Exposed (Rosato & DiNunzio #5)(95)



“No, thanks. I gotta go call the cops. I love you.”

“Babe, I love you too. I’m sorry we fought.”

“Me too. Call you later.”

“Love you, bye.” Declan ended the call, and so did Bennie. She exhaled, got her emotional act together, then dialed the number for the Homicide Division, which she unfortunately knew by heart.

“This is Bennie Rosato, can you put me through to Detective Lindenhurst?” she asked, and she was put through immediately.

“This is Lindenhurst. Bennie, I’ve been expecting your call.”

“Did the local police contact you?”

“Yes, they did. They briefed me.”

“Have you released Simon?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not? The charges should be dropped. He didn’t commit the murder.”

“I can’t do that without a statement from you and Mary, in addition to our own investigation. We understand one of the suspects, Ray Matewicz, is alive. We need to talk to him.”

“You may have heard that Mary was very seriously injured. She’s in no shape to give a statement. I can give a statement for us both.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Detective Lindenhurst’s tone changed. “I like Mary very much.”

“She’ll be fine,” Bennie said, unsure if she was trying to convince him or herself. “Detective, if you’ve spoken with the locals you have more than enough information to release Simon. You don’t need to wait for Ray.”

“I’m afraid that’s not true. We have procedures to follow. I have to speak with the ADA and the DA.”

“Simon has a sick child and he needs to be with her. She needs her father. Her grandfather had a heart attack. I’m not going to stand around while you drag your feet.”

“I understand your position. We have to follow procedures and complete our investigation. We need you to come down and make a statement.”

“I already gave it to the locals. I told them everything. Can’t you get it from them?”

“No. We need one of our own. We need you to come down to the Roundhouse.”

“Why? I’m staying with Mary. I’m not leaving her. If you really need a statement, I can give it now, by phone.”

“We have procedures. After we have all our i’s dotted—”

“Release him,” Bennie said, beginning to get angry.

“We can’t do that. We just can’t open the door and let him out—”

“Yes you can, and you damn well better.” Bennie felt her temper give way, even if it wasn’t completely lawyerly. “Simon Pensiera is an innocent man. He was wrongly charged for murder by you. The men who killed Todd tried to kill me and Mary tonight. Is that enough for you? How much proof do you need?”

“Bennie, relax and—”

“Don’t you dare tell me to relax!” Bennie had never interrupted anyone so much. She was turning into Mary and she liked it. “If anything happens to Simon’s daughter while he’s wrongly in your custody, I will sue you personally, I will sue everybody in the Homicide Division, and I will sue the city of Philadelphia!”

“Wait, hold on—”

“No, you hold on!” Bennie exploded, taking out all of her rage and frustration on Detective Lindenhurst, which was his own damn fault. “I will garnish every cent you make until the day you retire and then I’ll take your pension! I will take your house and I will take your car! Do you hear me? I will not permit you to imprison my client when you know full well that he’s innocent! What part of I-will-ruin-you don’t you understand?”

“Bennie?” Karen called from the curtain, and Bennie didn’t know how long she’d been standing there.

“Karen, sorry.” Bennie covered the phone with her hand. “Was I making too much noise?”

“No, that’s not it.” Karen’s face fell. “Mary’s being Medevac’d to University of Penn Hospital in Philly.”

“Why?” Bennie asked, her heart aching.

“They can run tests that we can’t. They have a specialized trauma care unit, a neurological ICU.”

“Does she need surgery?” Bennie’s face twisted.

“I don’t know. They just told me to get you.”

“I want to go with her.”

“Fine, but we have to hurry.”

Bennie said into the phone, “Detective Lindenhurst, if you want a statement, I’ll be at the University of Pennsylvania Hospital. Good-bye.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Mary couldn’t seem to stay awake, she didn’t know why. Her head was killing her. She knew only that she had been in a noisy helicopter with new medical personnel and Bennie still holding on to her hand. She’d been only dimly aware when the helicopter landed and was met by another group of medical personnel who hustled her on her gurney onto a windy rooftop, then rushed her through hospital corridors with everyone running alongside her shouting to one another, holding IV bags of blood and saline, and rolling equipment on stalks.

Bennie never let go. She ran faster than all of them.

They ended up in another examination room, where they examined her all over again, stitching up the back of her head. They gave her an ultrasound at her bedside, then swept her off to a CAT scan, after which they told her what was wrong. She had an epidural hematoma, a blood clot caused by blunt trauma. They were trying to decide if she needed surgery, evaluating as tests were performed.

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