Diana (11 page)

"You got it, partner. Let's go talk to the roommate and get moving on this case. You hear from the fire marshal?"

Diana inhaled and felt her cheeks flush. Damn that Luke Fontella. What was wrong with her? The mere mention of the man's name did a number on her.

"Something wrong?” Jerry said.

"I heard from him this morning. He'll be in touch."

"You two make up or something? I thought he hated you?"

They walked toward the apartment building. Diana hoped she hid her flushed cheeks well. Yeah, they made up, and they made out. They practically had sex in his kitchen, against the wall. Damn it. She tried to clear her head.

"I guess he realized there was no truth to the gossip."

"Don't be surprised if he makes a move on you next."

She swung her head around in shock. It felt like she nearly sprained her neck. “What!"

"Come on, Pellino. Don't tell me you didn't notice the way he was looking at you. That you didn't feel his eyes on you when your back was toward him?"

Jerry shook his head. She stood speechless.

"You're out of practice. You've conditioned yourself to ignore any signs of interest from cops and firefighters for so long that you can't even notice when one's interested."

She was silent, as he held the door to the main entrance open for her. Her mind was stuck on the realization that Jerry could be right. Was she oblivious to the signs? If she had noticed, she would've never went to Luke's apartment alone. He probably thought she was flirting with him, asking for it.
Oh, shit!

"Hey, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

They stood outside of the apartment.

"What did you say this girl's name was?” Jerry asked.

"Janelle."

"Who lives here?"

"Their friend Casey and two other young women."

"All Ecuadorian decent?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"Just asking. It's a pretty shitty building, no security, easy access from the entrance, no cameras, and look at this door, the bolt is rotted to shit."

"What's your point? Half the damn places around this area of town are no different."

"That's true.” Jerry knocked on the door.

A few minutes later, they were in the apartment speaking with Janelle and her friend Casey. Janelle appeared to have a bit of an attitude. Diana's gut told her the women didn't trust them. She couldn't blame them for feeling that way.

"Do you recall if Lee seemed afraid or concerned that someone may be after her?” Jerry asked.

Janelle remained silent, then glanced at Casey.

"We're trying our best to find the person responsible for this. Please cooperate,” Diana said, in a soothing tone.

"I'll be right back. I have to check the stove.” Casey headed toward the kitchen, a mere twenty feet away from the living room. Diana exchanged glances with Jerry. Her partner seemed to read her mind. She stood up and headed to the kitchen while Jerry continued questioning Janelle.

"That smells delicious. Are you making
locro
soup?” Diana asked.

Casey looked surprised that she knew the soup. “You ever eat it?"

"Sure have. Ever go to Galapagos Cuisine downtown?"

"They're okay. If you like good Ecuadorian cuisine, you should try the little place around the corner."

"Louis'?” Diana asked.

Casey nodded yes.

She continued to speak with Casey about the food. She loved
locro
soup. It was an odd combination made with cheese, avocado, and potato. So delicious.

"Their empanadas are great."

"Lee loved their food.” Casey got all quiet.

"We'd been trying to get her out of that apartment to come live here with us, but she didn't want the extra four block commute."

"That's understandable. Guthery's is more than ten blocks from here. Did she walk or take mass transit?"

"She did both, but mostly walked. If she moved in with us here, she probably wouldn't have been able to afford the bus or the subway."

"Casey, I'm sorry about Lee. We're trying our best to figure out what happened and who is responsible. Can you think of anything that may help us? Did Lee mention anything to you? Did she seem scared or frightened?"

Casey stayed silent a few moments. Diana allowed her some space. Trust wasn't something that came easy.

"She mentioned the interview she did on television, and how some guy said that maybe that other clerk, Barbara, was killed because of her attitude. It was sick and Lee was so upset."

Casey closed her eyes a moment, then looked in the living room at Janelle. The two girls exchanged glances.

"What is it?” Diana asked.

"Lee remembered seeing some guy in the store a few weeks ago. He was angry over the fact that Barbara closed her line for a lunch break when there were more customers waiting. They were swamped that day, but Barbara didn't care. She hated that job."

"Did Lee remember what the guy looked like?"

"Not really."

"Anything at all that could help us?"

"Remember what Lee said about his clothes?” Janelle offered the information to Casey from the other room.

"She said that he was an attractive guy and was a worker, like maybe a janitor or foreman,” Casey said.

"Yeah, and I think she said he was wearing blue pants and black construction boots,” Janelle added.

Jerry wrote everything down in his notepad.

They asked the women if they recalled anything else, then left them their business cards.

"Thanks again for your help. We'll be in touch.” Jerry smiled sympathetically before they left the apartment.

Luke sat in his kitchen. He stared at the wall, just thinking about what happened this morning. He wanted to kiss Diana from the moment they met. She continuously entered his thoughts throughout the day, and she was in his dreams. The fact she showed up at his front door was like some captivating fantasy, conjured up in his mind and spirit, come true.

The alluring darkness of her eyes, the toned muscles in her arms, and the way her clothing fit so snugly against the curves of her body was enough to activate his manhood.

Damn, the way that woman didn't even back down to his arrogant attitude turned him on. He laughed as he thought about the way she stood in the doorway. One hand on her hip and one on the handle of her gun. Man, was that a sight.

When he held her in his arms and she didn't resist his moves at all, he wanted more.

He closed his eyes, thought about how if felt to touch her, caress her every curve, and to taste her. His hand glided behind the back of her neck to support her as his other arm wrapped around her waist, drifting over the bulge of her firearm and lifting her hips against his own.

He never thought a woman in an authoritative position, especially a cop, would turn him on. He was pleasantly surprised by her reaction, her equally aggressive behavior.

How the hell am I going to concentrate on this case and work side by side with her?

He realized he couldn't wait to see her again. But her reaction, her attitude before she ran from his house, left him feeling uncertain of whether he would ever get that close to Diana Pellino again.

He could smell her perfume. It lingered in his kitchen, and he couldn't get himself to start working.

The doorbell rang. Luke was annoyed at the interruption. He was suddenly filled with hope it was Diana. He glanced in the mirror in the hallway and cursed the signs of exhaustion on his face, and the poor decision of eating a whole loaf of garlic bread with lunch.

He grabbed a piece of gum from the table and shoved it into his mouth, chewing quickly. Biting the inside of his mouth, he cursed again in pain, then took a deep breath before opening the door.

Shock and disappointment filled him to his core.

He walked away, leaving the door open as he headed to the kitchen. He made a fresh pot of coffee.

"It's good to see you, too,” his father said.

"I'm kind of busy, Dad. What is it you want?” Luke never looked up.

"I called you and left messages."

"I'm busy."

"I know you are, but I wanted to straighten things out with you."

Luke laughed sarcastically, then gave him a dirty look over his shoulder.

He heard his father's exasperated sigh.

"Come on, I'm trying here, which is more than I can say for you."

He abruptly turned to his father. “Trying at what? Being a dad? Not fucking up my head? Why are you even bothering? I gave up on you years ago.” Luke crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back against the counter.

His father stared at him, holding his gaze, then looked down. His dad was guilty. Guilty of every damn thing he knew his father had done wrong from the time his mother was diagnosed. All the women, the self-centered emotions, and not being there for his only son were his crimes.

"You're wrong, Luke."

Luke held up his hand for his father to stop talking. “I really don't have time for this shit today."

His father sighed again and shook his head. “I know you're busy, which is also why I'm here. You jumped to some conclusions at your aunt's party that I want to straighten out."

"You mean you and the foxy detective?” Luke turned away. As soon as the words left his mouth, an enormous feeling of jealousy filled his gut.

"That's Detective Pellino. She's one of my best detectives. Some people I work with overheard your little outburst of accusations at the party. Needless to say, it caused some uncomfortable situations at the department, especially between Detective Pellino and myself. Now, I hear you're avoiding her and not giving assistance with the case."

"So you're telling me that there is nothing going on between you and Pellino? That you haven't made a move on her using your authoritative position?"

"I could be her father."

"Like that would stop any man from tapping a piece like Pellino."

His father took a deep breath. The look of anger on his face indicated he didn't like Luke's tone or line of questioning. Luke didn't give a shit. He wanted answers, wanted to be sure there was nothing romantic going on with Pellino and his dad. Speaking about her in a sexist way was more for his safety, and to keep his feelings hidden from his dad.

Pellino got under his skin, irritated him, and turned him on. Until now, he'd been turned off and lacking enthusiasm in everything, except tracking down Stewart Howard. Justice just didn't seem to be served anymore. There was more injustice and lack of law enforcement than ever in the world.

"There is nothing going on between us, and I want you to cooperate with Pellino and Montoff."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah. Everyone liked seeing you at the family party, especially Aunt Jane."

"Well, don't get used to it. I'm swamped, so if you don't mind.” Luke started to head out of the kitchen.

His dad followed. “I'm sure I'll see you even more now that you're working in the area."

"I guess."

His father gave him a small smile, then exited the house.

Luke closed the door and ran a hand through his hair. He wished things didn't have to be this way. He wished his father had helped him through the death of his mother, and had been there for him more often. Luke wished for a lot of things.

He couldn't help but head to the computer and look up any updated information on Stewart Howard. He thought about his firefighting friends who were killed, murdered by the serial arsonist, and he sighed.

He'd find him and hold him responsible one way or another.

An hour later, Luke entered the firehouse to speak with Brian Pellino, Don O'Rourke, and two other firefighters from the company who were the first to respond to the fire he was investigating. He had read the reports they handed in to the chief, but he still had questions.

Luke got a grand welcoming the second he entered the firehouse. Handshake after handshake, slaps on the shoulders, and invitations to join the firefighters for some drinks at a local bar. It was enough to make his head spin. A half hour later, he finally sat in the chief's office.

Outside the office, both Don and Brian stood talking about Luke.

"You think this is about the arson fire at that apartment complex three days ago?” Don said.

"Probably. You know how this works.” Brian crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Yeah, they fucking always want to blame shit on the good guys."

"We did our job. They got nothing on us."

"We teamed up that day, remember?"

"Yeah. We were the first ones in. Who is this guy, anyway?"

"Luke Fontella. He was one of us until—” Brian paused.

He hated to bring up dead firefighters’ names, considering Don lost his brother Ted to a fire and the person responsible hadn't been captured.

"Well?” Don asked.

"He left the department after a bad fire. Part of his crew were injured."

"You mean he lost a man?"

"They lost two guys, best friends of his. Some arsonist set it on purpose. It was a death trap. They never caught the guy."

Don was silent a moment.

"He quit and joined the investigative branch because of it?"

"He didn't want to come back at all, but the chief talked him into it. Fontella had a reputation as a good firefighter. He knows his shit. I think he's still trying to find that arsonist who killed his friends."

Don stared back at the closed door with a somber expression.

"So you want to speak to them one at a time?” the chief asked.

"That would be fine. I appreciate you letting me use your office."

"No problem, Luke. I hope my boys aren't in some kind of trouble?"

Luke hated for Chief Watkins to think that one of the guys hadn't followed protocol. “I have to thoroughly investigate this case, Chief. I want to be sure I know exactly what happened, step by step from the time your crew arrived on the scene."

The chief looked at the closed doorway a moment. “You'd tell me first if one of my guys didn't follow procedure?"

Luke knew what he was getting at. The firefighting community was a close-knit community, a family that looked out for its own.