Page 22 of One Step After Another

Why did she do that? Why Elijah Smithsenson?

Why that night—when the spotlight on the Smithenson was shining brighter than ever as they rallied funds from wealthy donors?

Why, why, why.

He hated whys.

And since the dead couldn’t talk—and neither could the ghost he hadn’t been able to catch—and the media had been mum on the details about the murder otherwise, Luca was left with only a few options at his disposal. He needed as much information on the murder, and the political family, as he could get his hands on. Something there would lead him to the whys he didn’t have answers for about Penny’s involvement in the murder.

He was sure of it.

It was the only thing that happened in the hotel that night—she was on Elijah Smithenson’s floor. The media’s lack of discussion on the murder told him that the family was trying to keep the details out of the spotlight for whatever reason.

Police were crawling all over it.

It had to be Penny.

Luca figured if he could find the answers to his questions, then it might be one more thing he could use to lead him back to her. To find her.

“One I think is willing to talk about the Smithenson family and the murder,” Luca added after a moment.

That had Naz raising a brow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Or at least, the contact I spoke to said he seemed open and willing to do it. Guess the guy was on to something. He apparently had a story ready to print and everything before it ended up pulled for whatever reason.”

Luca would really like to know that reason.

“The Smithenson family probably didn’t like what he wrote. It’s not like it would be the first time a political family had an arm of control in the media. Shit, that’s half the fucking job there, right?”

“What are you two talking about?”

The question from Luca’s sister who sat on the otherside of Naz at the table had the two men growing quiet. His friend had been clear—Roz couldn’t know anything. Not about Luca’s job, the things he had found, or the shit he might find in the future. Not until they could get her solid answers and a connection to Penny.

She felt bad enough.

Why add to it?

“Nothing, babe,” Naz said, leaning into his wife to kiss her on the top of her head.

It was that moment that one of Luca’s favorite people decided to make his little presence known at the table. His godson, Cross, named after his grandfather with the attitude to match his namesake. The five-year-old picked up a slice of French toast from his plate where he sat next to his mother, Luca’s sister, and whistled so loud that he shocked the server pouring him a glass of orange juice. His laughter as the juice stained the white tablecloth said the kid had done exactly what he meant to do, especially when he smirked at his father.

“Whoops,” little Cross said.

“Cross,” Naz said, his sharp tone melting away the boy’s smirk.

“Sorry, Papa.”

“My fault,” the server was quick to say, dabbing at the tablecloth with the white towel she had previously slung over her shoulder.

“No, it wasn’t. Someone was just being a pest,” Naz muttered.

“Apologize to her,” Roz told her son.

The kid sighed.

Always dramatic.

“Sorry,” the boy told the server.