Nickel City Crossfire by Gary Ross (children's books read aloud TXT) 📕

that’s what he said to responding officers. She acted like the needle was a dagger.” Piñero angled his head at her. “What was it you called him again? He’s a big what?”

Instead of announcing that I was somewhere in the building, Jane Doe lifted her hands, links of chain taut in the table ring. “I just want to go home.”

Piñero unlocked the cuffs. Harlow Graves led the woman out of Interrogation One. Piñero looked at the mirror and held up a finger. Then he left the room. A minute or two later he joined Kim and me in the observation room.

“They’re gone.”

“That was some weird shit,” Kim said. “He came out of nowhere.”

“Pete, you told her to cool her jets while we sorted everything out, right?”

“Yep.”

“So she never got to make a phone call?”

“Nope.”

“Never lawyered up.” Piñero looked at me. “You know what this means?”

“Somebody was watching. They called Graves.” I paused as I realized I’d likely seen his face at the bar association holiday party. “Somebody inside General or waiting outside.”

“If she can afford Harlow Graves,” Kim said, “she should’ve had a gun in that room.”

I thought for a moment. “Do either of you think she knows him?”

Piñero shook his head as Kim said, “No.”

“He didn’t seem to know her either,” I said. “He never called her by name.”

Piñero ran a hand through his hair. “So what makes a prominent black attorney rush in to help a woman he doesn’t know? A woman with obvious racial bias?”

“A Korean, a Puerto Rican, and an African-American walk into an interrogation room,” Kim said. “Feels like for somebody we were a joke waiting to happen.”

Piñero let out a long breath. “Rimes, this just got more interesting. I’ll push for the round-the-clock. Mrs. Simpkins might be a witness. We’ll definitely process that hypo.”

30

I got to redeem my fully punched caught-a-cop-killer card after all. Piñero woke up Deputy Commissioner Shallowhorn and explained everything. Also, he reminded her I had done a solid for the department six weeks earlier. She authorized protection until Mona Simpkins was discharged and ordered Piñero to review the notes of the detectives working both cases.

I reached home at six and called Oscar’s cell to tell him to sleep in because Mona now had police protection. To my surprise, Louisa answered. Oscar was in the shower, she said, and Winslow was still asleep. But they had told her everything so I didn’t need to try leaving a message in some kind of silly man code. Sorry, she couldn’t see my smile, I told her what happened at the hospital and downtown. “Glad it was you there, not Oscar and Win,” she said. “My husband is more than ready to help, but he’s not as young as he thinks he is.”

“Thank him for me,” I said. “I’ll talk to all of you soon.”

Next, I sent separate text messages to Carl Williamson and Jen Spina. I gave Carl Oscar’s phone number, in case he wanted to reach out to Win, and Mona’s room number, if he wanted to visit. Jen’s message included a reassurance to Keisha that her parents were now safe and a request that she call me some time that afternoon. A subsequent text went to Ileana, Cassidy, and Yvonne, telling them to stand down because I now knew where Keisha was. I thanked them all for their help, giving extra praise to Yvonne for pointing me in the right direction. Then I fell into bed without waiting for replies.

I woke at ten past one and had a fried egg sandwich and apple juice before showering. As I ate, I checked my phone. Three responses, one missed call. At eight Carl had thanked me for letting him know and said he’d take Rhonda to visit Mona soon. Shortly before nine and fifteen minutes later, respectively, Cassidy and Yvonne both typed You’re welcome. Yvonne reminded me I had promised to introduce her to LJ. I texted back that it was exam week but that I would keep my promise by the weekend. The missed call had come from Ileana just before noon. No message. I was just about to return her call when the phone vibrated in my hand.

LJ.

“Hey, G! I got your stuff done.” He sounded cheerful. Probably the thought of the check I would send him.

“Already?”

“I had it last night. I woulda called this morning but I had an exam” He chuckled. “It was simple, once I unmasked every section and printed it all out. Kinda like a jigsaw puzzle with sentences and paragraphs. I’ll email it to you after this call.”

“So what was it?” I asked. “The short version.”

“It was actually three documents, all about taking over some low-cost apartments and renovating them into upscale condos—very upscale places. It was a company I never heard of, FBF Development, Flame Bright Fame. Know anything about them?”

“No.”

“They’re not super-rich—in fact, just a few years old. But they’ve got projects going in a handful of cities. Detroit, Cleveland, Pittsburgh. Now Buffalo, soon Rochester.”

“Nothing in Chicago? New York or Philly?”

“No.”

I thought about that for a moment. Rust Belt cities with populations well under a million. I wondered what, if anything, that meant. “Any other information about them?”

“I’ll put some links in the email to the company website and a couple articles. Also, my bill. It’ll cover the two new first-person-shooters I want to get, so thank you very much.”

“Would it be enough for a night on the town with a nice young lady?”

LJ snorted. “Yeah, if I had one.”

I laughed and said, “I know somebody who wants to meet you. Who’s dying to meet you. She works with Keisha Simpkins.” Then I told him about Yvonne, that she had finished the program right before he started so she had maybe four or five years on him. Something she read about him in a newsletter made her want to meet him. I described her in detail and said I found her strikingly attractive.

“So she’s about my height, older, and bald?” He was quiet