All in One Piece by Cecelia Tishy Read Free Book Online

son’s junior deputy phase, his little badge. Do I get one
     to pin on my collar? How could Frank Devaney go along with this? As a senior detective, he outranks Maglia. How could he?
    Yet their request for help tells me that so far, early as it is, the police have no notion who Steven Damelin’s killer might
     be.
    What to do? Walk out in a huff? Tell them to call when they have a better offer? Say I’m a psychic and don’t do windows? It’s
     tempting. But if I give in to injured pride, they’ll cut me out of the case altogether. The new Boston life that I love will
     end in a heartbeat. These past months of homicide cases working with Devaney, they’re everything to me. Even though I’m unofficial,
     a volunteer, the cases are my life’s adventure.
    And now, suddenly, my life blood? Steven’s dead body is burned into my brain… and my door marked, patterned in blood,
     actual blood. Life blood and death blood. Did that blue car start all this? My daughter is right, I could be a marked woman.
    Frank Devaney won’t meet my gaze. He reaches in his pocket for a roll of Tums and crunches a tablet. Maglia drums his manicured
     nails. I’ll play the hand they’ve dealt me. “Well, gentlemen, I already have a useful fact for you. The boy whom Steven Damelin
     was mentoring. Luis?”
    Maglia nods while Devaney’s brow angles up.
    “I talked to two grocers who describe Luis as disruptive and temperamental, actually violent. He vandalized their store, and
     Damelin paid them for the damage. They did not contact the police, so no official record exists.” I then spell “Tsakis Brothers”
     and give the address, knowing George and Ari will not be pleased but will forgive. Maglia’s expression of approval tells me
     I’ve got my start as mail clerk and concierge.
    Ladylike and cool, I say, “Detective Maglia, Frank, I’m having my locks changed, but I’m worried about security. Can you tell
     me how much police protection I’ll get?”
    “Ms. Cutter, we’ll have stepped-up patrols on your block, day and night, long enough to ensure safety in your neighborhood.”
    Meaning, best guess, only a few days. Then I’m totally on my own. It’s not their personal problem. Nobody marked their doors
     in blood. Nobody tried to run them down.
    “Can you tell me when the Homicide Division might know more about my front door? When will you know whether the blood marks
     are accidental or deliberate? And whether the blood is in fact Steven Damelin’s?”
    Devaney leans forward and coughs. His buckle scrapes the edge of the tabletop, the belt out to the loosest hole. Maglia clears
     his throat and looks sheepish. “Thing is, Ms. Cutter, an investigation takes time. Many different leads must be followed.
     And people aren’t always what they seem to be. For instance, you described your tenant as a clean-cut young man who gave you
     first aid when you fell.”
    “Yes.”
    “We already have information that suggests a very different profile.”
    Maddening, they don’t tell me what it is.
    Maglia actually smiles. He has a chipped front tooth. “So we’re just asking you to look at the mail and take note of anybody
     that might come around asking about the deceased.”
    “Just anybody?” I ask. “Or would certain people fit the profile better? Maybe if you could be more specific?” I bat my eyes
     for the naive, expectant effect. Neither one bites. The profile is their secret.
    “Ms. Cutter, if you just keep an eye out, we’ll take it from there.”
    “Let me ask another question. What about Steven’s belongings?”
    “I’ll tell you something, Ms. Cutter. We’ve learned that Steven Damelin was estranged from his family.”
    “How about his furniture?”
    Maglia shrugs. They push back to signal the close of the interview. We all stand. Frank Devaney says, “Consider it yours to
     dispose of.” Maglia thanks me for serving as eyes and ears.

Chapter Nine
    E yes and ears?” I’m at the curb by my Beetle