Free Fly With Fire by Frances Randon Page A

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my star, but like a daughter to me. Thank you! Mayor Tyler is so kind. He must
think so much of Monica. She is a wonderful lady. My sad little star, don’t
cry.” He cuddled her close making soothing sounds.
    “Detective Burnham was kind
enough to stay last night.” That got a look from Claude. One eyebrow raised. A
bit of a pucker gave him a sour look. Mo rested her head on Roddy’s shoulder.
“They gave me the presidential suite, if you can believe that. How is
everybody? How’s everybody holding up? What about the show?” She sat straight
up. “What’s going to happen to the show, Roddy?
    “It too crazy right now to
say. We are postpone for now. Investigators all over coliseum. We don’t know
when funeral, when they release her. Her body.” It was clear the manager had
gotten no sleep. He sighed and hugged Mo. “Her mama in California. She is not
well, cannot travel. Her poppa, you know, Momo.  Her poppa passed away.
She ask me to make arrangements, gave me power of, of attorney?” He looked at
Zack.
    “That’s right. You’ll have to
make arrangements for transporting her. Your attorney will explain everything
when he or she gets here. Look, Ms. Whitman is freezing, her feet are soaked.
I’m going to go see when she’ll be able to get her things. Why don’t you take
her up to her room? I’m going to check in with Mayor Tyler. He’s very
interested in supporting your company through this difficult time.  You
let me know if there’s any way we can help. Stay with her, Roddy, I’m sorry,
Mr.?”
    “D’Mario, but you call me
Roddy. Everybody call me Roddy.” He pecked at Mo’s head and helped her to her
feet. “I take her. Come, Momo.” Claude looked at Zack with an annoyed grimace
and kissing Mo’s hand, sauntered off.
    “I’ll be right up, Roddy. You
can call me Zack.” He pulled his cell phone out and luckily was able to leave a
message on the mayor’s voicemail. The last thing he wanted was to have to talk
to the mayor again. He left an update of what he knew so far and waited by the
elevator. He heard rifts of conversation. While people were talking about the
murder, everything else seemed to have returned to normal as if a twenty two
year old girl had not had her head bashed in just a few floors up.
    Zack took the elevator up to
the fourteenth floor. At the door of Mo’s room stood a security guard. Nice of
Greendale police to make sure professionals were on the job, thought Zack with
a shake of his head. “Hey, anyone inside?”
    “Who the hell are you?” The
guard stood lazily against the wall. He was short but hefty. Zack guessed a
former wrestler from the way his biceps bulged from his short, blue uniform
sleeves.
    “Zack Burnham, Chicago
Police.” He flipped his badge. “Mayor Tyler has assigned me to keep an eye on
the woman who occupied this room. She needs some of her things.
    “I don’t work for Mayor
Tyler.” He crossed his arms and stood more erect drawing himself up to his full
height. Five eight, 230. Not that Zack was looking for a scuffle. “I was told
no one goes in or out. Lady’s gonna have to go shopping.”
    “She just needs a few things,
some clothes and her toiletries. You can watch what I take. What’s she supposed
to do go naked because someone was rude enough to kill her friend in her room?”
Zack eyed the security guard. Little pit bull was standing his ground, chin up,
small hazel eyes glaring authority. “Alright, let me give a call. Al Simpson
will want to know whose doing their jobs and who’s getting in the way. Tell ya
what, you can ask Al yourself.” He pulled out his phone and started to dial.
    “I got my orders from Greendale
police. No one said anything about Chicago police going in for undies.” He
looked less certain as Zack raised the phone to his ear. “I guess if I watch,
make sure you don’t take anything important…”
    “Pal, believe me, they took
everything important.” The guard keyed the door and followed