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All the Dirty Secrets
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PRAISE FOR MARIAN LANOUETTE’S JAKE CARRINGTON THRILLERS
ALL THE DEADLY LIES
“All the Deadly Lies is a rawly rendered thriller that toes the line between feisty and fierce without ever losing its underlying sense of fun.”
—Criminal Elements
ALL THE PRETTY BRIDES
“Tense and authentic—a suspenseful page-turner!”
—Leo J. Maloney, bestselling author of the Dan Morgan thriller series
Books by Marian Lanouette
Jake Carrington Thrillers
All the Deadly Lies
All the Hidden Sins
All the Pretty Brides
All the Dirty Secrets
All the Dirty Secrets
A Jake Carrington Thriller
Marian Lanouette
LYRICAL UNDERGROUND
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
Copyright
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
LYRICAL UNDERGROUND BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2019 by Marian Lanouette
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund-raising, educational, or institutional use.
Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Sales Manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 119 West 40th Street, New York, NY 10018. Attn. Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.
Lyrical Underground and Lyrical Underground logo Reg. US Pat. & TM Off.
First Electronic Edition: May 2019
ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0481-9 (ebook)
ISBN-10: 1-5161-0481-1 (ebook)
First Print Edition: May 2019
ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0482-6
ISBN-10: 1-5161-0482-X
Printed in the United States of America
Contents
PRAISE FOR MARIAN LANOUETTE’S JAKE CARRINGTON THRILLERS
Books by Marian Lanouette
All the Dirty Secrets
Copyright
Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Acknowledgments
Sneak Peek
Chapter 1
Meet the Author
Dedication
This is book is dedicated to my “From the Cradle to the Grave” friends, Dorothy Gregory Rigano, Maureen Geronimo, and Kathy Monahan Hyams. We’ve known each other since birth and have been there for each other through thick and thin. I cherish our friendship.
Chapter 1
Sergeant Louie Romanelli donned a second pair of gloves before he dared touch anything in the rent-by-the-hour room. Squeaky beds and low moans from the adjoining rooms bled through the walls, even on a Sunday morning. Someone was getting it, but not him. He’d been called from home on his day off as a special favor for Commissioner Todd Blake. Sophia hadn’t been a happy camper when he told her he had to report in. His wife had planned a family outing for the day and now he had ruined the whole thing—yet again. The job is the job, he thought.
No, instead he’d get to spend his day in a diseased, bug-infested room, standing over the half-nude body of the commissioner’s lovely wife splayed on the bed. He had seen her only the night before, at a local charity ball she had organized. Her brilliant blue eyes had been alive then, vibrant, but had now started to fade as Callie Blake stared up at the ceiling with a vacant death gaze. Not for the first time, he wondered why this classy lady had been in this fleabag motel dressed like a hooker.
Louie turned, then strolled toward the door when a car screeched to a stop at the curb. The low murmur of the crowd that had gathered outside the scene grew louder. A mixture of pimps, hookers, and local residents with their cell phones at the ready waited to learn what had happened in room 142. Not that it was uncommon for a death to occur here. Most residents at the motel were druggies and many had overdosed inside their rooms.
He handed the evidence bag to the uniform next to him. He’d recognized the captain’s car. Louie waited for his passenger to step from the car. He swore under his breath when Commissioner Todd Blake climbed out. Why the hell did the captain bring him to the crime scene? Blake was a suspect, for God’s sake. The media vultures hovered outside the police lines, shouting questions at the captain and Blake. For pity’s sake, it’s going to be all over the news tonight that the police commissioner received special treatment.
Blake ignored the screaming media as if they weren’t there. Gwenn Langley, the reporter from Channel 5, stood off to the side, away from the herd. Gwenn placed her hand on Blake’s elbow and leaned close to whisper into his ear. From his place in the doorway of the crime scene, Louie rushed toward the pair to shelter Blake from her.
“Step back or I’ll have you removed from the scene. Gwenn, show a little respect. This isn’t the time or the place to approach the commissioner,” Louie warned.
“Louie, she’s fine, leave her alone,” Blake said.
Louie stared Langley down before shifting his gaze to Captain Shamus McGuire, who shrugged at the unasked question.
Louie cleared his throat before he spoke in a soft voice for Blake’s ears only. “Commissioner, I can’t let you on the crime scene.”
“That’s my wife in there, Sergeant. I’m going in come hell or high water. Now get the hell out of my way if you want to keep your job,” Todd shot back. The veins in his temples looked as if they were about to burst from his skin.
Louie was afraid the commissioner would have a stroke and become his next casualty. As if a pack of lions, the media moved in closer, hoping for a sound bite for tonight’s news.
“Captain…” Louie turned to Shamus, a plea in his eyes.
Commissioner Blake was his boss, but he couldn’t allow him to muddy up the evidence. If it came to trial, Blake’s lawyers would have a field day. They’d almost be guaranteed a dismissal based on compromised evidence.
Shamus grasped Blake’s arm, and whispered something to him. Louie leaned in, trying to hear, but Blake pinned Louie with a glare.
“Callie needs me, Shamus. I have to go in,” Blake said.
“I’ll walk you in…” Louie said, conceding to his captain’s judgment, but was cut off before he could finish his warning to Blake. He understood Blake’s need. He’d want to see the body and crime scene if his wife, Sophia, lay dead in there instead of Callie Blake. The thought frightened Louie, and he blessed himself to banish it.
Shamus said, “Louie, step aside. Todd’s going in for a minute, but you have to promise, Todd, afterward you’ll wait for me in the car.”
“Shamus…”
“Todd, I can’t compromise the scene. If you don’t agree to not touch anything, I’ll have to have an officer escort you from the scene.”
Blake’s eyes narrowed as he stared down Shamus. Louie watched McGuire count down the seconds before Blake agreed.
Shamus led Todd Blake from the curb, up the path lined with the shouting media, to room 142. When Louie, his captain, and the commissioner stepped into the crime scene, Louie’s team stopped what they were doing and came to attention. Blake approached his dead wife. Louie caught a few exchanging looks and behind Blake’s back, he waved off the team. At least they have the grace to drop their eyes, Louie thought. God, this is a mess. It was painful to watch when Blake dropped to his knees by Callie’s corpse. Sobs racked his body.
“Who could do this to her?”
Blake went to wipe her hair from her eyes. Louie started toward the commissioner, but Shamus pushed him away and grabbed Blake by his arm before Blake could touch Callie’s body, which was dressed in black fishnet stockings and a black see-through bustier that fit a bit loose for Callie Blake’s slender figure. There was a rip in the fabric, torn by the bullet that had entered her heart. To Louie, the crime scene seemed staged.
“I need you to go to the car, Todd,” Shamus whispered to Blake.
It pained Louie to see the commissioner this way. Blake pushed off his knees, his fists curled by his sides. He hesitated, twisting back to look one more time at his wife. Blake then squared his shoulders and left the room. Louie pointed to a uniform to escort the commissioner to Shamus’s vehicle and instructed him to keep the press out of his face. It didn’t stop the media from shouting questions at the commissioner. Louie stayed in the doorway until Blake climbed into the car.
“Do you think he’ll stay in the car?” Louie asked.
“Yes. What have you got?”
“A single bullet wound directly into the heart, but it looks like she fought before she was shot. Her knuckles are scraped up a bit. One shot, and I’d bet she died instantly, but we’ll wait for Dr. Lang to verify the cause before we give that to Blake and the press. Shamus…”
“Just tell me, Louie.”
“There are pictures by the body, of Mrs. Blake in stages of undress, posing with a man. His back’s to the camera, so it will be hard to identify him. It appears she had been carrying on with him. From what I know of Mrs. Blake, she wasn’t that type of woman, was she?” Louie asked. “Oh, and here’s the clincher. There are also a couple of nude photos of her alone.”
“No, she wasn’t that type of woman. I was afraid something like this would happen. I need to be up front with you, Louie. When we were at the gala last night, Todd told me Callie had received a blackmail letter with some pictures. The letter demanded twenty-five thousand dollars, and said they’d contact her soon.”
“Why the hell…I’m sorry, Cap, why didn’t you tell me and Jake this last night? We could’ve jumped right on it.”
“Todd wanted to wait until today. He didn’t want to ruin the gala for Callie.” Shamus pinched his nose as he evaluated the crime scene.
“Have you considered he needed time to plan this out?”
“Louie, I’ve known the man for over twenty-five years. He didn’t kill his wife. He adored her.”
“Even if she had an affair?” Playing the devil’s advocate is never a popular role, Louie thought.
“She didn’t, I know it…but I’ll keep as open a mind as I can. Don’t you worry about it.”
Christ, if I nail the commissioner for this, there goes my career.
* * * *
Lieutenant Jake Carrington had been looking forward to his trip to Vermont with his girlfriend, Mia, while out on medical leave. He’d promised her that nothing and nobody would interrupt them. In the townhouse he’d rented on the mountain, a stone fireplace dominated the great room, which blended into the kitchen, and the stairs to the right wound in a wide spiral. Jake climbed them, Mia followed behind. Together they checked out the king-size bed. He lowered his body to the bed, ignoring the shooting pain in his gut, and flashed her his biggest grin. How fast could they mess it up?
“It’s all I need, how about you?” He patted the place beside him.
“I love a fireplace in the bedroom,” Mia said. “I’ll light the fire and take the chill out of the air while you get the bags and we unpack.”
Jake took the cue and went down to the car. Five minutes later he returned with their bags, to the pleasing smell of wood burning in the fireplace.
“You’re pretty good with fire.” He locked eyes with her as she turned from the fireplace. “I’ll have to watch myself,” Jake said.
Mia pushed up from her place in front of the hearth. Jake dropped her bags on the luggage rack and placed his single bag on the desk. Sunlight played off the floral wallpaper, putting half the room in shadows. It illuminated the bed, inviting them in. She had started to unzip her suitcase and put clothes in the dresser drawers. Jake admired the back view but wanted to hold her. He came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, and then nibbled on her neck.
She tilted her head to the left as she sank into him.
“I’ve thought of this all week,” he whispered into her ear, finding the sweet spot where her pulse throbbed in her neck. “I was so afraid something or someone would sabotage this—your deadline or my job. I’m glad it didn’t.”
He turned her around to face him. Jake gently bit her lower lip and snuggled her closer to him. “I want you.”
Jake danced her to the bed as he unbuttoned her blouse and kissed his way down her neck. “My Mia,” he whispered as he fell onto the bed with her and started working off her jeans.
His breath caught in his throat when he shucked his shirt and his cell phone tumbled from the pocket. He ignored the jabbing pain from the knife wound he’d received on his last case and bent to retrieve his phone before slamming it on the nightstand, and continued to undress Mia, never taking his eyes off her.
Mia’s eyes darkened to midnight blue. He loved the change—no matter if it was with passion or anger—the color always drew him in. He started to slide her jeans from her hips when his cell phone started vibrating on the nightstand. He ignored it.
“Aren’t you going to check to see who’s calling?” Mia pushed up on her elbows.
Jake stretched his six-foot frame beside her and curled a strand of her silky black hair around his finger while leaning on an elbow. Though both had Irish ancestry, their coloring differed. Mia’s pale white skin against her black hair and blue eyes engaged him every time he looked at her.
“No. You’re all that matters in this moment.”
“Jake, everyone knows not to bother you unless it’s important. At least see who it is.”
Whoever it is, is a dead man.
He sat up, threw his legs over the edge of the bed. Only then did he pick up his phone and check the caller ID.
Damn it! Louie.
Before he’d left Wilkesbury, Connecticut, he’d stressed that no one should bother him unless someone was dying or dead.
Jake answered.
“This had better be damn good, like you need a kidney or something in the next couple of hours,” Jake snapped.
“I’m sorry to do this to you, but the commissioner wants to speak with you personally. I’ll conference him in.”
The fact that Louie
didn’t joke or jabber told Jake whatever had happened was big. Louie had been too formal. Half dressed, Mia sat up and leaned into Jake’s back, her head close to the phone to eavesdrop. He didn’t bother to untangle himself—she had a right to know what was going on. This would affect her vacation as well.
“Jake, it’s Blake.” The Wilkesbury police commissioner cleared his throat. In all the time he’d known the guy, Blake had never allowed an emotion to filter through. “My wife, Callie…”
“Commissioner, will it be easier for you if Louie fills me in?” Something was definitely wrong.
“No, no. Callie’s been murdered.” The commissioner coughed into the phone. “I need a personal favor from you and Louie. You’re the only two I trust to handle this. I want the both of you working Callie’s case.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Commissioner,” Jake said, squeezing his eyes shut. I just saw her last night at the gala. What happened? Did the commissioner kill her? No, it couldn’t be. “Commissioner, I haven’t been cleared for duty.” Jake’s hand automatically rested over the healing knife wound.
“I’ll override it. I need you and Louie on this,” Blake said.
Jake went immediately into cop mode. There was no question about what had to be done. He mimed writing on a piece of paper to Mia, hoping she understood. She jumped off the bed and shuffled through the desk drawer until she found paper and a pencil. She handed them to him. Jake took notes while Mia knelt close to his phone to listen in.
“I’m in Vermont. It will take me two hours or more to get home and another hour to drop off Mia. In the meantime, there’s no one better than Louie to process the scene.”
“I know that. But I want the both of you working it. It’s delicate. There were photos found with her body…” The commissioner’s voice faded.
“Jake, I’ll fill you in when I’m through with the commissioner,” Louie said.
Jake hung up and sat there for a second before turning to Mia. “I’m sorry. You know I need to handle this one.”
“My God, Jake, I met her last night. I liked her. What happened?”