Nick?” he asked crossing his right foot casually over his left knee, exposing most of one of the Western riding boots he wore.
“I got back from the funeral last week…” Nick hesitated for a moment. “Joe’s funeral. It was in Italy. You knew, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I’m sorry I couldn’t attend.”
“It’s OK. Nobody from the States was there—except me, of course.”
Rosa looked down, slightly embarrassed. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t go. I heard he was refused a Catholic burial here in the States.”
Nick rose from his seat and walked toward the window, which was covered with heavy velvet drapes. He pulled one aside to look out. The view of Norristown was dreary and disappointing—a broken down, has-been town whose only claim to fame was a state mental hospital closed two decades ago. The wise had fled long ago, and the mentally troubled had wound up on the streets and on the steps of the courthouse, thanks to the fine work of the ACLU. No wonder the drapes were closed, he thought. He let the panel fall back in place.
“Yeah, the Church took his money for years and then they wouldn’t bury him. Condemned him to hell. Can you imagine that! I’m glad I never gave them a dime.” He walked back toward Mike Rosa and stopped. “But that’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to ask you a favor.”
Rosa put his cup down and looked squarely at the handsome young man. “What do you want, Nick?”
“I want you to help me find Joe’s murderer.”
Rosa smiled slightly. “You’re a stubborn one. Nick, I told you that all the evidence—and you know what it is so I don’t have to go through it again—it all points to murder-suicide.”
“Suggests,” Nick retorted. “Just suggests—and you know it,” he said pointing at Rosa while pacing back and forth. “That’s why you still have it as an ‘open’ case. Right?”
“All right, I do,” Rosa admitted. “And I will as long as the fraud investigation is continuing.”
“Why? Do you think there’s some possible connection with Joe’s death?”
“Not necessarily—and I don’t have to explain my reasons to you, Nick.”
“That’s true. You don’t. But in your heart you want to do the right thing by Joe. Don’t you?”
“Look, you’re emotional and not too rational right now. I can understand that…”
“Mike, don’t you want to have the results of the attorney general’s investigation?”
“Sure I do.”
“Well so do I. Mike, maybe you won’t get all the information. The full story . I can help you. Just help me. Keep the case open—that’s all. And, most of all, give me your support.”
Rosa shook his head. “Nick, how are you going to get any information? They have all the files, all the computer data, all the personnel files in that office—even yours. I have to rely on official records, records already in the hands of the attorney general.”
Nick grinned at Rosa. He stood up and took off his coat and laid it on the sofa. “I’ll show you how.”
Rosa grinned back. “You have more balls than brains. But go ahead. Show me.”
“Just wait two minutes. I’ll be right back.” Nick ran out the door and in two minutes was back with Maria Elena Maglio.
Her walk was purposely sexy. She glided gracefully into the room as if she were on a runway. She wore black leather jeans and an ivory silk blouse, partly unbuttoned to reveal the slightest cleavage. Her black leather coat was draped casually over her shoulders. She smiled.
Rosa tried not to stare. But he couldn’t help it. His eyes were glued to her as they moved down her long, shimmering legs. He watched her as she moved to the cherry credenza where family photos were displayed. There were at least a dozen of them: Mike and his wife Clair in tennis whites, his sons Brian and Stephen, from diapers to Little League. But she ignored them.
“ Che belissimi ,” she said, picking up the photo of the twin white Arabians, Mike’s other family—his
“I got back from the funeral last week…” Nick hesitated for a moment. “Joe’s funeral. It was in Italy. You knew, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I’m sorry I couldn’t attend.”
“It’s OK. Nobody from the States was there—except me, of course.”
Rosa looked down, slightly embarrassed. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t go. I heard he was refused a Catholic burial here in the States.”
Nick rose from his seat and walked toward the window, which was covered with heavy velvet drapes. He pulled one aside to look out. The view of Norristown was dreary and disappointing—a broken down, has-been town whose only claim to fame was a state mental hospital closed two decades ago. The wise had fled long ago, and the mentally troubled had wound up on the streets and on the steps of the courthouse, thanks to the fine work of the ACLU. No wonder the drapes were closed, he thought. He let the panel fall back in place.
“Yeah, the Church took his money for years and then they wouldn’t bury him. Condemned him to hell. Can you imagine that! I’m glad I never gave them a dime.” He walked back toward Mike Rosa and stopped. “But that’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to ask you a favor.”
Rosa put his cup down and looked squarely at the handsome young man. “What do you want, Nick?”
“I want you to help me find Joe’s murderer.”
Rosa smiled slightly. “You’re a stubborn one. Nick, I told you that all the evidence—and you know what it is so I don’t have to go through it again—it all points to murder-suicide.”
“Suggests,” Nick retorted. “Just suggests—and you know it,” he said pointing at Rosa while pacing back and forth. “That’s why you still have it as an ‘open’ case. Right?”
“All right, I do,” Rosa admitted. “And I will as long as the fraud investigation is continuing.”
“Why? Do you think there’s some possible connection with Joe’s death?”
“Not necessarily—and I don’t have to explain my reasons to you, Nick.”
“That’s true. You don’t. But in your heart you want to do the right thing by Joe. Don’t you?”
“Look, you’re emotional and not too rational right now. I can understand that…”
“Mike, don’t you want to have the results of the attorney general’s investigation?”
“Sure I do.”
“Well so do I. Mike, maybe you won’t get all the information. The full story . I can help you. Just help me. Keep the case open—that’s all. And, most of all, give me your support.”
Rosa shook his head. “Nick, how are you going to get any information? They have all the files, all the computer data, all the personnel files in that office—even yours. I have to rely on official records, records already in the hands of the attorney general.”
Nick grinned at Rosa. He stood up and took off his coat and laid it on the sofa. “I’ll show you how.”
Rosa grinned back. “You have more balls than brains. But go ahead. Show me.”
“Just wait two minutes. I’ll be right back.” Nick ran out the door and in two minutes was back with Maria Elena Maglio.
Her walk was purposely sexy. She glided gracefully into the room as if she were on a runway. She wore black leather jeans and an ivory silk blouse, partly unbuttoned to reveal the slightest cleavage. Her black leather coat was draped casually over her shoulders. She smiled.
Rosa tried not to stare. But he couldn’t help it. His eyes were glued to her as they moved down her long, shimmering legs. He watched her as she moved to the cherry credenza where family photos were displayed. There were at least a dozen of them: Mike and his wife Clair in tennis whites, his sons Brian and Stephen, from diapers to Little League. But she ignored them.
“ Che belissimi ,” she said, picking up the photo of the twin white Arabians, Mike’s other family—his
Similar Books
