Read Online To Catch a Cook: An Angie Amalfi Mystery by Joanne Pence - Free Book Online
Authors: Joanne Pence
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“I’m not hungry.”
She gazed at the doors the nurse went through. Aulis was back there, alone and hurt, fighting for his life, and Paavo here, his heart aching.
“We’ll wait.” She took his hand.
“You, then me, now Aulis,” he whispered, his hand tightening painfully on hers. “Why, Angie? It doesn’t make any sense. What could we have that would make anyone interested in us, and why in hell would anyone want to hurt a sweet old man like Aulis?”
There were no words she could say. They sat in silence, Paavo’s hand in hers, and she hoped the connection brought some comfort beyond his dark, lonely thoughts.
“Rosinsky and Platnikov are dead!” Harold Partridge screamed into the phone, his voice growing shriller with each word. “Do you realize what this means? Do you?”
“We’re sorry, sir.”
“Sorry? That doesn’t begin to say what you’ll be!” He had a strangle hold on the phone and wished it were their necks. “I still don’t have the brooch. It’s got to be with the woman.”
“She seems to be hiding. She hasn’t returned to her apartment.”
“I’m surrounded by complete, utter morons! Do I have to do everything myself? Her boyfriend’s a cop, goddamn it! A homicide cop. Find her through him!” Partridge’s voice was raw from yelling. It was good his office was soundproof.
“I guess we can try to find him and put a tail on him.”
“Hell, if you can’t find him any other way, you can always kill someone, then wait while he shows up to investigate!” He hung up, his heart beating so hard and fast he feared for his blood pressure.
Rosinsky and Platnikov. He took off his glasses and shut his eyes, fear and dread drenching him with sweat.
He wasn’t about to let it start again; he would stop it, one way or the other.
Chapter 9
Paavo parked in the driveway of Aulis’s apartment building. As he and Angie got out of the car, the area seemed eerily quiet. Usually neighbors milled about on the street chatting with each other, children played, dogs barked, and low-rider cars generated a pulsating thump-tha-thump from bass speakers as they cruised by.
They were about a block from Mission Dolores, built by Spanish padres with Ohlone Indian labor at the same time as the Revolutionary War was erupting on the other side of the continent. This part of the city was a touch of Mexico in the heart of the city, filled with los restaurantes y las abarroterías .
Aulis’s apartment was located on the ground level of a three-story building, at the end of a long, flowerpot-lined path behind the garage. Paavo unlocked the front door and walked in, leaving the door wide for Angie to follow if she wished. He wouldn’t blame her if she preferred to remain outside. Being here, knowing Aulis lay hospitalized and close to death, chilled him to the bone.
Three steps inside the door a dark pool of blood stained the beige carpet. His breath caught.
Yesterday, investigators had swept through the crime scene. He was glad he had asked the CSU to go over Angie’s apartment after the break-in there, as well as the one in his own home. Now the crime lab could look for similarities between the three. There had to be some.
Yesterday, too, he and Angie had spent the entire day and most of the night at the hospital. Aulis remained in a coma in intensive care, and was allowed no visitors. His condition had not changed this morning.
The only joy in the past twenty-four hours came from bringing Hercules back to the little cottage. He was so ecstatic to be with Paavo again that every time Paavo sat down, all eighteen pounds of cat bounded onto his lap. Angie immediately treated the big tabby to a plate of fresh salmon. Paavo found himself barely acknowledging the happy cat, though. His thoughts were elsewhere.
Now he forced his eyes from the carpet stain to the rest of the apartment. The destruction so much resembled what had been done to his own home, for a moment he was unable to move. Sofa and
She gazed at the doors the nurse went through. Aulis was back there, alone and hurt, fighting for his life, and Paavo here, his heart aching.
“We’ll wait.” She took his hand.
“You, then me, now Aulis,” he whispered, his hand tightening painfully on hers. “Why, Angie? It doesn’t make any sense. What could we have that would make anyone interested in us, and why in hell would anyone want to hurt a sweet old man like Aulis?”
There were no words she could say. They sat in silence, Paavo’s hand in hers, and she hoped the connection brought some comfort beyond his dark, lonely thoughts.
“Rosinsky and Platnikov are dead!” Harold Partridge screamed into the phone, his voice growing shriller with each word. “Do you realize what this means? Do you?”
“We’re sorry, sir.”
“Sorry? That doesn’t begin to say what you’ll be!” He had a strangle hold on the phone and wished it were their necks. “I still don’t have the brooch. It’s got to be with the woman.”
“She seems to be hiding. She hasn’t returned to her apartment.”
“I’m surrounded by complete, utter morons! Do I have to do everything myself? Her boyfriend’s a cop, goddamn it! A homicide cop. Find her through him!” Partridge’s voice was raw from yelling. It was good his office was soundproof.
“I guess we can try to find him and put a tail on him.”
“Hell, if you can’t find him any other way, you can always kill someone, then wait while he shows up to investigate!” He hung up, his heart beating so hard and fast he feared for his blood pressure.
Rosinsky and Platnikov. He took off his glasses and shut his eyes, fear and dread drenching him with sweat.
He wasn’t about to let it start again; he would stop it, one way or the other.
Chapter 9
Paavo parked in the driveway of Aulis’s apartment building. As he and Angie got out of the car, the area seemed eerily quiet. Usually neighbors milled about on the street chatting with each other, children played, dogs barked, and low-rider cars generated a pulsating thump-tha-thump from bass speakers as they cruised by.
They were about a block from Mission Dolores, built by Spanish padres with Ohlone Indian labor at the same time as the Revolutionary War was erupting on the other side of the continent. This part of the city was a touch of Mexico in the heart of the city, filled with los restaurantes y las abarroterías .
Aulis’s apartment was located on the ground level of a three-story building, at the end of a long, flowerpot-lined path behind the garage. Paavo unlocked the front door and walked in, leaving the door wide for Angie to follow if she wished. He wouldn’t blame her if she preferred to remain outside. Being here, knowing Aulis lay hospitalized and close to death, chilled him to the bone.
Three steps inside the door a dark pool of blood stained the beige carpet. His breath caught.
Yesterday, investigators had swept through the crime scene. He was glad he had asked the CSU to go over Angie’s apartment after the break-in there, as well as the one in his own home. Now the crime lab could look for similarities between the three. There had to be some.
Yesterday, too, he and Angie had spent the entire day and most of the night at the hospital. Aulis remained in a coma in intensive care, and was allowed no visitors. His condition had not changed this morning.
The only joy in the past twenty-four hours came from bringing Hercules back to the little cottage. He was so ecstatic to be with Paavo again that every time Paavo sat down, all eighteen pounds of cat bounded onto his lap. Angie immediately treated the big tabby to a plate of fresh salmon. Paavo found himself barely acknowledging the happy cat, though. His thoughts were elsewhere.
Now he forced his eyes from the carpet stain to the rest of the apartment. The destruction so much resembled what had been done to his own home, for a moment he was unable to move. Sofa and
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