Killer Deceptions

Killer Deceptions
Zia Westfield
https://amzn.to/31FrcYX

Chapter One
Joe Vanetti put down the phone and crossed out the next name on his list. Eleven hotels and motels and not a single one had a vacancy for the weekend. He tapped his pen against the pad as he contemplated alternatives.
The weather called for snow this weekend. The farther he had to go for a room, the greater the likelihood the snow would prevent him from getting where he needed to be.
He flipped open the file that he normally kept locked in his desk. The newspaper on top had yellowed after more than a decade. He’d read it so many times, he could practically recite it by heart. JEWEL THEFT AT EXCLUSIVE HOTEL. Only five of them had had the opportunity: a bartender, a waitress, a night clerk, and Joe and Robbie—two wet-behind-the-ears pre-law students working the summer before their senior year. He and Robbie had been in their rooms asleep, which meant they’d had no alibi. But it hadn’t been long before the police narrowed their suspect list down to one.
Joe lifted the newspaper article to reveal a second one underneath, detailing the arrest. A bracelet had been found in Robbie’s locker. There was no sign of the diamond necklace. The police had determined that Robbie had managed to pass it on to an accomplice, never mind that it made no sense that he’d keep the bracelet.
Joe returned to school for his senior year. Robbie got five years in prison.
And Joe had been searching for the real jewel thief ever since. Reports from a private investigator filled out the rest of the folder. Joe had followed up on every one of them. He’d come up empty. It was like chasing after smoke.
Joe tossed his pen down on the desk with disgust. He finally had a new lead and he wouldn’t be able to check it out because of the crappy weather and the lack of rooms in the area.
Damn.
“Yo, Vanetti, I hear you’re asking about places to stay in the Catskills.” Detective T.J. Garcia sauntered over to Joe’s desk, a quizzical gleam in his gaze. Since Garcia worked out of the Carville North Precinct, Joe assumed that he’d learned the info from his little brother, Ryan, who’d recently made detective on the squad over there.
Joe leaned back in his chair. “You heard right. Know anyone who has a cabin in the area?”
T.J. sat on the corner of the desk, his gaze landing on the notepad filled with crossed-out hotel names. “Doesn’t look like you’ve had much luck.”
Joe didn’t know Garcia well, but the other detective had a reputation for being a smart aleck as well as a helluva cop. “Any chance you can change that luck?”
T.J. rubbed his jaw a moment. “That depends. What are your feelings on dating?”
“Dating?” Joe repeated. “What do my feelings about dating have to do with getting a room in the Catskills?”
T.J. wagged his finger. “Just answer the question.”
Joe observed him through narrowed eyes. T.J. seemed to be enjoying himself for reasons Joe didn’t understand. But he’d had no luck finding lodging. If T.J. could get him the inside track on a cabin or motel room, he’d play along.
“Fine,” he said. “I’m all for dating if that’s what you’re looking for.” He then pointed to the stack of folders on his desk. “But until I get caught up on paperwork, the only dates I’ll be having will be with the computer. Satisfied?”
“Hell, no. Your brother is right. You need a life.” T.J. grinned down at him.
Joe clung to his temper, reminding himself that the conversation was supposed to be about housing in the Catskills. If it’d get him a room in the Catskills, he’d put up with the cocky bastard a while longer.
“Spill, Garcia, or get off my desk and get the hell back to your own precinct.” Joe crossed his arms over his chest and regarded the other detective through lowered brows.
T.J. stood and put his hands on his hips. “Here’s the thing. I owe my neighbor for watching my dog while I was undercover. I promised I’d be her date this weekend for a family affair. But the captain’s ordered me on another assignment. I hate to let Angela down. Then I heard from Ryan that you were looking for a place in the Catskills and it all fell together.
“What fell together?” Joe said, letting his exasperation show.
T.J. grinned and Joe would swear that the gleam in his eye practically twinkled in delight.
“Easy,” T.J. said. “You can take my place.”
Joe stared at him stupefied. “You want me to be some strange woman’s date for the weekend? Are you nuts?” Hell, no, a thousand times over. The last thing he needed was to be some woman’s boy toy. He had his own reasons for wanting to get to the Catskills, and they sure as hell didn’t include romance.
“Don’t be hasty.” T.J. held up a hand and shook his head as if he was disappointed. “I’ve got a room at the Red Spruce Resort that’s yours for the asking.”
Joe had been about to tell T.J. to take his offer and shove it, but the name Red Spruce Resort caught his attention. Maybe his luck was changing. If his information was correct, his thief would make a grab for a priceless emerald necklace that would be gracing the neck of a famous violinist who was giving a special concert at the Red Spruce Resort on Saturday night.
“I’m listening.”
T.J. nodded. "Figured you would. Like I said, I owe Angela and now you owe me. It's a win any way you look at it."
“I’ll do it,” Joe said. He didn’t need to think about it. A Christmas miracle had just dropped in his lap and he wasn’t about to let it slip by. “You’d better tell me what I need to know about this Angela.” He paused as another thought occurred to him. “Are you sure she’s going to be okay with this switch?”
“Leave it to me. She’ll welcome you with open arms,” T.J. assured him.
“Yeah? Sounds like the two of you are close.” Joe wasn’t sure how good an idea it was to step in the middle of someone else’s relationship, but he couldn’t afford to be choosy.
T.J. snorted. “Dating Angie would be like dating my sister. Besides, she has a list of attributes—her word not mine—for dating material. Top of the list is No Cops.”
Joe rubbed the bridge of his nose, something niggling in his mind. “What’s this Angie’s name?”
T.J. smiled, looking like a crocodile that had found a free lunch. “Angela Maria Rossi.”
Joe stared at T.J., his tongue unable to form any words for a full minute. “Angie’s your neighbor?” he finally said, his head shaking in disbelief. “She’ll never go for it. I know Angie. She hates deception.”
“She’ll get over it,” T.J. said bluntly. “She’s desperate.”
Joe sighed. “Looks like we have that in common.”
***
Angela heard the doorbell as she was shoving a racy red lingerie set into her bag. She hadn’t expected to get lucky this weekend, but going up against her cousin Marisa required every bit of armor she could carry with her. She tugged at the zipper, but when the bell rang again, she gave up trying to close the bag and marched to the front door.
T.J. was early. Since when was he early? It figured that the first time he decided to be on time was the day she would’ve been happy to be behind schedule. The sooner they got on the road, the sooner they’d join the family reunion, and the sooner she’d get to hear Aunt Rosa talk about what a shame it was that Angela was thirty and not married.
Hurrying across her living room carpet, she paused to straighten the afghan that lay over her sofa and checked that the rest of the room appeared in order. Everything in its place and a place for everything. The little ditty she sang with her first-graders played in her head.
Another sharp rap on her door reminded her that she needed to answer it.
She peered through her peephole, remembering the lectures T.J. had given her on being cautious and saw the back of a dark head and a brown leather jacket. She wondered what he’d seen on the street that had caught his attention.
She unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Hell—”
The greeting died on her lips as she saw the man who stood on her doorstep.
“Hey, Angela,” Joe Vanetti said with a smile.
Angela slammed the door on his face. She leaned back against it, her heart pounding, her mouth dry, and her brain short-circuiting.
Joe Vanetti on her doorstep. Not possible.
There had to be a mistake.
She’d had a crush on him since the second grade. He’d been two years ahead of her, but that hadn’t stopped her from falling hard for an “older” boy. She’d been content to keep her crush to herself, but then she’d gotten a job as a camp counselor at the same day camp Joe had worked at. That summer had been one disaster after another. Even now, fifteen years later, her cheeks were on fire.
Two brisk knocks sounded, interrupting any trips down memory lane.
“Angie, open up. Come on, I can explain.”
Swiping her hands against her thighs, Angie pushed off the door and opened it once more.
“What are you doing here? Where’s T.J.? Please tell me he’s parking the car.”
“Can I come in?” Joe asked instead.
The feeling of dread that had settled in her stomach the moment she’d opened the door to see Joe Vanetti on the other side grew. She gestured him in.
“Talk,” she ordered.
He ran his hand through his hair, mussing up the brown strands. A part of her wanted to tame them—the too-stupid-never-left-high-school part of her. She curled her fingers at her side to keep them from betraying her.
“Where’s T.J.?” At the moment, that was her number one priority. If he was running late, she could deal with that. But if that were the case, the rational teacher’s mind in her said, then why not simply call?
Sending Joe Vanetti did not bode well.
Joe braced his feet apart and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He wore a rather sheepish expression.
“T.J. can’t make it this weekend. He sent me in his place.”
“Oh no. No and no and no.” Angie shook her head vehemently. “Not happening. You and I are like oil and water. Bad things happen when we get together.”
Joe scowled. “We’ve had a few run-ins. So what? According to T.J., you need a boyfriend for the weekend. I’m it.”
Angela’s jaw dropped even as fumes came out her ears. A few run-ins! The goddesses of fate had to have been having a good laugh, because, despite having a huge crush on Joe, every time she was in his presence it coincided with one of her most embarrassing moments, like climbing up the ladder to the dock only to have her bikini top fall off, or falling into a mud pit just as he walked by with his latest summer girlfriend, Louise Bradley.
“Of all the arrogant, obnoxious—” she practically spat out.
Joe pulled his hands out of his pockets and held them up in a sign of a T.
“Time out.”
Angie clamped her lips together, though she itched to finish giving him a piece of her mind.
Joe placed his hands on his hips, his fingers splayed, causing his leather jacket to open further, revealing a larger expanse of chest. The seventeen-year-old boy had certainly filled out.
Of course, over the years she’d gotten occasional glimpses of Joe when he’d attended church with his family. But, for the most part, they ran in different circles. She’d been content to live life that way.
Only now T.J. had to go and screw it up by dumping Joe on her doorstep.
“You have to leave,” she said, making shooing motions with her hand. “I don’t know what T.J. was thinking, or,” she added, her brow scrunching, “why he sent you, but I don’t need a boyfriend.”
Liar! In a moment of weakness, she’d told her mom that she was seeing someone in order to stop the endless comparisons to cousin Marisa, who was younger by two years and engaged to marry a doctor. It’d bought her some time, but her mother’s pointed hints that she wanted to meet the new man in Angie’s life, along with a trip to the confessional, had prompted her to come clean. And she would have if there hadn’t been a family dinner to celebrate Marisa’s engagement. Her cousin’s comments about Angie being single and thirty had prompted Angie to declare she was in a serious relationship with an incredible man and would bring him to their grandparents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary party coming up in a few weeks.
She’d then gone home and eaten a half-gallon of pistachio mint ice cream, berating herself for letting Marisa get to her. After that, she’d called T.J.
Her plan had been simple. Introduce T.J., then stage a break up later on.
It would’ve been the perfect plan if T.J. had stuck with the script. Instead, he’d improvised and look where that had left her. Her family knew Joe’s family through church. Maybe not well, but well enough that the news would spread.
This was what she got for lying in the first place. She might as well confess all to the family. She’d have to put up with Marisa’s smug face, but she’d been dealing with her obnoxious cousin since two-year-old Marisa had had an epic tantrum when four-year-old Angie had refused to share her favorite doll.
“Angie, if you don’t want me to act as your boyfriend, that’s fine, but you should know that I intend to be there.” He jerked a thumb behind his shoulder. “It’s already started to snow. It makes more sense that we drive together, don’t you think?”
“It’s snowing?” She flew to the window beside the door and moved the curtain aside to peer into the darkness. Flurries of white were clearly visible. Weather reports had indicated snow over the weekend, but she’d figured she’d be happily toasting her tootsies in front of a fire at the resort by the time the stuff fell from the skies. Besides, she’d counted on T.J.’s SUV to deal with the roads. Her compact was fine for city streets, but she really didn’t want to test it out on mountain roads.
Then the rest of his statement penetrated her mind. Her hand still clutching the curtain, she glanced over at him.
“What do you mean you intend to be there anyway?”
He looked down at his watch. “You know the violinist who’s performing this weekend at the resort?” She nodded her head and waited for him to continue. “She’s on a final farewell tour and has worn a priceless emerald necklace at each performance. I’ve got intel that says someone’s going to try to steal it while she’s performing in the Catskills. When he or she does, I’m going to be there.” His voice turned grim and she shivered. “I’ll tell you more about it on the way. If we don’t get moving, the roads are going to become impassable.”
Angie bit her lip. She either canceled, or she went with Joe.
No contest.
Curiosity, along with a strong sense of justice, had always been one of her besetting sins. It was why she’d become a first-grade teacher. Six-year-olds were incredibly curious about the world around them. She loved helping them explore that world and learn how to navigate within it.
“Let’s go,” she said. “But if you’re feeding me a line, I’m sitting you next to Aunt Rosa. Believe me. That’s a fate worse than death.”
Chapter Two

By the time they arrived at Red Spruce Resort, Angie was wrung out. Not long after they’d left her place, the snow had come down in steady swirls that had left visibility no more than six feet or so from the hood. Any talk of jewel thieves and emerald necklaces had taken a back seat to arriving at the resort in one piece.
What should have been less than a three-hour ride had turned into six hours.
It was nearly one in the morning. She wanted nothing more than a bed and a bath. She could only imagine how Joe felt—he’d been the one driving. She’d offered to take a turn, but he’d told her he was fine and she hadn’t pushed it.
When they walked into the hotel lobby, she sighed with relief. There was a huge decorated Christmas tree with an electric train underneath, and stockings hung from a fireplace that continued to burn. As much as she wanted to warm herself beside the fire, she went immediately to the reception desk.
“Hello. I’ve got a reservation for two rooms under the name Angela Rossi.”
The clerk, a middle-aged woman with glasses and a tendency to squint, punched some keys on the computer.
“Yes, I have you right here, Ms. Rossi. You and your companion are in the Goldenrod Suite.”
“The Golden—” she didn’t complete her sentence since Joe chose that moment to enter with their suitcases. She’d tried to insist that she was perfectly capable of carrying her own suitcase, but he’d countered that it made more sense for her to check them in while he parked the car.
Joe set the suitcases down by the counter. “Everything okay?”
No, everything was not okay. But she bit back the words hovering on the edge of her tongue. She noted the fatigue in his features and felt guilty that she hadn’t pushed to share in the driving.
“One sec,” she said, holding up a finger.
She turned back to the clerk and pasted a smile on her face.
“Um, could you tell me who made the reservations? Was it my aunt Rosa?” Not likely. Aunt Rosa made penny pinchers look like big spenders.
The clerk typed some keystrokes and a little blip sounded. “Let’s see, the reservations were made by Catarina Rossi.”
“Mom?” Angie said in disbelief. Why would her mother reserve a suite? What had her mother been thinking?
“Just a moment,” the clerk continued. “It looks like a second call was placed asking that the room be upgraded to one of our suites.” The clerk gave her a puzzled look. “You made the call.”
“I—”
Angie clamped her mouth shut as she caught sight of Joe’s weary shoulders. She wasn’t about to get into it with the clerk at one a.m. Suites had two rooms, didn’t they? Sure, it would put a massive dent into her battered credit card, but so what? She could sort it out later.
She offered Joe a bright smile.
“We’re all set. We’ve got the Goldenrod Suite.” She hurriedly signed the registration form and reached for the key card.
“Would you like me to call someone to help with your bags?” the clerk asked.
Joe shook his head.
“I’ve got it. Thanks.”
“You’ll find the Goldenrod Suite on the third floor at the end of the hall. Enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you,” Angie murmured. She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and, taking the lead, headed for the elevator.
They rode up in silence. Exhaustion clung to every one of her pores. As much as she wanted to fall into bed, she really wanted a bath. After that long drive, her nerves were shot. If it weren’t so late, she’d consider splurging on something alcoholic from the room’s mini-fridge.
She inserted the key card into the lock and heard the click indicating it had disengaged. She turned the knob and pushed the door in. Before she could get the lights, Joe hit them.
“It’s lovely!”
The words spilled from her lips. They stood in a cozy sitting area with two overstuffed light beige chairs parked in front of a small fireplace. A small table sat between them, upon which a small basket of fruits had been set. Green and red bows decorated the basket. On either side of the basket, two empty mugs with Christmas scenes invited images of sipping hot cocoa by the fire.
Through an archway, she spied a large bed with a comfortable white bedspread offset by gold pillows. It was gorgeous, except there was no door, and where was the second bedroom?
She pivoted. Relief washed through her as she noticed a closed door. That had to be the second bedroom. It was probably smaller, but that was all right. She preferred the privacy.
“You can have the bed over there,” Angie said, waving her hand towards the large bed. “I’ll take the smaller room.” Joe couldn’t possibly complain. She was giving him the bigger bed, after all.
She dragged her case and, twisting the knob, pushed the door open. She flipped on the light switch and her mouth dropped open.
She didn’t need to hear the snort behind her to know Joe was there. She seemed to have a sixth sense whenever he was near. Her nerve endings did the cha-cha.
“You sure you want to sleep in the tub?” Joe asked, his breath stirring the hair at the back of her neck.
Angie spun around, only to find herself nearly plastered to Joe, who stood closer than she’d expected. She took a step back, tripped on her own feet and felt herself falling backward, then a strong hand grabbed her elbow and pulled her upright.
“Careful,” Joe said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
He still had gorgeous eyes, and she so didn’t need to be gaping at him like an idiot.
“Thanks.” She slid past him to stand once more in the sitting area, searching for that elusive second bedroom.
“I’m going to take a quick shower and then hit the sack. I want to be up early to get a feel of the place.” Joe rummaged in his bag, took out a few items and then disappeared into the bathroom.
As soon as the door shut behind him, Angie scurried for the hotel phone. She punched in the number for the front desk. The clerk barely had time to say hello before Angie launched into dialogue.
“Where’s the second bed?”
“I beg your pardon?” The confused tone of the clerk broke through Angie’s panic.
Tucking a stray strand of hair that had loosened from her ponytail behind her ear, she started again.
“This is Angela Rossi from the Goldenrod Suite. There are supposed to be two beds in this room,” she hissed over the wires, her eyes darting towards the bathroom door.
“Ms. Rossi, the Goldenrod Suite is our deluxe bed and sitting area combination. It contains a king-size bed and all the amenities to make your stay comfortable. Is there a problem?”
The beginnings of a tension headache taking root, she rubbed her temple.
“Yes, there’s a problem. There’s only one bed. I need a room with two beds.”
“I’m afraid we’re completely booked this weekend. Many people have come to see Candace Plume perform in her final concert tour. We can bring a rollaway bed to the room, but that will be an additional eighty dollars charge per night.”
The tapping of fingers on a keyboard carried across the wire and Angie assumed the clerk was checking on the rollaway. Angie clenched the phone to her ear, her mind calculating her credit card that was nearly maxed out from chipping in for this family anniversary party for her grandparents, buying Christmas presents, and the cost of being a bridesmaid in Marisa’s upcoming wedding. Would tacking on an additional one hundred and sixty dollars make much difference? Come to think of it, how much extra was this suite costing her? She really needed to talk to her mother tomorrow. What had the woman been thinking?
She hated being in debt. But she couldn’t exactly ask Joe to cough up the dough. Or could she? Hmm...
“Oh dear,” the clerk said, “we’ve lent out all our rollaway beds.”
There was a pregnant pause. Angie could guess that the clerk hoped that would be the end of the conversation. She geared herself up to argue that something be done when she heard movement in the bathroom. The shower wasn’t running. Joe would probably be out any minute.
“Never mind,” Angie said quickly, hanging up as Joe opened the bathroom door.
He wiped his face and rubbed his hair with a small towel before hanging it from his neck. He wore navy sweatpants and a gray Carville PD T-shirt that showed off a nice set of chest muscles.
In bare feet, he padded over to his duffel bag.
“I thought I heard the phone.” He glanced at her over his shoulder.
“I called to ask what time breakfast is.”
The words tumbled out one over another, a habit whenever she told a fabrication. She hurried over to her own bag and pulled out a pair of pajamas. Maybe a bath would help calm her nerves and provide inspiration for the bedroom arrangements.
“So what time is it?” Joe asked.
Angie straightened and stared at him, her mind a blank.
“What time is what?”
“Breakfast,” he repeated patiently.
“Uh, in the morning,” she said and fled to the bathroom. She locked the door, dropped down on to the toilet seat and put her face in her hands.
She wasn’t going to survive the weekend.
***
While Angie took her bath, Joe prowled around the room, checking for exits and examining all the room had to offer. Besides the door that led to the hallway, there was a pair of doors that led to a balcony currently knee-deep in snow. Joe made sure both exits were securely locked.
Satisfied as to the room’s security, Joe finally took stock of his surroundings. The sitting area comprised of a comfortable arrangement of two overstuffed armchairs, separated by a small table, in front of a fireplace. A fruit basket with some red and green Christmas frills reminded him that the season was upon them, but he didn’t feel much like celebrating. If he could finally close the case that had been haunting him since university, he’d make time to join in the Christmas cheer.
Instead, he continued with his observation. The balcony doors lay to the right, and a full-screen TV hung on the wall to the left. He’d pulled the curtains to ensure their privacy.
The bedroom was reached through an arched double doorway. A king-sized bed dominated the space, looking very inviting with its plump pillows and cushiony-looking bedspread.
It hadn’t escaped his notice that there was only one bedroom in the suite. The clerk said Angie had made the change to the reservation, but she’d seemed surprised. He’d have to ask her about that later.
Clearly, he and Angie wouldn’t be sharing the bed, so he’d have to make do on the chair or the floor. He shrugged it off. He’d slept on worse.
Realizing he’d been staring too long at the bedspread, he uttered a curse under his breath. He was here on a case. Period.
He’d been lucky that Angie had let him take T.J.’s place. T.J. had said that he and Angie were just neighbors. But what if Angie felt differently? Isn’t that why she’d changed the reservation to this suite?
He scrubbed his face with his hands, exhaustion pulling at him after the long drive in the heavy snow. He needed a few hours of shut-eye if he was going to be on his game tomorrow. He also needed Angie’s cooperation. Playing the part of her boyfriend gave him cover. But if Angie had a thing for T.J...
Joe let the thought lie. He grabbed one of the pillows off the bed, and the blanket folded at the bottom, and dumped them on one of the armchairs. He then turned off the overhead light and picked up the remote control, plopping himself down on the other chair and turning on the previous night’s ice hockey game between the Rangers and the Senators that was being replayed.
He’d been resting his eyes, listening to the hockey game playing softly in the background, when he heard the click of the bathroom door. He raised one eyelid to check the clock on the corner of the TV screen. It was after two a.m. Turning his head, he opened his other eye and observed Angie coming out of the bathroom doorway in a pair of pajamas, her face shiny and clean. She began tiptoeing across the carpet.
“You don’t have to tiptoe. I’m still awake.”
Angie gave a short screech and halted. She stared at him, her eyes rounded.
“I thought you’d be asleep by now.”
Joe stood and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yeah, me too. But we should make sure we’re straight about tomorrow.”
“Oh, um...” Angie crossed her arms over her chest, appearing flustered. “Let’s talk in the morning. I’m beat and I bet you are as well.”
“Sure,” Joe agreed, though his mind really wasn’t on what she was saying. He’d gotten an eyeful of her pajamas. They were bright red with huge moose multiplied all over the front and back. If that weren’t enough, the words “Don’t moose with me,” were written over and over.
Joe grinned. He couldn’t help it. And then he started to chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” Angie scowled at him.
He swallowed the rest of his laugh and tried for a serious expression.
“Nothing. You’re right. We can talk about it in the morning. Have a good night.”
She looked confused and indecisive. She also looked adorable and, for some reason, Joe felt a lot better about his plan.
“Are you going to be okay?” Angie asked hesitantly.
Joe settled himself once more in the armchair.
“I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in much worse conditions. Get some sleep, Angie. I want to head to breakfast early.”
“If you say so.” She sounded doubtful, but he heard her move away.
He reached over to grab the blanket and caught her red-clad backside. He didn’t need to talk to Angie about T.J. He had his answer.
A woman interested in a man didn’t pack moose pajamas. She packed barely-there negligees, hoping to get lucky.
With the thought that it might be interesting to “moose” with Angie uppermost in his head, Joe closed his eyes and fell asleep.