True Nature (28 page)

“Well, that’s fun too,” I glanced back at the picture and asked about the lamp and struggled not to laugh when Kelly identified the square box beside the bed as a “chester drawers.”

“This looks like a person,” I pointed to the red figure outside a door. “Is this a person?”

She nodded her head and didn’t look up as she ran her fingers through Hunter’s soft fur.

My heart rate increased as I pondered my next question. I wanted this precious little girl to tell me something horrible about her father. I watched her and Hunter. He licked his paw. When he finished, she ran a finger over the damp fur as if testing it.

Hunter stretched and yawned and bumped his head into the paper I’d let lie across my lap. He knew I was stalling. I picked up the picture and pointed to the person covered with red.

I kept my tone as even as possible. “Who is this, Kelly? Who is the person by the door?”

Kelly stroked Hunter and kept her eyes down. Her single word response made me gasp aloud.

****

Hunter, Evan, and I stood beside Hunter’s SUV and watched the police activity at the home of Eric Russo’s mother. Eric was corralled in the front yard by two uniformed officers. Other officers were moving in and out, carrying boxes to a waiting van.

It was Thursday morning and already near 45 degrees, perfect weather for an arrest.

We had taken the audio tape to Mike last night. He worked half the night to get the search warrant.

“That’s the fourth box they’ve brought out,” Hunter said.

“I can’t believe a little girl held that knowledge inside her and didn’t just shatter,” Evan said quietly.

“She sure as hell shocked me.” I was still wrestling with guilt over what I’d put Kelly through. But we knew Eric’s mother had killed her daughter-in-law.

“Once Kelly started talking about it,” I added, “she couldn’t stop. She’d actually watched her grandmother wash blood off her face and arms. She said Nonna left the bathroom door open while she washed and changed clothes. She had no idea Kelly saw her.”

We all jerked as a woman’s shrill scream filled the air. Eric tried to get free, but hefty arms across his chest kept him in place.

“Mama!” Eric screamed. “Let me go. She needs help.” He couldn’t move. “Let me go, you assholes, that’s my mother!”

Eric was pushed to his knees.

The front door opened and two female officers came out with Eric’s mother. I knew now that Nonna meant grandmother in Italian, but the screeching woman we were watching didn’t have the soft face and warm smile of a typical grandmother.

Mike told us Antonia Russo was a second-generation Italian American. Her parents came through Ellis Island after World War II and she was born a year later. She didn’t learn English until she went to school. She still spoke with a heavy accent. Despite the Old World background, however, she was fashionable. Her black hair was short and stylish and a single silver streak ran from her temple to the nape. She looked like most women her age. Except she was raving at two police officers.

“Let me go!” she screamed and then went off into a stream of Italian. “You cannot do this. I have done nothing wrong in the sight of God.”

Neighbors gathered on the sidewalk, watching and whispering.

“I did what I had to do,” Antonia yelled. “She was killing my son and destroying his family. Divorce is not an option, and I told her that. She didn’t believe I’d do anything about it. Death was the only answer. I had to kill her.”

She pulled against her captors, but the women holding her were strong and tenacious.

“Eric! Eric!” she screamed. “You know why I killed your wife. I helped her out of the marriage she didn’t want. Now you can raise your children in a godly household. Go and get your daughters. We can raise them together.”

Though Antonia fought, she was shoved into the backseat of the patrol car. The door slammed on her screams. Eric collapsed, falling on his face in the yard and sobbing as his mother was driven away.

A few minutes later, Mike came out and talked quietly with the stricken man and got a nod. The two officers helped Eric to his feet and escorted him inside.

It had done me good to see Antonia taken away.

Mike took off latex gloves as he walked toward us. “We’ve officially got the secondary crime scene. Kelly was right on the money. We found bloody clothes in the hatbox her grandmother kept in the bathroom closet. Everything was there, down to her underwear and bloody gloves.”

He glanced over at the officers dispersing the crowd of neighbors before continuing. “What Kelly didn’t know about was the baseball bat wrapped in old newspapers in the garage. We’ve already had officers talk to the neighbors. They said Antonia had been noisy and violent for years, humiliating her late husband whenever she could. When they had an argument, the whole neighborhood knew, and she threw whatever she could get her hands on at him. One neighbor thought the poor guy died just to get away from her.”

“But no one suspected her when Kinley died?” Hunter asked.

“Could anyone expect this kind of thing out of a 63-year-old woman?” I asked.

“We sure didn’t.” Mike shook his head. “We talked to Mrs. Russo the day after the murder and she was cool as a cucumber, saying they’d spent the evening playing games with the girls. She said they went to bed early. I had no reason or evidence that pointed in her direction.”

“I’m just glad it’s over,” I said mentally exhausted. “Did Eric know what his mother did?”

“When we showed him the warrant, he let us in without question,” Mike replied. “But his mother came tearing down the hall, screaming. They had to restrain her while we searched. I saw the hatbox as soon as I opened the bathroom closet. When Eric saw the bloody clothes inside, he threw up in the sink. I don’t think he was acting.”

“How was Kelly able to see her grandmother so well?” I asked.

“The girls’ bedroom is diagonal to the bathroom door, a direct line of sight to the bed. I figure Mrs. Russo thought she was safe. We believe she may have given Eric and the girls something in the cocoa they had before bed.”

“But Kelly woke up,” I murmured.

“Thank God,” Mike said. “If it’s any comfort, I don’t believe she understood what she saw. Then police were at the house, and her mother was dead. Instinctively, she may have known her grandmother was involved. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t talk. She didn’t want to put the pieces together in her head. Without Kelly’s revelation, we had nothing on Mrs. Russo and no reason to suspect her.”

“How is it you couldn’t get a search warrant before?” Hunter asked.

“Eric was here, in his pajamas and apparently dead asleep when we arrived,” Mike said. “The engine of his car was cool. There was nothing to indicate he had been out. We were on scene just after the murder.”

“What about the mother’s car?” I asked.

“She doesn’t have one,” Mike explained with an exasperated grunt. “But she sometimes drives a car belonging to her sister, who lives just over there.” He pointed down the block. “Mrs. Russo had her own set of keys. We didn’t know that until this morning.

“Everything came together after Kelly talked. We asked the right questions, and the DA got a warrant.” Mike put his hands on his hips and looked back at the Russo house. “We found everything we need for an indictment. Kelly shouldn’t have to testify.”

“I hope not,” I said.

“Half the neighborhood heard Mrs. Russo’s screamed confession a few minutes ago. With the physical evidence, it’s a slam dunk.”

Mike turned to me. “Thanks for everything, Zoe. You were smart to do what you did. Bringing your cat in was a stroke of genius.”

“It was actually a loaner from a friend,” I said. Here I went again—lying to Mike because of Hunter. “I’m just glad I could help. I wanted justice for Kinley and her girls. I thought Eric was guilty.”

“For his daughters’ sakes, I’m glad we were wrong,” Mike replied. “This will be tough enough on them.”

We stood there for an awkward moment. I couldn’t help but wonder how it would be if our intimate debacle hadn’t occurred. I had rushed into something that had ended in disaster. So typical.

Mike shook hands with the men beside me, his eyes meeting Hunter’s for a brief second. Then he turned and walked away without a backward glance.

Hunter looked at me. “He still doesn’t believe you about our relationship, does he?”

I glared at him. Sometimes he had the sensitivity of a spoiled child.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “Go to my place and have some brunch.”

“I need to get back to the list of Hayden Clinic staff,” I said. “So far I’m striking out, but there is a long list of employees, just like the radiology tech told Evan. Quite a few people I’ve called gave me other names.”

“You can access your files and search the Internet at my place as well as at the office,” Hunter protested. “Please. Evan will fix us a great meal.”

Evan, who had been very quiet, nodded. “You should listen to Hunter. You’ve not been sleeping well.”

I had barely slept last night, worried we put Kelly through a fruitless emotional wringer.

“Come on,” Hunter said. “Evan will drive Master PI Zoe Buchanan to my place for a celebratory feast.”

“You’re getting bossy,” Evan said. “Ordering me to make brunch and drive you around. I am a highly trained soldier, not a chef or chauffeur.”

“Home, Jeeves,” Hunter said.

I smiled despite myself at the slight tightening of Evan’s usually calm features.

Chapter 23

Hunter was feeling pretty good. Maybe it was the half dozen Belgian waffles he had enjoyed with fruit and bacon. Or perhaps it was knowing Kinley’s murderer was behind bars. His part in Antonia’s arrest helped to make up for his failing to protect someone who had depended on him.

He stretched and looked out on the unseasonably beautiful Jersey City day. The view through the French doors in his dining room showed blue skies and the Manhattan skyline sparkling on the opposite shore.

“You should put that stuff down for a while,” he told Zoe, who had barely waited for the brunch dishes to be cleared before she opened her laptop. She was studiously conducting Internet searches of former employees from the Hayden Clinic. “It’s a beautiful day. Let’s go somewhere.”

She shook her head. “Lizzie’s breathing down my neck. She’s convinced her missing sister is connected to the reason why her mother cut her father out of the will. She wants some ammunition to take to the hearing.”

“She could just give her father money and be done with him.”

“This isn’t about money,” Zoe said. “It’s about her sister.”

“You’re just as obsessed as she is,” Hunter claimed with a laugh.

“I can’t help it. I like finding answers.”

Reflecting on his own feelings of satisfaction about the morning’s events, Hunter agreed. “Helping someone resolve a big issue is a pretty damn good feeling.” In truth, that’s what he had always enjoyed about his law practice.

Evan brought in a fresh pot of coffee and topped off all three mugs. He nodded toward the window. “Hard to believe it’s supposed to snow tomorrow.”

Hunter grimaced. “All the more reason to get out of here today. Let’s go run by the river.”

Evan was silent, no doubt thinking of all the ways the chimera might snatch Hunter.

“Nana scared Michael Killin off at the memorial service,” Hunter said with pride. “Haven’t the troops reported that he and his minions have been hunkered down in his apartment fortress all week?”

“We’d be fools to think it will stay that way,” Evan retorted.

Hunter sighed. He hated sitting around and waiting for something to happen. He was almost disappointed the Killins hadn’t made a move on him. He was ready to take them on.

He was getting back to normal. He’d spent an extremely pleasant two hours with Mandy yesterday at her house. Charlie was on the west coast, and she dismissed the servants.

Evan’s disapproval had been plain, but he and the others guarded the perimeter of the Morris property while Hunter lost himself in Mandy’s voluptuous body.

He’d also shifted and gone running Tuesday and Wednesday nights with no sign of his mutant enemy. On a more disappointing note, there had been no sign of Cyn when they had stopped for coffee.

He knew she needed to keep her distance from him, but he worried about her. Though she claimed knowledge and connections with the supernatural world, Hunter suspected she spent most of her time alone. Zoe and Evan now knew about Cyn’s son and her desire to ensure the chimera never found him.

Hunter felt more comfortable with his new role. In the past two days, while he and Evan toured new properties, a plan had formed in his mind. He needed to discuss it with Zoe.

“Leave that for a minute.” He pointed at the computer. When she didn’t react, he pushed down the top.

“Hey! I may be on to someone interesting. A young doctor who worked with Hayden for longer than most of them now practices in Manhattan. He’s a big-time OB-GYN to the beautiful people. He might know something.”

“Groovy,” Hunter said. “But I need to talk about something else.” He got his laptop and pulled up some photographs he had taken yesterday at a warehouse complex in Riverdale. “Look at this place. Isn’t it cool?”

Zoe clicked through the photographs for a few moments, a frown creasing her smooth forehead. “All I see is a big glass and brick building—with most of the glass broken. It’s surrounded by broken concrete and weeds and a bunch of warehouses.”

“It offers great protection and can easily be renovated and secured.”

“And?”

“It would be a great place to live.”

She squinted at the photographs again, blinked, then looked back at Hunter. “I think the stress has finally gotten to you.”

“The location is perfect and it’s in better shape than it looks. We could live in apartments on the upper floors. The ground floor would be the office—”

“Office?” Zoe interrupted. “What office?”

“We could move the office there and live on the upper floors.”

“We?” Zoe just stared him. “You mean all of us?”

“You’d have your own floor and lots of privacy.”

“Living in the same building as you should enhance my romantic life,” she commented dryly. “Working with you has caused me enough problems.”