Page 106 of D for Dead

Damn it, Mom. You’ve got Alan hounding me now too?

‘Listen, Alan, I really have to go.’

‘Are you listening to me, Becky? I said this is important.’

‘Yes, fine. I’ll call her.’

‘Okay, well I love–’

Rebecca killed the call, slipping her cell phone back into her pocket.

‘Is everything okay in here?’ she asked, stepping into the kitchen.

Heidi whirled around, surprised. ‘Everything is fine thank you, officer.’

‘Detective,’ Rebecca corrected.

‘It’s not exactly fine, Heidi.’ Amy scowled at her friend. ‘You should have told me.’

‘And give you another thing to worry about? It’s no big deal.’

‘Are you kidding? It’s a huge deal.’

‘What’s going on?’ Rebecca snapped, losing patience.

Amy turned to her. ‘It’s our friend, Ryan. The one whose dog I’m looking after. He’s travelling around Europe and no one can get hold of him.’

‘You know what he’s like, Amy. He’s pretty crap when it comes to phones and keeping in touch. He’s fine.’

‘How do you know that, Heidi? You’ve been trying to get hold of him for nearly two weeks and nothing.’ Amy closed her eyes, rubbed her palms over her temples. ‘God, I didn’t know. I hadn’t even thought about him or tried to get in touch. I am such a shitty friend.’

‘I think you can be forgiven,’ Rebecca told her sympathetically. ‘You’ve had a lot on your plate.’

‘That still doesn’t make it right.’

‘See, I knew we shouldn’t have told you,’ Heidi huffed sulkily. ‘Gage was all, like, we should tell her, we should tell her, but I knew you’d get stressed out and start blaming yourself.’ She shook her head, annoyed.

‘Give me his details,’ Rebecca suggested, stepping in as mediator. ‘I’m sure your friend is fine, but I’ll see what I can find out.’

Heidi scribbled down Ryan’s name, address and cell phone number for her, and Rebecca left the two girls to clear the air, under the watch of Boaz.

Walking out to her car she glanced at the paper. Ryan Caparelli, 860 Lombard Street. She recognised the road name. It was on the other side of town. She folded the paper, slipping it into her pocket, thinking Ryan Caparelli was probably better off in Europe staying as far away from Amy Gallaty as possible.

32

Victor Boaz went down sick on Thursday night, a few hours after eating curry from his favourite takeout, and called in early Friday morning to say he wouldn’t be able to make it over to Amy’s to relieve Peterson.

‘Jesus, are you kidding me? Can’t he hug the toilet bowl over at Amy’s?’ Joel grumbled when he got the message, and swore about Boaz under his breath. They were short on staff and time and this wasn’t a good time to be a man down. He needed everyone following leads, but with the killer closing in he could not afford to leave Amy alone either. He debated who to send.

Sullivan was a bad idea for more reasons than one. Besides, Joel needed him following up the lead in Melford. Same with Angell. Both detectives were too valuable to the case to waste time on babysitting duties.

Rivers ambled into the office, preoccupied texting, a stupid grin plastered across his face. The idiot spent far too much time attached to his phone, talking with his buddies back home. Over the past couple of days he had been checking on hotel accommodation in the area, trying to get a tab on David Gavin, and had so far turned up nothing. A job Joel would have to get Angell to finish.

‘I need you over at Amy Gallaty’s. Boaz has called in sick.’ Rivers glanced up from his phone, irritated.

‘You seriously expect me to sit around in her apartment all day? I’m not a babysitter.’

‘Today you are.’