Page 39 of Sinner's Secret

“If it’s Nika’s,” Baz said. “She might not have been conscious when they took her out of here.”

No one said anything to that.

“Any security footage from neighboring houses or businesses?” Baz asked.

“We’re in the process of canvassing the neighborhood for that.”

“Well?” Thomas asked. “Any insights?”

The way he asked the question made it clear that he didn’t think Baz would have anything to contribute.

What a dick.

“This was a professional job. They brought enough people to overpower an armed cop and took the bodies of their dead with them.”

“If they were professionals, why didn’t they take the carpet too?” Thomas asked.

“The blood was left as a warning.” And possibly a lure for him, but they didn’t need to know that. “The dead will likely end up being career criminals.” He glanced at Thomas. “How did you put it earlier? A couple of lowlife thugs. Bottom rung, throwaway guys who won’t lead to anyone important.”

“So, this is a message?” Smith asked. “A message to who?”

“The police,” Baz said. “The message is: stay out of our business or none of you are safe.”

“We can’t do that,” Smith said. “We won’t do that.”

“I know,” Baz said looking around at all the blood again. “Whoever did this must be from out of town.”

“Like Russia?” Thomas asked, looking pleased with himself.

Baz rolled his eyes. “No, the crime bosses are the police in Russia. I’m thinking it’s most likely someone from South America or South Africa.” He nodded to himself. “Look for a corporation, organization, or group from those parts of the world that have come to New York in the last couple of years.”

“That’s not going to be a short list.”

“The group has to be big enough to launder money, but also look legit.”

“We don’t have time for all that,” Thomas said.

“I thought you wanted to catch the bad guys using legal means. You want to stay above board and find Nika? This is where you start.”

“We do want that,” Smith said, frowning at the lieutenant. “We’ll look into it, ASAP.”

“What are you going to be doing?” Thomas pressed.

“You’re a nosy fucker,” Baz replied, staring at him.

They kept staring at each other until Thomas dropped his gaze.

“I’ll be driving my cab.” He headed for the door and paused before he left. “Smith, I’ll stay in contact with you.”

Thomas opened his big mouth again, but Baz had heard enough from him to last him a decade. “I wouldn’t call you if I was drowning in the East River.”

Someone laughed, but Baz didn’t stay to figure out who. He got in his car and texted his cousin, telling him he had new information and that he wanted to meet up at Joe’s Pub within the hour.

It’s too early.

You’re not going to melt.

The sun is still out. I’ll get itchy, I hate itchy.

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