On his way out the door, loud enough for Tatters to hear him, Andrew said to Toni, “I’m glad Nettles told us about his hidden security cameras.”
• • •
It’s been a long day, Toni thought as she walked to her car hours later. She’d be glad to get home. Although she had plenty to do over the weekend, she was looking forward to it. There were boxes to unpack, which would take most of the day on Saturday. Then Sunday, she would treat herself by taking in that concert in D.C.
At least, that’s what she’d convinced herself she’d do. So why had she made a copy of the flash drive Maria had taken? She didn’t have time to watch it, if the weekend went the way she’d planned. But then, when it came to ongoing investigations, she knew she wouldn’t be able to relax until she’d found the answers she needed.
Granted, she and Drew had other cases besides the Tindal murder, but there was something about Maria Tindal’s death that kept pulling at her, bothering her to no end. And it wasn’t just because it was her first case here. It was about Maria herself.
She had been Pamela Larkins’s best friend, and it had been obvious that the two shared a special friendship. Maria’s loss would be hard for Pamela to recover from...especially since she had been the one to find her.
Toni had discovered that the hard way. She remembered how difficult it had been when she had lost her mother, when she had tried to awaken her lifeless body that morning. That was an experience she knew she’d never, ever forget. And although she’d done her best to move on, she knew that the terrified sixteen-year-old girl she’d been was never far away.
She sighed and thought about Fred Tatters...and his connections to Maria Tindal’s murder. It hadn’t taken long for Tatters’s attorney, to show up. She could tell by the man’s designer suit, high-priced shoes, and pompous attitude, that he was someone Tatters could not afford. But Will Mooney could. But why? Why would an NBA owner pay his high-priced attorney to defend Tatters?
When the man declared his client wouldn’t be answering any questions, Drew had been quick to state otherwise. He’d even gone so far as to say that if Tatters refused, they’d hold him until he did. And they would. Toni figured no one had explained to Tatters’s attorney that stunts like he was trying to pull usually plastered the word ‘guilty’ on the client’s forehead.
Drew then let the attorney know that they were aware of Tatters’s relationship with Roger Shellpoint, a person of interest to the FBI. And he explained to the attorney that it would behoove Tatters to cooperate, since this could quickly become a federal case.
Toni liked Drew’s style of interrogation. He never went after the jugular, but instead took an “I-don’t-give-a-damn-if-you-cooperate-willingly” attitude. But in the end, she’d bet the perp always cooperated.
He was just as cool and calm as he could be, as if he really didn’t give a shit one way or the other. That made it so that people didn’t know how to read him. And then they would start questioning themselves as to whether he knew something they really didn’t want him to know. That got under people’s skin. And evidently, it worked on Tatters’s attorney, too. In less than an hour, he had decided that Fred Tatters would answer their questions.
Tatters again claimed he did not know Maria Tindal and had never met the woman. At least, not officially. He had, however, seen her since he’d attended the same party Byron Nettles had that night. In fact, he’d planned to hit on her himself, but Nettles had beat him to it.
He also knew that she and Nettles left the party at the same time, but he hadn’t known they’d ended up together until he’d talked to Nettles days later. That’s when Nettles had told him about Maria stealing the flash drive. According to Tatters, he’d been concerned because he was the person in charge of getting his employer, Will Mooney’s, products photographed for Wizzin.
Tatters claimed the reason he had placed a call to Will Mooney that night was to verify their meeting scheduled for the next day. And as far as the reason he was in the vicinity of Maria Tindal’s home the same night she had been murdered? That had been purely coincidental. He’d been on his way to meet with a woman and had arrived at her house at nine thirty.
He was certain the security cameras and private guard at the entry to her condominium complex would verify the time he’d arrived and the time he’d left, which had been well past midnight.
They would check out everything Tatters said. If what the man said was true, then he had an iron-clad alibi. But still, Toni found his relationship with Nettles interesting. And the only thing he said about his relationship with Shellpoint was that they’d met last month at a networking seminar in D.C. and exchanged business cards. Tatters claimed that if he’d known Shellpoint was an unsavory character, he would not have gotten involved with him.
As Toni continued to walk toward her car to head home, her thoughts shifted from Fred Tatters to the weekend she had planned. It had been nice of Drew to offer to help her, but she’d known it wouldn’t be a good idea. It was bad enough being around him during work hours. If he came to her place, all she’d be able to think about would be doing what they always did the moment they were totally alone—strip each other naked.
At least they’d survived this first week, she hoped the next week would be even better. There had definitely been plenty to keep their minds occupied. And every day, she got to know more of the detectives in the Crime Investigation Unit. Everyone seemed so nice.
“I see you’re calling it a day, also.”
Toni turned to look at the man who’d moved in step beside her, intruding on her thoughts. She’d never met him, but had seen him earlier that day when she and Drew had been on their way to meet with Valerie.
She stopped walking. “Yes, I am.” She extended her hand. “I’m Detective Toni Oliver from the Criminal Investigation Unit.”
“And I’m Detective Nathan Muraca from the Special Investigation Unit. I understand you’re Drew’s new partner.”
Of course, he would know Drew. “That’s me.”
“Then, let me welcome you on board.”
“Thank you, Detective Muraca.”
“Just call me Nat. And I hope I can call you Toni.”
“Absolutely.”
“Good. How would you like to go out with me this weekend, Toni?”
Whoa…this man didn’t waste time. They’d just met, and already he was hitting on her? He had a friendly smile, but Toni recognized it for what it was—predatory. And the “I-want-you-in-my-bed” look in his eyes sealed the deal. She’d met a few officers like him in the Miami Beach Police Department. Guys who made it a hobby to collect as many notches on their bedpost as they could. And then brag about it.
That was one of the reasons she’d never dated any of the guys at work. They took ‘kiss-and-tell’ to a whole different level. Nothing with them was sacred. Until Drew, she’d never been with anyone in the same profession. For her, that had been taboo. But Drew had broken down all of her defenses. He’d been the first...and she intended for him to be the last.
“Thanks, but I’m busy this weekend,” she said, then began walking toward her car.
“No problem. Just let me know what day next week will work,” he said, moving in step with her again.
She stopped walking, deciding to nip his hopes of ever having her for a bedmate in the bud. He was pretty damn handsome, so he was probably used to winning over any woman he went after. And he had that straightforward approach, which most women appreciated, including her most of the time. But not now. “Unfortunately, I have this policy, Nat.”
“And what policy is that, Toni?”
“I don’t date guys who see me as nothing but a number.”
He lifted a brow. “A number?”
“Yes, just another notch on your bedpost. The last thing I want is for you to think I’m an easy mark, because I’m not. It will take more than a sexy smile to win me over.”
He chuckled. “So, you think my smile is sexy?”
“Yes,” she sai
d truthfully. Then, seeing the egotistical look that appeared in his features, she felt the need to add, “But I’ve seen sexier and have turned them down, too.” She thought about one much sexier smile that she hadn’t turned down. Drew’s smile had captured her from the first moment she’d seen it.
“It was nice meeting you, Nat.” She then turned to continue walking to her car.
“I’m going to keep trying, Detective Toni Oliver.”
She turned back around and gave him one of her smiles. “You do that, Detective Muraca. And if you feel the need to move me from a number to a challenge, you definitely have that right. But you won’t get to first base.”
“We’ll see.”
Jeez. She wondered how many women it had taken to make this man so damn overconfident. “No, Nat, you will see.” Then, she turned and kept walking, refusing to waste any more of her time on the conceited Detective Nathan Muraca.
• • •
Andrew stood at the window near his desk and stared at the couple in the parking lot below. He had been looking out, watching Toni walk to her car, and had seen the exact moment Nathan Muraca approached her. He’d figured the man would find her sooner or later—he was the department’s official Casanova.
Muraca had been out most of the week on special assignment and had only returned to the office today. When they’d been on their way to meet with Valerie, Andrew had seen how his gaze had zeroed in on Toni, as if wanting to uncover all her secrets, even at a distance.
It had taken all of Drew’s self-control not to go out and knock the hell out of him. Earlier, Muraca had been on the other side of the room, which had saved Drew from having to introduce them. Now, from the looks of things, Muraca was introducing himself. God, he hated the guy. Every Monday, he came in to the precinct talking about all the women he’d scored with that weekend. He could only hope Toni wouldn’t give the guy something to talk about.
Toni had assured Andrew she wouldn’t date anyone he knew. That list should include Muraca. But he’d heard the guy was very persuasive. Did he have reason to worry? And why did it concern him anyway if she decided to make Muraca the exception?
“Thanks for giving our unit the heads up on Roger Shellpoint, Drew. We plan to keep our eye on him and Fred Tatters.”
Drew turned away from the window and glanced over at Daniel, from the Special Crime Unit, who’d come to stand beside him. “No problem. Even if Fred Tatters’s alibi checks out, I believe that he and Shellpoint are into something shady. I just don’t know what.”
“We’ll be working with the FBI to find out,” Daniel said.
Daniel then glanced beyond Drew to look out the window. “I see Slicky Dick hasn’t wasted any time hitting on your partner.”
Drew turned back to the window. Slicky Dick was code for Nathan Muraca. From the day he’d joined the force three years ago, transferring in from Arizona, he’d told anyone who would listen how he spent his free time—between some woman’s legs. The nickname had been a joke. But Drew didn’t see anything amusing about it, now that he was talking to Toni.
“Not my concern,” he said.
“If you say so, Drew.”
He glanced over at Daniel. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean just what I said. Let’s just say I’ve gotten to know you. Hell, there are even times I can read you like a book. I blame it on our friendship, as well as my tendency to be an observant bloke.”
“And?”
“And I can tell that you got a thing for Detective Oliver.”
Drew frowned. “A thing?”
Daniel shrugged. “That’s what I call it, but you might categorize it as something else.”
Drew didn’t say anything for a minute. “And you figure this how?”
“The day you introduced us, you tried to sound nonchalant, but I detected something strange about the way you acted.”
Drew held his gaze. “Something strange?”
“I saw possessiveness. You were acting territorial.”
Drew shook his head. “You’re wrong.”
“If that’s the case, then why were you standing here, looking out the window, watching Muraca hit on your partner and growling?”
Growling? Had he been growling? “Like I said, you’re wrong,” Andrew said, trying to sound convincing.
“Okay.” Daniel glanced out the window again. “Slicky Dick is trying hard, and you know what that means—he wants her bad. It will be interesting to see how long it will take him to break down her defenses. But if I’m right, Drew, and you’re attracted to her, then I suggest you do something about it.”
Andrew knew he shouldn’t ask but couldn’t help himself. “Something like what?”
“Intervene. All you have to do is let Muraca know you want her for yourself, and he will back off.”
“There’s no reason for me to do that, Daniel. I don’t want her for myself.”
“Whatever.”
Drew glanced back out the window and saw Toni walking away from Muraca. The man was still standing there, deliberately checking out her ass as she walked to her car. It was only when Toni had driven away that Daniel spoke again. For a minute, Drew had forgotten he was still standing there.
“Enjoy your weekend, Drew,” Daniel Zinc said, before walking off.
A WEEK LATER, TONI was studying the sticky notes that littered her desk. Back in Miami, her partner would tease her about using notes instead of a suspect board. But for her, this was the best way to process information.
They still didn’t have a concrete lead on Maria Tindal’s killer, and that bothered her. Fred Tatters’s alibi had held up. Security cameras at the woman’s place had verified the time he’d arrived and left. However, his association with Shellpoint was still under investigation, and had been turned over to the SIU for further handling.
She picked up the note that said flash drive. Why had Maria Tindal taken that particular flash drive from Nettles? For the past two days Toni had studied the contents. All she’d discovered was countless pieces of merchandise, way too expensive for her mind to comprehend. Who would pay two-hundred-thousand dollars for a purse—even if it had been a Birkin, handmade personally by the Japanese designer with several authentic diamonds lining the gold strap? Or a painting going for a million dollars that made her eyes cross every time she saw it, or the t-shirt that had been worn by Michael Jackson the day before his death.
The names of the sellers weren’t known, not even by Nettles. He’d been hired to photograph the material, not worry about its authenticity, the cost, or delivery. All of that was between the seller and buyer. Wizzin claimed the information was classified, and refused to disclose any information about the auction’s participants. Andrew and Toni were working with the DA to have a judge sign off on their request.
Placing the sticky note back in its designated spot, she leaned back in her desk chair. There had been no fingerprints on the murder weapon, and nothing else was out of place. The only thing they knew for sure was that Maria had known her killer because there was no sign of forced entry.
Toni and Drew had gone back to the crime scene more than once, trying to construct a timeline. How long had the person been inside the house before the murder took place? How did the person have time to go into the kitchen and get the knife?
There was a possibility that after letting the person in, Maria had taken a shower. That made sense. After all, the shower floor had been wet, and parts of Maria’s body were still damp. Had she been showering to get ready to go out with her lover while he’d been contemplating the best way to kill her? If whoever had murdered her had been there for the flash drive, he must have known where it was because nothing in the house had been disturbed.
Toni turned her thoughts to the weekend and hoped it would be better than the last one. She had planned to unpack boxes that Saturday and go to the concert that Sunday. Only she’d done neither. Instead, she’d gotten caught up in a movie, and before she knew it, it had become a Netflix weekend.
They’d both been busy finalizing interviews and following up on leads for the Tindal case, including several others they were working on. But during the drive to and from their destinations, they’d run out of non-personal stuff to talk about. And there were times just discussing work didn’t cut it. That’s when the silence would get oppressive.
And worse, it would drive up the desire. She’d felt it and knew he had, as well. There was no way he couldn’t. There were times when the silence seemed to have a life of its own—moments when their hands would accidently brush, or when they would stand too close to each other while taking statements or while pressed together in a crowded elevator. One day, he’d been so close, she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck.
And then there was Detective Nathan Muraca, who was still trying to get her into his bed. He wasn’t making a nuisance of himself, thank God, but whenever he saw her, he would give her that look, letting her know he was waiting. Well, he’d just have to keep waiting. Once she made up her mind not to sleep with someone, that was it. And she hadn’t had any trouble making up her mind about Nathan Muraca.
Then there was Joanie, the dispatcher and office gossip. She’d just been cornered by Joanie again, this time at the snack machines in the breakroom. The woman seemed determined to finish filling her in on what Joanie felt Toni needed to know. Since no one was around the snack machines, Joanie began talking, darting her eyes around every so often to make sure she wasn’t overheard.
The woman finally got around to telling Toni about Drew. According to Joanie, Drew had never dated anyone who worked at headquarters. It was rumored a few years ago that he was dating some woman in another town, but no one knew any details. That lasted for almost a year, then for a good six months, he kept to himself. According to the rumor mill, he and the woman had broken up. Toni wondered how Joanie would feel if she knew Toni had been the mystery woman.
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