“You want the file.” Trisha made a beeline to a bar in another spacious room decorated completely in white.
“Yes, ma’am. If it’s not too much trouble.” Rich people lived on a whole other level, Ming thought as she absorbed her surroundings.
“No trouble at all.” Trisha slapped a thick manila folder onto the bar’s counter, and then promptly mixed herself a drink. “Can I get you anything?”
“Sorry. I’m on duty.” Ming joined her at the counter and then slid onto a wrought-iron barstool.
“Well, I need this.” Trisha saluted her.
Ming nodded and opened the folder. The first thing to greet her were bold black-and-white photos of Andrews straddling Dr. Turner in the driver’s seat of a shiny, silver Mercedes.
“I’m assuming they were parked,” Trisha said, with a deep measure of disgust.
There were several more shots of the uninhibited lovers in the car, but those were soon replaced with ones of them making out by a pool. “If you’re wondering, that’s our pool.” “He brought her here?” Ming asked before she could stop herself. “A bold bastard, wasn’t he?” Trisha took another sip of her drink. “And I stayed with him. How pathetic is that?”
Ming reached across the bar and gave the distraught woman’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “Life isn’t over. You’ll get through this.”
Trisha met Ming’s stare as a new wave of tears brimmed her eyes. “Are you married, Detective Delaney?”
Lifting her hand, Ming flashed her modest wedding ring. “Three years this December.”
“Hell, you’re still newlyweds.” A sardonic smile hugged Trisha’s lips. “You’re probably still having sex in every room of the house.”
Ming nearly choked on her laughter. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”
One of Trisha’s neatly manicured eyebrows rose. “Well, let me impart one thing I’ve learned in my disastrous marriage. Men are like houseplants.”
Caught off guard, Ming’s expression of interest collapsed into a frown. “A houseplant?”
Trisha allowed herself another smile. “They need constant attention, sunshine, water, and nurturing. You neglect any of those things, and they’ll plant themselves in someone else’s pot, if you know what I mean.”
Ming’s thoughts instantly flew to her often-busy schedule and her dwindling sex drive. Hadn’t she just fallen asleep on Conan the other night? “I’ll try to keep that in mind.” Their conversation ended at the sound of approaching footsteps. Det. Jorge Hernandez filled the room’s entryway. “Det. Delaney, may I speak with you for a minute?” “Certainly.” Ming hopped off the barstool and gathered everything back into the folder. “Take it. I don’t want it anymore,” Trisha said, and continued to nurse her drink. “Thanks.” Ming left the bar and walked across a white plush carpet to join her colleague at the door. “Do we have something?” Hernandez escorted her away from the door. “We found a .45 Para CCW hidden in a hollowed-out book.” “Bancroft was shot with the same type of weapon.” Hernandez nodded. “Figured you might want to take a look at it.” Ming dug her cell out of her pants pocket. “I better get the crime lab up here. We may have just found our murderer.”
#
Michelle left D’Angelo more than satisfied; and by the time it was all said and done, she’d also bargained to have a few of his men for security. Two large, black males trailed behind her. Their presence elevated her confidence; not that it needed it, but she felt that she was back on track.
In retrospect, she should’ve contacted D’Angelo.
Who knows? Maybe you could think of a way to get rid of him before you leave town.
Michelle smiled at the thought as she glided out of the back office and maneuvered through a busy boutique at Underground Atlanta. Minutes later, she slid behind the wheel of a red Jaguar and waited for her new security to show up before she pulled out. From across the parkway, Det. Simmons returned to his own car and watched everything with keen interest. “What are you up to, Andrews?” He grabbed his cell phone and quickly punched in Ming’s number as he started up his car. “You were my next call,” Ming said, before Tyrese had the chance to speak. “Well, you’re always on my mind, too.” Tyrese chuckled, but quickly grew serious again. “I think I have something.” “Same here. You first.” “Castellan’s.” “What, the boutique store?” “Yeah. You know who runs it, don’t you?” “A pain in the neck, D’Angelo.” “Bingo. Andrews just left his place and came out with a matching pair of goons.” Ming sighed. “We already interviewed him about the Thornton case. Him being Daniel’s friend and all.” “Maybe we didn’t ask the right questions.” “I’ll get him back in for more questioning. Are you still following Andrews?” “I’m on her like white on rice.” “Good. Now, it’s my turn to tell you what I’ve found.”
#
William only had a few seconds to make a decision. With wood burning in the fireplace and the Lincoln Navigator parked in the cul-de-sac, there was no point in pretending that no one was home.
One of the men pounded on the door and rang the bell simultaneously. From behind him, William heard footsteps on the stairs. He turned and met Josie’s scared stare. “It’s okay,” he mouthed quietly, and then directed her to get out of sight with a curt nod. She hesitated, and then quickly rushed back up the stairs. Another loud knock rattle the door and William, angrily, jerked the door open. “Yes, can I help you?” he barked at the two men. The men stepped back as their gazes lowered to the ax clutched in Williams’s hand. William’s brow rose higher when neither man spoke. “Yes?” he asked again. At last, one of the men stuttered out an explanation. “We’re, uh, out looking for a friend of ours.”
The other goon, who was by then well past being afraid of the ax-wielding William, looked as though he was considering a quick quarrel to prove who was the better man. William’s gaze focused on the large patch against the side of the man’s face. He hadn’t killed him after all. “Chuck,” goon number one, elbowed his glaring partner. Finally, Chuck held out a photograph. “We’re looking for this woman. Have you seen her?”
William kept his face light, his grip on the ax’s handle firm, while he allowed his gaze to fall to Josephine’s smiling image. He frowned and hoped that he wasn’t overplaying his part. “Never seen her before,” he said, glancing back at the two men. Chuck’s gaze narrowed. “Are you sure?” Despite his heart hammering in his chest, William cocked his head, and refused to be intimidated. “I’m positive.” After a few more seconds of warring glares, the unwanted visitors finally thanked him for his time and ambled off his porch.
However, William waited until the strangers climbed into their black Escalade and drove off before he closed the door. His entire body slumped in relief as he rested his head against the door; but, once again, his attention was drawn to the footsteps on the stairs.
“Pack your things,” William instructed curtly. “We’re getting the hell out of here.”
Chapter 28
“False alarm,” Detective Hernandez said, entering Ming’s office.
“Honey, let me call you back,” Ming told Conan over the phone. “Uh, huh. I love you, too. All right. Bye.” Once she disconnected the call, she gave Jorge her full attention. “Now run that by me again.” He handed her a report. “We just received the ballistics back on the Para CCW we confiscated from the Turner residence.” “That was fast.” She flipped open the report. Jorge straightened his tie. “Let’s just say that I have connections down at the lab.” “A girlfriend?” “Something like that.” He flashed her a brief smile.