Shay O'Hanlon Caper 04 - Chip Off the Ice Block Murder (25 page)

“Easy,” JT said. “I’m not moving, see?” She held her arms up higher. For a second I was afraid her jacket would ride up enough to expose the gun in the holster at her side. If Roy saw that, all bets would be off.

Thankfully Roy turned his attention and his weapon back to my dad and me. “You two are nothing but a huge pain in my butt. It’s time to get rid of that pain.”

The door opened. Roy spun around as Lisa Vecoli stepped in. The smile on her lips rapidly faded as she saw what was pointed at her.

With Roy distracted, Eddy scrambled on top of the bed with surprising agility and grabbed the bedpan. Tootsie Rolls flew as she hefted it over her head and leaped off the bed, aiming for Roy. The pan nailed him square in the back. Eddy’s momentum knocked him off balance and they both landed in a heap at Lisa’s feet.

JT and I pounced on Roy like hungry cheetahs after a dry spell. I held him down and JT slammed cuffs on his wrists.

Coop pulled Eddy to her feet and she looked derisively down her nose at Roy. “Teach you to mess with my family.”

Astonishment and confusion battled for dominance on Lisa’s face. She said, “Sorry to crash your S&M party.”

Visit number four from the cops included a drop-in by St. Paul’s Sergeant DeSilvero, who was almost apologetic. He informed us that he’d keep us abreast of the progress on the case, and he actually told my father he wished him a speedy recovery. DeSilvero might have been an asshole on the outside, but I suspected inside might be another story entirely.

This time one uniform was left behind, standing guard outside my dad’s door, just in case. It was too little too late by then, but I suppose they felt they needed to cover their butts. It had taken almost two hours to get everyone’s statements after Roy was led away mumbling about Tootsie Rolls and broken dreams.

It was sad.

We reconvened in my dad’s room, excited chatter flowing freely. I hopped back onto the foot of my dad’s bed, and JT leaned against the window ledge, looking exhausted. Coop had given up the recliner for Eddy. He sat on a padded folding chair, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Lisa propped herself up against the wall next to the door, mostly being quiet, taking in what was being said.

I hoped after all this she’d come clean. In fact, maybe it was time to force the issue. “So, Lisa,” I said, and she glanced my way. “Which department do you work for?”

The blank look on her face didn’t fade.

I said, “You have to know by now my dad didn’t have anything to do with Schuler.”

Now she frowned. “Of course I know that.”

“So cough it up. You’re with St. Paul, right?”

“St. Paul? Shay, what are you talking about?”

“Come on.” I laughed incredulously. “I was onto you by Monday. I know you were hoping to find my father by getting close to me. You’re smooth. I’ll give you that.”

“What? No. I was trying to help.” Now Lisa was starting to get agitated. Her eyes flashed and the muscles in her jaw clenched.

My father, Coop, JT, and Eddy warily watched our exchange.

“You’re a cop Lisa, just fess up.”

“I am not a cop. Where on earth did you get that idea?”

“You can’t believe I’d fall for a stupid story like your mom died and left you instructions to find my dad and give him a stupid coin. What do you take me for?”

Now Lisa was really getting revved up. She stepped close, leaned into my face.
Bring it on, baby.
Maybe it was time to duke it out. My fists were itching to do some damage to something.

“I do a good deed and this is the thanks I get?”

“If you weren’t a liar,” I shot back and poked her in shoulder.

She poked me right back, raised her voice. “I’m not a liar and you’re nuts.”

Steam started pouring from my ears. I slid off the bed to my feet and gave her a shove.

She gave me a withering glare and shoved back.

I grabbed her leather jacket in one hand and cocked my other arm back, about to pop her when my dad bellowed, “Girls! Knock it off. Now!”

After a few long seconds I let go of her jacket.

Emotion flickered across Lisa’s face, the anger melting away, replaced with an almost perplexed expression. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her wide eyes locked on mine. “I don’t know what came over me.”

I held my hands out, palms up, and took a step back. “I’m sorry too.” And I was. I felt like I’d been taken over by an alien.

“Lisa,” my dad said, “what’s this about a coin?”

She said, “It’s an old nickel.” Lisa broke our gaze and rummaged around her pants pocket. She handed the item in question over to my dad.

He flipped it over in his palm and stared at it for a few long heartbeats. “Where … where did you get this?” He wrapped his fingers slowly around the nickel.

Lisa took a shuddery breath. “It was my mom’s. She recently passed away. She told me to find Pete O’Hanlon—you, maybe—and give it to him. I don’t even know if you’re the right person.”

JT, Coop, Eddy, and I silently watched the interchange.

My dad asked softly, “What was your mom’s name?”

“Connie Vecoli.”

“She have a maiden name?”

“Yeah. Rockwell.”

“When did she get married?”

“When did she—” Lisa shook her head. “I don’t know. My dad bailed when I was little. She never talked much about it. I don’t remember a whole lot about him. I kind of got the feeling they hooked up because he got her pregnant.”

My dad stared at Lisa for a long moment. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

“I think,” my dad said, his face more serious than I’d ever seen it, “we might have a situation.”

All of us stared at him, waiting for the punch line.

“Lisa,” he said in a gentle tone, the same tone he used when he needed to tell me something I didn’t want to hear. “I think … I think you might be my daughter.”

It felt like all the air was sucked out of the room in one whoosh.

I stared at Lisa with my mouth hanging open, my eyebrows buried in my hairline. I surveyed her face, her eyes.

She had blond hair, I had black.

She was taller than I was, but just as angular.

She had a temper. A serious temper.

A temper much like mine?

Holy crap on a cracker. I had a sister.

The End

About the Author

Photo © April McGuire

Jessie Chandler is a board member-at-large of the Midwest chapter of Mystery Writers of America and a member of Sisters in Crime. In her spare time, Chandler sells unique, artsy T-shirts and other assorted trinkets to unsuspecting conference and festival goers. She is a former police officer and resides in Minneapolis. Visit her online at JessieChandler.com.