The Alvarez & Pescoli Series. Lisa Jackson

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СКАЧАТЬ waiting in my office.”

      “Just let us know if you think of anything.”

      “There’s nothing to think about, Detective.” He hung up and Regan was left with a bad feeling. She pulled into the garage, hit the remote so the door would crank down, then climbed out of the car and made her way into her house, where Cisco greeted her with wild tail wagging, excited yips and tight little circles of enthusiasm. She had only half an hour, then she had to be back at the department for a Friday afternoon meeting before she worked late into the night. Overtime. This year it would pay for Christmas.

      The dog was still going out of what little he had for a mind.

      “Cisco! Shut up!” Bianca yelled from her bedroom. The TV was blaring in the living room, tuned into some reality show about twenty-somethings being overly dramatic about the minutiae of their lives, all while dressed in nearly nothing. Lots of tanned, toned flesh, a few piercings visible, numerous tattoos, all peppered with tears, bad language and raw, teen-type angst and emotion.

      “Real life, my ass.” Pescoli picked up the remote, downed the volume and turned to the local news.

      Once the decibel level was in the normal hearing range again, Pescoli stuck her head into her daughter’s room. Painted a blinding pink when Bianca was ten, it was now covered in posters of the latest teen “hotties” from boy bands and movie stardom. Bianca was flopped over her unmade bed, cell phone glued to her ear.

      “Where’s your brother?” Regan asked.

      Bianca’s expression got all pissy. She mouthed, “I’m on the phone.”

      “Big deal. Hang up. You can call whoever it is back.”

      “What? Just a minute. My mom came in. No, it’s okay—”

      “Hang up, Bianca. Your dad will be here in twenty minutes.”

      Sending her mother a look meant to melt steel, Bianca said, “Look, I’ll call ya back. I gotta go…. What?…Yeah, that’s right. The warden needs me.” She hung up and sent her mother a triumphant smirk.

      “The ‘warden’ wants to know that you’ve got all your stuff packed up for the weekend and where your brother is.”

      “I’m ready to go.”

      “Got your homework?”

      “I don’t have to do homework at Lucky’s,” she said, invoking the name of her father, whom she hadn’t called “Daddy” since the divorce. “Michelle says—”

      Pescoli snatched the cell phone out of her daughter’s hand.

      “Hey!” Bianca cried as Pescoli snapped the phone closed.

      “I don’t care what Michelle says, or really what ‘Lucky’ says either. You take your homework and you get it done, or you and ‘the warden,’ we’re going to have serious issues.”

      “We already do!” Bianca declared.

      “Yeah, I know. So where’s your brother?”

      “Don’t know.”

      “Sure you do. You got home somehow and I’m betting you didn’t take the bus.”

      “Chris brought me.”

      “Your boyfriend brought you home? Didn’t I tell you he wasn’t allowed in the house when I wasn’t here?”

      “He dropped me off. Well, yeah, he came in and I gave him a jar of Jeremy’s Gatorade, so sue me, call the sport drink cops!”

      “I am the cops,” Pescoli reminded her.

      “He gave me an effin’ ride home! You should be glad. Jeremy ditched me.”

      “For what?”

      “I don’t know and I don’t really care. He said something about Lucky not being his real dad and him not having to go.” She glared at her mother. “Give me back my phone.”

      “As soon as you’re packed, and that includes your homework.” Pescoli held tight to the cell. Fuming, she returned to the kitchen, let Cisco outside to do his business and checked his water. “Did you feed the dog?” she called over her shoulder and was met with seething, muted silence emanating from Bianca’s room. Obviously she was being given the silent treatment. Well, good. It was way better than hearing the backtalk. As the terrier pawed at the door to be let in, Pescoli dialed her son’s cell number, then opened the door. A blast of cold air followed the dog back inside.

      Jeremy didn’t pick up. But then he never did. Why should now be different from every other day? The kid was being a jerk. And whose fault is that, huh? Who let him get away with murder as a kid because of guilt over Joe’s death? “Damn it all,” she muttered, not leaving a message on voice mail and, instead, defaulting to texting, which she hated, but at least now her kid would read the message.

      Get your butt home. Now. xoxo Mom

      “That should do it, huh?” she said to the dog, and then, hearing Bianca making noises as if she were putting together an overnight bag, Pescoli poured herself a Diet Coke, added ice and sat down on the couch. Cisco, done with his meager meal of dried food, hopped onto the lumpy cushion beside her and waited as she petted his scruffy head. “Feeling ignored?” she asked the dog. “Join the club.”

      He hopped onto her lap, put his paws on her chest and licked her face.

      “Okay, okay, enough already. I may be single, but I’m not this desperate.”

      “Oh, sick,” Bianca said, walking out of her bedroom and carrying an overstuffed backpack.

      “Grow a sense of humor,” Pescoli suggested, and finally Bianca managed a smile.

      “Okay, okay,” she said. “Now, can I have—”

      Pescoli tossed her daughter the precious cell phone. “You do have your homework with you?”

      “Yeah.” For once Bianca didn’t roll her eyes or go into her irritating pouty, put-upon act. She even bent over and petted Cisco on his head. “So what’re you doing this weekend?”

      “There’s a maniac killer on the loose.”

      “Oh, work?”

      “Give the girl a gold star.” Regan took a long swallow from her glass, then watched as the ice cubes clicked and danced in the dark liquid.

      “Don’t you get tired of it?”

      “Mmm. Beats sitting at a desk nine to five. Or waiting tables. Did both of those before.”

      Bianca wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. You see some pretty gross stuff.”

      “Gross and totally demoralizing. Makes you wonder what’s wrong with the entire human race.”

      “Then why do you do it?”

      “Someone СКАЧАТЬ