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Kitally held up a fist and gave Gus a knuckle bump.
“You did it, kiddo.”
“We did it, Gus. You, me, and Betty.”
Wayne Be
“If you don’t arrest Lizzy Gardner,” Be
“Do you have any proof that Lizzy Gardner was responsible for what happened to you?”
“I saw her with my own two eyes. Is that proof enough, Detective?”
“I thought you said your face was covered by a ski mask.”
Be
He looked back at Chase. “I have security cameras. I’m sure I’ve got all the proof you need, Detective. Just don’t make the same mistake you made in DC.”
“What’s that?”
Be
“His son was bad news.”
Be
Chase kept quiet, let Be
“You refused to violate your own sense of morals, and for what?” Be
“Are you finished?”
The nurse came in and was about to ask for privacy when Be
She folded the sheet over and did as she was told.
Chase saw a crisscross of deep red welts across his ribs, stomach, and legs. It appeared every part of him had been left with a mark. Even Be
There was something very satisfying about seeing how the creep had been brutalized, but at the same time he worried about Lizzy. If she was responsible, and even if she wasn’t, Be
Chase had seen enough. He headed for the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m going home.”
“We’re not finished here, Detective.”
“Oh, yes we are. If you have anything more to say, you give me a call and I’ll send someone over.”
“Get your ass back in here,” Chase heard the man call out as he walked toward the elevator.
Lizzy wasn’t surprised when she heard from Detective Chase. He told her he had some questions for her, but he wanted her to meet him at his house. He told her lunch would be served, and that she should arrive prepared to eat.
She figured it was about Be
Lizzy arrived at Chase’s house right on time. When he opened the door to let her in, she couldn’t help but smile at his appearance. Over a pair of beige slacks and a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows was a full-length white apron.
“Looks like you’re doing some serious cooking.”
“Cooking is serious business. Come on in.”
Lizzy followed him inside. Everything looked the same as the last time she was here: single-hole golf course where the dining room table should be, television on in the other room. Detective Chase headed for the kitchen, where he slipped on an oven mitt, opened the oven, and pulled out crusty Italian bread covered in bubbling cheese and tomato sauce—operating entirely with one hand, as he still wore a sling on his left arm.
“How’s the arm?”
“It’s been better. It’ll get there. Time to heal is all it needs.”
“Smells good,” she said.
“Today we’re having eggplant and mozzarella melt. I hope you like garlic butter and eggplant Parmesan.”
“It looks delicious.”
He’d set places for them in front of stools at the kitchen counter. He poured them both a tall glass of cold milk and then sat down next to her and dug in.
She took a bite. “Delicious. Where did you learn to cook?”
“Mom. She’s Italian. Best cook in all of New York City.”
After she’d finished about half of her open sandwich, it had become clear he wasn’t in a hurry to have a conversation about whatever he had called her here to talk about.
“So, what’s this about? Why am I here, Detective?”
He washed his last bite down with half a glass of his milk and then used his napkin to wipe his mouth. “OK, I’m feeling better now. I needed that.”
She waited.
“It’s about Be
“What about him?”
“I was called to the hospital to take the report. Apparently he was attacked after arriving home from work. He said there were three people working on him, but he only heard two voices. Both female.”
“Hmm. Interesting.”
“He was beat up pretty bad. Fractured nose, broken wrist, lacerations deep enough to require over a hundred stitches.”
“Why are you telling me this? I can’t say he didn’t deserve it.”
“You already know he’s a very powerful man.”
“He’s a child molester and a rapist, and you and I both know he killed Miriam Walters, otherwise she would have turned up by now. I’m sure you’ve heard about Olimpia Padula? The girl in his program who drowned in the bathtub?”
“She was a drug addict. It happens all the time.”
“Chase, listen to what you’re saying. Did you ever talk to the girl?” Lizzy shook her head. “I did. Olimpia hadn’t taken drugs since she was fifteen. She went straight. She worked hard. Hard enough to be accepted into Be
He sighed.
“It’s your problem now, though. I’m closing up shop. I’m done.”
That got his attention.
“Don’t look so glum. You should be thrilled that I won’t be causing you any more trouble.”