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“No, sweetheart, I wasn’t. I was worried about him being too mature for you, but he proved he was not mature enough. I just hope you see that you deserve much better than a guy like that.”
She sat up on the bed next to me and leaned her head against my shoulder.
Juliana said, “It just hurts so bad. I thought we had something real.”
“You did. He was just too stupid to realize it.” I put my arm around her and wiped a tear off her cheek with my finger. “There’s nothing I can say right now that’s not a stereotype of something every dad would say. But you are so beautiful and so smart that you’ll have your choice of men across the city. And you’ve always got this guy, who loves you no matter what.”
She squeezed me, then mumbled, “Thanks, Dad.”
I patted her on the back and said, “Do you feel like going to Super Tacos with us? It’s up to you. No one will force you.”
She sniffled and said, “I heard Trent might be some kind of brainiac like Eddie. I can’t miss a celebration for that. Can you give me a few minutes?”
“As long as you need, sweetheart.”
I kissed her on the top of her head, and somehow I was the one who felt better.
Chapter 68
My ad hoc task force on homicides had attracted some attention. While I was briefing the forensics people and some of the detectives involved, I noticed Internal Affairs inspector Alice Witcroft slip into a seat at the rear of the conference room.
Roddy Huerta had been true to his word and not mentioned to anyone that I had cut a deal with Julio Laza just before he was murdered. He sat, in his usual suit and tie, making notes as I spoke.
I had to give him credit because he didn’t even shoot me any sidelong glances when I talked about the murders and failed to mention Julio and his cousin Willie Perez. Of course, there was no evidence that the two Dominican gunmen were murdered by our suspect. But I still believed it deep down.
When I asked if anyone had anything new, Cassie Max was the first to speak up.
She said, “I’ve done nothing but look through surveillance videos in the areas of my two homicides. I have a couple of shots that don’t show a face but do show a woman with long brown hair, about five foot seven, who seems to have something strapped across her that’s not a purse.”
Cassie handed out photos taken from the video. She had described it perfectly.
Roddy said, “I have a similar-looking woman coming out of the East Harlem hotel.”
“Can you see her face?”
“No. Just long hair, nice legs, and high heels. I discounted her the first time I saw her. Once you gave us more information I zeroed in on her immediately.”
A plump forensics tech named Harry said, “I think she has a camera on a strap around her.”
I said, “How do you know?”
“Because I have one strapped around me most of the day. No one ever even notices.”
Now, with a new perspective, I saw it, too. “It does look like a camera.”
Cassie Max said, “Do you think she takes trophy photos?”
I said, “Or is it a cover?”
The meeting broke up on its own. Everyone had things they wanted to get done immediately.
I thought I might slip out of the conference room without having to talk to Alice Witcroft. I had nothing against her personally. It was just a general feeling that it was best to avoid Internal Affairs.
The tall and fit fifty-year-old woman nearly blocked the door to keep me from escaping.
She smiled as she said, “C’mon, Bennett. You really think you can evade me that easily?”
“I thought I’d try.” I matched her gaze. I’m sure many a cop had melted under those intelligent blue eyes. “What are you doing here, Alice?”
