ABSOLUTION (A Frank Renzi novel) by Susan A Fleet Read Free Book Online Page A

comfort food, his mother called it. He ate at the Hibernia Diner at least once a week, sitting alone in a window booth with shamrock-green plastic seats.
    With no woman to confide in, he had to settle for corned beef, not bad, but not as good as his mother’s. Colleen Sullivan Renzi, dead five years now, and he still missed her. She had always been his emotional anchor, never judging or telling him what to do, the perfect sounding board.
    Sinead finished singing and Irish fiddle music erupted from the speakers as a young guy with a ponytail fed quarters into a jukebox at the far end of the room. The diner was built like a railroad car, the entry door bisecting a row of booths overlooking the parking lot, all but two—his and Ponytail’s—empty now that the dinner rush was over. Along the counter to his left, two older men in plaid shirts were gabbing over coffee and pecan pie.
    He drank some Harp ale and took out his notepad. Earlier he had phoned the third victim’s parents to obtain the name of her parish priest. When he identified himself, Lynette Beauregard’s mother asked if he’d found her daughter’s killer. When he said he hadn’t, her initial euphoria morphed into tears. After giving him the priest’s name, Father Sean Daily, she had begged him to find the killer, a heartbroken woman, grieving for a daughter who’d been murdered one week shy of her twenty-first birthday.
    His daughter was only three years older, living alone in a strange city. What would he do if Maureen were murdered? His throat constricted. For twenty years they’d been as close as a father and daughter could be, but after Evelyn filed for divorce and dropped the adultery bombshell, a chasm deeper than the Grand Canyon had opened between them.
    He couldn’t begin to count the times he’d heard grief-stricken parents tell him they never got the chance to tell their kids they loved them: gunshot victims, car crashes, drug overdoses, it didn’t matter. Every parent wanted to say a last goodbye to the kid they loved more than anything in the world.
    On impulse, he took out his cellphone, punched in Maureen’s number and waited, hoping he wouldn’t get her machine. He didn’t want to leave a message. The last time he did—a month ago—she hadn’t called back.
    His pulse quickened when she answered. “Hey Mo, how you doing?” he said, picturing her long chestnut-brown hair and her emerald-green eyes.
    “ Oh hi, Dad. I’m okay, how are you?” she said, her tone distant.
    “ Ah, the usual. You know, busy, but I was thinking about you and decided to call you on the spur of the moment,” he finished lamely. Why was he apologizing for calling her?
    “ Mmm, well, I’m pretty busy too.” The line crackled with silence.
    He drained the last of his Harp ale. “I miss you, Mo, haven’t seen you since Christmas. How about coming down for a weekend? I’ll pay your airfare.” He put his heart and soul into it, hoping she’d agree.
    More silence. He realized someone was standing beside his booth, his waitress, a young woman with a curvy figure and long brown hair.
    “ How about another Harp?” she said, chewing gum, gazing at him, her eyes bright with interest. She angled her jaw, snapped the gum.
    He shook his head and motioned for the check.
    “ I can’t, Dad. I don’t get much time off, and when I do, I go to the riding rink.”
    He scratched his jaw, wanted to say: You’d rather spend time with horses than with your father . But he didn’t. Hell, he wasn’t going to beg.
    “ How about dessert?” said Gum Girl, sending a clear invitation with her flirty eyes. Pop! went the gum. He almost laughed. He was horny as hell, but a gum chewer? She couldn’t be over twenty-five, probably listened to Garth Brooks, didn’t know Billie Holliday from Billy the Kid. If they wound up in bed, what would they talk about afterwards?
    “ Dad? Listen, I have to go get my laundry out of the dryer.”
    “ Mo, hold on a second.” He