He gave a small nod and turned to walk away.
June watched as he stepped to the curb and got into a dark car waiting outside. Before the driver pulled away, Alfred looked back once and gave her a final courteous nod.
Then the car was gone.
Instead of going into the shop, June walked to the small alley around the corner from it and pulled her phone from her purse to dial Holt.
He answered almost immediately.
“June, is everything okay?” Holt asked.
“The other night when you went to Victoria’s for dinner,” June said, keeping her voice low. “Did you notice Alfred’s hands?”
There was a brief pause.
“No. Why?” Holt’s tone had changed to one of curiosity.
“I just ran into him outside the flower shop,” June explained. “Holt, Alfred also has scratches on the back of one hand I could see.”
10
RAD
By the time Rad got to the station that morning, he had to try to suppress the cough that had plagued him since the fire and was still annoying him.
Every breath reminded him that running into a burning building after Margo had not been one of his more sensible career choices, though if he had to do it again, he knew perfectly well he would. That was the problem. He had enough self-awareness to know when he was being reckless, but not enough common sense to stop when it mattered.
The front desk was already busy. Phones rang. A deputy was trying to calm an elderly man who was complaining about teenagers on dirt bikes. May sat behind the desk in her usual place, composed and efficient, somehow managing the morning chaos with a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of pink message slips in the other.
She looked up the moment he came in.
“Good morning, Detective Hero.” May grinned. “Should you be back at work?”
“I’m fine and I didn’t get injured,” Rad pointed out. “So yes, I should be back at work.”
“Well, welcome back, and I’m glad you’re okay,” May told him.
Rad nodded and moved past her, then skillfully slipped past anyone else, avoiding eye contact as he didn’t feel like recapping what happened at Teacups.
Rad had just settled behind his desk when there was a knock. He called for the person to enter, and May popped her head around the door.
“I have something for you,” May told him and stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind her, then holding up a file.
“What’s that?” He frowned at it, pointing.
“A call came through yesterday asking for you.” May walked closer to his desk.
Rad glanced at the folder, noting there was no label on the front, no routing slip clipped to it. That alone was unusual.
“Yesterday?” he asked. “While I was in the hospital.”
“Yes, I did point that out to the caller.” May put the folder on the desk in front of him. “I also told them I could pass the call to another officer. But their answer was an adamant no.”
“No?” Rad looked up. “Then it couldn’t be very important.”
“No. Apparently, it’s…how did they say, ‘super uber important.’” May’s mouth twitched as she quoted whoever had called. “They were also very clear. It had to go to you, and only you.”
That sharpened his attention.
