4. Chapter 4
four
L ina noted Curtis’ reaction with a frown. His face had turned to ash at the mention of Rocco Stiletto’s death. She watched him move to the sink and splash his face with cold water. He stood there, hunched over the sink, dripping with his fists hard on the stone surface. She could tell he was channeling some potent emotion through those fists from the tensed muscles in his arms and shoulders.
She wondered what was going through his head. Was it shock? Relief? Or anger?
Say something, Lina.
She never knew what to say when someone might need emotional support. In need of recon, protection, a bail-out strategy? She’d be your girl, but this?
What would Marcus say if she was out of sorts?
He’d probably tell Lina to snap out of it, but he’d also show her he was there for her but not in so many words.
Grabbing a dish towel that was hanging on the dishwasher handle, she went to Curtis and offered it to him. He looked at the towel, then at her. She just waited until he took it. While he was drying himself, she looked for a glass and filled it with cool water.
“You have enough caffeine. Try this,” she urged.
Curtis drank half of the water and took a deep breath. He leaned against the island, looking a bit more settled, but his eyes were still troubled.
“What does this mean?” he asked.
“It means there’s no trial. You don’t have to testify anymore,” she answered plainly.
He released a heavy sigh. “What a waste.”
Lina tilted her head in question. “What is?”
“These deaths. They were so young, Lina,” he said. “Do you know what I was doing at their age? I was working a job I hated, but I was full of dreams. I just wanted to play music. These kids…”
Looking thoughtful, he said their names, “Sean, Rocco…they had a whole life in front of them, wasted over a girl.”
“Is that what happened?” Lina probed, feeling he needed to get it off his chest.
“Rocco was screaming about Sean touching some girl,” he said. “I’ve seen what an actual monster could do to a person, but those guys were practically kids. What the fuck happened to them that their first impulse was to impale someone?”
Lina couldn’t respond. She’d seen what humans—regular men and women—were capable of when they were desperate enough. She looked at her own hands and saw the invisible dirt and blood on them. She knew she was capable of taking a life when someone she loved was in danger.
“Sorry,” Curtis suddenly said, straightening to his full height. “You didn’t come here to hear me break down over two people killing each other. You must be thinking, What a pussy .”
He turned abruptly to walk away, but Lina quickly stopped him. “I don’t think that at all. I think it’s admirable that you can feel this much empathy toward a couple of strangers whose deaths most people would consider as good riddance.
“If more people had your outlook, perhaps kids like Rocco Stiletto and Sean Murphy wouldn’t feel they were stuck in the families they were born into and only had one path to live,” she finished.
“It doesn’t matter, though, does it? Even if Rocco was still alive, my testimony would’ve led him to a life in prison. It would’ve been justice—he had to pay for what he did—but still another life wasted.”
Curtis looked at her with such regret in his eyes. It’d been a couple of years since she’d seen him, but he’d always been the type of man who didn’t let life bring him down. This Curtis Bisset wasn’t a pussy, but he wasn’t the man she’d gotten to know, either. She didn’t know why she felt the need to chase that cloud away from his eyes, but again, she didn’t know what else to say.
“Curtis—” Lina tried to come up with something when a whiff of something unpleasant tickled her nose. She scrunched her nose and felt a prickle at her nape.
Curtis’ brow rose at her change of demeanor. “What is it? You have your alert face. You only have that look when you feel something might be amiss.”
Once again, he surprised her with his knowledge of her. First the tea. Now he also recognized a look she had?
Never mind that. Focus, Lina.
“Do you smell that?” Lina asked.
“Yeah.” He suddenly looked annoyed and beelined to a trash receptacle built into the kitchen cabinet. As he opened it, he mumbled, “Of all the things to be alarmed about, you worry about my trash?”
“I don’t think it’s your trash.” She went to where he stood looking confused at a mostly empty bin. The smell didn’t come from there.
“Maybe something died in the wall,” Curtis said, sniffing the air. “Shit.”
The hair on the back of Lina’s neck really stood up this time. She trusted her instinct and followed the stench, which became stronger as she got closer to a medium box stuck under one of the island stools. She got down to one knee to confirm her suspicion.
It ’ s definitely something dead.
Putting on her leather gloves, she brought up the box and set it on the island.
“What is that?” Curtis frowned, then remembered. “Ah yeah, that was at my door last night when Jill and I came in. But we were…ah, in the middle of something. I kinda just kicked it in.”
Lina heard but didn’t acknowledge Curtis’ explanation. Her focus was on the box. The smell was definitely coming from it. She examined the box. There was no marking of a sender’s name or a delivery service other than Curtis’ name and address on one flap. And there was no other sign that made her think it was something more than what she suspected.
She took her pocketknife from the inside of her jacket and was about to slice open the duct tape sealing the box.
“Whoa, should you do that?” Curtis reached a hand toward her.
Lina threw him a warning look that he understood. He backed off and waited as she cut the box open. The foul reek that wafted out made Curtis gag and fall back even farther. She had smelled worse things, but the sight of a dead rat stabbed with a stiletto in the heart was still a disturbing sight, even to her.
“Call the police,” she said evenly.
Curtis sat on the couch, hunched—his eyes unfocused on the rug. He knew Detective Bolts was talking, but his words didn’t penetrate Curtis’ mind as the events of the past hour swirled in his head.
After seeing the content of the box Lina had opened, he’d barely been able to hold in the contents of his stomach, let alone call the police as she’d instructed. It wasn’t the dead rat itself, but the shock of it.
Lina, on the other hand, was a rock. She’d closed the box and, after seeing his face, told him to take a shower and get ready. He must’ve just stood there like an idiot because, after removing her gloves and jacket, she’d gently taken him up the stairs to his bedroom loft.
“Take a breather. A warm shower will calm your nerves,” she’d told him, her voice surprisingly soothing. Her arm around his back was steadying. “I’ll take care of it,” she’d promised before she closed the door behind her.
She was right. Freshly showered and dressed, he’d felt somewhat normal. But when he’d heard voices below, he realized nothing was normal. Detective Bolts had arrived with another detective from the major crimes unit whose name he didn’t remember. They were both now staring down at him as if he understood what was going on.
“Yeah. Go-bag’s in the office. Thanks, Marcus,” Lina’s voice talking on the phone pierced Curtis’ daze. The couch shifted as she sat next to him. Her next words addressed the detectives. “Like I told you earlier, Curtis knows nothing about the box. He found it by his door last night, kicked it in, and didn’t notice it again until we smelled something foul.”
“You didn’t smell that last night?” The older detective questioned in disbelief. “A dead rat?”
The box in questioned had been sealed in an evidence bag, but both detectives had seen and smelled the content.
“I was preoccupied last night,” Curtis finally said something. “I barely smelled anything until Lina said something earlier.”
“It was tightly sealed,” Lina added.
“Were you with Mr. Bisset last night?” Detective Bolts questioned Lina.
“No. I arrived at nine-fifty-five this morning to check on Mr. Bisset because of the recent development,” she answered. “Look, detectives. We know what that box is supposed to mean. It’s a threat against my client. Instead of questioning him, why don’t you figure out the mole in your department? Marcus told me he made sure only a select few knew Curtis’ name, but somebody must’ve leaked it. How else could the Stilettos find out about him?”
Detective Bolts looked insulted by Lina’s direct question but couldn’t argue.
“Miss Cheung, we can’t be sure this is the work of the Stilettos—”
“You mean the rat stabbed with a stiletto knife isn’t obvious enough?” Lina jeered. “Come on, Detective Durham, you know what happened. The Stilettos knew someone ID’d Rocco for Sean Murphy’s death. The dead rat was meant to scare my client from testifying against him.”
“Well, there won’t be a trial now that Rocco’s dead,” Detective Bolts said.
“Yup. Can’t prove it yet, but bet your ass it was payback for Sean. This whole thing is going to blow up,” Detective Durham sighed. “Listen, Mr. Bisset, I don’t think you’re in danger. The Stilettos will focus on the Murphys now. But while we figure this out, it might be a good idea for you to get out of the city for a while. We can arrange for protection.”
Curtis didn’t hear confidence in Detective Durham’s voice, and apparently neither did Lina.
“Like you protected his identity from getting out?” Lina deadpanned. “I’ll take care of Mr. Bisset. You better figure out if there is still a threat against my client’s safety. You and I both know what kind of person Serafina Stiletto is, detectives. That box arrived yesterday before someone shivved Rocco to death. It was a warning. Now that her son is dead, I worry about what that will do to a mother as dangerous as Serafina is.”
The detectives didn’t look happy being dressed down by a woman. From the way they regarded Lina, Curtis suspected they knew Lina’s military background. But she was now a civilian and a private contractor. She had no authority over them, but they knew she had a point. Curtis got a chill just listening to it all.
“We’ll do our best.” Detective Durham stood. “Just get him out.”
“Marcus will be in touch with you,” Lina informed him. It wasn’t a request.
Begrudgingly, Durham nodded, then the two detectives left with the box.
Lina didn’t waste any time. She turned to Curtis and told him, “Pack a bag. Light. Bring your passport just in case. Our ride will be here in ten minutes.”
“What? Where are we going?” He looked at her, confused. Everything felt surreal. He still couldn’t process what was happening.
“Curtis.” Her voice was firm and sharp this time. “You need to snap out of it. I know this is a lot, but I need you with me. Do you understand?”
Curtis blinked at the reprimand. The seriousness on her face made him straighten his spine. He nodded.
“Go,” she ordered.
Without another word, Curtis went up and threw some clothes into a duffel bag without thinking about what he was packing. He didn’t need much. He was done in five minutes and was about to go back down when he remembered something. He grabbed it before meeting Lina by the front door, already in her coat.
He grabbed his own leather jacket. “Ready.”
She eyed the duffel for a mere second but frowned at his guitar case.
“I don’t travel anywhere without at least one of my guitars,” he said.
She didn’t argue. “Let’s move.”