Free Brooklyn's Song by Sydney Arrison Page B

covered her with a colorful afghan that was laying on a recliner. He softly caressed the side of her face then tuned out the light. He made sure the door was locked behind him and took the elevator down to the lobby. He smiled as he drove. It had been awhile since he felt such an intense attraction. He dated Hunter, but he had known from the start that it really wasn’t going anywhere. They were both lonely and rushed into it too soon. He rolled the window down and thought it was strange he could still smell Brooklyn’s perfume. He laughed after realizing the scent was on his jacket.

Chapter 26
    The crime lab ran the fingerprints found on the gun that was recovered from the duffle bag. As expected, Private Jones’s prints were found on the gun. What was unexpected was a second set of fingerprints belonging to Dino Franchetti. Franchetti owned a chain of upscale florist shops and had even run for mayor. Thirty years ago he was arrested for solicitation and a minor drug offense which is why his prints were in the system.
    Song and Mattice were waiting to interview Dino in the lobby of his corporate office, Franchetti Florists LTD. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. A woman dressed in a skintight white spandex dress and five inch black stilettos walked towards Song and Mattice.
    “Holy moly!” Mattice whispered.
    She sat down on a chair across from them, crossed her legs and said, “Good morning, detectives, I’m Mr. Franchetti’s personal assistant Mrs. Cara; how may I help you?”
    “Good morning, Mrs. Cara, we were hoping to speak with Mr. Franchetti,” Mattice said.
    She let out a dry laugh. “I’m afraid, that’s not possible; Mr. Franchetti is a rather busy man. If you like, I’m sure his secretary can set you up with an appointment.”
    “This is a very urgent police matter; we really need to speak with him,” Mattice insisted.
    “Detective, I already told you that’s not going to happen.”
    “Listen, Mrs. Cara, Mr. Franchetti can either talk to us now or at the station,” Song said.
    She stared at Song for a second as if she was trying to figure out the best way to respond. Then she got up and turned her back to Mattice and Song as she pulled out her phone. They couldn’t make out what she was saying, but when Song saw her shoulders slump, he knew that he and Mattice had won the battle.
    “Please follow me,” she said, curtly.
    The three of them were taking the elevator up to the tenth floor. Mrs. Cara kept her eyes fixed on the status numbers at the top of the elevator.”
    “So, Mrs. Cara, how long have you been working for Mr. Franchetti’?” Mattice asked.
    She let out a loud sigh. “Is this part of your investigation?”
    “No, I’m just curious,” Mattice replied.
    “‘I’ve been with the company a little over two years.”
    The elevator came to a halt. Mrs. Cara exited. Song and Mattice were right behind her. She stopped in front of a walnut double paneled door, pulled it open and gestured for them to go inside. Mr. Franchetti, a medium build man with ink black hair was dressed in a white polo shirt and Khakis. He held a putter in his hand and was in the process of swinging at a golf ball when Mattice and Song entered the office.
    “Detectives, please have a seat,” he said, as he watched the ball rolling down the green mat. It stopped right outside the circle.
    “Shit!” he shouted.
    Mrs. Cara, looking a tad embarrassed, eased out of the room and closed the door.
    Mr. Franchetti placed the putter in a golf bag, poured himself a drink and sat down at his desk.
    “Would you like a drink?”
    “No we’re good. We realize you’re a busy man,” Mattice said, sarcastically as he made a point to look over at the golfing mat, “But we have a few questions to ask you.”
    “You got me,” Franchetti said, with a forced laugh, “I have a passion for golf and try to get a game in every day. It’s a relaxing sport. Do either of you play?”
    “Does mini golf count?”