Lloyd Corricelli - Ronan Marino 01 - Two Redheads & a Dead Blonde (23 page)

She began working her way down my body when her head popped up and she looked around. She reached up and grabbed a remote control from the end table. With a flick of a button, the sounds of Marvin Gaye filled the room. Ironically in college when I’d bring a woman home I use to play Marvin. This was definitely a planned seduction.

“You just happen to have had Marvin Gaye in your CD player?”

“Don’t question the moment,” she said with a little laugh.

She kissed me and again began working her way south with little kisses. When she stopped and went to work, I swore to myself I could make it work with a liberal. There were no politics to be played tonight in the bedroom or in this case, the couch.

About an hour later, I lay exhausted on her bed. To think I’d almost decided not to take her out. It’s not always a bad thing that there’s nothing on TV.

The next morning, we took a shower together and she jumped me right under the hot water. At one point, I started to fear she’d tear my stitches but I persevered. We were both hungry so I took her out to breakfast at the Raven. It was pretty crowded as is typical for a Sunday morning and Jesse was hustling to keep the customers happy. She didn’t even say hi though she did wink at me from across the room. After breakfast, I drove Diane home and dropped her off out front of her building.

“I had an incredible time,” I said.

“I knew you would.”

“Cocky little thing.”

“The only cocky I want is over there.”

She slid across the seat and kissed me long and hard, sliding her hand up my leg.

“Wow, you just don’t hold anything back.”

“Call me,” she demanded and slid back across the seat and out the door. I watched her walk into the building and drove off. It was close to noon and I was beat.  I planned to just watch football the rest of the day and relax. Tomorrow, it was back to business.

FIFTEEN

When
I woke up the next day my first thought of was Diane. Few women had the capacity to take my breath away and now I’d met two in a row. She had her flaws, but we could work on those. My second thought was one of guilt and I questioned what I was doing when there was still heavy lifting to be done.

I still had to find Karen’s killer and find a way to protect Cassie from her soon to be ex-employers. After a nice little distraction, I had to get things going again and stop wasting time. My first order of business was a call to Tony and he was pleased to learn I’d gotten laid. I’m not the kind of guy who brags about his sexual conquests, but I hoped by telling him he might stop riding my ass about it. He was back in Boston and said that Cassie was nervous when he left, but she understood.

I called my house in Maine and she picked up the phone on the first ring.

“When are you coming up?” she asked.

“Either tomorrow or Wednesday, depending on my schedule. You have my cell number; call me if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

I could hear the disappointment in her voice. I hated to leave her like that but I had no choice. I couldn’t think of anyone I could send up there to baby-sit her without a long drawn out explanation. I could probably get Uncle Sal to send another one of his guys but at the moment I required someone I knew and could absolutely trust to do this right.

I wanted to go to the gym but because of my shoulder, decided it would be best to rest it. I could survive without my daily dosage of MILFs. I’d already gotten a hell of workout on Saturday night anyway. I wondered how long I should wait before I called Diane. I was never really all that good at the dating game thing with all the unwritten rules.

Maybe after lunch I’d try to catch her at LaValle’s Lowell office. I figured with the election coming up in a few weeks, she’d be busy as hell and probably wouldn’t be ready for another romp anytime soon. Part of me hoped I was wrong. On the other hand, it very well might have been a one-night stand. I’ve had few of those in my life and didn’t really like them. They were cold and impersonal, though I would never admit that to another guy in the interest of preserving the tough guy image. There may come a day when I could drop the macho veneer I put up, but I wasn’t ready to abandon it just yet.

Back to the task at hand, today was a day I had hoped to avoid. In order to identify Karen’s sixth client I had to talk to her family and see what they knew. I sincerely doubted her mother knew what she had been doing on the side but perhaps her younger sister did.

I drove over to Mrs. Pommer’s house in Chelmsford, a little brick three-bedroom ranch built in the seventies. Her lawn was an immaculate autumn fading emerald green with a cast iron birdbath set off in a little garden to the side. Most of the foliage had fallen from her trees but there wasn’t a stray leaf in sight.

I rang the bell and Mrs. Pommer came to the door, looking better than she had at Karen’s funeral. The color had returned to her face. She was an attractive woman who had continued to take good care of herself well into middle age. I wasn’t aware of her dating habits but she certainly could have had men lining up if she so desired.

“Ronan,” she exclaimed followed by a big hug.

It was a good thing my ribs were feeling better because she squeezed me as tight as a woman her size could.

“Come in please. What brings you out this way?”

“We need to talk about Karen.”

“Certainly.”

She led me down the hallway and into the kitchen. It was a very odd feeling being in the house where Karen had grown up. She and Sara’s pictures from grammar school age to most recent lined the hallway. Karen’s face staring back at me in the photos brought back the guilty feelings over my tryst with Diane, even though I’d technically done nothing wrong.

“Would you like some coffee?” she asked.

“Sure, that would be great.”

She took a bag of coffee from the freezer and began to grind the beans.

“Have you made any progress?”

“Actually, I have.”

She stopped and looked at me. In the late morning light, I could see the resemblance to Karen in her face.

“Anything…” She was searching for the right words.

“No, I haven’t found out who did it yet, if that was your question.”

She nodded and finished setting up the coffee. She flicked the on button and small black drips gurgled into the glass canister. I was having a hard time summoning the courage to really go into what we needed to talk about. Telling a woman her dead daughter had worked as an escort was not high on my list of life experiences I wanted to have.

“Have you been getting Karen’s mail?” I asked.

“Yes, mostly just a few bills. I hadn’t had a chance to go through everything yet. Why?”

“How about a bank statement?”

“Possibly, let me look.”

She exited the kitchen and returned in a few short seconds with a pile of mail. She sorted through it and found an unopened envelope from the Lowell Five. She held it up for me to see.

“Here it is. What’s so important?”

“Why don’t you open it for me.”

She nodded, ripped open the envelope and unfolded the statement. She turned a bit white and dropped the statement on the table. I reached over and picked it up. It was exactly as I’d seen at the apartment. Karen had a checking balance of thirty-two thousand dollars and change.

“That must be an error,” she said. “Karen never had that kind of money.”

“I wouldn’t have thought so either.”

“I’ll have to call the bank and let them know.”

“It’s not a mistake.”

“What? How do you know?”

“Mrs. Pommer…”

She cut me off. “Please, Ronan, call me Beverly. Mrs. Pommer makes me sound so old.”

For some reason, it made me uncomfortable but I respected her request.

“Okay, Beverly. Do you know what Karen was doing for work?”

“She worked at that bar downtown, what was it called?”

“Max’s Blue Room.”

“Yes, Max’s. She said your band played there too.”

She feared the worst; I could see it in her eyes.

“Please don’t tell me she was dealing drugs from there.”

“No, this is a really hard thing for me to tell you. It was hard for me to deal with too but I’ve confirmed it.”

She took my hand and held it tight.

“It was something illegal?”

“Karen was working as an escort.”

It didn’t register. I may as well have just said coat check girl or cashier.

“I don’t understand.”

“She got paid to date men.”

She put her hand over her mouth in horror.

“You mean, like a prostitute? Are you saying my daughter was a whore?”

I didn’t answer. What was I going to say?

“You must be mistaken. Maybe she saved that money when she was in the Navy.”

“I visited the agency she worked for and talked to her clients.”

She stood up and started to pace the kitchen. The tears were about to flow.

“I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but I knew when you saw the money in her account you’d start asking questions.”

“I taught her better than that. If she needed money, I could have…”

She didn’t finish the sentence. The crying started. I stood and hugged her for a good five minutes before she regained composure.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” It felt good hearing that from her, even if it wasn’t in the context I wanted.

“Do you think Sara knows?” I asked.

“They were very close.”

“Is she at school? I really need to talk to her.”

“Does she really have to know, I mean if she doesn’t already?”

“I have information that the list of clients the agency gave me is short a name. I’m hoping maybe she can provide the name or at least a clue as to the man’s identity. It might help me find out who killed her.”

“They were very close and might have talked about it. I can show you a copy of her class schedule.”

“That would be helpful.”

“What should I do with this money? I don’t really want it after what you’ve told me. Maybe I should pay you for your time and trouble.”

“I don’t need it, Beverly. Why don’t you think about maybe donating it to charity or use it for Sara’s tuition?”

She nodded and began to cry some more. It was a good half-hour before I left. I’d just given her a much harder burden to bear regarding her daughter’s death.

****

Being a business major meant all of Sara’s classes were held primarily on the older North Campus. The entire campus had once been Lowell Technical College before it merged with Lowell State University back in the seventies. Its most recognizable feature is the working nuclear reactor that overlooks the river off the boulevard.

I parked in a lot off University Avenue and fed the meter for the maximum two hours. Sara had a one o’clock class in Southwick Hall so I waited outside for her on a park bench. The temperature had started to drop and I zipped up my leather jacket to protect me from the wind whipping up off the river. Before too long the first snowfall of the season would be here and I was looking forward to it. Since I didn’t have to deal with a commute, it could snow all it wanted as long as my refrigerator was full and I had power and heat.

All around me the students buzzed from class to class, paying little attention to the thug-looking guy sitting on their campus. Fifteen years ago that had been me living the best days of my life. I had little to no responsibility, no real worries, plenty of cold beer and a steady stream of drunk willing coeds. Sure…and the reality was closer to bad food, cheap beer and some horrible sex. Was my life better now? Probably, though recent circumstances certainly didn’t make it feel that way.

I had been waiting for about ten minutes when Sara exited Southwick with some friends. I stood up and waved. She said something to her friends and jogged across the street. To my surprise, she gave me a big hug.

“What are you doing here, Ronan?”

“I am an alumnus.”

“And you just happened to be outside the hall where I had class?”

“Well, I needed to talk to you.”

“About Karen?”

“Yeah.”

Her face scrunched up, almost like she had an idea what I was going to ask her. I immediately knew that she was aware of her sister’s side gig.

“This isn’t a good time. I have class in five minutes. Can I call you?”

“No, you can’t. I have a copy of your schedule and your next class isn’t for two hours.”

She looked at the cracks on the sidewalk trying to think of another excuse. It never came.

“Sara, I know Karen worked for an escort service. I need your help identifying one of her clients.”

Quickly she looked up, her blue eyes big and fearful.

“What? I don’t know anything about that.”

“Bullshit.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and started to shiver, but it wasn’t the cold. She was afraid of something and I suspected it had to do with the information I needed.

“Why don’t we go someplace and get a cup of coffee?” I offered.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“How about a coke?”

“Maybe hot chocolate.”

I put my hand on her lower back and we walked across campus to what used to be called Astro’s Sub Shop. They had a new name but it would always be Astro’s to me. She didn’t say a word the entire way.

I opened the crappy wood-framed residential door for her and we went in. Other than the prices, the place was exactly how I remembered it. The same crappy pool table, same KISS pinball machine and same stained gold vinyl floor with tube steel tables and chairs.

Students overran the place like rodents on a rotten piece of cheese, which was also a fitting description of the food served there. I never cared for it but the beer was cheap so I spent a lot of time there between classes. I was shocked that the health department had never closed them down while I was a student.

I ordered a coffee and a hot chocolate from the crusty old woman working the counter and looked for a seat. There weren’t any. I went over to a group of students with no apparent food or drink and their books spread all over the table and glared at them. They didn’t move. A geeky looking kid with long stringy hair and wearing a faded black World Wrestling Entertainment T-shirt looked up at me and sneered.

“What’s your problem, man?”

“You guys eating or drinking?”

He looked at his buddies and they all shrugged.

“No, what’s it to you?”

I leaned over and looked him in the face.

“I need this table.”

They didn’t say a word and no one moved. I got the distinct impression they weren’t intimidated in the least.