Page 3 of Craving Vengeance
The detectives returned to the precinct. It was nearly 7:00 a.m. Marsh made coffee as Spinelli hung pictures of the unidentified cupid on the crime board. He looked at Walker, “Not a good way to start Valentine’s Day, having to tell everyone Cupid’s been murdered.”
Walker chuckled. “Yeah, now there’s absolutely no hope at all for those poor souls searching for true love.”
Marsh walked up and handed Spinelli and Walker their coffee mugs. Spinelli wrapped his freezing hands around the mug. His fingers began to thaw. Another minute or so and the feeling might actually come back.
All three detectives stared at the photos on the board.
“You know, the guy looks like he’s about six feet tall or so and in great physical shape. It probably wouldn’t have been easy for someone to manhandle him one-on-one. And there’s no evidence of a struggle, either at the scene or on the body itself. The guy looks like he just fell asleep in a snow bank,” Walker commented.
Spinelli yawned and skimmed his hand over his face. He didn’t like getting up early. The nerve of someone, murdering Cupid on Valentine’s Day before 8:00 a.m.
Spinelli cocked his head to the side. “I bet he was poisoned.” The others looked at him and nodded.
“It would be nice to get the pathologist’s report. Spinelli, why don’t you go down there and sweet talk Bethany into putting a rush on this case?” Marsh urged as a cocky smile stretched across his face.
Spinelli scowled at Marsh. He was probably the last person the department’s pathologist wanted to see. He’d only gone out with Bethany a couple of times, but evidently, she thought much more of the short relationship than he had. Now every time Spinelli had to deal with Bethany, she was colder to him than the mortuary cold chambers.
Spinelli’s cell phone buzzed. He pulled it from his hip, tapped the screen, and pressed it to his ear. “Uh-huh, okay. Hold on a second. Let me flip you on speaker so Walker and Marsh can hear.”
They gathered around Spinelli’s phone. The officer working the front desk continued talking, “We’ve got a young woman down here looking for her brother. She hasn’t seen him since last night around 11:30. Judging from the description she gave, I thought he could be your John Doe from this morning. She brought a picture of him with her.”
“I’ll be right out,” Spinelli replied before he ended the call.
Spinelli made his way to the waiting area. He glanced at the uniformed officer working the front desk who pointed at a woman seated in the first row of chairs. She stared out the window. Her hands nervously fondled the shoulder strap of the purse resting on her lap. She looked to be in her early thirties. Her dark brown hair was pulled back and bound at the nape of her neck, allowing him full access to her face. He knew already that the dead cupid was her brother. She resembled him. God, how he hated this part—having to deal with the survivors. He always got such an adrenaline rush when he nabbed the killers—he lived for it—but looking into the eyes of the survivors nearly kicked his ass every time.
He stepped toward the woman. His movement caught her attention, and she looked up at him through her long, thick lashes. Worry flashed in her eyes. She rose to her feet. Spinelli extended his hand toward her. “I’m Detective Spinelli. What can I do for you?”
“I’m Cindy Carter. I’m looking for my brother. I think something happened to him. He didn’t come home last night,” she said as she reached into the side pocket of her purse and pulled out a small photo.
Spinelli made no movement to take the photo. He already knew.
“Why don’t you come with me, and you can tell me about your brother.” The woman nodded and followed him back to the detective area where Marsh and Walker waited. Spinelli glanced at their crime board.
The pictures of Cupid had been removed. They walked past the board and into the interview room.
Spinelli gestured toward a chair and Cindy took a seat. He sat across the table from her. Walker and Marsh pulled up chairs as well. “Ms. Carter, this is Detective Marsh and Detective Walker. Can you tell us about your brother and why you think he’s missing?”
“My brother’s name is Mike. He’s been living with me for the past several months because he was downsized out of his job about six months ago. Anyway, last night he left the house at about 11:30 p.m. which was unusual on its own, but it’s even stranger for him not to come home at all.”
Walker leaned forward. “How old is your brother?”
“Twenty-eight. I know what you must be thinking, but it’s just not like him not to come home.” Her eyes pleaded for belief.
Walker continued the questioning. “Did he say where he was going when he left last night?”
“Like I said, I thought it was odd that he’d be leaving at 11:30, so I asked him where he was going, and he just said out.”
“Was he acting strange?” Marsh asked.
Cindy shook her head.
“What did he do before he became unemployed?” Walker questioned.
“He was a numbers analyst for a brokerage firm downtown.”
Cindy pulled the photo from the side pocket of her purse and handed it to Walker. Spinelli and Marsh craned their necks to glance at the photo as well. It was Cupid all right, minus the wings, and bow and arrows. Mike looked all business-like in the photo, wearing a gray suit, white shirt, and red tie.
After a brief conversation with Ms. Carter, Spinelli knew Walker and Marsh were of like mind. She didn’t have a clue as to what happened to her brother, nor any knowledge about any life-threatening activities in which he may have been involved.
