by Ingrid Thoft
“If you say so.”
“Don’t be so skeptical, Fina. You’ll miss out on so much in life.”
Fina wasn’t in the mood to be lectured, but bit her tongue. She needed to stay focused.
They found a table at the window overlooking Huntington Ave and uncapped their drinks. Fina had opted for seltzer, but Juliana chose carrot beet juice.
“How are things at the center?” Fina asked.
“They’re terrific. Very busy, but that’s the way I like it.” Juliana brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. She was wearing a fitted pantsuit and short boots, both of which were flattering and expensive-looking.
“I met your neighbor Bud Mariano,” Fina said. “He’s a hoot.”
“He’s such a sweet man. Did he tell you about his scuba diving?”
“Yes, he showed me some of the brochures for his trip.”
“I think it’s fantastic. He’s eighty-two and starting on a new adventure.”
“He’s obviously impressed by your triathlon training.”
Juliana shook off the compliment and didn’t have a chance to respond before a young man brought their sandwiches to the table. He was cute, but there was not an ounce of fat on him. His clothes seemed to wear him rather than the other way around, and Fina fought the urge to pick him up, toss him over her shoulder, and find an ice-cream sundae, stat.
“So you have more questions for me?” Juliana asked after taking her first bite of sandwich.
“One of the things I run up against in most investigations is that people don’t necessarily lie to me, but they leave a lot of things out.”
Juliana looked at her with a guileless expression. “Such as?”
“Such as your fight with Hank about the funding for the Reardon Center.”
Juliana put down her sandwich and wiped her fingers on her napkin. “Did Bud tell you we had a fight? You know, his hearing isn’t great.”
Fina chewed her bite. It was taking an unreasonable amount of time and effort.
“I, respectfully, call bullshit on that,” Fina said once she’d finally swallowed her mouthful. “His hearing is just fine. And I didn’t just hear this from Bud; I’ve heard from other sources that your funding was in jeopardy.”
“What other sources?”
“I’m not going to say, so let’s move on. Did you have a fight with Hank?”
“I’m not going to discuss this with you.”
Fina pulled open her sandwich and removed the offending tempeh. She put the slices of bread back together and took a bite of her newly constructed LT sandwich.
“Did you know that your son also had a fight with his father just days before his death?”
Juliana looked annoyed. “And who told you that?”
“Michael did.”
“Well, that’s his business, not mine.”
“Okay, but I work for Michael, and presumably, you don’t want to be an obstacle in this investigation.”
Juliana leaned toward Fina and lowered her voice. “I didn’t kill Hank, so I couldn’t possibly be an obstacle to anything. You shouldn’t be focusing on me. You should be focusing on other people.”
“Such as?”
“Oh, I don’t know. His wife? His business partner? His illegitimate children? Their mothers?”
Fina took a swig of seltzer and tried to swallow her annoyance at the same time. “I told Michael when I took the case that I was going to investigate everyone—even you—and he agreed to that.”
“Well, I don’t think he really thought it through.”
“Be that as it may . . .”
Juliana reached down and picked up her designer handbag. “I think we’re done. If you have any real questions to ask me, then please, don’t hesitate to be in touch.” She pushed back her chair and took off, her half-eaten sandwich left behind.
Fina loaded their plates onto a tray and spent what felt like an hour separating out the various components of their trash. She wasn’t opposed to recycling or composting; she just never remembered to build it into her schedule.
Back in the Prudential Center, she set off in the direction of the food court, one of America’s most inspired inventions.
Whew. She was famished.
Dante spent most of his nights at Crystal, overseeing his burgeoning criminal empire, but his days were spent in an office at the Hercules Body Shop in Somerville. Fina didn’t doubt that there was some legitimate work done at the shop, but she didn’t think it was the main source of income.
Fina was openly ogled when she walked through the garage and asked for Dante. She was directed to the second floor of the building. The upstairs hallway was dominated by a trophy case that held wrestling and boxing awards. One of the two rooms at the top of the stairs was closed off with a child gate, behind which were three kids ranging in age from one to four. Two middle-aged women were tending them, and a TV mounted overhead was playing a cartoon.
In the room next door, Dante sat behind one of two desks. The space was overstuffed with the desks, chairs, and file cabinets, and large slatted venetian blinds hung over the two windows. Dante was on the phone, leaning back in his chair with his feet on the desk. He looked surprised to see Fina and irked when she sat down in the chair behind the other desk.
“I’ll call you back.” Dante hung up and looked at her.
“I got your message and I thought I’d just stop by,” Fina said.
“A call would have been fine.”
“I like to see you in your various elements.”
“It’s a wasted trip. Like I said on the phone, I don’t have much to tell.” A calendar featuring a naked woman on a tractor hung on the wall next to him. The photo looked like an accident waiting to happen.
“Who puts out a naked tractor calendar?” Fina asked.
Dante hunched up his shoulders. “Who cares?”
“I’m just curious. What’s up with the day-care center next door?” She nodded toward the room with the children.
“Your questions are annoying.”
“Again, just curious. So, what do you have to tell me?” She swiveled the chair on its base.
“That kid? Brett Linder? I couldn’t get anything on him. I think he’s just a white kid pretending to be a gangster.”
Fina looked at Dante and tried not to smile. “He has a record, though.”
“Mostly chickenshit stuff.”
“Okay, what else?”
Dante leaned forward in his seat and looked at her. “It hurts me to say this, but that chick, Theresa McGovern? She’s awesome.”
“Really?” Fina asked, arresting the swiveling of her chair. “Not that I’m shocked, but I’m glad you think so, too.”
“She’s cool. I thought she was going to be all proper and shit, but she’s got a wild side.” Dante smirked.
“I’m not sure I want to hear this,” Fina said, rising to her feet. “Did you hear anything about the guy who’s after me?”
He shook his head. “Sorry.”
“He’s threatening my niece now, which is totally uncool.”
He held up his hands. “I got nothing for you.”
“I’m a little disappointed in your lack of information, but in general, I like this new relationship we’re forming, Dante. It feels very congenial.”
“If that means I’m scared of you, then that’s about right.”
“Keep in touch!” Fina said, and retraced her steps out of the body shop.
• • •
Fina tilted her face up to the sun. She was sitting on a bench outside the Universum Tech headquarters, waiting for Theresa. Rather than call, Fina decided to stop on her way back over the river. Theresa’s message had been cryptic and definitely warranted a follow-up.
“Hey,” Theresa said, sitting down next to her. She had a coffee in one hand
and a waxed bag in the other. She pulled a scone out of the bag. “Want a bite?”
“No, thanks. What’s going on? Your message was mysterious.”
“First of all, I wanted to thank you. I did a set at Crystal, and it was awesome.”
“Those were Dante’s exact words.”
“You spoke to Dante?”
“Just came from seeing him. He seemed really pleased.”
Theresa smiled. “Good.”
“You may not be aware of this, but Dante is a criminal. He’s a pimp and involved in a variety of illegal activities.”
“What’s your point?” Theresa took a bite.
“He’s not boyfriend material.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“There’s a difference between adventure and destruction, but hey, do what you want. You’ve been warned.”
“You’re kind of a worrywart under that tough exterior, aren’t you?”
Fina snorted.
“Anyway,” Theresa continued, “thanks for the gig. I’m working on a little something for you in return.”
“Meaning?”
A group of young men walked by them on the way to Universum’s front door. They looked to be in their early twenties, wearing cargo shorts, T-shirts, and a variety of casual footwear, including flip-flops. A couple of them didn’t look old enough to shave, and they were sporting various body types: reedy, round, bony, pillowy. They had to be engineers.
“It means that I was going through some of Hank’s papers, and there was something off about his most recent physical.”
Fina straightened up on the bench. “What do you mean specifically?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet, but it aroused my suspicions.”
“Can you give me more to go on?”
“I’m working on it, but I have to be careful. I can’t screw around with his medical records.”
“I’m not asking you to, but I can only get so far on supposition.”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Sounds good.”
Theresa balled up her bag and tossed it into the trash can next to the bench. “Do you have contacts any other place where I could get a gig?”
Theresa could give assertiveness training to a bull in a bullfight.
“Not off the top of my head, but I’ll think about it and let you know.” A shadow fell across Fina.
“Hi, Dimitri,” Theresa said, and stood.
“Theresa. I didn’t realize you knew Fina.” He looked at the two of them.
“We have a mutual friend,” Fina said. “It’s nice to see you, Dimitri.”
“I’m heading in,” Theresa said, nodding toward the building. “See you up there.” She walked away.
Dimitri shoved his hands into his pockets. “You don’t really expect me to buy that, do you? The mutual friend bit?” he asked.
“It’s the truth, but it doesn’t really matter if you believe it or not.” Even with sunglasses, Fina had to shield her eyes to look up at him. He was backlit, making his expression hard to read and putting her at a decided disadvantage. “Have a seat.”
Dimitri looked around, as if worried about being seen with her, before sinking down onto the bench.
“Is there an end in sight to your hanging around?” he asked.
“Most definitely. Once the case is solved.”
Dimitri crossed one ankle over his other knee. “Of course.”
“I haven’t been that disruptive. Andy and the kids seemed to like me.”
“Andy’s taste can be dubious, and my children love Barney.”
Clouds darted in front of the sun, and Fina shivered. “Did you attend Hank’s funeral? I heard that Juliana and Danielle got into it.”
“It wasn’t pretty. Andy was upset about the whole thing.”
Fina nodded. “Right. More Team Danielle than Team Juliana.” Fina rose from the bench. “Give my regards to Andy.”
“What? No other questions for me?”
“Not really. Everything I hear says you were extremely angry about being left out of the waterfront development deal. Was that reason enough to kill Hank? Maybe.”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“So you say. See ya.”
Fina walked back to her car, mulling over Theresa’s suspicions about Hank’s health.
It raised a big question. She had to find a lead in the question.
• • •
Fina decided to head home and formulate her next steps. Under other circumstances, she would have found a place for a snack, but given the threats hanging over her, home seemed like the best place to relax and regroup.
She was reaching into a bag of tortilla chips when there was a knock on her door. A glance into the peephole revealed Cristian and, unfortunately, Pitney.
“I know you’re in there,” Pitney said when Fina didn’t respond right away. “The doorman told me.”
“Remind me to dock his Christmas bonus,” Fina said, unlocking the dead bolt and opening the door.
Pitney walked in, and Fina glared at Cristian. He was always welcome in her home, but she wasn’t in the mood for Pitney. He gave Fina an apologetic look.
“So this is where you spend your time when you aren’t making the streets of Boston more dangerous,” Pitney said.
“It’s my grandmother’s place,” Fina said, following Pitney into the living room with Cristian bringing up the rear.
“You live with your grandmother?” Pitney took in the view of the harbor.
“My grandmother’s dead. It was her place when she was alive.”
“Well, that explains the decor.” So said the woman wearing a plum-colored pantsuit with a clashing chevron-patterned shirt underneath.
“Interior design isn’t a priority. Is that why you’re here? To critique my home?”
“No.” Pitney walked over to one of the armchairs. “May I?”
“Knock yourself out.”
Fina took a seat on the couch, and Cristian joined her, but kept his distance.
“I hear you have a Haley situation,” Pitney said.
Fina looked at Cristian. “Do you have something?”
“No, but we wanted to follow up,” he said.
Fina felt the brief surge of adrenaline subside. “I don’t have anything new to report.”
“Can I see the photos?” Pitney asked.
They were tucked under a pile of papers on the coffee table, which Fina pushed aside. She handed the envelope to Pitney, who examined them.
“Are you working on another case that could inspire this reaction?” Pitney asked.
Fina shook her head. “Not really. The Reardon case is definitely the most likely.”
“We heard there was quite the dustup at Hank’s funeral,” Cristian said.
“I wasn’t there.”
“No, but what did you hear about it?” Pitney asked.
“Probably the same thing you did, that Juliana and Danielle got into it.”
“What more can you tell us about them?” she asked.
“About the wives?” Fina asked. “Nothing.”
“So you’re doing all this investigating and haven’t turned up anything of interest about the two of them?” Pitney asked. “You’re a better investigator than that.”
Fina smiled. “Really? You think you can flatter me into telling you something?”
“Worth a shot.”
“I don’t have anything to tell you except that they both seemed interested in his money.” Fina adjusted on the couch. “What do you think about Walter Stiles?” she asked.
Pitney looked at her. “The clinic director? Nothing in particular. Why?”
“He just seems fishy to me.”
“Fishy?” Cristian asked.
“T
here’s something off about him and the cryobank, and no, I don’t have anything specific to back that up.” Fina didn’t see the need to share Ellen Alberti’s musings with them, not until she knew what was in those files.
“I’ll put that in my pipe and smoke it,” Pitney replied, rising from her chair.
“Well, that was a thoroughly unproductive visit,” Fina said.
“How’s Haley doing?” Pitney asked as they approached the door. Pitney didn’t know the extent of Rand’s crimes, but she knew that Haley had been through a difficult few months, and she’d done what she could to protect her.
“She’s okay. She’s playing field hockey and getting more involved in school stuff. My sister-in-law, Patty, is a great influence.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I’ll make a call over to Newton and ask them to keep an eye on things in their neighborhood—suspicious cars, that sort of thing.”
“I would appreciate that, and it will reassure Patty and Scotty. Thank you.” She looked at Pitney.
“You’re welcome, Fina.”
Fina poked Cristian in the shoulder. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Sounds like you’re in trouble, Menendez,” Pitney teased.
“Great.” Cristian frowned. “Something to look forward to.”
“Don’t forget that you’re legally obligated to share relevant information with the police,” Pitney said once in the hallway.
“How could I forget? You’re constantly reminding me,” Fina said. “Good-bye, Boston’s Finest.” She closed the door behind them.
• • •
Rosie and Renata agreed to meet at Scotty’s office later that afternoon. Scotty was squeezing them in between a client meeting and a client dinner, so Fina got right to it.
“We know that you lied about your whereabouts the night Hank died.”
Renata pivoted in her seat and stared at Rosie. “What is she talking about?”
Rosie looked down at her hands and picked at her cuticles. They were sitting in the conversational seating area separate from Scotty’s desk. Michelle had offered beverages; Fina and Scotty were nursing diet sodas, but Renata and Rosie had declined the offer.
“Actually, can I get a bottle of water?” Rosie asked. Fina got one from the bar and handed it to her. Rosie took her time unscrewing the cap, had a sip, and screwed the cap back on.