The Old Witcheroo (21 page)

His definitive answer made me laugh. “Then so be it. I’m gonna go grab some dinner and mull over this mess with Officer Nelson, okay? Be here when I get back?”

“I am wherever you need me to be, my gentle lamb chop with mint jelly.”

Closing my eyes, I smiled into the darkness. “Thank you, Arkady,” I whispered.

“You are welcome,
malutka
. Always,” he whispered back.

* * * *

“Back so soon?” Tippy asked, handing me a menu with a grin. She looked much more relaxed and rested than she had earlier this afternoon.

I took the menu from her and shook my head in amazement. “You’re still here, Tippy? Don’t you ever sleep?”

“I just popped back in. Bob had some trouble with the freezer latch. But I’m back out again in a minute. What can I get you to drink? Coffee?”

“Yes, please. I could use the boost of caffeine about now.”

Tippy shuffled off while I perused the menu and dug more aspirin out of my purse for my nose, whose dull throb had returned in full force.

Buried in the wide plastic menu, I jumped when someone dropped something on my table.

“Eleanor,” I heard Tippy gently scold. “How about we try this again?”

I caught sight of the pictures and put aside the menu, looking up at Eleanor scowling down at me, her soft cheeks red. “Hi, Eleanor. How are you tonight?”

She blew a strand of stray hair from her face and glowered harder. “Aunt Tippy says I have to apologize. So I’m sorry.”

Tippy put an arm around Eleanor’s shoulders and shook her head with an admonishing smile. “That’s not how it’s done, Eleanor, and you know it. At least say it like you mean it. And it’s not Stevie’s fault she caught you off guard. She was as surprised as you.”

I didn’t want to put any pressure on Eleanor, but I also didn’t want to interfere with the lesson Tippy was trying to get across either. “You know what, Eleanor, why don’t I order my food and maybe you could show me some of your pictures? I’d love to see them.”

Everything changed from that moment on. Her face brightened, her shoulders squared and she pulled out her pad to take my order. “What would you like? Officer Nelson likes his bacon crispy. Do you like yours that way, too?”

I couldn’t help but grin even though we were still on the subject of Officer Nelson. “I sure do. Who doesn’t like crispy bacon? But I think tonight I’d really like the meatloaf and mac and cheese, if that’s okay.”

“You got it!” she said, her tone excited as she raced to the back to put my order in.

Smiling after her, I glanced down at the pictures of Dana and sighed. How was I going to get him out of jail with the preponderance of evidence so wholly against him?

Running my hands through my hair, I clenched my fists. Maybe with some food in me, I’d be able to think clearer. As the scent of burgers and pot roast permeated my nose, I gazed at the pictures Eleanor had taken—an entire stack of them.

Gosh, Eleanor really was talented. I fanned them out, shuffling and pushing them, trying to decide which I liked best and I just couldn’t choose. Every picture of Dana said something, spoke volumes about his strength, his character, the warmth he exuded that I’d somehow missed because I was always so busy razzing him about what a stickler for the rules he was.

Eleanor returned with my plate, that smile still on her face. She set my meatloaf down, the steaming platter rich with brown gravy, making my stomach grumble and reminding me I’d only had a cup of coffee all day long.

“Thank you, Eleanor. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until you put that under my nose. It smells delicious.” I motioned to the seat in the booth opposite me and smiled. “Sit with me, okay? Let’s talk about these pictures. You’re so talented!”

She slid into the booth, brushing her brown hair from her face, and nodded. “I love to take pictures. They make me happy. Dana makes me happy. Sophia, too.”

My heart turned over in my chest. “You liked Sophia, didn’t you?”

Eleanor bobbed her head, her fingertips tracing one of the photos of Dana and Sophia on the street where her apartment building was located. “Yep. She was really nice and pretty. You’re pretty, too, Stevie. I’m sorry I called you a snoop.”

As I shoveled meatloaf into my mouth, I reached across the table and brushed my free hand against hers. “Apology accepted, Eleanor. Let’s be friends, okay?”

Her satisfied smile beamed back at me. “I’d like that.”

Tippy appeared with a refill on my water and nudged Eleanor over, taking a place beside her. “Remembered something today a little while after you left, and after I talked to Eleanor.”

Covering my full mouth with my hand, I muttered, “Hmm?”

“Actually, Eleanor remembered it, right, El?” She wrapped her arm around Eleanor’s shoulders and squeezed.

“Yep. Aunt Tippy said she told you about Sophia talking on the phone in a foreign language. I don’t know what she was saying, but I remember her saying Mama Ortolini. It sorta rhymes with tortellini and that’s my favorite pasta.”

I paused mid-mouthful and cocked my head. Why was that name familiar? I tried to recall the conversation last night where Bel, Win, and I had talked about all those crime families. They all had last names ending in an ini or a tucci.

Swallowing, I swiped my mouth with a napkin and pulled my phone out, typing in the last name as I asked, Eleanor,” Do you remember anything else she might have said?”

Eleanor shrugged and wrinkled her nose. “Nuh-uh. Sorry. That’s it. But we can still be friends, can’t we?”

“Of course we can.” I pointed to her pictures of Dana. “Tell me about your pictures and why you choose to take the ones you do.”

As Eleanor began to explain why some photos of Dana were in focus while the area around him, she’d chosen to blur, I noticed something quite peculiar.

A silver Hyundai Sonata in more than just one of the pictures where Dana was with Sophia.

I paused, getting that tingle I’d begun to pay closer attention to these days. Pointing to the picture on the sidewalk of Sophia’s apartment building, I asked, “Eleanor? What were you doing there that day?”

She didn’t hesitate when she replied, “I was taking a walk on the docks across the street and I saw Dana and Sophia. I waved and smiled at them. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. They knew I was there, swear it.”

I lifted a hand to reassure her she wasn’t in any trouble. “No. I don’t think you were doing anything wrong, Eleanor. I’m just wondering if you saw anyone in this car here?” I pointed to the silver car whose license plate I couldn’t see.

She shook her head. “I didn’t really pay attention. I was really focused on getting the shot while the lighting was right.”

I sifted through more of the pictures, finding four others of Dana and Sophia with the same car. One parked three doors down from Strange Brew as the couple sipped coffee and chatted. One of the two of them walking hand in hand at the food court, and yet another of them at the docks.

“How long ago did you take these, Sophia?”

Her shoulders rose and fell in a careless shrug. “I guess about a month ago, maybe even as early as two weeks ago. Why?”

I smiled so as not to upset her, keeping my answer relaxed. “Just curious, I guess. You know me, always snooping, right? Did the police see these?”

“Nope. They just looked at the ones in my locker.”

“By any chance do you know if you have any more pictures with this car in it?”

“I dunno. I might. What’s the big deal about the car?”

Tippy squeezed Eleanor’s shoulders and said, “It sounds like it might be important and it might help Officer Nelson. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To help Dana? Could you look for us?”

Her sweet face beamed as she tapped her hands on the table. “I’d do anything for Officer Nelson. I’ll go look.”

As she scooted out of the booth, Tippy climbed back in and asked, “What’s going on in that brain of yours, Stevie?”

I tapped the last photo with the car. “That car is in quite a few of these pictures. It makes me suspicious. Maybe it means something, maybe not. But I can’t leave any stone unturned. I’ll take anything to help Dana at this point.”

“I have some more!” Eleanor yelled from the back of the diner, bursting through the kitchen’s swinging doors, her eyes wildly excited. She waved the pictures at me. “See?”

When she placed them on the table, they scattered, sliding around on the slick surface of the photo stock.

But I only needed to see one picture.

By goddess, I’d found Sophia’s killer.

“Eleanor, you’re awesome! I could kiss you! But I have to run now, okay?” I said as I slid out of the booth, my body barely able to keep up with my feet. “Come on into Madam Zoltar’s anytime and maybe we can go have a coffee or grab some lunch at the food trucks?”

I began to run toward the door before I remembered I’d forgotten to pay. Digging through my purse, I threw down some money and smiled again. “Can I borrow this picture, Eleanor? Promise I’ll take good care of it.”

I think I might have frightened her, judging by the hesitant look on her face, but she nodded. “Sure.”

I grinned at her, even though it hurt my nose. “You’re the best, Eleanor! Talk soon—Tippy, thank you!”

I flew outside and to my car, my pulse racing as I flung the door open and hopped inside. Grabbing my phone to check one last thing for confirmation, I typed in the last name Ortolini and pressed enter.

And then my mouth fell open as I read an article and found a bunch of pictures. One that was definitely of Sophia. Holy lasagna. I had to get to the police station, and I had to do it fast.

Of course, I always remember hindsight when I’m in the full moon of, you guessed it, hindsight. I was so excited by my find, so glad I wasn’t going to end up roughed up by some crazy killer this time because I was going to nip all this in the bud before it ever got that far, that I forgot to keep my excitement on the inside.

I also forgot to keep my common sense on the outside.

No. I was too busy patting myself on the back about how I was going to get out of this one with nary a scratch. No broken butts and black eyes for this girl.

I pulled into the police station parking lot on two tires, taking the right-hand turn at breakneck speed. I’d tried calling on Win to tell him what I’d discovered but he was still recuperating, and Arkady appeared to be out of the loop, too.

But that was okay. I didn’t need anyone to instruct me on how to get away from a deranged madman. I was going to come out of this unscathed and celebrate with a couple of Twinkies and a glass of cold white wine.

Screeching to a halt, I didn’t even park in the visitor’s parking lot. I pulled into the sergeant’s spot as though I’d earned the position myself. Throwing the car into park, I grabbed my purse and made a run for the front doors, Eleanor’s picture in hand.

It was eerily quiet outside the station. The department had been running low on staff and new applicants as of late, according to the Eb Falls
Herald
, but we were a small town, and before this rash of crazy had come to roost here, not a lot went on. I imagine that wasn’t very appealing for a new cop, looking to make his mark.

Still, I wondered where all the cops were. I chalked it up to everyone going off on their nightly patrol, or maybe the change of shift was over at this time of night, but I didn’t think about it
too
much because I was so wrapped up in my hunch.

“Miss Cartwright? What brings you here at this hour?” a voice, always pleasant, asked.

I froze.
Stay calm, Stevie. Show no fear. Make a joke. That always helps.
“Um, I was thinking maybe I’d see if I could sneak in a nail file to Dana. He seems pretty handy and very smart. You think he could file his way out of his cell? You know, MacGyver type stuff?”

“I think you think you’re very funny.”

I put a hand to my chest and feigned surprise, hoping not only to stall, but to see if someone, anyone, was around who could help me. “Me? Nah. I don’t think I’m funny at all. In fact, I could win awards for not being funny.”

“So what’s that you have there in your hand, Miss Cartwright?”

A billboard sign announcing your guilt in the murder of Sophia Fleming? “This?” I squeaked, tucking it under my arm. “Oh, it’s just a picture.”

“May I see it?”

I swallowed the lump in my dry throat. “Uh…no?”

“That’s the wrong answer.
I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist
.”

And that was the hindsight thing I was talking about. In hindsight, I should have put that stupid picture in my purse before I ever got out of my car.

I should have scanned the area to be sure the killer wasn’t anywhere in sight before I pranced into the Eb Falls police station like I was prancing into a dance hall.

I also should have made up a lame story about why I was at the police station when I ran into the killer. I could have said anything. I could have been pretending to report a robbery at MZ’s, or a break-in at the house. Heck, I could think of a frillion things…
now
…when the killer’s dragging me off to his car at gunpoint.

See what I mean about hindsight? When I get my brain cells into high gear, it’s always, I repeat, always when my hindsight is in its full moon.

Everything is always very clear. All the right things I should’ve said make themselves apparent. All the spy tactics I could have used make themselves known.

In hindsight.

“
O
ne sound, Miss Cartwright, and I blow your head off.”

“Shouldn’t it be pointed at my head then?” I asked, the barrel of the gun digging into my ribs to keep it hidden, should anyone cross our paths as I was dragged toward the side of the parking lot where it was growing darker by the minute.

Of course, that wouldn’t happen because it would be too easy.

“I’m pretty quick, Miss Cartwright. Don’t worry about a thing. Just know I’ll hit you where it counts.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that at all. I mean, you managed to kill Sophia without looking back. I’m sure it would just take a flick of your wrist and my brains would be splat, all over the parking lot. Which is messy, no doubt, and likely wouldn’t make you a friend of the janitorial department. Question is, how are you going to explain killing Stevie Cartwright?”