“Yeah,” Manny replied. “I saw that.”
“You have a photo of it on your phone?”
“You want the serial number?” he asked.
“I do.”
Manny told me to hold on. A moment later, he returned. “It’s a Venera,” he said, referring to the Czech manufacturer of the gun. Then he read me the serial number, stopping every few digits.
When he finished, I thanked him and turned back toward the ice cream shop. But before I entered, I froze. A thought became a suspicion.
What to do about it was another matter.
Think like you. Act like other people.
I found a number on my phone and penned a text, channeling what Shooter would say.
Yo, it’s Gardner Camden. Up in your area. Seeing if you wanted to grab a beer. Talk shop.
I stood there, waiting for a response. Three little dots animated:
Sorry. Busy on a case. Rain check?
I wrote back:
Sure.
I pocketed my phone and returned to the ice cream shop, my mind cycling through a conversation from two weeks earlier.
“I need to drop you off at Nana’s,” I said to Camila.
“Already?” She gave me a look.
Cassie stood up, realizing the mood had changed, but not alerting my daughter. She motioned at the yogurt pulls. “Should we bring her something?”
“Huh?”
“A dessert,” Cassie said, flicking her eyes at me. “For Rosa.”
“Yeah.” I turned to my daughter. “Camy, why don’t you get your nana something she likes. And a couple more of those chocolate packages for you. Have Cassie look at the numbers. Give you a fighting chance at this sweepstakes.”
Camila ran off to fill a yogurt cup, and Cassie turned to me. “What’s going on?”
“The gun case,” I said. “It’s not over.”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
I returned to Rosa’s, and Cassie waited outside.
As I tucked my daughter in, she smiled at me.
“I’m so lucky,” she said.
“Yes,” I replied. But I wasn’t sure of the context.
Camila pulled her covers tight. “Two grandmas here now. And Nana Rosa told me she’s gonna take your mom to lunch. So they can get to know each other better.”
A gesture like this was not unusual for Rosa.
