Carter signed in after they checked his credentials. An officer showed him to an interview room. The place had the bare essentials: a table, two chairs and a legal pad on the table. The floor was bare concrete. No frills here.
Tony was brought in dressed in jail attire and handcuffed. “Mr. Finch, have you gotten me a deal?” He slid into a chair.
Tony had a one-track mind. “The ADA will be contacting your lawyer appointed by the court, and then you’ll meet and she will lay out the deal for you. You will agree to it or not, but I’d advise you to take it.”
“I intend to. Why are you here?”
“I have more questions.”
His shoulders sank. “Oh, man. I don’t know anything else.”
Tony wasn’t in a cooperative mood, so Carter had to give him a little incentive. “I know how Fox found you.”
“How?” Tony sat up straight in his chair. Carter had his attention.
“Did Sapp know you had a record and was convicted of forgery?”
Tony hung his head. “Wendy told him and talked him into letting me stay at the apartment until I could find a job.”
“Who’s Wendy?”
“She’s my girlfriend’s mother.”
“Is she the elderly lady who rents the apartment?”
Tony laughed. “Hell, no. She’s not even fifty. She had my girlfriend when she was seventeen.”
That was interesting. Why would Sapp lie about something like that? Why was he afraid of the truth? And what was the truth?
“So Sapp and Wendy are seeing each other?”
“If you want to call it that. She works in a bar, serving drinks. That’s how she and Sapp met. She was looking for a place to stay and Sapp had one. I’m not sure she even pays rent, but I’m not asking as long as she lets me stay there.”
This had nothing to do with the information Carter was looking for. It just proved that everyone had dirty little secrets.
“Sapp was one of Fox’s gambling buddies. That’s how they know each other. And when Fox was looking for a forger, Sapp found him one.”
“That son of a...”
“I have another question.”
“Man, you’re full of questions and I don’t even know what kind of deal I’m getting.”
“I don’t know what it is, either, but trust me, it will be better than going to trial. As soon as I find out, I’ll let you know. Just be patient.”
“Yeah.” Tony was anything but patient. With the ADA’s caseload, Carter figured she’d get it off her plate real soon, so Tony had to hang in there.
“When I first talked to you about a deal, you were afraid of Fox. Is he violent?”
“I don’t guess it matters now.”
“No. You’re both going to jail.” Carter waited for a second and then asked, “Did he ever threaten you?”
“He always comes to pick up a painting when no one is at home. One day he asked if I would carry the painting to the rental. I noticed there was a fresh scar on his neck, which I could barely see ’cause he’s always dressed in a three-piece suit with a bow tie and a fedora. I casually asked if he hurt himself and he replied that a guy owed him money and thought he could convince Fox otherwise. He then gave a funny laugh and said that man is now in the Chicago River, and if I ever went to the cops, I would join him. He had this evil look in his eyes and I knew he meant it.”
Carter doubted if Fox had ever killed anyone. It was just a way to keep Tony in line. He got to his feet. “If you think of anything else, have someone call me.”
The clanging of metal doors followed him out of the building. He slid into the driver’s seat and placed his briefcase in the back. With a look at Lila’s face, he knew she was upset about something.
“What’s up?”
“I talked to my father.”
“Why do you put yourself through that?”
“I had to know about his part in the gambling.”
“Did you find out anything?”
“Not really. He admitted to the gambling and told me it was none of my business. He also said that my grandmother supplies him the money to gamble. And, get this, Fox has sold my grandmother paintings for her home.”
“Let’s see if we can put this puzzle together. It’s getting very muddled every time we check something. And yet no one has a clear motive. Sapp’s involvement is only that he found Tony for Fox. Other than that, I don’t think he has anything to do with the fire.”
“Does my father?”
Her eyes begged for an honest answer and he didn’t have one, so he went with his gut feeling. “From what you’ve told me about him, I don’t think he has the guts for something like this. And what would he gain? If Rossini offered to pay him, I still think he couldn’t do it. He just doesn’t have the guts to face much of anything in his life, especially his own children.”
It was after five when they walked through the front door of the town house. “I’ll put the soup on the burner while you check your laptop for Richards’s files. We’ll look at them after dinner.”
“Okay. They’re here.” Carter loved the way they worked together so well. It wasn’t long before they had the soup on the table. Lila made coffee and it was a peaceful time before they started sorting through all the information Richards had sent. At least he was cooperating.
Lila took a pain pill and he didn’t say anything. Since they had a lot of work to do, he wanted her to be as pain-free as possible. He really wanted her to rest for a while, but he knew without asking that wasn’t going to fly.
Carter brought his laptop to the table and sent all the files to Lila’s computer. They started to go through them. “Richards was right. Rossini owns a lot of real estate.”
“My gallery was just a drop in his pocket.”
They were deep in when the doorbell rang. Lila jumped up to get it. “Faith,” she exclaimed, and Carter got up and made his way to the door. He knew Faith was her sister-in-law.
A beautiful redhead stood in the doorway with a dark-haired little boy standing in front of her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company.”
“Don’t be silly,” Lila told her. “This is Carter and we’re sorting through some papers about the fire.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, and he shook her hand. She bent down to her son. “And this is Jackson. We heard Lila hurt her hand and we came by to bring her some goodies to make her feel better.”
The little boy held up a bag in one hand; a toy truck was in the other. He handed the bag to Lila. “For you. You got a boo-boo.”
Lila leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Jackson.”
“They’re chocolate chip just like you like and I do, too.”
Lila took the bag. “Come in and have a cup of coffee.”
“No, we better go.”
“I want a cookie,” Jackson muttered.
Carter knew the hesitation was about him. “Please, come in and have a cup of coffee. I’ll get it while you visit.” He took the bag from Lila.
He didn’t realize the little boy had followed him until he almost tripped over him.
“What’s your name?” Jackson asked.
“Carter.” He found a decorative plate for the cookies.
“My name is Jackson and I’m four years old.”
Carter had never been around children and he had no idea what to say to the boy. Luckily, he didn’t have to. The little boy kept talking.
“Can you throw a ball? My daddy can, but he’s not home too much.”
Carter handed him the plate of cookies. “Can you carry this into the living room?”
“Sure. I’m a big boy.”
“Yes, you are.” Carter followed with the coffee.
“Thank you,” Lila said with a smile. It was clear she liked Faith and enjoyed talking to her.
He handed both women a cup. “Lila was just telling me what you do for a living,” Faith said. “That sounds interesting and fun to be able to travel the world.”
“Can I please have something to drink?” Jackson asked.
“How about milk or a soda?”
“Milk,” Faith answered for him.
“Mommy—”
“Soda has caffeine and it will keep you up all night, so the answer is still no.”
Jackson followed him into the kitchen to get the milk. He drank about half of the glass and set it on the counter. “Want to play with my truck? It’s real neat.”
“Uh...” He really didn’t want to play with the truck, but he couldn’t tell the little boy that. From the few minutes he had talked to him, he could see his father’s absence was hard on the boy. At least Carter’s parents had always gotten along. His parents argued like all parents, but he’d never feared that one day they might get a divorce and he might have to go live with one of them. That had to be hard for a four-year-old.
“Carter, where are you?”
He looked around and saw the boy was at the top of the stairs. “Let’s play. The truck’s coming to you. Don’t let it have an accident.”
Carter was totally confused, but he was sure Jackson would show him the way. The boy gave the truck a push and it came flying down the stairs and landed in about eight pieces at Carter’s feet.
Jackson hurried down the stairs and sat on the bottom step. “Oh, no, we had an accident. Now we have to fix the truck.”
Carter sat beside him on the step and started putting the wheels back on the truck, then a hood, then a tailgate, then a motor...
“Jackson, let’s go,” Faith said.
“We’re working on the truck.”
“We have to go. Lila has to rest.”
Carter handed Jackson the truck all back together. “That is a really neat truck.”
“Yeah. Can I come play sometimes?”
“Jackson! Do not invite yourself.”
“Mom—”
“Jackson.”
“Okay. Okay.” He ran into the kitchen and finished drinking his milk. Then he ran into the living room for another cookie and met his mother and Lila at the door.
Jackson probably knew his way around his mother, and that last “Jackson” must have been it. The kid was fun to be around. Since he’d never been around kids, he didn’t see them in his future. Nor did he see a wife or a home. That was just the way he’d thought since graduating high school. He would be the bachelor who had gotten away and that suited him fine. Back then.
Lila squatted and hugged Jackson. “Thank you for the cookies. That was so sweet of you.”
Jackson then ran to him, stuffing the cookie in his mouth before Faith could notice. “Bye, Carter,” he mumbled around a mouthful of cookie.
Did he shake his hand or just say bye? Good heavens! It couldn’t be that hard.
He reached down and picked up Jackson. “It was nice to meet you and your mother, and I hope you can come by again.”
“See, Mommy?” Jackson glanced at his mother and then he kissed Carter’s cheek. “Bye.”
Carter cleared his throat. “B-ye,” he managed.
Lila closed the door after them and patted Carter’s chest. “You look a little shell-shocked.”
“I’ve never been around children and it was nice.”
“Didn’t you say Neil had two daughters?”
He picked up coffee cups from the table and Lila took cookies to the kitchen. “Yes, but the only time I really spent with them was on holidays. And they’re in college now.” As Carter put cups in the dishwasher, the doorbell rang again.
“Jackson must’ve forgotten something.” Lila headed for the door.
“Mom!”
Carter almost dropped a cup. He juggled it for a second and then caught it in time. Her mother and stepfather were here. He wasn’t usually a nervous person, but today his nerves were taking a hit for stability. Lila was grown and so was he. What was the nervousness about?
A woman of medium height with graying brown hair and a big smile walked into the kitchen carrying a big pot. “Oh, Lila, why didn’t you tell me you had company?”
“Mom and Rick, this is Carter, the man who was in the fire with me. We’re working on some information that might help catch the arsonist.”
Her mom set the pot on the stove. “Nice to meet you, Carter. When my baby is sick, all she wants to eat is chicken noodle soup, so I made her some.” She turned to Lila. “How are you, baby?”
“I’m fine.” She held up her hand. “It’s not throbbing as bad as it was before.”
Rick walked up to Carter and shook his hand. “Are they close to solving this thing?”
“Lila and I are searching for something that might help the arson investigators. It just takes one little thing to point us in the right direction.”
“Well, hon, let’s go and let these two get back to work.”
Lila hugged her parents at the door and Rick shook his hand again. Lila’s mother hugged him until he thought he was going to pass out from lack of air. Her mother was a hugger.
“Call if you need anything,” Rick shouted as Lila closed the door.
“You didn’t tell them.”
“I didn’t want to hurt their feelings. Besides, I love chicken noodle soup and I’ll be eating it for about a week.”
They laughed and sat at the table, getting back to work. Before Carter could open a folder, the doorbell rang again.
“How many family members do you have?”
“Too many right now,” she called over her shoulder. “Nash. Come in.”
“No, no. I just saw your parents leaving and I was out this way and wanted to stop and see how you were doing. I told the brothers I would check in. Oh...” He noticed Carter in the kitchen doorway.
“This is Carter, the guy who saved our butts from the fire. And this is my cousin Nash, the architect.”
They shook hands. The guy was well over six feet tall with dark blond hair and hazel eyes. He and Lila looked about the same age and they must have played together as kids. It had to be nice to have those kinds of memories.
“I really can’t stay. I’m looking at an old house out this way to see if it can be restored, and I told Aaron and Damon that I would look in to see if you were okay or needed cheering up.”
“I just fell and I’m fine, but thanks for thinking of me.”
“It’s hard to imagine sometimes that someone who is so beautiful and graceful can be a klutz.”
“Don’t start...”
He put an arm around her waist and kissed her forehead. “Love you. Gotta run. I’ll spread the news that you’re okay. Nice to meet you, Carter.” In a flash, he was out the door.
Carter stared at her serene face. She loved her family and she loved that they thought of her. That was what life was about, he’d heard. Love, family and home. He could see in her eyes why it meant so much to have someone there for you. If he got sick, he would be on his own with no one to make him chicken soup. Part of him had always known that and he was comfortable in that skin. Why was he now having doubts and second thoughts and insecurities? That wasn’t him.
“Want to chance it?” She walked toward the table. “I think that’s the last of my loving family.”
Before Carter could sit, his phone buzzed. “My turn.” He pulled his cell out of his pocket. “Neil,” he mouthed and walked into the living room to talk.
“The painting in Milan was a forgery,” Neil said. “The police were waiting for the man when he came in to get his money. Marla wants to spend a little more time here, so I won’t be coming home for about a week. I got a call about a painting in London that is suspected to be a forgery. I haven’t had time to go over all the details, but when I do, you’ll be going to London.”
“Oh, London, okay.”
“Did everything go smoothly with Martell?” Neil asked.
“Yes. They’re working out the details and he’ll go straight to prison.”
“Have the authorities arrested Fox?”
“No, but the police are keeping a tail on him in case he’s involved with the fire. We thought that since Tony was in jail, Fox would bolt. So far he’s staying quiet. He may not even know Tony has been arrested.”
“Carter, the fire doesn’t concern us. Arrest Fox and get it over with.”
“It concerns me.” His voice grew rigid.
“How are things with the Colton woman?”
This was what Carter hated: the questioning. Neil was an expert at it. “Listen, Neil, I have to go. Just let me know when you’re coming home or when you get details about the London painting.”
He turned to see Lila’s eyes on him. “Are you leaving?”
“Not just yet.” He tried to take the hurt from her eyes but failed. They both knew his time was almost up.
“You’re going to London?”
“In about a week.” He didn’t lie, but honesty came with the price of hurting her. He tapped his laptop on the table, wanting to think about something else. “There’s so much information here that it will take forever to get through it. I think our best bet would be to talk to the main players.”
“Like?”
“Fox, Rossini, Sapp or any name that is on a file. I have this gut feeling that something was missed.”
Lila went through the titles of files on her screen. “Looks like Richards sent us everything he has.”
Carter had the same thing on his laptop. “Yeah, everything. Even Savon is on here.”
“She said they interviewed her and that they even checked out her story with the boyfriend. They even confirmed it with security cameras at the restaurant. Richards and his team did a thorough job. I just don’t know what they could have missed.” She got up and went to the counter for a pain pill.
What was he thinking, keeping her up this late? He gently put his arm around her waist. “Bedtime. We’re not going to argue about this. You need some rest and we’ll start over tomorrow.”
She leaned against him. “I’m not going to argue. I am feeling a little tired.”
They went up the stairs and Lila was more than ready to go to bed. He tucked her in. “Need anything?”
She shook her head and went to sleep.
Carter wasn’t ready for bed, so he went back downstairs to go through the files again, hoping something would catch his eye. He kept coming back to the same file. Tanya Wilcox, Rossini’s mistress. She lived in a suite at a hotel that Rossini owned near downtown. She’d been there for about two years, and what stood out to him was Tanya and Wendy worked at the same bar. If they had millionaire boyfriends, why did they have to work?
He ran his hands up his face and stretched. Every time he kept digging, he found information that didn’t make sense. Like the Wendy/Tanya situation. He scrolled down the information, looking for the owner of the club. And there it was in black and white. Lou Rossini. Once again, the thought visited his mind: Rossini had no motive to burn down the gallery for money. The bar was very profitable.
He went to bed to give his eyes a rest, hoping something would come together in his head. But all he was accomplishing was pointing the finger more and more at Lila.