Lloyd Corricelli - Ronan Marino 01 - Two Redheads & a Dead Blonde by Lloyd Corricelli Page A

have been from the beginning.”
    “You’re right and if I had handled it personally, it would have, but I was tied up on other business. What about the guys who kicked your ass?”
    “They might have been cops or ex-cops the way they took my cuffs off. I was half unconscious and laying on my face. It’s hard to say.”
    “We should have you look through some mug shots. You never know.”
    Sitting in a little room with no windows searching through the scumbag yearbooks for days didn’t sound appealing. Lowell had surely upgraded to the computerized system by now, but I felt it was still going to be a long, generally worthless endeavor.
    “Uh yeah, I could do that when I feel up to it. My vision is still a bit blurry from the concussion.”
    “Of course it is,” Shea replied somewhat sarcastically. 
    “So what are your guys doing now?”
    “Eating a lot of donuts and drinking a lot of coffee. Now that you’re involved, I was hoping you might find something they could build on.”
    “You gotta’ have someone better than Morley you can put on this.”
    “I am tapped out, my friend. We’ve got shit going on in this city you don’t even want to know about.”
    “Should I send you a bill when I’m done?”
    “I figured you’d be doing this pro bono due to the personal nature.”
    “Well, yeah you figured right. The last couple of days slowed me down but I plan on getting back on track this afternoon. I’m going to talk to some of her girlfriends. Maybe there’s a disgruntled ex out there somewhere.”
    “The way she looked, there’s probably a whole string of disgruntled ex’s.”
    “It wasn’t just her looks, Gary. She had an incredible personality, too.”
    “A rare combination. Most pretty girls don’t have to work at it.”
    “No, but it came natural to her.”
    Just thinking about it hurt. I would have changed the subject, but it was time for business.
    “The Sun didn’t say anything about the syringe or drugs. You holding that card for any reason?”
    “It could be useful later down the line. Besides, why sully the girl’s reputation? From everything we know about her, she was a model student and citizen.”
    “Model students have been known to do drugs,” I said.
    “Did you?”
    “I was never a model student.”
    “That’s right. I seem to remember a certain former student coming to my class pretty well soused and falling out of your chair in the middle of my lecture.”
    “Not my fault the university gave me six hours between classes. I had to find something to keep me occupied.”
    “Twelve ounces at a time, huh?”
    “Sixteen. I like the big, shiny cans.”
    “Yeah, don’t we all,” he said and stood. “I have to get going. Keep me in the loop and try not to get your ass kicked again. You have a license to carry?
    “Yup.”
    “Good. Just don’t shoot anyone in city limits. Maybe do it up in Westford. Your brother could use the experience.”
    “He’d shit himself.”
    I opened my front door, and there was a black Lincoln sedan with dark tinted windows sitting parked in the driveway. Shea eyed it suspiciously.
    “Expecting more company?”
    “No, but it looks like family. You know how they can be.”
    “My wife’s family loves to pop in unannounced, drink all my beer and eat all my food,” he said.
    “Bastards.”
    “Exactly. Keep in touch.”
    We shook hands and he walked down to his vehicle, a rust-colored Ford Crown Victoria missing a hubcap. He stopped momentarily, looked over the Lincoln and got into his car and drove off. Once he was out of sight, my favorite uncle, Salvador Marino, stepped out of the backseat of the Lincoln and brushed himself off. Visiting hour was to continue at Ronan’s house.
    Dressed head to toe in black, with a long wool coat and leather gloves, Uncle Sal made his way up the walk, carrying a box of pastry and an unsliced loaf of scali bread bigger than my head. Both would be fresh and direct from the North End of Boston. I strained