The Penitent One (Boston Crime Thriller Book 3), Brian Shea [best non fiction books of all time .TXT] 📗

reporters and prepared himself for the upcoming briefing, looking down at the notecards resting on the slanted wood of the podium.

Mainelli whispered in his ear, "Jeez, Mikey, he looks pissed."

"Strange. I thought he looked quite happy to see me. Maybe it's you?"

Barnes, positioned between them, jabbed each of them in a subtle gesture reminding them to shut up and prepare for the cameras.

Agent Sterling Gray stood nearby, close but not too close to the four-man detective unit assigned to handle this homicide. Gray was an integral part of this briefing, and Kelly knew it. The FBI needed to be seen with them, but at this point, after only the brief introduction minutes ago, there wasn’t any kinship. Kelly noted Gray did his best to present himself as if he were a member of the team: chin held high, body straight, posture rigid as if standing at attention. To Kelly, Gray looked like a prep-school boy preparing to meet with the headmaster.

All were wearing a shirt and tie, except for Barnes, who’d changed into a blouse. Sterling Gray was a notch above with his navy-blue sports coat. Kelly had thrown on his blazer, the same one he’d worn earlier while working the scene. His Boston PD emblem was visible, but his badge remained tucked in. No need to display his shield in the room full of reporters. Mainelli looked as though his shirt and tie had been pulled out from a crumpled heap in his locker, because it had been. Looking back at his disheveled coworker, Kelly noticed a yellowish stain, most likely mustard, prominently centered on the silk paisley design.

"You might want to stand behind me a little bit," Kelly said to Mainelli, poking his finger on the stain.

The heavyset Italian detective began his innate resistance to suggestion, until he looked down to see the blotch. Mainelli dipped in behind Barnes, using her to block his unkempt appearance.

Lieutenant Jack Rosario, the department's brand-new public affairs officer, or PAO, stepped in front of the superintendent and adjusted the microphone, causing an awkward squelching sound. He, too, was clean-cut, well-groomed, and in full dress attire. Under normal circumstances, Rosario would be giving the daily briefing, but as this was a much higher-profile case than normal, the superintendent would take the lead. Politics in policing.

"The briefing will begin shortly," he announced. "Please take your seats and set your cell phones to silent if you haven't done so already. For those who don’t know me, I’m Lieutenant Rosario and have recently been appointed as Boston PD’s PAO. I will remain your point of contact within the department, but today’s briefing will be handled by Superintendent Juan Carlos Acevedo. We will begin shortly with the superintendent's remarks. Please hold all questions until the end. We will not get to all of your questions, but hopefully by the time this briefing is over, we'll have given you everything that we have at this time.

"I want to remind you that this is an active investigation and the things we say now may dynamically change in the hours and days to come. Please bear in mind the information we will provide tonight will be an overview of what we have thus far, and there will be no information as to the particulars of the case. This is done to keep from compromising the ongoing investigation being conducted by these fine detectives behind me here. Without further ado, may I introduce Superintendent Juan Carlos Acevedo."

The lieutenant stepped down from the platform and onto the maroon carpeting. He backed away and stood next to an American flag posted near the rear wall.

Kelly and his team, coupled with Sterling Gray, were staggered to the superintendent’s left. Kelly was doing his best to keep his head slightly down and out of the line of cameras. There was no telling whose image would make the front page of the local papers, and he wanted to minimize the likelihood of his face being plastered beside an unflattering headline. Kelly wouldn’t be one of those cops with a box full of clippings when he retired. He hoped when the day came to turn in his badge, his memory of the awful things he had witnessed during his career would go with it. Doubtful, he knew.

He tried to tuck himself away, wedging between Sutherland’s girth and Barnes’s slender frame. Kelly felt his hand brush against hers. The contact jolted him, instantly transporting him away. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold her hand. Although they spent copious amounts of time together on the job, it was not the kind of quality time either hoped for. Being in her presence on a near constant basis left him longing for the private time they rarely got, whether due to her schedule or his, his time with Embry, or just the daunting caseload they continually worked.

So Kelly took these unexpected moments of contact, brief and benign, and made them his escape to normalcy.

Since the budding of their relationship, it had been quite difficult to create a normal most people would have accepted. He took this opportunity—the brief glancing touch of his pinky finger against her hand—as a moment of connectedness to her on a personal level, even though it was under professional circumstances. He wondered if she felt the same. He hoped so. Maybe if time permitted, tonight he would ask her.

The superintendent’s clear, perfectly enunciated voice interrupted Kelly’s thought process, taking him back to the here and now and away from his momentary slip from his investigator role.

"Good evening. As the lieutenant said, I'm Superintendent Acevedo, head of the Bureau of Investigative Affairs, and I'll be handling tonight's briefing. As many of you know, this morning we had a tragic incident occur in our Dorchester neighborhood. Father Benjamin Tomlin, who worked at Saint Peter's Catholic Church on Bowdoin Street, was shot and killed shortly after Mass.

"As of now, we are actively investigating the case. Any leads and information generated at this point will be held