She nodded, and watched him leave.

Chapter 31.

Vinnie stood over a kettle of boiling water. After finding a jar of Prego's Alfredo sauce in the grocery, he decided Fettuccini Alfredo would make a nice addition to Wing's menu. Since Butch wasn't interested in cooking these days, he'd do it himself. All he needed was to spoon the sauce over fat fettuccini noodles and add a ten-ninety-five price tag. Voila.

And if it didn't work, he still had firecrackers in the bas.e.m.e.nt. He'd just have to figure out a different way to get rid of them, since Angie was on a rampage about selling them from the restaurant. He didn't think she'd tell the cop, but he'd learned over the years, you just can't trust women. Not even the ones you liked. Once they opened their mouths, no telling what might come out.

When the water began to boil, he added a pound of fettuccini. The pieces were long and stuck out over the top. He smashed them down, breaking them into small bits.

He peered into the pot. The noodles were at the bottom and there was a whole lot of water to spare.

He added another pound of fettuccini. Since the parts not covered by water wouldn't cook-he'd learned that from Butch-he broke and scrunched the noodles so water covered them.

The addition of the noodles caused the water temporarily to stop boiling. He was able to see into the pot even better now. It wasn't even half full! Two more pounds went in before he had to ladle out some of the excess water so the pot wouldn't overflow. Probably, this meant a trip to the store to buy more Prego.

Finally, the kettle was filled almost to the top with noodles.

The water that was there started bubbling furiously, foaming, and boiling over the edge of the pot. He turned the flame down to get it to stop bubbling.

Eventually, it did.

Angie paced around her apartment, her nerves frayed. She tried to reach Paavo, but he wasn't at his desk, and she didn't want to bother him in the field. Connie still hadn't returned.

Angie had watched to make sure she went into the library, then watched longer to make sure she didn't pop right out again, until guilt for spying on her best friend consumed her and she went home.

The phone rang and she pounced on it.

"Miss Angie, Vinnie's tryin' to cook," Earl cried. "You gotta help."

"Vinnie? You're joking, right?"

"I wish I was. What am I gonna do?"

"I'll be right there."

Before she got to the restaurant, Connie called her on her cell phone, saying she had interesting news. They agreed to meet at Wings.

The restaurant was empty once more, Vinnie sitting at a table with a gla.s.s of red wine. Angie went straight to him.

"I heard you were cooking," she said skeptically. "Haven't we been through this once already?"

"I'm serious this time, Angie," Vinnie said. "If a bozo like Butch can do it, so can I. In fact, I got something on the stove now. It was a breeze. No funny business this time."

"It's cooking in the kitchen and you're out here?"

"It's hot in there," he complained.

"Kitchens often are," she said. "Where is Butch, by the way?"

"He was wit' his nephew last time I saw him," Earl replied. "Up in the apartment."

Just then, Connie walked in. The taxi dropped her off right in front of the restaurant.

"Thank goodness you're safe." Angie jumped to her feet. "I kept imagining things happening to you, and it being all my fault."

"Not this time," Connie said. Not exactly the ringing endors.e.m.e.nt Angie had hoped for, but it would have to do.

"I saw Max," Connie admitted, joining the others at the table.

"My G.o.d!" Angie cried. "Where is he? Did you call Paavo?" We've got to catch him."

"I don't think he did it," she said. "I think he's innocent. He had no reason to kill"-she almost said "to kill Veronica," but realized that fact was still a secret-"to do it other than hatred, and he's well over that."

"Sid Fernandez wouldn't have done anything before getting the diamonds," Angie said. "So who did?" It all came back to Dennis, she thought. She didn't want to say it here, though.

Earl and Vinnie must have read her mind, because they caught each other's eyes and looked downcast. She wondered what they might know-what she was overlooking.

"Anyway, Max told me where Veronica may have hidden the money," Connie said excitedly. "Remember the torn piece of paper we found in her room with all those numbers? Max said offsh.o.r.e accounts use codes-even longer ones than we found. Someone else must have the other half of the code. She must have been here, in the city, trying to get it. Now, we just have to figure out who has the rest of the code, get the money, give it back, and Max's problems will be over."

Just then, the smell of something burning reached them from the kitchen, followed by a loud thud.

Max had been seen at a skid-row hotel on Third Street. When Paavo and Yosh got there, the room he'd been given was empty. It looked like he wouldn't be returning.

They were headed back to Yosh's Ford when the walking split-pea-soup guy appeared. "Larry the Leprechaun at your service, Inspector Smith. I'm here to give you the keys to your dream car." He pointed at a black Corvette parked across the street.

Paavo stopped and stared at the gorgeous car, then got into the Ford and locked the door.

"I've got to stop her," he said to Yosh, a tremor in his voice. "I didn't want to. I was hoping she'd get over it on her own."

"You got to be careful not to hurt her feelings," Yosh cautioned, salivating over the car. "Remember, your partner gets to ride with you."

"This is too much."

Yosh grinned at him. "You must have told her you used to like Miami Vice. Didn't that guy drive a Corvette?"

"He sure did," Paavo said wistfully as they drove off, leaving Larry the Leprechaun standing slack-jawed in front of the car.

In no time they'd gone three blocks to another hotel, one Squire had stayed at a couple of days before. He might have returned.

When they walked into the shabby and urine-stained lobby, they found themselves in the middle of a drug deal. The dealer burst past them, hitting Paavo hard and knocking him into Yosh, who also toppled over.

They were running down the block after the dealer when Mr. Green Jeans jumped in front of Paavo. "Mister, before I can get paid, I've got to give you the d.a.m.ned car!"

Paavo didn't stop and the wayward elf flipped, head over heels, into a sidewalk trash receptacle.

Paavo and Yosh caught up to the dealer.

A paddy wagon was already on the scene before the little man came to. He stayed hidden until all the cops drove away.

Angie followed Earl and Vinnie as they ran into the kitchen. Black smoke made it hard to see. A strange white glob, like a temple of dough, jutted high over the kettle, listing to one side. The top of the temple had been broken off and lay splattered across the stovetop, part of it being barbecued by the flame from the burner. At the same time, smoke and the sharp smell of burning noodles were billowing up from the inside of the kettle.

"Turn the gas off!" Angie yelled.

Vinnie did so, then he and Earl each grabbed a potholder and one handle of the kettle. They lifted it off the stove and into the sink.

"What is it?" Angie asked curiously, looking at the peculiar lump.

"It looks like it's alive," Connie said. "Like brains, squiggly things all mooshed together."

"We ain't never had not'in' like dat on our menu before," Earl said.

"What's wrong with you people?" Vinnie cried. "It's fettucini. Why did it stick together?"

"All you have to do to cook pasta is boil it," Angie said, disgusted. "For eight or nine minutes."

"Oh. So, maybe I overcooked it a little. Is that a crime?" Vinnie asked.

"What's a crime is your cookin' anyt'ing. We gotta get Butch back to work!" Earl cried. He spun around to open some doors and vent the room, and yelled.

Dennis stepped out from the far wall. He had a gun.

"What're you doing?" Vinnie asked, his eyes wide on Dennis's gun. "Whatsa matter with you?"

"I never wanted to hurt anyone," he said. "You forced me to do this."

"You're da one who's made Butch miserable," Earl scolded. "Why'd you wanna do dat to your own uncle? He was good to you. Didn't even tell da cops what a jerk you are!"

"Will you guys just shut up?" Dennis yelled. Angry tears glistened in his eyes. "I didn't do anything. Don't you get it yet? It was Veronica. She ruined everything. My football career, my plans for a sports bar, my life. All I needed was some of her d.a.m.ned money. My share, plus a little more to borrow, to get me out of debt and back on my feet. Do you know how expensive it is to live like a football star? To live the way everyone expects? And now my contract isn't being renewed. All my dreams, everything I've ever worked for, it's all finished. Give me the code, Angie."

"Where's Butch?" Vinnie asked, as the four of them slowly eased backward.

"He's upstairs in the apartment. I came down the back way and was going to cut through the restaurant to leave when I heard you talking. I need that code, then I'll get out of here." His voice was desperate.

"You have the other half of the paper?" Angie asked from behind Earl. "Why?"

"I...I saw her working in Max's office and we started talking. I knew a bit about the offsh.o.r.e accounts. We set one up for me-just to see if it'd work. I had no idea she'd go so far...

"In the end, I couldn't say anything about her because if word got out that I'd taught her anything, even though I was innocent, my career would be over. But also, if she said anything to the authorities about me, I'd tell where the money was. So she kept quiet, and so did I. Then, she came back here, expecting I'd give her my part of the code. She wanted nearly all the money, saying it was payment for the three years she did. But I needed it! I needed it more than she did!"

"You didn't ask how we got the code," Angie said quietly. "That must mean you know Veronica's dead."

He froze, searching Angie's face to see if this was another sick joke. "She's dead?" he whispered.

They said nothing, and the truth hit him hard. His whole body went limp, the hand holding the gun dropped to his side. "She can't be. Not Veronica. How? What happened to her?"

"Someone shot her," Angie said, studying him.

He shook his head. "Who did it?" His voice was thick with emotion.

"We don't know," Angie said.

"El Toro," Dennis whispered. "That b.a.s.t.a.r.d! I warned her!" Tears glistened in his eyes.

"He killed his partner, Julius Rodriguez, thinking Julius and Veronica scammed him out of the diamonds," Connie said. "But he didn't kill her-he wanted the diamonds too much to kill her before retrieving them."

"Then who?" Dennis demanded. His face drawn, he seemed genuinely heartbroken over Veronica's death.

"You knew Veronica," Angie cried. "Who else did she con? That's the murderer!"

"But that means it's someone who didn't take the money or the diamonds," Dennis said. "It doesn't make sense."

"It does," Angie said slowly, testing the theory, "if she was killed out of pa.s.sion. Because of betrayal, not for wealth. Look at the reactions she's caused in you and Max. She knew how to wrap men around her finger-she acted on pure gut emotion, and the reaction she solicited was the same."

"You're right," Connie said. "What men did she know? Who was close to her?"

Angie tried to think of every man Paavo had ever mentioned who knew Veronica. Max...Dennis...Fernandez...Julius...Butch...

"Oh, my G.o.d!" Angie said. "I know who it is. I've got to call Paavo. He might be in danger!"

Chapter 32.

While Yosh went back to the flophouse to check on Max's whereabouts, Paavo headed in the opposite direction across town. In lavish Sea Cliff, he walked up to the door of Pagozzi's home, rang the bell, and knocked, but there was no answer.

He stepped out of the front entry to see if he could get to the back door, or if there was any sign of movement in the house, when he saw a figure in jeans and a brown jacket dart from behind a hedge to scramble over a wooden gate to the side yard.

Paavo sprinted after him. The backyard was small, as is typical of even the most luxurious city homes, and the runner realized he had no escape there. One yard backed up to another, and another after that.

He raised his hands and turned around.

"We meet at last." Paavo's gun was drawn.

"You must be Angie's fiance," Max said. "She talks about you incessantly."

"She does the same about you," Paavo replied, "trying to convince me I was wrong about your guilt, or trying to convince Connie that she was wrong about your innocence."

"I haven't done anything wrong here," Max said. "Except that I didn't want to be seen."