gun.”
Basia said no more and walked into her bathroom and slammed the door shut. He may think he’s won, she thought, but it was exactly what she wanted him to think.
Chapter Eight
Riley arrived at the precinct but Basia wasn’t there. He knew he couldn’t hold her in his arms or sneak a kiss by the coffeepot, but he’d hoped she’d be there. Riley shrugged his thoughts and chuckled within. Flashbacks of her, naked in his bed, crossed his mind before he heard Kennedy’s voice.
“Morning, Briggs”
Riley turned with the coffeepot in his hand and nodded to Kennedy. He raised the pot to motion to Kennedy if he wanted a cup. Kennedy nodded. Riley missed the street action. The cold cases of missing persons had made him the office coffee maker. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend his days. At least the case he’d reopened the day before intrigued him. There appeared to be further digging involved and that he was thankful for. He needed to know more about the O’Donnell brothers; more so, the man he shot and what happened to his girlfriend.
Kennedy interrupted Riley about mid-morning. “More coffee, Briggs?”
“Perfect timing, Kennedy; let’s grab a coffee near that rundown brownstone?”
Riley raised an eyebrow.
“You still stuck on that brownstone?”
Riley ignored Kennedy’s question. He wasn’t stuck on anything, he trusted his gut. His gut had led him to more leads.
“Beth’s place of employment, and the last place she’d been seen, is a little diner around the corner from the brownstone. The report states she went home sick early that day.”
Riley grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.
“Lots of people leave their jobs early when they’re sick,” Kennedy added. Riley shook his head. This idiot really needs to get out of this office more.
“I’ll fill you in later. I think I might know what made her sick, but first I want to verify a few things at the diner.”
He passed by Kennedy, who now appeared intrigued. Riley had done some research on poisons. He’d remembered Adam’s book title and researched symptoms associated with poisons. Riley wondered if Adam Crawford was doing more than collecting rent and writing about the perfect poison. The recent deaths at the brownstone were reported as natural causes, but their symptoms could have been related to being poisoned. The mention of Beth being sick made him wonder if she’d had the same symptoms as the other dead tenants, but without a body it couldn’t be determined.
The diner was about as rundown as the brownstone.
“Definitely wouldn’t eat in here. It’s probably why Beth went home sick,” Kennedy announced after they entered the diner, and then added, “Do you think the coffee is safe?”
Riley gave him a pissed-off look. “Just take a seat and drink it.”
A waitress passed and Riley ordered two coffees. She returned with the coffeepot in one hand and two mugs in the other. Riley flashed the picture of Beth. “Do you know this woman?”
“I just started here last week. She doesn’t look familiar.”
“Is the owner or manager here? Or someone who’s worked here longer than you?” Riley questioned. The young girl looked alarmed. Riley apologized and flashed his badge.
“I’m sorry. I’m Detective Briggs and this is Detective Kennedy. We’re following up on a missing person’s report of this woman. She worked here.”
The young waitress looked relieved but uninterested. “The owner isn’t here right