It wasn’t the news that I wanted to go home with. It hurt my heart to think that I’d have to relate all this to Miller. “Anything else?” I sighed, wondering if there was worse to come.
“Well, since you ask,” Freddy said, his voice getting even lower. “Beaumont had no Family connections of her own. But that friend of hers, Roxanne Rochford? Word is she’s Gino Bernardi’s girl. They’ve been together about a year, although they both keep it real quiet.”
CHAPTER38
MILLER
I wasawake when Jack got back, lying there on the bed with my hands behind my head and only the light from the bathroom to keep me company. When I heard the key in the lock, I sat up, hugging my knees to my chest.
Jack paused in the doorway, a silhouette, but then moved forward so the light caught his smile. “Honey, I’m home,” he said, and turned to hang his hat on the hook next to the door. I turned on the bedside lamp to give him more light, and caught sight of his knuckles.
“What happened?” I demanded, jumping out of bed.
He pulled his hands away from me as I tried to grab at them. “Nothing happened.”
“That wassobelievable,” I deadpanned. “Take two: whathappened?”
“Workplace injury, that’s all. They happen, Trouble. From time to time.”
“Give me your hands, let me see.” I held out my own hands until he sighed and laid his in mine. I looked at the bloodied and split knuckles, sucking a breath in through my teeth.
“It’s fine,” he said tiredly. When I looked up into his face he seemed both exhaustedandin deep pain—but not from his knuckles.
“I’ve never seen a man look so fed up with the whole world,” I said. Jack’s shoulders slumped and he dropped his head with a sigh. “I’m going to take care of these for you,” I said softly, and pressed my lips to the knuckles on both his hands.
He just nodded.
While I cleaned up his hands in the bathroom, Jack finally spilled to me about what was bothering him. It was hard to hear, especially the autopsy results and the DNA confirmation, and I could see it was hard for him to have to tell me. But when he got to the part about Roxanne Rochford being in bed with some guy called Gino Bernardi, he became even more hesitant.
“Who’s Gino Bernardi?” I asked
“He’s one of those quiet investor types that the Hollywood studios like. Bankrolls films that take his fancy. And he’s also the youngest son of the Bernardi Boss. As in, Bernardi Family.”
“Oh,shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Wait—does that mean—” I frowned, thinking hard, then looked at Jack, whose eyes were sad. “You already know what it means,” I said.
“I’ve got an inkling.”
“Tell me.”
“You won’t like it.”
“Jesus, is there anything about this situation that Iwouldlike?” I snapped, dabbing at his sore knuckles a little too hard. He flinched, and I eased up. “Sorry. Shit, I’m sorry. But could you just…tell me?”
Jack watched my movements over his hands for another moment, and then he said, “I think Rochford and her boyfriend are the central figures in this burglary ring in the Hills. Rochford sees these celebs at the parties she goes to, and she lets her boyfriend know who’s got the best bling. Then he sends his crew out to relieve them of their party pieces.”
I paused in my ministrations, digesting his theory. “And…you think Roxy told her man that Annie had a lot of nice jewelry?”
“Seems like an obvious link. Which means Rochford might…well. Be a factor in your sister’s death. I’m sorry.” He pulled his hand away for a second to close it on mine, and I stared at our entwined fingers as I sorted through my feelings.
One in particular shot to mind. “But why was Roxy so freaked out at the Chateau? They were Bernardis, those men, weren’t they?”
“Maybe she didn’t want her boyfriend to know she was talking to you. Or me.”
“She told me todumpyou,” I said indignantly. “Sneaky bitch.”
