by Gina LaManna
“Well, we’re not sure, but we’re looking for him.”
“He ain’t here.”
“Has he been here recently?”
She sighed. “Yeah, I suppose.”
“How recently?”
“Like, an hour ago?” She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “He had to get going. I mean, the man works. He’s in high demand. He can’t sit on the couch all day.”
“Understandable,” I said, all too aware that we were having this conversation in broad daylight on Gayle’s front porch. But she gave no sign of inviting us in, so I continued. “Can you describe your relationship with him?”
“We’re dating.”
“Exclusively?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just a question,” I said. “Are you and Joe exclusively in a relationship?”
“Yeah right,” she said. “No, it’s not exclusive. Not for him anyway, he makes that pretty freaking clear.”
“And you’re okay with that situation?”
“Would you be okay with it?”
I hadn’t expected Gayle to throw the question back in my face, and it took me by surprise. “If you could just answer me, please.”
“I mean, I know what you’re thinking.” Gayle obliged. “You probably think that I’m an idiot for involving myself with a guy like Joe. He’s not exactly promising me the picket fence and a rock on my finger, but I’m fine with it. I’ve been married before, and I didn’t find it all it was cracked up to be. He serves my purposes.”
“How’d you meet Joe?”
“I used to work at a bar he’d come into.”
“May I ask which one?”
“Ladies of Luxury. I know I’ve put on a few pounds, but I was a real looker when I was younger. Now I stock shelves at Walgreens. How the mighty have fallen.”
“I see. Do you know where we’ll be able to find Joe this evening?”
“I dunno. Why don’t you ask the girl he stayed with last night? I know he was with her. I could smell her freaking perfume.”
“Ms. Barnes, this is a murder investigation,” I said. “If we find out that you’ve been withholding information from us, we’ll press charges.”
“Oh, boy. Joe killed someone?” She gave a low whistle. “I’m not getting put away for him, that’s for sure. I’m being honest, though, I don’t know anything about a murder.”
“I believe you,” I said. “Do you know anything about anything else?”
“Joe Ricci hasn’t led a straight-and-narrow sorta life since he learned how to walk. He was involved with the usual stuff.”
“Please be more specific.”
“I wasn’t involved in his businesses. He’d come over after my shifts sometimes, and we’d hang out. That’s it. Physical relationship.”
“This afternoon?”
“We didn’t have sex, if that’s what you’re asking. Though that’s a very nosy question.”
“Then why did he stop by if your relationship was only physical?”
“Sometimes he liked to come by and watch TV. Talk. I made him a sandwich. We really are friends.” There was a note of fondness in Gayle’s voice that surprised me. She cared for Joe in some odd way. “We just hung out, like I said. Then he left for business, but I couldn’t tell you specifics. I got out of that business when I hung up my stripper boots.”
“That business being...”
“You saw the charge I’ve got on my record,” she said. “Well, Joe... took care of me back then. He wasn’t a pimp or anything, but he helped out. Found interested guys and brought them around to the club. He got paid per head. Think of him as a recruiter of sorts.”
Jimmy just nodded.
“Does he still do this sort of work?” I asked. “It’s fine if you don’t know, but if you had to guess, what would you say?”
“I’d say maybe. The dude would sell his sister for enough cash.”
“What about murder?” I asked. “This isn’t the first homicide case Joe’s been a person of interest in.”
“I didn’t know that.” She ran her tongue nervously over her front teeth. “But I have to say, I’m super not involved with that. Like, as far away as you can be.”
“Thank you for your help,” I said, running dry on additional questions. “Do you know the next time he’ll be stopping by? We really do need to speak with him.”
“No offense, but I don’t want you to come back. I’m staying out of this. And plus, the neighbors will talk if I’ve got cops hanging on my doorstep.”
“If you can give us another location where we can find him, that would solve a lot of our problems,” I said. “Any chance you know his friends? I hear he plays in a poker game now and again.”
Gayle’s face lit up. “Oh, now that makes a ton of sense.”
“What does?”
“I lied a little bit to you. Maybe I stretched the truth more than lied,” she corrected. “You guessed it right. I don’t really appreciate that Joe keeps seeing the other women. I don’t need to get married, but he’s being sort of inconsiderate to me.”
“Sort of.”
“So, I followed him the other night to see who was so important to him that he couldn’t commit to me. Joe’s picky, mind you.”
“I’ll trust you on that.”
“I waited outside of his place last week. When he left, I followed him. He didn’t go to the club though, which surprised me. He didn’t even go to anyone’s house. He went to some weird Asian restaurant that looked like it’s been closed for years.”
“Do you know which restaurant?”
“Not too far from here.” She gestured. “Just up White Bear Avenue. The one with the dragon sign out front that looks like nobody’s home.”
“I know the one,” I said. “Did he go inside?”
“Yeah. I couldn’t follow him, either. I mean, it was creepy. The lights looked dark.”
“Were others with him?”
“I couldn’t tell. He drove around back and parked, but the lot is all shielded by trees. I just stayed across the street and a little down the block at a gas station. It freaked me out. If he was meeting a girl there, good riddance to them. That’s not something I want to be involved in.”
“I can see why. Old Asian food doesn’t exactly scream romance,” I said. “How long did you wait at the gas station?”
She gave a sheepish smile that lightened her features. “Longer than I care to admit.”
“We don’t care,” I said. “We just want to know what he’s up to.”
“Three a.m. So, about four hours. I had to pee then, and I didn’t want to use the gas station. Gross. So, I went home.”
“That means he arrived around eleven? Do you remember which day of the week it was?”
“It had to have been...” She chewed on her lip. “I got off at three that day, took a nap, which means it was a Saturday. I always get done early on Saturdays.”
Her answer was a pleasant turn of good fortune, seeing as Saturday night was looming closer and closer—if the game was once a week, it was logical to think the next game would be this evening. “Thank you, Gayle. You’ve been a huge help.”
“Leave me out of the rest of this, okay?”
“We’ll do our best.”
“By the way, is there another girl?” she asked. “You know, someone I should know about? Do you have a name?”
“I’m really sorry,” I said. “I can’t say.”
“That probably means yes,” she said and heaved her shoulders in a sigh. “My psychic told me I really should dump Joe.”
I surprised myself by nodding. “I happen to agree with your psychic.”
“That’s gotta be the first time you ever agreed with a psychic,” Jimmy said as we made our way back to our vehicles. “You’re really broadening your horizons.”
“Maybe I need a psychic,” I said. “Gayle’s seems like she knows what she’s talking about. I could use a little bit of help in my li
fe.”
“Love life drama or daddy issues?”
“I meant the case,” I said, but on second thought, shrugged. “But I wouldn’t pass up some personal advice, either.”
Gayle had shut the door before we were down the front steps. I only hoped she wouldn’t give Joe a heads up about our visit. That would put us another step behind, and we couldn’t afford that—especially since we might’ve just gotten our first break on Joe’s whereabouts.
“I’ve got some personal advice,” Jimmy said. “You’re not chasing Ricci to that poker game.”
“He’s like an eel,” I said. “He’s slippery. I’m not even sure he knows we’re looking in his direction, and we still can’t catch up to him. I have to give it a shot.”
“What about your date?”
I glanced at the clock. “I can probably get dinner done with Russo before the poker game is due to start. You up for a stakeout?”
Jimmy’s eyebrows shot up. “A dude flies across the country for you, buys you dinner, and you can’t take one night off to spend it with him? That’s harsh, detective.”
My gut squirmed. “He’ll understand.”
“Even so, he’s also a man. He wants to spend time with you. He didn’t fly in just to pay for your meals and send you back to work.”
“This might be our only chance to talk to Ricci.”
“So? Let me take Dunkirk. We’ll sit there, have a burger, wait for Ricci to come. If he does, we’ll talk to him.”
“But—”
“I’ve been doing this job a lot longer than you, Kate. I know you’re the new and shiny rising star, but I know a thing or two about interviewing a person of interest.”
“I trust you,” I said. “It’s just that—”
“Let it go,” Jimmy said. “The case doesn’t have to be as personal as you’re making it. Your dad was friends with a few guys who’ve been up to no good. So what? That might be all it is. Let us handle it.”
I bit my lip. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”
“Think hard,” Jimmy said. “Russo might have the patience of a saint, but it’ll run thin eventually. In order for a relationship of any sort to work, it has to be a two-way street. Right now, your roadblocks are all over the place.”
I blinked my eyes closed and rubbed the stress out of my forehead. “You’re right. I’m an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot.” Jimmy gave me an elbow nudge. “You’re just protective of yourself, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You’ve had to be—I know about your dad, about how you grew up. He’s messed with your mind enough.”
“Not on purpose,” I muttered. “He feels bad.”
“Just don’t let him mess this up too.” Jimmy looked at his watch. “Don’t you have to go get beautiful or something?
“Gee whiz, thanks.”
“You can pick up where we left off tomorrow.”
“What about tonight?”
“What about it?” Jimmy asked. “I’m going to get myself a nice pail of chicken and make the Dunkirk kid stay awake.”
“You’ll call me the second you hear something?”
“I’ll call you.” Jimmy winked. “But don’t feel obligated to answer if you know what I mean.”
“You’re not subtle, Jones. I know exactly what you mean.” My face colored. “Now, I’ve apparently got to go get beautiful—or as close to it as I can.”
“Don’t think about Ricci tonight,” Jimmy counseled. “Focus on Russo. Give him a chance. What’s the worst that can happen?”
Chapter 10
Before I went home to attempt getting beautiful, I checked my messages and found one from Asha. I didn’t bother to hit play before dialing her number.
“What do you have for me?” I asked.
“Didn’t you listen to my message?”
“I prefer to talk to you live and in person.”
“Well, you’re not in person, but whatever,” Asha said. “It’s about your mom.”
“My mom?” I frowned, then the memory of my personal favor hit me. “Oh, right. Greg-what’s-his-face.”
“Gregory Lucas Roman,” Asha continued. There was an extended silence that sounded like she was carefully considering what to say next. “Are you sure that’s the right name?”
“I mean, she called him Greg. Is there another Greg Roman who might have applied for a job at my mother’s café?”
“That’s what I’m wondering,” Asha mused. “Because I’m not seeing any application whatsoever from a Gregory Roman.”
“This is my mother we’re talking about,” I said. “If it were up to her, she’d still be handwriting her receipts. I wouldn’t go by that.”
“Even so, I have to admit I’m a little confused.”
“Why? It’s not a big deal. I mean, Is the guy a serial killer? A pedophile? If not, I’m pretty sure he can handle working a job at a café.”
“That’s the thing. He’s squeaky clean,” Asha said. “He’s never been married, no kids. Decent-looking guy considering his age.”
“Okay. Does he have any qualifications to work at the café?”
“That’s the other thing. He’s got great employment history and rave reviews from his bosses.”
“Great.” I glanced at the clock. “I’m not seeing any problems. I’ll let my ma know. Thanks, Asha—”
“Wait,” she said shortly. “There is one problem.”
“Oh, no.”
“It’s about his employment history.”
“I thought you just said he got rave reviews from his bosses?”
“He did. Er, he does. That’s the problem,” she said. “His bosses at the law firm of Spencer and Spencer seem to love him.”
“He’s quitting his job as a lawyer to work for my mother? That doesn’t make a ton of sense.”
“Not a whole lot of sense at all, especially considering he’s still employed there. Didn’t you say he was starting tomorrow?”
I exhaled a breath. “Supposedly.”
“There’s been no letter of resignation, no exit interviews, nothing in the system I can find. And if it were there, I would find it. For all intents and purposes, Gregory Roman is still gainfully employed as a lawyer.”
“My poor mother can’t catch a break,” I said. “Then again, I suppose it’s a little bit her fault seeing as she didn’t do any of the required paperwork ahead of time.”
“Kate...”
“Don’t tell me there’s more.”
“Are you sure this is about a job?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Look, I know you’re the detective and all, but I’m thinking maybe this is hitting a little close to home. There’s something your mother’s not telling you,” Asha said in a rush. “She signed up for a dating website last week.”
“I know. She said she was just going to peruse the fish in the sea.”
“Well, apparently she caught one. This Gregory Roman signed up a month ago to the same site. They’ve exchanged a few messages.”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes,” Asha said. “I think your mother has a date with Greg tomorrow.”
“I am going to kill her.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Asha said. “I’m assuming you don’t want this information sent to you?”
“No, you can toss it,” I said, then I thought about it. “Actually, let me take a peek.”
“It’s your mother’s dating life! Stop being so nosy.”
“She dragged me into it,” I said. “I won’t interfere. I just want to make sure he’s good enough for her.”
Asha made a noise in her throat that told me she disagreed. But a second later, my phone buzzed with an incoming message that I was willing to bet was the file.
“Thank you,” I said. “Any hits on the others?”
“Nothing on Ricci,” she said. “He’s laying low—at least digitally. Hasn’t logged onto his computer or used a credit card lately. The only phone I have for him hasn’t been tou
ched either, which must mean he’s got one or two others he’s using that aren’t registered to him.”
“What about Angel?”
“She used her card about ten minutes ago at a restaurant near Red Wing. You’d know that if you listened to your messages.”
“What in the world is she doing in Red Wing?”
“I don’t know.”
I looked at the clock, calculated.
“Don’t do it,” Asha said. “You’re debating trying to rush up there before your date with Russo tonight.”
“How does everyone know about my date with Russo?”
“Jimmy’s a loudmouth.”
“I could probably make it happen...”
“Better idea. Go talk to your mom about Greg and set her straight. Then go home and get pretty for your date.”
“Everyone’s telling me to get pretty. I wore a blue shirt today. I’m already dressed up.”
“I think you’re joking, but there’s a part of me that’s not completely sure,” Asha said. “Go home and put a dress on. Call Lassie—she’ll get you set straight.”
“One more thing,” I said. “I need you to look into a retired detective for me.”
“I’m all for favors, Kate, but I gotta draw the line somewhere. I don’t like to look internally.”
“He’s not internal anymore. He’s retired.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Kevin Cox,” I said. “He was the primary on the last case where both my father and Ricci were named people of interest. Jonny Sacchetti was the victim. Just peep into the reports. It doesn’t have to be anything formal.”
“I really don’t like—”
“This isn’t a favor,” I said. “It’s part of the case I’m working on. And if there was a dirty cop involved, I’m going to find out. I won’t hold back, whether it’s my father, this Cox guy, or my partner. There are no exceptions because someone has a badge.”
The wind went out of Asha like a deflating balloon. “You make my life difficult. I’m headed home because, unlike you, I don’t enjoy spending all my time at the office. But I’ll take a peek later tonight and let you know if I find anything.”
“You’re the best.”
