Free Dead Spaces: The Big Uneasy 2.0 by Pauline Baird Jones

parents are the only other common connection,” Ferris said, managing the tact pretty well, though Alex didn’t look happy. “So far. I know you’ve probably been asked this, but can you think of anyone from the past? An older friend of your parents? Even an overheard name? In theory, they cut off all contact, but in real life? I would think that would be hard to maintain.”
    “A name connected with a feeling of unease perhaps?” Hannah added when Nell frowned and shook her head.
    “Everyone in my life was there, where we lived, but I’ll give it some thought. It’s like I have memories of what I thought was real and the adjustment, well, it’s challenging.” Nell sighed, then looked up. “So they just took the papers? Not the gun?”
    She’d forgotten there was a handgun found with the papers. Hannah hesitated. “The ring is also missing.”
    “The ring? My—St. Cyr’s mob ring?” Once again her shock looked real.
    “That’s crazy. It’s not the One Ring, for Pete’s sake. It was just an ugly symbol of his nasty power,” Nell protested.
    Was it? There didn’t seem to be any connection between her uncle’s school ring and the mob ring of power, except that both had been worth stealing. Hannah felt guilty withholding that bit of information, until she reminded herself—again—that none of them were on the case. And she hadn’t logged the ring. Her insides twisted uncomfortably. She felt Ferris’ gaze on her, a hint of warning in it. It was done. She had to live with knowing she did it.
    And that whoever stole it knew it, too.
----
    G uido stood staring down at his uncle’s body. How small he looked. How dead. He’d wondered how he’d feel in this moment, when the waiting was finally over. When he got it all. It was something of a surprise to realize he would miss Bett. A little. They’d trusted each other as much as was possible. Bett had raised Guido to want his power and had used his power to keep Guido in check. They’d both lived their lives watching their backs. Knowing that the other did not have their back.
    No one could be trusted.
    Ever.
    He looked at the morgue attendant. “There is a list of my uncle’s personal effects?” He’d seen the ring on Bett’s hand this morning. Had not found it in his desk, so he must have been wearing it when he left the house. He wouldn’t be able to get it until they released the body, he supposed—
    The attendant handed him the list. He perused it quickly. His lips tightened. If someone had liberated it at the scene, he’d find out soon enough and make them regret it. Wouldn’t be a shock if someone picked his pockets after the hit. But—Bett’s wallet hadn’t been taken. Why just the ring gone?
    “When I go, Guido, make sure you secure the ring,” Bett had insisted, more than once twisting the ring on his finger—something he did often. Guido had assumed his uncle did it as an act of pleasure. It was symbol of his power. Had it been something, meant something more? Had Bett believed it meant more? Or was his obsession with it a sign he was losing his grip? Guido did not spend too much time thinking about his uncle’s past, about how he, St. Cyr and Afoniki had obtained their “inheritances” from Zafiro. It was all so long ago. How could it matter now?
    Secrets had always swirled around Bett, but the flow had felt tidal since Nell Whitby was revealed as Bett’s blood granddaughter. There were signs Bett had considered promoting a marriage between Guido and Nell—until he met her. In the end, he had not been convinced Nell was blood of his blood. Guido had not opposed the idea of marriage. He would need an heir, of course. Luckily women did not repulse him. It would not do—he looked at his uncle once more and wondered if he’d ever suspected the broad-ranging nature of Guido’s preferences. It didn’t seem likely. There were other cousins he could have groomed to take over. And Guido had been careful. Very careful. Even now he