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“Same.”
His hand made slow circles over her back. “What should we do instead of Bora Bora? We still have a week off scheduled.”
“What’re our options?”
“Rent a place at the beach in Delaware like we did last summer?” he asked.
“That wouldn’t be as much fun in March.”
“All we need is a bed and a fireplace to make it fun.”
“That’s true and fine with me,” she said. “Do you want me to check to see if the same place is available?”
“Works for me. Maybe we could invite the family out for the second weekend?”
“That’d be fun.”
“I’m thinking of a change of scenery for Ang and the kids,” he said.
“Yes, definitely. Let’s do that.”
“That place is big enough to invite the whole crew. We should be able to get it this time of year, and the Secret Service has already approved it.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“I’m sorry again about Bora Bora,” he said with a playful pout.
“We have the rest of our lives to go there and anywhere else we want to go.”
“I’m looking forward to the rest of our lives.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Freddie got to HQ at six the next morning to write up the details of the investigation so they could request a warrant for the Cortezes’ cell phone data. If they were able to place them at the scene of the crime via their phones, that would tie up the loose ends that were still nagging at him.
Yes, Gia Cortez was a bit unhinged over the gymnastics situation and would’ve wanted Eloise out of the way, but he was having a hard time stretching his imagination to her killing the entire family. A murder of that sort was usually driven by some sort of intense motive, and children’s gymnastics competitions didn’t meet that bar, no matter how he tried to make it fit.
“How goes it?” Malone asked when he approached Freddie’s cubicle.
“Okay, I guess.”
“Any word from the public defender about the Cortezes?”
“Not yet.” Freddie dangled a pen between his fingers as he stared at the computer screen where he’d laid out the case against Pascal and Gia Cortez, such as it was.
“What’s the matter?”
Freddie looked up at the captain. “I’m not feeling it with them.”
“How come?”
“The motive doesn’t fly for me. Six people dead over a middle school gymnastics competition?”
“The racist-animals comment could’ve lit a fuse.”
“I suppose,” Freddie said, still not convinced. “I’ve got the warrant request ready to go for their cell data.”
“That’ll tell the story one way or the other. I’ll get it submitted.”
