“Good evening, Mr. Myles.”
“Captain Petrowski.”
Captain Petrowski shook Jefferson’s hand. “Good to see you on the other side of the law.”
Jefferson dropped Petrowski’s hand and motioned for him to have a seat. He dismissed Petrowski’s little innuendo about his tour of duty in prison because he had more important things on his mind. “Any word about Santiago, Captain? My gut feelings tell me this is his work.”
Formalities out of the way, Captain Petrowski shared with Jefferson most of what he knew.
“We have questioned several inmates at the prison who might have witnessed Hamilton’s murder. We still have not come up with anything concrete. The Highway Patrol has been sweeping Interstate 95 for the last two or three days, but our dragnets haven’t netted anything yet. We’ve got the city pretty well surrounded, with double duty the day of the funeral.
“We’ve received word from New York that suggests Santiago could very well be tied to the murder of a well-known photographer by the name of Donna Barnes Reardon. Coincidentally, she is the cousin of Hamilton Barnes.”
“I wasn’t aware of that,” Jefferson said thoughtfully, wondering why Angelica hadn’t mentioned it to him. Brushing his curiosity aside, Jefferson looked at the Captain. “When did this happen?”
“A month ago,” Captain Petrowski responded.
When was Angelica going to tell him? She’d been sleeping with Santiago for some time, and surely she had to have known about Hamilton’s cousin. He balled his hand into a fist and slapped it into his other, pissed that he had to hear this bit of news from the Captain.
“Is there something wrong?” Captain Petrowski asked, noting Jefferson’s agitated state.
“Wrong? Santiago is a madman, and I’m afraid he’ll do whatever he has to do to eliminate Angelica Barnes and me. I’m frustrated because he’s still running around when he should have been in prison years ago.” Petrowski looked away because he wanted Santiago more than anybody and hated that he had slipped through his fingers. “And to see my wife paralyzed with fear when those shots were fired into my house tonight…hell, I’ll admit I’m scared.”
“Wherever you choose to go tonight-I’m sure you won’t be staying at your house-we will have security for you.”
Without knocking, a police officer that had been outside gathering evidence rushed into the house.
“Captain, we’ve got a witness who saw someone shooting at this residence from a car. We’ve got a tag number and it’s from New York.”
“Get an ID on it now,” Petrowski barked. “By the way, good work!”
“Thanks, Captain. Already working on it.”