“Yes and no. He didn’t mention knowing anyone from Minnesota, but he’s not real chatty either. You found him?”
“Yes. I’ll fill you in when I get back. Just keep an eye on Bracco. He might know more than he’s letting on.”
“He loves your father. And if he wanted him dead he could have done it years ago.”
“They took Viggo’s grandson to make him help.”
“Who’s they?”
“He doesn’t know. Does Bracco have family?”
Angelina hesitated for a moment. “I’m not sure.”
“Keep an eye on him.”
Shee hung up and pointed forward. “Back to the airport.”
Mason threw the car into gear. “Yes, Ma’am.”
Two pops echoed outside and Shee slapped her left hand on Mason’s arm.
“Wait.”
Mason looked at her.
“That sounded like gunshots.”
&&&
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mason twisted to reverse the car back into their previous parking spot as if it were pulled on a string. Shee scanned the street. The shots had been close.
“He might have killed himself. He had a ton of guns in there,” she said. “He’s not a happy guy.”
Mason shook his head. “I heard two shots. Suicides don’t usually get a second chance.”
Shee grimaced. Good point.
She opened her door and Mason put a hand on her thigh.
“Hold on. We don’t have guns, remember?”
“We can’t just leave.”
“No, but let me take point on this one.”
She consented and they left the vehicle to pick their way across the icy street, gazes sweeping the area for shooters.
Mason ignored the front door in favor of heading around the side of the saltbox home. He hugged the building as Shee followed in his footsteps. Pausing, he pointed at a set of footprints leading his own.
Someone’s here.
Reaching the back, Mason glanced around the corner and whispered his findings to her. “Footprints to the door and then heading across the yard, over the back fence. Hang back a sec.”
He crept toward the back steps to peer inside before opening the door and disappearing inside. Shee followed, staring at the tracks in the snow leading to Viggo’s chain-link fence. The footprints continued beyond it, disappearing around the corner of the rear neighbor’s house.
Whoever had been there had jumped the fence to get away rather than heading back out front.
Because we were out front.
Though Shee was tempted, it didn’t make sense to try and follow. Whoever had been to Viggo’s was probably both armed and long gone.
She entered the house. Mason crouched at the threshold between the kitchen and the dining room where she’d sat with Viggo. She saw a portion of the big man’s body on the floor at his feet.
“Is he dead?” she asked.
Mason held up a finger and slipped around the corner into the living room. Shee headed for Viggo, squatting to feel for a pulse. The hole in his forehead didn’t look promising.
Mason returned a moment later.
“House is clear.”
Shee straightened. “He’s dead. One to the head.”
“Two shots,” said Mason.
They both homed in on the gun near Viggo’s hand.
“He got a shot off?” Shee backtracked to the kitchen to find a bullet hole marring the wall left of the back door. “Yep. It’s here. He missed.”
Her attention moved to a dark patch on the wall near the bathroom. Something square had protected the paint there.
She’d been staring at that very spot with Viggo.
“The picture is missing.” She pointed at the square. “There was a framed news clipping of Viggo and my father getting a commendation from the President.”
Mason scowled. “Why would someone kill a man for a news clipping?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he had something in the frame?”
Mason moved toward the back door. “We should get out of here.”
“Should we call nine-one-one?”
“Maybe from a safe distance. Did you touch anything during your visit?”
Shee glanced at the dining room. Viggo stared back at her with unblinking eyes.
“The chair. The door knob.”
She grabbed a kitchen towel from where it hung over the handle of the stove and wiped down the dining room chair and the handle of the front door.
After a final visual sweep of the house, she followed Mason out the back door, taking the towel with her and wiping down that knob as well.
“We have to get home,” she said as they made their way back to the car.
“We should circle the block, see if anyone is walking around in this cold.”
She nodded. “Why kill him now? They saw me talking to him?”
“I doubt they’ve been watching his house all this time. Coincidence, maybe. They’re slow tying up loose ends?”
Shee slid into the rental car and looked at Mason as he pulled away from the curb. The right corner of her mouth curled into a smile.
How could she not trust a man leaving the scene of a homicide with her?
A new thought pushed its way to the forefront and her sprouting smile wilted.
Unless that man was the one person who knew I’d be talking to Viggo.
&&&
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Angelina headed over the bridge to the address she’d found on Bracco’s 1099s. His first name was Robert.
Who knew?
She’d never called him anything but Bracco.
Shee’s suspicions made her realize how little she knew about the man. Did he have a wife? For some reason, she’d always assumed he did.
I saw a picture of her at some point, didn’t I?
Did he have kids? Grandkids?
Any of them could be used against him.
She needed to get information before Shee returned. She didn’t trust the girl to handle the situation with finesse. Bracco was a friend. Innocent until proven guilty.
She needed him to watch that door until Mick woke up.
Angelina found a parking spot at Bracco’s apartment complex and cut her
