Roast Mortem - By Cleo Coyle Page 0,108

to establish an alibi.”

Matt frowned. “I don’t know, Clare, that scenario’s a little out there, don’t you think? And it’s not very smart. Wouldn’t a drug be detected in Noonan’s autopsy?”

“So what if it was? As long as the cause of death matches the manner of suicide, what difference does it make if James had a drug in his system? The case for murder is pretty thin with Val confirming her husband’s depression—not to mention that suicide note.” I shook my head. “The scenario I described isn’t out there. It’s ingenious.”

“But what if Ryan Lane isn’t the one who helped this Fairfield woman?”

“Well, if he didn’t, then I’m sure he won’t have any trouble telling a grand jury who did.”

Matt thought it over. “Okay, let’s do something about this. Get on the phone. Call—”

I heard a meaty smack. Matt’s body went limp and fell against me. I stumbled, caught myself, but couldn’t stop my ex’s heavy form from sagging to the floor.

“Matt!”

“Shut up or I’ll hit you, too.”

One end of a Halligan tool now loomed in front of my face. I saw dried blood on it, pieces of hair. The other end of that gruesome object was in Ryan Lane’s right hand. His left was pointing a gun at me.

I lifted my gaze, met his stare.

Ryan tossed the fireman’s tool on the table and threw a bundle of rope at me. “Tie him up.”

THIRTY-EIGHT

“HE’S bleeding,” I said. “He needs a doctor!”

Ryan aimed the gun at Matt’s head. “He’ll be dead if you don’t tie him up. Anyway, I didn’t whack him nearly as hard as I hit the captain.”

I bit back a curse and began to tie the rope—loosely. Ryan caught me. “Tighter, honey. If he gets free before I leave, he’s dead. And so are you.”

“You’re going to kill us anyway.”

“Not at all!” Ryan’s deceptively boyish face lit up with a grin. “I just want you indisposed while Josie and I get out of the country. After we’re gone, I don’t care what happens to you.”

Ryan sniffed the air. “Mmm . . . coffee. The aroma is magnificent down here”—he took a deep breath—“gives me a jones, you know?”

“Let’s go upstairs. I’ll pull you a fresh espresso.”

Ryan wiggled his gun like a naughty finger. “Nice try, Ms. Cosi, but I’m going to have to wait until I get to Williamsburg. There’s a great little all night spot off the bridge. Then I’ll pick up Josephine, who thinks we’re going on a short business trip, and we’re off on a private jet to . . . well, as long as Josie’s with me, it’ll be paradise . . .”

That’s when I knew. “Josephine Fairfield isn’t involved in any of this, is she?”

“No. She isn’t.”

“Then why did I find her glove outside of Michael Quinn’s apartment? Did she go there last night to throw herself at him?”

“No. After we left the pub and Josie passed out in her limo, I grabbed her glove and planted it there.”

“Why?”

“In case the lady gets homesick. You see, Josie didn’t embezzle millions of dollars from her company. That’s on me. But if the police suspect she attacked her old lover, well, that’s one more nail in her coffin. And once she understands that nothing but prison time awaits her here, she’ll be all too happy to keep the bed warm in my new hacienda.”

Oh my God . . . This guy is Glenn Duffy in a buttoned-down shirt. Deluded, lovesick, willing to do anything to obtain a woman . . . one who obviously wants someone else.

When I finished tying Matt, Ryan checked the ropes. “Okay, your turn.”

I resisted, but Ryan didn’t threaten me, he hit me with the gun. I bounced off the floor, and he flipped me over like a steer at a rodeo. He placed his foot on the small of my back while he bound my wrists tightly, then roped my ankles together. When he was done, I struggled against the bonds.

“I like to be thorough, Ms. Cosi.”

“Were you being thorough when you killed James Noonan?” I spat.

“I thought so.”

“What about the captain?”

Lane sighed. “He was my biggest problem. When James told me the captain obtained evidence of my little switch on the production line, I knew I had to pay the man a visit.”

“So you broke into his apartment and ambushed Michael with his own Halligan tool.”

“The captain didn’t have all the documents in his apartment, but—lucky for me—I found a copy of his brother’s cover letter stapled to this—”

Ryan

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