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

tablet was a shiny, silhouette decal of a naked woman, the kind of thing you'd see on a trucker's mud flap. Roxana Masha Novika was about to start talking.

22

"My eyes are going to fall out of my head if I have to stare at this computer screen one more second, O'Brien."

Cori threw herself back in her chair, stuck her legs out in front of her, and let her arms dangle by her sides. Her head lolled, her eyes closed. When no sympathy was forthcoming, she opened one eye. Finn hadn't heard a word, so intent was he on his own research.

"Lot of fun you are." Cori pushed herself upright, picked up her mug, and saw that it was empty. "Want me to bring you back some coffee?"

"What?" Finn spoke but it took him a second to tear his eyes away from his screen. "I'm sorry. I'm getting nowhere with this. That corporation on Roxana's contract has ten different iterations in as many countries. It's a circle I can't close. We're going to need to go back to the cybercrime folks."

"We'll be lucky to get in the queue a year from now." Cori picked up his mug and held both in one hand as she perched on the side of his desk. "What about Lapinski?"

"He's got his own work," Finn said. "Besides, it's a fine line asking him to be so deeply involved. You've already sent him the video."

"It's no different than getting a statement from a witness, place of employment, blah, blah, blah," Cori said.

"Except that we've provided him evidence."

"A video recorded by a Ring doorbell that he could have gotten the same way I did?" Cori rolled her eyes.

"All I'm saying is we need to be cognizant, Cori," Finn said. "And wouldn't the contents of that computer be just a bit over the line?"

"I wasn't going to give him free rein. Just a few tidbits. Geeze." She chuckled. There was no mistaking her weariness for the job or her fondness for the subject that was Thomas Lapinski. "But it would be cool if we could pull him in on this fulltime. He's kind of amazing isn't he? That man is so darn smart and. . ."

Finn laced his hands behind his head ready to listen to her sing the praises of the attorney, but Cori came to her senses, smoothing over the hint of affection she had for the man.

"Still, you're right. We don't have a darn thing for all his work on that Ring image," she said.

"He explained it was a problem with the quality of the video. Sure the man can't work miracles," Finn said.

"Say it ain't so." Cori leaned over Finn's desk to peruse the mess of papers and the image on his computer screen.  "Are you finding anything in the phone records that will help?"

"Not what I had hoped for," he said. "I've six months of Roxana's records, and not one call to the Cucas’ numbers."

"Do you have all their numbers?"

"Two cells and a land line. If there's another it would have to be a burner."

"Entirely possible," Cori said. "The little miss was involved in some pretty rotten stuff. Burners wouldn't be out of the question. Look at the poor reverend she dug her claws into. He nearly had a heart attack when we showed up on his doorstep."

The interview with the man of God had been a hoot. From his bad dye job to his brood-mare caps and matchy-matchy leisure outfit, he was everything Cori knew he would be. The minister would look great on television with the right lighting—he might even look sexy and diabolical in a mask and tuxedo at an Asylum party— but without his girdle and make-up there wasn't much to recommend him.

"Did you catch his reaction when we told him she was dead?" Cori chuckled. "I swear his soul flew straight up to heaven to thank the good Lord."

"At least the missus wasn't there to hear," Finn said, unable to hide his smile "From what I gathered, he was being beaten up by women on all sides."

"Only one lady in his life now," Cori said. "He isn't an Asylum guy anymore."

"But we do know he's a man of great faith," Finn said.

"How's that?"  Cori asked.

"He had faith that Roxana had no duplicate files of the incriminating photos," Finn said.

"It was an act. That guy was going to go to his own grave sweating that. Now he can kick back and enjoy his millions 'cause she beat him to that fancy box," Cori said. "But you know what? I've got me a ton of faith that you'll find something in those phone records that will lead us right back to the Cucas. My money is still on good old Enver."

"I'm of the same opinion." Finn sat up. Cori slid off the desk. "But we'd have to tie ourselves in knots to convince a D.A. to bring charges with what we have now. So much and so little all at the same time."

"This thing has more layers than a wedding cake," Cori said. "We just got to cut through the paste and get to the yummy stuff."

"It's early yet," Finn said. "And I've a long list of questions for Mr. Cuca. The picture he painted of Roxana, the NDA we've heard of, his mention in the contract. I want to know who arranged the party, and how the girl was in his home, and yet no one saw her come in. That bothers me more than a howling wind. How could he never have met her?"

"You want to bring him and the little woman down here tomorrow?"  Cori asked.

"No. We'll go to them. I want another look at that upstairs room." He inclined his head to a roll of blueprints he'd put aside. "I've got those from the city. They've records of the building going back to when it was built in 1918. There was a redo in '47, and then some minor changes when it became a work/live space. There are tunnels