Page 41 of Sinful Reality

“It would be handy if they had a history of child abuse, sexual assault, mental health concerns, and an addiction to cleaning with methylated spirits.”

Now he rolls his eyes. I just know it. “I’m on it, Min. Rest up, and I’ll call you later.”

“Mmhm.” She doesn’t say goodbye. She merely taps her screen and kills the call, then she drops the phone to the counter and folds in on herself, too tired to hold her own weight. “I don’t wanna hear about the Min thing.”

“Sure thing,Min.” I flash a playful smile when she brings fiery eyes up. But I meander closer and lean against the counter, too, if only so I can scoop my arm across her back and pin her to my side to save her from standing all on her own. “Sounds like he found that haystack we were searching for. Now we gotta find a needle and figure out what the fuck it represents.”

“Sounds like he’s found abunchof haystacks,” Aubree grumbles. “None of which are appropriately labeled, all of which are messy, and very few are likely to help.”

“I wanna call the witness.” Blinking slowly, Minka turns to her phone again. “The one from the park.”

“The fruit stall lady?” Sneakily, while Minka’s back is turned, Aubree selects a bone from the pile on her table and places it in the deer mound. “Gloria something.”

“No. I wanna call her, too. But can’t until she’s done with her appointment. For now, I want to call the other one. The coffee cart lady.”

“Justine? The one who served Janiesa’s mom?” Again, Aubree selects a bone from the pile and uses Minka’s distraction to sort it. “You wrote that one down somewhere.”

“On a Post-it at home.” Sighing, she stares at her phone like it could somehow conjure the information she needs. “But not that one. The other one. Beatrice, something? She was around for Diane’s disappearance.” A long yawn wracks her frame and holds her captive, tearsspringing from the corners of her eyes. She blinks them away and smacks her lips, then she goes to her call log and selects a name that makes me break out in a cold sweat every damn time I see it. “I’m calling Soph.”

“For fuck’s sake.” I drop my head back and stare up at the ceiling, dread coiling in my belly and the threat of favors owed like a brand on my leg. “I’d prefer you called Paxton.”

“Hush.” She sets the call on speaker and waits only a beat for the line to connect. “Soph?”

“I’d say something pithy about how you’re making an annoying habit of this, but I know you’re working the New York thing, so I’ll allow it. What do you need?”

“Beatrice someone. The… um…” She gestures with her hand, rolling her wrist and achieving absolutely nothing for her efforts. “Beatrice?”

“Uh…” Sophia clears her throat. “I’m good, Doc, but I can’t pull miracles out of my asshole. Help me out.”

“Beatrice served coffee back in ‘98,” Aubree offers. “She’s on record somewhere. Made a statement back then, and contacted the NYPD again when Janiesa was snatched. Her full name is in the files, but we don’t have access to those right now.”

“Cool,” Sophia unhappily drawls. “Another doctor comfortable enough to ask me for things.” And yet, she taps at her computer. “You sound like shit, Mayet. You eat a chainsaw for lunch?”

“She’s sick,” I insert. “A medical miracle, really, considering she’s actually clinically dead at this point, and still, on her feet. Your husband ever wanna throttle you because you’re too fucking mulish to admit you need a break?”

“My husband wouldn’t be so stupid.”Tap, tap, tap. “Beatrice Mackenzie. She stopped working in ‘08. Her husband is retired FDNY, and her kids are adults now. She has three grandbabies and a nice garden a little ways out of the city. She has a granddaughter just a little younger than the target for these cases, which is probably why she checked in with Gilbert the second Janiesa hit the news.”

“Yeah.” Minka dips her chin in a slow nod. “That one. Can you send me her number?”

“Detective Gilbert know you’re about to sully his witness?”

“I was talking to Detective Gilbert a minute before you. He said I can make contact, so long as I introduce myself, explain my interest in the case, and keep everything legitimate for the courts.”

“He said you could call Gloria Donohue,” she counters smugly, knowing too much, as always. “No one mentioned speaking to Beatrice. But who am I to step in the way of justice?” She taps again, while right beside me, Minka’s phone vibrates. “Sent her number. I got these amazing, extra strength pills I can send over if you want. They’re like a shot of vitamins and minerals and pain relief and insta-feel-better, all wrapped up in one gel pack. They’re non-drowsy, added caffeine for a pick-me-up, they’ll march through your body like tiny little soldiers and annihilate every bad germ currently holding you hostage. Then you’ll sleep like a baby once they wear off. Tomorrow, you’ll wake up feeling like a million bucks.”

“FDA approved?” I question seriously. “Which labs created this drug, Solomon?”

“Mylab.Mychemist. I don’t share with the government, and I haven’t been sick in years. But you do you, Detective. Is that all?”

“That’s all.” Minka licks her lips and swallows—she’s like the sloth in that kid movie Mia loves to watch—but then she nods and hovers her thumb over the red button that’ll end their call. “But since you’re so smart and all that, do you have anything to add to the New York case? Why haven’t you solved it yet?”

She scoffs. “I’m not a cop, it’s not my case, and believe it or not, but I don’t shit rainbows and answers on demand. I need to puzzle these things out like everyone else, and to this point, I haven’t figured it out.”

“So she doesn’t knoweverything,” Aubree murmurs. “Interesting.”

“I have my own workload,” Soph grumbles. “And a billion things fighting for the top spot. But New York is sitting there, too. I give it some thought when I have a second. What’ve you figured out so far?”

“Did you hear my entire conversation with Detective Gilbert?”

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