Free Shadows by Edna Buchanan Page A

the cellar all these years later. The high-rise would go up and the babies would be buried forever under thousands of tons of concrete. Nobody in the outside world would know they were ever born.
    â€œWe need to move fast,” she told Burch. “Reporters from Channel Four and the Miami News are pushing PIO. Word leaked out that we found human remains at the Shadows. They want the story. I’m trying to stall a press release. When it gets out, the story will probably get a lot of coverage.”
    â€œIn this case it might do some good,” Burch said. “Might bring in some leads. Somebody had to know something about those girls being pregnant.”
    â€œOr it could put us in the middle of a media frenzy. You need to talk to the widow and the daughters before that happens.”
    â€œOne of them probably killed him,” Burch said. “Or maybe it was a family project. Hell of a thing. Imagine what those females went through for years. Looks like Pierce Nolan was a goddamn monster.”

CHAPTER 5
    Nazario closed the door to the small interview room. Within seconds, it inched back open. No one came out.
    â€œSee, the broad don’t like being alone with any guy,” Corso said. “Has to tell you something.”
    Nazario emerged forty-five minutes later.
    â€œTalk to me.” Burch looked up from the Nolan file spread out across the conference room table.
    â€œShe’s telling the truth,” Nazario said. “She had no idea what we’d find down there.”
    â€œI knew his shit detector didn’t work on good-looking women,” Corso crowed. “I knew it.”
    Nazario ignored him. “Kiki’s claustrophobic, Sarge. Barely tolerates elevators, doesn’t like planes, hates small rooms with no windows.” He rolled his sad spaniel eyes toward the interview room. “That’s why she didn’t go down the cellar stairs with us.”
    â€œMakes sense,” Riley acknowledged.
    â€œShe explain her little rap sheet?” Burch asked.
    â€œShe was arrested twice. Edelman was clearing property for a shopping center in the Grove when protesters formed a human chain around a huge, hundred-year-old banyan tree his crew was about to cut down. They were all arrested. She was one of them.”
    â€œA tree hugger, too!” Corso said.
    â€œHardly a public menace,” Stone said.
    â€œThey call that ecoterrorism,” Corso protested.
    â€œHer other arrest was during a protest over on the Beach,” Nazario explained. “An art deco hotel was being knocked down so the late Gianni Versace, who owned the building next door, could dig himself a private pool. Both peaceful protests.”
    â€œSometimes that’s the only way to change the law or send a message,” Stone said, drawing a sharp look from Riley.
    â€œWhen you said we’d found a body, she thought you meant the old rumrunner. Remember, he disappeared, lost at sea or something, in the mid-thirties, after Prohibition.”
    â€œOkay, okay,” Burch said. He realized he’d never had lunch. It was nine P . M . No wonder he felt irritable. “One more thing. Did she mention a Fergie and Di?”
    â€œDogs. Fergie is her Yorkie,” Nazario said, his expression serious. “Di is a papillon.”
    â€œA what?”
    â€œSome kind a fancy little dog.”
    â€œYou mean like that one that wears bathing suits with rhinestones—you know, Tinkerbell, Paris Hilton’s little dog?” Corso said.
    â€œNah.” Stone frowned. “Tinkerbell’s a Chihuahua.”
    â€œSomebody from PETA ought to launch a mission to rescue that poor creature,” Riley said.
    â€œRight,” Salazar said. “The woman wears that dog as an accessory. Saw it on her lap during a TV interview once. The poor thing couldn’t stop trembling.”
    â€œTinkerbell makes a run for it every chance she gets,” Riley said, “trying to