Cassandra: Case Two: A Lt. Kate Gazzara Novel (A Lt. Gazzara Novel Book 2) by Blair Howard

Author:Blair Howard [Howard, Blair]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-04-08T05:00:00+00:00

9

But the following morning, I was indeed up bright and early and, thank the Lord, feeling a whole lot better. I even went for a short run before a quickie breakfast of toast and coffee. I made it into the office by seven, well before Finkle usually arrived: I wanted out of there before he could get his teeth into me, figuratively speaking, of course.

I stayed only long enough to grab my iPad, laptop and a couple of files, then Lonnie and I drove the fifty or so miles to Reliance in Polk County where Mark Smirin lived.

The Smirin home wasn’t quite as nice as Mark’s mother’s, but it certainly looked pleasant enough.

It was eight-fifteen when we arrived that morning, and we were only just in time, for as we pulled up in front of the house the man himself walked out of the front door, heading toward a huge white pick-up truck parked in the driveway.

“Geez, Lonnie,” I muttered. “I’m glad we made an early start.”

“Me too,” he said.

Since I’d left the office early the day before, I figured I didn’t need anyone questioning me, especially he who shall not be named. So before I went to bed, I texted Lonnie and had him meet me at the office at seven. It was a smart move, but for the wrong reason. Oh yeah, I make those every once in a while—smart moves.

I parked the car in front of the house, intentionally blocking the driveway.

Mark Smirin looked up, annoyed, and pointed to the unmarked cruiser.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he shouted. “I need to get out of here.”

“Mark Smirin?” I held up my badge and watched him instantly become confused. “I’m Lieutenant Catherine Gazzara, Chattanooga PD. This is my partner Sergeant Lonnie Guest. Can we talk to you for a few minutes?”

His shoulders slumped. “This is about Cassandra, isn’t it? My mother called yesterday. She said you were looking for me. Okay, I can give you ten minutes. Go.”

“We want to know about your relationship with Cassandra Smart,” Lonnie replied. “So how about we go inside and you begin at the beginning?”

He heaved a deep sigh, shook his head, then said, “Okay. But I do gotta get to work, so can we—”

“We appreciate your time, Mr. Smirin,” I said, interrupting him. “We know you own the company, so I don’t think anyone will complain too much if the boss arrives a little late. Now, can we…”

“Sure, if you insist,” he said, resignedly, “but please keep your voices down. My wife’s still asleep and I’d like for her to stay that way. She doesn’t like to hear about Cassie so…”

“Understood,” Lonnie said, nodding and we followed Mark inside his garage where a couch, a recliner, a small fridge, and a coffee table occupied one side of the building, while a Kia Soul was parked on the other side.

“Why don’t you sit down,” he said, waving a hand at the couch.

I did—Lonnie remained standing—and I placed my iPad on the coffee table in front of Mark and informed him I’d be recording the interview.

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