Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [96]
“Then we have to face the music,” I said.
“What?” he snapped.
A sudden sense of fatalistic calm washed over me. “You’ve got to enter that evidence into the investigation. You didn’t destroy it, did you? So take it to work and say that you found it at the scene and something happened that distracted you, so you pocketed it without realizing it, and now you’re—”
“And as soon as Napoli finds out whose phone number is written on this note, he’ll know I’m lying,” Lopez said dismissively.
“Of course he will. But he’ll also know that, after you took the note, you came to your senses and brought it right back.” When Lopez didn’t respond, I said, “Or if you don’t like that plan, then go back to Vinny’s wine vault and leave the note there for someone else to find. You’re a cop, you must know how to plant evidence.” After a moment, I said, “That came out wrong.”
But his attention was suddenly on a different matter. “How do you know the hit happened in the vault? We haven’t released that information.”
I had seen enough episodes of Crime and Punishment to recognize the implication. “We didn’t kill Danny!”
“Gracious, no!” Then Max remembered he wasn’t supposed to speak. “My apologies.”
Lopez blinked. “For not killing Danny Dapezzo?”
My cell phone rang, making us all jump.
“You know we’re not killers,” I said as I went over to the table where my purse was lying.
“Don’t answer that,” Lopez said.
“I have to. It could be my agent,” I said. “At long last.”
“This late?” he said doubtfully.
“Maybe,” I said. “We’ve been having trouble connecting and this is important.”
“This is more important, Esther.”
“I’m trying to get an audition for something specific,” I said, opening my purse. “There’s very little time left.” In fact, I was afraid Thack was calling me to say it was too late by now, the part had already been cast.
“We’re talking about murder and concealing evidence,” Lopez said sharply.
The ringing persisted.
“The only reason I’m involved in this mess in the first place,” I said, searching my purse for the phone, “is because I was waiting tables when Charlie Chiccante died instead of working a real job. So I would think that you, of all people, would appreciate how important it is that I get this audition!”
The door bells chimed. I froze briefly as I thought about Corvino assassins again, then relaxed when I heard Lucky’s voice.
“Hey, has the Doc got some plastic bags or something?” he called. “Our favorite familiar left her calling card on the sidewalk.”
Nelli growled.
Lopez turned toward the sound of Lucky’s voice. “Jesus, Esther, please tell me that’s not who I think it is.”
“Hey, don’t growl at me,” Lucky admonished the dog. I heard the metallic click of him unhooking her leash. “You’re the one who . . . Nelli?”
I found my ringing phone in my purse, pulled it out, and looked at the LCD panel. Not Thack. Damn. The readout said “Caller Unknown.” I didn’t recognize the number.
Nelli’s toenails clicked on the floor as she trotted around the bookcase, still growling. She froze when she saw Lopez, her body tense, her floppy ears pricked alertly.
I flipped open my phone and raised it to my ear.
Nelli’s lips peeled back in a snarl, exposing her big, sharp teeth, and she crouched down on her massive haunches, letting out a ferocious growl.
Shocked, I dropped my phone. It fell to the floor with a clatter. “Nelli!” I said. “Stop that!”
Lopez looked at Max. “You got a vicious dog the size of a taxi cab? You really are out of your mind.”
Lucky appeared behind Nelli and said to her, “Hey! What’s with you?”
“Lucky Battistuzzi,” Lopez said with resignation. “Great. Just great.”
“Nelli, no!” I said, as the dog crept menacingly toward Lopez, still growling, her fangs bared. “Max, make her stop that.”
“That does it,” Lopez said, holding very still. “I’m having this dog impounded.”
“I don’t get it,” Lucky said to Lopez. “Kids in the street can walk right up to this dog, no problem. But one whiff of you, and . . .” He drew in a sharp breath.
I heard