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

with the FBI. You were Ian Strausbaugh’s partner, is that correct?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his expression tightened as he accepted her handshake. “Yeah. For almost ten years.”

Amelia straightened the front of her black button-down shirt. “I’m sorry for your loss, Detective Allworth. I can’t imagine how difficult that must be for you.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What exactly is the FBI doing investigating my partner’s case, if you don’t mind my asking? Unless you can’t talk about it. That wouldn’t be a first.”

Blinking at the abrupt and hostile transition, Amelia shook her head. Though she, personally, had never talked down to a city cop during a case, she still had to reap the fruits of those who’d come before her.

But just because she took an amiable approach to her interactions with the CPD didn’t mean she turned into a doormat for pissed-off cops.

“I’m sorry, Detective.” Her snide tone was enough to assure the man that she wasn’t actually apologizing. “That’s not information I’m cleared to discuss with you. Might I ask you what in the hell you think you’re doing trying to work your own partner’s murder?”

With an indignant huff, he shook his head. “I’m not working Ian’s murder. I’m here to ask Detective Reyman about her investigation into Ian’s case. Unless that’s something you Feds don’t allow anymore?”

Amelia narrowed her gaze on the aggressive detective, refusing to be baited and reply to his rudeness.

“Okay, Detective.” Natasha made the universal sign for time-out with her hands. “There haven’t been any developments, but we can talk later, okay? Gabriel Badoni and his lawyer will be here any minute for one last interview before the grand jury trial tomorrow.”

The detective’s gaze shifted to Natasha, and some of his tension vanished. His nod was slow and mechanical as he took a step back. “Okay. Thank you, Detective Reyman.”

Without so much as a sideways glance at Amelia, he turned around and took off toward the breakroom.

Though Amelia wanted to make a comment about Allworth’s rude behavior, she swallowed the words and returned to her seat.

Rubbing her forehead, Natasha let out a quiet breath as she dropped into her chair. “I’m sorry. A lot of the detectives that have been in the department for a long time are…well, they aren’t fans of the FBI or any of the federal agencies.”

Amelia waved away the apology. “It’s fine. I have something to ask you, though. Something I was about to ask before Detective Allworth showed up.”

Natasha stretched her legs beneath the desk. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“When Badoni and his lawyer get here, do you mind if I have a few words with them?” Amelia glanced to a security camera for emphasis. “Alone, preferably. And off-camera.”

Natasha pushed the computer mouse to keep the monitor from going dark. “Of course. Contrary to what you saw from my colleague,” she gestured to the breakroom for emphasis, “we’re always happy to cooperate with the FBI. I figured an interview with Badoni was part of why you were here, anyway.”

Amelia chuckled. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Scooting closer to the keyboard, Natasha minimized the images of the Glock. “We’ve got a little time before he gets here, so let’s go through the case again. Maybe I can pick your brain about it a bit.”

“Sounds good.”

Gabriel Badoni and his lawyer, Elana Haviv, didn’t arrive at the precinct until closer to nine. Amelia sat with Natasha and her partner during most of that time, but she didn’t broach any new theories with them.

With all the oddities and the holes in the current story, Amelia was certain the Leónes were responsible for Ian Strausbaugh’s murder. Chances were, the detective had been on their payroll, and he’d crossed a line better left untouched. Maybe he’d slept with the boss’s wife, talked smack to the wrong person, or overextended his reach.

If anyone knew the reason, it was Ian’s partner, Detective Cliff Allworth.

Once she’d had time to process her initial interaction with him, Amelia was sure his hostility ran deeper than just a few negative encounters with FBI agents over the years. If she had been a dirty cop, she wouldn’t be keen on the Feds either.

In fact, the longer she sat there, in the middle of the precinct’s fourth floor, the more certain she became that this place was a hotbed for Leóne activity. As someone who was loosely affiliated with the D’Amato family, she was technically behind enemy lines and needed to leave as soon as possible.

When Natasha and Floyd’s sergeant swung by to tell them that Gabriel was waiting in an interview room, Amelia barely stopped herself from leaping to her feet like a fan whose team had just scored a goal. Pushing down her enthusiasm, she followed the detectives to a hallway and then to the last door in line.

Floyd’s pale eyes flicked from the heavy door to Amelia before he rubbed his hands together. “Okay. Cameras are turned off, and there are no mirrors in this room. How long do you suppose this’ll take?”

Amelia painted a thoughtful look on her face and rubbed her cheek. “I’m not sure. Shouldn’t be too long, though. I just need to ask him a few questions to see if this is something that’s in line with our investigation over at the Bureau.”

Natasha stepped over to a wooden bench. “Take all the time you need, Agent. We’ll be here if you need us.”

Even as Amelia’s heart thudded against her chest, she steadied her breath and turned to the windowless door.

The time she’d waited for Gabriel to show up had been useful to hone a strategy, at least. Elana Haviv was a mob lawyer, but even so, Amelia preferred to keep the fact that she was here at Alex Passarelli’s request a secret.

That meant she couldn’t barge in and tell Gabriel that his capo needed him to pull his head out of his ass before sharing his new alibi with him.

But it didn’t mean she had to be diplomatic. She was fine with coming across unhinged, so