Page 72 of Triggered By Love
The fingerprints taken off the chocolate box matched the ones he got from Tatiana Renzi’s apartment.
Larry Leach, or Mr. Wraparound, had been in the vicinity of Avery’s apartment this afternoon. It was time to pay him a visit.
Twenty minutes later, Jason flashed his badge to the doorman of a high-rise tower decorated with gold plating. Its lobby included an atrium, fountains of water, and an escalator that appeared to be a stairway through a cloud ascending to a golden heaven.
The doorman alerted Larry that Jason was on his way to question him about a beating he might have witnessed.
Larry remarked, “New York is full of beatings. Why would the detective believe I know anything about it?”
“I have witnesses who place you at the scene of Lushpuppies when Garm Guillory’s brother, Saul, was beaten,” Jason said. “I’m the investigating officer, and this will be quick if you have an alibi.”
“Come on up,” Larry said. “I have nothing to hide.”
That was what the overconfident crooks always said. There was a reason why their lawyers popped nitroglycerin like breath mints. Larry’s curiosity, a huge red flag, was sure to win out over caution.
Larry answered the door. He was wearing a tracksuit and snazzy running shoes. His sweat band was wet, suggesting he’d returned from a run in the park. He wasn’t wearing his trademark sunglasses, and Jason noted his light-brown eyes appeared washed out, framed by even lighter eyelashes, giving him an almost alien expression.
“This will be quick,” Jason said as a way to gain entry.
“I’m sure you won’t mind if I don’t offer you a drink,” Larry said. “Why would a detective of your caliber be investigating a street beating?”
“You were seen in the vicinity.”
“I was at Lushpuppies that night, but I was long gone before that punk got sent to the hospital.”
“I’d like to get a timeline,” Jason said. Larry had made his second mistake—that of knowing what had happened to Saul, the supposed punk. “When did you arrive at Lushpuppies that night? Who did you meet? What did you see when you left?”
Larry poured himself a drink and paced to his window. “I’m not sure it would help. Like I said, I was long gone.”
“At what time?”
Larry gave the time and shrugged. “You see? Gone.”
“Alibi for the rest of the evening?”
“No, but why are you questioning me?”
“Because of this.” He raised the plastic shopping bag and extracted the box of chocolates. “The woman you spoke to that night received an unmarked box of chocolates.”
Larry’s feral eyes widened a split second, but he covered nicely by blinking. “You’re wasting my time. I’ve never seen that box of chocolates, and I have no idea what woman you’re talking about.”
“The woman is Saul Guillory’s friend. Saul’s brother, Garm, was found dead in an alley outside of a fundraiser for a political candidate. The woman was also the target of a hit at the same coffee shop Saul works at.” Jason gave the slim man a once-over and lowered his gaze to the high-priced cross-trainer shoes. “One question. Can you outrun me?”
“Of course, I can outrun you, Detective Burnett,” Larry replied with a snakelike hiss. “Too bad for you, I have an alibi for the time of the coffee shop incident. I was with my father at a design seminar he was giving at the fashion institute. Many people saw me there.”
“Anyone who knows Avery Cockburn, the woman you gave the chocolates to?”
“You’re grasping at straws trying to tie me to the attempted hit and run,” Larry said. “The news says the target was Matt Swanson, not Avery Cockburn. If you must know, which I’m sure you already know, Avery is my friend.”
“Humor me,” Jason said. “Was there anyone at the design seminar besides you and your father who knows Avery?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Larry asked. He swallowed the rest of his gin and tonic.
“Humor me,” Jason repeated. The second request usually worked, because the witness was now realizing he was without a lawyer. At this moment, he wished Jason would leave, so a simple request was likely to be fulfilled.
“Sure.” He rattled off a list of names—mostly design students. One stuck out like a sore thumb, actually two did.
Ivanna Chu and Richie Overton.
