Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery (14 page)

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Authors: Elaine Flinn

BOOK: Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery
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Over the wails of the sirens from the sheriffs units pulling into the drive, Lucero said, “Jesus, Molly! You can’t! Didn’t you hear what Randall said? This is a crime scene now, and you were right there.”
“I have to find them! I don’t dare let them walk out here and see...the body. Besides, Michelle might worry about her mother.” Molly began to turn away when two sheriffs deputies stormed in. Lucero mumbled, “Oh, shit. Not Reynolds? Randall is gonna love this.”
“Is this the guy that gave him such a bad time last year when—”
“Yeah. The very same. Better figure he’s going to want to talk to you.”
“Me? Why?”
Lucero looked at Molly. “Come on, Molly. You were right there. Everyone saw it.”
“But so were other people! You were there, and so was Randall.” She held out her hands. “Want to check me for powder? Hidden pockets where I stashed my gun?”
“Calm down. He’ll eventually hear about the rumors, so don’t lose your cool. The guy’s a prick. Don’t antagonize him.”
Molly turned away. “Well, then keep him busy while I’m gone. I’ll sneak back in.”
She found Emma and Michelle in the den. Michelle hit the remote to freeze the film. “Is it time for the buffet?” she asked. “The movie is almost over, can we...” She saw the serious look on Molly’s face. “Oh, oh. What’s wrong now? Did old Todd shoot off his mouth again?”
Mlolly winced when Michelle said “shoot.” “Uh, no. But there’s been an accident. What I mean, is...well, Todd has been shot.” Both girls sat upright on the sofa, their eyes widening.
Emma grabbed Michelle’s hand, and said, “Oh, no! Oh, this is awful.”
“I want both of you to stay here until I come and get you. Lock this door. Don’t let anyone in here. The sheriff’s people have just arrived and...well, just stay put. Your mother is fine, Michelle, so don’t worry about her.”
“We’ll stay here,” Emma said. “Is he...I mean, did he die?”
“Yes,” Molly said. “Almost immediately.”
Michelle’s eyelids flickered, and her voice was shaking. “Who did it?”
Molly shook her head. “I’ve no idea. It happened so quick, I’m not sure about anything.” Just that I’m in the thick of things again, she thought.
Chapter 13
 
“I’LL TAKE OVER NOW, Mr. Randall,” Lieutenant Reynolds said. He jerked his head dismissively. “You and Lucero join the crowd. I’ll get to you both later.” To the large throng of guests, he announced, “No chit-chat, people. Understood? I won’t keep you longer than necessary, but I have to insist on your cooperation. I can’t have a low roar going on while my people are doing their job.”
Randall didn’t move. “I issued a closed cell phone order, and—”
“I said, I’d take over now.” Reynolds said.
Randall shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled. “Am I supposed to salute you now, too?” He winked at Lucero and said, “Come on, I’ll buy you a beer.”
Lucero was grinding his teeth. It was a bad habit he had when he wanted to punch someone out. He’d developed it as a young man growing up on Cannery Row. You had to be tough to work the fishing boats, and tempers were often short after eighteen hours without sleep. Only his dreams of pitching for the San Francisco Giants and caring for his hands kept him out of most brawls. Randall, on the other hand, had played football and was happy to brawl. His parting shot to Reynolds seemed to offer an invitation. Lucero knew the bad blood between the two men wasn’t going to spill out here. Randall would save it for later. Reynolds’s curt dismissal hadn’t been lost on the guests or on Domenico Mattucci. A pin, as is said, could have been heard dropping. The blatant lack of professional courtesy was also obviously noted by two other guests, both reporters from the local newspapers. Lucero could only imagine what they planned to do with that bit of news.
Lucero moved closer to Randall. His voice was low. “Screw him. So, what’s your take on this?”
Randall looked up beyond the roof to the towering pine trees on both sides of the house. “An unusually gifted marksman who knows how to climb a tree. And cautious enough to use a silencer.”
Lucero followed Randall’s gaze. “You’re kidding me. Not on the roof?”
“I’d bet on the trees. When they do the triangulation, they’re going to be all over those Monterey pines for trace evidence.”
“That’s one hell of a shooter. Pro? Can’t be a local hunter. No one around here is that good, and I know a lot of them.”
“Then Reynolds has his hands full.” Randall looked at Lucero, then grinned. “Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”
They joined the nervous guests corralled at the far end of the terrace. Randall said to Lucero in a low voice, “These people are going to start getting antsy and pulling rank pretty soon if Reynolds decides to drag this out.”
Nodding to some of the guests he knew, Lucero whispered back, “Yeah? Who they gonna call? I’m about as high rank as they can find, and I’m sitting here with you like some bum off the street.”
“Maybe you should do some quiet schmoozing and remind everyone to be patient until after the crime scene techs and the M.E. are gone. I’d do it, but I don’t want Reynolds to think I’m butting in. I don’t need grief with that prick.”
Lucero laughed. “What is this? The indomitable Randall backing off?”
“I choose my battlegrounds, pal. And I’ve got a feeling I’ll be needing one soon enough, but this ain’t it.”
Lucero saw Molly heading their way. “Better set one up for Molly, too. We know he’s going to zero in on her.”
When Molly joined them at a table they had managed to commandeer, Lucero left to make his rounds. “Where the hell have you been?” Randall said. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put?”
“I had to find Emma and Michelle and tell them to stay in the den.”
“Damn, but you’ve got a hard head.”
“Don’t start. I’m already a wreck. What’s going on now?”
Randall put his finger to his lips. “Reynolds has decreed there be no loud talking, so keep your voice down and be ready for the third degree from him.”
“No talking? He can’t tell us not to talk, for God’s sake!”
“Molly, please, okay? Just humor him. He’s an ass. We all know that. But this is his show so don’t color outside the lines.” He reached for the sweater she had tied around her shoulders and pulled it around her. “You’re shivering. You okay?”
“No, I’m not. If I...if I hadn’t moved away—” Her breath caught. “Could that bullet have been meant for me?”
“That’s crazy. Who the hell would want to kill you?”
“What about my pickup? The postcards?”
“What postcards? What the hell is going on now? You back to keeping things from me? I thought we worked that out.”
Molly clutched the ends of her sweater sleeves, rolling the cuffs between her fingers, searching for some tiny bit of comfort. “I’ve been getting some strange postcards. Addressed to me, but no message, no signature, nothing. One from London, and one from Rome.”
“When did this start?”
“A week ago. But at first I thought it might be a client, maybe in a hurry. When the second one arrived, it made me leery. And then I wondered if maybe they’re from my sister Carrie telling me she’s okay.”
“Or maybe your errant hubby taunting you? Hell, I’ll bet he saw your face plastered all over CNN last year.”
Molly began to tremble as the body of Todd Jessop was wheeled past her. Her eyes fixed on the black body bag. When it was gone, she stared at the crime-scene area taped off with small pylons and markers. The chalked outline of Todd Jessop’s body brought on another shudder. “Molly, look at me, not that stuff,” Randall said gently. “The techs and M.E. are leaving. So, do you think the cards came from Porter?”
“It’s not Derek. The last thing he’d do is give me a clue where he is. He knows I’d be on the phone with the New York police.”
Randall was about to reply when Reynolds arrived at their table. “I thought I’d ordered no chit-chat. Button it up here.”
Randall rose. He said nothing, but the look in his eyes said volumes.
Reynolds stepped back. He hooked his thumbs into his belt and said, “I expect you, of all people, to cooperate.”
Randall smiled then. “I don’t know what handbook you’re working from, but you’re out of line asking for complete silence. So, do me a favor. Buzz off and get your people working on statements. You have no right to keep these people longer than necessary.”
Reynolds nodded to the two officers coming his way. “I’ll be with the victim’s family. Leave the D.A., and the chief and his girlfriend for me.” To Molly and Randall, he said, “Stay put. I don’t want to have to go looking for either of you.”
Randall returned to his chair, but his eyes remained on Reynolds. He wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of correcting his relationship with Molly. He knew it was a barb designed to rattle Molly.
When Lucero rejoined them, Randall said, “Let the games begin. Reynolds is going to keep us waiting until every single statement has been taken.” He looked at his watch. “I figure that will be a good two hours. Maybe you should pull rank so you can give yours and hit the road.”
Lucero laughed. “What? And miss all the fun when he digs into you and Molly? No way. I’m here for my friends and for the record.”
While they waited, Domenico Mattucci wheeled himself to their table. “This is a sad day, my friends, but there’s no reason why you can’t enjoy the buffet while you wait for that jackass to finish strutting around. So, please, help yourselves. Dando has outdone himself today. I’d hate to see all his work go to waste. I’ve told the other guests to do the same once they’re through with the cops. It’s not disrespectful, and we won’t be fellowing Jessop to hell for filling our stomachs.” To Molly, he said, “Emma and Michelle are fine. Don’t worry about them. Dando has taken them back to the ranch. I hope that was okay. I’d like to ask that you let Emma stay with Michelle for a day or two. We’ll take good care of them. Carla will be, well, busy and knowing Emma is with Michelle will be a relief to her.”
Molly didn’t know what to make of Domenico Mattucci. Either he was a genuine pragmatist, or he knew he hadn’t long to live and no longer cared what people thought of him.
But she sensed he was innately kind and that he loved his family. “Of course,” Molly said. “If I can help in any way, please let me know.”
After a few more minutes, when guests began to trickle towards the buffet, Lucero found an empty drinks tray and filled it with three plates of food with wineglasses wedged between. “Domenico is right. No sense in letting all this food go to waste,” he said as he set the tray on the table. “Come on,
mangia.
”
Randall pointed his fork at a fat sausage on Molly’s dish. “Try that sausage. You’ll never find this at the market. Well, maybe one or two down in Gonzales or Greenfield, but not at a big-box.”
Molly’s appetite was less than zero. “A sausage is a sausage.”
“Randall’s right,” Lucero said. “These are something else.”
“How can you get excited over a sausage? Sometimes I wonder about you two. A man was shot and killed in front of us, and you act as if you’re at a picnic.”
“Occupational hazard,” Randall said. “Give us a break, okay? We’re trying to get you to calm down. Trivia is a big help.”
“Sorry,” Molly said. “Okay, tell me all about this special wiener.”
“You’re impossible,” Lucero said. “I don’t know why we put up with you sometimes. These babies are made only by Swiss-Italians in the Salinas Valley. Secret recipes handed down from the old country.” He took a big bite, chewed it slowly, and then beamed. “There’s only a few guys left that make these anymore. They’re so paranoid, they cover the windows while they put the stuff together. Dando’s one of them, even though he’s not Italian.”
“Maybe he knocked an old-timer off for the recipe,” Randall said, and laughed. “I hear he’s some character.”
Lucero grinned. “Don’t say that too loud around here. Men shake in their boots when his name is mentioned.”
“Come on!” Molly said. “Daria told me he’s shy and can’t speak. Something wrong with his tongue. If Mr. Mattucci trusts him, so do I.”
“Yeah?” Lucero said. “Story is, he got some of it cut off in prison in Spain when he was a kid. His father and big brother were ETA suspects, and they threw the whole family in jail.”
Molly took a bite. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, this is good. What’s ETA?”
“Basque separatists,” Randall said. “In some camps they’re called terrorists, and in others, patriots.”
“If you lose, you’re a terrorist. If you win, you’re elevated to a patriot. Same old story throughout history,” Lucero said.
“I thought we were going to lighten up,” Molly said as she cut into another sausage.
Randall checked his watch again. “I’d venture to say we’ve got another hour and a half before Sherlock shows up. Grab another bottle of wine, Lucero.”
“I can’t. I’m the D.A. I’m a big shot. I can’t be seen waiting on you.” He rose and headed for the banquet table, but before he could return, he was stopped by three angry guests. Molly and Randall watched hands slicing the air, chins jutting out, and flicking wrists as watches were examined. Reggie and Dino joined the exchange for a moment, then headed for Randall.

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