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

Finn shook his head. "No, thank you, missus."

"God I love the way you talk." Mitzie put a hand on Cori's arm. "Don't you love the way he talks?"

"It's pretty awesome," Cori said. "But you kind of get used to it."

With that, they sent Mitzie on her way promising to stop for a nightcap before they left. They forgot the promise the minute she was out of sight. Finn cut away from Cori and went to the side of the building. Cori checked out the front steps. When he came back Cori said:

"The delivery is from Art World. Looks legit."

"There's a light on up in Roxana's room," Finn said.

 "Anyone up there?" Cori's eyes went up even though she couldn't see the windows.

 "No idea."

Finn picked up the package and put it under his arm. Cori walked ahead of him, up the stairs toward the front door. The bronze ladies still held their crackle glass globes high, but those fixtures were dark. Still, there was a sliver of light to show them the way and it came from inside.

Cori knocked.

The door opened a little. Finn took hold of the knob and pushed it further still.

"Mr. and Mrs. Cuca? Detectives O'Brien and Anderson," he called.

All was silent.

He knocked again. He called once more. And once more after that.

"I'm not liking this," Cori said. "It's too quiet."

"Agreed."

Finn took the package from under his arm, and put it down inside the door. He and Cori were thinking the same thing. Those under a black cloud of suspicion followed many paths. Some stood strong and let the process take its course. Others turned their anger against the system. Still others raged against those they loved, and sometimes destroyed themselves in the process. Enver and Emi Cuca might have fallen into the last category.

Fearing for their safety, Finn and Cori drew their weapons and went through the great room. The couches, chairs, and tables were in place. The crack running down the huge glass table had given way and part of the edge was broken off. The floor gleamed.  Cori listed this way, Finn took a few steps that way. Their eyes moved, the hands that held their weapons swept in front of them. Cori made her way to the back of the room. The kitchen was spotless. She used her foot to nudge the bathroom door open. She looked into the bedroom. Both rooms were empty and the bed was made. Finn looked for any sign of disturbance as he went toward the alcove and the stairs. He found none.

Cori was back with him, shaking her head, confirming that she had found nothing untoward. There was an eerie silence in the room, a staleness that had not been there before. The place felt abandoned. They moved on, going up the familiar staircase. As before, Finn went onto the landing and Cori hung back. This time the closet door was open. It was dark inside and empty except for a chair in one corner.

They went up the next flight of stairs, and stood at the mouth of the short hall that led to the workroom. Though they had seen it before, the sight of the body parts and finished companions was jarring.

Finn moved forward with purpose, emboldened by the emptiness of the first two floors. In his heart, he hoped there was a fourth option: the Cucas had simply left. He would much rather hunt them down as fugitives than find one or both of them dead. That proved to be wishful thinking. He motioned to Cori. Pointing to the 'house' room. When she joined him, she heard Emi and Enver Cuca arguing. They spoke in their native language. Enver's voice raised an octave. Emi shut him down. Her words were like bullets spitting from a machine gun.

Finn went through the workroom, silently pushing through the companions. Cori caught one and set it aside carefully as she followed her partner. The 'house' room was exactly as they had first seen it. The white curtains around the bed had been replaced. They were more opaque than the originals. They hung high and the fabric pooled elegantly on the floor, but these replacements were panels and not cut from one length of fabric. They parted enough so that the detectives could see a new mattress was on the box springs, but housekeeping was not their concern. They only had eyes for Enver and Emi Cuca.

Enver's back was to the curtains. He looked drawn and grey as if he had neither food nor sleep in the days since the murder. His clothes were rumpled, his hair unwashed.  Emi Cuca faced him, a piece of metal in one hand and a gun in the other. She pointed the gun at her husband's head. If she pulled the trigger, the bullet would enter above the bridge of his nose. Neither of them knew Finn and Cori were watching. Enver because he was transfixed by the sight of the gun; Emi because she only had eyes for her husband.

"Largohu. Largohu tani. Get away. Leave now."

Emi's voice was harsh. Finn could see her profile. Her face was puffy, there was a catch in her throat as she tried to control her words.

"Jo. Jo, Emi," Enver said, and Finn knew he was pleading with her.

She took a step forward, he took one back. That's when Enver saw the detectives.

"Ju lutem, Emi, Policia është këtu. The police are here, Emi."

He held one hand toward Finn and Cori, begging his wife to see the truth of what he said. A shudder ran up Emi's spine. Her arm shook, but she doubled down and gripped the gun tighter. Her head swiveled toward them and back again, so that she could keep her eye on her husband. They had seen enough to know that Emi Cuca was now made of grief and hatred and that was a dangerous combination.

"You go. You go until this is done." She growled at Cori and Finn without looking their way again.

"Missus. Missus."

Finn repeated