We rounded the corner and drove down a block of karaoke bars.
When the light turned red, we stopped.
I stared at a building built with multicolored blue bricks. A large sign topped it and read, “Hao Fortune Cookie Factory.” Several of the streetlights had posters announcing the Miss East Pageant.
The light shifted to green.
We headed toward several apartment buildings.
I considered something that had been bothering me, since we left my place. I turned to Dimitri. “Unfortunately, I think that the killer is in the Syndicate. Someone that’s directly under the top people.”
Dimitri spoke, “Someone that’s so close, Chanel would meet the person in the alley, Romeo would sit with them in a brothel, and Johnny would close his bakery down to hang with him.”
I studied Viktor as he watched us. “Perhaps, the person would be a sort of assistant to the different top members?”
“I’m considering that.” Dimitri nodded. “The suspect could be among all the top’s right-hands. The people next to the victims.”
Viktor shook his head. “There’s no way that could be possible. Gunner is damn near glued to Marcelo. Same for me with you.”
A grim expression covered his face. “We still haven’t found Nefertiti, but I can’t believe that she could kill Chanel.”
Dimitri’s chauffer stopped us in front of a towering church built in blue stone. A long line of people waited outside. It must have been over fifty people. Viktor climbed out of the car and held the door open. Dimitri left and stopped next to Viktor.
I didn’t move yet.
My stomach twisted. My heart boomed in my ears. It was a new day and it appeared that this killer was not calming down with these murders. I’d already seen a dead body for the first time yesterday. The only thing that had helped me not have nightmares was Dimitri’s masculine scented jacket.
I hope Lei and his father are still alive. Please, God. I don’t want to see anymore death.
Dimitri looked into the vehicle. “Ms. Walsh, you’ve aggravated the shit out of me to get inside information on the Syndicate, and now you’re hesitant?”
I thought I was writing about gangsters, not a serial killer.
Sighing, I grabbed my big purse full of my notes and left the Phantom.
A chilly wind breezed by. Dimitri frowned at my bare arms, took off his jacket, and then placed the designer fabric around my shoulders. I kept it on, knowing that if I tried to give it back he would complain. Also, I felt special having it on my shoulders.
How many times has Dimitri given his jacket to woman?
Three men rushed over to us with umbrellas. One held an umbrella for me. Two men kept their umbrellas over Dima as if terrified that a drop of rain would hit him.
And you don’t think you fit for pride? Really?
He eyed me. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Viktor took out his own umbrella.
We headed forward.
I watched the line of people. Some had taken off their jackets and covered their heads from the rain. “Do you know why they’re here?”
“This is one of the ten Syndicate’s food kitchens and shelters.”
“You have them all over Paradise?”
“And some outside of the city. This is the third one in the East where Leo used to be in control.”
Stunned, I found it hard to believe that a group of criminals would want to help out the city that they were trying to destroy.
Dimitri picked up the pace. “When Leo left the syndicate, he took full control of all our soup kitchens and shelters in the East.”
“Whose idea was it to have shelters in Paradise?”
“Our parents. They all had to stay in a shelter or stand in a free food line in their past. My mother was an immigrant when she arrived here with my uncles. So were Lei’s parents. And then Chanel’s family didn’t have much help in Paradise with the discrimination and hate in this country.”
My stomach twisted a little. I could feel myself being conflicted with how I was seeing the Syndicate. I wanted to be on the story to go after them, and now I was helping them stay alive. And Dimitri was opening up. And I wasn’t sure if it would be okay to betray his trust.
I cleared my throat. “And what about Marcelo?”
“Marcelo had it worse than all of us.”
“How?”
“Our parents loved us. They worked hard to give us a good life. Generational wealth was always their goal.”
“And Marcelo’s parents were different?”
“Chanel, Lei, and me inherited Paradise. Marcelo earned it on his own.”
We climbed the steps leading up to the church. People of all races and ages stood around. Most of them were adult males. Dirt smudged their faces. Rips and holes marred their clothes.
Four Asian men stood up by the door. They were dressed in bright blue suits. It was a stark difference to the green suits of the South.
I glanced at Dima and took in his clothes. “Marcelo’s people wear green. Here, it’s blue?”