Page 225 of Cara & Gian: The Guzzi Duet

At first, Cara didn’t notice the police cruisers and unmarked vehicles parked along the front of her apartment building. She was too busy reading the letter from her university, inviting her to take part in the autumn graduation ceremony for late graduates of her class. While she wasn’t a late graduate, she had passed on attending the main event.

When Cara did finally notice the police attendance, she was halfway up the walk. The early July air was hot and humid, as the majority of the entire summer had already been. She cradled her thirty-seven-week pregnancy swell overtop the flimsy summer dress that helped to keep her cool.

“Cara Rossi?”

She turned to see an officer in full uniform approaching. Her nerves picked up another notch.

“Yes, that’s me,” Cara said.

“I’ll escort you to your apartment.”

“Why? Did something happen?”

The officer smiled thinly. “Normal procedure, that’s all.”

“Normal procedure for what?”

“Follow me, miss.”

“What is going on?” Cara demanded.

The officer answered nothing, simply urged her toward the front doors of the building. Cara wondered if maybe her place had been broken into, though that seemed unlikely. She lived in a good part of the city, and the cost of her rent proved that little fact. Her building—in all the years she lived there—never once had a crime taken place inside or on the outside property.

It was possible that the cops were there because of her accident weeks ago. Her rib was healed and no longer sore, as was the gash on her hairline. Thankfully, that had healed with a scar that wasn’t noticeable, due to skilled stitching by a doctor.

“Is this about the accident?” Cara asked. “I answered all the questions I could at the hospital the next day, and then another round the next week when detectives came with pictures of vehicles for me to look at. I don’t know what more to tell you.”

The officer still didn’t answer.

Now, Cara was just getting peeved.

She didn’t have to wonder for long, as the door to her floor was pushed open. From her spot way down the hall, she could plainly see evidence boxes and bags resting along the wall outside of her apartment door. Inside a few of the clear, plastic bags with red tape sealing the tops, rested items that belonged to Gian.

A shirt of his.

A book.

An empty bullet clip for his favorite Berretta.

Wait, where in the hell had he put that damn thing?

“You’re raiding my place?” Cara shrieked, heading down the hall fast. “What fucking reason do you have to justify a search warrant on my apartment?”

She dropped her bag and the papers from her university, uncaring about the items. Inside her apartment, it looked like a hurricane had ripped through it. An officer identified her and Cara confirmed it, before another paper was shoved into her hands. She barely glanced at it, seeing what it was and only getting more irritated.

A search warrant.

Signed by a judge.

“Nice to see you again, Miss Rossi,” said a familiar detective. The man walked toward Cara with a small stuffed animal in his hands. A tiny elephant that had managed to survive the accident weeks before and Cara had put on the baby’s dresser as a decoration. “Cute little thing, this is.”

Her baby’s nursery?

Cara’s rage spiraled out of control, and she pushed past the detective, heading for Marcus’s room. Sure enough, even it had not gone untouched by the search. Each and every one of the baby’s dresser drawers had been pulled open. Carefully folded, tiny clothes spilled across the room in piles, while cute knickknacks and decoration items had been upended in a messy search.

The closet, a space Cara had kept a few boxes of Lea’s remaining things, was open. The boxes of her twin’s belongings had also been ransacked and searched through.

“We have reason to believe you or your apartment, is a regular stop for Gian Guzzi,” the detective said behind Cara, “and so, here we are to check for any information related to recent investigations into his business.”