s not your problem. I’m just rambling. Thinking aloud. Do you know, I’ve barely cried since I found out the news? I just shut down entirely.”

  “Everyone processes differently,” I said. “You are just being strong for your boys.”

  “I suppose,” she said softly. “They don’t think it’s real yet, either. There were some tears from the youngest, but the older two—they’ve mostly been playing video games all morning, locked in their rooms. Didn’t eat breakfast. I think they ran to the door half expecting to see their father.”

  I felt even worse. “That makes this all the harder, but we do have to ask you a few questions.”

  Jodie gave a sad smile. “I figured as much. The police did come to notify us. A few officers asked a couple of questions.”

  “We’re homicide detectives,” I said. “And we’re responsible for finding the person who killed your husband. But in order to do so, we need to know if Tony had any enemies.”

  “Tony?” She gave a fluttering smile. “Maybe. I don’t know; he didn’t talk about business at home.”

  “What is it he actually did?”

  “He was a mechanic,” she said airily, which told me that she believed it about as much as I did. “He had some passion projects on the side, but again, I wasn’t privy to the details.”

  “Passion projects,” Jimmy grunted under his breath. “Passion, alright.”

  I ignored him. “Do you know who he was working with on these passion projects?”

  “The old crew, I assumed,” she said with a shrug. “I know Tony kept in touch with your father. He worked with Mo and Stinky on occasion. Joe came by now and again—”

  “Joe Ricci?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. “The four of those guys used to run together a lot back in the day. Not as much these days, but I know they still keep in touch. There are others, too, but the others never come to the house. I never get names on them.”

  “How did you know there were others?”

  “Phone calls, late night meetings,” she shrugged. “Sometimes he’d go to the bar, and I’d get to talking with Mo’s wife. Turns out Mo would be sitting around the house with Stinky and your father, and so I knew he wasn’t with them.”

  “Was it possible he was...” I hesitated. “Having a relationship with someone else?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve wondered myself, but honestly, I don’t think so. Tony, God rest his soul, had his flaws, but he was a family man. He loved his boys more than anything, and he wouldn’t have jeopardized that.”

  I nodded. “Any idea what sorts of things these guys were into?”

  “I told you, I didn’t hear the business talk at home,” she said, her eyes meeting mine with a knowing stare. “Your father ran in the same crowd as my husband, detective. I know you understand.”

  I glanced down at my hands. “Sure.”

  Jimmy sensed my discomfort and took over. “Let’s get back to the enemies. We talked about friends, but was Tony complaining about anyone? Personally, professionally? Was there anyone calling the house, that sort of thing?”

  Jodie bit her lip. “A few days before he died, he did start to get a little nervous. Maybe anxious is a better word. He was getting up early and staying up late, in and out of the house. When he was home, he was buzzing. He was distracted talking to the boys. I’d ask him to get me something from the kitchen, and he’d forget what I needed by the time he stood up.”

  “I think that’s just all men, ma’am. Yesterday, I forgot the Snickers...” Jimmy glanced at me, then shut up. “Do you have any clue what caused his anxiety?”

  “No. I figured it would blow over. Maybe he was busy at work—whatever that meant. Maybe they had a project that wasn’t going right.”

  “Did he owe anyone money?”

  She frowned. “I don’t have a tight hold on our finances, I’m afraid to admit. Tony was pretty strict about that. He’d be upstairs balancing the checkbook four times a month. I told him, ‘Don’t you know they do all that stuff online these days?’ But he insisted on doing it by hand.”

  “Do you have the ledgers he used?” I asked. “Would you mind if we took a look?”

  “Not at all. I’ll see if I can find it.” She stood, then turned back. “Though I should probably ask for it back. Not that I know what to do with it, but I suppose I should figure out how to use it now that he’s gone.”

  Jodie disappeared upstairs.

  “Poor woman,” I said. “Do you see why I’m terrified of relationships?”

  “No,” Jimmy deadpanned. “Neither Russo nor Gem would expect you to give up your job.”

  “You don’t know that,” I shot back, but it did leave me wondering. What would life look like with Russo if we actually decided to give a relationship the old college try? Could we make it work, or would one of us have to sacrifice everything for the other?

  Jodie returned and handed over a series of worn, leather-bound books. They were overstuffed with yellowed loose-leaf pages and thin, scratchy handwriting.

  “Use them as long as you need,” she said. “But eventually, I wouldn’t mind having them back.”

  “Of course,” I said. “We’ll be careful with them.”

  “Let me know if you find anything interesting.” Jodie gave a wan smile. “Maybe he stashed away some money for the kids somewhere. Some forgotten college fund. Lord knows we could use it.”

  “We’ll do what we can,” I said. “We have a very good team. If we find anything, we’ll let you know.”

  She nodded. “I’m not sure what else there is to tell you. Was my husband perfect? No. But he was a decent man and a wonderful father. He made mistakes and hung with a crowd that...” She raised a hand, tipped it from one side to the other in an iffy way. “But they were friends. I don’t think any of his friends would have done this to him.”

  “Do you have any thoughts as to who might have?” I asked.

  “No names,” she said. “But I have to wonder if he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or if he got caught up in the middle of something without knowing it. My husband wasn’t a leader, wasn’t a high chain-of-command sort of guy. They don’t put out hits on men like Tony.”

  “They?” Jimmy asked.

  Jodie looked at me. “You know who I mean.”

  “I’m afraid I do,” I said with a sigh. “Thank you so much for your time. If you think of anything else, please give me a call.”

  I handed over my card to Jodie. When she reached out to take it, I pressed my other hand on top of hers in sympathy. She gave me a weak smile, then nodded.

  “Give my best to your father,” she murmured. “I’m afraid we won’t be seeing him around as much, which is a shame. I always said he was one of the good ones.”

  I couldn’t think of a response, so I just nodded and backed away. One of the boys appeared and opened the front door. As we left, he stared at us, his lips parted in surprise.

  “Thank you,” I said to him.

  He slammed the door behind us.

 
“Poor kids,” I said. “They didn’t deserve any of this.”

  Jimmy leaned over, nudged me with his elbow. “Neither did you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your dad went away. Disappeared from your life. Not so different than what’s happening to Tony’s kids.”

  “We’re not sure Tony did anything wrong,” I said. “He could’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time. My father was found guilty in court.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s a bad person. It doesn’t mean he hasn’t changed,” Jimmy said. “Food for thought.”

  “Here’s some more food for thought,” I said. “The last time we had a hit like this, my dad’s name and Ricci’s turned up together in the file. How about we pay a visit to old Cox and get his take on things?”

  I didn’t leave the conversation open for discussion. I slid into my car, programmed the GPS, and was halfway to the retired detective’s house when my phone rang with a call from my father.

  “I SEE YOU’VE DECIDED to stay on the case,” my father said into the phone. “Did you have a nice visit with Jodie?”

  I tucked a wayward piece of hair behind my ear in annoyance. “She must have called you the second I stepped out the door.”

  “Friends have a way of watching out for one another. She wondered when you and I had reconciled.”

  “I didn’t realize you were so close with Jodie.”

  “I’m not, but I knew Tony. We all did.”

  “Do you hang with Joe Ricci?”

  “I know him.”

  “It sounds like he runs in circles with Mo and Stinky. Just like you. Weird how that works, isn’t it?” I hesitated. Then, “Can you get us something on Joe?”

  “I don’t think you need to look at Joe all that hard. He wouldn’t have offed Peg Leg.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Gut feeling.”

  “Were they that good of friends?”

  “They were okay. I just think Joe was smarter than that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Tony was harmless. I don’t know why he was killed, and that’s the truth.”

 

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