He smiled sheepishly. “It was hard not buying expensive things while having a good job. I might have gone a little overboard, which was totally irresponsible, but I’d liked playing the part of a top-level engineer and also because I’m a tiny bit vain. Every man needs to have one thing they can splurge on. For some it’s a car, others, threads. In any case, I have no need for all these fancy things and could use the money.”
I sat next to him on the couch and jutted my bottom lip out, wanting him to have whatever his heart desired, but unsure of how to give him the world.
“You’re pouting for me? That’s super sweet,” he said with a smile and pecked my lips. “It’s okay, I’m not all that sad. It won’t bother me too much. The pearl cufflinks and Gucci belt will be going too. I’ll pawn them and put the money toward something important like my medical bills. Besides, it wouldn’t sit right with me to keep all these fine things while people donated their hard-earned money to me.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, and I threw my hands up. “It wasn’t my idea.”
“But you went along with it and helped plan the activities,” he said with a breath. “Sneak.”
“It’s a party, so think of it that way,” I countered.
“I suppose you’re right.”
“I usually am.”
A knock at the door made us both jump and I’d expected it to be Mrs. B. who had planned a half day at work, but why would she be knocking on her own door? I kissed him three more times in quick smacks and got up to see who was disturbing us. I found a portly little man with half a head of black curly hair standing behind the screen door, looking like he didn’t want to be here.
“Becker residence?” he asked. When I nodded, he introduced himself as, “Detective Larry Schroeder. Have you been in contact with—” he glanced at a file tucked under his arm.
“Danny?” I finished for him.
“Who is it, Jere?” Danny asked from the living room.
The detective cleared his throat. “Is that him? I dropped by the residence listed on the file, but no one answered the two times I was there.”
Danny came to stand beside me. “Sorry, I had to relinquish my apartment. I’m living with my mother now.”
“Yeah, well, that would have been nice to know.”
Something tightened inside my body, and I wanted to smash the screen door into the guy’s face, but that would ruin Danny’s night and get me thrown in jail for a few days. All impossible options. “I called numerous times and left several messages for Detective Rosemont but never heard anything back.”
Danny squeezed my arm in an effort to calm me. I’d sounded cool and collected to my own ears, but that went to show how well he knew me, something that made me extremely happy.
The man’s dark brows that were so thick they looked like they were drawn on with a sharpie, reached for his bald head. “Ah, no one contacted you? That would explain the confusion. In any case, that’s why I’m here.Rosemont,” he said with a hint of disdain, “was injured in the line of duty.”
Danny gasped. “Is he okay?”
Detective Schroeder frowned at him as if the question were nonsense. “He’ll live. I was assigned some of his cases on top of my own caseload, so it’s hampered progress with yours. Can I come in?”
“Of course,” Danny said and pushed the screen door open for him.
I sat down next to Danny on the couch while the detective lowered his ass across from us. He plopped his folder on the coffee table with an audible smack and reached inside his pocket, withdrawing a pen.
“I’m here to update you on the investigation.” He frustratingly drew it out, jotting something down in the file while Danny and I hung on for details. “We’ve identified the assailants who assaulted you.”
We moved together, connecting our hands, Danny’s grip tight and shaking, his nails digging into my skin. I could feel his apprehension, the little huffs of his strained breaths making me wish we didn’t have to do this today of all days. But Danny needed to know, he needed to kill this part of his life so he could move past it.
The detective slid two photos across the table. “Richard Ulrich, and Freddy Burton.”
Danny leaned in, audibly swallowing a metal ball as he looked at the two men depicted in the photos. His expression went through a flicker of emotions—fear, surprise, anger. He said, “These are mugshots.”
“Yeah, they have priors to no one's surprise. Drug possession, disturbing the peace, simple assault. I’m going to assume you are unable to identify them as your attackers?”
Danny hung his head off his shoulders as if being unable to remember anything about that night was something to be guilty of. “I’m sorry, I—I don’t remember much. I recall snippets of doing karaoke with Ronnie, but—”
“Ronald Patterson, yes. He’s my next stop.”
“She,” Danny rasped, a sharp hiss of anger punching through the shock. I pulled him into me, his body clenching in on itself, the coil of emotion ready to erupt.
