Smoked (The Alex Harris Mystery Series) Page 21

  I backed my car up, pulled into my driveway then walked across the road and up their brick path. I rang the bell and Mrs. Ianoti answered after a few seconds.

  “Alex. How are you? Come on in.”

  Ann Ianoti had about fifteen years on me. She and her husband had been living in the neighborhood for a long time and if anyone knew what was going on around here it would be her. Why hadn’t I questioned my neighbors before? And had John talked to them?

  “I haven’t seen you since the night Maria died. What’s going on there? John came by and talked to Steve and me, in an official capacity, but of course he didn’t fill us in on all the details. Can I get you something?”

  I followed Ann into the kitchen where she filled one of those electric tea kettles with water and turned it on.

  “So what brings you here,” she asked. “I hear you’re helping the daughter find the killer before they put Sergei away.”

  “How did you—”

  “Word gets around. Besides, I saw Ellery last week and she told me she asked you to help. You have quite the reputation.” The water boiled and Ann poured some over the Earl Grey tea bag she had dropped in a mug. “Here you go. So tell me what’s going on.”

  We went into a small den off the kitchen and sat on a plush and very comfortable sofa.

  I shook my head. “Ann, I can’t get a handle on this. The way she was killed does away with the need for alibis. And did you hear about Nena—”

  “Connick. The girlfriend. Yes. We all love Sergei, but how Maria put up with him all these years, I don’t know. She was over here, you know.”

  “Who? Maria was over here?”

  Ann shook her head vigorously. “No. The girlfriend. She came by one night. I heard yelling. I told the police all about it, but I guess your husband’s not sharing stuff with you.” She smiled. “A bit of rivalry going on I’ll bet.”

  “Something like that.” I put my mug on the coffee table and turned to Ann. “Nena Connick was over at the Kravec house? When was this?”

  “Oh, gosh, I guess at least a month or more before Maria died. Maybe two. That’s why I didn’t run to the police with this information. It seemed so long ago. I remember it was late. Had to be about ten. Steve was over at our son’s house helping him install a new sound system or something so I was waiting awake catching up on some shows I DVR’d. I heard loud voices and looked out the window. They were standing on the sidewalk, at the end of the walkway leading to the front door. They could have been inside at some point and then Maria walked her out. Anyway, they argued a bit and then the Connick woman turned and crossed the street. I guess her car was parked on this side but further up the road so I couldn’t see it through the window.”

  I thought about this for a few moments. “So how do you know it was Nena? Had you met her before?”

  “Oh, no. And I didn’t know who it was at the time. It was only after she was killed and the papers said she had been having an affair with Sergei that I put two and two together.”

  And didn’t necessarily come up with four, I thought. It could have been anyone.

  “Did you see what she looked like? Did she have big hair?”

  “Big hair?”

  “You know, all teased up,” I said.

  “Oh, right. No, not that I remember. But it was dark and by time I looked out, she was walking crossing the street and then was out of my sight.”

  I thought back to the last time I saw Nena. Her hair had just been washed and it was flat. It could have been Nena out there on the street arguing with Maria.

  “What were they saying? Could you hear any of the conversation?”

  “Not really. I heard the raised voices first and by time I looked out the argument was over and Nena went back to her car. The only thing I heard, and I told the police this as well, was Nena saying something like ‘we love each other.’ That’s it, kind of like a parting shot. Then I heard a car door slam and drive off but it went the other way and never came past my window.”

  I wondered where John and I were when this was going on? Our bedroom is in the front of the house but our den is in the back and with the TV on, chances are we wouldn’t hear raised voices. Yelling and screaming, probably, but some harsh exchanges might not reach to the back of our house.

  I thanked Ann and promised I would keep her informed and then I went back to my car wishing my neighbors had CCTV cameras on their property.

  John still had not come home and the sight of my dark empty house left me with an uneasy feeling. Meme was at bingo with her friends and I didn’t feel like going over to my parents. I needed to talk some things out and I was suddenly famished. There was only one place to go. I pulled out of my drive and headed to my sister’s house.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  “Michael’s helping the kids with their homework. Math.” My sister rolled her eyes. “Come into the kitchen. I’ve got homemade pumpkin soup and some chicken cutlets with carrots and roasted potatoes.”

  “Gee, what time is dinner tomorrow night?” I slumped on one of my sister’s kitchen chairs. Everyone in my family had an eat-in kitchen. It was the place where Sam and I would do our homework as kids while my mom got dinner ready. We also played games and did crafts at the kitchen table. It just seemed to be where a lot of life happened in our family.

  My sister put a bowl of steaming soup in front of me with a couple of biscuits. “Wow, this is good. I can taste the cinnamon and what’s that other thing?” I asked as I spooned in some more.

  “Cardamom. It’s my new thing. I put it in everything, even rice. I love it.” Sam took a brand new jar of it out of her cupboard and put it on the table. “Take this. I buy several jars at once. So. What’s going on? You either solved the case or you found out some more info that you need to sort out.”

  “You know me so well. As it just so happens I stopped by to talk with Ann Ianoti tonight.”

  “Your neighbor across the street?” Sam asked. She placed a plate on the table and sat down beside me.

  I nodded. “Yeah, she told me she heard Mrs. Kravec and Nena Connick arguing one night out on the street a couple months ago.”

  “Where were you?” my sister asked echoing my exact thoughts.

  I shrugged. “Watching TV, I guess. I don’t think it was really loud or lasted very long.

  “Wait a minute. How did your neighbor know who Nena was?”

  “Exactly,” I said. “When I talked with Nena right before she died she admitted driving by the house, especially lately since Sergei wasn’t calling anymore, but she never said she confronted Maria. As a matter of fact, I asked her if she ever talked with Maria and she said I must be crazy to think something like that.”

  “Well, she lied,” my sister said. “Probably didn’t want to admit she was acting like a lovesick teenager.”

  “Maybe.”

  “But you’re not buying it. Maybe it was the lady from the restaurant that went out of business.”

  “That’s what I was thinking, but she told me she never met Maria and I believed her and pretty much scratched her and her husband off my list of possible killers. And besides, Ann said she heard the woman, whoever she was, say something like ‘we love each other.’”

  “I guess the restaurant lady wouldn’t say that, unless Sergei was having an affair with her too. Hey, that might work. Maybe that’s why Maria was disparaging her restaurant on the blog.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I guess it would be too farfetched.”

  As farfetched as it sounded I ran that scenario around in my head while I finished the last bite of chicken. I was grasping at straws and had to consider every possibility. How would Carol Corliss, a vegetarian, ever run into Sergei, a butcher? No, I had too many other theories to work out. I pushed the plate away and helped my sister clean up the kitchen and then she turned to me.

  “Sloth emailed me today. My packets of fake tattoos are ready and he said to stop on by tonight. I ordered some fairy princess ones fo
r Kendall and a pack of pirates for Henry. I can’t wait for the kids to see them. Want to go with me?”

  We snuck out the back door so the kids wouldn’t see us and walked around to the front and got in my car.

  “So here’s another thing that’s bothering me,” I began. “Ann sees this woman standing out on the sidewalk with Maria and it’s after ten. Where’s Sergei?”

  “Inside watching TV?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. If he was there and his wife is outside having it out with someone he would come out, especially if the woman was there telling his wife that they were in love. I know John would.”

  “So would Michael.”

  “Right. I’m thinking he wasn’t home so where was he?”

  “At the shop probably cleaning up all the blood and guts after a day of selling meat.”

  I looked at my sister out of the corner of my eye. “Geesh. What a horrible job. He does keep the shop open a couple nights a week until about eight so he could have been closing up, counting money, cleaning up body parts. What a couple of ghouls we are. Ann said the two women were standing at the end of the walkway leading up to the house. Does that mean Nena was inside first before they exchanged words on the sidewalk? Would Maria let Nena into her house?”

  “Maybe Nena shows up. Has some excuse that she’s a friend of Sergei’s. Maria lets her in. Then Nena tells Maria not only is she Sergei’s friend but also lover. Maria kicks her out and they argue on the street,” my sister said.

  I pulled up in front of the tattoo parlor.

  “I can’t wait to see Michael’s reaction when he sees it. I’m just going to put one on and not say anything like you did with John.”

  “Took him a while to notice so don’t be surprised.” My brother-n-law was a dentist and loved anything dental related. I’m not sure the man would notice a full line of Rockettes standing in his bedroom if he had his nose in a dental journal.

  I started to walk to the front door while Sam went back to her car for her purse.

  I let out a loud gasp and turned and grabbed my sister’s arm. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Come on. You can come back another time.”

  “Alex, let go. What on earth is wrong with you? I want to get my stuff. It’ll only take a minute.”

  “No. No, you don’t.”

  My sister wiggled free from my hold and started for the door. “Oh dear God! Is that—”

  I hung my head. “I tried to keep you from looking but you wouldn’t listen.” I joined Sam at the door and we both stared in awe, through the reception area into the little room behind, watching our mother, with her pants around her knees, getting her tattoo affixed to her butt.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  “I come from a family of perverts. I have a ninety-something-year-old grandfather who was feeling up his girlfriend at his great granddaughter’s First Holy Communion and now a mother who’s letting a strange man put a tattoo on her butt.”

  John laughed. “Maybe one forms a certain bond with their tattoo artist much like they would with their doctor or priest.”

  “Well, he does design and sell rosary beads and I hope she bought a pair on the way out. Poor Sam. She was horrified,” I laughed. “That is not how I want to see my mother, John. And what’s up with putting it on her butt.”

  “I suggest we don’t call your parents tonight. I have a feeling they’ll be busy.”

  “My mother and father playing find the tattoo.” I shook my head. “Meme said she was kind of wild for a time when she was a teenager. Do you think she’s having a midlife crisis or something? Never mind. I can’t think about this anymore. Murder is a far more appealing topic. Why didn’t you tell me Ann saw someone arguing with Maria?”

  “Because nothing ever came of it. She didn’t see a face, didn’t see the car and only heard a few words and probably couldn’t swear to that under oath either.” John went back to his latest Michael Connelly book while I dropped another stitch in the scarf I was making. Clearly I couldn’t talk, think, and knit at the same time.

  “So who do you think it was, then?”

  My ever-patient husband put his book down again and looked over at me. “We asked Ms. Connick if she ever had a confrontation with Maria and she denied it. She admitted to driving by the house a few times, though, so maybe she did stop but didn’t want to tell us because she felt it would make her look bad, which it would. And before you go ringing everyone’s doorbell on this street, we already talked with all the neighbors and no one else heard a thing. Including us.” John smiled and then went back to his book.

  I looked into the small fire burning in our family room fireplace. It had become quite cold and I was glad I found some time to change our bedding over to the winter flannel sheets. We would certainly need them tonight. I had also dug out my flannel PJs, which were currently keeping me nice and toasty. Geesh. Even my mother and her tattoo exuded more sex appeal than I did.

  I returned my thoughts back to the murders. My limited impression of Nena Connick was the woman didn’t seem shy. She had no problem marching into Sergei’s shop and demanding some answers from the man right in front of everyone else. So if she had confronted Mrs. Kravec and already freely admitted to driving by the house, why lie about talking to her? From a police standpoint I guess I could understand a reluctance to tell someone you recently had contact with a murder victim, especially while finding the identity of the killer was front and center in the authorities’ minds. So maybe Nena just omitted that little tidbit from her story to save her a lot of questions and maybe a trip to the big house. But I didn’t think so.

  “I believe her,” I said.

  “Whom do you believe?” John asked. “Want a cup of tea?” I nodded and he went to make us each a cup of an herbal concoction.

  “Nena. If she said she didn’t confront Maria, then I believe her. Besides, if she was the one outside that night, then who killed her?” I watched John pour water from the electric kettle into a mug. I loved that thing. It was quicker than boiling the water on the stove and it tasted much better than microwaved water.

  John shrugged as he came back with my tea. He set my cup next to my recliner along with an olive oil cookie. I know, it sounds horrible but the truth is they’re wonderful little cookies from Spain made with olive oil and anise; the perfect accompaniment to the tea and the cold night.

  “Do the police still think the same person killed both women?”

  “It’s the theory we’re following for the moment unless you have a better one.”

  I finished knitting my row and put the scarf down. “No, I think it’s the same killer. I just can’t seem to find a connection to both women with any of my suspects.”

  John returned to his book while I munched on the cookie. So who could the mystery woman outside Maria’s house be? Nadine? Carol Corliss? Julie Vang from the other former vegan- now-Vietnamese restaurant? Maybe all these women loved the charismatic Sergei or maybe Ann heard wrong. The windows were closed, mystery woman was further down the block, it was late and Ann was watching TV. Maybe I shouldn’t put too much stock into what she claimed to hear. The police certainly weren’t.

  There was someone I needed to talk to but given the time it was going to have to wait until morning.

  “You just about ready for bed?” John asked.

  I walked into the kitchen and rinsed out our cups and placed them in the sink. John made sure the fire was out and then turned off the lights.

  “Give me a head start,” I said as I headed upstairs. “I want to slap one of my tattoos on my butt.”

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  “Alex, come on in.” Sergei ushered me into his home and I untangled my scarf from around my neck. “What brings you here so early? I was just about to leave.”

  I followed him into the living room and took a seat on a sectional sofa. “Are you aware the police talked to the neighbors and one of them remembered seeing Maria outside late one night arguing with another woman?” I asked.

/>   “Yes, your husband and his partner questioned me about that. They didn’t have a specific date just the general time frame so I couldn’t be one-hundred percent sure of where I was at the time, but most likely here or at the store.”

  “Not with Nena?” Geesh, I hated asking him about his affair, but he had been so open about it from the beginning.

  “I think not. I’d been keeping my distance from her the last couple of months. She was getting too attached. Though I could have been if it was more than two months ago.”

  “Sergei, excuse me for being so blunt, but what do you expect to happen with these women?”

  He shrugged and leaned back in the chair across from me. “I never promise them anything. I am upfront from the very beginning and they always seem to be happy to have things as they are. Just some fun. A diversion.”

  “I guess I’m old fashioned, but at a certain point I think women want a commitment. Maybe it starts out as fun and games, but it’s just our nature to want something permanent. Let me change course here. Did Maria ever mention this argument to you?”

  He shook his head and crossed his big arms across his chest. “No. But she started writing those blogs about my shop then. Of course, I didn’t know about this mysterious visit with some woman until the police questioned me, but the timing seems about right. Up until a couple months ago she was going off on vegan restaurants and then suddenly she was writing all this nonsense about my shop and its unsanitary condition. You’ve been there. Does my shop look dirty to you? Did you see anything improper going on? I keep meats separate, cheese and the like in another place altogether.”

  “You’re right. Your shop has always been spotless and the people working there certainly seem to be well trained in their jobs.”

  “Exactly. So why would she go off on me like that? I always thought something was up but she would never talk about it. I kept asking her what was wrong. Nothing. She would say nothing.”