The Heart of a Killer. Jaci Burton
Dante thought about how he was going to tell Ellen on the drive back to the Clemons house. There was no way to prepare her for this. She knew as soon as she opened the door and saw Roman, saw Anna, saw the badge.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
Dante took her hand. “Let’s go inside and sit down.”
She trembled as he put an arm around her and led her to the sofa. She sat, and Roman slid next to her. Gabe came in right behind them and took up position behind Ellen.
“You remember Anna?” Roman asked.
“Of course. How are you?”
Anna didn’t smile. “I’m fine, Mrs. Clemons. I’m sorry to have to tell you this—”
“We found George,” Dante said, interrupting Anna.
Ellen shifted on the sofa to face him. “Where?”
“In an alley off Lindell.”
Her bottom lip trembled and tears filled her eyes. She squeezed Dante’s hand. “Is he dead?”
Dante nodded. “Yes, Ellen. Someone killed him.”
She reached up, covered her mouth, then burst into tears. “Oh, God. Oh, no. George.”
Dante pulled her into his arms and let her sob. Her loud crying woke the kids staying there. Roman and Anna went to talk to them, assured them Ellen was okay, but that something bad had happened to George. Coming from violent households, this wasn’t anything new for these kids. Still, Dante felt bad for them, too. Here they had hopes of a stable life. Now, their lives had been shattered again.
Ellen’s life had been shattered, too, in a way she’d likely never recover from. And there was nothing Dante could do to make this better for her.
Dante went into the kitchen to get Ellen some water. Gabe followed. “You get in touch with Jeff?” he asked Gabe.
“Yeah. He’s out of town. He’s as wrecked about George as the rest of us, and as confused about where it happened. None of this makes sense, man.”
Dante nodded. “Tell me about it.”
He brought Ellen a glass of water and box of tissues. After a while, she stopped crying and contacted a friend, who came over and collected the kids. Once they were gone, as typical for Ellen, she sat, straightened her shoulders and looked at them.
“Tell me what happened.”
Anna looked to Dante. She was giving him the opportunity to take the lead, to decide how much to tell her.
She deserved the truth. All of it.
Dante grasped Ellen’s hand. “He was beaten to death. And…someone carved a heart in his chest.”
Ellen sucked in a breath and held her hand up to her heart. “Who would do this?”
Dante wished he could tell her about the connection to that night twelve years ago. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Not without betraying his brothers—and Anna.
“We don’t know yet, Mrs. Clemons,” Anna said. “But we’ll do everything we can to find out.”
“Thank you,” she said, then turned to Roman. “Will you work the case, too?”
He nodded. “They won’t want me to because George was my father, but I’ll do everything I can to be involved.”
She held out her hand and Roman grasped it.
This was family. Dante had missed it. And he’d come home too late to save it.
“There’s more,” Anna said. “An ounce of cocaine was found in George’s pocket.”
Ellen’s eyes widened. “Drugs? George doesn’t do drugs. Never did.”
“Do you have any idea why he would have had drugs in his pocket?” Anna asked. “Maybe one of the foster kids was mixed up in drugs and he was interceding on their behalf?”
Ellen shook her head. “No. None of the boys staying with us have drug-related issues. I can’t think of any reason he’d be involved in that. George was strict about no drugs in this house. You took drugs or brought any into this house, you were in deep trouble with him. He’d personally call the police on one of the kids if he found drugs. For him to be found with drugs—” her eyes watered “—it’s an insult to his memory.”
“We’re all pretty sure it was a setup, Ellen,” Gabe said, laying his hands on her shoulders. “The police will get it figured out.”
She grabbed for a tissue. “But in the meantime, they’ll put in the record that he was found with drugs on him. And that doesn’t sit well with me. George would be so hurt by that.”
She shuddered out a sob, and Dante wanted to make this all go away. He wanted to back up one more day, get here sooner. He wanted to stop all this from happening.
Could he have?
Dante didn’t want to leave Ellen, but she said her two younger sisters were coming over. There were funeral plans to be made, and he didn’t want to get in the way. They all took their leave with the arrival of her sisters. Dante promised to come back tomorrow. She grabbed him in a fierce hug.
“Don’t disappear.”
He kissed her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise. And if you need me—for anything—you call.”
She pulled back, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I will.”
They all walked outside, and Dante looked up at the clear sky. God, it was still hot out, and he had no idea what time it was.
Late.
Roman and Anna were huddled near his car, whispering. Arguing. Roman finally took off, and so did Gabe, leaving the two of them together.
Anna was about to get into her car, but Dante headed her off.
“Anna.”
Her head shot up and she pinned him with a glare, but didn’t say anything.
He’d forgotten how beautiful her eyes were. As a teenager, she’d been so pretty with her hair always in a ponytail, her face shaped like a heart, her skin dark in the Italian way, her eyes the color of the finest whiskey. And her mouth—he’d never truly been able to appreciate her mouth, with her full bottom lip that begged for the tugging of a man’s teeth.
He hadn’t been quite a man yet, hadn’t had the time to fully appreciate Anna, never got to see her blossom into a woman.
She was so pretty at sixteen. Now? She could stop traffic.
It had been a rough night. The kind of night when a man thought about grabbing what he wanted before it was too late.
He’d denied himself what he wanted for a long damn time. Things like home. Family.
Anna.
His jeans tightened as she stared at him and he stared back, but he didn’t think she was lusting after him the way he lusted after her, since she was probably thinking he was guilty of some kind of crime. Or maybe she thought he was guilty of a lot of sins that had nothing to do with the murder tonight.
He probably was.
“You need something?” she asked.
Loaded question. “Not really.”
“Then I need to go. I’m busy.”
She was brushing him off.
He wasn’t going to let her.
“Anna.”
“What?”
“I haven’t seen you in twelve years. Have a cup of coffee with me.”