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Stacy parked at the intersection of Mabel Court and Fulton Road. She had already circled the block on West 31st Place, making sure she could identify the condo that belonged to Maria Fernandez.
The description Chad Means and Charlie Harris had given them about the condo was correct. Stacy pulled her Camry to the intersection so Maria couldn’t see her approaching on foot or get suspicious if she saw a strange car on the block. Austin’s navy blue Honda Accord was already parked at the end of the street.
The rain had steadily fallen since she’d left her loft. Outside, the darkening sky roiled under the tumbling gray clouds, smoky and silver. The watery white-silver glow of moonlight made the puddles of water gathering on the uneven pavement and chipped concrete sidewalks glisten.
Austin emerged from his car with an umbrella arched over his head. He pushed forward in the rain with the tip of the umbrella pointed toward the Camry. His gray suit was sprinkled with drops of rain, and the cuffs on his pants had a dark ring of water circling them.
He closed the umbrella and paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before pulling open the door handle and falling inside.
“I’m damn near soaked,” he said, tossing the wadded and wet umbrella onto the floorboard.
It was awkward small talk from her partner. In most cases, she and Austin would pick up a conversation mid-stream, no matter how much time had passed or what had transpired since their last conversation. This time was different, and Stacy knew why.
“Austin, listen, I wanted to apologize again for what I said at Fairview about multitasking and giving the impression that I didn’t think—”
“It’s fine. Really. This case is testing all of us.”
Austin pursed his lips and looked out the window. The cold rain laced the windowpane.
“I don’t want you to resent me for what I said or what I might have meant.”
Austin looked over at Stacy. His features were neat and smooth beneath his Latin skin. He stared, wide-eyed, into the sliver of darkness, where the moonlight and streetlight overhead had not punctured it.
“It’s fine,” he said, the taut tone of his voice matching the intensity of his gaze, “but this is the last time I’ll be talked to like that. You’re the senior detective, but I was embarrassed in front of my colleagues and Dr. Myers. I am your partner, not some rookie flatfoot patrolman who is trying to dry the wetness behind his ears. I won’t be spoken to like that again. If it happens again, I’m giving my transfer papers to Diana. And I’m telling her and everyone else why I’m doing it. Understood?”
Stacy licked her lips and looked ahead. She wondered if Austin had already filled out a transfer request and was holding onto it.
“Understood. Again, I’m sorry. In addition to not being able to find Colton DeVito, the only thing I’ve managed to accomplish over the last few days is to push everyone away, including Chance, my mother, Gavin, Diana, and now you.”
Austin snapped his head back toward Stacy. “What about Diana?”
Stacy took a moment to explain to him the conversation she’d had with Diana about her unapproved interrogation of Brandon Deerfield and the fact he died under suspicious circumstances. Austin set his jaw as he listened, smoothing his wet and wrinkled tie with one hand when the details were grim.
“Austin,” Stacy said, putting a hand on his arm. “Diana thinks I’m in big trouble, and so does Gavin.” Her partner winced at hearing his name. “Am I?”
Austin remained silent.
“I think I might be too,” she added. “I don’t want this to affect you in any way. There’s still time to put some distance between us. I know you have ten years left and that you’re fully vested in your pension. I don’t want something I did to jeopardize that.”
Austin held up a hand, his thick fingers halving his face. “We will cross the bridge when we get to it. If we get to it.” He tilted his head and smirked. “Right now, let’s make a house call.”
They got out of the car and walked up Mabel Court. Stacy crouched under Austin’s umbrella as the rain continued to beat down on them. To the left, Stacy could see the outline of Fairview Park, which had become more silver between the shadows of moonlight. To Stacy, it seemed like the edge of the park was yawning.
They crossed the street until they were facing the condo. A light beamed from a second-floor window. Although the misty haze created by the falling rain appeared to fracture the light, the front porch light was also on.
By the time they reached the front door, Stacy felt the black jacket of her pantsuit dripping with water, the heels of her boots sticky with mud. Austin’s suit was wrinkled, and his purple and maroon striped tie looked limp and frail.
Austin pulled down the umbrella and nodded at Stacy to begin.
Stacy rang the doorbell. The chime was short and high-pitched. She stepped back and looked down at the ambient light shining under the base of the door. She wanted to see if there were any shadows to darken the streak, an indication that someone was near the door but might be choosing not to answer.
Stacy rang the doorbell again. Austin leaned in and banged his fist on the door. The door sagged a bit in the frame.
“Maria Fernandez, Cleveland Police. We’d like to talk with you.”
They both held their breath and waited. When nothing happened, Austin swung a look over at Stacy. “I’ll go around back.”
At that moment, the lock on the door clicked, followed by the heavy thud of the deadbolt being turned. The door opened slightly, and Stacy could make out the beady eyes and long dark hair of Maria Fernandez.
“Is there a problem?” she asked, her voice more high-pitched than Stacy had expected.
“There is,” Austin said. “May we come in, please?”
The emphasis put on the last word indicated it was more of a command than a request.
Maria slowly pulled the door back and slid around it to fill the space. She wore a black sweatshirt and faded jeans with white socks that made her feet shine white against the floor. Her thin, straight hair hung just below her shoulders. Stacy noticed the split ends were still wet, indicating that Maria was either in the shower or had been doing something to her hair.
“I’m Lieutenant Tavitt, and this is Sergeant Cerrera with the Homicide Division.” Stacy removed her police shield from her belt and showed it to Maria. “We’re here to talk about Colton DeVito.”
A cold shiver came over Stacy. She wanted to get the information she needed and get inside someplace where it was warm.
Maria blinked. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”
Stacy slammed her hand on the door face. Maria leaned back, her eyes widening as she glowered at Stacy.
“We aren’t going to play that game tonight. We arrested Will Akers yesterday. My partner and I have been watching him make several cash withdrawals from a Wells Fargo ATM on Euclid Avenue downtown. The withdrawals are coming from a bank account connected to Colton DeVito, the lead suspect in a murder who is now missing. When we questioned Mr. Akers, he claimed that he got the card from you, and in exchange for his cooperation, you generously gave him a little snack money for his efforts.” Stacy pressed her lips flat against her face and slowly cocked her head to the side. “That story seem familiar? And think very carefully before you answer, Ms. Fernandez.”
Maria gave Austin a worried glance, ignoring Stacy completely. “Colton is missing?”
Stacy and Austin exchanged glances. “Yes. He’s been missing for a few days now. A cab driver claims that he picked up Mr. DeVito from this location on Sunday—four nights ago. Know anything about that?”
Maria shook her head. “No. I mean, Colton was here. He came to visit me from Houston after we had been talking online for a long time. Then he decided to meet me. He told me he was from Cleveland, and he had family here, so I said yes.”
Stacy leaned a little closer, wanting to keep Maria talking. “How was the first date?”
Maria narrowed her dark eyes, partly out of frustration and annoyance at the question. “We, or I, decided that it would be better if we were just friends. He didn’t take it well.” Maria leaned to her left and looked out into the rain-filled night. “He got mad and took off in the direction of the park. I haven’t seen him since.” Maria continued to stare at them, wild-eyed. “Colton dropped his debit card when he left. I found it on the sidewalk. I told him I had it, and he told me that I could use it if I needed anything.”
Austin raised his eyebrows. “He did? Why would someone who got burned by a girl he liked permit them to use his debit card?”
Stacy watched as Maria’s eyes became hard-rimmed and fixed. She was getting ready to answer, but Stacy wanted to see if she was making up the story as she went.
Maria looked down and twirled a lock of hair with two fingers. “Detectives, I am guilty of something.”
Austin took out his pocket notepad, which remained surprisingly dry, and began writing. “What would you be guilty of, Ms. Fernandez?”
“Of being a user,” she said, the words bursting out hard and fast. “I used Colton. When I realized that he liked me, I took advantage of it. I asked him to buy me things.”
Stacy interjected. “What types of things?”
“Nice things. Clothes. Jewelry. Whatever I wanted. Colton didn’t care. When I asked him where he was getting the money, he said to not worry about it, that his parents would put more money in his account if he asked them to.”
Austin stopped writing and pursed his lips. Stacy also made a mental note of her answer. That information answered one lingering question: George and Monica DeVito had been making deposits into Colton’s bank account. But did they know some of it was for Maria?
“So, Colton said to just hang onto his card and gave you permission to use it?”
Her arched eyebrows drew lower. “Yes. I have proof.” Before Stacy could say anything, Maria turned and called back. “I’ll prove it.” She slinked away into the hallway.
“What do you think?” Austin whispered.
“She stinks, and she’s involved deeper than she’s letting on.”
Maria returned and held her iPhone flat in the palm of her hand. “He and I have been text messaging each other.”
She almost smiled as Stacy took the phone from her hand. There were several text messages date and time-stamped from the last two days. Stacy felt her brain stutter a bit as she tried to absorb the news.
“Show me the messages where Colton said it was okay to use his bank card.”
Maria took the phone back and ran her finger across the screen. The light from the screen highlighted her unblemished skin and sharp jaw, which she set hard as she scrolled.
“Here.”
Stacy took the phone back and read the messages.
Austin eyed the screen. “Houston PD told me there was no phone or computer found in Colton’s apartment.”
“Circumstances have changed.”
Stacy whipped the phone over in front of Austin, and he wrote down the telephone numbers. He took a moment to review the messages.
“Even though you had permission to use the card, Ms. Fernandez, no permission was given to Will Akers to use the card. Mr. Akers posing as Colton is bank fraud, and that makes you an accomplice.”
Maria looked pensive and sagged a little in the shoulders. “Will is a friend of mine, Detective. I wouldn’t have given Colton’s card to someone I didn’t trust.”
Austin met her gaze. “Ms. Fernandez, is Colton a boyfriend?”
Maria chewed on her lip. “I guess. More or less.”
Austin made a face and pointed at the door with the tip of his pen. “Is he in there, Ms. Fernandez? He’s in some trouble, and it would be better if he came out and talked to us right now.”
Stacy observed a twitch in Maria’s mouth, and her eyes grow soft. “Listen to my partner, Ms. Fernandez. If you care about Colton at all, tell him to come and talk to us.”
Maria kept chewing on her lip. Stacy wondered if she would bite it off. Sensing some confusion about what to do, Stacy added another layer to the request.
Stacy pushed her wet hair behind her ears. “Ms. Fernandez, tell Colton that Brooke Crawford is dead. She was found butchered in her bedroom on Sunday night, the same night he came to see you.”
Austin stiffened beside Stacy. She knew he understood the tact she was taking with Maria.
“Also, his mother and father were killed in a house fire, and that foul play is suspected. The taxi driver that picked him up the night he disappeared was found yesterday—dead and dismembered.”
At hearing that word, Maria’s skin went sallow. Stacy had struck something inside the girl that got her attention.
“And what I mean by dismembered is that we found pieces of him in the trunk of his cab, and we are still looking for the rest of him.”
“Please,” she interjected. “No more.” She pressed her fingers over her lips, and her skin paled. “That’s disgusting.”
Stacy leaned closer to Maria until she was inches away from her face. “Colton might be acting alone, but I don’t think so. If Colton is involved in something, it’s bad, and it’s nasty. If somehow you are involved as well, you might be the next victim.”
Maria began to sweat. She let out a tight breath and looked at Stacy and Austin before eyeing the gap in the door.
“I need to get one more thing,” she said.
Austin nodded. “Make it fast.”
Stacy watched her disappear into the lighted gap between the door and the frame. When suspects were often defiant in routine questioning, sometimes blunt, honest statements about the situation they were in served as a way of heightening the reality. Stacy hoped what she had said struck a nerve with Maria and that she would contact Colton or bring him to the door.
They waited a moment, and suddenly the door closed. Behind them, the falling rain had slowed to a light mist, but the air now had a biting chill that made Stacy shiver harder. Stacy and Austin exchanged a glance as the heavy churn of the lock clicked into place.
“Hey,” Austin said, reaching down to jiggle the door handle. “It’s locked.”
“Shit.” Stacy pounded on the door. “Maria!”
A second passed. Stacy looked over at her partner.
“Let me go around back.”
At that moment, something stirred in the rain-soaked air behind them. Stacy could feel the whir of wind and something wheeze past her.
As she turned her head toward Austin, the porch column near the wall exploded into a dusty, blurred mess.