Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [780]
In the time it took to walk from the car door to the door of the convenience store Andrew contemplated his alternatives. Why not give Jared a quick shove and take off running? He was in good shape, at least up until he broke his collarbone. Andrew stood at least three inches taller, but Jared looked much leaner. Yet even with the throbbing in his head Andrew wanted to take his chances. What did he have to lose?
He took one last look at the side streets lined with houses. That was good, backyards and alleys. The main street was too open. To his back Andrew knew the highway separated them from a parking lot. Not good. And behind the convenience store Andrew guessed the slice of fence he could see probably ran along the whole lot. The houses across the street were his best bet.
Now he just needed to shove him hard enough to push him over. Maybe into the newspaper machines. That might slow him down. Andrew watched from behind his dark glasses. Jared was right beside him. A couple more steps. Already his heart banged against his rib cage in anticipation. One quick shove. He could do this.
That’s when the door to the convenience store opened and a woman and her toddler came out. And Andrew realized he’d have to wait.
CHAPTER 47
11:46 a.m.
Detective Tommy Pakula found the house after driving in and out of about a half dozen culs-de-sac. He hated these new housing developments that were built on confusion and sold as privacy. He’d take his South Omaha home any day, where a neighborhood was still a block.
As he walked to the front door, he took a good look at the neighborhood and wondered how Tina Cervante could afford this huge split-timber. Even sharing the expenses with two roommates, the rent had be double what one of the higher-end apartments in the area would cost. He remembered the girl’s autopsy, the pricey manicure and pedicure, the nose job. From what he had discovered about her parents—her father was a mechanic for a Dallas trucking company and her mother an assistant manager for a Red Lobster restaurant—he doubted that, although they made decent money, they had any to spare, especially with four more kids still at home.
He knocked on the ornate front door, still trying to figure it out. Maybe one of the other girls had some family money. Maybe this house was a tax write-off for one of the other parents. Maybe it was just Pakula being his suspicious self.
The young woman who answered the door looked like a Britney Spears wannabe, only her midriff hung out of the tight, cropped T-shirt and the dark roots gave away her true hair color.
“Are you Danielle Miller?”
She ran her fingers through her tangled hair and yawned, not bothering to cover her mouth. “Yeah, are you here to fix the air conditioner? You’re a bit late. We could have used you two days ago when we called the first time.”
Pakula wanted to laugh; he had been worried Tina’s roommates would be too distraught to even talk. As it turned out, Danielle was more upset about the fucking A/C being out than her old roommate ending up splattered all over the bank’s floor.
“No, Miss Miller, I’m afraid I don’t know much about air-conditioning units.” Pakula dug in his jacket for his shield as she rolled her eyes at him, and just as she was deciding he was some door-to-door salesman, he flipped the badge for her to take a look. “I’m Detective Pakula with the OPD. I’d like to talk to you about Tina Cervante.”
“Oh, you mean about the thing at the bank yesterday.”
“Yeah, the thing at the bank,” he repeated, trying not to show his impatience. She reminded him too much of his oldest daughter, Angie, although she was a bit younger than Danielle Miller. Same generation, though, and that same lazy use of the English language, same carefree attitude.
“Whadya wanna know?”
“Just some basic stuff. You mind if I come in for a few