Buch lesen: «Lethal Lawman»

Chapter 1

She clung to the banister near the bottom of the staircase.

Blood. There was so much blood. Pain stole her ability to think as it racked her body. No, her brain screamed. This couldn’t be happening. Her grasp grew slippery on the rail of wood that kept her from falling completely to the floor.

Blood. There was too much blood. She tried desperately to hold back her scream of pain but it escaped from her, first a low moan and then a scream loud enough to wake the dead.

* * *

Marlene Marcoli shot up, her heart thundering frantically as she came out of the dream...the all-too-familiar nightmare. Sunshine streamed through the window in her small bedroom and a glance at the clock let her know it was just after eight.

After eight! She was halfway out of bed before she remembered it was no longer her job to get up in the early-morning hours, drive to her aunt Liz’s empty house, and use her kitchen to bake cakes and pies, cinnamon rolls and whatever else her sister Roxy might need for the day in her popular restaurant.

She fell back against her pillow and stared up at the ceiling, hoping for another couple of hours of sleep before she had to work the late afternoon and evening hours at the Roadside Stop, a business that she owned and managed with her younger sister, Sheri.

While she liked owning a business, her true love was baking. Realizing that any more sleep would probably not be forthcoming, she got out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a shower to slough off any lingering sleepiness.

As she stood beneath the hot spray, she decided to use the extra hours this morning to make a couple of batches of brownies. She could take some into the Roadside Stop later and take a platter to Minnie Anderson, her landlord, who owned the Treasure Trove, an antiques store below Marlene’s small walk-up apartment.

With her morning planned, she dressed in a pair of worn jeans, pulled on an old, faded red T-shirt and pulled her long, blond hair into a messy ponytail.

A few minutes later with coffee brewing and filling the tiny kitchen with its fragrance, she gathered the ingredients she’d need to make her own special double-chocolate brownies.

One of her very first memories was of standing on a step stool next to her aunt Liz and watching while the older woman baked a pie. Aunt Liz loved to bake, and that love had been passed on to Marlene.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and moved to the window where the bright May sun shimmered over Main Street in Wolf Creek, Pennsylvania.

A chill danced up her spine despite the view of the sun as she thought of her aunt Liz, who had been missing for the past five weeks. She’d simply disappeared from her kitchen on a Friday morning with her car in the driveway and her purse on the counter. Nobody had seen or heard from her since.

It was an open investigation that the three detectives who worked for the Wolf Creek Police Department were actively pursuing. A small smile curved her lips. Apparently Detective Steve Kincaid had not only been pursuing information in Aunt Liz’s case but had also been pursuing Marlene’s older sister, Roxy.

He’d chased until he’d finally caught her, and the two of them, along with Steve’s seven-year-old son, Tommy, were slowly beginning to build a life together.

Marlene shoved away all thoughts of her sisters, her missing aunt and the lingering jitters from the recurrent nightmare as she got busy doing what she loved best—baking.

By noon she had finished the brownies and changed from her jeans and T-shirt into a pair of black slacks and a short-sleeved blue-and-black-patterned blouse. Her makeup was perfect and her blond hair fell just below her shoulders in soft waves. She eyed her reflection in the mirror and mentally pronounced herself ready to leave her little sanctuary and go out in public.

Although there was a door to a staircase that would lead directly into the shop downstairs, that door was kept locked and never used. Instead Marlene always used the outside wooden stairs to come and go from her second-floor apartment.

As she left for the day, she carried with her a large plastic container of brownies to take into the store and a smaller platter to give to her landlord.

She stored the large container in her car and then walked around to the front of Minnie’s shop with the plate of brownies in hand.

A bell tinkled melodically as she opened the door to a mishmash of merchandise and the happy greeting of the stoop-shouldered white-haired woman who owned the store. She stood behind a counter that sported an old-fashioned cash register and an array of costume jewelry that often caught Marlene’s attention.

As Marlene placed the platter of chocolate goodies next to the register, Minnie clapped her wrinkled hands over her chest and smiled. “I smelled these this morning when you were baking them and I was hoping you wouldn’t forget a little nibble for me,” Minnie said.

“How could I ever forget one of my favorite people?” Marlene replied.

Minnie laughed. “You just say that so I won’t raise your rent.” She reached beneath the plastic wrap and grabbed one of the brownies. She took a bite and rolled her eyes with pleasure. “Of course I can’t raise your rent as long as you’re bringing magic to my mouth.”

Marlene smiled. “Don’t you know this is my idea of rent control?”

Minnie laughed again, this time her false teeth displaying a thin layer of chocolate. “Go on, get out with you. I know you’re on your way to work.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Minnie,” Marlene replied and then headed back out the door.

Marlene got into her car and drove down the three blocks of Main Street. The business she and her sister owned was about ten miles out of the small town of Wolf Creek, Pennsylvania, along a stretch of highway near a relatively small Amish settlement.

Most of what Marlene and Sheri sold in their store came from the Amish. Beautiful handcrafted furniture, apple and peach butter, corn relish and pickles, along with the cheeses and breads, were only a sampling of what the Roadside Stop sold.

The shop had always been her sister Sheri’s dream, while Marlene had wanted to eventually open her own bakery. But a bad marriage and divorce and two years away from home had limited Marlene’s options when she’d returned a year ago. She’d been grateful when Sheri had offered her a piece of the shop so she could at least make a living.

The dream of owning and operating a bakery on Main Street had died along with her marriage and any thoughts of happily ever after. She unclenched her hands from the steering wheel, trying to fight against the anxiety, the sense of panic that always stirred at thoughts of her marriage.

“It’s all in the past,” she said aloud as she pulled into one of the parking spaces behind the Roadside Stop building. The lot in front was filled with cars, a positive sign for business.

Marlene wasn’t particularly good with people, not like Sheri, who despite her youth had a maternal aura about her. Marlene much preferred to work in the back storage room than deal with the customers, but today it didn’t look as though she’d have a choice. The shop was surprisingly busy.

Sheri cast her a grateful smile as she walked in. “I am so glad to see you,” she said as Marlene set the container of brownies on the counter and opened the lid so that customers could help themselves. “We’ve been swamped all day and Abe called in sick, so it’s just been me and Jennifer holding down the fort.”

The shop was large with a special area on the end specifically for the furniture they sold. Besides the Amish goods, there was also a section devoted to Wolf Creek souvenirs and another for travelers’ needs.

“Want me to work the register?” Marlene asked hopefully, knowing that Jennifer and Sheri were far better working with the customers on the floor.

“That will be perfect,” Sheri agreed easily. She stepped out from behind the counter and Marlene took her place. She was most comfortable here, with the wide counter between her and anyone else.

As she watched Sheri flit from customer to customer, drawing warm smiles as she interacted with everyone, Marlene marveled at how different she and her sisters were from one another. While they all had the same mother, who had dumped them at their aunt Liz’s for her to raise them, none of them knew their fathers.

Marlene’s older sister, Roxy, was a dark-haired firecracker who ran a successful restaurant and took no guff from anyone. Sheri was like a petite, brown-haired, amber-eyed earth mother, stirred to rage only if anyone threatened the herd of animals that populated the woods around her cottage.

And Marlene knew that most people whispered behind her own back that she was the ice princess...perceived as cool, not particularly friendly and slightly arrogant.

Nothing could be further from the truth, but people’s perceptions worked to her advantage, especially since she’d come back here after her broken marriage. She didn’t want to get close to anyone. She had her sisters and she hoped Aunt Liz would eventually be found, and they were more than enough for Marlene at this particular time in her life.

The afternoon flew by as business stayed brisk. It was just after four when the store had a lull with no customers in the place.

“Have you heard from Michael today?” Marlene asked as Sheri leaned a slender hip against the counter and grabbed one of Marlene’s brownies.

“I wouldn’t expect to see him today since you fired him last night,” Sheri replied. She shook her head ruefully. “I was a fool to give him a second chance.”

Marlene shook her head as she thought of the twenty-two-year-old who’d only been hired three days before. Michael Arello had worked a couple of days in Roxy’s restaurant, the Dollhouse, and had been fired for stealing food.

“I couldn’t believe it when I saw him sneaking out the back door with a box full of goodies.” Marlene grabbed one of the last of her brownies and frowned thoughtfully. “I wonder if his family is having money problems or something? He got fired for stealing food from Roxy’s place and the box he was trying to get out to his car last night was filled with bread and cheese and a couple of jars of apple butter and pickles.”

“As far as I know, the Arello family is doing just fine,” Sheri replied. “Mr. Arello still works at the bank and Mrs. Arello works at the grocery store.”

“Maybe Michael is just a kleptomaniac,” Marlene said as she popped the last of the brownie in her mouth. “Maybe if he was working at Vick’s garage he’d be putting hubcaps in his pockets.”

Sheri laughed and glanced at her watch. “I think I’m going to head on home. Will you be okay here until close? Jennifer is supposed to get off at seven. If you want to shut the place down then, that’s fine with me. Business is usually fairly nonexistent between seven and nine on a Tuesday night anyway.”

Normally the store was open six days a week until nine, but it was still a bit too early in the year for the heavy summer traffic and tourist season. “Maybe I’ll do that. Without Abe here I really don’t like closing up all alone, especially once it gets dark.”

Sheri nodded. “That’s why I suggested it. I don’t like to be open at night with just myself here, either.” Sheri grabbed her oversize brown purse from beneath the counter. “I’m off to my enchanted cottage and I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

Marlene smiled as Sheri left. Her sister’s house in the woods did look like an enchanted cottage, but that was where the fairy tale ended.

Marlene didn’t believe in fairy tales anymore. She knew firsthand that handsome princes weren’t always what they advertised.

At seven, as Jennifer grabbed her purse, Marlene decided to go ahead and close up shop. She really wasn’t comfortable working alone. They’d been lucky in that they’d never been robbed since opening, but Marlene had only worked the store alone once one evening and had been uncomfortable the whole time.

Minutes later she was in her car and headed back to the tiny apartment she called home. When she’d returned from Pittsburgh broke and broken, she’d jumped at the chance to rent the small furnished apartment above the Treasure Trove.

Although the furnishings were Minnie style: a used sofa in a puke-green color and a matching chair, all of them sporting crocheted lacy doilies on the armrests. The kitchen area was along one wall―a stove-top oven, a sink and a fridge that was also green.

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.