“No.”
She grinned, sensing she’d already won this round. “So, how did it go last night? What’s the case?”
Novak opened the refrigerator and pulled out the carton of eggs. This was her second year away at school, but he still bought groceries in case she showed. He rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands. “A woman. Looks like she’s been dead about twenty-five years.”
“How do you know she’s been dead that long?”
“Right now it’s based on receipts in her purse and the state of her body.” These moments with Bella were now few and far between, and he knew, as she got older, he’d see less of her. He was sorry he’d not been here last night when she’d arrived, but he wasn’t sorry he’d been with Julia.
Bella had never shied away from case details. “How’d the victim die?”
He fished a bowl from the cabinet and cracked a few eggs while the pan heated. He whipped them up and poured them into the pan. “I’ll soon have a date with the medical examiner to find out.”
She sipped her coffee. “I wish I could come. Maybe I could drive back after classes on Friday and discuss the case like you did with Grandpa?”
He was proud of his girl. But he didn’t want this life for her. “Stay at school. Enjoy the weekend. Besides, I’m not crazy about you driving back and forth on the busy roads.” He pushed the eggs around until they were cooked, then served up most on a plate for her.
Bella accepted a fork and jabbed it into the eggs. “Who cares about weekend parties when there’s such an interesting case?”
He poured himself a cup of coffee. He liked it when they could have breakfast. “Be a kid while you can.”
She rolled her eyes. “Because by twenty-three you and Mom were married and I was on the way.”
“Exactly.” He wouldn’t have traded Bella for the parties or freedom, but parenthood was hard. It sure had been on his wife. He’d never figured out why his wife had snapped.
“I don’t need a college degree to be a uniformed officer.”
“You need a college degree. End of discussion.” His phone buzzed with a text. It was from Julia.
Let me know when Gallagher autopsy is scheduled. I’d like to attend.
A half smile tugged the edge of his lips as he typed back.
Will do.
“Is that a hot date?” she asked, watching him closely.
He shoved the phone in his back pocket. “It’s work.”
She pointed the end of her fork at him. “Your face looked like it could be a date.”
“It’s a date with an agent at the medical examiner’s office.”
“But she’s pretty, right?”
The kid was too sharp. “She is.”
Bella grinned. “Maybe you should ask her on a date. Have some fun. I’m out of the house. No more excuses.”
He ate the eggs on his plate. “How about we agree that you shouldn’t date until you’re thirty?”
“Right.”
When they were finished, he cleaned the dishes while she grabbed the laundry she’d done last night. When her car was loaded, he shoved fifty bucks into her hand, kissed her on the cheek, and reminded her to stay under fifty-five miles per hour.
“I’m not a baby, Dad.”
“You’ll never convince me of that.”
After Bella drove off, Novak’s thoughts turned immediately to the Gallagher case. He showered, changed, and drove to the office.
Novak exited the elevators and made his way to his desk, located in the center of a busy room with phones ringing and people talking. He shrugged off his coat and settled it on his chair. He kept his desk organized, files stacked and pencils sharpened. The lone personal item was a picture of Bella, taken when she was two.
His desk butted against his partner’s. Detective Samuel Riggs had muscled shoulders and a broad chest that hinted at his years playing football for Virginia Tech. Riggs dressed well, and his quick smile always caught the ladies’ attention. He was one of the sharpest minds in the department. At forty-one, he and Novak were the same age, but Riggs had no wife or kids. Wasn’t ready to retire from the field, as he liked to say.
Novak sat, checking messages. The arson investigator on the case would be on-site this morning at nine. The cadaver dog handler could also walk the property. He checked his watch. He called the handler and arranged for a nine fifteen meeting.
Riggs rounded the corner, approaching his desk with a fresh cup of coffee from the café across the street. A pressed blue shirt and red tie set off mocha skin. He smelled of expensive aftershave. “I heard about the bones.”
“Too bad you missed it.”
“Dealing with a shooting. Lucky me.” He set his cup on his desk and tugged at starched cuffs secured with gold links before sitting. “Is it true about you hooking up with Jim Vargas’s daughter?”
Novak had told no one about Julia, but that didn’t mean word hadn’t leaked out. He slowly looked up from a stack of messages. “Hooking up isn’t the right phrase for it.”
“You called her to the scene, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen her picture in the paper.” He whistled. “She’s smokin’.”
Very true. “And prickly when called to a homicide scene in the middle of the night.”
He chuckled. “Wouldn’t you be?”
“Maybe.” He unfastened his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves.
“Is it true about the picture in the victim’s wallet?” Riggs asked.
Word traveled fast. “Yep.”
“What’re the chances? How’d Vargas take it?”
“Difficult to get a read on her.”
“Had to be a kick in the balls. Did she know the victim?”
“She says no. But she was seven at the time of the victim’s death. You said you saw her picture in the paper. What do you know about her?”
“A buddy of mine told me she worked undercover in Virginia Beach. He said she had a solid record. Some have said she’s a natural like her old man.”
“Why did she leave?”
“I’m not sure if it was her choice. The last bust captured a shit-ton of drugs, but it went sideways, and she nearly died.”
“What happened?”
“One of the guys she was shadowing during the operation made her as a cop. Started beating her. There was some confusion about whether she was in trouble, and when the backup team finally busted the door, she was in bad shape. Had to take six weeks of paid leave to recover.”
He thought about her smooth pale skin. How sometimes she flinched a little when he touched her face. A rush of anger and outrage made it hard to keep his voice steady. “Bad shape, how?”
“Beaten up and then some. The paramedics wanted to order a rape kit, but she refused. Said it wasn’t necessary. They didn’t press, but my buddy said the cops had their doubts.”
“About a rape?”
“Yeah. But she denies it happened.”
Shit. He leaned back in his chair trying not to imagine Julia Vargas beaten and bloodied. Raped. She wore her pride like a mantle, and to think some animal had tried to strip that away. “Did she ever see a counselor?”