21st Birthday James Patterson (best e ink reader for manga .txt) 📖

“That’s her,” said Cindy. “And Misty says, yah, Lucas put it in writing.”

I asked, “And you believed her?”

Cindy reached for her bag and pulled out a note hand-printed on a pink index card. She flashed it so we could see the writing and then, read it out loud.

“Dear Misty, I’m in love with you. I promise that I will be free and we will be able to get married by the end of the school year.

“Love, Luke.”

I said, “Is it dated?”

“Nope.”

“Well, take a picture of that, will you, Cindy, and send it to me. Off the record.” I winked. “I want to compare it with his signature on his DMV file.”

She growled playfully, took the picture and sent it to me. I wondered if she would show it to Rich later, how my partner would react to my cutting him out.

Then I asked our so-called girl reporter, “So what do you think, Cindy? That Lucas killed his wife to be with Misty?”

“What do you think?” she asked me.

“I think it’s lechery,” Yuki said with conviction. “It’s not evidence of anything criminal. But it could be a match to a fuse if Tara got wind of it. Or what if Lucas flat out told her? If he even needed to—Tara is only twenty years old.”

“If I’m Tara,” I said, “that’s grounds to clear out the safe, grab the baby, and just take off.”

Cindy said, “And doesn’t tell her mother? I’ll tell you what I think. Lucas Burke needs a good cop-beating under hot lights.”

Claire said, “Too many old cop movies, Cindy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay. Here’s my plan. We’re running Tara and Lorrie’s photos in the paper and online tonight. Tyler’s putting up a twenty-five-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to finding them. I’m just letting you know, Linds. There may be a lot of phone traffic tomorrow.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “Whatever it takes.”

“Is there anything you can do to turn up the heat?”

I sighed, shook my head no, thinking again of Clapper telling me to stay out of it.

Then I thought of the report I needed to write. “Can you send me the photos?”

Cindy picked up her phone and then it got so quiet at the table we could hear every conversation in the room. Quarterly meeting in the booth behind us. First date in the booth in front. Drunken laughter at the table to the left.

I have a young child at home and so does Claire, so we asked for the check and broke up dinner early, no excuses required. We all hugged and said good night.

I thought about the Burke family during the entire drive home.

Chapter 13

Joe was in his big chair with Julie in his lap, lying against his chest. Our aging border collie, Martha, was at his feet.

I said, “Don’t get up.”

Sweet Martha got up anyway and then Julie squirmed to her feet and I hugged them both on the way to my husband. I leaned down and kissed him and he pulled me down into his now empty lap.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing. I’ll tell you later.”

Julie held up a greeting card with a hand-drawn rainbow and a dog that looked a little like Martha on the front.

“Mommy. Lookit this!”

“Let me see.”

“It’s from Franny!”

“Oh, wow, honey. That’s so cool.”

Franny is Francesca, Joe’s adult daughter from his first marriage. She lives in Rome, and after her mother died recently, she came here to see Joe, and to meet her little half sister, Julie. Big surprise to us all, but a good one.

My little girl showed me the envelope with her name and address printed in blue. When I took a closer look at the card, I saw a few Italian words between the bands of the rainbow.

“Can you read this, Mommy?”

“It says…Ciao Bella.”

She said “Ciao Bella” along with me and I had to laugh. I said, “It means, ‘Hello, pretty.’ Sweet, huh?”

She nodded vigorously.

They’d had spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, a favorite meal at the Molinari household. Now Daddy needed some computer time, so after I showered and dressed in pajamas, I snuggled up with my little kiddo, a glass of Chardonnay, and a pint of pralines and cream and we watched a sitcom on TV.

I sneaked looks at her, wondering at her innocence and easy laughter, trying to remember if I had been like Julie when I was her age. Nothing came to me. By the first commercial break her eyelids closed, and I whispered, “Time for bed, Julie Bugs.”

She yawned and put her arms around my neck and I carried my nearly four-year-old to her bed. She wanted water, but by the time I returned she was asleep, breathing deeply under the stars and moon mobile hanging over her big-girl bed.

I found Joe in the kitchen with his hands in dishwater. I grabbed a towel.

He shot me a concerned look. “Start talking, Blondie.”

“Grrr. Must I?”

“You know you want to.”

“Ohhh-kay. Clapper told me to stay out of the Burke case but I decided to go interview Lucas Burke by myself. Kept Richie out of it, which, as we all know, shows consciousness of guilt.”

He handed me a wet dish. “How’d it turn out?”

“Nothing to show for it. Burke plausibly denied having anything to do with his missing wife and child.”

“He has an alibi?”

“Said he was on time for class the day she disappeared. That may be true but doesn’t account for the night before. What he says is that in the morning, they had a fight about money. He destroyed her credit card. He left for school, and his theory is that Tara looted the safe, took the baby, and drove off to piss him off. He says she’ll be home when she runs out of cash.”

“He didn’t express concern about the baby?”

“Not so you could tell. According to Cindy, Burke has a girlfriend.”

“Motive enough for some men to off their wives.”

“Yup. And I would like to get into this for real. I’d like to interview the girlfriend. But. It’s not my case, says