Willing to Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)

Heart thudding in her chest, she hurried from the register as Collin reached for the pack of cigarettes.

It could all be innocent, she told herself. This little store wasn’t that far from the bus station, anyone could have wandered over here without following her. The guy in the sunglasses just needed a smoke.

“Yeah, right,” she whispered once outside, where the temperature seemed to have dropped another five degrees. She didn’t believe that rationale for an instant. Had he hidden in the shadows and watched her through the plate glass window of the diner, then tailed her to the market?

Or was she overreacting?

Either way, she couldn’t take a chance.

Chapter 10

Paterno stopped by Tanaka’s desk where she was chewing on the rim of her paper coffee cup as she worked at the computer. The cup was nearly shredded with her teeth marks. “Just got a call from Regan Pescoli,” he said. “She’s bringing Paul Latham’s sons in.”

“Both?”

“Turns out they’re both in the city. They’ll be here in half an hour.”

Her eyes narrowed. “It’ll be interesting to hear what they say and if they’ve heard from their sister.” Her lips pulled down at the corners. “I got information from the cell company on all their phones.”

“That was quick.”

“I know a guy,” she said cryptically, then didn’t elaborate. “We’re checking the numbers from the sons’ phones, but it’s been radio silence since that night for Ivy Wilde’s phone. I’m checking with the people she talked to in the days before the murder, but so far have struck out. Just friends who said everything was normal. Or as normal as it could be. Turns out Ivy was dealing with psychological problems.”

“Serious?”

“Not good, but if you’re asking if she’

s violent, I haven’t seen any evidence of that, and I spoke with Dr. Yates, who is Ivy’s psychiatrist. She couldn’t confirm anything, nor tell me much because of doctor/patient privilege and HIPPA, but I gleaned she hasn’t heard from her. She seemed concerned. She wouldn’t give me a diagnosis but said she seemed to think Ivy wasn’t capable of the violence one would need to commit murder, but even that was couched in all kind of cover-her-ass vernacular and there was a very big ‘don’t quote me’ attached to the sketchy information she provided.” They talked about Ivy’s friends, a couple of girls and one boy, none of whom had heard from her since before the murders. “One of the boys seemed concerned, but said that she’d been moody over the past few weeks, kept to herself.”

“He know why?”

“The boy I talked with—not a boyfriend, totally platonic—says so, and the girlfriends confirm. He said she was worried her mother was going to divorce her stepfather and though she didn’t like Paul, she wasn’t up for the upheaval of a divorce. She’d already been through that with her own parents. The girlfriends, though, think she’s been more upset with the breakup with her last boyfriend, Troy Boxer.”

“You talk to him yet?”

“No, but soon. He works for a shipping company.”

“That’s right. That’s what you said.” Paterno paused, thought about it. “A kid by the name of Boxer works delivering packages?”

She rolled her eyes. “I know. Life’s full of fun little ironies, isn’t it?”

“Let’s just solve this case.”

“Yes. Find and arrest the murderers and locate a missing, runaway, or kidnapped teen.” She actually smiled, then finished her coffee and tossed the cup into her trash bin. “Maybe we can wrap this up early.”

“Then you can go on a hot date.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice.”

“You need a life, Tanaka,” Paterno said, fully aware she spent her supposed downtime working cases or hanging around with her cat.

She rolled back her chair and gazed up at him. “Forgive me if I don’t get all hot and bothered at the image of being on a boat trolling off the coast of Mexico.”

“That’s because you’re forgetting the part of the fantasy that includes clear aquamarine water, the sun high overhead, a fishing pole in one hand, and a chilled margarita in the other.”

“Maybe you have a point,” she said. “But put that aside and let’s figure out who killed the Lathams.”

* * *