Symphony of Bones by L.T. Ryan (little bear else holmelund minarik .txt) 📕

be the question Ms. Bolton had been waiting for. She stood a little taller, and Cassie caught a sparkle in her eye. “I have not spoken to Senator Grayson about specifics, but I have worked closely with him over the last few years and would like to imagine how he would answer this question. Senator Grayson feels strongly about keeping our streets safe, both here in North Carolina and across the country. The percentage of violent offenses involving drugs has risen in recent years, and it is Senator Grayson’s ultimate goal and responsibility to combat these tragedies. I do not believe his mind will have changed on the subject after the passing of his son. I am not aware of any specific pieces of legislation the Senator will want to work on, but I can guarantee he will write them with a heartfelt hope that no one will ever have to experience what he is going through right now. Thank you for your time.”

Ms. Bolton left the podium before anyone could ask another question. She, the local detective, and the two FBI agents walked back into the police building without looking back, but Cassie could still sense Agent Viotto’s frustration in the tightness of his face and position of his shoulders.

The news cut back to the side-by-side spread of the station news anchor and the reporter on the scene. A mugshot of Anthony Jamal Lewis appeared on the screen as well. He was a Black man not much older than Connor. His hair was in cornrows, and Cassie could feel the anger and pain hidden behind his dark eyes, forever trapped in time by the photograph.

“We’re still learning about Anthony Lewis’ checkered past,” the news anchor said. “But for now, let’s go through the details of the case we’re certain of. Nicole?”

Judy turned the volume down. “That poor family. They just lost their son, and all everyone can talk about is politics.” She handed the remote to Laura and stood up. “I need some air.”

She left the room before either of them could say anything.

“What do you think?” Laura asked, nodding toward the TV. “Does it match up with what you saw?”

“The shooting? Yes.” Cassie looked back to the TV, back to the picture of the man they’d arrested for murder. “But that’s not the man who shot the Senator’s son.”

Laura’s eyes grew wide. “How do you know?”

“The man in my vision? The one who pulled the trigger?” Cassie could hear the gunshot in her mind, just as loud and final as the first time. “I didn’t see his face, but I did see his hand. He was white. Anthony Lewis didn’t kill Connor Grayson.”

The air hung heavy with revelation. It was a moment before Cassie could find her words again.

“They’ve got the wrong guy.”

18

For the first time since she arrived in Charlotte, Cassie allowed herself to remember what the city used to mean to her. Family vacations. Museums and parks and eating ice cream until she thought she’d explode. It was their home away from home when she was younger, and now she hardly recognized it.

That said more about her than it did about the city. For centuries, Charlotte had adapted and grown and changed. This would continue in the years to come. Maybe she’d get to witness a part of that now that her parents had chosen it as their permanent residence.

But that was only if she could find a way to open up to her parents without getting committed to a mental institution.

Despite her love of the city and an urge to revisit all her favorite haunts Uptown, Cassie had popped out of the house under the guise of doing some shopping while she was in town. But she was really after a face-to-face with someone she hoped would hear her out.

Cassie had been sitting in the police station parking lot for two hours before she spotted Agent Viotto leaving the building. She’d left after breakfast and was hoping she’d catch the younger agent on his lunch break. She’d prepared herself to deal with him and his partner, but her plan would be much easier to enact if she could get Viotto on his own.

His partner looked like the skeptical type.

Cassie stepped out of her car and slammed the door loud enough to get Viotto’s attention. When he turned, she gave him a little wave and headed in his direction. He leaned against the hood of his black sedan and watched her approach. He looked confused but intrigued.

She was off to a good start.

She stopped a foot or two away from him. “Hey.”

“Hi.” A pause. “I’m sorry, have we met before?”

“No.” She stuck her hand out. “My name is Cassie.”

“Cassie.” She liked the way he said her name. His accent hinted that he was from somewhere up north. “I didn’t think so. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if I could buy you lunch.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

She smirked. “No.”

“Too bad. I would’ve said yes.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Cassie let her mind wander for a moment before pulling herself back to reality. “I have some information about the arrest you made this morning.”

“Anthony Lewis?” He pushed himself off the hood of his car. “What kind of information?”

“I don’t think he did it.” Cassie let that hang in the air for a moment. “And I don’t think you do either.”

She had definitely caught Viotto’s attention. “What makes you think he didn’t do it?”

“The answer to that question is complicated. Which is why I was hoping I could buy you lunch?”

“Should I get my partner?”

“It might be easier if we talk first. Have you had any barbeque yet?” When his eyes lit up, she had her answer. “I’ll buy you some brisket if you’ll listen to what I have to say. After that, I’ll leave you alone. I just want to help.”

Viotto looked from Cassie to the building and back again. Was he debating on whether he should bring her in for questioning?