weekends.'
'When was the last time you saw someone at this grave?'
'Oh, man, I don't know. I couldn't tell you. There's a lotta people come and go from here. I don't notice 'em, you know? I'm workin'.'
'There's a lot people come and go,' Annie repeated. 'But you never noticed anyone here?'
'No. I might have seen someone but I wasn't payin' attention, you know? I never seen anyone cryin' or sittin' for a long time like some people do, you know? You, Manny?'
Manny shook his close-cropped head. 'Nah.'
Frank came back to the frequency. 'So there are fresh flowers about every two weeks, is that right?'
'About that,' Robert agreed. 'Sometimes I've had to throw 'em away but mostly whoever brings the new ones throws away the old ones.'
'The candle, too?'
'Yeah, I guess. Some a them you gotta toss 'cause they look old, you know? They're all peelin' or faded. They look messy. I've tossed a candle from here a couple times. Once or twice.'
'What type of candle?'
Robert held his hands about ten inches apart. 'The glass ones, you know? Religious candles?'
Frank nodded. 'Can you remember what picture was on the candle?'
'No. There's too many. I can't remember 'em all.'
'Manny?'
He flicked ash on the grave. 'I don't know. There was one time, though.' He stared at the horizon like a Clint Eastwood character about to divulge the secret tragedy that turned him into a brooding vigilante. 'I saw a priest here. Had the white collar and black coat, whole nine yards.'
'When was this?'
Manny pursed his lips. 'A long time ago.'
'Ten years? Five years? Six months?' Annie prompted.
'Maybe like a year, year an' a half ago.'
'What was he doing?'
'Changing flowers, I think. Something like that. I wasn't paying much attention. But a priest, the collar and all, it catches your eye.'
'And you're sure he was at this grave?'
Manny shook his head, 'Nah. Maybe. Coulda been, but I ain't sure. It was somewhere around here.'
Frank asked, 'You ever seen anything else here, besides flowers and candles?'
The men answered with head shakes and Annie told them, 'All right, fellas, we appreciate your help, huh?'
The groundskeepers walked off, leaving Annie and Frank staring at the grave.
'So you got no family that coulda left the flowers?'
Frank wagged her head.
'No old friends? No war buddies?'
'Doubt it. My father and his brother both served in Korea but neither one of 'em ever talked about it. I asked my father once and he told me it was nothing I needed to know about. After they were discharged they moved here from Chicago. All their friends were back there.'
'They didn't make friends here?'
'Yeah, they had bar buddies but they were each other's best friend. I'm tellin' you, it's someone linked to the perp. Gotta be.'
'Frank, I hate to be indelicate here, but what if, let's say, your pops, he had someone else in his life that you didn't know about? Someone special, huh? I mean, it's a possibility. Anything's possible and how would a ten-year- old know such a thing, right?'
'You mean another woman?'
'It's possible.' Annie hefted her shoulders.
'Nah,' Frank denied. 'Not my dad. He was crazy about my mom. Yeah, sure, it's possible, anything is. But probable? Nah. I can't see it.'
'Can't or won't, my friend?'
Frank stared hard at Annie before starting for the car. 'We're done here.'
CHAPTER 19
Annie unlocked the car and as they slid in, she pressed, 'I know it's not a pretty idea but you have to consider all the angles. Come on, you know that. And look what we got here—flowers, candles— it screams female. You gotta admit that.'
Frank couldn't speak around the rage in her chest. As a cop she saw the potential of what Annie was saying. As a daughter, she was furious. Betrayal and logic silently warred as they crossed the East River. Coming into the city Frank allowed, 'Well, whoever it is visits on a regular basis.'
'Yeah, but I hate to tell you, we haven't got the resources to leave a man at the cemetery all day until whoever it is shows up.'
'Don't have to. Em gonna do it.'
'Whaddaya mean you're gonna do it? You gotta get back to LA. You got a job, don't ya?'
'Yeah. With years' worth of accrued vacation time. People take two-, three-week vacations all the time. Why can't I? It's winter, it's slow. I got a good crew that knows what to do without me. And if our mystery visitor shows up as regularly as it sounds like, then it shouldn't take more than a week or two. Maybe three, tops.'
'I don't know,' Annie worried.
'You gonna stop me?'
'No-o. But if and when this person materializes, are you gonna handle him—or her—like a cop or a daughter?'
'A cop,' Frank snapped. 'Just a cop.'
Lifting a placating hand, Annie calmed, 'All right, all right. I had to ask. I'm sorry I brought this up but it's a possibility you gotta look at.'
'Yeah, all right, I know.'
'I can't have you goin' off on whoever's leavin' this stuff.'
'I'm not going off on anybody. Whoever I find I'll treat 'em like I'd treat any other wit.'
'And of course you'll let me know the minute you find someone.'
Frank nodded.
'And you don't confront this person. You can tail her, or him, or whatever, but leave the questions to me. You don't talk to her. You got it?'
'Got it.'
Pulling into the station lot, Annie asked, 'You got friends here?'
'What?'
'You got friends here in town? Anybody to hang out with?'
'No.'
'You got no friends, no family. You're dealin' with your pop's murder and if I may ask, how much are you spendin' a night at the hotel?'
'About eighty bucks.'
'Eighty bucks a night for one, two, maybe even three weeks.' Nosing into a spot Annie put the car in park, declaring, 'That's stupid. I live fifteen minutes away in Tribeca. I got two bedrooms sittin' there empty since my kids left. You're gonna come stay with me. End of discussion.'
'Nah, I can't.'
'Why ya can't?'
Frank got out of the unmarked.
Annie asked over the top of the car, 'You mad about what I said back there?'
Frank sighed, tracing a line through the grime on the hood. 'The cop in me wants to slap myself silly for not thinking of that, but the daughter in me wants to slap
