Perfect Crime (21 page)

Not looking at him, Tessa grinned at his attempt to fish for details, “Like two peas in a pod, I’ve been told. Twins are like that.”

He chose not to ask questions about other similarities. He’d seen enough to add two plus two, and frankly he wanted to turn a blind eye to many things. For now, Scott would delude himself into thinking he understood the woman and that history didn’t matter.

Maybe it would haunt them later—maybe it wouldn’t.

Tessa scooped up the newspapers by the door, planning to place them into a nearby trashcan. She excused herself and walked to the kitchen. She didn’t look left or right at the photos; she had to be in the right mood to see Rhen’s smiling face next to hers the day Dante bought the Mustang. Another with the addition of Father Luke looking over her shoulder as they all decorated a Christmas tree at St. Josephs, the four standing with linked arms. Several other curios dotted the family room, the clutter a stark contrast to her own decorating style.

Second nature maybe, as if she’d done it a thousand times before, the redhead stepped around the room and pulled all the blinds down, then checked the backdoor lock. Just to make sure.

She glanced back, waiting for her cohort to venture further into the known gangster’s home. Through the kitchen door, she could see Scott moving around. He might have been rearranging the sofa pillows. Tessa stood in front of the wall-mounted oven. “Are you hungry?” she called to Scott in the other room.

Food sounded like a good thing, but Scott was wondering if he had the energy to chew. “Hey, I thought you said you couldn’t cook?” Soup from a can might work, but he’d have to lift the spoon.

“No, my exact words were, I don’t cook,” she corrected, “I never said I didn’t know how.”

Scott took a seat on the couch and closed his eyes. “Don’t fuss.” He could hear Tessa banging around in the kitchen. “I call dibs on the couch,” Scott said. “In fact, I’m so tired, I’ll sleep just about anywhere.”

Seeing that he wasn’t paying attention, she pulled open the oven door and pressed a button hidden on the upper inside. She stepped back a half step, enough to move out of the way of the metal tray that slid out from the back panel.

“Hidden in plain sight,” Tessa muttered, gazing at the small array of handguns.

The police took the opportunity to flip the house after the Pascal DeMarco murder, in hopes of finding something. But they were dealing with a professional. Like father, like son, he left no clues behind. Releasing a small sigh, the petite redhead reluctantly reached for her brother’s signature piece. Rescuing the pistol from the stash, Tessa checked the safety. The gun felt comfortable in her hand. Maybe a bit too comfortable. Without thinking, she pressed the same hidden button again, effectively locking up the tiny arsenal.

A tiny smile formed across her full lips, some things are what they are. “Dante doesn’t cook, either,” she said, barely above a whisper, “must be a family trait.”

Chapter 17

Anatomy

Zzz zzz zz…

The room was dark and his companion was bathed in candlelight. Across the white linen tablecloth, a beautiful redhead smiled at him, her eyes a vivid blue. Scott returned a boyish grin that transformed his face into something approachable, warm and friendly.

His hand extended across the snowy white surface and captured the other, smaller and softer hand in his own. A thumb traced the inside of her palm in an idle caress. Reluctantly, he looked up as a waiter set a tray of food in the empty space on the table. Food seemed necessary, and yet a complicated idea when all he wanted to do was sit…and stare.

The smell was his downfall. That, and the flirty antics of the beautiful woman who lifted the cover off the plate and then placed a morsel of food in his mouth. Chocolate. Smooth and rich, the flavor exploded in his mouth along with the strawberry it covered. Returning the favor, he offered Tessa her own, his fingers sliding along her lips and over her jaw line.

Smell. Touch. Taste. It all seemed so real. The impulse was there, to lean forward and…

THUMP

Scott rolled off the couch. Shock woke him, the involuntary “ow” coming from his lips. He nearly swore as he collected himself and his guilty thoughts.

He saw Tessa, seated on the living room floor. She had a picnic spread around her: a couple Hershey bars, a bowl of soup, crackers and the contents of Marlayna’s purse was strewn on the floor between them.

A gun was balanced on her thigh. The shine of steel caught his eye. He didn’t remember a weapon in the purse, and if it had been there, they would never have passed airport security.

One hand went to his heart, the other to his forehead as he tried to absorb all the information before him in a hasty breath. “I must have dozed off.”

Tessa picked up the gun and held it loosely in her left hand. “You were talking in your sleep,” she admonished.

“Really?” Scott said, “Did I say anything interesting?”

“Mm-hmm,” she mumbled.

She didn’t elaborate. Something in the atmosphere had changed, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. His eyes skidded over the living room contents, cataloguing as reporters do. Traditional furniture, the piano, one lamp burning. The framed photograph on the coffee table, forcibly reminding him of what Dante looked like.

“Put the gun away, Tessa. Someone’s liable to get hurt.” Of course, he was half thinking that someone would be him. “You’re not your brother,” he added, insensitively.

Lifting the weapon, she aimed it in his direction. “We’re a lot more alike than you think.”

He remained cool under her intent gaze. “Honestly, it was just a dream. You don’t need to worry about your honor yet.”

“What?” she had to laugh. “Sometimes you say the most bizarre things.”

“I like to think of them more as ‘interesting’” he winked.

Tessa set the weapon down out of his reach. She picked up the plate of crackers and offered him one. “It would be quieter if I just poisoned you.”

“True.” Not intimidated, Scott took a bite of the Saltine and chewed. He swallowed, and stole a sip from her water glass. “Well, I can’t exactly say it’s bread and water, but…”

She picked up the dish of candy. “Chocolate?”

The grin on his face was wicked. “I’d better not. Maybe later.”

She took a piece of the candy bar from the plate, and let it melt on her tongue. “I’ll try and save you some.”

Scott leaned forward and sniffed. “So, find anything of interest?”

“Not sure. A couple keys that weren’t on a key ring, but I think you saw those.” She shrugged. “The business card assortment isn’t what I would expect from a high-powered executive.”

“Why?” Reaching for the stack, Scott mimicked her actions from the plane, sorting and flipping each in turn.

“She’s got two for a coin laundromat. Seriously, doesn’t she have a maid?” Tessa said

“A laundromat? Scott questioned.

“Yeah, Nickel Laundry here in the city…ever heard of it?

As a matter of fact, he had. Scott took the cards from her hand and casually flipped them over. Both were blank on the back.

“Perhaps a meeting place?” Tessa said.

“Perhaps,” was all Scott offered.

“See, here’s another odd one: ‘Fellows Gas Bar’. What are the odds that Marlayna would pump her own gas?”

He took that card from Tessa too, he recognized the name. Coincidences were starting to add up and Scott didn’t like the feeling of the supposed randomness.

Halfheartedly, Tessa snapped Marlayna’s cell phone open. The same meaningless info met her gaze as it had Scott’s. Five preprogrammed numbers, each with initials to denote the identity, and one entry that didn’t follow the typical, 3 digit then four digit, format. To her it looked much like a combination.

Suddenly a random thought came to her and her face lightened, “Hey, when you looked at this before, did you look at Marlayna’s personal organizer?” At the same time she pushed the appropriate buttons on the tiny screen to bring up the application. “Isn’t modern technology something else?”

Before he could answer, Tessa was asking him another question. “Why would she have two separate schedules programmed in here? Both with appointments made for the same dates and times but in two different places. Look,” she said, twisting the screen so he could see too, “going back a month to the beginning of April she has it keyed in that she’s flying out of town the same time the other schedule has her listed to be at Coney Island and the same a week earlier. Again she’s flying out of town on this one but on the second schedule she’s got keyed in Nickel Laundry.” Her blue eyes shifted to the pile of business cards.

Scott was thankful for the low lighting in the living room, maybe Tessa wouldn’t notice the color draining from his cheeks. He’d have to check his notes but he had a sinking feeling the dates would coincide with appointments he’d kept.

Her thumb manipulated the items on the screen. “Same kind of double bookings in March, February and January; always a booked flight on the one schedule and the other agenda that she named K.M., has meetings all over town booked for when she’s supposedly out of town.”

Looking down at the screen, Scott felt sick to his stomach. It wasn’t obvious unless you knew what you were looking for. There was no doubt now in his mind; the K.M. stood for Kosh Morgano – Dante’s nickname. The short listed schedule were the dates and times they’d met to discuss Mob business; notably information that aimed him in the direction to expose the Xenex Company.

“When’s the last entry?”

“Hum?”

Hesitantly, Scott took the phone from Tessa’s hand and somewhat in the same manner, scrolled down the length of K.M.‘s schedule. Several dates were blank up until the 17th – an ECC 343 was entered into that date box. He didn’t recognize the acronym for any local spot and the number seemed more than odd for a meeting, but then again, nothing at that moment was making sense to him.

“You okay?”

“Sure,” he said, “it’s been… quite a day.”

Tessa hesitated to believe him, there was more to it, but she lacked the inner strength to push the matter. “Okay, so what do we know so far?” Her tone was somewhat sarcastic. She was referring to what they’d learned from lifting Marlayna’s purse and rummaging through it. It had seemed hardly worth the effort.

“We know now that the stained glass window was donated to the church, not by the DeMarco family as an odd memoriam and message as we’d first thought - but by your father.”

Scott’s gaze was distant and unfocused. “It’s not hanging in the church either but at the Smith Museum, which the corrupt Chicago Pier and Exhibition Authority is in connection with. Another intersection of our players.”

“Yeah, so. I don’t understand what that’s got to do with anything we found in this purse.”

Scott shrugged, “I don’t have all the angles figured out yet. I’m just saying, all roads seem to be leading back to Rome.” He peeled himself off the floor, tossing the couple of business cards he still had in his hand next to the open purse.

Tessa chewed on her lip, she didn’t like the way he’d put that.

“I need to get another look at that stained glass window.”

“Why?” she asked, with some trepidation.

“Now that we know it was Donatello that gave the window to St. Joseph’s, wouldn’t you say the picture itself takes on a whole new meaning?” Now he turned to look at her.

“No.” She met his gaze, but merely blinked and said, “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

“What are the chances there’s a Bible around here?” he mumbled, his words coming out slower as he spoke. “I might be able to get my head around it if I saw the text again for the two quotes listed on the glass.”

“I don’t think the references were meant to be literal.”

“Humor me.”

With a hefty sigh, Tessa walked over to the bookshelf. Dante’s copy of the blessed book didn’t immediately pop into view. “Maybe his bedroom…one copy of Gideon coming up.”

Tessa walked down the hall. The bedroom looked a bit dusty, but the bed was made. She turned on a lamp and riffled the drawer in the nightstand. She pulled out a black book. The room was quiet as she flipped through the pages looking for the reference.

Scott, who followed her, sprawled onto the bed. He lay on his back, looking at the entries in Marlayna’s phone and then yawned, fighting his curiosity and fatigue.

“I don’t know why we’re wasting our time with this, when we should be figuring out how Marlayna is involved. There’s too much weird stuff here for it to be nothing.”

But Scott didn’t reply. It was only then that she realized he’d fallen asleep. At least that’s how he looked. His breathing was even, Marlayna’s phone resting on his stomach in a loose grip.

She drew the quilt up, and laid the blanket across his lap.

The movement caused Scott to stir. He shifted his shoulders, snuggling into the soft mattress. “Sleepy?” Tessa said, her voice soft.

“Maybe a little,” he mumbled, eyes closed. “It is three in the morning. Where do you get your energy?”

“I can’t help thinking there’s a link to her that I’m missing.”

“She’s a classic red herring. Always leading you the wrong way with misinformation.” He didn’t want to think about how she’d used and followed him. He wanted happy thoughts.

One of his eyes opened. “I got other things on my mind.”

“Like what?”

The green eye closed again. “Chocolate.”

“What?”

“Can you hand me the plate?” Scott waved towards Tessa’s makeshift picnic in the other room.

Rolling her eyes, Tessa said, “No.”

“Too bad. I have a real craving for chocolate.”

“Hmm.” Tessa put the Bible back on the nightstand with a soft thump. “I thought you called dibs on the couch.”

“Changed my mind.” Eyes still closed, he looked very much like he wasn’t moving anytime soon. He crooked a finger, and his voice was soft, “I have a confession.”

She wasn’t sure she heard him right and leaned forward. “What?”

“It turns out I am involved with a woman that I work with.” Scott opened his eyes. He lifted a hand to caress the back of her neck. He waited half a heartbeat before he applied just enough pressure to bring her face close enough to kiss her. The touch of his lips to her forehead was light, lasting just over a second. He broke the contact and whispered, “And that’s the only thing I’ve lied to you about.”