Cold Cases and Bitter Enemies Page 2

  I grinned as I thought about how hard it was to keep that brat in line. I glanced at Graves to find him staring at his phone with dark circles under his eyes.

  “Missing Homicide, Simon?”

  “Graves,” he corrected me. “And no, someone handed over my card, and here I am. Princess brought a client back here about twelve-thirty and saw taillights as a nondescript sedan with no plates or covered ones squealed tires out of here. She’s giving her statement now since I gave her the go-ahead.”

  I still didn’t understand the power the Cold Case Unit wielded within those forty blocks. That night wasn’t the first time I arrived to find Remy, Stevenson, or Graves, for that matter, already at the scene. The people around there didn’t put that much trust in law enforcement, but it appeared every one of them always had a card to hand over.

  “Another body drop, Doc?” I didn’t hide the skepticism in my tone.

  “He’s been dead by my calculation for at least three hours before it was called in. No ID on our victim, and there was some serious damage to his fingertips. I’ll try to pull them once I get him back to the office.”

  “Dental records?”

  “If you can find the teeth, Douglas.”

  Dammit, just like the first body we’d found.

  “Bianchi is waiting inside with a few uniforms. He’s not happy.” Graves seemed almost amused by that.

  “Want to join me, Simon? Work on those rusty skills of yours?”

  “Graves.” He enunciated, but I had no intention of correcting myself. His snarl and anger were too much fun. “But since I have nothing better to do. Doc, Stevenson’s waiting to escort you back to the morgue?”

  “You know he is. He’s currently asleep on the gurney. We had a late night.”

  “When don’t you two have a late night?”

  “That is true, Graves, and don’t be jealous.” Doc batted his lashes.

  “When do you plan to start the autopsy?” I asked

  “Probably eight AM. I still have to finish photographing and sketching the scene. My assistant has it set up to scan the alley for a 3D representation for a recreation. If I decide to start earlier, I’ll call.”

  “Okay, I’ll probably be at the office after I’m done here. My daughter won’t be expecting me home for breakfast.” I said goodbye to Doc and walked toward the back entrance of the club.

  “Daughter?” Graves asked.

  “Yeah, teenager, Savannah just turned thirteen.” He didn’t ask any more questions as we entered the main room, and I scanned the brightly lit club, the spotlights almost blinding.

  It was easy enough to spot Bianchi in a horseshoe booth with a drink in front of him as he scowled at the uniformed officers.

  “How do you want to work it?”

  “You’re asking my opinion, Douglas? Will wonders never cease?”

  “Quit being a bitch. This is apparently your territory. Inside intel would be appreciated.”

  “Bianchi doesn’t respond well to good cop-bad cop. Be straightforward with him. I won’t say he’ll give you what you want, but he’ll definitely be more respectful.”

  I nodded, and we approached the table. I frowned as the mob boss’s face lit up.

  “Graves, hey, honey.”

  “Hey, Carmine. Been good? How’s the husband?” he asked as he slipped into the booth, and Bianchi ordered someone to bring an espresso. “Didn’t your youngest, Sylvia, just have a birthday? Sixteenth, right?” They were goddamned besties.

  “Never have a daughter, honey, sons, breed like bunnies when you know it’s going to be a boy. Girls. I got grays. All the grays.”

  “Your own fault, Carmine. You and Stephen spoiled her rotten.”

  “That’s all my husband’s doing. I wanted to send her off to a nunnery in the middle of the Antarctic. What was that boarding school you went to, honey?”

  “It was an all-boys one, would defeat the purpose of keeping her safe and chaste, but probably wouldn’t keep her anymore chaste at an all-girls school either.”

  “Your humor has not improved. Your close association with Remy has ruined you.”

  “You still love me, though.”

  “That’s debatable.”

  Graves let out a carefree laugh and thanked a twinky server in skintight clothes when he dropped off the small cup and saucer with a lemon twist on the side.

  “Carmine, this is Detective Marcel Douglas. He’s new in Homicide, started after our crew transferred.”

  “Nice to meet you, Detective. I see you haven’t made friends yet. Get used to being handed the Cold Case cards.”

  “I’m starting to understand the rumors and the power they have. I’ll adapt.”

  “Have a seat. Something to drink, coffee? I’m sure you want to ask me some questions.”

  Again, I was suspicious. Mob-connected men weren’t so quick to talk to cops, and I glanced at Simon as I slid into the spot across from him. He was casual, not an ounce of tension existed, and the ever-present twin indents between his brows were nowhere to be seen.

  “I’m good. I’m sure you’re ready to get home.”

  “My husband is sending me texts every five minutes. He’s anxious when I’m not home, even though I hired him a complete team of bodyguards. Are you married, Detective?”

  “No, divorced. We were both in the military.”

  “Then you understand the worry?”

  “Yes, sir, I do. You wouldn’t meet with me when we found the other body.”

  “I wasn’t here that night. I was actually out of the country. Family trip to celebrate the birthday. As Graves pointed out, my daughter just turned sixteen. Nothing my security team and managers couldn’t inform you of.”

  There was that fond glance at Graves again. There was a story there, yet I was unsure if I wanted to delve too deeply into why he and a mob boss were close enough to remember children’s birthdays. I’d learned from working with Remy and Robert and their team that sometimes it was best not to ask too many questions.

  “It would be pointless to ask if you have enemies?”

  “Everyone has enemies, doesn’t matter if you’re me or a PTA mom, those women are vicious. I offered Stephen a bulletproof vest for meetings.” Bianchi chuckled and I noticed his body language had changed once Graves sat down. He was relaxed and open. Not an ounce of defensiveness in his posture.

  “Did you know the victim?”

  “They asked me to look at him, but he doesn’t appear familiar. I will say, though, whoever dressed him did a spectacular job. Hand-stitched. Not many places have that quality of work anymore.”

  “Hardleston, he’d be a good place to start, I don’t think it’s his work, but he’d know who,” Simon suggested.

  “Our Graves here has excellent taste, and don’t let the lowly cop job fool you.”

  “It’s not lowly, Carmine, be nice.” That was the first time I heard the edge to his voice since we’d entered the building after I’d used his first name. There was something going on there, and I was going to find out what.

  “Drink your coffee, honey,” Bianchi ordered. “He needs a keeper. Type A personality, perfectionist…they never know what’s good for them.”

  “Don’t listen to a word the man says,” he said to me and then glanced back at Carmine. “Keep your suggestions for your pet and leave me out of it.”

  “I apologize, Graves, sincerely.” There wasn’t an ounce of sincerity in his tone, and everyone within listening range knew it.

  Graves snorted and shook his head. “I’d believe it if you weren’t smirking and plotting as we speak. Did they show you photos of the last victim?”

  “Yes, another unknown, cheap suit. Those two didn’t run in the same circles, or they were in different ranks. Graves, you know me. I run my clubs. I’ve stepped back from the business in order to give my husband and children a more normal-ish life. Our sons are living the freedom of college, with bodyguards, of course, because, let’s face it, I’m still paranoid.”

  “Doesn’t mean they aren’t still gunning for you.”

  “Very true, Simon. But what’s the point of warning me with the bodies of men I don’t know? You talked to Seamus yet?” There was amusement when Bianchi asked.

  “No. And this isn’t my case, and I’m not going to.”

  Bianchi laughed loudly. “Aw, still smarting from the affectionate ass pat?”

  “That wasn’t affectionate, Carmine. That was about a second smack from spanking.”

  “Oh, you should’ve seen your face. The pictures were legendary.”

  “Just because my friends are on the LGBTQ spectrum doesn’t mean that I’m looking for a boyfriend. The minute I took this assignment, every horny criminal and crime boss in the city saw a target on my ass.”

  “Can’t blame us for looking.”

  “Behave and talk to Douglas. I’m getting a refill.” Simon slipped out of the booth and picked up his cup and saucer. I tracked him until I saw him lean on the bar.

  “We need to buy that boy a sense of humor,” Bianchi whispered affectionately. “I’m sorry there’s not more I can give you. I can write a list of enemies that are probably in the thick file you already have.”

  “What do you think is going on?”

  “I have no idea, Detective. I’ve slowly withdrawn from that life over the last year or so. I still own my clubs, but we have strict no weapons, drugs, or criminal business policies. Believe me when I say I don’t know why me or my club would be targeted. I’d understand if young men in my employee were dumped, but this isn’t logical.”

  “A lot about this city isn’t logical.” I glanced at Simon.

  “Don’t break your heart on that one.”

  “No intention, and he isn’t my type.”

  “T
all, leanly muscled model beautiful men with a permanent five o’clock shadow and an ass you could bounce a quarter off, aren’t your type? You’re an exceptionally unique man then, Detective.”

  “I hope your husband isn’t a jealous man.”

  “My husband has checked him out more than I have.” He reached into his pocket and removed a business card. “Here, this is my personal contact info. Please don’t hesitate to call me directly if you have further questions.”

  I took the card and stared at him. “I still don’t understand why you’re so cooperative.”

  “You were in the military. You had a wife. That’s a dangerous profession for a family man. When I took over for my old man at twenty-one, I had no intentions of coming out or much less carrying on the family name with some woman I didn’t love. Fifteen years ago, I met a sweet, single dad raising five kids on his own after his divorce. I fought with family tradition and machismo, but in the end, him and his children were everything to me. Leaving a life behind that I never truly wanted wasn’t all that much of a hardship.”

  “If you think of anything else, let me know.”

  “Of course. I’m going home to my family. It’s well past time I tuck my husband in.”

  I stood and waited for him to exit the booth, and I offered my hand. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Bianchi.”

  “Please call me Carmine. Any friend of Graves’s is a friend of mine.”

  That went a bit far, but I didn’t bother correcting him. “Carmine.” I waited for his security to escort him out, and I shifted to see Simon carrying on a conversation with the same young man who served him.

  He was casually leaning against the bar, and I slowly closed the distance between us until I was a few feet away from him. I stood back to listen in on the conversation.

  “Is he still on the couch?”

  “Graves, you know he is. We’ve been together for two years. He should know our anniversary by now.”

  “Honey, you’re dating a firefighter. Most of those guys can’t remember their own names after a shift.”

  “Don’t take the side of the first responder.” The kid pouted and leaned into Simon’s space.

  “Just go home to Tyrone, move his blanket and pillow back to the bedroom. Your last boyfriend forgot he had a boyfriend. Remember, he tried to explain why blowjobs aren’t cheating during said blowjob.”

  I covered my nose and mouth to hide my snort.

  “Did you have to remind me of that one?”

  “Yes, yes, I did. Because I became an unwilling hostage negotiator trying to talk you out of the Xanadu bathroom stall.”

  “You did, didn’t you?”

  “I did. And the sad part was I think that was the highlight of my night.” Simon tweaked the man’s cheek.

  The young man affectionately tugged at the front of Simon’s t-shirt.

  “You’re too handsome and understanding to be single.”

  “Honey, you’re probably the only one to think so.”

  “I think your partner is waiting for your attention.”

  I smirked at the kid as he grinned at me around Simon’s shoulder, and the grumpy man was instantly back. Fuck, I had to figure out how to make up for being an asshole. I wasn’t interested in having a best friend or someone to go out for beers with, but a friendly working environment wouldn’t kill me.

  “You want to have breakfast?” I asked without too much thought.

  “I could eat. I think I had a handful of dry cereal before I went to bed, and then my phone went off.”

  “Is there a place open this time of night?”

  He nodded. “And it’s gourmet.”

  I shook my head at his tiny smirk, and then I was following him back outside. The scene had been cleared of the body. Although, the forensic team was still hard at work.

  “We’re not going far. You can leave your vehicle. They won’t clear the scene for a few more hours, at least. I parked at the Outreach and jogged over,” he said as we stepped out onto the main strip.

  I stood back as he greeted people as he passed. There were even a few hugs exchanged. He confused me. He seemed so closed-off and a bigger asshole than me. Then I overheard conversations, saw him interact with a crime boss like they were old friends, and showed affection to people who more than likely were a week or more overdue for a shower. And he didn’t even hesitate.

  Before I could comment, we stepped up to a classic 50s style diner and walked inside.

  “Mama Sue, feed me.”

  “Boy, you need to find you a person to be your keeper because I ain’t it.” A plump older woman in a uniform slammed her fists on her hips.

  “But, maybe sexy, older women are my thing, ya know? Maybe I’ve always secretly wanted a sugar mama.”

  I laughed behind him as he threw himself around the woman and pressed his face into her neck.

  “You’re a brat. You’ve learned some bad habits from those friends of yours. You were such a good boy before Remy and Doc.”

  “I’ll tell them you approve. I brought you a newbie. He hasn’t experienced the three AM hangover special yet.”

  The woman tsked at me like I’d caused a personal offense. And with them still attached to each other, I was led to a corner booth up front. The space was narrow and looked to be constructed around an old subway car. Once we were seated and she got our drinks and food orders, she left us alone.

  “What’s a three AM hangover special? And you don’t look like the hangover sort.”

  “I’m not, but it’s big and greasy and adds five miles to your morning run. Stevenson brought me here one night after we became full-time partners.”

  “What’s with you and Carmine?”

  “Oh, long history, back when I first started. I worked Organized Crime. It has a shit turnover rate, so they cycle people out to stave off burnout. Bad man, but his family comes first. I respected that, and he respected that I never used his children in a power play.”

  “You’re not sleeping enough, sweetie.” Mama Sue patted Simon’s cheek. “Make sure he gets home safe, newbie.”

  I chuckled as she filled out coffees and walked away.

  “You’re not so bad when you’re not fighting me, Simon.”

  “It’s Graves, Detective. Use it.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  Our shared meal was relatively quiet, not even any snark, but maybe that had more to do with the fact the leanly built man ordered enough food for a damn army. He didn’t seem like the greasy diner food type, but I’d come to meet the Cold Case Unit guys with preconceived notions from rumors around the precinct. I’d learned a lot about their loyalty to each other. The passion they had for the victims. I had to respect them for that. And while I’d gotten friendly with the rest of the guys and somewhat with Vega, Graves and I seemed to go at each other at the least provocation.

  I just had to find out what it was about the man seated across from me that put me so on edge. A part of my issue was I couldn’t figure him out. He was a series of contradictions. I’d seen them when we’d run into each other and also on the rare occasion we worked together. He made me question myself, and at forty-eight, I thought that was a thing in the past.

  Mama Sue interrupted my contemplation to refill our coffees, and I went back to finishing my too early breakfast and ignoring my odd feelings about Graves.

  3

  GRAVES

  I leaned back against the brick wall in the alley behind Bella Notte and cast my gaze right and left, I should’ve left it alone, but I couldn’t. Most people assumed I missed Homicide and I kind of did, but not in the way they thought. It was puzzles, and I’d always loved those, jigsaw to crosswords. They said everyone needed a hobby.

  There were no bigger puzzles than cold cases. It was a challenge. Yet Homicide was about the race. Following the leads before they ran out. Statistics showed you had forty-eight hours to find a suspect before your odds of finding them became harder.

  I’d found the adrenaline rush of it addictive. My nose wrinkled at the scent of days’ old trash. Moldy and musty air that you knew would stay in your nose long after you escaped the space. I leaned my head back against the cold wall and let out a heavy sigh as I tried to calm my mind enough to work.

  “Not the place for hookups now, my friend.”

  I grinned at Carmine’s voice and turned to find him, the flare of matches lit the broad angles of his face as he lit his cigar. “You know I don’t do hookups.” Hell, I didn’t do sex. I’d kept that revelation to myself. With my asshole friends, they’d give me shit for being a virgin barreling towards middle age. Asexual. That label had come up in overheard conversations about the LGBTQ-plus community over the years. I’d listened close without seeming to be, and then I’d caved and asked Vega and Doc questions .