by TG Wolff
“Where?” Montoya said, the question rhetorical. “His office? His home?”
“I’ve heard he has a lake house near the Pennsylvania border.” Hyatt shrugged when all eyes stayed on her. “He invited my counterpart in city hall for a long weekend to work on her approach. She declined.”
“I want a search warrant for all of them,” Cruz said. “The audio files establish a relationship between Posey and Hannigan and the text to the girlfriend puts his last known location as en route to Posey.
“Slow down,” Bishop said. “You aren’t in this alone anymore, and we have our own procedures to follow. There’s a reason the FBI and Justice Department have the success rates we have. We gather the evidence first, then we move.”
Cruz tried twice more but ended up with the same verse. He spent the next hours ignoring emails and other distractions to get everything he had in Bishop’s hands. A question nagged in the back of his mind: if he had spoken up in that first meeting with Posey, asserting his authority the way Yablonski expected him to, would Carter still be alive? What would this Cracken have done to pull his attention away from the case? Posey was color blind—he couldn’t see anything below the white line. If it had been him pressing instead of Yablonski, his bet was Posey would have been laying into the chief, maybe through the mayor. It might have been loud and messy, but Ramsey and Montoya would have backed him.
His phone chimed, reminding him of the lunch meeting with D’Arcy Whitmore. He wasn’t in the mood for cloth napkins and waiters, but it would better than the cold dish of regret he was chewing on.
D’Arcy had picked a restaurant on Public Square known for their steaks. The dining room was crowded with suits and fabricated smiles. D’Arcy waited at a four-top table, thumbs flying over her phone screen. She glanced up as he approached. “You’re almost on time,” she said as he stripped off his coat. “Should I get used to waiting on you?”
“I’m not late.” He looked at his phone. “I’m here exactly when I got here.” Then he took the chair next to her, preferring to face the room. “Popular place.”
“All the best places are.” She pointed the conversation to the meaningless. He needed the breather, he realized, with hours more listening to Hannigan’s recordings ahead of him. He needed to recharge his brain if he was going make it through the long afternoon.
The waiter made an appearance, determined to get this meal moving. Cruz picked up his menu only to have D’Arcy pull it back down. “Why don’t we get the sampler for two. You eat family style off a platter containing a little bit of everything.”
“Sold,” he said, sliding the menu toward the waiter.
When they were alone again, D’Arcy planted her elbow on the table, supporting her chin on her hand. “You look tired.”
“Ah, well, that’s because I feel tired. There’s no getting anything by you, Counselor.”
She tapped the corner of her eye. “That’s why they call me Eagle Eye.”
“Is that what they call you?”
“Well, no, but I figure if I say it often enough, someone will pick up on it.” She bounced her eyebrows.
“If it helps you out, I’ll refer to you that way around homicide. We don’t call anyone by their given name, except Sonja, the department’s admin assistant. None of us are willing to risk her wrath.”
“Sounds like a woman after my own heart. Soup’s here. Creamy potato or corn chowder?”
“Chowder. I ate about a pound of potatoes last night.”
The waiter set the bowls down. D’Arcy began mixing in the bacon and green onion toppings. “Right, your birthday dinner. Was it a rousing success?”
Roberto Juarez’s face popped up like a whack-a-mole. Two dozen good things happened the night before, but all he could picture was his mother’s plus one.
“Mostly,” he said, not wanting to go any deeper into his sleep deprived brain.
“I think we can do better than that.” D’Arcy set a small box wrapped in a tasteful white-on-white paisley on the table. “Happy Birthday.”
If King Kong walked in wearing a tutu, he couldn’t have been more surprised. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know,” she said, grinning impishly. “That’s what makes it fun.”
He turned the light package over to lift the three tabs of tape holding the paper together. The box inside was navy blue with a deep purple top. Inside the box was a tie. Thick brush strokes in purples and blues streaked across a cream-colored background.
“It’s a Leonard,” she said. “He’s an artist from back home who is a master at color. I bought it last month but didn’t know who I was going to give it to. Turns out, it was you. Here, let’s try it on.”
Cruz looked down at the tie he wore, noticing for the first time how bland it was. That used to be him, back when he first suffered through buying dress clothes. “Yeah, let’s try it on.” He pulled his tie off, then stood his collar up. He pulled the new and improved tie from the box, looped it around his neck and began tying the knot.
“Here, let me.” She took charge, sliding the knot into place, smoothing his collar back down. “Perfect.” She looked into his eyes and stilled. “I knew it would suit you.”
The colors reminded him of a carnival, bold flashes always in motion. He smiled, practically smelling the fried dough and corndogs. A lightbulb went off, reminding him he was supposed to say something. “Thank you,” he said, lifting his gaze, finding her much, much closer than she had been. “Whoa—”
“You’re welcome.” Her voice was a whisper, as were her lips when they touched his.
“Jesus De La Cruz!”
His name was a whip cracked in the air. He turned as a pissed off woman stalked toward him. Aurora’s older sister. “Selena.”
“You worm. You cockroach. You two-timing, cheating, lowlife bastard!” She swept a full glass of water off a neighboring table and flung the contents at him. “Stay away from my sister!”
His face drenched, his shirt and tie soaked, he could only jump to his feet. “No, Selena, you don’t understand. D’Arcy was just giving me a present.” He was around the table, palms out to calm the storm.
“Oh, I understand, you worthless piece of dog shit.” She spun on D’Arcy. “And you, you designer knockoff slut, keep your hands to yourself.”
A man hustled over in a coat and tie. “Ma’am, I’m afraid you are going to have to leave.”
“As if I would stay in a place that would serve people like them.” She threw her chin in the air as she spun on her heel. The manager at her side, she walked out without looking back.
D’Arcy wiped the water from her sleeve. “And who was that?”
“My girlfriend’s sister.” He stared toward the front of the restaurant, trying to digest what just happened.
“Girlfriend?” D’Arcy distanced herself. “You have a girlfriend?!”
“I, uh, I have to go.” He stripped the tie from his neck, not caring where it fell. “I’m sorry.” He grabbed his coat and hurried through the crowded dining room. Looking more at his phone than where he was going, he kicked a chair leg and fell into a diner. It took two more tries before Aurora’s phone was ringing. “Pick up, baby, please pick up.”
It rolled to voicemail. He was desperate to get to her before her sister did. He brought up his texting app. Call me now. Can explain everything. VIP. ASAP.
The speech bubble vacillated, meaning she was texting him. Then it stopped. Then it started again. Then a single word appeared: Why?
He wouldn’t explain why he needed to talk to her in a text. It would take too long and make matters worse. I need to talk to you. Now.
U kissed another woman?
“No, no, no.” He called her again. “Come on, baby, talk to me.”
She didn’t answer, but a text appeared. I can’t do this now. I have a class to teach.
“Fuck.” What to say? Okay, just promise me you won’t do anything until we talk. I lo
ve you.
The speech bubble appeared again but then it stilled. No text appeared.
He told his heart to stop racing. Aurora was in the middle of teaching. He’d just get back to his office—BEEEEP—a car swerved to miss him as he stepped off the curb. He jumped back. When the light turned, he walked on colt’s legs across the street. The sounds of the city blended into one giant noise, punishing his head. His hair whipped in front of his face, the ends lashing at frozen skin.
The heat inside headquarters seared what the wind had frozen. Fingers he couldn’t feel suddenly pulsed with pain. Habit took him into the elevator and out at his floor.
“Cruz?” Sonja’s voice was full of concern. “Are you okay? You look like you just lost your best friend.”
Her words were a physical blow. It seemed every face turned to him, concern and sympathy in all of them. He didn’t want it; he didn’t need it. They would talk this out and it would be something they looked back at and laughed.
“I’m going to the morgue,” he told Sonja. “Then I’m taking some personal time.”
His car sat in the parking lot of Aurora’s school. There was over an hour left until the end of the teaching day. Cruz considered going in, he was a regular in her classroom, but knew she wouldn’t want that. Instead, he wrote up notes from his visit to the morgue. The weapon he was looking for was long, rounded, about half an inch in diameter, and made of cast-iron. Small pieces were embedded in the head wounds along with a gray ash. It had a hook or barb that punctured the back of the head. It was the fireplace poker. He was sure, ninety percent sure.
He should have brought flowers. Roses.
Before the killing blow, Val Hannigan had fought back. Defensive blows were found on his hands and forearms.
Except flowers would have been an admission he did something wrong, when he didn’t.
Gold threads of an unknown source were found in the dried blood. The drapes were gold and one was missing.
He didn’t ask D’Arcy to kiss him. He didn’t kiss her. This shouldn’t be a problem.
His mobile rang, the first three digits were 427. “De La Cruz.” He answered sharply, expecting it was the hospital and bad news because why else call him.
“Cruz, this is Grayson Manor, calling about our writers’ group. Is this a good time?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, searching for an ounce of patience. “Sorry, in the middle of something. Can we talk later?”
“Sure. I just wanted to confirm you can speak at our meeting. I want to get an email out to our membership and maybe post a few flyers to around campus. Would you have a picture you could send me?”
“Send me an email with the information and I’ll get back to you.”
“I’ll get it to you—”
“Sorry, have to run. Bad guy at twelve o’clock.” And he hung up. He let his head fall against the headrest. Damn, he felt like crap. Maybe he was coming down with something. Then he remembered he hadn’t eaten lunch. Oh, and he hadn’t slept for a long time. He’d just close his eyes for a minute. Recharge those brain cells.
A car horn woke him. Children in brightly colored coats dotted the grounds around the school. He hurried between the line of idling cars. Inside, teachers called out greetings to him. He responded with a wave and what he hoped was a smile as he made his way to Aurora’s room. She worked at a file cabinet, leafing through papers.
“Baby, I need to explain what happened today.”
“And I’m here to make sure it’s the truth.” Selena stepped in behind him. Of the three sisters, Selena had the strongest resemblance to their father, Addison, the mild-mannered accountant, but had the take-no-prisoners attitude of their mother, the defense attorney.
Aurora turned to them, her face a fragile mask. “Please, Selena, let me talk to Zeus.”
He went to her then, spinning her until her back was to her sister. “I had lunch with a work colleague today.” A snort came from the third wheel. He ignored it, focusing on the one woman who was his everything. “I was meeting with her and her boss yesterday when I ran out to come home for dinner. She invited me to lunch to finish the meeting and gave me a tie. She knew it was my birthday and it was a nice tie, so I put it on. She was helping me fix it when she might have kissed me.”
More caustic sounds came from the peanut gallery.
Aurora winced at his admission but didn’t turn away. “If it was a work meeting, why wasn’t her boss there?”
“We were meeting to talk about Val Hannigan. He was her case.”
“Have you known her a long time?”
“No, just a week or so.”
“Why did you take a gift from a woman you’ve only known a week? Why did you let her get close enough to kiss you?” Her gaze didn’t waver; she didn’t shy away as she interrogated him.
“The present surprised me. I didn’t know she was going to kiss me. Who expects something like that? I was about to tell her no when Selena interrupted.”
“Oh bullshit,” Selena said incredulously. “Another ten seconds and her tongue would have been down your throat.”
Aurora staggered backward. Cruz pursued, taking her hands. “She’s wrong, baby. Absolutely wrong. D’Arcy caught me off guard, that’s all. I’ve never had a coworker do anything like that.”
Aurora tugged on her hands but didn’t fight when he kept them. “So, she’s a cop?”
“She’s an assistant county prosecutor.”
“A lawyer,” she said, her brows furrowing. “Did she know you had a girlfriend?”
“Baby, up until that moment, all we ever talked about was rapists, liars, and murders.” Honesty was his only option, especially with her sister lurking. “I didn’t want to know about her personal life or have her in mine. We have such a good thing together, don’t let a misunderstanding get between us.”
Her sister hovered on the periphery, a superior scowl on her thin lips. “Come home with me, Rory.”
“She has a home,” he snapped at her sister, “with me.”
“So, now you remember.”
“Selena, stop,” Aurora said, looking over her shoulder. “You’re not helping.” She turned back to him. “This hurts me. I’m not sure you understand how much.”
“I didn’t do anything, Aurora.” He pleaded his case even as he saw the hammer of judgement falling. “You can’t punish me for what someone else did.”
“If anyone’s being punished, it’s me.” Sadness weighed down her beautiful features. “Are you trying to sabotage us? First the stupid raid on Cookie’s house, now kissing a lawyer? If you want to break up, just say so.”
“I don’t. No. The thing with Cookie was a misunderstanding. Just like this.” He was talking fast, moving to keep Aurora’s back to her bitch of a sister. “I was having lunch with a colleague. I have no idea what got into her head.”
Selena shoved her way between them. “I warned you about him, Aurora. No cop that looks like him would be faithful. There’s a reason their divorce rates are at the top of the charts.”
His hands curled into fists desperate to pound into something. His temper flared, unable to tear down the wall between them. “You know what I don’t understand, Aurora? Why won’t you fight for me? When I thought you might be seeing someone, I stormed the fort, ready to kick anyone and everyone’s ass who tried to come between us. Now the shoe’s on the other foot and you’re running away. You’re willing to drop everything we have without a fight. What the fuck, Aurora?”
“I guess the fuck is, we think differently.” She faced him, her own temper rearing. “I want a man who chooses me. Always, every day. I want to be totally confident in the man I love and him to be the same in me. You don’t trust that if I’m around other men, you’re the only one I’m thinking of.”
“Baby, you don’t understand how men think—”
“And you don’t understand how I think. I don’t see anyone except you. I haven’t from our first date, but
you…” She trailed off, the thought unfinished. “I won’t live every day wondering if you are where you say you are, worrying about other women in your life.”
His aching heart raced now. He’d rather she yelled at him, threw something, anything but look as though she’d already lost him. “Come home,” he said softly, then turned her words on her. “Cut me a break. You said everyone needs one, every now and then. I need one now.”
Her gaze snapped back to his, showing she remembered the advice she’d given and he’d taken. He was asking for no less. “I need one, too,” she said, tears spilling over her cheeks, each drop soaking her blouse. “I need to know I can trust you, because right now, that trust has been shaken. I need something more from you than it wasn’t your fault.”
Selena wrapped Aurora in her arms. “You don’t deserve my sister.”
He hurt. He wanted to stay, to mount an offensive, but Selena had resurrected old feelings, ones that were still raw. He didn’t deserve a woman like Aurora. She was too beautiful to be with a man like him. He was once handsome. He once had a face without scars, one that didn’t ache every time the weather changed. “Alright, I’m not going to make a scene. Take some time. Think. But while you’re thinking, be honest with yourself about how you love me, and how you know I love you. Then come home and talk to me. This isn’t the end, Aurora, just a bump in the road.”
He went home because there was nowhere else to go, because he hoped she would come there, too. Their home. Their place. Together. The gnawing in his gut was more than desperation; his birthday binge had worn off.
The refrigerator was full of memories. The barbecue Aurora had prepared the night before after all her silly sneaking around. His present, made by her hands.
It made him smile and want to cry.
His cell rang. He whipped it around, disappointed to see his brother-in-law’s number displayed. Unusual to get a call from Tony Moreno. Cruz’s head went straight to his sister and the girls.