Solomon was already seated at a table next to the window when I arrived. He was sipping from a plain mug. I leaned in to kiss him and give him a quick hug before I took the seat opposite. "Did you order already?" I asked.
Solomon shook his head. "Just coffee. I thought I'd wait for you."
"You just want to know what I'm going to order."
"I might want to eat yours too. I'm hungry."
"Busy day?"
"A day without enough snacks."
"Rough." I nodded sympathetically as I picked up the menu, browsing it and mentally choosing seven plates. If I came back every day for a week, I could eat them all. If Solomon picked one, and I ate half of it and picked a different one, I could reduce the amount of visits to five. Not for the first time in my life, I realized math really was quite useful in the real world.
When the waitress arrived, Solomon ordered a burger and fries and I ordered the same plus a coffee, as I redid my mental math. I was pretty sure my initial equation was wrong, so what the hell? I just had to return more often.
"That's a look of pure concentration on your face. What are you thinking about?" asked Solomon.
"Food."
"You are such a Graves," he said.
"Speaking of family, we haven't discussed Mom and Dad's pasta party. What should we bring?"
"Pasta?"
I rolled my eyes. "That's a given. Do we make a special sauce? Or bring a side dish? I could make pasta from scratch?"
A smile played on Solomon's lips. "Can you do that?" he asked.
"No."
"Do you have time?"
"No."
"Then, how were you planning to make it?"
"There's a new Italian deli two blocks from the house that makes it. The owner's father is from Sicily and he only shouts in Italian but he understands some English. If I walk there, I’ll cover the effort part. Just don't tell anyone."
"I've got your back," said Solomon, smiling now. "I'll make that spicy sausage sauce you like."
I beamed at him. "We've nailed married life."
"Absolutely." We paused as our food was delivered and for a few minutes allowed the busy sounds of the late lunch crowd to wash over us. "Where are you with the bank case?" I asked.
"It completely perplexes me."
"Sounds about right."
"I can't imagine how Charlie Sampson expects us to solve it. I feel like he wants us to wear blindfolds and handcuffs before trying to make our way through a maze."
Until Solomon mentioned a maze, that sounded exciting. "So you're turning him down after all?" I wondered.
"I agreed to take it. It might be the most challenging thing we've done to date."
"Remember that time we took down a serial killer?" I reminded him.
"Don't remind me."
"Or when we solved the murder of a pop princess?"
"I try to never think about that." Solomon took a bite of his burger before putting it down and wiping his mouth with the napkin. There was really no need. I would have happily licked his face. "It's almost impossible to solve and maybe that’s why the case creates so much intrigue. That, and the FBI’s appearance tell me it's something much bigger than Charlie is letting on. I have to admit, my curiosity is getting the better of me." His eyes narrowed.
"And?" I prompted, wondering what he wasn't admitting, although I could guess.
"And those thieves could have hurt you," he said, looking out the window but not before I saw the flash of pain on his face. "What if you were the one that got shot?"
"I didn't." When Solomon didn't reply, I reached for his hand, squeezing it. "Hey," I said softly. "I didn't get hurt. I'm fine and now I can provide more critical assistance as a primary witness."
"Which is why I assigned you to the case," said Solomon. "Also, stop stealing my fries with your other hand."
"When you find the perpetrators, what will you do?" I asked, withdrawing four fries and hastily eating them.
Solomon shrugged. "Hand them over."
"The fries? Too late."
"The thieves," he clarified.
"Straight away?"
Solomon returned his gaze to me. "Eventually," he said, his voice thick with anger.
"No vigilante justice," I said. "I wasn't hurt, remember? Whomever these guys are, they will not have just a book, but a whole library thrown at them for shooting a cop. They'll never see the light of day again from their prison cells."
"That worries me."
"Why? It's a good thing."
"No, not justice. The robbers will almost certainly go to any lengths now to keep from getting caught. We don't have long to find this crew. We're already a day behind so we can’t afford to lose anymore time. There will be long hours. We'll be starting early, and working late."
"What about my case?" I asked. Solomon frowned. "Austen Takahashi," I prompted. "I told you on the phone."
"Can you push it back at all? Next week perhaps?"
"No, I thought about that on the way over but the time factor is also critical for that. What he asked me to look into might turn out to be the attempted murder of his wife." I reached for Solomon's fries again and when he didn't stop me, I dived in for a second handful. Salty, crispy, and utterly delicious. For a brief moment, the taste transported me back to the days when Lily and I used to eat at O'Grady's before she opened her own bar.
"What's your take on the Takahashis?"
"It wasn't him, if that's what you're asking."
"I was. Most femicides are committed by a male that is already known to the victim, especially in domestic cases."
"I think we can rule that out here. Austen wasn't anywhere near the scene and didn't even go to their house, which is where it happened, until after she was taken to the hospital. Their contractor found her. Plus, Austen wants me to find out what, exactly, happened to her."
"I don't know if it's possible to handle two big cases. Do you want me to find someone else to hand it off to?"
"Like whom?" I asked. "You distributed our workload already and I assume all the available investigators are already working on the bank case with you. Besides, I don't want to hand it off. I will help you wherever I can. I know how to manage my time effectively," I said, feeling more decisive and confident than I ever did before after making such a statement. If only my former bosses could hear me now!
"If you do become overwhelmed, you'll tell me?"
"Of course."
"Then go right ahead. Perhaps it's better for you not to get involved with the bank case."
"I appreciate the show of faith and I agree. You said you heard of Austen Takahashi? What else can you tell me about him?"
"Nothing personal that I can think of but I read a few business articles that mentioned him. From what I recall, he came from family money until they lost it all in some big crash. I forget the exact details. Austen was a good student and nearly through school when it happened so the school created a scholarship just for him to allow him to finish."
"That was kind."
"Yeah, I thought so too, but I also think the school probably benefited greatly from the family's donations over the years so it would have been bad press to turf out the child. I think there was an older brother, or maybe a sister. Anyway, Austen went on to an Ivy League university and started a business in his spare time. By the time he graduated, he had repaid all his school loans as well as his sibling's, and hired twenty employees."
"Wow."
"He started multiple businesses and made instant successes of them. I think he sold a couple and diversified, buying some that were struggling and turning them around. He's pretty ethical too. He doesn't take over a company and chop it up to sell all the parts while laying off the former employees. He looks for a solid premise and then nurtures and builds it up. His business practices are pretty impressive. From what I remember, he believes corporate profits should be smaller in order to ensure the employees a better standard of life. Everyone wins."
All of that was interesting and said plenty about Austen's professional character but I wondered if it were enough information to determine whether someone tried to hurt him by injuring his wife. "Do you remember anything personal about him?" I asked.
"Not off the top of my head. He seems to cherish his privacy."
"What about his wife?"
"I don't remember reading anything about her at all, and you should know I'm not the man to ask about society gossip or any of that stuff."
"That's my field," I admitted since it was true. "He seems to genuinely love her."
"Perhaps he does." Solomon took another bite from his burger and gave it an approving nod as he cast a glance at my fries. I raised my eyebrows, daring him.
"I believe so. He can't think of any enemies from either of their pasts, or anyone that would want to hurt his wife, although her brother sounds like a jerk. However, he did say something very strange."
"What?"
"That he didn't think his wife was whom she said she was. If he's right, and she is hiding something, she might have gotten into some kind of trouble that has nothing to do with him."
"Trouble so bad that someone would actually attempt to kill her?" Solomon sat back in his seat and fixed me with a carefully studied expression. I knew that look; he thought I should be more careful.
"Yeah, but they didn't succeed. Sophie survived. But continuing with that hypothesis, do you think the potential perpetrator would try again?"
"Maybe. If there's any hope of her regaining consciousness, she could potentially identify her attacker. If they have a serious issue with her, for whatever reason, they might not want to risk it."
"I suggested we provide someone to watch over Sophie when Austen isn't there, and a bodyguard could be the answer. Can you spare a man?"
"I can and I know just the guy. Started in the risk assessment unit six months ago. Name's Frank. He also worked as a high-level bodyguard. Say the word and he's yours."
"I’ll ask Austen and let you know. What are your plans after lunch?" I asked, circling my finger over my rapidly diminishing order.
"We have another meeting with Charlie but this time, it’s at the bank. We're going to wade through their security footage. I hope something stands out from one or more of the robbers and we can use that to start looking for them. I'd like you to meet us there."
"No problem. I can check in with Garrett and ask what he knows too before I start the Takahashi case."
"And the FBI?"
I knew what Solomon meant: did I contact Maddox and his partner, Special Agent Sadiq Farid yet?
"I can do that. Or you can."
"They might let something slip with you."
"I think Maddox works very hard not to let anything slip around me."
Solomon huffed. "You'll think of something." He finished his burger, smacking my hand gently when I went in for another handful of fries before relenting and letting me take some.
"Thanks," I managed to say between bites. Why did food taste so much better from his plate? In the spirit of marriage, I pushed my plate to the middle of the table and Solomon helped himself.
"Can you meet me at the bank at four PM?" he asked.
I nodded.
"Do you feel okay about going there? If you'd rather skip it..."
I shrugged. "Nope. I've gotten past much worse experiences."
"Unfortunately, this is true." Solomon signaled the waitress and gestured for the check. When she brought it over, he handed her the cash, grabbing his jacket as he got to his feet. "We really need to start shopping for cars. I had to walk here," he said, "Have you thought about what brand of car you want?"
"A Ferrari," I said, my lips twitching as I held back a smile.
"Perhaps something a little less flashy?"
"Then no, I haven't decided."
"As soon as these cases are solved, we’ll go shopping for a new car." Solomon kissed me and I watched him walk out of the diner. Then I observed several other patrons watching him walk across the parking lot to the sidewalk. One of them loudly sighed. With a roll of my eyes, I followed my husband outside.
In the car, I dialed the number Austen gave me for Zach Gallo. Since he was Sophie Takahashi's only relative, I wanted to talk to him about his sister and get a feel for the kind of man he was. Austen's suspicions still puzzled me. I couldn't quite work out how someone with a supposedly hidden past could also have a very visible brother. Surely anyone who changed their identity or intended to hide something about their past wouldn't appear to have anyone? It was far more likely that someone in hiding would create a story about a family who died or abandoned them; people that could never be traced or contacted. I needed to corroborate their identities as a primary measure, and then get Zach's take on his sister's accident, gleaning whatever I could about his personality. Austen gave me the impression Sophie wasn't as close to Zach as she once was, and I wanted to know if Zach agreed with that assessment. If something was driving a wedge between them, could that same something be the source of Sophie's attack?
Zach didn't answer my call and a generic voice invited me to leave a message. Instead, I disconnected.
A dozen ideas whipped through my mind as I drove to the police station, each more fanciful than the last. Did Sophie have a secret gambling addiction and owe money to the wrong people? Had she witnessed a terrible crime only to be silenced? Was she having an affair and her lover tried to kill her when she wouldn't leave Austen for him? Was her attack a message to Austen from a disgruntled employee at one of his businesses? By the time I parked near the police department, the only thing I knew was: I had to keep an open mind and explore all avenues.
I picked up a visitor's badge from the desk sergeant and headed to Garrett's office, a route that usually took me a long time. I was almost certain to bump into several serving family members. This time took even longer since they'd all heard about the bank robbery and that I was present. By the time I reached Garrett, I was ready to get a coffee, sit down and let him tell me everything.
"I’ve got nothing for you," said Garrett when I stepped through the doorway. A stack of paperwork covered a large portion of his desk and he paused his typing on the computer.
"You don't even know why I'm here," I said.
"The bank robbery."
"Okay, so you do know but you don't know what I'm going to ask."
"It's not my case."
"Why the hell not?" I sighed as I dropped into the chair opposite his desk.
"Make yourself at home," grumbled Garrett, reluctantly giving me his attention as he rested his forearms on his desk and leaned forwards.
"Thanks. Can I have a coffee, please? I just ran into three of our uncles and seven cousins."
"Hah," said Garrett. "I got grilled by seventeen relatives, but thankfully, I outrank them all, so they only get thirty seconds before they have to leave me alone."
"It's nice they're so concerned about me."
"Mostly surprised you didn't get shot."
"So little faith." Garrett grunted and I decided not to question his apparent agreement with them. "How's Officer Andersen doing?" I asked.
"Fine. He was released from the hospital last night. It was a clean shot so he got a complete check-up and stitches but required no surgery. He's home now resting. The chief will probably award him a medal for bravery."
"Seriously?"
"And a promotion too, no doubt."
"He shouldn't have taken them on. He was pretty reckless."
"I agree, given how outgunned he was and all, but he still emerged a hero. You might get a nice handshake from the chief for admirably performing emergency aid."
"I'd like a set of new clothes. It's tough getting blood stains out."
"You should ask Solomon for a clothes budget."
"I would but I suspect he'll have strict limitations on what I can buy. It'll all be practical garments in dark shades. I'm not a dark shade person! I'm sunny!" I pointed to my pink pants.
"Have you thought about having two wardrobes, one for work clothes and the other for non-work clothes?"
"No, that never occurred to me."
"Maybe you should consider it."
"Solomon hired me because I don't look like a PI. If I start dressing like one, I'll never solve any cases. People will suspect me instantly and clam up."
"I don't think your fashion choices are the sole reason Solomon hired you."
"He liked my brain too."
"The fact he ultimately married you had absolutely nothing to do with what he was thinking when he hired you."
"Glad we both agree on that," I replied. "Now about the bank robbery..."
"Jord caught it."
"Caught what?"
"The bank case. It's his. You need to bug him for all the info."
I gaped. "That's not how this works. I always bug you!"
Garrett grinned. "Not today, sis'."
"I'm surprised Jord didn't interview me again. How careless. I better run through my statement with him, just to double check he has everything he needs."
"Ten bucks says he already knows you're in the building and expects you to turn up in his office any minute."
"I tried to come in stealthily. It's not my fault we're related to so many cops."
"Have you ever tried wearing a disguise?"
I stuck my tongue out. "Some help you are," I said, rising to my feet. "Where is Jord's office?"
"You don't know?"
"I've never bugged him at work before."
"Go back to the staircase, hang a right, walk directly to the end and you'll see the bullpen. If he's not there, he's probably out in the field."
I brightened. "He has a lead already?"
"You'll need to ask him that."
I got up and adjusted my sleeves. "Hey, did Maddox tell you what he was doing at the bank?"
"No. Weird that he and Farid showed up. I don't know who called them."
"You didn't?" I also wondered who called them when Maddox claimed to be in the area.
"Nope. The bank manager didn't seem to think anything was stolen but even if it were, I can't imagine why the Feds included it in their purview."
"Huh," I said, thinking about Charlie Sampson's entirely different story back at the agency. "I'll see you at Mom and Dad's?"
"Sure thing."
"Before I go, does the name Austen Takahashi mean anything to you? Or Sophie Takahashi?"
"Can't say I ever heard of either one."
We waved as I left and I followed Garrett's directions, reaching Jord's shared office only a couple of minutes later. The room was stuffy and busy with several old desks spaced equidistantly. The windows were hidden behind partially open metal blinds, with one set barely clinging to its attachments. There was a dead potted plant on the window sill amid a pile of folders. A radio played softly. Aside from Jord, there were two other men and three women occupying the office, each clad in off-the-rack suits and the kind of comfortable footwear I doubted I'd ever feel comfortable wearing in public.
Jord looked up and waved me over as he checked his watch. "You took ten minutes to get here," he said.
I rolled my eyes. "I owe Garrett ten bucks," I sighed.
"What for?"
"Never mind. Garrett wouldn't give me any coffee. Can you get me one, please, while we go over my witness report in case I missed anything?"
"Did you miss anything?"
"Maybe. Coffee?" I turned my pleading eyes on him.
"The coffee pot is busted. Either bring your own or beg from another department."
"What kind of a place is this?"
"Your average, underfunded, overworked police department."
"Garrett sometimes has fresh donuts in his office."
"No need to boast."
"Fine. I'll survive without. I'm glad you got the case. Are you excited?"
"Thrilled!" Jord gave me jazz hands while his face remained passive. "Always wanted to catch a bank robber."
"When you were little, you wanted to be a bank robber."
"That ambition didn't go over so well when I announced it at Dad's birthday party one year."
"You did proclaim it to a roomful of cops."
Jord relaxed in his chair, which gave an ominous squeak. "Yeah, kinda ruined it for me. They all wanted a role in keeping me on the straight and narrow when I was a teenager. The only reprieve came when I entered the police academy. I swear, they've waited years to ask if I had anything to do with this. The jokes are just rolling in."
I laughed too. That was more fun than fending off our relatives’ questions about my involvement.
"Wait until you solve it," I told him. "You'll be the town hero."
"I guess."
"Unless the FBI get there first," I threw in, just to see his response.
"Yeah, what's their story?" Jord asked. "Maddox was tight-lipped about the whole thing."
"Really? What did he do when he was there?"
"Took a look around. He wanted to see the vault and examine the damage as well as some of the boxes. Didn't seem too concerned about the contents strewn all over but I can't be sure he didn't see something that captured his interest because Agent Farid was asking plenty of questions and distracting me. Maddox took the manager to one side to question him privately but the manager said he just asked a few basic questions. Maddox also wanted to read the witness statements before he took off. I haven't heard anything since."
"Didn't that seem strange to you?"
"Very, but I'm mostly relieved they didn't whip the case out from under me. While I might not look excited, I actually do want to work on this case."
"Didn't they even tell you why they weren't interested?"
"Nope. Just swooped right out again. I discussed it with my captain and he said if the Feds weren't concerned, leave them be and don't drop any hints that might pique their interest. Truth be told, I'm not sure I care. I could do with a good collar for this."
"Just because they didn't immediately take the case doesn't mean they don't know something." I couldn't ignore the persistent feeling Maddox and Farid didn't just turn up for a look-see no matter how "fun" a bank robbery might be.
"Yeah, that crossed my mind too but since they aren't sharing, I'm not begging for more information. They can help me or get lost so far as I'm concerned. I have plenty of witness statements and crime scene information to trudge through."
"Any clues yet?"
Jord rested back in his seat. "Didn't take you long to ask."
"It's a natural question. I was there. I want these people caught. They shot a cop and could have hurt a lot more innocent people."
"Yet they didn't. This was a tight, professional crew. Minimal aggravation, minimal time. They knew exactly what they were looking for, went directly for it, and got out of there."
That tallied with Charlie Sampson's assertion that the robbers sought something very specific. "Do you know what they took?" I asked.
"Stuff from the safety deposit boxes, although I'm not sure we'll ever know exactly what it might be. I expect some of the owners might be less than forthcoming with that information. The bank manager couldn't even tell us although he suffered a blow to the head so his memory might eventually recall something of interest."
"He suffered memory loss?" Charlie Sampson didn't look or sound injured or confused when he came to the agency.
"He was knocked unconscious and seemed a little confused and incoherent at the bank. I'll interview him again and see if he remembers anything new."
I contemplated whether or not to share my information with Jord. I wondered if it was good business practice. If Charlie wanted the police involved with the stolen item, he would have told them, but he didn't. He wanted the mystery item found quietly and discreetly. I suspected he used his injury as an excuse to avoid telling Jord anything. Yet, Jord was my brother and the detective assigned to this case. It made sense to cooperate with him, and not work secretly outside his view.
"Charlie Sampson hired us to find something," I told him.
Jord raised his eyebrows in unmasked surprise. "What does he want you to find?"
"We have no idea. He wouldn't tell us. We have no more information than you do. Maybe even less."
"And you took the case?"
"Solomon did."
Jord considered that. "Are you interested in sharing information?"
"I am."
"And Solomon?" Jord clarified.
"I'm sure he will see the benefits of working with MPD on this, although I have to ask you not to let Charlie know that you know he hired us. I have a feeling he doesn't want that kind of information floating around here."
"You think he has a problem with MPD?"
"No. I don't think he has a problem with you finding the robbers. All he wants is an item that was taken from the bank box returned."
"For himself or the owner?"
I straightened my back in surprise. That was something I didn't think of that added a whole, new dimension to the case. "I assumed for the owner but now that you mention it, he might want whatever it is for himself. Something he can reasonably claim was stolen and keep if it were found, especially if the owner won’t admit to possessing it. He claims not to know what's inside the boxes but now I'm not so sure."
Jord leaned forward and set his forearms on the desk, looking at me intently. "I'll tell you this, my main line of inquiry right now is: was someone at the bank in on the heist? And based on what you just told me, Charlie Sampson just shot to the top of my suspect list."