All Murders Final! (21 page)

Chapter 38

I hustled out to my car and sat in it for a couple of seconds, stunned. How had my ring ended up there? At best, Hennessy was selling stolen goods, but at worst, she was a thief. Or there was a slim possibility that she was innocent and someone was using her. I thought back to the day Juanita and I were attacked as I started the car and gunned it out of there. It hadn't seemed like my attacker was a woman, but I guessed it could have been. Maybe that was the connection between Hennessy and Juanita. Maybe they had been stealing things and selling them. Things tucked in drawers or boxes that might go unnoticed for a while.

There'd been complaints about Juanita, unlocked doors and windows, cigarette smoke. Maybe someone else had been slipping in and stealing things. But that didn't fit at all with what had happened at my house. Juanita hadn't been my cleaning lady and certainly wouldn't have had time to case the place. Or maybe she would have if we hadn't been attacked.

My stomach twisted as I thought about the cameo and Ryan. It was possible that two identical cameos were engraved with the exact same words. Possible. Not probable. How would he know what I liked?
Duh.
I spent a lot of time at DiNapoli's. We talked about everything, and if I wasn't with the DiNapolis, I was there talking to Stella or Carol. Ryan was always around, seemingly in the background, but clearing tables and chatting with patrons, chatting with me. He could have overheard lots of things I'd said. Heck, we'd chatted enough that I might have told him some of those things. He was a member of my garage sale site, so he'd also been able to watch what I bid on. He could have made up fake profiles and sent threats.

Oh, no, and the pictures . . .
He could have sent those, too. I thought about the one time I'd been with Seth and hadn't gotten a photo. Maybe Ryan had been working so he hadn't seen Seth coming or going. The thought was chilling. And far-fetched, I hoped. It was one thing to send me anonymous gifts, but to also send threats and rob me? Maybe even attack me? Why would one person do all those things? Why would Ryan?

I pulled into CJ's driveway, startled to find myself here. His car was in the carport. What was I doing here? What if he had a woman over? I put the car in reverse, but the outside light snapped on. CJ stepped out into the carport, arms folded against the cold or me. I wasn't sure which. I slid out of the car and hurried over to him.

“Have you been sending me gifts?”

CJ looked down at me. “It's cold out here. Come inside.” He held the door open for me.

I hoped his answer was yes.
Please let his answer be yes.
I entered, turned left in the small foyer, went up two steps into the kitchen. I took a few more steps and turned, almost slamming into CJ's chest. He stepped back.

I unbuttoned my coat and held the cameo up. “Did you send me this? Please say yes.” We were so close, I felt heat coming off him.

CJ bent to study the cameo, then met my eyes. “This is the one you had on the other night. I didn't send it to you. Why do you think I did?”

I shut my eyes and put a hand out to steady myself on the counter. CJ pulled me to him. “What's going on?” he asked.

I leaned back so I could watch CJ's face. “I can't believe that I'm going to say this, but I think Ryan Jones is stalking me. Do you know Ryan? He works at DiNapoli's.”

“Busboy?”

“And handyman.”

“Nice guy.”

“Maybe not.”

“Tell me what all this is about,” CJ said.

“Last fall, not long after I told you and Seth I needed some time, presents started to arrive. One a month. Each one so personal that I figured only you could have sent them.”

“What did you get?”

“A box of See's Candies, a DVD of
The African Queen
, a red Coach purse, and this cameo.” I pointed at it. “I thought it was your way of telling me you still cared about me.” I felt like a fool and tried to step away from CJ, but he held on to me.

“Why do you think Ryan sent these things?”

I explained to him what had happened at Hennessy's store. “Then I thought about it. Ryan's a member of my garage sale site. He could have seen my online argument with Margaret. He could have . . .” I took a deep breath. “Maybe he killed her because of it. He heard me telling the DiNapolis about the attack that involved Juanita and then . . . then killed her, too, out of some very warped idea of love.”

“I'll call it in. Have him picked up for questioning.” CJ started to move away.

“Wait. There's more.”

CJ leaned against the kitchen counter.

“You know someone took pictures of me and sent them?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there were also some threats that came through the virtual garage sale site. It would have been easy enough for Ryan to do both things. Setting up a fake account online is simple. Then he'd invite that fake person to join the site, and then he'd create another fake account when I banned the person sending the threats.”

“I read the report, but I didn't know it had happened more than once.” CJ shook his head.

“It seems like nonsense. I talk to other admins, and they have the same issue. People are crazy.” That last statement made me shudder. Was that why Ryan would send me gifts and threats? Was he crazy? “Someone attacked me in Bedford this afternoon. But I'm fine.” The bruise on my stomach throbbed as I said it.

“Sarah. You have to stay out of whatever it is that's going on.”

“There's something else. My . . . our wedding ring is in a case at Hennessy's shop.”

“You're sure it's yours?”

Yours, not ours.
“Yes, and it's in a box that has
Monterey Jewelers
written on it.”

I took the cameo necklace off and dropped it in my pocket, then walked to the door.

“Wait,” he said. “I stayed away, like you asked. I wanted to honor your request and let you figure things out. But it tore me up. I tried dating other women, but it rarely went beyond a date or two. It went beyond a month with a couple, but I regretted it.”

I knew what he was trying to tell me. We'd always joked about people sleeping together after a month.

“I know I can't compete with Seth's money or family connections—”

“CJ, if you think those things are important to me, you don't know me at all.”

“You didn't let me finish. I was going to say that I can't imagine those things would be important to you. My heart is yours. You are my one and only love. If it's not you, then I'll die a lonely old man.”

Oh, no.
CJ had laid it all out there, and I needed to say something, but I wasn't ready to. I felt like a young forest creature who had just gotten a whiff of smoke and knew it needed to run but didn't know which way to go.

CJ gave a curt nod. “I'll stop by Hennessy's.”

“It's probably too late. The store will be closed.”

“I'll try. And then I'll track down Ryan.” CJ pulled me into a hug. My head fit perfectly under his chin. “I wish I had thought to send you those presents.”

* * *

I'd been home an hour when my phone chimed. I reached for it, hoping this wasn't another photo from my stalker. Could it really be Ryan? I really hoped that I was wrong, that I had somehow added it all up but had come up with the wrong answer. I clicked the button on my phone, determined to focus on the sender's user name. It was another photo rimmed with a black heart. This one stayed up longer than the others had. A full five seconds, during which my heart seemed to stop and I didn't take a breath. I memorized as much of the picture as I could, because this picture wasn't of me—it was of CJ, knocked out and tied up somewhere. The floor was bare wood and could be anywhere. In the corner there was something I couldn't quite make out. It was what I focused on. My only hope for finding CJ.

Chapter 39

Then I recognized it, the shoe chair at Hennessy's. The picture flicked off. Why would she take CJ and not me? I'd just been there, but those three women had come into the store as I was leaving. Maybe their presence had saved me. The look that had crossed Hennessy's face wasn't due to the fact that she had to stay open late. They'd screwed up her plan—whatever it was. I should have warned CJ to be careful. But I'd assumed CJ could take care of himself in any situation. My shortsightedness and confidence in my ability to smoke out the bad guy had put him in harm's way. And maybe Hennessy knew what I didn't, that hurting CJ would hurt me far worse than if she had just come after me.

My phone rang, startling me. I answered.

“Don't call the cops. I'll know. I'll send another message to tell you where to meet me.”

“Ryan? Is that you?” But the call disconnected. It had sounded just like Ryan. He had to be in on this with Hennessy. The photos, the burglary ring, the stalking. They must have been in it together all along.

My mind raced as fast as my heart. I had one advantage—I knew that CJ was at Hennessy's, or at least that he had been. I needed help, but if they had CJ, they would have his radio and phone and really would know if I called the police. Maybe if I asked the dispatcher not to sound the alarm over the police radio, it would be okay. No. I couldn't count on the dispatcher handling things safely. CJ's life was in danger. If I called Seth, he'd have to call the police. I couldn't risk CJ being hurt.

I had one option. Mike “the Big Cheese” Titone. He and all his friends were always armed. I could tell by the bulges under their jackets or in their pants. I ran into my bedroom and found the card Mike had given me the day he moved in. I started to dial the phone number on it but wondered if somehow my house had been bugged. Ryan knew so much about me. I took my phone into the bathroom, turned on the water, and called Mike.

“I need your help.” As I said it, I wondered if I would owe him. Kind of like when the Sopranos did something for someone. It was how the Mob got its hooks in you, as far as I knew. But I didn't really care, because if that was what it took, I'd do it and would worry about the consequences later.

“What's up?” Mike asked.

I quickly explained the situation.

“We're on our way. Where should we meet you?”

“There's a little sandwich shop on East Road, not too far from where I think he's being held.”

“Will they be able to see us?”

“No. It's far enough away.”

“Okay. We'll be there as fast as we can.”

The North End to Ellington was about twenty miles. Since it was Sunday, the traffic should be light, so hopefully, they'd be here in thirty minutes. I changed into all black. I even found an old, ratty black knit cap. It was probably one of CJs. The only thing I had that even approximated a weapon was CJ's baseball bat. I got it out from under my bed and headed out, hoping I wouldn't run into anyone.

No such luck. Stella came in as I hurried out.

“Are you in some kind of new nighttime winter baseball league?” she asked, gesturing at my clothes.

“Yes. I am. And I'm running late.”

“We've known each other almost a year. I can tell when you're lying.”

I calculated the risk of telling her what was going on. I knew she'd grown pretty close to Officer Awesome, and I couldn't chance her calling him. “I'm sorry. It's a lie. But I can't tell you anything. Don't worry. I'm meeting Mike Titone.”

“Oh, that makes me feel a lot better.” She studied me with her big green eyes, little lines of worry popping up around them. “I trust you. Good luck with whatever it is you have going on. Let me know if I can help.”

“Thanks, Stella. If you pray, say some prayers.”

* * *

It took me ten minutes to get to the sandwich shop, which was closed. I hoped no EPD cars came by and decided to stop and see what I was up to. I ran the engine periodically. The next twenty minutes seemed like a lifetime. Finally, two big black SUVs with tinted windows pulled up. I rolled down my window, and Mike rolled down his.

“Let's park around back. Outta sight,” he said.

I followed the two SUVs to the back of the sandwich shop. I parked and hopped out of my car, baseball bat in hand. Ski-masked men poured out of both vehicles. They stayed off to the side while I talked to Mike and his brothers. I gave them the address of Hennessy's Heaven. One brother had it up on Google Earth almost the instant I finished talking.

“Tell us about her shop,” Mike said.

I gave a brief description.

“Do you know how many entrances it has?” he asked.

“I'm not sure. There's a back room with an office space, a small restroom, and a dressing room. I think I remember a door back there that led outside.”

“Does it have a basement?”

I closed my eyes and pictured the shop. “I just don't know.”

“A lot of places to hide?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Looks like it's just woods behind the place. No buildings on either side,” Mike's brother said.

Mike nodded. “That's good. Okay, then. Sarah, you wait here. We'll be back with CJ in no time.”

“I'm not waiting here. I'll just follow you, so you might as well let me come with you.”

“I could lock you in one of my vehicles.” Mike studied my face as I stared up at him, tightening my grip on the baseball bat. “Okay, you can come, but you have to stay back. We all have vests and weapons. You have . . . Is that a baseball bat?”

I looked over at the group. The men were checking their handguns, and someone held a shotgun. “I'm sorry I'm not armed. Gun permits are hard to get in Massachusetts and, frankly, I didn't think I'd ever need one.”

“It's fine.”

“Are you laughing at me?”

“Never,” Mike said. And he did look serious.

From behind the building, we set out on foot. The men seemed to move as one and made little noise. I stumbled and tripped in the dark. Mike took my arm to keep me on course. We crossed the back of two buildings and stopped behind the third, which was directly across from Hennessy's. Most of the men put on what looked like night-vision goggles. I didn't want to think about why they had all this gear.

The group split into two. Our group continued along the back of the building; the other ran down its side. One guy in the other group moved like Seth and was almost the same size. I stared as he disappeared around the corner. But Mike's group was moving away from me fast. I hurried to catch up. As we approached the road, Mike stopped our group behind a row of evergreens.

“There's a car parked over on the side of the lot.”

“It's Hennessy's,” I said. I didn't see CJ's car in her lot.

We crept across the street to the edge of the dimly lit parking lot. Now I was grateful that Hennessy's shop was off the beaten path. If it were on a busy street, someone might spot us and call the police. Mike took his cell phone out of his pocket, clicked on an app, and held the phone up toward Hennessy's building.

I stepped closer and saw the glow of some kind of thermal imaging. “Why do you have that?” I asked.

“Hunting.”

I wasn't about to ask what kind of hunting.

“It looks like there's only two people inside,” Mike said. He pointed to the screen on his phone. One person stood over near where I thought the cash register sat. I could see another heat signature a few feet away. It looked to be on the floor and wasn't moving.

I pointed to it. “That must be CJ.” I hoped he was okay. He was so still.

Mike turned to me. “Stay back.” He turned to his guys. “We go in hard and fast.”

Two men positioned themselves on either side of the front door, while another picked the lock. I was sure something similar was going on at the back of the store. Mike held up his hand and started a silent count. When he held up his third finger, everyone moved. The guy who picked the lock swung open the door, and the men ran in. I heard shouts of “Clear” and hustled toward the store.

Hennessy came tearing out the front door, looking back, as if hellhounds were chasing her. And since it was Mike's guys, maybe they were.

I swung the bat, catching her in the ribs. I heard a crack that sounded like bones breaking. Hennessy screamed and slumped to the ground. Her head bounced on the asphalt as she landed.