First. He was easygoing by nature, but DeMarco seemed to be able to press his buttons faster than anyone he’d ever dealt with. “Did you forget who’s the lead detective on this case?”
She offered him a wide smile. “Just keeping you humble,” Frankie replied.
“Thanks for that,” he said with more than a touch of sarcasm.
* * *
For the remainder of the week, Luke, Frankie and White Hawk split up the various names on the list of the victims’ friends and relatives, and gathered as much information about the dead women’s lives as they could.
A couple of the victims had no families, but they all had coworkers and friends who were deeply affected by their deaths. There was no shortage of people to talk to about the various victims.
* * *
“I don’t know about the information you collected, but after speaking to the people who knew Kelly McClusky, Jane Gorman and Penny James, in my opinion these women came off like saints,” White Hawk commented when they got together again to compare notes on what they had found out. “It seemed like because they’d all gone through substance abuse problems, the women were determined to make the world a better place in order to atone for their own lapse and fall from grace, so to speak. How about you?” he asked Frankie.
“I had the same impression. I have to say that I would have been more than willing to call any of these women a friend. They worked hard at their paying jobs and they did volunteer work, as well. I’ve got one helping out at a soup kitchen three days a week, another working at an animal shelter in her off hours.”
“One of mine tutored underprivileged kids,” Luke said. “Another one volunteered at least four times a week at a hospital.”
“I’ve got one—Debra Evans—who read to the elderly in retirement homes on weekends,” Frankie added. She looked at the other two detectives. “You know what all the victims have in common?”
“Offhand, I’d say they should all be canonized,” Luke quipped.
“Maybe,” she willingly allowed. “But they were also all too busy to find someone to date,” she concluded. “That’s why they wound up going to an online dating site. Filling out a profile and putting down what qualities they were looking for in a date was more efficient and time-saving. Doing it that way cut down on a lot of trial and error on the dating scene. It gave them a jump start, something they all seemed to feel that they badly needed in order to weed out the men they felt weren’t their type.” She looked at Luke. “We’ve got to get our hands on the names—and photos—of the men who interacted with our victims on that dating site.”
“First—” Frankie backtracked, knowing she was getting ahead of herself “—we need to make sure that all our victims actually signed up for this site. Once we verify that, we can go from there. I guess this means we’re going to have to hit up someone in your family for a court order to get The Perfect Date people to open up their database for us.”
Luke nodded. She was right, he thought. “We can do that at the party this Saturday,” he told her.
She had walked right into that one, hadn’t she, Frankie thought.
“The chief throwing another one of his famous gatherings?” White Hawk asked him. He obviously appeared to be pleased to hear this. “Linda’s still talking about the last one we went to.”
“As a matter of fact,” Luke told his partner, even though he was looking directly at Frankie, “he is. I’ll give you both the particulars as soon as I get them.”
“Can’t wait,” White Hawk told him.
Maybe White Hawk couldn’t, Frankie thought, but she definitely could.
Chapter 14
“Are you familiar with the term blackmail?” Frankie asked pointedly later that day, just as Luke was shutting down his computer.
Luke raised his eyes to meet hers. “Well, I know I only get to work with crimes having to do with dead people and I don’t deal with the breadth of crimes the way someone in Major Crimes does,” he told her. “But yes, I do happen to be familiar with what the word blackmail refers to. Why?” he asked.
“Because you’re obviously guilty of it,” she informed him.
“Well, I wouldn’t have to resort to blackmail if you weren’t digging in your heels the way you are.” He gave her a penetrating look. “Why are you so afraid of coming to one of my family’s parties?”
“I’m not afraid,” she retorted. “Who told you I was afraid?”
He didn’t have to pause to think before answering. “You did.”
Frankie was about to protest that she had done no such thing then realized what he was basing his accusation on. “Because I didn’t want to come to a big gathering?” she challenged.
“No, because you looked like a deer caught in the headlights over the idea of being around a family gathering.”
Her eyes blazed as she told him, “I know you’re the lead detective on this case, but you’re also imagining things.”
She looked magnificent when she was angry, he thought, fascinated with the way her eyes flashed. But he still wasn’t going to let her win this.
“Am I?” Luke asked.
She shut off her computer with a flourish as she shot back, “Yes, you are.”
“Okay,” he conceded. “Then prove me wrong. Come with me to the party,” he told her. “I’ll pick you up at eleven.”
For a second, Frankie was completely speechless. And then she pulled herself together.
“Eleven?” she questioned. “Isn’t that kind of early? Is it a kids’ party?”
“It’s an everybody party,” he replied. “Some of the family members have kids, and Uncle Andrew insists that they bring them. Like I said, everybody’s welcome.”
“What time will it be over?” she asked Luke. Maybe, because there were children, it was one of those two-hour parties. She could put up with two hours if that meant she could finally get O’Bannon off her case.
“When the last person goes home,” he answered. Luke saw the slightly puzzled look on her face and explained. “There is no time limit on these things. Uncle Andrew just wants everyone to enjoy themselves. They’re free to stay as long as they want—or go home whenever they feel like it,” he added for her benefit.
“Well,” Frankie admitted, “I have to admit I do like the last part.”
Luke laughed. “Yeah, I had a feeling you would. So it’s settled. I’ll pick you up at eleven,” he told her just as he began to leave the squad room.
Frankie sighed, then raised her voice so it would carry. “There’s no getting out of this, is there?”
“Nope. Besides,” he said as he made it out the door, “you don’t want to insult Valri.”
Frankie had already shut down her computer. She hadn’t planned on going out of the squad room and down to the first floor with O’Bannon, but he’d aroused her curiosity. She really liked his cousin Valri and was impressed with her computer prowess.
Grabbing her purse, Frankie hurried to catch up.
“What does Valri have to do with it?” she asked.
Luke pressed for the elevator. “The party is for her.”
“Her birthday?” Frankie guessed, saying the first thing that occurred to her.
The elevator arrived and he walked into the near-empty car. “Her pregnancy.”
Frankie put her hand out to stop the doors from closing so that she could get in. “Her what?”
“Her pregnancy,” he repeated.
That didn’t make any sense to her. “But I just saw Valri yesterday and she looked as slender as a reed. Slenderer—if there is such a word.”
“Be sure to tell her so.” When she eyed him questioningly, he explained. “It’ll make her feel good. According to her sister, Kelly, Valri already thinks she’s getting fat.”
“Then Valri real
ly is pregnant?” Frankie asked. She thought of the Cavanaughs as workaholics as a whole. That didn’t seem to leave much time for things like creating babies.
Just because you’re married to your job doesn’t mean that everyone else is.
“Well, she tells me that her doctor seems to think so. And so does her husband,” Luke told her. And then he thought of something that might be keeping Frankie from coming with him to the gathering. “This doesn’t mean you have to buy her a baby gift, so you can’t use that as an excuse for not coming.”
Frankie shot him a look. “I’m reserved, O’Bannon, not cheap.”
“And why is that?” Luke asked her. “You being reserved, not cheap,” he clarified.
“You might not have noticed this, but not everyone is outgoing,” she told him, getting off the elevator and striding toward the back entrance.
“I know that,” he agreed, walking right beside Frankie despite her attempts to get ahead of him. “But the ones who aren’t are really missing out on things.”
“That’s your opinion,” she informed him coolly.
“Yes, it is,” he readily admitted. “But it’s based on a lifetime of observation. No man is an island,” he told her. “And no woman is, either.”
“So now you’re paraphrasing John Donne? Very profound,” Frankie commented dryly. Pushing the door open, she hurried down the steps.
“Also very true,” he countered.
Lengthening his stride, Luke caught up to her in a couple of seconds. He had a feeling that the more Frankie resisted attending, the more she really needed to interact with his family on a social basis. He wasn’t exactly sure why she was the way she was, if it only involved losing her cousin or if there was more to it than that, but he was certain that mingling with his family would help bring her out of her shell. He’d seen it happen before, when determined members of the family had brought other people into the fold. They came resisting, and they left happy that they had come.
“Look, I’m not asking you to sell your soul to the devil,” he told her patiently. “I’m just asking you to come have a little fun. You need to learn to loosen up a little. Trust me, DeMarco, there’s more to life than just work. And that’s the part that makes the work worthwhile,” he emphasized.
Feeling beleaguered, Frankie turned to face him. “I thought what made the work worthwhile was catching the bad guys.”
Luke sighed. “Of course there’s that, too. Look, Frankie, I don’t want to have an argument with you about this.”
“You really could have fooled me.” Exasperation echoed in her voice.
“I’ll be there to pick you up at eleven,” he said again, walking away.
“And if I’m not there?” she challenged.
“Then it’ll be your loss,” he answered.
Rather than continuing to try to convince her to attend, Luke fell silent and just kept on walking to where his vehicle was parked.
* * *
“You’re under no obligation to go, you know that,” Frankie told the woman who was looking back at her in her bedroom mirror. “You see these people enough as it is. You don’t have to break bread with them or sit around and listen to them tell stories and look like a modern version of some Norman Rockwell painting come to life. You’ve got more important things to do.
“Oh, don’t give me that sad face. It doesn’t matter what Detective Lukkas O’Bannon said. You don’t need to socialize, you need to solve this damn crime and get that evil SOB who killed Kris and all those other women,” she told her reflection fiercely.
Still, Frankie reasoned as she blew out a long breath, if she didn’t go to this party, O’Bannon would definitely give her a lot of grief about it on Monday morning. And this celebration, or whatever O’Bannon chose to call it, was for Valri, someone she did like.
Frankie looked up at the ceiling, as if that would somehow help her make up her mind about this, one way or the other.
But just then the doorbell rang and suddenly the time for waffling and debating was over. Unless she intended to climb out the back window to make her escape, she was trapped.
Checking her overall appearance in the mirror, Frankie decided it was too late for any last-minute changes, anyway.
Resigned, she went to the front door.
Leaving the chain in place, she opened the door just a crack.
And there he was. O’Bannon. Standing on her doorstep, looking big as life.
Frankie made no effort to let him in. “We don’t want any,” she said.
“That’s good, because I’m not selling any,” Luke responded.
She continued to leave the chain in place. “Yes, you are. You’re selling family and happiness and all that fairy-tale stuff.”
Not to mention that, dressed in gray chinos and a light blue sweater, the man looked really good. She didn’t want that fact to muddle her thinking.
“No, I’m not. I’m not selling it at all,” Luke corrected. “I’m offering it to you for free.”
There was a glint in his eye as he looked her over slowly.
Frankie felt herself growing warm. She wished he wouldn’t look at her that way. It wreaked havoc with her concentration. “Nothing is free in life,” she told him. “Everything comes with a price tag.”
“In this case,” he told her, “the price tag is that you just enjoy yourself.”
There was a bigger price tag than that involved, she thought, and it was about causing her to lose her focus. “A lot you know,” Frankie murmured under her breath.
The next moment, she pushed the door closed only long enough to take the chain off. Telling herself she was going to regret this, she opened the door.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she said, much the way a condemned prisoner announced they were ready to meet the firing squad.
“You look great,” Luke told her. “There’s only one thing missing.”
Here it comes, she thought, bracing herself for a lecture that would quickly devolve to a fight. “What?”
“Do you think you could maybe try to smile just a little and not look like you’re being taken to your own execution?” he suggested.
She supposed that she was being a little petulant. “Sorry,” Frankie muttered. Taking her shoulder bag, she locked up her apartment.
He went to take her arm, then stopped himself. For all he knew, that might make her bolt or be the ultimate deal breaker. He kept his hands at his sides.
“Don’t be sorry, just smile.” He led the way to his car. “Never mind,” Luke told her the next moment, negating his previous request. “Just come. The smile will turn up of its own accord eventually.” He opened the passenger door for her.
“Look,” she said as she slid into the front passenger seat, “it’s not that I don’t like your family, it’s just that...”
Luke buckled up on his side. Glancing at her, he hazarded a guess about her less-than-enthusiastic reaction. “It’s not yours?”
About to protest, Frankie decided that there was no point in denying it. O’Bannon was clever enough to see through any lie she might come up with. If she conceded this, maybe he’d stop guessing.
“Something like that,” she said with a shrug.
“Feel free to borrow anyone from my family anytime you feel the need,” he told her loftily. “They’re even a lot better outside of work than on the job.”
“That’s okay. You can keep your family intact. I tend to be a private person,” she told him, trying to make Luke understand her reticence once and for all.
“Don’t worry. Nobody is going to ask you to spill your guts,” Luke promised. “You might not even have to talk at all if you don’t want to. Hell,” he laughed, thinking of several of the last parties, “Sometimes it’s hard to get a word in edgewise once this group really gets going.”
> Luke was quiet for a moment as he drove to his uncle’s house. He had an idea that he knew what might make her feel better about attending the gathering. “And we can leave anytime you want—your call,” he told her. “Right after Uncle Andrew makes the toast.”
“The toast?” she asked. Why would there be a toast, she wondered. Was this some kind of a tradition?
“Well, yes,” he said, as if she should have figured this out on her own. “To Valri and Alex—and their yet unnamed, barely formed baby.” He spared her a glance. “So, does that make you feel any better?”
“I’m getting there,” she allowed, even as she told herself that she was probably coming off as someone who needed to be handled with kid gloves. That was not the way she saw herself and yet here she was, behaving just like that.
“White Hawk will be there,” he told her. He knew she got along well with his partner. Maybe this was the bargaining chip he needed to get her to relax.
“Then he really is coming?” she asked. She’d heard White Hawk mention attending with his wife, but at the time she’d thought he might have just said it to help convince her to come.
“He comes to a lot of these gatherings. As does Linda, his wife,” Luke added in case she’d forgotten who Linda was. “I told you, to Uncle Andrew, family doesn’t mean DNA, it means a feeling of kinship.
“Speaking of kinship, I might need a little moral support,” he told her out of the blue. “Feel up to supplying it?”
“Why? What do you need moral support for?” she asked suspiciously. She had a feeling this was just his way of trying to distract her once they got there.
He debated just how much to tell her. “My mom’s going to be there.”
“You don’t get along with your mother?” she asked. He hadn’t said anything about that before.
“Oh, I get along with my mother just fine,” Luke assured her. There was no misunderstanding the fondness in his voice, she thought. “She’s my rock. The only problem is, the rock is going to be there with another rock.”
Completely lost now, Frankie stared at him. “Would you like to try to put that in English this time?”
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