Deep Dark (The DeLuca Family Book 3)

by Amy Reece

  He forced himself to focus on work and unlocked his desk drawer, shuffling through the files until he found the one he’d started for the investigation into Izzy’s stalker, or whatever she was. He re-read the transcript from the interview with George Lyon three times, looking for any clue he’d missed, but it was over fifty pages and he couldn’t find anything useful. He flipped the booklet over and found himself staring at a copy of the police sketch of the woman. Where have I seen her before? It was maddening, but he couldn’t quite place the face. Almost, but it was still out of reach. He ran his hands through his hair as he sat back in his chair and growled in frustration. Darius came in a few minutes later.

  “I got it.” He sat in front of his computer and plugged in the flash drive. He clicked on the icon on the desktop and the security feed video began playing. They watched it through, then Mac backed it up and zoomed in the car.

  “I think I can see the ponytail Izzy talked about. There.” He pointed to the screen.

  Darius leaned closer, squinting. “If you say so.” He continued to look for a moment then sat back. “Did you look over the rest of the evidence?”

  “Yeah, but there’s sure not much. The interview with Lyon was a bust and I’ve been staring at that damn sketch every day trying to figure out where I’ve seen her. It’s driving me nuts!”

  “Let me see it again.” Darius held out his hand for the picture. “Hmm. You know, this kind of reminds me of Lyon’s receptionist. What was her name?”

  Mac snatched the sketch from Darius and swore. “Shit! You’re a genius, Dar. That’s why she looked so familiar! This is Gina! Come on! We need to get over to Lyon Millwork now!”

  “Whoa, slow down, Mac.” He handed the sketch back to him. “It may be the receptionist, but we can’t just go rushing over there to confront Lyon.” He held up his hand to forestall the objection Mac started to launch into. “We’re out of our jurisdiction with that part of the investigation and you know it!”

  Mac grumbled but reached for his phone. “Fine. I’ll call Finn and see if we can tag along when they go.”

  The two detectives were happy to have their Homeland Security colleagues accompany them, so Mac and Darius met them an hour later outside Lyon Millwork.

  “Okay, Mac,” Chris spoke as she studied the copy of the police sketch she held in her hands. “You’re sure about this? I didn’t get a good look at Lyon’s receptionist when we arrested him.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. She’s the same woman who’s been after Izzy. She walked out that day and told us she quit, but we can get her full name from Lyon.”

  “Well, let’s do this. Finn is going to do the talking today; ol’ George took a disliking to me when we had him in custody.” She shrugged and slipped the drawing in the folder she carried.

  Mac resisted—barely—the temptation to check his watch and urge them to hurry. This was the strongest lead—and pretty much the only one—they’d had so far, and he was eager to verify his conclusions. He clamped his lips together and waited while the others checked their weapons and attended to various other useless details. Finally, Finn led the way into the building that housed the finish carpentry shop.

  The men running the noisy machinery looked up curiously as their entourage passed through on the way to the stairwell leading to the upstairs offices. A new receptionist was seated at the desk, this one a middle-aged woman with short, blonde hair.

  “How may I help you?” If she was startled to see four law enforcement officers, two with visible sidearms, she covered it well.

  Finn flashed his badge as he spoke. “We need a few moments of Mr. Lyon’s time.”

  She simply nodded and picked up the phone. “You can go straight back.”

  George Lyon glanced up from his desktop computer, grimacing, as they entered his office. “Again? Do I need to call my lawyer?”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary, Mr. Lyon,” Finn said. “We have a few questions for you. It will take just a couple minutes of your time.”

  “Fine, but if I don’t like where this is going, I’m calling my attorney.”

  “Of course,” Finn agreed amiably. Mac had to admire his people skills. “We would like to know more about your previous receptionist, Gina.”

  “That bitch? Why do you want to know about her?” Lyon stood, agitated, fishing in his shirt pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He lit one, daring the detectives with a glance to naysay him. “She walked out the day you all barged in here to arrest me. She didn’t even call my lawyer.”

  “We need her full name and any contact information you have for her.” Finn smiled calmly. “How long did she work for you?”

  “Nearly five years.” Lyon frowned but picked up his phone. “Grace, get me the personnel file on Gina Rodale.”

  No one spoke while they waited for the file to arrive. When the receptionist appeared with the file, Lyon took it, opened it, and pulled out a single sheet, which he handed back to the woman. “Make a copy of this and bring it back.”

  The copy was delivered in under a minute.

  “Here.” Lyon handed it to Finn. “Anything else? I do have a business to run, you know.”

  “Of course, but I wonder if we might also ask about your accounting department?”

  “Department?” Lyon laughed. “We’ve never had more than a bookkeeper. I had the same one for years, but he left about four years ago. I haven’t had much luck finding a good one since then.”

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Lyon. We can see ourselves out.” Finn ushered the other three toward the door.

  As soon as they reached the parking lot, Mac rounded on him, hand outstretched for the paper. He scanned the contents quickly. “She lives in an apartment not too far from here.”

  “Let’s go see if the lovely Gina is home,” Chris said. “I doubt we could get a warrant for her arrest right now, but let’s see what she has to say.”

  She was, and answered their knock with a smile. “Well, if it isn’t the delicious Detective DeLuca and your Homeland Security friends. Do come in.” She completely ignored Chris as she held the door open wide for them. “What can I do for you?”

  “Ms. Rodale,” Chris began, “You were working for George Lyon until a few weeks ago. Is that correct?”

  “Yes. I walked out the day the old man got arrested. I don’t need that kind of drama in my life.” She sat in a side chair, crossing her legs, causing her short skirt to ride far up her thighs. She was an attractive woman and obviously used her wiles working on the men in her vicinity.

  “And have you found another job yet?” Finn asked.

  Gina turned a dazzling smile on him. “No. It seems no one’s hiring.”

  “Ms. Rodale, where were you last Thursday at approximately 12:30 p.m.?” Chris asked.

  “Hmm, let me think.” She tapped a long, coral-colored fingernail against her teeth. “You know, I don’t remember. I was probably right here.” She spread her arms and gestured around the tidy apartment.

  “Chris, can I talk to you for a minute?” Mac motioned for her to join him by the front door. He turned his back to the rest of the group and spoke quietly. “Can we get her in a line up? Izzy might be able to identify her and the waitress at the restaurant got a good look at her. We’re not going to get anything useful from talking to her.” He jerked his head toward Gina.

  Chris narrowed her eyes at him for a moment. “We can take her in for questioning and hold her for 24 hours. That should be long enough to arrange a line up.” She turned toward the others. “Ms. Rodale, we’re going to need you to come with us for more questioning.”

  “Are you arresting me? On what charge?”

  “No, not at this time. But I am requesting that you accompany us to our precinct for questioning.” Chris’s voice was firm, brooking no refusal.

  Gina glared at her and stood. “Fine. Let me get my purse.”

  Mac noticed the others all reach to rest their hands on their sidearms as Gina fetched her handbag from the ha
ll closet. He’d done the same thing, of course. You could never be sure when a suspect might be reaching for a gun.

  It took nearly four hours, but they were finally able to track down the waitress who’d witnessed the woman leave the restaurant after Izzy was attacked. Mac had driven to Izzy’s office to pick her up, and now held her hand as she stepped close to the viewing window.

  “Number four. That’s the woman who attacked me.” Izzy’s voice was strong, but Mac detected a slight quaver. He squeezed her hand.

  “Are you sure, Izzy?” Finn asked.

  “Yes,” she said with a nod. “I saw her face in the mirror as she stood behind me. That’s her.”

  Chris nodded. “The waitress also gave a positive I.D. You did great, Izzy.”

  “Are you going to arrest her?” Izzy asked.

  Chris nodded. “Yeah. You’ve been really brave through all this, hon. It’s over. We’ve got her. I’ve got to question her now. You’ll make sure she gets home?” Chris raised her eyebrows at Mac.

  “Of course. What about the protective detail?”

  “I imagine it will end tonight, once they bring Janey home. If she somehow gets out on bail, I’ll make sure it gets reactivated, I promise. I don’t think she will, though.”

  Once in the cab of Mac’s SUV, Izzy turned to him, wariness in her eyes. “Is it over, Mac? Really?”

  “I don’t know, hon. I think so.”

  She launched herself into his arms and held him, her hands fisting the back of his shirt. “I need it to be over.”

  He felt the same way, but worried there was more to come.

  Chapter Twelve

  Izzy

  She slid the stuffed pork roast in the oven and turned her attention to the wild rice pilaf she planned as an accompaniment, reveling in the freedom of having her kitchen to herself—no police officer in sight. They’d all been friendly and understanding, but she much preferred this return to normal. Janey was in the family room with Mac’s father, watching a movie and coloring. David was leaving the following day, returning to his home in Cleveland, and everyone was going to miss him—especially Janey. Izzy was putting extra effort into the meal, hoping to make it a special farewell dinner. She’d grown to love David over the past few weeks and was sad to see him leave. She knew Mac wished he didn’t have to leave, either. He’d been so busy with the investigation—as well as his regular workload—since his dad arrived, he felt like he hadn’t spent enough time with him. Izzy was determined to create a warm, loving, and delicious celebration for David’s last night with them.

  At least Mac was in a better mood since they’d arrested that woman, Gina Rodale. He’d reluctantly accepted the end of the protective detail—he hadn’t had a choice, of course—and seemed to finally sleep soundly the night before. Izzy suppressed a shudder as she thought of the woman who’d tried to run her over and had stabbed a knife in her back. Enough! Don’t think about it tonight. She’s in jail and my daughter and I are safe. The future was definitely looking bright and Izzy was ready to embrace it.

  The pork roast was nearly done and filling the house with a delectable aroma when Mac got home, a brown bakery box in his arms. “I picked up that cake Janey likes, that berry and cream thing.” He set the box on the counter and pulled Izzy into his arms for a long kiss. “Mmm. You taste good.”

  She grinned and pulled his head down for another kiss. “You too,” she murmured against his lips. “Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes. Your dad is in the family room with Janey.”

  “You need any help in here, love?”

  “No. It’s all nearly done. Go wash up.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a half-grin and a salute.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you implying I’m bossy?”

  He laughed, but didn’t answer as he exited the kitchen.

  “And make sure Janey washes her hands too,” she called after him.

  ***

  “Izzy, this is the best meal I’ve had since the last time I was here.” David pushed his plate away and sighed with satisfaction. “I couldn’t eat another bite.”

  “Thanks, David. You are a wonderful dinner guest, the kind it’s fun to cook for.” Izzy had always enjoyed cooking for an appreciative audience. Janey didn’t qualify, as she could exist on quesadillas and macaroni and cheese, and Mac would eat anything, no doubt a product of his many years in the military.

  “Grandpa Dave, did you save room for cake?” Janey slid from her chair and moved to sit on her grandfather’s lap.

  “Well, I don’t know.” He curled an arm around the little girl while he patted his stomach. “I’m pretty full, but maybe I can manage a small piece.”

  “We can share a piece, Grandpa!”

  Izzy caught David’s amused glance, but he readily agreed to share cake with Janey. As she watched her daughter fork a mouthful of creamy frosted cake in her grandfather’s mouth, Izzy realized it was one of the precious moments she would keep close to her heart for years to come. She looked over at Mac to see if he had noticed; judging by the misty look in his eyes, he was well aware.

  “Dad, are you sure you have to go back to Cleveland? I really like having you here with us.”

  David swallowed the bite Janey had just fed him, then cleared his throat. “Well, son, I’m glad to hear you say that, because I’m seriously considering relocating here permanently. Everything I care about is in Albuquerque.” He paused to kiss the top of Janey’s head. “I’m retired and can travel wherever I need for my contract work. I was thinking of going back to finish up the contract I’ve already promised and see about putting the house on the market.”

  Mac relaxed visibly. “Ah, Dad. That would be great. We can help you look for a new place, maybe nearby, when you get back.”

  David coughed slightly. “Um, I was actually thinking maybe I could rent your town house. It’s kind of perfect and I seriously need to downsize. I’d be interested in buying it from you if you decide to make this arrangement,” he gestured between Mac and Izzy, “more permanent.”

  Izzy froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. She darted her eyes sideways to see Mac’s reaction. Rather than shock, he was smiling crookedly at his father, shaking his head slightly, as if to say, ‘well played.’ David looked amused and raised his eyebrows at his son questioningly.

  “We haven’t really had a chance to talk about it yet, Dad. It’s been kind of busy and stressful around here lately.” Mac calmly forked another bite of cake into his mouth.

  “Oh, of course. I thought I’d mention it, nevertheless.” He sipped his coffee, a small smile hovering on his lips.

  Izzy set her fork on her plate, the bite of cake uneaten and unwanted. What in the world? This dinner couldn’t get more awkward!

  “Can I have a baby brother?” Janey asked.

  Well, I guess I was wrong. It can get a whole lot more awkward. Mac dropped his fork with a clatter, David choked on his coffee, and Izzy screeched, “What? Why would you ask that, Janey?”

  The little girl appeared completely unfazed by the adults’ dramatic reactions. “’Cuz Auntie Mel is having a baby and Uncle Hugh said I’ll probably have lots of cousins because he has so many brothers and sisters. I want brothers and sisters too, but I want a baby brother first.” She licked the last of the frosting from her fork and smiled up at her grandfather.

  “Janey, sweetheart, I, well, we…” Izzy looked helplessly at Mac, begging for help.

  Mac laughed ruefully and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Listen, Princess, all I can say is I promise you’ll be the first to know if we decide to have a baby, okay?”

  “Okay.” She seemed satisfied by her father’s answer and slipped off David’s lap. “I’m going to get my jammies on.”

  Izzy watched her daughter skip out of the dining room and wished she could escape too. What must Mac be thinking? Poor guy, to be put on the spot like this! She had no idea what to say, so she simply began clearing the table. David, with an apologetic glance, stood t
o help her.

  “I’ll go check on Janey,” Mac said and escaped.

  David told her he’d clear the table while she stacked the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. When she finished, she turned to find him seated at the kitchen table. “I’m sorry, Izzy. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  She chuckled softly and sat across from him. “It’s all right. I think you took us by surprise, that’s all. And Janey’s question came out of the blue.”

  “Oh, I don’t think Mac was terribly surprised…by my question, at least. I’ll concede Janey’s question was a shock to everyone.”

  She didn’t know what to say, so she fell back on hospitality. “Can I make you some tea, David?”

  “No, thank you. I need to get going. My flight leaves early tomorrow.”

  Mac and Janey reappeared in time to send David off with hugs and kisses and the promise of his quick return.

  Once he’d left, Mac scooped a tearful Janey over his shoulder and carried her to bed. Izzy poured them each a glass of Malbec and sat on the sofa, wondering how awkward it would be between them.