Intimate Relations by Rebecca Forster (most popular ebook readers TXT) 📕

agreed that he went upstairs where the body was found, but we searched that unit top to bottom. There was no way for him to leave that room."

"You yourselves said that the layout of that place made no sense. Did you look outside the unit? You know, work your way inside instead of trying to get out," Thomas suggested. He took up his drink again. When he put it down he said, "We are also talking about a ghost. If Ding Xiang doesn't want to be seen, he won't be seen. Given what he does, given his money, given his ability to disappear from the world stage, he could take out a baby influencer and you'd never lay a hand on him."

"If you can do all that, why care about being outed? And if you did care, why not have someone else do the job. If your work is on an unregulated platform and governments can't touch you, then the law can't," Finn said.

"There's always something a human being cares about," Cori said. "Maybe Roxana had more than a sex thing on him. Maybe she got some government secret from him. Governments have disappeared a person without anyone knowing, and they've done it just on the suspicion that someone was going to scam them. The woman is Russian. Don't forget that."

"Holy mother, you've got us in a conspiracy now?" Finn laughed. "I'm not James Bond nor are you—"

"Don't go there, O'Brien," Cori warned.

"It's not like that. No, no. It's about humanity," Thomas said. "Tech can't substitute for the basic human responses: jealousy, anger, revenge. Ding Xiang might be socially backward, but he is human."

"And this is speculation," Finn said. "We know he was near Enver Cuca's unit the night of the Asylum party, and we also know he was inside at least twice before that night. We know he was at Roxana's house. We know that Enver Cuca painted a portrait of Roxana. She was in his home at least once because that is where she died. It all circles back to Enver Cuca. All of it."

Cori's eyes flitted to Thomas. He raised a shoulder as if to say 'why not'. Cori looked back to Finn.

"I have a funny feeling we're going to be pulling some overtime," Cori said.

"Aren't you wanting to close this circle, Cori?"

In answer she finished her drink, took a few bills out, and put them on the table.

 Finn got up, put on his jacket.  He gathered up the papers. He took one last look at Ding Xiang's picture and put some money on the table too.

"Yours is on me, Thomas, for all your hard work."

"My pleasure," the lawyer said. "All I ask is that if you find Ding Xiang, you call me so I can have him sign my autograph book."

"We'll do our best," Finn said.

"Thanks, Lapinski." Cori gave his shoulder a squeeze. Lapinski's hand covered hers briefly.

"Stay safe," he said.

"Always," Cori answered.

A few minutes later they were on the road to The Brewery.

26

The cowboy still rode his white steed, his hat was still held skyward. He grinned and grinned, but in the coming dark he looked sad and lonely. He could wave his hat in welcome all he liked, but Finn and Cori could not get through the gate. The guardhouse was not manned, no one came or went to allow them to drive in on their pass. If they had been on foot it would be no easier; the pedestrian gate had a coded lock.

Finn dialed his phone. He listened to it ring. Cori watched the street. A block or two down she saw the twinkle of Christmas lights on a hamburger/taco stand where she had pulled in for fries and a drink after her dunk in the garbage.  She could see the glow of lights from the artists' lofts and the common area fixtures, but the place was buttoned up.

"Yes," Finn said. "If you would. Thank you, Mitzie."

"The fabric artist?"

"She'll come and let us in," Finn said.

"How did Hunter and Douglas get in the other night?" she asked, making small talk while they waited.

"The man who called it in opened it," Finn said, and then: "There she is."

Finn put his eyes on the gate, and released the emergency brake when it pulled open.  Mitzie stood back waiting. Finn stopped the car alongside her.

"There's a visitor spot over there."

Finn followed her directions. She met them half way when the detectives got out of the car.

"You must be psychic," she said. "I was thinking about calling you."

"Are you okay?" Finn said.

"Me? I'm always fine." She waved away his concern. Her blue hair had turned to green. Finn preferred the blue. They walked slowly toward the compound. "It's probably nothing, but there's a delivery still on Enver and Emi's steps. It's not like them to leave anything out. You know how it is here. If it's on the steps it's fair game."

"Perhaps that was their intent," Finn said.

"All wrapped up in a shipping box? I don't think so," Mitzie smiled at Cori. "When it's just stuff on the stoop we don't wrap it up. We leave it outside our units or put it in the park. I met Detective O'Brien in the park."

"So he said," Cori answered. "Have you seen the Cucas recently?"

"Once when a policeman brought them home. I was going to check in on them, but I'm a chicken. I don't want to get involved. No one does now. It's like there's a black cloud over them."

They walked as far as the Cucas’ unit without interruption. This night there were no spectators, because there was nothing interesting to see.  Porch lights were on. Most units had no windows, and of those that did only a few were covered. They could see one man painting and another soldering.

"I always thought a place like this would be hopping at night," Cori said.

"The murder was as much excitement as anyone wants for a while." She looked from one detective to the other. "Do you want