Read Online Unwanted Company - Barbara Seranella by Barbara Seranella - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Seranella
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would probably get would be from
some Mexican jail asking her to come down and bring cash. She grabbed
Asia's hand and walked back across the street. There was no way she
could cover herself without getting Ellen in trouble. She would just
have to wait and hope that Ellen didn't do anything extreme. It was a
slim hope.
Thirty minutes later, Detective Tiger Cassiletti
pulled up in front of her house. He was driving a Chevy Caprice and
dressed in a gray suit. She'd forgotten how tall he was. He still
ducked his head as he walked.
" Hi," she greeted him from her doorway.
"Come on in."
Perhaps he scowled because he was looking into the
sun. As he got closer to her, he smiled tentatively, and his eyes lit
with recognition. "I hope I'm not keeping you from anything?
" It's good to see you again," she said,
smiling. She watched his expression waver, as if trying to choose
between being a cop on a mission or exercising the manners his mother
had taught him.
"Yeah," he said. "How have you been?"
"Just great," she said, leading him into
her house. "I've got over seven years clean and sober. I even
quit smoking." She directed him to take a stool at the kitchen
counter and stood opposite him so that their eyes were at the same
level. "So what's this all about?" she asked.
" We're just trying to fill in some blanks."
He pulled a slim notebook out of the inside breast pocket of his suit
coat. "How is it that you had the phone number that you called
today? "
" My customer last night used my mobile phone. I
keep track of the numbers that are called and compare them to my
monthly bill."
" And your customers are okay with that?" he
asked as he fished out a pen and clicked it open. "You writing
down all the numbers they call?"
She felt her eyes shift from his and cursed herself
for her lack of poise. Cops were trained to look for stuff like that,
even big goofs like Cassiletti. "Yeah, it's never been a
problem." She thought about the hidden microphones. What would
he think of those?
"And are you often in the habit of calling those
numbers?" he asked.
" No, not at all. I sure didn't expect to hear
Detective St. John's voice. Or should I say Lieutenant?"
" Detective is right," Cassiletti said. This
time his eyes darted away.
" I know he got promoted. I used to see him on
the news all the time, giving statements about crimes and
investigations. At least I used to. Did something happen? He didn't
get in any trouble, did he?"
" He took a downgrade and transferred to Parker
Center. "
"He was demoted? "
"Not by the brass. He took a cut in rank so he
could get back into investigations."
"In other words, you're telling me he didn't
want to be a talking head for the department. Cassiletti didn't
answer. She watched him wipe the palm of his hand on his pant leg and
decided to press. "You followed him to Parker Center?"
" We're partners,' he said.
Was that defensiveness in his tone?
"How's Caroline, Mrs. St John, with all this?"
" You'd have to ask her," he said.
Munch wondered if it would be possible to resume some
kind of relationship with Caroline. It would be easier if Munch could
explain why she had distanced herself in the first place. Her
friendship with Mace and Caroline had been one of the many sacrifices
she had willingly made since Asia came into the picture. Munch had
changed the meetings she attended, made new friends, even moved to a
new apartment. All this to avoid having to explain the sudden
presence in her life of a six-month-old child. A child she was
calling her daughter.
" Tell her hi from me when you see her,"
Munch said, trying to keep her tone offhand. As if Caroline Rhinehart
St. John hadn't been one of the most important people in her life. As
Munch's former probation officer, Caroline had been the first person
to extend hope. Mace St. John came in a close second by absolving
Munch of her father's murder. But it was Caroline who had seen beyond
Munch's crude bravado and put in a word where it mattered. In
some Mexican jail asking her to come down and bring cash. She grabbed
Asia's hand and walked back across the street. There was no way she
could cover herself without getting Ellen in trouble. She would just
have to wait and hope that Ellen didn't do anything extreme. It was a
slim hope.
Thirty minutes later, Detective Tiger Cassiletti
pulled up in front of her house. He was driving a Chevy Caprice and
dressed in a gray suit. She'd forgotten how tall he was. He still
ducked his head as he walked.
" Hi," she greeted him from her doorway.
"Come on in."
Perhaps he scowled because he was looking into the
sun. As he got closer to her, he smiled tentatively, and his eyes lit
with recognition. "I hope I'm not keeping you from anything?
" It's good to see you again," she said,
smiling. She watched his expression waver, as if trying to choose
between being a cop on a mission or exercising the manners his mother
had taught him.
"Yeah," he said. "How have you been?"
"Just great," she said, leading him into
her house. "I've got over seven years clean and sober. I even
quit smoking." She directed him to take a stool at the kitchen
counter and stood opposite him so that their eyes were at the same
level. "So what's this all about?" she asked.
" We're just trying to fill in some blanks."
He pulled a slim notebook out of the inside breast pocket of his suit
coat. "How is it that you had the phone number that you called
today? "
" My customer last night used my mobile phone. I
keep track of the numbers that are called and compare them to my
monthly bill."
" And your customers are okay with that?" he
asked as he fished out a pen and clicked it open. "You writing
down all the numbers they call?"
She felt her eyes shift from his and cursed herself
for her lack of poise. Cops were trained to look for stuff like that,
even big goofs like Cassiletti. "Yeah, it's never been a
problem." She thought about the hidden microphones. What would
he think of those?
"And are you often in the habit of calling those
numbers?" he asked.
" No, not at all. I sure didn't expect to hear
Detective St. John's voice. Or should I say Lieutenant?"
" Detective is right," Cassiletti said. This
time his eyes darted away.
" I know he got promoted. I used to see him on
the news all the time, giving statements about crimes and
investigations. At least I used to. Did something happen? He didn't
get in any trouble, did he?"
" He took a downgrade and transferred to Parker
Center. "
"He was demoted? "
"Not by the brass. He took a cut in rank so he
could get back into investigations."
"In other words, you're telling me he didn't
want to be a talking head for the department. Cassiletti didn't
answer. She watched him wipe the palm of his hand on his pant leg and
decided to press. "You followed him to Parker Center?"
" We're partners,' he said.
Was that defensiveness in his tone?
"How's Caroline, Mrs. St John, with all this?"
" You'd have to ask her," he said.
Munch wondered if it would be possible to resume some
kind of relationship with Caroline. It would be easier if Munch could
explain why she had distanced herself in the first place. Her
friendship with Mace and Caroline had been one of the many sacrifices
she had willingly made since Asia came into the picture. Munch had
changed the meetings she attended, made new friends, even moved to a
new apartment. All this to avoid having to explain the sudden
presence in her life of a six-month-old child. A child she was
calling her daughter.
" Tell her hi from me when you see her,"
Munch said, trying to keep her tone offhand. As if Caroline Rhinehart
St. John hadn't been one of the most important people in her life. As
Munch's former probation officer, Caroline had been the first person
to extend hope. Mace St. John came in a close second by absolving
Munch of her father's murder. But it was Caroline who had seen beyond
Munch's crude bravado and put in a word where it mattered. In
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