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Daniel makes a noise of consideration. “I can try,” he says. “Do you want to come down to the station? You might know more about Declan’s past than I do, and you can help point me in the right direction of where to look.”
I agree, and we hang up, deciding to meet in an hour’s time. Jumping in the shower, I clean myself up and then do a quick shave before heading out.
On the way, I mentally replay everything I know about Declan O’Malley. I know that he grew up with our father. I know that he and Dad were tight, like brothers-in-arms. I also know that Aunt Bridget doesn’t like him, based on the info she gave Ryder.
“What else?” I mutter to myself, checking my rearview mirror as I drive. Because Eva was targeted by those rat bastards while driving to work, I know I need to be extra cautious whenever I’m on the road.
Approaching the station, I park and get out, stuffing the keys in my pocket as I head into the building. The air is still crisp and cold this time of day, so it feels nice and warm inside.
I give a short nod to the officer manning the desk, striding past the usual litany of criminals and undercover cops as I head to Daniel’s desk. He’s got a spot right at the front of the bullpen, the first desk once you enter the detectives’ area.
“Hey.” I wave, sinking into the chair next to his desk. He gives me a harried wave and takes a sip of coffee, making a face.
“Geez, I forgot to warm this up,” he says. “I’ll be right back. Feel free to look through the files on top of the stack to the left.”
I grab one and flip it open, scanning down the page. There’s more bio information on Declan in this, simple crap like where he went to school, when he graduated, that sort of shit.
Under known associates, our father’s name pops up, and I hide a smirk. Good old Dad, a suspect from the cops until the bitter end. He always managed to evade arrest, though, because he ran a clean business and a tight ship.
Nothing here is new information, so I set it aside and grab the next file. Daniel comes back with a fresh cup of coffee for himself and one for me, handing it to me as he sits back down.
“Anything?” he asks, a hopeful expression on his face.
“Nothing yet,” I tell him. “This is all the same standard info as before. What do you think we could be looking for?”
Daniel scrubs a hand over his face. “Well, we’re trying to establish a connection between Declan and the DeLuccis, right?” When I nod, he continues, “So we need to look into his past with that in mind. Go over everything with a fine-tooth comb. Did he know Sal or Giovanni at all? Was he neighbors with one of their lieutenants? That’s what we need to find out.”
“So these files have that information?” I ask.
“What we need to do is go through every piece of info about his past, where he lived, what sports he played, where he went to school, and we need to look and see if we can find any connection there.”
My eyes close for a moment. “That will take a while, won’t it?”
“Any info you can give me to help speed the process up would be great,” Daniel admits.
So we each take a stack and start looking through it, seeking out particulars that would put Declan in conjunction with any of the DeLuccis at any point.
It’s a slog, combing through Declan’s life. So far, we’ve found out that he pretty much lived, worked, and frequented solely Callahan businesses.
Daniel has a copy of the St. Gabriel’s yearbook for Declan and Dad’s senior year, and I open it up, reading through every name of every student in every grade.
Nothing stands out until I spot the name Francie Rossi, which rings a bell somewhere deep in my mind. When I flick over to her portrait, I have to squint, but I realize that it looks a lot like Francesca DeLucci, Giovanni’s wife.
“Hey, this girl, look her up,” I tell Daniel, showing him the page. Daniel types her name into AFIS, trying to see if he can find her.
“Francesca DeLucci, nee Rossi,” he reads out. I almost jump out of my chair, excitement coursing through me.
“That’s it!” I say, pointing at the screen. “That’s her! Francie Rossi is Francesca DeLucci.”
“But how does Declan know her?” Daniel asks. “Just because they went to school together doesn’t mean that he knew her.”
“Okay, so I didn’t remember it until I saw her name, but I remember my dad teasing Declan a few times about how he dated Francie Rossi in high school. I realize now that he must have been giving Declan shit for dating Giovanni DeLucci’s wife.”
“So they do know each other,” Daniel breathes out. “Wow. I didn’t think we’d find the connection today.”
“We don’t know that Declan went to see Francesca,” I point out. “I’ll look more into it on my own. But I’m glad we found a possible connection, at least.”
It’s dark by the time I head out after thanking Daniel for all his help. My mind turns over and over on the possibility that Declan approached Francesca DeLucci for help killing our father. Would she have done so just because of their shared past?
