Read Online The Perfect Couple by Brenda Novak - Free Book Online
Authors: Brenda Novak
Tags: Fiction, General, Suspense, Romance, Suspense fiction, Private Investigators, Romantic Suspense Fiction, Kidnapping, Missing Children, Sacramento (Calif.)
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pressed.
A spark of emotion lit her pale face. "No, Anton! I'll take care of it."
Clearly unhappy with this response, Anton shook his head. "You're going to wind up in the hospital. And then what good will you be to Sam?"
As far as Jonathan was concerned, they could argue later. "You're..."
"Zoe's fiance," the man said.
Just as he'd suspected. "Great. Mr. Lucassi." He smiled. "Let's not 48
worry about a nap right now, okay? We need to focus on the problem at hand. Could you both take a few minutes to sit down with me?"
A muscle twitched in Lucassi's cheek. He didn't like being overridden but eventually gave a curt nod and led them into a living room decorated in white and black with several art deco sculptures. It reminded Jonathan more of a high-rent office than a living room.
"Can I get you a drink?" Zoe asked. Her offer was polite, automatic, an attempt at normalcy. But Jonathan could sense how fragile she was. He had the impression her composure might shatter at any moment. And Lucassi wasn't helping. Although he was clearly doing his best, the friction between them was as apparent as her desperation.
"No, thanks." Jonathan seated himself on an expensive-looking leather couch. Taking a small recorder from his pocket, he situated it on the glass coffee table in front of him. "Do you mind if I record our conversation?"
"I'd rather you didn't," Anton said.
Jonathan felt his eyebrows slide up. "Is there a reason?"
Lucassi selected a chair opposite the leather couch. "I'm worried about Sam and what this is doing to Zoe. But everyone knows that in a situation like this, those closest to the girl are always the first to be investigated. I was the last person to talk to her, and found her gone. I'm guessing that I'm going to become a suspect at some point. And that makes me nervous."
"Did you harm Sam?" Jonathan asked point-blank.
Lucassi rocked back. "Absolutely not!"
"Then relax and let me do my job. I was a cop here in Sacramento for six years before I hung out my own shingle. I've been through this a few times, and I've learned it's best to record conversations that could reveal important information so I don't lose any of it. It also helps to be able to watch the expressions of the people who are speaking, which is difficult to do while I'm writing."
Anton shifted uncomfortably. "In case they're lying."
"Yes. But if you're not lying, you don't have to worry."
"There's been more than one innocent man sent to prison."
"I'm not trying to pin this on anyone." Jonathan held his gaze. "All I care about is finding Samantha."
Lucassi blinked, then nodded, and Jonathan scooted forward. "I'm here to help you, okay?"
Zoe Duncan perched on the edge of her seat, her back straight, hands folded in her lap. "Don't listen to Anton. He's just...we're both so...frightened and confused."
"I understand." What was this beautiful young woman doing with a 49
man like Lucassi? He treats her better than any of the other jerks she's hooked up with over the years, Skye had said. Considering Lucassi's condescending manner, those previous relationships must've been bad indeed. Jonathan couldn't have tolerated someone like Lucassi for five minutes. "For the record, could you both state your full names and birthdates?"
"Zoe Elizabeth Duncan. September 13, 1980."
Nineteen-eighty. That meant she was Jonathan's age. Briefly, he tried to imagine a girl in his sophomore class as a rape victim, having a baby at fifteen or sixteen--and keeping it. They'd been mere kids at sixteen. To top it all off, Zoe hadn't had the support system he'd enjoyed. Knowing what he did about her father, he wondered how she'd gotten by in those early years.
But now wasn't the time to ask. He turned his attention to Lucassi.
"And you, sir?"
"Anton Kenneth Lucassi. November 1, 1965."
Fifteen years between them. Jonathan would've guessed at least that much. "Mr. Lucassi, you mentioned you were the last to talk to Zoe's daughter, and the first one home.
A spark of emotion lit her pale face. "No, Anton! I'll take care of it."
Clearly unhappy with this response, Anton shook his head. "You're going to wind up in the hospital. And then what good will you be to Sam?"
As far as Jonathan was concerned, they could argue later. "You're..."
"Zoe's fiance," the man said.
Just as he'd suspected. "Great. Mr. Lucassi." He smiled. "Let's not 48
worry about a nap right now, okay? We need to focus on the problem at hand. Could you both take a few minutes to sit down with me?"
A muscle twitched in Lucassi's cheek. He didn't like being overridden but eventually gave a curt nod and led them into a living room decorated in white and black with several art deco sculptures. It reminded Jonathan more of a high-rent office than a living room.
"Can I get you a drink?" Zoe asked. Her offer was polite, automatic, an attempt at normalcy. But Jonathan could sense how fragile she was. He had the impression her composure might shatter at any moment. And Lucassi wasn't helping. Although he was clearly doing his best, the friction between them was as apparent as her desperation.
"No, thanks." Jonathan seated himself on an expensive-looking leather couch. Taking a small recorder from his pocket, he situated it on the glass coffee table in front of him. "Do you mind if I record our conversation?"
"I'd rather you didn't," Anton said.
Jonathan felt his eyebrows slide up. "Is there a reason?"
Lucassi selected a chair opposite the leather couch. "I'm worried about Sam and what this is doing to Zoe. But everyone knows that in a situation like this, those closest to the girl are always the first to be investigated. I was the last person to talk to her, and found her gone. I'm guessing that I'm going to become a suspect at some point. And that makes me nervous."
"Did you harm Sam?" Jonathan asked point-blank.
Lucassi rocked back. "Absolutely not!"
"Then relax and let me do my job. I was a cop here in Sacramento for six years before I hung out my own shingle. I've been through this a few times, and I've learned it's best to record conversations that could reveal important information so I don't lose any of it. It also helps to be able to watch the expressions of the people who are speaking, which is difficult to do while I'm writing."
Anton shifted uncomfortably. "In case they're lying."
"Yes. But if you're not lying, you don't have to worry."
"There's been more than one innocent man sent to prison."
"I'm not trying to pin this on anyone." Jonathan held his gaze. "All I care about is finding Samantha."
Lucassi blinked, then nodded, and Jonathan scooted forward. "I'm here to help you, okay?"
Zoe Duncan perched on the edge of her seat, her back straight, hands folded in her lap. "Don't listen to Anton. He's just...we're both so...frightened and confused."
"I understand." What was this beautiful young woman doing with a 49
man like Lucassi? He treats her better than any of the other jerks she's hooked up with over the years, Skye had said. Considering Lucassi's condescending manner, those previous relationships must've been bad indeed. Jonathan couldn't have tolerated someone like Lucassi for five minutes. "For the record, could you both state your full names and birthdates?"
"Zoe Elizabeth Duncan. September 13, 1980."
Nineteen-eighty. That meant she was Jonathan's age. Briefly, he tried to imagine a girl in his sophomore class as a rape victim, having a baby at fifteen or sixteen--and keeping it. They'd been mere kids at sixteen. To top it all off, Zoe hadn't had the support system he'd enjoyed. Knowing what he did about her father, he wondered how she'd gotten by in those early years.
But now wasn't the time to ask. He turned his attention to Lucassi.
"And you, sir?"
"Anton Kenneth Lucassi. November 1, 1965."
Fifteen years between them. Jonathan would've guessed at least that much. "Mr. Lucassi, you mentioned you were the last to talk to Zoe's daughter, and the first one home.
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