“Probably a hate crime. We’ll take over the interview since your shift is almost over. You and Finn check the other places across the street and the rest of the block before you go. See if anyone in this run-down neighborhood has a security camera that caught anything.”
Morozov walked right up to the woman and flashed his badge.
Finn rolled his eyes. “I guess we’re dismissed, huh?”
“Don’t get me started. Let’s see if the other places on this block saw anything.”
The small Mexican bakery next door was already closed for the day, and the smoke shop on the other side was a bust. They were about to enter a used bookstore when Michael’s phone rang.
Pops.
Why was he calling during his work hours? His pediatric clinic was too busy to be calling for a friendly chat. Gabe and Raphael should still be at football practice. Had one of them been hurt? Or maybe something had happened with one of the girls? All the worst-case scenarios ran through his brain.
“Sorry, I gotta take this, Finn. It’s my dad.”
“No problem. I’ll get started here.” Finn walked into the store, leaving him on the sidewalk alone.
“Pops? Everything okay?” Michael plugged his other ear to hear better.
“Your shift is over, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Good. I need you to go down to the restaurant.” His father’s voice was even and steady. Nothing alarming.
Then again, he was a doctor. He knew how to deliver bad news without inciting panic.
“Did anything happen to the kids? Everything at the clinic okay?”
“Your brothers are fine. They’re at football. Frankie will pick them up.”
“And the other girls?” His other sisters should all be working too.
“They’re all okay. I just need you to go to the restaurant. It’s urgent.” At the word urgent, Michael shoved open the door and gestured to Finn. Martinelli’s Fine Italian Dining had been in the family for three generations. It was practically a second home with the amount of time Michael had spent there with his grandparents. The day-to-day operation fell to his aunt and uncle these days.
“Pops, what’s going on? Are Zio Pete and Zia Rose all right?” Michael covered up the speaker of his phone and whispered to his partner. “We gotta go. Family stuff.”
Finn nodded. “Nothing here anyway. Let’s go.”
His father’s voice overlapped Finn’s. “Just get there, Mike. They need you.”
No need to say anything more. Michael rushed to their department vehicle.
Finn called in to Ives while Michael drove downtown and parked in front of Martinelli’s Fine Italian Dining. He dashed inside but stopped short at the hostess stand where his cousin Arianna stood grinning.
“What’s wrong? Why are you smiling?” Michael looked around for whatever the emergency was. The black tabletops were set for the dinner service with crisp white linens. It was early for supper, yet a few tables were occupied. Still, nothing out of the ordinary. Usually the aroma of Uncle Pete’s pesto, the fragrant basil and garlic would have Michael salivating for his favorite dish, but right now he just needed to make sure his family was safe.
“Michael, here!” Aunt Rose stood in the kitchen doorway and frantically waved him back.
He sprinted over and was quickly ushered into the small office. Aunt Rose closed the door and shoved a hanger of clothes at him.
“Where’s the danger?” Michael looked at the clothes. “And why is my favorite dress shirt here and not hanging in my closet where I left it?”
“Your jeans and shoes are there on the chair too. Change quickly.”
“Why am I changing?” None of this was making sense.
“She’ll be here any minute.” Aunt Rose reached for the doorknob. “I’ll stall.”
