Be Mine by Rick Mofina Read Free Book Online Page A

I’m begging you. Don’t.
    Relax, sport. You do your job. I’ll do mine. And nothing will stand
in our way. We’ll give Molly a little more time to put the pieces together. To
realize that what we did to Hooper, we did for her.
    She’s the prize.
    Soon we’ll claim her.

TEN

     
    It was the first bunch of flowers that
puzzled Tom.
    Those long-stemmed roses for Molly that had arrived in the newsroom
the morning after Hooper’s murder. He’d practically bumped into the delivery
guy at the elevator. If they were sent in condolence, how had they arrived so
soon? More flowers came later but that was to be expected. It was a bit
strange, he thought, knotting his tie before his bathroom mirror.
    What did the card say? The card. Where’d he put it? Tom sifted
through the closet laundry hamper for the shirt he’d worn yesterday. Looked in
the pocket. Not there.
    “Dad, check this out.” Zach called Tom into his room where a model
of U.S.S. New Jersey was under construction on his desk. He was impressed with
Zach’s craftsmanship. No glue blobs anywhere. As Zach got older his work had
become flawless. Tom had taught him to use patience with his model building and
the pieces would eventually all come together. The way most of his stories did.
    “Looking good, son. Real good.”
    “Do you think you can help me with the superstructure later, Dad?”
    “You bet.” Tom bent down to examine Zach’s neat work on the turrets
and guns. He patted Zach’s shoulder and his son beamed.
    “Tom.” Ann approached them from the hallway. She was wearing a
tailored suit. He loved how the fine gold necklace he’d given her for their
last anniversary looked with her V-neck top. “Phone. It’s Irene Pepper.” She
passed him their cordless. “Zach, honey, go finish your breakfast.”
    “Hi, Irene,” Tom said.
    “Nice job on today’s piece. Have you seen the paper yet?”
    “Not yet.” Tom resumed rummaging in a futile search for the card.
    “We absolutely killed everybody. Good work. You think Molly might
give us a first-person account today?”
    “I don’t know. It just seems early. Have you talked to her?”
    “Just briefly. I never raised the story with her. I was wondering if
you, being close to her, would sound her out on it?”
    In the silence that followed Tom felt the heat of Pepper’s
determination to pull a story from Molly. He forced himself to hold his tongue.
    “Dad!” Zach called from the kitchen. “You’re on TV!”
    “Irene, can I talk to you when I get in?”
    She let a beat pass.
    “Fine.”
    In the kitchen, Tom saw himself on the portable TV on the counter.
Zach lifted his face from his cereal bowl and boosted the volume.
    “We have to get going, Zach,” Ann said from the table where she was
going through the morning papers as Live Action Bay News broadcast the last of
its interview with Tom Reed, senior crime writer, the San Francisco Star ,
according to the graphic under his head.
    “And tell us, Tom, do police have any suspects in Inspector Hooper’s
homicide?”
    “No. Not that they’re saying. They’ll examine everything at the
scene, retrace Hooper’s final steps--” he said as the item ended.
    Zach thudded down the hardwood hallway. Ann collected her keys and
her bag. “I tried to call Molly last night,” Ann said. “Her line was busy. How
do you think she’s doing?”
    “Holding up, I guess. You know how these things go better than
anyone.”
    She nodded and he stroked her hair. Her color was natural again.
Nothing obvious told of the events that had befallen her several months ago.
How she’d been out running an errand when, in a heartbeat, she was staring down
the barrel of a gun. Ann had been trapped in an armed robbery where a police
officer was murdered before her eyes. She was terrorized by his killers. The
scar of her experience was not visible. But Tom saw it in her face. Heard it in
her voice. She’d changed. Fear now nested in her heart and he did all he could
to