Rohn Federbush - Sally Bianco 01 - The Legitimate Way Read Online Free PDF Page A

schoolmates. Not bad work. They could keep those cards and letters coming. Then her stomach hurt. Mary Jo’s life did not sound like a bed of roses. Sally sent her good thoughts to the missing woman and called Robert Koelz. “Is Andrew with you?” Sally asked Robert.
    When Andrew took the receiver, Sally told him to contact the St. Charles police department, ask for Art Woods, and have Ricco Cardonè’s arrest record faxed to the Ann Arbor police station.
    “No word yet,” Andrew answered Sally’s unasked question about Mary Jo’s call.
    “I don’t understand why she told Robert they tried to reconcile. Mary Jo fled a case here in St. Charles, over a month ago. I think Ricco might have harmed her and planned to shift the blame on Robert.”
    “Me too,” Andrew said. “Keep digging for us.”
    “I don’t intend to find a body, Andrew.”
    “You know what I mean.” Andrew Sites never appreciated a sense of humor, but Sally could imagine the grin under Robert’s grey moustache as he recognized her probable reply.
    ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
    John Nelson opened the front door of Mary Jo and Ricco Cardonè’s split-level home. Apple-and-cinnamon room deodorizer scent wafted outdoors as they entered. “You might want to open some windows while we’re here, to let in some fresh air,” Sally suggested.
    “Good idea,” he said. “Take a look around.”
    “Did you sign the deal with Mary Jo or Ricco?”
    “The sales agreement carries both their signatures,” John said, defensively.
    “Mary Jo signed in front of you?”
    “No,” John rubbed that glistening head of his. “Ricco said she had to be out of town so she signed the agreement before she left.”
    “You know her handwriting?”
    “Actually, no. I was hoping to see her at the closing, when the house sells. So far, people haven’t taken to the house.”
    Sally could understand why, but she didn’t want to discourage John. Scars and telltale signs of a violent environment were everywhere. A missing piece in the frame of a starving-artist oil over the fireplace was complemented by a pair of antique lanterns with the glass missing in one. She caught up to John in the master bedroom. “Do most of your clients know the history of the couple selling?”
    “I’m not sure. They don’t bring it up, but I notice them pointing out the obvious.” He shut the bedroom door, to show Sally a fist size hole bashed into the back of it. “Must have broken his fist on that one.”
    “How long has the house been on the market?”
    “A little less than a month,” John said. “I don’t hear from Ricco very often, but Mary Jo called once to check on the possibility of a sale and if her belongings were still in the attic.”
    “Does Ricco ask about the storage items?” Sally hoped she was on to something.
    “He’s never mentioned them.”
    Sally came clean. “John, a friend of mine in Ann Arbor is accused by Ricco Cardonè of murdering his wife. He claims my friend, Robert Koelz, was the last to see Mary Jo alive. I came to town to try to clear his name. Could I go through Mary Jo’s personal effects?” Sally purposefully selected those evocative terms to imply Mary Jo might be dead; although she hoped with all her heart Mary Jo was very much alive, even on her back in some lover’s arms, just not dead, not a cause for Robert to be jailed for the rest of his life.
    “I’ll help you,” John said eagerly, the dear.
    Access was gained to the attic by a pull-down ladder in a guest bedroom’s closet. The attic sported dormer windows, which they quickly opened for fresh air. A trunk, four huge, cheap pieces of luggage, and about twenty cardboard boxes were in the farthest reaches from the attic’s entrance. Sally’s first thought was that Ricco might not even know the attic storage area items existed. Her hands and hairline started to sweat and she felt the unusual at her age, yet familiar heat-flash symptoms start to overwhelm her. “John,” she whined.