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Lethal Lawman
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.
Stepping 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.
By the time she had her bedroom back in order, she returned to the kitchen to find the place clean and Frank seated at her small table.
“Thank you,” she said as she looked around the room and then sat at the chair across from him, her internal defenses automatically kicking in.
“Are you sure there’s nobody else I need to look at for this?” Frank asked.
“Not that I can think of off the top of my head,” she replied. There was no point in bringing Matt into this, especially when they already had a viable suspect to investigate.
“Then I’ll check out Michael Arello and get back to you. If we find out he’s responsible for this, I’m assuming you want to press charges.”
Marlene frowned. Did she really want to go there? “Can’t you just give him a stern talking-to?”
Frank raised a dark eyebrow. “Really? Is that the way you want to handle this? He’s stolen twice that we know of and now this. Maybe it’s time for more than a stern talking-to.”
Marlene shook her head. “Maybe so, but it isn’t coming from me. If Michael is the one who broke in here, then he’ll figure we’re even. I fired him and he messed up my house. I don’t want to press charges. I just want to forget the whole thing.”
Since he was a man of the law, she knew it was difficult for him to understand why she wouldn’t want to press charges, but she just wanted it all to go away as simply and quickly as possible.
“Marlene Marie!” The familiar voice came from outside and was followed by the stomping of feet that belonged to Marlene’s older sister, Roxy.
There was no knock on the door, but it flew open, and Roxy stood there, her dark eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay?” she asked Marlene.
“I’m fine. Everything is fine, so you can get that fire out of your eyes,” Marlene exclaimed.
Roxy released a sigh of relief, raked a hand through her riotous curls and then smiled at Frank. “Jimmy told Steve and Steve told me that there had been a break-in here and I freaked out.”
“Does Steve know you’re out running the streets alone?” Marlene asked. As much as she adored her older sister, there were times when Roxy drove her crazy with her need to mother both Marlene and Sheri.
Roxy didn’t answer and instead focused her attention on Frank. “So, what have we got here?”
“We have nothing. It’s all taken care of,” Marlene said firmly.
“We think maybe Michael Arello did a little payback today,” Frank said.
“Payback for what?” Roxy asked.
“I fired him from the store last night for stealing,” Marlene explained.
“That little creep. He needs a good butt-kicking and I know just the man to do it,” Roxy said. “I’ll make sure Steve tells Michael what for.”
“Roxy, boundaries,” Marlene replied. “Frank has this. It will all be taken care of.” She just wanted both of them gone now. It was getting late, she was exhausted and she wanted to make arrangements for Larry Samson to come first thing in the morning and replace the door with solid locks.
She’d be fine for the night with the dead bolt locked. This entire evening just felt ugly, and she’d had enough ugliness in her life to last throughout eternity.
She stood in hopes that it would be an indication that she was done for the night. She pulled her much-shorter dark-haired sister into a quick embrace. “Don’t worry. I’m fine. It’s all under control.”
Roxy gave her a tight hug in response and then stepped back. “Okay, I know Frank will take good care of you. Call me if you need anything.”
“You know I will,” Marlene assured her, although they both knew Marlene probably wouldn’t.
As Roxy said goodbye and clomped back down the stairs, Marlene turned and looked at Frank pointedly. “I guess that’s my cue.” He got up from the table and walked toward the door. Marlene remained in place, not wanting to get close enough to smell the pleasant spicy-scented cologne she’d noticed emanating from him earlier.
“I’ll probably check in with you sometime tomorrow,” he said.
“I’ll be here until about noon or so, and then after that I’ll be at the shop.”
“Then I’ll talk to you at one place or the other,” Frank said, and with another surprising smile that shot an unexpected burst of warmth through her, he left.
She locked the door behind him and leaned against it. She closed her eyes and tried to will away thoughts of Detective Frank Delaney.
From the moment her aunt Liz had gone missing and the case had been assigned to Detectives Steven Kincaid, Frank Delaney and Jimmy Carmani, Frank had been under her skin.
His low, deep voice shot a secret thrill through her, a gaze of his eyes made her feel as if he were attempting to breach the defenses she’d erected so high.
There was no way she intended to let him in. There was no way she intended to even let her sisters in completely. She’d come back to Wolf Creek as damaged goods and nobody would ever get close to her again.
* * *
It took Frank exactly ten minutes to find Michael Arello after leaving Marlene’s apartment. The kid was an easy find. He was with a bunch of his buddies playing pool in the back area of the Wolf’s Head Tavern.
Frank didn’t miss that twice Michael had targeted the Marcoli family. The fact that both times he’d been caught stealing food was definitely odd.
And Frank didn’t like odd, especially when there was a woman who’d been missing for over a month and Michael had been caught stealing food for more than one person twice now. Although why a twenty-two-year-old would kidnap a sixty-five-year-old woman and keep her hostage for this length of time was beyond imagining.
Frank motioned to Michael with a simple nod of his head. The tall, dark-haired man walked toward him slowly, with eyes that darted everywhere but at Frank.
“Yeah?”
“How about, ‘Can I help you, Detective Delaney?’ Now, let’s try it again.” Frank kept his voice low and with more than a hint of steel.
“Can I help you, Detective Delaney?” Michael asked with just enough attitude to irritate Frank but not enough to call any more attention to it.
“As a matter of fact, you can. You can tell me what you’ve done today from the moment you woke up this morning to this very minute.”
“Is this some kind of a joke?” Michael asked. As Frank merely stared at him expectantly, Michael cast his gaze to the left and expelled a deep sigh. “I got out of bed around ten and then spent most of the day looking for a job. I finally ended up here a couple of hours ago to have a few beers and enjoy some pool time with my buds.”
“I’d think it would be easier to get a job if you hadn’t stolen from the previous two jobs you’ve had. You got a problem with the Marcoli sisters?”
Michael’s gaze met his briefly and then again slid to the side. “Not particularly.”
“What about Marlene? You got a problem with her or did you get it all out of your system when you were trashing her apartment?”
Michael took a step backward, his body tense, and Frank knew instinctively that the kid was responsible for the mess at Marlene’s.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael mumbled.
“I think you do, and you’d better hope that we don’t pull any of your prints off the broken dishes we gathered as evidence. My advice to you would be to stay as far away from the Marcoli family as possible.”
“I’ll take that advice. Are we done here?” Michael asked.
“For now,” Frank replied. He watched as the young man ambled back to his friends. Even though instinct wasn’t evidence, Frank would bet his badge that the person who had been inside Marlene’s apartment earlier had just walked away from him.
Minutes later as Frank got into his car to head home he made a mental note to himself to check further into Michael Arello’s life. He wanted to know why the kid was stealing food when Frank knew his parents were doing fine and he was certain there was always enough to eat in the household.
He glanced at his watch, surprised to discover that it was nearly eleven. It was too late to talk to the Arellos tonight, but first thing in the morning he intended to speak to Michael’s parents and see if they knew what was up with their son.
Right now it was time for him to head home. It was time to take a shower and get the scent of Marlene Marcoli out of his head, time to go to bed and probably suffer the nightmares that had plagued him since his wife’s death three years ago.
As he drove toward the small ranch house he’d bought five years before, he thought about everything that had happened over the past month.
Many lives had changed the day that Liz Marcoli had gone missing from her house. There had been no signs of foul play, but the three nieces she had raised as her own children had known something was dreadfully wrong.
As the days passed with no word from Liz, it became equally apparent to Frank and his two partners that something wasn’t right, as well. It just wasn’t normal for a sixty-five-year-old woman to walk away from her life and her loved ones without a word, and with her car in the driveway and her purse containing her wallet with all her identification and credit and bank cards left in the house.
To date her finances hadn’t been tapped and there had been absolutely no leads. It was as if she’d just gone “poof” and disappeared into the air.
Not only had Liz gone missing, but during the past four weeks Roxy, the eldest of the three Marcoli sisters, had her life threatened by, of all people, Stacy, the ex-girlfriend of Frank’s partner Steve. That particular threat had been removed when Frank had been forced to shoot Stacy to save Roxy’s life. Steve and Roxy were now a couple and Steve had been reunited with his seven-year-old son, who had been kidnapped by Stacy and had been missing for two years.
So far that was the only positive that had come out of this case. Liz was still missing and they’d only recently uncovered the cold case of another woman, Agnes Wilson, who was around the same age as Liz and had simply vanished from her home two years before.
Remembering that cold case had done two things...it had galvanized the detectives to compare the two cases and hope that they found some similarities that might lead them to Liz Marcoli, and it had discouraged them in reminding them of their failure to find out what had happened to Agnes.
Frank pulled into his driveway and from the shine of the nearby streetlamp noted that the lawn needed tending, the shutters at the windows needed painting and there was a general air of neglect about the place.
The soul weariness that always assaulted him when he arrived here hit as he got out of his car and walked to the front door. He’d get to the yard work in the next couple of days, not for himself, but rather out of respect for his neighbors.
He opened the front door to the absence of sound, the absence of scent. There hadn’t been a sense of homecoming here for a very long time.
This was just a shelter, nothing more, a place to shower and occasionally grab a meal, but home had died with Grace. They’d had only one year together as husband and wife, but Frank would spend eternity with the weight of the guilt of her death on his shoulders.
He took off his jacket and flung it over the top of a living-room chair, then removed his holster and gun and emptied his pockets on the coffee table in front of the sofa. The brown-and-beige sofa was a sleeper, but he never made the effort to pull it out. It was covered with a white sheet and a bed pillow.
For the past three years the living room had been Frank’s bedroom. He’d been unable to force himself to return to the room that he’d once shared with Grace.
If he were smart, he’d sell the house, find another place to start over and call home, but so far he hadn’t been motivated to do the work to get the place market-ready.
From the living room he headed to the bathroom, where he started the shower, stepped out of his shoes, and then stripped off his slacks and shirt, his white briefs and socks, and threw them all into a waiting laundry basket.
As he stepped beneath the hot spray, he tried to keep thoughts of Marlene out of his head, but no matter how hard he tried she intruded. There was no question that he was drawn to her physical beauty, but he suspected he was also attracted to the very characteristics that put other people off. Her coolness, her tight control over her emotions, or perhaps it was a lack of any real emotions that he found oddly appealing.
Living with Grace had been filled with drama and emotion and passion. It had been invigorating, exciting and utterly exhausting.
If he ever decided to have any kind of a relationship with a woman again, he’d pick somebody like Marlene...cool, calm and an unlikely candidate to want anything deep or meaningful.
As he dried off he thought of that moment when he’d looked into her eyes and saw the hint of secrets, of something dark and haunting. Had he only imagined it? After all, she’d just had a break-in into her private quarters. Maybe he’d mistaken fear for something more mysterious.
In any case, he knew exactly what Marlene Marcoli wanted from him and it had nothing to do with any kind of a personal relationship. She and her sisters wanted their beloved aunt Liz found alive and well.
But with over a month of no contact and few clues to follow, Frank wasn’t feeling particularly optimistic about the case.
They had one man in their sights who was a potential person of interest. Edward Cardell had been secretly dating Liz, and on the morning of her disappearance he had gone to a mountain cabin to spend a couple of days. The detectives had had dogs brought in to see if they could pick up any of Liz’s scent at the cabin, but they hadn’t.