Storm's Cage by Mary Stone (uplifting novels .TXT) 📕

thought about it, the more I regretted the murder. Not Ian being dead, of course, he was a loose end, but the way I’d done it. I should have made it look like a suicide. All this covering up and second-guessing was doing my head in.

Floyd cleared his throat, and I realized I’d been standing there dumbstruck for too long. The detective was staring at me. I had to say something. “Sorry. I’m all up in my head about this. It’s your case. You should be the one concentrating on it. But yeah.” I chuckled awkwardly. “I think most of the department has heard of your victory, honestly. Sergeant told me about it when I got in a bit ago, but I still wanted to hear your opinion on it. Maybe I can offer some help.”

“Hey. It’s okay. We’re going to get justice for Ian.” Floyd’s expression was pure sympathy. “Ballistics told us that the nine-mil Natasha found was the weapon used to kill Detective Strausbaugh. There was a serial number on the weapon, which we thought was odd. It’s telling us the same story as the ballistics. They’re both pointing at the same guy.”

I lifted a brow. “A D’Amato man, right?”

Floyd’s pale eyes flicked back to mine. “Yeah. Wow, I guess word does spread quickly. I just found out about it at six this morning. Didn’t figure the whole damn department would know about it when I got here.”

I threw a quick glance over my shoulder, checking to see if anyone was within earshot, and then propped my elbows on Floyd’s desk. Leaning in close, I kept my voice low. “Look, I know you probably aren’t supposed to answer this since the suspect’s part of a big crime family, and believe me, I get why.” I paused, swallowing hard in feigned apprehension. “I just…remember what I told you and Detective Reyman when you interviewed me on Tuesday morning? About the Portelli case?”

Setting the thermos beside a computer monitor, Floyd nodded. He had to know about the Portelli case, but to his credit, not even the slightest hint of curiosity or surprise showed in his expression. “Yeah, I remember that. What about it?”

Folding my hands, I made a show of gritting my teeth. “I don’t know. I just…I had a theory about who might’ve killed Ian, and I wanted to know.” I pretended to trail off and rubbed my forehead.

This was what I would’ve done if I was innocent. I was sure of it. With every clue Natasha and Floyd uncovered, I’d want an update. I’d be suspicious if I’d kept to myself and sought to avoid any news of Ian’s case.

Drumming his fingers against the desk, Floyd finally let go of the steeliness in his expression. “We’re not under orders to keep it to ourselves. It’s mostly a recommendation. So, technically.” He raised his shoulders. “I can tell you. Natasha should be here any minute now, and as soon as she gets here, we’re going to head out to pick the guy up.”

I already knew what Floyd was about to say, but my heart thudded against my chest just the same.

“Ballistics were a match to the handgun that Gabriel Badoni allegedly used to kill Gerard Portelli in self-defense.” He held up a finger. “And, that weapon was actually registered to Portelli. It should’ve been stored away as evidence, but that case is years old, so who knows.”

“Wow!” After I practically yelled the word, I realized that my enthusiasm might have been a little overplayed. I reached up and rubbed at my eyes, hoping the friction might make them water as I heaved an exaggerated sigh. Emotional highs and lows went with news like this, so if he thought I was just overcome, he’d have no reason to suspect my outburst. With an added sniffle, I met Floyd’s gaze. “I can’t believe it. A ballistics match and a name, that’s…I’m so…great news.”

“We’re hopeful.” Floyd’s gaze softened. He looked about one more sniffle away from giving me a hug. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I just want to see justice for Ian.” I plastered a brave smile on my face. “This is the best news I’ve heard all week.”

Floyd’s attention shifted to something behind me.

I turned to peer at the hallway, and Natasha Reyman’s dark brown eyes met mine.

The expression lasted only a fraction of a second, and at first, I wasn’t sure if the skepticism had been real. But in that fleeting moment, I could have sworn I’d caught her sizing me up.

As much as I wanted to believe I’d simply imagined Natasha’s scrutiny, I couldn’t afford to ignore any sign, no matter how small.

I’d have to watch Natasha, and if she got too close, then I’d deal with her.

14

As Alex pulled his car to a stop in front of a sprawling, two-story Victorian, he tried to ignore the nagging in the back of his head that told him he shouldn’t be here. That he was too damn old to pick up a date from a sorority house or that he was a creep.

He threw the gearshift into park and plucked his phone from the cup holder. Liliana D’Amato wasn’t expecting him to be here for another fifteen minutes, but Alex had a longstanding habit of arriving early to important functions.

Great. That means fifteen minutes to sit in my car and think about what a loser I feel like.

Alex typed a quick message to Liliana, letting her know he’d arrived.

The last time he’d seen Sal D’Amato’s youngest kid and the man’s only daughter, Liliana had still been in high school. Her braces had been removed by then, but her shy mannerisms and soft-spoken demeanor were far more reminiscent of a child than a woman.

But six years was a lifetime in Alex’s world. Liliana had just turned sixteen back then, and now she was almost twenty-two.

To complicate matters further, he’d bought an impressive princess cut diamond ring to make their engagement official. He had to figure out how to give her the sparkly