Chapter 3
Three
Two weeks later
Another day, another crime scene. Michael looked around at the mess of the cramped dry cleaner/laundromat’s lobby and stood the tipped-over garbage can back in its place. It was one small thing he could make right, even if nothing else about the scene made sense.
Like they needed any more open cases and unanswered questions.
The only necklace they’d recovered from the mall burglary two weeks ago was the one Stitch found, and there was still no sign of Gary Donner.
The blood-test results weren’t back yet either.
Even the surveillance video had been a bust, conveniently cutting out before the break-in.
“What do you think?” Finn closed his notebook and walked over, his feet crunching on broken glass from the front window.
“I dunno. A dry cleaner’s business is a weird place to vandalize. Doesn’t even look like they took anything. Just busted the display window in the laundromat portion.”
“Yeah.” Finn dropped his voice. “And if the owner knows anything, she’s not speaking up. Makes me think she’s got an idea of who did this or why.”
The petite woman with gray hair only spoke broken English. She stared at them from the other side of the small waiting area for a moment and then grabbed a broom from behind the counter.
“You get anything out of her?” Michael asked.
“Just that her name’s Mrs. Barbu, she didn’t see anything, and she needs to wait for her daughter to help translate.
” Finn studied the room. “But being such a small place, I have a hard time believing she didn’t see the car or the people responsible.
Doesn’t make a ton of sense to bust a window in the middle of the day.
What were they going to steal? Laundry?”
Desperate people didn’t always follow logic. Look at his own mother’s case.
Outside, another South Eagle police vehicle pulled up. Great. Detectives Ives and Morozov arrived.
Morozov’s mustache twitched as he surveyed the room. He was known around the station as gruff and liked to throw his weight around, but he also closed cases. Still, Michael always felt a little sorry that Rebeccah Ives, the newest to make detective, had to be stuck with him as a partner.
“Any witnesses?” Morozov didn’t even bother to look at Michael as he walked past.
“The owner there says she was in the back when it happened. Says she doesn’t know anything, but we’re waiting for her daughter to arrive and help translate.”
“Probably a hate crime. We’ll take over the interview since your shift is almost over. You and Finn check the other places across the street and the rest of the block before you go. See if anyone in this run-down neighborhood has a security camera that caught anything.”
Morozov walked right up to the woman and flashed his badge.
Finn rolled his eyes. “I guess we’re dismissed, huh?”
“Don’t get me started. Let’s see if the other places on this block saw anything.”
The small Mexican bakery next door was already closed for the day, and the smoke shop on the other side was a bust. They were about to enter a used bookstore when Michael’s phone rang.
Pops.
Why was he calling during his work hours? His pediatric clinic was too busy to be calling for a friendly chat. Gabe and Raphael should still be at football practice. Had one of them been hurt? Or maybe something had happened with one of the girls? All the worst-case scenarios ran through his brain.
“Sorry, I gotta take this, Finn. It’s my dad.”
“No problem. I’ll get started here.” Finn walked into the store, leaving him on the sidewalk alone.
“Pops? Everything okay?” Michael plugged his other ear to hear better.
“Your shift is over, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Good. I need you to go down to the restaurant.” His father’s voice was even and steady. Nothing alarming.
Then again, he was a doctor. He knew how to deliver bad news without inciting panic.
“Did anything happen to the kids? Everything at the clinic okay?”
“Your brothers are fine. They’re at football. Frankie will pick them up.”
“And the other girls?” His other sisters should all be working too.
“They’re all okay. I just need you to go to the restaurant.
It’s urgent.” At the word urgent, Michael shoved open the door and gestured to Finn.
Martinelli’s Fine Italian Dining had been in the family for three generations.
It was practically a second home with the amount of time Michael had spent there with his grandparents.
The day-to-day operation fell to his aunt and uncle these days.
“Pops, what’s going on? Are Zio Pete and Zia Rose all right?” Michael covered up the speaker of his phone and whispered to his partner. “We gotta go. Family stuff.”
Finn nodded. “Nothing here anyway. Let’s go.”
His father’s voice overlapped Finn’s. “Just get there, Mike. They need you.”
No need to say anything more. Michael rushed to their department vehicle.
Finn called in to Ives while Michael drove downtown and parked in front of Martinelli’s Fine Italian Dining. He dashed inside but stopped short at the hostess stand where his cousin Arianna stood grinning.
“What’s wrong? Why are you smiling?” Michael looked around for whatever the emergency was.
The black tabletops were set for the dinner service with crisp white linens.
It was early for supper, yet a few tables were occupied.
Still, nothing out of the ordinary. Usually the aroma of Uncle Pete’s pesto, the fragrant basil and garlic would have Michael salivating for his favorite dish, but right now he just needed to make sure his family was safe.
“Michael, here!” Aunt Rose stood in the kitchen doorway and frantically waved him back.
He sprinted over and was quickly ushered into the small office. Aunt Rose closed the door and shoved a hanger of clothes at him.
“Where’s the danger?” Michael looked at the clothes. “And why is my favorite dress shirt here and not hanging in my closet where I left it?”
“Your jeans and shoes are there on the chair too. Change quickly.”
“Why am I changing?” None of this was making sense.
“She’ll be here any minute.” Aunt Rose reached for the doorknob. “I’ll stall.”
She? His father used the word “urgent,” but something in his aunt’s face told him Michael wouldn’t necessarily see this situation in the same light.
“Zia…” Michael slapped a hand on the door and pushed it closed where she had it cracked open.
“I’m not doing anything until someone explains to me what exactly is going on. Where’s the danger?”
“Your father didn’t tell you?” Zia Rose may widen her eyes and look innocent, but that didn’t mean anything.
Michael leaned against the door and blocked her escape. “Spill it, Auntie.”
She threw her hands up. “Aye, aye, you’re worse than the girls, just get dressed and get ready for your date!”
“What date?”
“The date your father set up for you. A new nurse from the clinic will be here any second. You don’t want to be rude and keep her waiting. And we all know how you feel about being late.”
“Why in the world is Pops setting me up on a blind date?”
Now it was Zia Rose’s turn to drill him with a stare.
“Seven children. He has seven children, including you as the oldest at almost thirty years old, yet not a single one of you is married or even in a serious relationship.” She threw her hands up in the air.
“The man has to take drastic measures if any of you are going to move out and start your own families. He wants grandchildren! Can you blame him?”
“This is because he wants me to move out?” Michael had only moved back in after Mom died to help. There was no way Pops could’ve handled it all. “He could’ve just said something.”
Rose’s stare melted into one of pity. She laid warm, motherly hands on both his cheeks. “It’s not about moving out. It’s about moving on.”
Ah. This again. Why couldn’t Pops understand? How was he supposed to simply “move on” from his mother’s murder? She deserved justice. She deserved answers. They all did. Whoever was responsible for her death was still out there. In his city. That wasn’t something Michael could ignore or forget.
Zia Rose stepped back and gestured to his clothes and shoes on the chairs. “Now, let’s not keep Sage waiting, huh?”
“Sage?”
“The nurse.”
Before Michael could say anything else, she was gone. With a long sigh, he pulled out his phone and texted Finn that he could leave. The last thing Michael wanted was his partner witnessing an awkward emergency-slash-blind date. He’d never hear the end of it.
The thought of some poor woman walking into all this was the only reason Michael followed his aunt’s instructions and was soon sitting in a corner booth, dressed in street clothes.
He could at least treat his date to the best Italian food in Renegade before he set the record straight that he was not looking to resuscitate his long-departed love life.
He’d done the whole dating thing with Sierra, even tried to be a father figure for her son, Huck.
He’d done all the right things and still ended up nowhere. Why put himself through more heartache?
The window on his right had a clear view of the downtown street, not to mention sight lines to the entrance of the restaurant and a broad scope of the room. The dim light was meant to set a romantic mood, but all he could see was how it created shadows and blind spots.
Outside the city, the Renegade Mountains loomed tall and proud.
Already, the autumn sun dipped lower, washing the peaks in bright, golden light against the blue sky.
St. George’s across the street, with its bell tower and antique stained-glass windows, stood guard as it had for the last hundred years.
A sign out front advertised that they were halfway to their fundraising goal to fix the belfry structure.
On the street, a woman in a soft sweater-like dress and tall boots jogged up to the restaurant entrance. Her dark skin glowed, set off by the beige scarf around her neck.