Force of Habit: A Falcone & Driscoll Investigation by Alice Loweecey Read Free Book Online Page B

footsteps, she opened the third drawer of the nearest filing cabinet and set her box in the back. If he didn’t leave soon, she’d have to wash the drawer with undiluted disinfectant.
    She carried a manila folder back to the desk. A faceless grunt doing her faceless job.
    “Time stamp says 4:42. All I see is... an arm in a long sleeve?” Blake’s voice from Frank’s office.
    “If she moves just two inches to the right, we’ll see her face in the next shot.” Frank, in his detached, concentrating voice.
    “What the—where’d the picture go?”
    “Blake, don’t touch the camera.”
    “The connection must be broken.” A rattle and a metallic knock.
    “She covered the camera with mud, Blake. That’s why there’s no picture.”
    “What? How’d she know it was there?”
    “She looked for it. She’s no dummy.”
    “Now what do we do?” If that had come from a child’s mouth, Giulia would’ve labeled it a wail.
    “You take Pamela’s camera back and hide it... let’s see... behind that embroidered pillow in the wrought-iron chair on the front porch. Make sure the lens has a clear line of sight to the mailbox.”
    “Fine. What about the one at my place?” Footsteps and Blake’s voice coming closer.
    “We’ll bring it out this afternoon.” Frank passed Giulia’s desk, Blake following.
    “We? Who else have you told?” Blake grabbed the shoulder of Frank’s jacket. “Don’t you understand confidentiality?”
    “Of course I do.” Frank smiled the way that made Giulia unable to stay mad at him. “I have a partner. Ms. Giulia Falcone, let me introduce Blake Parker.”
    Stand. Smile. Look him in the eye. “Pleased to meet you.” She grasped his hand. Clammy. His, not hers. Better that way. Gave her an air of competence.
    “Same here.” His eyes traveled from her lived-in sandals and cotton skirt up to her plain, yellow camp shirt.
    Yes, she shopped at Goodwill. No, she wasn’t tall, thin, or blonde. And yet—he was giving her a “Hey, babe” smile. Good Lord, was it possible for any male to be that convinced of his universal appeal? Apparently.
    Frank tapped the monitor. “She’s the organized half. I’m the deducer.”
    “Are you sure she can keep her mouth shut? It’s bad enough there’s some psychotic bitch after me and Pamela. I don’t need more women screwing up our lives.”
    Don’t react. You’re invisible. Let Frank stroke this arrogant pretty boy.
    Frank’s smile clenched, then relaxed. “Blake, you hired me because you trust my skill and judgment. I know that trust extends to every part of my investigation.” He shifted his balance, and his stance became at once assured and easy.
    Blake waved a hand in Giulia’s direction. “Fine. Whatever it takes to get us out of this mess.” He sniffed; his eyes found the original pomegranate on her desk. He pointed with a slightly crooked finger. “That—disgusting thing. Are you positive someone I dated is doing all this?”
    “ ’Fraid so.”
    Blake spread his hands, the picture of ingenuousness. “They all took the breakup so well.”
    Giulia nearly laughed, but her speakers screeched. Saved by the e-mail bell. She swiveled to the screen as Frank walked Blake over to the window, talking.
    Blake interrupted Frank’s soothing report, leaning out the window and muttering about the stink.
    Poor baby—he really should do something about that whine. It distorts his modulated voice.
    Frank planted his elbows next to Blake’s on the wide sill. “We’re on top of it. These things don’t resolve overnight. We’re collecting the data we need to close this.”
    Another impatient whine.
    Frank stood. “It’s just like in high school—I got your back.”
    Blake drew his head inside and poked his crooked finger into Frank’s lapel. “Just do it quietly. No cops.” Poke. “If word gets to upper management that I’m involved in anything to do with the law, my promotion is out the window.” Poke. “It doesn’t matter that