LITMIR.BIZ

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even graduated.

      No steady relationships. Shanna had dated one person in the six-month period prior to her death. He was another accountant at the firm where she had interned. According to her family she hadn’t dated often because she had been goal orientated. Maybe it was a guy she turned down and his ego couldn’t handle it. But it seemed farfetched.

      “Do you remember this Cavilla guy? The one she dated,” Jake said.

      “Yeah, he seemed a little old for her. Why?”

      “The answers lie in the rage; this kind of violence suggests a scorned lover or wanna-be lover to me.”

      “We looked at him but nothing popped,” Louie said.

      “We did, but let’s relook at his alibi.”

      “Got something?”

      “No.”

      Jake dug around in the file until he unearthed the information on the boyfriend. Mark Cavilla, at five-nine, weighed about one hundred fifty pounds. He had black hair, black eyes, and a black temper to go with it.

      “Your notes say his answers seemed rehearsed at the time. What else do you remember about him?”

      “His statement seemed off and he had an attitude right from the beginning,” Louie stated.

      “He was alibied by the bartender at a bar less than two miles from the scene. I always believed the killer was a local guy since she was dumped in town even though she was supposed to be up at school in Storrs at the time of the killing. It’s a long way to travel to dump a body unless you’re familiar with the area and that particular construction site. They picked well. No one would be around a construction site at night. I want to re-interview the bartender before too much time goes by. Okay, what else…?” Jake’s head snapped up.

      A couple of his detectives were going at it. Amused, Jake listened in. He didn’t do anything about them. These things tended to work themselves out if left alone.

      “What was I going to say?”

      “Christ, Carrington, can’t you read without your lips moving? I’m trying to concentrate here,” Burke yelled.

      Al Burke had his moments. A detective in the department for over ten years, he’d seen it all. Fifteen years a cop and his face showed it. He wouldn’t consider him attractive, with his hard eyes, the stomach the size of Jupiter, and a Rudolph-red nose from drinking. Jake figured Burke had a few more years on the job before it crushed him. The guy’d been divorced three times, and produced five children. A heavy drinker, he could turn on a dime, but his investigative skills were prime. He had no problems going through a door with Burke.

      “Al, how’d you get the black eye?” Jake asked with a wide grin on his face. He knew, but he wanted Al to say it out loud.

      “Shut up. Everyone, shut up,” Burke said, walking toward the coffee machine.

      “A ninety-year-old woman landed a punch when his guard was down,” Kraus, Burke’s partner, said.

      “I’m warning you, Kraus. Shut up.” Burke slammed down his coffee cup. “You guys don’t know the half of it.”

      Laughing, Detective Gunther “Gunner” Kraus continued, “To his credit, Sarge, she was like a pit bull.”

      “I’ll say mean.” Burke took over the story as he yanked up his pants and tightened his belt. “Never mind like one, she was. I got away easy. You should have seen what she did to her poor husband. Carved him like a roast because he complained about her smoking. Her freakin’ smoking? I thought those things were supposed to kill you. She’s ninety freaking years old. What I saw today, she’ll last another ten years, if a day. I feel sorry for her cellmate. Her poor sliced-up husband lived with the witch for seventy-five years. Me, I would have killed myself around year two.”

      “We can help. What’s your choice of weapons, Al?” Louie threw in to bait him.

      “Funny. I’m breaking my stitches on that one, Romanelli.”

      Movement to the side of Jake pulled him from the banter between his detectives. McGuire stood in his doorway with his arms folded over his chest as he listened in on the conversation.

      “Jake, you got a minute?” Shamus asked.

      “Sure, what’s up?” Twice in one day, he hoped it was better news than this morning.

      “We’ll talk in my office.” McGuire turned and walked in. Jake followed. “Shut the door.”

      “More bad news on Spaulding?”

      “No. The board reviewed your request.” Lord Christ, the man has the best poker face I’ve ever seen.

      “What’s their decision?” Jake braced himself for the news. The way this day was going, it couldn’t be good.

      “The chief and I feel you’re not ready to sit at a desk handling administrative issues. We feel you and the citizens of Wilkesbury will be happier and better served with you on the streets with Louie,” McGuire said.

      With his stomach sinking to his knees, he asked, “Did the board review any other items on their agenda?”

      McGuire stared him down for a second before he stuck out his hand. “Congratulations, Lieutenant! You’ve earned it, Jake. This division is yours, if you still want it.”

      “I do.” He’d been apprehensive when he took the exam. If he passed he wasn’t guaranteed homicide. The brass would put him where they felt he was needed. This was a gift.

      “You’re a credit to this department and the city. The ceremony will take place at the mayor’s office on the twenty-fifth at noon. Congratulations again.”

      “Thank you, sir. I’m sure we’ll go out for a couple of beers to celebrate. Join us?”

      “I’d love to. Instead I’ll be sitting in a hot, sweaty room, waiting for my child to dance, applauding like I’m at a Broadway show. Boys are much easier to raise than girls. Think of me when you lift your glass. I’ve never had a better officer on my team than you, Jake.”

      Those recitals could take hours. Louie once guilted him into one of Marisa’s, and as her godfather, he’d had no choice but to say yes. Every year after that he made damn sure he had plans. He washed the horrific memory of it out of his head.

      Ignoring Louie’s finger tapping when he returned to his desk, Jake picked up the Wagner file and started to read.

      “Okay, what gives? What did the captain want this time?”

      “That’s Lieutenant to you, Detective.”

      Louie jumped up. He pulled Jake into his arms for a hug instead of giving him a handshake. “Well this calls for a real celebration. Hey, Burke, Sergeant Carrington is now your Lieutenant. He’s the head cheese of homicide. Hot damn!”

      Louie threw a couple air punches. Jake hoped Louie’s test results were positive this time around. It killed Louie when he’d failed the sergeant’s test not once but twice. But maybe the third time around was the charm. He wondered why Louie’s face didn’t split in half with such a wide grin on it.

      Cops swarmed Jake’s desk from all divisions.

      Louie tapped him on the shoulder. “Captain wants to see you again.”

      Jake broke away from the crowd. “Yeah, Cap?”

      “The title comes with an office. Pick one out as soon as possible.”

      McGuire came around his desk with his briefcase in his hand. He patted Jake on the back, then turned off his office light and left.

      How would this promotion affect the dynamics between him and Louie?

      What a day. First the news about Spaulding and now he’d been promoted. He couldn’t figure out if he wanted to celebrate or punch someone out.

      “This

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