Bake Me a Murder (7 page)

I knew he was watching for my reaction, so I tried my best not to show any. My stomach dropped, but he couldn’t see that.

“Now if you happen to see Rico again, Claire, let the big boys handle him.”

I ignored his stupid dig about me versus the ‘big boys’. “Rico is looking for Coco’s phone.”

Corrigan motioned for me to have a seat. “How do you know that?”

I looked away from his blue eyes and gave him a rundown of my Rico encounter.

“So you didn’t just spot Carreras. You talked to him.” Corrigan drummed on his desk. He mumbled, “We didn’t find her phone in Pokov’s apartment either, but he may have stashed it somewhere else. Like his parent’s place.” He put his hand on mine and, as if he’d touched hot ice, jerked away. “You shouldn’t have interacted with that scum, but uh, good work.”

I thought my hearing was off. Rather than tossing out a snide comment, I thanked him.

My mind spun away from Corrigan’s remarks to Merle, who may have had an alibi until six. But what about once he got home? And before or after he called Ed?
I again discounted any doubts I had about Merle’s innocence. I couldn’t afford them.

Besides, it was too much of a coincidence for Rico to be in Cleveland the same time as Coco’s murder. That brought me back to her phone. Whatever she had in it must have been valuable to him. I became determined to find it, convinced it would clear Merle and point to Rico as the killer. First, though, I wanted to talk to Merle and make sure he didn’t have the thing hidden.

While my plan formed in my head Corrigan peered at me, his eyes, slits. “What’s going on in that overactive brain of yours?”

“When can I see Mr. Pokov?”

“He’s being booked right now. Maybe after his arraignment.”

“When will that be?”

Corrigan shrugged. “When it goes on the docket.”

I dug my nails into my palms. “Thanks. You’ve been so helpful.” I stood up to leave.

“Claire, wait.”

I hesitated, expecting some childish comment. Instead his voice softened and, with his eyes everywhere but on me, said, “I didn’t mean to say you were pigheaded.”

My heart did a happy dance despite my brain’s reservations. That earlier argument had convinced me any relationship, especially one with a cop, was out of the question. Still, I felt obligated to reciprocate. “I understand. And I don’t really think you’re a horse’s ass.”

He smiled and I returned to business. “Where did Ed go?”

Corrigan, a chuckle tickling his words, said, “Probably outside talking to that lawyer who got his degree from Fisher Price.”

I lowered my head so Corrigan couldn’t see the heat rising in my face. Some PI I was. Didn’t even notice Ed had disappeared. I hurried outside to catch up with my associate.

I found him and Harold by Ed’s car in the parking lot adjacent to the police station. Harold nodded toward me. “My client—“

“He means Merle.” Ed interrupted.

“Yes, I do. As you know, he’s been arrested. The last time they brought him in, he had no alibi and a dirt match. Fortunately that fell through when a co-worker came forward and stated he’d seen Mr. Pokov at work at the time of the murder. The dirt match wasn’t enough, so much to their chagrin, the police couldn’t charge him. They kept looking for evidence. Of course, we’re also looking for evidence that Mr. Pokov
didn’t
commit the murder.”

Watching Harold pull his too-short shirt sleeves to cover his bony wrists reminded me my client’s attorney was still a growing boy. “They’ve found some,” I added in a soft voice, “but so far we haven’t found any.”

“A matter of time.”

While Harold’s optimism probably assured his clients, it didn’t convince me. Nor did it seem to allay Ed’s worries. He fidgeted as if fire ants were on him. “Dammit! We gotta do something. Merle didn’t kill Coco. I’ve known him all my life. Guy wouldn’t stomp on a worm.”

Harold checked his watch. “Don’t worry, Ed. The jury will be convinced of his innocence. Now I have to go see someone about Mr. Pokov’s arraignment. For his sake, the sooner it’s held, the better. From what I already know, the evidence is not ironclad. My objective is to find and exploit the weak spots.”

I thought again about Rico. “Or prove someone else committed the crime.” I needed to get my hands on Coco’s phone, but I had no idea where to look. Tony denied having it and Rico was looking for the thing. The police had found Coco’s car in Rocky River Reservation, part of the Metropark system, and for sure, gone over it with great care. They didn’t find the phone either.

An idea came to me, but it meant asking Corrigan for another favor, something I hated to do. But if I could save Merle, my pride didn’t matter. Or, I could ask Ed to ask Corrigan for the list of calls in Coco’s phone.

Ed looked at me like I’d asked him if he could jump across the Grand Canyon. “Nah, Corrigan’s sweet on you. You should do it. You’d get better results.”

Harold held up a hand. “If the police get her records, as Mr. Pokov’s defense attorney, I’ll have access to them as well.”

“That’s great, but it’ll take time. I’m going back to the West City Lounge to talk to a witness.” I wanted to talk with Eric about Coco’s phone. The cops didn’t have it, nor did Rico or Tony. That left Eric, especially since he might have been the last person to talk to Coco. At the very least he could tell me if she had her phone with her when he saw her.

On my way to see Eric at the lounge, I stopped to get a burger. While waiting at the takeout window, I got a call from Aunt Lena. The woman has the worst timing of anyone I know.

“Claire, I hate to ask, but have you seen Ed? He just called off our date for tonight and cancelled our whole weekend together. He sounded worried sick over his cousin. He didn’t give me the details. Is there anything I can do?”

Not being the person to give out advice to the lovelorn, I squirmed a bit. Besides that, it seemed unnatural for my aunt to hesitate, unsure of what to do. She’d always barreled through life’s problems. “Just be there for Ed if he needs you. Merle’s been charged with the murder of his girlfriend, Coco. Ed’s taking it hard, but he’s working with me to clear his cousin.” Pretty inane but it was the best I could do. My record on relationships wasn’t exactly stellar.

She sighed. “But he’s got to take care of himself.”

“He is, by doing something. He’ll be okay. I’ll let him know you called, concerned.”

“No, don’t tell him. He’ll think I’m sticking my nose in his business. I am, but I don’t want him to know. If I can do anything…”

“I’ll let you know.” The girl at the takeout window handed me my food. “I hate to cut you off, Aunt Lena, but—”

“It’s okay. You go on.”

It would’ve been great had Eric been at the lounge. He was nowhere in sight. Marlene, the bartender, told me he’d been there earlier. That was my clue to call it a day and find him tomorrow. I gave the burger to the hungriest-looking of the men huddled near the doorway.

Thursday, 9:00 a.m.

Thursday morning I repeated what I’d done the night before and picked up food for Eric. This time it was an egg-and-cheese sandwich and a chocolate shake.

Eric was at his usual spot, outside West City Lounge, smoking. I dodged the broken glass on the uneven sidewalk and thrust a grease-stained bag at him. “Want it? It’s a breakfast sandwich. I was going to eat it on the way here, but my appetite’s gone.”

His eyes grew big and for a second he reminded me of a hungry wolf smelling blood. He took one last drag on his cigarette, pinched the lit end and slipped it in his pocket. “Yeah. The pasta you gave me was great, even cold. But I could eat this morning.” He snatched the bag from my hands and hesitated. “Sure you don’t want this?” When I shook my head, he unwrapped the sandwich and took a massive bite.

While he chewed, I played my hunch. “Mind if I ask you to do me a favor?” His cheeks puffed out, he mumbled something I assumed was an agreement.

“Can I use your phone? It’s important and mine is dead.”

Eric swallowed the huge bite he’d taken, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and pulled out his phone.

I kept my tone light and casual. “That’s a nice one. Is it new?”

He took great care wrapping the rest of his sandwich. His jaw tensed and I glimpsed the ferociousness that made him a great high school football player. I blinked and it was gone. “It’s not mine. It’s, well…Coco’s. She gave it to me. Asked if I’d keep it for her until she got back. Swear to God I didn’t steal it.”

“I believe you. It
is
a nice phone. Still, why didn’t you turn it over to the police?”

“I forgot about it. Then when I found out she was dead, thought maybe I could use it.” He stopped and glanced around. “Truth is, I was going to try and sell it.”

I kept any accusation out of my voice. “I know what it’s like to be broke. It sucks. That’s my constant state. But the phone is evidence and you’ve got to turn it over to the police.”

He frowned. “Can you give it to them? Tell them you found it somewhere?”

“They’ll figure it out. Better you hand it over yourself.” Before I gave it back, I checked Coco’s call history and texts.

She’d gotten five calls from the same number and, I’d have bet my last dollar it belonged to Rico. Her final call was from area code 878, Pittsburgh. Probably a family member from back home, but I copied it anyway. Her texts consisted of a few from Rico. None of them very nice.

Eric watched me, his face unreadable. “You sure the cops won’t bust me for keeping the phone?”

I was seldom sure of anything, but he did need to turn the phone in. I chose my words with care. “It’ll look like you wanted to help. Tell the police what you told me.” After dialing Corrigan’s number, I handed Eric the phone.

His hands shook, whether from nerves or alcohol I didn’t know. “Detective Corrigan?” Eric
switched the phone to his other ear. “It’s Eric Allescio. I’m at the West City Lounge. I, um, I have Coco’s phone.” Corrigan’s words weren’t clear, but Eric nodded and said, “I’ll wait right here.” The call ended and Eric deflated like a balloon with an air leak.

What little color Eric had in his face drained away. “You’ll stay here ‘til they come?”

That was among the last things I wanted to do. I needed to get moving and find out if it had been Rico who called Coco five times. I glanced at Eric and saw a man whose time on earth hadn’t been so great and was about to get worse. “If you want me to.”
So much for being a hard-boiled private detective.
I held my hand out and he placed Coco’s phone in it.

“Yeah.” He licked his lips. “I could use a drink about now.”

“I have a chocolate shake in my car. It’s probably a little warm. I’m going to get it for you.” I didn’t want to offer him anything alcoholic.

I returned and handed him the beverage. He took it and sucked on the straw. His heart didn’t appear to be in it.

“Eric, I have to make a call but I’ll be back before the police get here.”

He nodded and took another draw from the milkshake.

I sat in my car and dialed the numbers I’d written down. They didn’t belong to anyone anymore. Probably disposable phones. I went through the pictures on her phone, taking my time. Besides the numerous selfies, were multiple photos of worn furniture in a room with grey walls. Her living quarters? The last photo was of a dark haired girl, early twenties, in the tiniest of bathing suits. Her mouth hung open like she was drunk or high. Asking Eric if he knew who she was seemed like a good idea.

Before getting the chance, a car pulled up. Corrigan, making it here in record time. He must have been in the vicinity. I jumped out of my car and hurried over to Eric, slipping him Coco’s phone.

When Corrigan saw me he shaded his eyes with his hand and shook his head. “What a surprise. It’s DeNardo.” He removed his hand and glared at me. “I’d ask you what you were doing here, but I’m sure the answer would just irritate me.”

Eric chimed in. “I asked Claire to be here.” Corrigan scowled, but didn’t offer a response. Eric set the shake down on the sidewalk and continued. “Coco gave me her phone to hold for her.”

Corrigan bagged the phone. “This is evidence. You should have turned it in when you found out Ms. Sanchez was dead.”

Eric nodded. “I know.”

As if contemplating his next action, Corrigan said, “I should run you in.”

It was time for my two cents. “But he did turn it in of his own free will.”

Eric’s fists clenched and unclenched. “Yeah. That should count for something”

“All right, all right.” Corrigan rubbed his forehead. “Anything else you’d like to come clean with?”

“That was it.”

“It’d better be. You’re free to go for now. Just don’t go far. Claire, a word.”

I wasn’t falling for that trick this go-round. Last time he wanted a word with me he’d locked me in his car. But when he crooked his finger again I decided maybe I’d better follow.

Chapter Seven

O
nce we were out of Eric’s hearing, Corrigan stared at me like he was trying to read my thoughts. “I suppose you deserve some thanks for getting him to turn in the phone.”

“Don’t strain yourself.”

He stifled a smirk then grew serious. “We already have a warrant for Ms. Sanchez’s phone records, but any pictures she took could help.” He pulled out gloves and opened the camera app. When he found the furniture photos, he checked the date they were taken and the location. “The pictures of furniture are from about two weeks before Ms. Sanchez died.” He showed me the pictures. “Could be, this was where she was living. We’ll check it out.”

He looked at the photo of the dark-haired girl last. “Same location and date as the others. She looks familiar. Maybe she’s in our system.” He slipped Coco’s phone back into an evidence bag.

“Or maybe Eric knows who she is.”

His eyebrows rose, like he was surprised I had a good idea.

Eric had disappeared, but I had a good idea where he was. Opening the door to the lounge, I pointed at him sitting at the bar, tapping his hands on it. No doubt waiting for a drink.

Corrigan followed me inside.