Bourbon Creme Killer: Book 9 in The INNcredibly Sweet Series Read online

  “And then I say to the guy, if the blonde in the bar had a dog, did that mean she was available?” and he dissolved into another gale of fake laughter. He pressed a button on a fob and the passenger door of the expensive Italian sports car popped open. Pretending to kiss Izzy deeply, he lowered her into the car and shut the door behind her, saying, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, there’s lots more where that came from.”

  The car’s windows were heavily tinted, so any neighbors who happened to be peering out from between their blinds at the spectacle, wouldn’t see that Izzy Gilmore was lying unconscious in the passenger seat.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Jeanette Hammond is involved with the mob?” Missy whispered, wide-eyed, as she sat across the table from Chas at a Japanese fusion restaurant in downtown Champaign.

  “I don’t know if she is or not, but it certainly seems like the men she dates may be,” Chas replied quietly.

  They were seated in a remote corner of the restaurant, at the detective’s request, where they could talk without being overheard.

  “What makes you think that Stanton and Tommy are involved in the mob?”

  “For one thing, on paper, Stanton is a very middle of the road accountant, which makes it very strange that he lives in an exclusive neighborhood, travels the globe, and owns a lake house, a boat, and plenty of other expensive luxury items. He also came from Chicago, and has some clients who seem shady to say the least,” Chas explained.

  “Shady? Shady how?” Missy asked, popping a piece of sushi in her mouth.

  “Shady like a dry cleaner who cleared fourteen million in profits last year alone.”

  “Sounds like they’re laundering something more than dirty shirts,” Missy quipped, raising an eyebrow.

  “Exactly,” Chas nodded, splitting open an edamame pod and sucking out the contents.

  “What about Tommy?”

  “He’s Italian, he’s dating a woman who may be associated with someone in the mob, and he’s been in jail. Two plus two generally makes four,” the detective shrugged.

  Missy dropped her chopsticks in astonishment. “Chas Beckett, that’s profiling,” she accused, her mouth hanging open.

  “I’m not saying he’s a criminal, or that he’s involved in anything even remotely illegal, it’s just that he has interesting connections that should probably be investigated.”

  She sighed deeply and picked up her chopsticks again. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been suspicious of him too. How did you find out about all of this?” she asked, feeling guilty.

  “Kel filled me in when we figured out that you might be in grave danger, and I did some investigating of my own.”

  “I’m really sorry that I didn’t tell you what we were up to. I just thought we’d find Jeanette, get Scott back home to his mother, and everyone would be happy. I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into,” Missy admitted, reaching for her husband’s hand.

  “Sweetie, you’re smart, and brave, and you always want to go the extra mile for the people you love, and I love that about you, but you’re going to have to learn to trust me with this stuff. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you,” Chas said softly, bringing her hand to his lips, and letting them linger there for a moment.

  “I’m sorry,” Missy whispered, moving into his embrace.

  “I know,” her husband held her and kissed the top of her head.

  She sat back after a moment, gazing into his eyes. “What do we do now?”

  “Now, we finish our dinner, then we’re going to go enjoy the hot tub at the hotel, and in the morning, we’ll pay Tommy and Stanton another visit.”

  ***

  Tommy Mancino wiped his hands on a shop towel, and dropped it onto the counter, shaking his head when he saw Missy and Chas approaching.

  “Geez lady, are you going to stalk me forever now?” he said with a smile.

  “I’m sorry to bother you again, Mr. Mancino, but I wanted to introduce you to my husband, Chas. Do you have a minute to talk?”

  Tommy eyed Chas thoughtfully. “You’re a cop. Vice or homicide?” he asked, not smiling, but not hostile either.

  “Homicide.”

  “You ain’t local,” the mechanic observed.

  “Nope,” Chas agreed easily.

  “Whaddya want with me?”

  “I want to talk about Jeanette Hammond. Tell me what happened the last time you saw her.”

  Tommy looked from Chas to Missy and back again, then over at Sal, who was watching them curiously from the other side of the auto bay.

  “Let’s go into the office for a minute,” Mancino suggested.

  Chas nodded and he and Missy followed the mechanic inside.

  “First of all, I don’t know where she is or what happened to her. For all I know, she could be hanging out in one of Vincenzo’s houses overseas,” he shrugged.

  “You know Vincenzo?”

  “I know OF him. We don’t exactly travel in the same circles,” Tommy replied dryly.

  “When’s the last time you saw Jeanette?”

  “She and her friend dropped her car off her so that I could work on it. She gave me the keys, I told her I’d call her when it was ready, and that was it.”

  “Her friend? What friend?”

  “The redhead, the realtor chick.”

  “Rhonda,” Missy said softly.

  “Yeah, Ronnie. She and Jeanie work together, they’re pretty tight.”

  “What do you know about Rhonda?” Chas asked.

  “Not much. Nice chick. I went out with her once, there was just nothing there, ya know what I mean? She’s got a good job, she’s pretty and all, but she just wasn’t my type.”

  “Sure, it happens,” the detective nodded. “Did Jeanette give you any indication that she might be going out of town, or that she might have to leave her car here for a period of time?”

  “Nope, she just said that she’d pick it up when it was done. The two of them drove off in Ronnie’s car and I haven’t seen either of them since.”

  “Does the name Ricky Raguso mean anything to you?”

  Tommy’s eyes narrowed.

  “Everybody’s heard of the Raccoon, why?”

  “Does he work for Vincenzo?”

  Mancino rolled his eyes and smirked.

  “Raguso works for anybody who’ll pay him. You think he’s got Jeanie?” he asked, suddenly sobering. “Cuz if the Raccoon got her, she ain’t gonna last long. When he gets ’em, they stay got.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Chas said grimly.

  ***

  “See what I mean?” Missy said after they left Sal’s Garage. “Tommy may be a bit rough around the edges, but he doesn’t strike me as being the bad guy.”

  “I have to agree,” Chas nodded. “He didn’t hesitate when he was answering questions, none of his body language indicated that he might be lying, and he didn’t get hostile, even though he knew immediately that I was a detective. I think he’s on the up and up.”

  “Which leaves us with Stanton Vincenzo,” Missy sighed.

  “Exactly.”

  “Are you going to talk to him?”

  “I don’t see that I have any choice, but you’re not going to come along when I do. I don’t want you anywhere around Vincenzo, and I definitely don’t want him to know that you’re a detective’s wife. I’ll drop you off at the hotel, then I’ll stop by to see him.”

  “What can I do in the meantime?”

  “See if you can get in touch with Kel and get some information about Rhonda the realtor. I may want to talk with her as well, to get a better idea of Jeanette’s habits, hangouts, and anything else that might help us reconstruct where she was and what she was doing when she disappeared.”

  “So, you think that Kel and I were right not to go to the police?” Missy asked.

  “I think that you and Kel did a very dangerous thing,” Chas gave her a reproving look. “But, unfortunately, now that it looks like we might be dealing with o
rganized crime, it probably is safer for Jeanette if we don’t involve the local police.”

  They arrived at the hotel, and Chas escorted Missy to the room, checking it out thoroughly before allowing her to enter.

  “Lock the doors, don’t let anyone know that you’re in here, and see what you can find out from Kel,” the detective instructed, kissing his wife at the door.

  “Just come back safe,” she whispered, hugging him tightly before he left.

  “Always,” he winked.

  ***

  “I’m here to see Stanton Vincenzo,” Chas flashed his badge briefly at the receptionist, whose eyes went wide.

  “Is he expecting you?” she asked, doing her job despite being intimidated by the handsome detective in front of her.

  “No, but I believe he’ll want to have this conversation,” Chas replied coolly.

  Vincenzo appeared from the inner sanctum as though by magic.

  “Good afternoon, Officer. What can I help you with?” Stanton asked with a smile. The man was clearly accustomed to showing a polite poker face at a moment’s notice.

  “It’s ‘Detective,’ and I’d like to speak with you about Jeanette Hammond,” Chas stared him down, well aware of the doe-eyed receptionist watching his every move.

  “Let’s go to my office,” Vincenzo led the way, his cheerful demeanor never wavering for a second, at least until they were seated on opposite sides of his desk.

  The accountant studied Chas closely, fingers tented under his chin.

  “You come in here, asking questions in front of the help, and you ain’t even local. Who are you, and what are you doing in my town, asking questions?” Stanton’s eyes narrowed.

  “I’m someone who is looking out for the best interests of Jeanette Hammond, not that that’s any of your business, and I’m thinking you just might know where she is and why she disappeared without bothering to tell anyone,” the detective was entirely undaunted by the mobster’s hostility.

  “I don’t know nothing,” Vincenzo met the detective’s gaze evenly. “I hooked up with her for a while. She was neurotic, didn’t know how to have a relationship, and was married to her work. End of story. I wasn’t thrilled with her after that, I’ll tell ya, but I didn’t make her disappear,” Stanton shrugged.

  “Then who did? Raguso?” Chas persisted, glaring at the accountant.

  “Raguso?” Vincenzo laughed. “Raguso is small-time. He don’t do nothing on his own. If Raguso’s got her, somebody else is paying for it. If you think the Raccoon is involved, you better start looking at her life and finding out who wants her dead, cuz that’s what he does. That’s ALL he does.”

  “Does Tommy Mancino want her dead?”

  “He’d be on the list, I would think. She may have cut him loose, cuz he wasn’t good enough for the likes of her, who knows. The broad couldn’t commit. She could have all kinds of frustrated exes who are out to get her, all I know is I ain’t one of ’em. I got options, if you know what I mean,” he smirked.

  “I’m sure you do,” Chas rolled his eyes.

  ***

  Missy had called the real estate office where Jeanette Hammond worked and had made an appointment to meet with Jeanette’s teammate and friend, Rhonda the next morning. She and Chas sat in the driveway of the vacant mini-mansion, and eventually saw her pull up in the same luxury sedan that she’d been driving when she’d arrived at Jeanette’s house, interrupting Missy and Kel’s search.

  “Hi!” the high-maintenance redhead sang out. “You must be Mindy and Robert. I’m Rhonda, it’s so nice to meet you.”

  Chas shot Missy a look which clearly indicated that she should have told him that she’d used assumed names, and they followed the trail of perfume into the home.

  “Rhonda, I just want to be really up front with you about why we’re here. Jeanette is a friend of mine from high school, and I haven’t heard from her in a couple of weeks… I’m really worried about her, and I know that she’s close with you, she talks about you all the time, so I was hoping that you might know where she is,” Missy confided, placing a hand on Rhonda’s arm.

  “Oh honey, that’s sweet. Why didn’t you just come by my office?” the realtor replied, touching a hand to her hair.

  “Well, I thought that maybe… if it was something embarrassing, like that she’d run off with a guy or something, that it’d be easier, and kinder, to talk about it where no one could overhear,” Missy lied beautifully.

  “Well, aren’t you considerate,” Rhonda smiled. “Honestly, I don’t know what to make of this whole thing,” she shook her head. “She’s gone away to be by herself every once in a while, but never for this length of time. There were appointments that she had scheduled with clients, and the rest of us on the team had to cover for her, which is fine, but it’s just not like her to neglect her work like that.”

  “Do you know where she might be, or who she might be with?” Chas asked.

  “I wish I knew. The only person that I’m worried about is a guy named Tommy Mancino. She dated him occasionally, and…” she leaned in close, despite the fact that they were alone. “He’s an ex-convict,” she whispered and pressed her lips together in disapproval.

  “Do you know Tommy?” Missy asked.

  “Well, you know…” Rhonda waved a hand airily. “Everyone kinda knows everyone else in this town. He has quite the reputation with the ladies,” she raised her eyebrows and nodded knowingly.

  “But you don’t think he’d hurt Jeanie, do you?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I hope not, but I just don’t know.”

  “Have you ever heard of Ricky Raguso?”

  “Nope, but the name sounds delicious,” Rhonda chuckled.

  “Yeah, it kinda does,” Missy tried not to cringe. “Do you know some of the places where Jeanie used to hang out? Could there be someone who might have seen her, or might know where she went?”

  “I doubt it,” Rhonda shook her head. “Jeanette was a very private person, as you know. She never went out alone, and whenever she did go out, I was with her. I’ve asked at all the places we used to go to together, and no one has seen or heard from her.”

  “Has anyone called the police?”

  “Well, I did the other day, because I went over to check on her house, and there was a strange car parked in the driveway,” Rhonda confided.

  “Did the police get any leads?” Chas asked.

  “Not that I know of. They just said that the car was a rental, but they didn’t tell me anything else.”

  Missy tried again. “Did you go inside at all?”

  “Yep, Jeanie gave me a key, so that if she ever needed anything done while she was traveling or whatever, I’d be able to take care of it for her. I didn’t see anything broken or missing. Nothing looked out of place.”

  “I wonder where her son is.” Missy murmured.

  “My guess would be that he’s with her. Maybe she just took him on a nice long summer vacation.”

  “Does she tend to be impulsive like that?” Chas broke in again.

  “Occasionally. Jeanie is a hard egg to crack, you never know what’s going on in that head of hers.”

  “That’s Jeanie all right,” Missy nodded, remembering to keep up the ruse. “Well, thank you, Rhonda, I hope it wasn’t too much of an intrusion for you to meet us out here.”

  “Not at all,” the realtor smiled. “Any friend of Jeanie’s is a friend of mine.”

  ***

  “Well, that seemed like a colossal waste of time,” Missy lamented when they got back into Chas’s rental car and watched Rhonda drive away with a manicured wave.

  “Maybe,” Chas replied, distracted.

  “Rhonda and Stanton think that Tommy is the bad guy, Tommy thinks Stanton is the bad guy, and Tommy and Stanton both think that Ricky Raguso is scum. What are we going to do?” Missy sighed.

  “The only thing that I can think of is to try to find Ricky Raguso.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Joyce Rutled
ge unlocked the door to the bookstore and candle shop, humming to herself. Spencer had joined her for ribs, beans, potato salad, cornbread, and her sour cream chocolate cake last night. After dinner she’d popped a silly comedy DVD in, and they’d both enjoyed some much-needed laughter. He’d been a perfect gentleman, and hadn’t even attempted to hold her hand before he left, which was unfortunate, but Joyce was hopeful that the shy Marine might just open up eventually.

  She flipped on all the lights, using the main breaker in the office, and made coffee, enjoying the gurgling sounds which promised that the rich, dark brew was soon on its way. While she was waiting for her coffee, the chimes over the door sounded, which was odd at this early hour. They weren’t supposed to open for another hour and a half, Joyce just preferred to arrive early to make certain that everything was ready to go when customers started showing up.

  She made her way to the front, calling out, “Hello?” with no response.

  “Hmm… that’s weird,” she muttered to herself, her eyes darting here and there, looking for an early bird in the aisles of books and candles.

  Walking over to the front door, she saw a small brown box. Apparently a delivery had been made and the service hadn’t waited around for a signature. She picked up the box and set it on the counter, pulling open a drawer and finding a box cutter to open the package. It was addressed to Echo, but since Echo had asked her to open and process all deliveries while she was gone, she slit open the seams, resheathed and set the box cutter back in the drawer. She folded the flaps back and screamed, then ran for the bathroom and deposited her breakfast in the nearest stall.

  After she pulled herself together, rinsing out her mouth, washing her face, and pouring a strong cup of coffee with shaking hands, Joyce dialed 911. Officer Emil Bergen arrived ten minutes later, and found the shaken manager sitting on a bench in the fiction section, trembling. The sign on the door to both shops still said “Closed,” and probably would for the remainder of the day at least.

  She told the officer what had happened, and he took notes, then put the entire box into a cooler, taking it into evidence.