One O'Clock Hustle: An Inspector Rebecca Mayfield Mystery (Rebecca Mayfield Mysteries Book 1) by Joanne Pence Page A

don't have anything ... much.”
    “You're lying to me!” she insisted.
    “I'm hiding nothing! Okay? Nothing.” He all but snarled at her, then turned away with a shake of his head. “You're so damn suspicious!” He went back to brooding.
    “You came back here for a reason. What was it?”
    He rubbed his forehead. “That's not important anymore. It's all changed.”
    Just then, his phone rang.
    He mostly listened, only saying a word or two. When he hung up, he stood and faced Rebecca. “Nobody seems to know where Danny Pasternak is.”
    She stared up at him, not moving. “How do you know that?”
    “Vito tried to find him, and couldn't. I'm not surprised the cops couldn't find him, but Vito should have been able to. Something's wrong, Rebecca. I wonder if something happened to Danny.”
    She stood facing him, the handcuffs keeping them much too close together. “We'll have to find out.”
    “Shay found a place on Telegraph Hill that might have some answers,” he said. “Let's get out of here.”
    “One minute while I call the Crime Scene techs,” she said. “I want them to dust your house for prints or any indication of who might have broken in here.”
    “No.”
    “No?”
    “The guys who do this sort of thing are pros. They don't leave prints. All you'll get are a bunch of prints from people who the law might have some interest in for a variety of reasons, but don't want to harm me. I won't allow it.”
    She wanted to argue with him, but even more important was to find out those “answers” he referred to on Telegraph Hill.
    “What if I just take the bowl that had the rice in it,” she said. “Testing it will tell us a lot, or nothing.”
    He nodded. “You're wasting your time, but I don't care. Fine, do it.”
    They returned to the kitchen. She placed the bowl in a zip-lock bag, then they left the house.
    Never in her life had she associated with anyone who seemed so much like he should be guilty, yet still caused her to believe in his innocence.
    She wasn't sure why she believed him, but she would stake her life on it. And considering that she had let him drag her into a house that could have been blown to kingdom come, she already had.

 
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
    Richie gripped Rebecca's hand and then draped over their joined hands and handcuffs a dark blue pullover sweater he had picked up at his house. “That works,” he said.
    “That looks dumb. Nobody carries a sweater that way,” she protested.
    “Yeah, it's weird, but it's better than letting anyone see the cuffs. It looks less strange if we stand close together.”
    “Terrific.” The word was a sneer.
    He kept her close as they walked up to the doorman of a high-rise apartment on the east side of Telegraph Hill near the waterfront. Richie's friends had found Danny's goomar's apartment, and they were there to talk to her.
    “We're here to see Miss Fontana,” Richie said. “Vito Grazioso and friend.”
    “I'll let her know some guests have arrived.” The doorman picked up the phone and spoke softly, then faced them. “Twentieth floor, apartment twenty-o-one.”
    Richie paled. His mouth opened then closed, and finally he whisked her over to a corner and said quietly, “Let's forget it.”
    Why? she wondered. Then she smirked. “You're afraid of heights.”
    His gaze shifted from the doorman, to the elevator, to her. “Of course I'm not! But what's wrong with Danny's woman? She think she's an eagle up there?” He stuck his free hand in his pocket and pouted. “Hell, I might get a nose bleed.”
    She couldn't help but smile. If she hadn't seen it, she wouldn't have believed it. “I'll hold your nostrils shut if that happens,” she said. On occasion, this morning, she would have been tempted to hold his mouth shut at the same time, but not now. Actually, the supposed tough guy's fear of heights was kind of cute. As soon as she thought that, she shuddered, and told herself to forget it. “Cute” was the last thing she wanted