Lethal Lawman. Carla Cassidy
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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