Betrayed (Rosato & DiNunzio, #2)(9)

“What’s up, babe!” Frank shouted, when the call connected. The background was noisy shouting and laughing, punctuated by the thwap thwap thwap of basketballs hitting a gym floor.

“Where are you? Did you get my messages?” Judy tried to swallow her annoyance. He hadn’t listened to her messages, because he never did, which drove her crazy.

“I can’t, I’m filling in on a round-robin tournament!”

“You’re not supposed to be playing basketball.” Judy didn’t bother to disguise her dismay. Frank had broken his hand on the job and was wearing a cloth brace for two more weeks.

“Don’t sweat it, babe! It’s not a problem!”

“Frank, think. Of course it’s a problem. It’s crazy.”

“Don’t worry! I know what I’m doing! I shoot with my right hand!”

“Are you serious? What if your hand gets bumped? Or you fall? What about your brace?”

“I removed it! That’s why it’s removable!” Frank burst into laughter, which got drowned out by wild cheering. “It’s an emergency!”

“A basketball emergency?”

“Relax, Mom!”

“I am relaxed.” Judy tried not to act like his mother, but it was difficult when he acted like a child. “And what about the dog? Could the vet dip her?”

“I couldn’t take her because the guys needed me, Joey got sick! I can’t talk now! We’re about to hit the court! Call you later!”

“No, wait, listen.” Judy worried she would be overheard by her mother or Aunt Barb, so she got up and walked around the couch, cupping her hand over her phone. “I won’t be home tonight. I’m staying at Aunt Barb’s—”

“What did you say? I can’t hear you!”

Judy went to the front door, twisted the knob, and went outside, closing the door behind her. It had gotten dark and cold, but she hugged herself. “Aunt Barb’s cancer is stage II—”

“Babe!” Frank shouted, impatient. “Can’t you talk louder? There’s too much noise! I can’t hear you, I gotta go!”

“This is important!” Judy gritted her teeth. “I want to talk to you about—”

“Sorry, babe, I really gotta go! We’re up! Text me!” The line went dead.

Judy pressed END, but wasn’t ready to go inside. She sank onto the front step, holding on to her phone while Frank’s photo faded from the screen. She eyed the sky, in thought. There was no moon tonight, only a starless black blanket that illuminated nothing. She’d learned today that life really was short, and it wasn’t just a cliché. Her biological clock was ticking, and she wondered if she was as happy as she used to be with Frank. He was so terrific and fun when times were easy, but in the rough patches, he seemed to fade away. She didn’t know if he was selfish or if she’d just trained him wrong, being basically independent. And she didn’t know if she had to do anything about it, necessarily.

Suddenly, her attention was drawn by a black police cruiser driving slowly down the street, its high beams on. It paused at the houses, then stopped in front of her aunt’s house.

Judy straightened up, surprised. The cruiser’s powerful engine rumbled into silence, and two uniformed officers emerged, alighting from the driver’s side and passenger seats. The cops met in front of her aunt’s house, then walked up her walkway toward the front door. Judy couldn’t see their features in the dim light, but they made similar silhouettes, about the same size and build. She rose to greet them. “Hello, Officers, can I help you?”

“Good evening, I’m Officer Bart Hoffman, and this is my partner Officer Paul Ramirez of the East Grove Police Department. Are you Barb Moyer?”

“No,” Judy answered. “That’s my aunt.”

“Is she here?” Officer Hoffman’s jaw set in a grim line, but that was all Judy could see of him under the patent bill of his cap.

“Yes, she’s inside.”

“We’ll need to talk to her.”





Chapter Five

The policemen stood in front of the couch, their black Windbreakers and thick black gun-and-radio belts incongruous in the chintzy vibe of the cottage. Both men had taken off their black caps and held them almost identically, in the crook of their elbows.

Judy gestured. “Aunt Barb, this is Officer Hoffman and Officer Ramirez. Gentlemen, Barb Moyer, and my mother, Delia Carrier.”

“Ladies, pleased to meet you.” Officer Hoffman was the older of the two, forty-something with cool slate-blue eyes and a skinny face, his hair buzzed into an old-school cut. Officer Ramirez was much younger, with warm brown eyes, a wide-open face, and light acne scars pitting his cheeks. He was bald but it looked as if he shaved his head, not came by it naturally.

“So, Officers,” Aunt Barb said, blinking. “What can I do for you?”

“We’d like to talk to you for a moment or two.” Officer Hoffman nodded. “Do you mind if we sit down?”

“Not at all. Please, have a seat.” Aunt Barb eased into the club chair, and Judy stood next to her, hovering protectively at her elbow.

Officer Hoffman cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, but we have to inform you that we found Rita Lopez deceased this evening, in her vehicle in East Grove. The coroner hasn’t yet determined the cause of death, but it appears that it was a natural death, a heart attack. Please accept our condolences.”