Page 133 of Roses in Summer

“Forgive me for saying so, Sergeant, but I doubt that very much.”

I watch as Mrs. Gregori and Maroaka volley back and forth, trading words until finally, Maroaka concedes. “Mrs. Gregori, we have inside information and boots on the ground to protect our witnesses. The arson attempt was dealt with swiftly and effectively. You have my promise and my word that we are doing everything we can to gather evidence and close this investigation— What the hell is she doing here?”

We all turn to the window that captured Maroaka’s attention, looking just in time to see Bianca striding through the precinct, a box of donuts in her hand. Rafe follows behind her, shaking his head as she enters the conference room. “Hi, everyone.” She sounds too upbeat, her voice forced and grating. “I heard you were here, so I brought donuts.”

“B, go sit down,” Rafe instructs, voice tired. Bianca rolls her eyes but sits in the chair closest to her. “Sergeant Maroaka.” Rafe nods before turning to us. “Mom, Dad, Ser, Linc.”

“What are you doing here?” Maroaka seethes, eyes on Bianca’s profile.

“Bianca was pushed while exiting the building yesterday. We all dismissed it, assuming that the push was a result of hysteria amongst the residents of the building. Something didn’t sit right with me, and I had IT look over the camera footage. They called an hour ago and sent me a clip from the external security cameras. Can I?” Rafe points to the television mounted on the wall, and I belatedly realize it’s a computer monitor, not a TV. Maroaka nods, and Rafe grabs the keyboard and mouse to sign in and pull up the footage.

A black-and-white video of the entrance of the building flashes on the screen, and soon, people start running out, the panic evident in their quick movements. I have no idea what I’m looking at until the domino effect of a fall erupts on the monitor. Rafe pauses the footage and rewinds, zooming in and replaying the moments before two women—Bianca and Seraphina—fall forward to their hands and knees. I watch the replay closely, staring just behind Bianca at a man concealed in a dark ball cap. We watch in silence as the man behind Bianca reaches out his hand and pushes Bianca’s shoulder, jolting her forward onto Seraphina and causing both women to fall down.

I grit my teeth at the display, ready to kill the motherfucker who almost had my woman and her sister trampled. They would have been stepped on and stepped over had a man in a police uniform not sprung from the side, helping both women up.

“I told you I was pushed,” Bianca whispers, playing with the hem of her sleeve. Maroaka grunts in response, looking away from her.

“How did the police get to the building so quickly?” Mr. Gregori asks, surprising me with his question. I look from him to Maroaka, noting his rigid posture. “You have an informant, don’t you? Were you aware of the arson attempt before it happened?”

“You may be a trusted prosecutor—and the father to one of my best officers—but make no mistake, Mr. Gregori, we are dealing with an active police investigation, and I will have no one interfere with that.”

“So not in advance, but you had a tip.” His voice holds an accusatory bite. “So, while my daughters and two hundred other people in that complex were at risk, you all played God?”

“Dad,” Rafe warns, though his tone doesn’t hold censure. Maroaka holds up a hand, silencing him.

“There was no ‘playing God.’ We dispatched first responders as soon as we were aware of the threat. I thank you to not make any additional asinine accusations about the integrity of this police force. Now”—he pauses, looking back at Bianca and then Seraphina—“both Ms. Gregoris are free to go. I thank—”

“Wait,” Seraphina calls out, cutting Maroaka off. “Rafe, can you zoom in more on that arm?”

“Yeah, give me a second.” Rafe plays with the keyboard, zooming in on the assailant’s arm.

“Oh my god,” Seraphina breathes out.

“Ms. Gregori?”

She points to the screen. “Do you see that bracelet on the wrist? It’s custom gold cable chain with two lions devouring a snake. It was made to symbolize strength and force.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because Mitch and Chris each have one.”

50

Seraphina

All eyes move to me, Lincoln’s fury flames in his green irises, while Maroaka’s hold a gleam of satisfaction, one that causes shivers to run down my spine.

“Detective Porter, please get the camera. Ms. Gregori, are you comfortable providing a recorded witness statement?”

“I—uh,” I stumble, furrowing my brows before looking at my parents while the detective leaves the room. My dad narrows his eyes on Maroaka, his face transforming to contemplative.

“What are you looking to gain from this, Sergeant?”

“With all due respect, Mr. Gregori, I’m looking to uphold the law. If that’s an issue for you, I recommend leaving this precinct and getting your priorities together. Now, I’ll ask Ms. Gregori again, are you willing to fill a witness statement to walk us through the events the night of the fire, and any details of Mitchell Abernathy and Christopher Kopicki that seem pertinent to this investigation.”

I look to my dad again and wait until I see his nod before answering. “Yes, I can do that.”

“Should I be offended that I’m not being asked for a statement?” Bianca asks, a note of dejection in her voice.

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