Intimate Relations, Rebecca Forster [best ereader for manga .txt] 📗

"Not necessarily. If Sam was hired virtually, why not Enver Cuca? A picture is all he'd need. Or one of those programs where they do imaging? Ask Lapinski. He'll know. He knows all that stuff," Cori said. "She could have sent a 3-D image, he paints from it, and sends this thing off for delivery."

"And she dies in a room upstairs in his studio? A bit of a coincidence," Finn said.

"Stranger things have happened."

"Not many," Finn answered. He took a minute, and then said, "So I think there's only one thing to do."

"Go talk to the Cucas again?"

"'Tis on the list, right after we secure a search warrant."

Finn's phone rang. He answered it and walked away. The call took no more than a minute.

"Hot date?" Cori asked as they made their way back through the house.

"Gretchen," Finn said.

"From Micks?"  Cori seemed impressed.

"One and the same," Finn answered.

"Nice," Cori said, giving her blessing.

"Thank you, Cori," Finn said. "I'm thinking so."

They got back in the car. Cori fixed her seat belt, adjusted her shoulder holster, and dropped her purse at her feet. Finn took the wheel and guided them back the way they'd come. Cori watched him. She would always love Finn O'Brien, had been in love with him for a time, but now she was happy to see him move on. She had Amber, and the baby, Tucker, and Thomas Lapinski waiting in the wings. Cori wished that one of these days Finn O'Brien would have that much happiness. But he wasn't going to have a chance to see if Gretchen the firefighter was going to be his princess. By the time they were almost back to the precinct, she called again. She was pulling double duty and would talk to him after her three day shift.

"There's only one thing left then," Cori said. "You're coming to dinner."

Finn laughed aloud.

"Sure a broken date does not make me a broken man, Cori."

"Nope, but Lapinski's coming. What say we pick his brain over a beer or two. I'd sure like to know who it was that hired good old Sam."

"Poor Thomas," Finn said. "Used and abused."

"And loving every minute of it."

20

Cori pushed the button on the side of the driver's seat and rode backward three inches. She rested one knee on the steering wheel and fiddled with her phone. She was back where she started, sitting in a car parked on the fancy driveway in front of Roxana Masha Novika's house. It was another perfect day, the view was still astounding, but it was morning and there was a snake of bumper-to-bumper cars on the freeway.

She had watched the gridlock for a while, and then kicked around the garbage cans again. Cori had tried the garage door hoping to get a closer look at the cars inside, but it was still locked. For a while she sat on the passenger side of her car, door open, legs splayed as she kept an eye on the road so she could see Finn coming. After it got hot, and Finn called to say the judge was dragging his feet on the warrant, Cori got behind the wheel once again and turned the air conditioning vents her way.

The night before hadn't been what she expected. Thomas was late, Amber tired, and the baby cranky. The fried chicken and mashed potatoes were reheated. Lapinski didn't have time to research the company that hired Sam. Cori and Finn were disappointed that they even had to ask him, but the LAPD resources were stretched so thin they would have to wait until the cows came home if they relied on their research department. With the hour late, the small group disbanded with weary good nights.

This morning she learned that the LAPD was restricted from using facial recognition software. Some group of do-gooders had sued claiming the software was culturally biased. It would be litigated for years in the courts, so Cori would rather have Lapinski take a look. If anything came of his poking around, then they'd worry about a lawsuit. Now, bored out of her mind, Cori sent the attorney a message:

Morning. I owe you another chicken dinner. Work your magic.

Tell me who this guy is.

She hit send and the video of Bev, Roxana, and the Asian man was in Lapinski's phone. Cori closed her eyes and counted her blessings. She and Finn had a lot to show for their work: victim ID, a video, a bloody dress in a bag, a patent pending intrigue, mention of an NDA, and knowledge that something was about to change the world after a tech reveal at the Asylum shindig. What she wouldn't give to know what that secret was and why Roxana was critical to it.

Just as Cori was drifting off, a small truck turned into the drive. Cori dropped her knee, sat up straight, and watched it park.  A young woman hopped out of the cab and slammed the door behind her. Cori got out of her car too.

"How's it going?" Cori said.

The woman gave the detective a chin tuck and a huge smile. She was the bittiest thing with the longest hair. It swayed all the way to her butt. Her eyes were huge and brown. She wore no make-up, had the body of a teenager, and the attitude of someone who had been around the block.

"Not bad," she said, unconcerned to see someone waiting in the driveway. "You?"

"Can't complain," Cori said.

She locked her car and as she did so her sweatshirt fell off one shoulder making her look like a sexy fairy.

"Have you been waiting long?" The girl slowed as she passed Cori, but didn't stop. Instead she did a little pirouette and ended up walking backwards.

"Awhile." Cori followed along.

"If I were you, I wouldn't hang around," the girl said. "Roxana hasn't been here for a while. I hope she didn't, you know, lead you on or anything."

"Does she do that to a lot of people?" Cori asked.

"Enough." The girl