Page 132 of Roses in Summer

“Yeah, Mom?” My voice shakes, causing Lincoln to reach out and grab onto my fingers.

“I’m so happy you’re all safe.” She hiccups, a sob breaking her voice.

“Me too, Mom.”

49

Lincoln

“Thank you all for coming in.” Sergeant Maroaka spares each of us a look as he sits down across from Seraphina in a small conference room. “Detective Gregori let me know you had some information pertaining to the investigation?”

I feel Seraphina tremble beside me, and I grab her hand, giving her silent support as she clears her throat. On her other side, I see her mom reach over to do the same thing.

“I know Lincoln mentioned that black car and Mitch yesterday,” she starts, looking over to me as she speaks. I nod, encouraging her to continue. With a deep breath, she does just that. “I had a shift in the library this afternoon—Lincoln came with me. My supervisor, Dr. Harrington, asked me to man the front desk, and when I got there, there were three men speaking about the fire. I recognized one: Chris Kopicki. He’s one of Mitchell Abernathy’s friends, and I’ve known him since high school. He was speaking to two other men, and they mentioned someone named Guts in connection to the fire. I think Chris said, ‘He had one job and that he messed it up.’ And Chris had this weird upside-down skeleton tattoo with a rope.”

Sergeant Maroaka’s face turns from impassive to a deep frown, anger etched in his expression. “Did you get a look at anyone else in that conversation?”

She nods her head. “There was a tall man with dark hair and a goatee. I didn’t catch his name, but he seemed like a leader. And then there was another man—I think his name was Ajax.”

“Fucking shit.” Maroaka sighs. “Excuse my language. What did Ajax look like?”

“Uhm.” She swallows, looking at the table. “Maybe five-eight, lean, long blond hair. He, uhm, he saw me but made sure that Chris and the other guy didn’t.” Maroaka grunts as though he’s not surprised by the information. “He waited for me outside after Chris and the other guy left. He asked for me to deliver a message to you.”

“What did he say?”

“Red Sevens,” she whispers, as though she knows whatever the fuck that code means is going to give a debilitating blow.

Maroaka’s eyes close, and he shakes his head, cursing under his breath. “Ms. Gregori, do you think you would be able to pick the men you saw today from a photo lineup?”

“Chris, definitely. I believe I could identify the other two men as well.”

Maroaka nods and stands up, turning for the door and opening it before walking out. Seraphina looks at me, brow furrowed, as we wait a few short minutes for his return. I’m vaguely aware of the chattering of her parents beside her, but I choose to tune them out, instead focusing on the little thorn beside me.

“You okay?” I whisper, keeping my voice low.

“I don’t know,” she responds instantly, shaking her head at her words. “I feel like I’m in aLaw & Orderepisode.”

I don’t have a chance to answer; as soon as the words leave Seraphina’s lips, Maroaka walks in with a tall, pale woman dressed in a dark-gray suit. Her hair is pressed to her head in a tight bun, and she wears an apathetic look on her face. “Hello, Ms. Gregori, Mr. and Mrs. Gregori, Mr. Simmons. I’m Detective Porter. Sergeant Maroaka let me know that you might be able to help identify a few men for us today. Is that right?”

Seraphina nods beside me. “Hello, Detective. Yes, that’s right.”

“Great.” She smiles, pulling the chair Maroaka vacated and sitting down across from Seraphina. I’m going to hand you a folder with a dozen or so photos. Just look through them and see if anyone looks familiar to you.” Detective Porter pushes the folder forward, and Seraphina quickly flips it open to reveal a picture of a young guy with dark hair and a punchable face. Seraphina frowns at the image and pushes it to the left. She continues pushing photos to the left until she gets to a picture of a twenty-something-year-old man with a closely shaved head and dark-brown eyes. He’s staring from the picture with an intensity that makes me uncomfortable.

“This is Chris,” Seraphina whispers, pushing the photo to the right. “He looks different now, more like a typical college kid, and he has longer hair than in this photo. But it’s him.”

Detective Porter writes something in her notebook and nods encouragingly at Seraphina. “How about you look through the rest of those?”

Sera swallows but looks down, continuing the sorting. She starts to put one picture to the side when she pauses to take a second look. “I think this is the tall guy. I’m not one hundred percent because there’s no goatee, but it looks like him.” She stops at the next picture. “And this is that guy Ajax.”

Detective Porter snaps her head up and looks at Sergeant Maroaka at the mention of Ajax’s name, and if I didn’t know better, I’d assume they know him real fucking well.

“Thank you, Ms. Gregori,” Maroaka replies simply, ignoring Detective Porter’s questioning stare. “This information is invaluable. I can’t tell you much about an open investigation, but I can tell you Chris Kopicki, the man you identified, goes by the name of Fade. He’s a low-level member of the Hang Man Motorcycle Club. From what we understand, he is working his way up the ladder of the club. His uncle, Gunner, is the president of the club. The tall man you identified is Blaze, their enforcer.”

“Oh,” she breathes out, eyes wide.

“This is the same club taking responsibility for the psychic murders, is it not?” Maroaka turns to Mrs. Gregori and stares at her without confirming or denying her words. “I’ll take your silence as affirmation. I have two daughters who have come into this precinct in connection with the Hang Man Motorcycle Club. Tell me, Sergeant, what is your team doing to make sure my children are protected?”

“We are doing everything we can to ensure that all persons of interest are being watched and that all witnesses are safe.”

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