I realized that I was good and fucked because I loved her moxie.
“Tell me what you know,” Captain Roman-Wyatt said when I returned to the station after securing the crime scene.
“Someone was very angry at Thom Renzo, sir,” I told him. “They hit him over the head with a heavy, blunt object causing him to stagger and fall. He wasn’t immediately knocked out though because it appears that he pulled himself to his feet and shuffled further into the cellar before his killer finished him off. It was really bad, sir.” I was grateful that Maegan, Milo, and Memphis went upstairs and called for help instead of following the trail of blood. I would not have wanted them to see Renzo’s gruesome homicide. “It’s unfortunate that the killer appears to have taken the murder weapon with him.”
“What do we know about the last few hours of his life?” the captain asked.
“He made an arrangement with a local business owner to look through his parents’ belongings to see if she wanted to buy anything for her store before the items were sold at an auction at a future date.”
“Maegan?” he asked.
“Yes, Miss Miracle,” I replied, hoping that addressing her formally would prevent me from thinking about how beautiful she looked naked beneath me, over me, or beside me. It didn’t work nor did it prevent me from wanting to do it all over again as quickly as possible. “Miss Miracle claimed that she was supposed to meet Thom Renzo last week, but he’d canceled their appointment.”
“Claimed? You don’t believe her, Detective?”
“I do believe her, sir. That was a poor choice of words.”
“Carry on,” the captain said.
“She said that she received an email from Renzo today, telling her that she was good to come out this evening, he confirmed the time, and provided the code for the lockbox at the front door that contained the key.
“Miss Miracle didn’t say this,” because she was too pissed at me, “but Mr. Miracle said he thought the email in itself was odd. The previous communication with his sister was done through a realtor that both Renzo and Miss Miracle knew. He thought it seemed odd that suddenly Renzo emailed his sister randomly with little notice.”
“What do you make of it?” the captain asked.
“By itself, nothing. I’ll call the realtor and set up an interview. I’ll also reach out to the auction house and see if I can track down Renzo’s friends and put together a timeline of his last few days. I find it really odd that his car wasn’t at the scene and I’d like to know how he arrived. His driver’s license was issued in Kentucky so Wen is looking through the database to see what type of vehicle Renzo owned to issue a BOLO. We’ll want to get inside his apartment as soon as possible to see what we can find for possible motives.”
“Good start,” he replied. “Your partner will be back from vacation on Monday. Nothing like a homicide to welcome you to our town. In the meantime, I’ll contact someone at the Kentucky State Police to set up a time for them to meet us at his residence for the search.” He shook his head. “I’m going to pair you with Officer Kevin Wen to assist you with the interviews since local potential witnesses will be more comfortable talking with him.”Instead of an outsider.
“Sounds good, Captain. Maybe the first thing Wen can help me with is determining Renzo’s next of kin, if one exists, for notification.”
“I bet I know someone who can help you with that.”
“Great,” I said, happy for any help I could get.
“What are you doing tonight?”
I knew what—or should I say who—I wanted to do, but that option wasn’t on the table, especially after my behavior earlier. “Nothing that I’m aware of, sir.”
The captain held up a finger for me to wait while he dialed his cell phone. “Sunshine, I’m bringing home a guest for dinner.” He listened for a second then laughed. “It’s my new detective on the police force. He saw the worst our town had to offer today, so it’s only fair that he sees the best.” I wasn’t sure exactly what his husband said, but it elicited a possessive growl out of the captain’s throat that made me smile. “I was talking about your cooking.”
While the captain verbally volleyed with his husband, I looked at the photos that sat on the credenza behind his desk. It was plain to see the two men were crazy in love with one another in each picture he proudly displayed. The newest photos included their twin son and daughter. I could see why the captain called his blond husband Sunshine. It wasn’t just the color of his hair; it was the joy and love that radiated from him. I could only hear one side of the conversation, but I got the impression that Josh Roman-Wyatt was a real firecracker.
“See you in thirty minutes or less.” He disconnected the call and looked at me. “Do you like country fried steak?”
“Love it,” I replied.
“You’re about to have the best country fried steak you’ll ever put in your mouth.”
“How will that get me closer to finding Thom Renzo’s next of kin?” I asked curiously.
“My husband and I own the salon in town and he knows everything about everyone,” the captain said.
Josh Roman-Wyatt was as sunny in person as he was in his photos, and the smells coming from his kitchen seemed to back up the captain’s claim.
Josh greeted his husband with a peck on the lips. “Hello, Captain Crunch.”
“Sunshine, you know that I hate that one.”
