Chapter Sixteen
Sam
“Sorry. Not sorry.” I’m sure spiders are important to the ecosystem but in all fairness, I did ask them to leave.
Now, after hundreds of tiny deaths by my hand, I shower, towel off, and return to the kitchen for a breakfast of fried beans.
“I’ll hit the rez store as soon as it opens.” Suds puts his dish in the sink. “Going for a run, want to join me?”
I lift my flip-flop clad feet. “Unlike some people, I did not have a spare set of clothes to change into.”
“Right. Thought I should ask.” He’s trying not to worry me, which is sweet.
In truth, he’s checking our perimeter. With no electronics to amuse myself, I search the cabin for a paperback. However, ten minutes into the mystery, I know who did it. To be certain, I read the last chapter and curse because I’m right.
I try the next novel and do the same.
Dammit. I am so bored.Bug spray in hand, I stomp toward the outhouse. “Heads up, insects, this is your only warning.”
By the time the sun is halfway up in the sky, I’m sweating so bad I need another shower. Then, I sit in front of the fan and turn on a TV so ancient it has bunny ears. Like I’ve seen in old movies, I twist them until ghostly figures appear in a fuzzy background.
The local news doesn’t hold my attention until they mention a shooting in New York. In dress blues, my dad pales as he takes the podium next to another man.
Fuck.I adjust the antennae while watching the screen and stop when the picture comes into focus. The banner underneath the image reads Javier Gomez, NYC District Attorney.
Shut the front door!No wonder he looked so familiar. Oh my God. What the hell was the DA doing in Bed Sty and why didn’t he say anything?
The instant Suds returns from the store, I run out the door to greet him. “I figured it out.”
“Whoa, hold on there, little lady.” He slowly exits the rusty Volvo, the last car we stole.
Hopping up and down, I grab his arm. “Phone, phone. Please. I need to see something.”
“Just a second. Let’s stick these groceries in the fridge before everything spoils.”
ARGH!“Fine.”
I help him unpack the perishables and hold out my palm. “Burner. Now.”
Sitting at the kitchen table, I connect to 4G, open an email from Slate, and study the images. “He was there in Bed Sty, the night of the murder. I knew I saw someone I recognized. That’s Javier Gomez, the district attorney.”
My hubby puts the Android’s screen to his nose, then pales. “Damn. Do you recognize anyone else?”
I swipe until I find a heavy set guy with eyes spaced too close. “Him. He looks a lot different but it’s got to be Little Tony.”
“He must be close the three hundred pounds.” After he hands the phone back to me, I shrug.
“Yeah, it’s not because of his size. His dad is Anthony Senior but that’s not important. Remember how I asked Vinny for a favor during the pandemic?”
My partner’s eyes darken. “Don’t tell me you went out withLittleTony?”
“Good God, no. My uncle wanted me to find out why a certain crime family was doing so much better than him. Anthony Junior is the heir apparent to a large syndicate. I can’t believe I don’t remember taking his picture. Huh… it must’ve been when I was messing around with the lens or maybe had the night vision on.”
“The DA, Little Tony, and a murder. What are the odds?” Suds shakes his head, his frown even deeper than before.
My mind races, too, as I work to connect the dots. “I bet Biermann recognized them. He must’ve said something and they didn’t want to take any chances.”
My partner stands and paces. “And Gomez figured they were in the clear until he learned about your pictures. By the way, you were right. Slate says your memory card went missing from the evidence locker.”
