Cold Case, Hot Accomplice Page 2

With stiff shoulders and the feeling that the world was suddenly all wrong, she went back into the blue room, where the three detectives were just finishing up their breakfasts.

  “I need your help,” she said without preamble. “We can’t find my aunt. She’s missing, and I need you all to go to her house and see if you can find out what’s happened to her.”

  Jimmy, a handsome Italian, frowned. “How long has she been missing?”

  “Almost two hours,” Roxy replied. “My sister has been over to her house and can’t find her anywhere. Aunt Liz’s car is there, but she isn’t. Something is wrong.”

  “Roxy, we can’t check out someone who has only been missing for a couple of hours,” Frank said kindly. “She’s an adult. She’s allowed to be missing if she wants to be.”

  “I’ll go.” Steve drained his coffee cup and then stood and looked at Roxy expectantly.

  Both of his partners looked at him in surprise, and a sinking feeling swept through Roxy.

  Of the three men at the table, the last one she wanted to have anything to do with was Detective Steve Kincaid. But at the moment her concern for her aunt overweighed her disgust at having to deal with the handsome devil.

  * * *

  Steve had no idea what he was doing. Why had he offered to check this out for a woman who had made it clear in a hundred different ways that she didn’t think much of him?

  The minute she climbed into his unmarked car, the scent of her filled the confines. She smelled of some kind of fresh floral perfume and a combination of exotic spice scents, and he was glad that the passenger seat hadn’t been covered with the usual fast-food wrappers that normally adorned it.

  He knew there were three Marcoli sisters, but he didn’t know any of them well. They had all been younger than him, and the only interaction he’d had with any of them had been Roxy, who both fascinated and repelled him at the same time.

  She was slamming hot with her short, curly dark hair, full lush lips and figure meant for lovemaking. But her tongue was sharp enough to slice a tough cut of meat, and she’d made it clear that she didn’t particularly like him.

  “So I gather your aunt comes in each morning and delivers baked goods for you to put on the menu?” he asked as she pointed in the direction of her aunt’s house.

  “She comes in every morning at six-thirty like clockwork. In the three and a half years that the Dollhouse has been open, she’s never, ever been late,” Roxy said.

  “So she’s responsible for that coffee cake I like.”

  Roxy nodded. “And the pies and cakes that I serve throughout each day. She’s always loved to bake, so when I decided to open the restaurant we came to an agreement about her baking for me.” She began absently chewing on a fingernail.

  “How old is this aunt of yours?”

  “A very spry sixty-five.” She continued working the fingernail.

  “If you draw blood, we’ll have to waste time at the hospital before we get to your aunt’s house,” he observed with a pointed stare.

  She flushed and dropped her hand into her lap. “Aunt Liz always tells me that it’s unbecoming for a thirty-four-year-old to chew her nails, but I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.”

  “I’ll bet you were a cute kid,” he replied, the charm easily falling from his lips from long habit.

  He felt her glare on him. “You have a reputation for being a great flirt. I don’t find it great—I find it quite tedious.”

  “Ouch,” he responded with a mock wince.

  For a few minutes they rode in silence, the only communication nonverbal as she directed him where to turn on the winding mountain roads that led to her aunt’s home.

  “So what exactly is your relationship with your aunt besides your business arrangement?” he asked, eager to break the uncomfortable silence between them.

  “Aunt Liz raised me and my sisters from the time we were little. For all intents and purposes, she’s my mother figure, and she’s always been the most dependable person in my life. That’s why this is so unlike her. She’s never late. She’s never unreliable. That’s why I’m afraid something bad has happened.” She raised her hand up toward her mouth as if to begin to gnaw her fingernail again, but then quickly dropped it back into her lap.

  “You said your sister already checked things out at the house?”

  Roxy nodded, her rich dark hair gleaming in the late April sun that drifted through the passenger window. “Marlene. I called her when Aunt Liz was almost half an hour late. She called me just a little while ago to tell me she’d checked out the entire house and Aunt Liz wasn’t there.”

  She sat forward against the seat belt. “That’s it. That’s her place.” She pointed to a neat brick ranch house with beige trim and a well-manicured yard. “That’s her car in the driveway.”

  He felt Roxy’s tension rolling off her as he pulled the car in behind the older Buick and parked. Before he’d shut off the engine, she was out the door and running toward the front porch.

  “Roxy,” he called after her, halting her before she could enter the house. Her sister had already been inside, stirring things up. Although there was no reason to believe that anyone nefarious might be in the house, he didn’t want Roxy just bursting through the front door without knowing what might be on the other side.

  Even though he believed that nothing bad was going on, he pulled his gun from his holster and motioned for her to get behind him.

  “Don’t shoot my aunt,” she said from behind him, and he fought the impulse to turn and stare at her in disbelief. Did she really think him so inept that he might shoot a helpless older woman?

  “I don’t intend to shoot anyone,” he said. “I think you’re probably overreacting to all of this.”

  “I’m not the one who has a gun in my hand,” she retorted.

  Steve gritted his teeth and tried the doorknob, which turned easily beneath his hand. “Did your sister say if the door was locked or unlocked when she arrived?”

  “Unlocked,” Roxy replied.

  Steve gave the door a good look but saw no indication of forced entry. In the back of his mind he knew he was probably investigating a crime that hadn’t happened, looking for a person who wasn’t really missing.

  So what was he doing there? Why had he agreed to this? He thought it might have to do with his physical attraction to Roxy Marcoli and an attempt to ease some of the obvious distaste she held for him.

  Not that he really cared what she thought about him. The last thing he would ever want was another crazy woman in his life. Been there, done that, and he still paid the price in a shattered heart that found no respite from pain.

  It took him only moments to make sure the house was clear, and after that he and Roxy stood in the kitchen, facing each other. “Her purse is here.” He pointed to the brown oversize bag on the counter next to a set of keys.

  “She is constantly forgetting her purse, and she keeps her cell phone inside it,” Roxy replied. Her dark eyes held strain and the barest whisper of fear. “Look, the cakes and pies and muffins are all packaged and ready for delivery.” She pointed to the countertop, where the items were in plastic carrying cases. “She obviously had the intention of bringing those things in first thing this morning just like always. Something terrible has happened to her, and you have to do something about it.”

  “Officially I can’t do anything about it.” He saw the flash of irritation that darkened her eyes even more. “Roxy, right now all we have is a grown woman who has been missing for less than three hours. There might have been an emergency with one of her friends. Somebody could have picked her up here, and she forgot her purse or to lock the door after her.”

  “So you aren’t going to do anything,” she said flatly.

  “I’ve already done what I can at this point.”

  She stared
at him for a long moment and then headed toward the front door. “You’re obviously a better flirt than you are a detective,” she said, and he winced once again as he heard the front door slam shut.

  He followed her back outside, locking the door and pulling it closed behind him. She stood at the side of his car, her arms crossed over her voluptuous breasts and her expression mirroring that of a beast from hell.

  She got into the passenger seat as he settled in behind the wheel; the silence in the air was as thick as honey turned to sugar. Unfortunately there was no honey in Roxy Marcoli.

  She had a reputation for being a tough woman, both in business and in her personal life. He knew that several police officers had asked her out at various times and had always been cut off at the knees.

  While Steve found himself drawn to her on a physical level, he wasn’t looking for a woman in his life, and in any case he was certain that Foxy Roxy would shut him down even more easily than she had others.

  “Roxy, I’m sorry I can’t do anything more for you at this point. I suggest you call your aunt’s friends, check in with neighbors and see if they’ve heard from her this morning. I’m sure she’ll show up and there will be a logical explanation for her absence.”

  Roxy shook her head. “You don’t understand. You don’t know my aunt Liz. She would never just disappear like this and not get in touch with me or my sisters to let us know what was going on. She’s not that irresponsible. She’s just not that kind of person.”

  Steve drove her back toward her place of business. For the rest of the ride she chewed on her nails without acknowledging that he was in the car with her.

  As he pulled up in front of the Dollhouse, she got out of the car. “Thanks for nothing,” she said and slammed the door.

  Steve watched her as she disappeared into the restaurant. He’d done what he could for her at this moment in time, and he hoped that by the afternoon Liz Marcoli would reappear with apologies for making Roxy worry, and all would be right in the Marcoli world.

  The last thing Steve wanted to work on was a missing-persons case. He tried to avoid those whenever possible. He might be a shameless flirt, but he was a damn good detective, and along with his partners, Frank and Jim, his solve rate was enviable.

  But missing-persons cases usually ended badly, or didn’t end at all, leaving questions that would forever remain unanswered, leaving behind broken hearts that couldn’t even begin to go through the healing process until they knew what had happened to their loved ones.

  Steve knew all about the lack of closure when a person went missing. He understood the questions that nagged, the gnawing need for answers. He tried not to tap into the well of pain inside himself, preferring to keep up a superficial ladies’ man mask to keep people at bay.

  How could he work a missing-persons case when he had one in his own life, one that he’d been working for the past two years and couldn’t solve?

  Roxy just might be right—he was probably a better flirt than detective when it came to finding somebody who’d gone missing.

  Chapter 2

  At precisely five o’clock that evening Roxy changed the open sign to Closed and locked the front door. It had been a busy afternoon that had kept her jumping from one dining room to another to assure that all her customers had what they needed.

  Throughout the afternoon, whenever there was a lull in business, Roxy had been on the phone, calling her aunt’s friends, the nearest hospitals and her sisters, but nobody had seen or heard from Liz all day.

  After locking the restaurant, she raced up the two sets of stairs that led to her private quarters. The second floor was strictly storage and the top floor was her personal sanctuary, but as she opened the door to the large apartment she knew there would be no peace at the moment.

  She called her sisters, Marlene and Sheri, and then grabbed her purse and car keys. Hopefully by the time they all arrived at the Wolf Creek police station, Detective Steve Kincaid would be off duty. Somebody had to take her seriously about Liz’s disappearance, and if he wouldn’t, then she’d find somebody who would. There was no way she intended the night to pass without somebody official out looking for Aunt Liz. She didn’t care about some stupid twenty-four-hour rule.

  She had to stay calm. Nobody would take her seriously if she lost it.

  To the outside world Liz Marcoli was a pleasant, kind woman who excelled at baking and quilting, but to Roxy she was the person who had made order out of chaos, security out of danger. She had saved Roxy’s life and the lives of her sisters, and now Roxy wouldn’t rest until somebody was doing something to find her.

  Where could she be? What could have possibly happened to her? Since the age of seven, a day had never gone by that Roxy hadn’t seen or spoken to her aunt.

  She tightened her hands on the steering wheel as she thought of the handsome detective who had been like a chigger under her skin for months.

  She didn’t know how any crime got solved with men like him on the job; not that there was that much violent crime in the area. Still, if he investigated as often as he flirted with all the women in town, they would have no unsolved crimes on the books.

  The Dollhouse was at the opposite end of town from the police station, but it only took her minutes to get there, for the business district of Main Street was only three blocks long.

  She parked in front of the brick building and sat to wait for her sisters to arrive. They would be a force of three, and hopefully somebody would take their concerns seriously.

  Lowering her window, she breathed in the late spring air, trying to staunch the panic that threatened to crawl up the back of her throat and release itself in a scream.

  She tapped the steering wheel impatiently. Marlene would arrive first. She rented an apartment above a shop that sold antiques, trinkets and souvenirs. She’d moved there almost a year ago after her divorce.

  Roxy frowned as she thought of Marlene. She’d left Wolf Creek as a happy bride to move to Pittsburgh with her new husband and had returned home two years later a different woman, not only divorced, but withdrawn and unwilling to talk about the failure of her marriage.

  It would take longer for the youngest of the sisters to arrive. Sheri lived farther up the mountain in a small cabin surrounded by thick woods.

  Roxy was in the process of tapping the leather right off her steering wheel when Marlene pulled up next to her. She got out of her car and slid into the passenger seat in Roxy’s.

  She met Roxy’s gaze, the frantic worry inside Roxy’s stomach reflected in her sister’s blue eyes. “What do you think happened to her?” Marlene asked.

  “I don’t have a clue, but I’m not leaving here until we have a full investigation under way to find out where she is,” Roxy said.

  The two sat silently as they waited for Sheri. “How’s business?” Roxy finally asked when she could take the silence no longer.

  Marlene and Sheri owned a roadside storefront closer to Hershey that specialized in Amish-made furniture, cheeses and fresh-grown fruits and vegetables.

  “Getting better every day now that the weather is warming up,” she replied. “Abe and Jennifer are working this evening. Sheri called them in to take over after we found out Aunt Liz was missing.”

  Missing.

  The word hung in the air, horrifying...heartbreaking. At that moment Sheri’s black pickup pulled into a parking space nearby. The youngest of the three got out and approached them, her shoulder-length chestnut hair shimmering in the sunshine.

  When the three women stood side by side, few people realized they were sisters. While they all shared the same mother, they each had different fathers.

  Roxy was short and compact, with dark hair and dark eyes. Marlene was a tall blonde with ice-blue eyes, and Sheri liked to refer to herself as an ordinary mutt, with brown hair and whiskey-colored eyes.<
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  Roxy and Marlene got out of Roxy’s car and greeted Sheri, who looked younger than usual with worry darkening her large eyes.

  Roxy knew she would be the one to take the lead here. She’d always been the strong one, the big sister who would take care of her younger siblings at any cost.

  “Okay, let’s do this,” Roxy said. She wouldn’t be turned away. She refused to be dismissed like she had been that morning by Steve. She wanted boots on the ground and search parties beating the bushes. More than anything, she wanted Aunt Liz to be found safe and sound.

  With a deep breath and her sisters following just behind her, Roxy stepped into the police station, where plastic chairs lined a wall and a uniformed officer she didn’t know sat at a desk. A door to his right led to the room that she knew all the other members of law enforcement called home away from home.

  “We’re here to file a missing-persons report,” Roxy said, relieved that her voice sounded strong and confident, even though she wanted to melt into a puddle of worried goo.

  “Then you need to speak to one of our detectives.” There was a sound of a buzzer, and he gestured toward the door. “They’re at the desks on the right side of the room.”

  Roxy nodded and pushed through the door. Her gaze automatically went to the three desks on the right, and her heart sank to her toes as she saw that the only one occupied was by her shaggy-haired nemesis.

  An attractive long-legged blonde in the traditional blue police officer uniform leaned over his desk, and they were laughing as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

  Roxy was vaguely aware of other people in the room as she cleared her throat with the force of a snorting bull. The smile on Steve’s face fell as he turned partway in his chair to see the three of them standing there.

  He said something to the blonde, who sauntered away with a sexy swing of her hips. Roxy marched toward him, trying to balance temper and fear.

  She wasn’t sure why it irritated her that he’d obviously been enjoying the company of the blonde bombshell, but it did. “We hate to mess with your social life, but we want to file a missing-persons report,” she said as he got up from his desk.