Murder in Death's Door County (20 page)

“I’ll come to get you at ten, okay?”

“I look forward to that and our real
date very much.”

“Good night, Annie.” He kissed my
forehead. “I’m sorry this last week has been kind of tough on you.”

“Thanks. Do you think we’ll ever find
Marcos?”

“That is the sixty-four thousand dollar
question, isn’t it?”

I smiled at him, and looked down, “Good
night, Donovan.”

“Don’t stay up too late with your
buddies.”

I turned and walked back to the wine
shop. Halfway there, I turned back around to wink and smile at Donovan.

“You’re killin’ me, Annie Malone!” I
heard him cry as I continued to walk away. I tried to put a little sway in my
hips. What am I doing? I thought as I reached the door. It didn’t even hit me
until much later that night, I never even asked him why he showed up at the wine
shop.

P
ROMPTLY AT NOON, THE
WILLIAMS’
doorbell rang. I
had made sure to be ready before Donovan could uninvite me. I knew he was worried
about increasing my involvement, but I also knew that he needed my help with
what Marcos had told me about Tina Delvecchio.

He kept his face very stern as he
greeted me, which only made him look hotter. I smiled.

“Um, Donovan, I have an idea.”

He looked at my lips, and said, “So do
I.” Oh my.

“I thought you didn’t want to do
anything like that right now?” I teased.

“You’re right, you’re right. There will
be time enough for that later.” My oh my. Discreetly, I fanned my face a bit.

I locked the door after us and we
promptly left.

Rain and leaves came down in sheets. The
wind blew around us as we ran for the car.

Once we got to his car, he asked me what
my idea was. I told him about the harassment Marcos had gotten from the cops,
and Tina Delvecchio’s part in the drama.

“Oh, yeah, I remember reading something
about that in the file. Do you think she’s worth talking to?” A thrill shot
through me that he valued my opinion.

“Well, it isn’t so much what he told me
that happened, per se. But when I suggested interviewing her for the book, he
went nuts!”

His eyes narrowed, “Did you just
remember this now?”

“Hey, it has been a rough couple of
days. Anyway, when I brought up interviewing her, to get the full story on
Marcos and his family, he almost came through the phone.”

A shiver went through me. The enormity
of the danger I was in, struck me. Until we found Marcos, I felt like I was in
great danger.

“Where does she live anyway?”

“Near the docks in Sturgeon Bay.”

As we headed down Highway 42, I started
to relax again. I felt like everything might be all right, after all.

I gave Donovan the address once we got close
to Sturgeon Bay. He found the house without a problem.

She seemed to live in a rundown
neighborhood. The grey day only made the neighborhood look more dismal. An
empty lot near her house was covered in weeds and littered with beer bottles. I
thought I even saw a syringe on the ground. The duplex where she lived had clearly
seen better days. The brown trim needed a fresh coat of paint, and the mustard
yellow siding could have used a good power-washing. I sniffed the air. It
smelled like someone had something burning nearby. But not that good kind of
autumnal, fireplace burning. It smelled more like that bad kind of falling
asleep smoking on a mattress kind of burning. I didn’t see a burned out, soggy
mattress in any of the front yards, but I would lay money on there being a
recently-doused mattress fire in one of the backyards.

“When we get to her house, let me do the
talking, okay?” Donovan said.

“Why? I know the story that Marcos told
me, you don’t. You only know what I told you.” He ran his fingers through his
hair.

“Are you always this difficult?”

“Only when I think I’m right.” I gave
him what I hoped was a winning smile.

“All right. I’ll do most of the talking,
but you can jump in,” he said as he pressed the doorbell. No answer. No
footsteps. No signs of life.

He pressed the doorbell. Still no
response. The roof overhang offered little protection from the rain. We were
both rapidly becoming soaked.

Then he knocked on the door really
loudly.

We heard faint footsteps. “I’m comin’, I’m
comin’. Hold on to your shorts,” sounded a raspy voice on the other side of the
door.

The door flew open, almost hitting me in
the nose. I stepped back reflexively.

“Yeah, what do ya want?” Tina Delvecchio
had not worn well with age. Years of alcohol abuse, cigarettes, and possible
drug usage had not treated her well. She looked about 65, but I guessed her age
was more like 42, based on the timeline Marcos had given me. The few teeth she
had left were hanging on for their little, yellow lives. Her limp grey hair
hung around her face, which looked sallow and puffy. Her bloodshot eyes were
more red than brown. She wore a pink-striped housecoat, with mysterious
stains in various places. And, her fuzzy slippers looked like they may have
started out as white, but had become suspiciously yellow over time. She looked
like a Halloween costume, but I don’t think her look could be duplicated. The
cigarette dangling from her mouth, as she talked, only added to her dubious
charms.

Donovan cleared his throat, “Are you
Tina Delvecchio? We need to talk to you about Marcos Landrostassis.”

“That’s me. What’s it to you, anyways?”

“He’s missing, and we have reason to
believe he is connected to certain activities.”

“Oh, really? Humpf, that guy really gets
around,” she cackled. “I thought he was curtailing his activities. He really
got into a lot of trouble when he tried to steal that dog.”

“Actually, he’s involved in something a
lot worse than dognapping.”

“My, oh my. That Marcos sure could get
himself in a pickle.” She cackled again. She was clearly on something.

“I was wondering about his actions
during your time as his tenant,” I chimed in. “What happened to Ray Harris?”

“You want to begin at the beginning, do
you? All right, you might as well come on in.”

Donovan whispered, “Good job.”

She lived in the bottom half of the
duplex. Her apartment looked like it came straight off the show about hoarders.
Well, maybe that’s a little harsh. Her place could have been on a show called
Hoarders Lite. Miscellaneous garbage littered the floor. Tina’s dog was eating
the cat’s litter box. Oh my gosh, I had to cover my nose discreetly with my
hand.

“Steady, Annie,” Donovan said, out of
the corner of his mouth. “So, Ms. Delvecchio, when did you last see Marcos?”

“Lemme think… the bank took over that
place back in 2008 and kicked us all out.”

“Us all? Who do you mean?”

“Myself and the Landrostassis family.”

“Oh right. Do you know where Marcos and Diana
went to live after that happened?”

“She went to live with her parents
somewhere in Illinois. He went to jail for the dognapping.”

“Perhaps we should explain ourselves a
little better. Miss Malone here,” Donovan gestured to me. “She was hired to
ghostwrite a story for Marcos to prove his innocence because he was convinced
the cops were in collusion with the bank against him.”

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing. Whatever
that fool told you is wrong. I would have done anything for him.”

What was she talking about? Did she mean
Marcos? As she spoke, I noticed a picture on her wall of a vibrant, gorgeous
blonde on the arm of a handsome man. Discreetly, I poked Donovan and pointed to
the picture. His mouth almost dropped open, but he kept his cool. I assumed
that was Tina when times were better.

“Ms. Delvecchio, what happened the night
Ray Harris was stabbed?” I needed to find out more about Marcos. The minute I
had started working on this project, I had felt uneasy. Now, Marcos was
missing, and my editor was dead. I sensed that Tina knew more than she let on.

“Ray Harris? I don’t anybody by that
name. What are you talking about?” She gave me the stink eye. I cringed a
little. Then I saw a cockroach crawling across an empty pizza box on her coffee
table, and I almost threw up.

Donovan gave me a warning look.

He took over the questioning again. “When
you lived as Mr. Landrostassis’ tenant, do you remember any late night visits
from anyone associated with Dmitri Tasios?”

I couldn’t hide my shock. Dmitri Tasios?
Everyone knew that name. Dmitri Tasios headed up the Greek version of the mob.
He was elusive, though, and stayed just out of the clutches of the law. So, was
Marcos associated with Dmitri Tasios? Oh my gosh.

“Nope, and even if I did, do you think I’d
tell you?” She cackled again, then fell into a stupor. We waited several
minutes while she sat there with her mouth open. Her eyes didn’t even blink.
Finally, we got up, convinced our interview was over, when she snapped out of,
stood up, and started shouting at us in Italian.

As she led us to the door, she whispered
in my ear, “Come back tomorrow afternoon without the copper.”

She started shouting in Italian again.
We got out of there, fast.

The rain had died down a little, but the
leaves were still falling en masse. Donovan and I got in his car and peeled out
of there.

“What did she say to you as we were
leaving?”

“She knew you were a cop. She said she
wanted to talk to me without you there tomorrow afternoon.”

“Dammit. I thought she was playing up
the crazy bit a little too much.”

“So, should I go?”

“Hell yes. Are you scared to go without
me?”

“No, not really. She’s really odd, but I
think she’s got something important to tell me. Marcos got so upset when I just
mentioned interviewing her. Do you think she knows where he is?”

“I would guess not. But what would you
think if I told you that was Marcos in that picture?”

“I would think, ‘what the what’! Are you
sure?”

“Positive. In the only picture I’ve seen
of Marcos, he looked a little older, but the basic features are the same.”

“But he claimed this undying love for
his Diana! What gives?”

“Yeah, this case is like an onion, that’s
for sure.”

“Do you know what she was saying in
Italian?”

“Nope, but if I had to guess, I would
say gibberish.”

“I thought I was going to toss my
cookies in her apartment.”

“Yeah, I know. You turned as white as
sheet.”

As we made our way up the highway, I
remembered that I needed to meet Lizzy at the Lighthouse. I chewed on my lip
wondering how I could broach the subject with Donovan. He was going right past
the Lighthouse, he could easily drop me off. But if he knew we were going to
interview someone without him, he wouldn’t like it. We were going either way,
but I didn’t want to face a lot of awkward questions from him.

I decided to sidestep the truth a bit, “Kitty
called me this morning and said that I had left a couple of things behind when
I picked up my stuff yesterday. Would you mind if we stop at the Lighthouse?”

“Sure. Say, since it’s about eleven
thirty, do you want to grab some lunch?”

“I would really enjoy that.”

When we got to the Lighthouse, we were
immediately seated. It turned out that Cindy was our server. With borderline
civility, Cindy took our drink orders and slapped down our menus. Donovan
ordered iced tea and I got a diet soda.

“What’s up with her?” Donovan asked,
jerking his thumb towards the kitchen door that Cindy went through.

“All I know is Lizzy accidentally
spilled coffee on her and she’s never gotten over it,” I shrugged. I shut the
menu, “I know what I want.”

“What are you having?”

“A big, juicy hamburger. With fries.”

“Awesome. You like to eat.”

“Of course I like to eat. I like meat,
but I do like salads too. I just know that the hamburgers here are fantastic.”

“You sold me. I’ll have a burger and
fries, too.” And with that, Donovan shut his menu.

Cindy reappeared seconds later with our
drinks. She gave us each a hostile sneer.

“What do you want?” she grumbled.

I stared in shock at my drink, unsure of
what to do. I saw something in my soda that I did not expect to see. I didn’t
even hear Donovan order his lunch.

“Annie? Annie, it’s your turn.”

“My turn? I need to order, don’t I?”
Cindy took my order, but she certainly didn’t smile about it.

Lowering my voice to a whisper, I
grabbed Donovan’s arm, and said, “There is a red hair in my soda!”

“A red hair? We should probably let
Cindy know, she can get you a new soda.”