“Yeah, it’s as clean a cut as a surgeon’s incision,” Riley said.
“No visible signs of break-in, no fingerprints, no fibers, no nothing, which usually indicates a slim-jim was used. After our investigators removed the door panels, they confirmed it was indeed a slim-jim based on the scratch marks on the X plate that holds the window frame.” Lucio’s lips tightened, causing a muscle to flicker in his jaw. “We had hoped to find prints on the dome light that had been disabled, but that proved fruitless. The killer definitely knows what he’s doing.”
“That poor woman,” Max said. “What a brutal way to die.”
“I’ll say. Because of the horrific nature of the crime and the fact that nothing was removed from her wallet, and everything else was intact, we believe our killer has an ax to grind. Until today, we’ve had no leads, but after listening to your case, it’s beginning to sound like they may be related somehow.” Lucio picked up a bottle of water and unscrewed the cap, slugging back another drink.
“We’ve questioned the victim’s estranged husband, who was fighting for custody of their three-year-old daughter. There was legal action going on between the two, but now that she’s dead, he’ll get his custody. Naturally, he was our first suspect, but he’s in Florida shacking up with his current main squeeze.” Lucio rubbed his hand across his jawline.
“The Chambers woman told us the father hadn’t started paying support yet, so she was paying the freight since her daughter didn’t have a job.” He shrugged. “Our forensic investigators combed the fabric off the seats in the vehicle for fibers or hair follicles to no avail, and we’re thinking it’s because he must have worn a suit or something.” Lucio held up his hands. “That’s all I’ve got so far.”
Next was Howe’s turn. His face remained void of emotion while he spoke. “I don’t know what to think about my case with this sixteen-year-old. I’ve gone back and forth with various witnesses, but no one seems to know anything. Surveillance has been viewed a million times, and we’ve interviewed nurses who had access to the recovery room, orderlies, and the nurse who administers the drugs—we came up empty.” Howe looked up from the report to catch his breath, then continued. “Fortunately, they’re all cooperating, but the nurses are really shaken, and rightfully so, because we’re still looking at them.”
Lucio said, “Who else has access to those meds besides the one nurse on that floor?”
“No one. We did find an empty syringe in the trash can in the public restroom down the hall from the kid’s room. The lab is testing the inside of it to determine if it’s the same drug that killed her. Not surprising, there are no prints. Our forensic experts have combed the room for clothing fibers, and they did find several pieces; maybe they’ll contain the person’s DNA. All are currently being analyzed by the lab, as is a small thread that turned out to be canvas. We’re speculating it could have been from a duffel bag. Whether it’s the killer’s or not, we don’t know, but we hope it shows something when it’s analyzed.”
Max’s mind temporarily blocked out Howe’s monotone voice, wondering how his peers worked alongside a man who showed little emotion. Forcing herself back, she sat up straighter in her chair.
Howe continued. “We’ve checked the meds against the surgeries performed at New York Presbyterian, but it all balances out. I can’t imagine the nurses are covering for one another, but you never know. As for any link to your case, the child’s parents don’t work at Mount Sinai, so where’s the connection?”
“Did you check the database for the kid’s relatives?” Riley asked.
“How about Valerie Morrison? Does that ring a bell?” Max asked.
Howe immediately checked through his notes. “Okay, I did speak to her, but she arrived after the kid died. My notes say she’s the aunt—sister of the victim’s father. I think I’ll go talk to her again.” Howe pinched his nose. “I still can’t get over the fact that these parents allowed a sixteen-year-old to have a nose job because some kid where she volunteers told her she looked like Pinocchio. It’s just absurd.” He shook his head again. “Parents today are too easy on their kids.” Howe’s perturbed voice rose.
“Do you know where she volunteered?” Max asked.
“I don’t know, some preschool.” He shrugged. “All I know is she read stories every week to the kids. Why is that significant?” Howe asked.
“Because our victim founded a preschool called The Little Tykes Academy. If she worked there, maybe it’s connected somehow,” Riley responded, trying to get a word in edgewise.
Turning toward Lucio, Max questioned him next. “Do you know if Sharlene’s daughter was enrolled in a daycare facility?”
“Now, that’s interesting,” Lucio said. “I will check it out and get back to you.”
“You might also consider checking with all the surrounding hospitals to ask if their drug usage is on target,” Max suggested.
“Good point. We should both check on that,” Lucio said to Howe, who nodded in agreement.
“Okay,” Howe said, giving the table a knock with his knuckle, “it looks like we do have some similarities, Max, and I don’t think we can ignore those nuances. All these cases have possible connections that start with your victim.”
Max gathered her paperwork and stood to leave, tossing her empty coffee container in the trash can along the way. “Let’s keep each other in the loop so we can compare notes as we go along. Thanks for meeting us today. We’ll talk soon.”
Riley and Max walked to the car. “I think we should examine the hospital medical records for patients who have grievances against Mount Sinai or Barrett.” He switched his briefcase into his other hand. “When you consider how much time patients needing transplants have spent in the hospital leading up to the actual transplant, there’s bound to be a lot of complaints.” He unlocked the car and opened the back door, putting his briefcase on the backseat.
“This is an excellent time to do that, Riley.” She checked her notes. “The Stansbury child had her transplant on July 2, so let’s request files from April through October. If we don’t find anything, then we’ll go back farther.”
“I’ll call the ADA for the subpoena when we get back to the precinct and serve them on Mrs. Morrison. It’s going to take forty-eight hours for their legal team to review and ask questions anyway,” Riley said.
“And while you’re at it, I also want warrants for Stansbury’s and Barrett’s offices, residences, and even their yachts.”
“You’ve got it.”
After easing into traffic, Riley brushed a hand over his face and released an exhausted sigh, catching Max’s attention. “Boy, after last night’s slumber party, I’m glad we didn’t have the number of kids my wife said she wanted when we first married. I never would have survived.”
“As my sister always says, every parent should experience a slumber party just once.” She grinned. “It’s all good.”
“Yeah, real good”—Riley deadpanned—“when someone else has the party.” He chuckled. “It was good for the boys, though.”
When Max’s phone rang, she smiled at seeing Cory’s name flash across the screen, and her heart skipped a beat.
“I was wondering if you’d join me for dinner tonight?” he said. Without waiting for her to respond, he interjected a thought. “I mean, you have to eat, so it might as well be with me so we can talk.”
“Okay, yes, I’d like that. Where would you like to meet?”
“Do you like Mexican food?”
“I do.”
“Toloache. You okay with that?”
“More than okay,” Max said, as Riley weaved the car through the traffic. “I have a busy day today, but will look forward to our meeting.”
“I take it Riley’s sitting next to you.”
“That would be correct.”
Cory gave a low chuckle. “Okay, I’ll make the reservations for six thirty,” he said. “Pick you up outside the precinct.” She thought she heard him sigh. “I can’t wait,” he said and
disconnected. His comment had her pulse pounding.
She set the phone down next to her then glanced over at Riley, who was grinning. She asked herself who she thought she was kidding. If Riley didn’t suspect something, then he wasn’t paying attention.
Max meandered outside the precinct door and was surprised to see Cory get out of a cab.
The wide smile on his face told her he was excited to see her. “I figured I’d let someone else do the driving tonight so I can give you my undivided attention.” Her stomach felt like a million butterflies were doing jumping jacks. Just as she was ducking down into the vehicle, he snuck in a kiss. “Sorry, I’ve been holding on to that, and I couldn’t let the moment pass.”
Max kissed him back. “Me too.”
He reached his arm around her, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. His nearness gave her a feeling of complete contentment, as though this was where she belonged.
When the cab pulled up in front of the restaurant, Max was reminded of how much curb appeal it had. The familiar wooden-framed French doors seemed to be an architectural staple since most of the restaurants on that street used them. In addition to giving the place a homey feel, it also gave passersby a view of the busy dining room. During the warmer weather when the doors were left open, the aroma of food permeated the air and lured customers inside. Of course, having Times Square just mere blocks away didn’t hurt either.
Cory held the door open for Max to walk inside. She stopped to admire the brick walls dotted with white plaster, which provided the framework for the décor, an authentic touch of old Mexico. Arched window inserts above each table supported wine storage above them. The core of the restaurant had two rows of tables and a long bar on the opposite side of the dining room to meet everyone’s needs.
After being greeted by the hostess, Cory requested a quiet spot. It was still early by New York’s standard dinner hour, which was after nine o’clock. The hostess weaved through the restaurant and led them to the perfect table next to a crackling fire.
“So what’s on your mind?” Max asked after the waiter took their drink orders.
He chuckled. “You are always on my mind. You’ve been working extra hard, and I thought this would be a good opportunity for us to relax together and let our hair down. Do you think you can relax and not think about work?”
“How sweet of you. I can absolutely do that. Thank you.”
“I also thought it would be a good time for us to discuss our relationship.” Cory held her gaze in an unflinching stare, obviously waiting for her reaction to his comment. “I know you’re feeling something.”
She laughed. “Cory, Cory, Cory, you’re such a romantic.”
“Are you saying that’s a bad thing?” he asked.
“Not at all. You make me smile because you always seem to say the right things . . . most of the time.” She stopped talking when the waiter set the margaritas down in front of them. They each took a sip. “That goes down nice and easy,” Max said. “Maybe a little too easy.”
“Max, I want us to be a couple,” Cory blurted out.
She peered over the top of the menu. “You do?” Actually, she shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d made no secret of the depth of his feelings for her. She set the menu down and steepled her fingers. “I’m truly flattered, honestly, I am, but how can you be so sure after only two dates?”
“Well, let’s see. First, it’s not just two dates, it’s our third, and secondly, every time we’re together feels like a date to me. Doesn’t it feel that way to you?”
Hearing Cory’s declaration made her heart swell—something she hadn’t felt in years, but they had a long way to go yet. “Yes, I guess it does, well, except when we’re at odds with one another.”
“Yeah, but that’s all part of the process. Seriously, you wouldn’t want our relationship to be rosy all the time, would you?” He gave her an odd look. “Where’s the fun in that? It’s the discovery of each other’s personalities, likes, and dislikes. That’s what makes a romance solid, because by the time you fall madly in love, you’ve already learned the good, the bad, and the ugly. If you’re still standing after all of that, then it’s true love. That’s what I want for us.”
She could hear the sincerity in his words, and she certainly loved hearing all his wonderful compliments, but she was slightly apprehensive. “I told you before, I don’t want to be your rebound girl.”
“Oh Lord.” He heaved a breath. “Max, please get this through that head of yours, you’re not. I swear to you. I went with Lyndsey for three months—I wasn’t in love with her, so how could you be a rebound? I’m not going to say I haven’t dated other women, and I won’t tell you I didn’t have a long relationship while I was in law school, but that was more about being away from home and out on my own. Besides, Lyndsey wanted to wear the pants in our relationship. I believe in equal partnerships, and then after that breakup, the rest were just dates because I no longer trusted women. But what we’re building is different. Whenever we’re together, it feels like the beginning of spring when the air smells sweet from the budding trees.” He reached for her hand and she felt the electricity of his touch surge through her like a delicious blitz of heat.
“I’ve never had anyone say such nice things to me, and sometimes it feels like I’m dreaming and it’s not reality.”
“Does it scare you?”
“A little.”
“In what way? Like I’m being insincere?”
“I guess.”
“Well, let me assure you that I have never”—he held his hand up to swear—“said these things to any other woman—not even the one in law school. Being with you feels natural to me, so why look further? I just want to cultivate what we have and keep it going.”
“Okay. I concede and definitely agree we have something very special going on between us.” She grinned a wide smile, no longer hiding the excitement. It was true, she was crazy about this man, and if she had only one wish, it would be to make him feel as secure with her as she felt when she was with him.
“The truth is I knew you were special on that first date,” he said. “When a man knows, he knows. And regardless of how Jack’s case turns out, I’m still going to be crazy about you. It’ll break my heart if he is found guilty, but I’ll just have to accept his fate.” He stopped talking when the waiter appeared and interrupted the conversation. “Do you know what you want to eat?” he asked. She nodded and they ordered their food. They continued the conversation after the waiter walked away.
Max liked knowing he was crazy about her. If they could get along after this case, maybe they were meant to be together. If not, nothing ventured, nothing gained. “And I’m sure you want to know when I knew we had something special?”
“Of course.” He shut his eyes tight as though afraid of what she was going to say. “Please tell me. I’m dying to know.”
“When you told me the truth about what happened with your suspension. You went from zero to thirty in a matter of seconds.”
“So I guess it is a good thing I didn’t accept your invitation to your apartment that night.”
“Yeah, it probably was.”
“So what do you want to know about me?” he asked.
“You said you were very close to your family. Tell me about them.”
He smiled warmly. “I have a great family.”
“It sure sounds it.” She took another sip of her drink.
“I come from an immigrant family who came to the United States from Italy. My grandfather was a blue-collar worker who never missed a day of work. When he first arrived at Ellis Island, he met my friend Greg’s grandfather, and together they partnered in a clothing business with the few dollars they’d saved up before coming to the States. Their hard work and determination paid off, because their business thrived and provided both families a secure future. After my parents married, my father, whose dream was to work in a restaurant in the States, and eventually open his own, quickly learned starting at the bottom
was not going to give him the kind of wages he needed to support a family, so he went to work for my grandfather. There’s three of us. I have two amazing sisters who dote on me, and of course, I love it. My family and Greg’s built a profitable company out of nothing.”
The arrival of the food had both of them inhaling the smell. Cory didn’t waste any time digging in. “All through my childhood, every Sunday and every holiday, the entire family, with all the in-laws and Greg’s entire family in tow, gathered around my parents’ table to have a feast.”
“Aw, that sounds so wonderful. You’re a good family man, Cory Rossini.”
“Thank you. How about you?” he asked.
“I have my sister, Julie, who has twin girls.”
“That’s right. You did mention a sister,” he said.
She nodded. “My sister and I are two years apart. Our father died when I was just a baby, and eventually my mother remarried. The man she married was a lout—drank, couldn’t hold down a job. My mother worked two jobs, often the night shift, to support all of us. My mother was an angel, and I adored her.” Max stopped talking and swallowed hard.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s hard talking about it because I relive those days every time it comes to my mind.”
“Then, Max, stop, you don’t have to tell me anything.”
“No, I do. If we’re ever going to make this work, you need to know everything about me.” She took a deep breath and blew it out, pausing to find the right words. After a few seconds, she knew there was no right way to say it and finally blurted it out. “My adoptive father abused me and my sister, although I had no idea she was going through the same thing until the ordeal was over.” Cory’s mouth dropped open. He reached for her hand and rubbed his thumb over her skin. “It started when I was eight years old.” Cory shook his head in disbelief.
Blind Retribution Page 20
