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Ray cleared his throat to take over the conversation and stop the smirking. “In the future Tony, keep your notebook intact. You might need those notes in trial. Might need them later. Make copies.”

“Oh.”

Shit!

“Okay.”

“Autopsy?” someone asked.

Carol Offord answered. “Tomorrow at the earliest. There was a small fire-fight over in Frogtown involving six Asian gentlemen-two dead, two in Ramsey, and two in custody. The dead guys beat our deceased to the morgue.”

For a brief moment Tony wished they had drawn that case instead. He was familiar with the street, with the gangs, and hell, they already had people in custody. Slam dunk. Start adding up the closed cases for Detective Anthony de Luca. Sweat ’em a little Get one of the Asians to raton one of the others and lock all of them up in Stillwater. The buzz of conversation intruded on his fantasy.

“Tommy Gorand is at Region’s. They’re pretty sure he’s going to make it, but it was bad.”

Christ!Tommy’s a pal of mine.Shot? Tony tucked his fantasy away and got his head back into the case.

Gullickson got up to leave. “Obviously, you’re lead on this one, Ray. Use your people as you see fit. De Luca, don’t get over eager on me. These are good people, you’ll learn a lot.” Tony tracked him as he retreated to his office.

Lipka and Vang Pao saddled up for the door to door interviews. Ray kept Carol back, huddled with her for a minute, then came over to Tony.

“I want you to go talk to the son and the roommates.”

“Alone?” Tony was surprised but not worried that he couldn’t do the job.

“I’m taking Carol with me. We’re going to make another run at the husband. What we need right now is to know where everyone was from Sunday night through Monday morning.” Ray paused, let out a sigh and shook his head. “Man, that’s a lot of time.”

“No better time of death?” Tony asked.

“Not until the autopsy…maybe…hopefully.” All Ray could do was shrug.

“Okay. Hey, thanks for the shot, Ray.”

At first Bankston turned to walk away, but he decided to get this one thing out of the way now; hopefully get it out of the way for good, but he doubted it. He was remembering the attitude he’d gotten earlier at the crime scene, the sarcastic replies. Now would be a good time to set the young detective straight.

“Tony, I have an idea what’s going on in your head right now. After six-some years on the force you think you know some things, and so far you’ve shown me that you do. Some things, okay? But there’s this chip on your shoulder. You get pissy pretty quick sometimes.”

Tony met his gaze. Both faces were set and serious.

Ray continued. “I don’t do pissy, de Luca. I don’t play politics. I don’t play games. I clear cases. I like spirit. I like young detectives who have a little fire in their bellies. Point your spirit and your fire at clearing this case, not at me because I want things done a certain way.”

“Yes sir.” Tony’s voice was flat, showing no emotion. He heard what Ray was saying, both the words and what was between the lines. He got it. If there was any anger he’d point it at himself for being a dumb ass. Ray was right.

“I don’t do ‘sir’, either. Tony, you’re enrolled in ‘Murder 101’ now. Go talk to the son and his roommates. Find out where they say they were Sunday night and Monday morning. Find someone to back them up and if you think someone’s lying to you, find someone to back them up. Get a feel for them. Stay in touch. Ask me questions. Bounce your thoughts off me. Someone who knew Deanna Fredrickson killed her and she was a popular lady. She knew lots of people.”

“You can count on me, Ray.” Tony was grateful, truly grateful, for the words, for the lesson.

Bankston merely nodded and walked away thinking to himself ‘and don’t ever sass me again, boy’.

Tony found himself alone in the meeting room with Carol Offord. Well, he thought, I couldn’t duck her forever.

“Tony.”

“Carol. How have you been?” De Luca had no idea what to expect from her. The affair had been short lived and over for what, a year? Two? That long ago?

Carol was tall for a woman. She almost met Tony eye-to-eye when she looked at him. Tony took in what would have been a pretty, high cheek-boned face except for the eyes. Gray wisps teased at her black short hair. Carol had flinty blue, almost gray eyes that always looked sad and resigned, like she had seen too many bad things in her years on the force. He remembered she favored no nonsense business suits, just like the one she wore now, and that it likely hid some outrageous lacy nothings underneath. They’d had a few laughs. It hadn’t ended badly or sadly, it had just ended.

“I’ve been good. Good. Congratulations.” Carol offered her hand.

“Thanks. It’s a little overwhelming.” Tony took it. Her skin was cool and dry and smooth.

“I’d thought you’d have called. What’s it been, a year?” She was still holding on.

“About that I guess.” Here it comes, he thought. I really don’t need to deal with this right now.

“I got a divorce, you know.” Carol smiled and finally let go of his hand.

Was she telling him something? Hinting? Flirting? “I heard that.” What was it Ray said? No politics. No games. Clear cases. “Look, I gotta head out. I’m doing the son and the roommates. This will be good, working together.” He nodded, trying to convince himself that it would be, maybe reassuring Carol.

Carol looked down at the floor. “It wasn’t because of you, of us…the divorce.” Maybe she was more nervous than she looked. No politics. No games.

“That’s good.”

“Was it the age thing?”

The age thing?

Tony was twenty-nine then, Carol at least ten years older. It had felt a little naughty at first, he remembered-getting it on with an older woman. A little weird, but what the hell, they were both adults. He hadn’t really thought about it much. She obviously had.

“No. Not at all,” Tony said. “We just went in different directions-at least that’s what I thought.”

“Sure, that’s it, different directions. And we both end up here.” A cloud passed over Carol’s face, a worry, something flickered in her eyes. Tony had no idea what.

“Are you okay, Carol?”

“I’d like to talk. Away from here. A drink later maybe?” There was too much hopefulness in the question. Tony was uneasy, hell, he was worried now. One of the reasons it had ended was that Carol was a little intense for him.

“I’m seeing someone,” he said.

“So am I,” she snapped back, turning, and striding off. Tony watched her walk away thinking he really didn’t need this right now. She turned at the doorway.

“Didn’t seem to matter before,” she said, and then she was gone.

Chapter 5

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Tony really was sorry even though he hadn’t known the woman, Deanna. He was sure it sounded hollow and insincere, almost rote, as he faced the three young men sitting on the couch. Two of them looked sad. One looked devastated-red-eyed, disheveled, and dispirited.

“You didn’t even know her,” one of the boys snarled. That was Scotty, the son. The other two nodded.

“You’re right, but I’m still sorry.” They fell into an awkward silence. Tony had a job to do though, so he put his street cop face on and took the next step. “I need to talk to each of you, ask a few questions. I need to do it separately.”

That got them all bristling and changed their expressions.

“You can’t possibly think any of us had anything to do with it.” That was from the young man named David Hong. “No fucking way, dude.” Hong was big for an Asian, Tony thought. Then he realized Hong was probably Samoan. Regardless, he was definitely offensive guard sized.