His Mafia Queen

No Answers

Joe scratches his neck and smirks. "That's all true, and yeah, homicide is involved. But we're not the lead so I don't know the full details."

"But you know some details?"

"Jesus, you're a pest." Joe gets up, walks around his desk and shuts the door. "You didn't hear this from me."

I lean forward in my chair. Now we're getting somewhere.

"There's a distinct possibility that it's a disgruntled father." Joe leans against the desk and crosses his arms.

My brows knit into a frown. "Father? What do you mean by that?"

"Remember what we discussed last week? Your tip that Doyle was into child porn?"

Disgust bubbles in my stomach, and I nod.

"Apparently, Doyle had some photos of a rather young teenage girl in his possession. She was thirteen, and her father found some texts from him. The father is an enterprising type, and discovered our city councilor's email address. He did a little detective work on his own and lured Doyle to a secluded spot, then played judge, jury, and executioner."

My mouth forms an O. This is like something ripped from the script of a crime drama I'd watch on TV. "Damn," I whisper. "That's quite a story, I'd love to know if it's true so I can get it in the paper."

Joe shakes his head. "Unfortunately, we're not the lead agency, so we can't release a thing. You're going to have to talk to the Florida Department of Law Enforcement. I'll try to get you something by the end of the day. Obviously, it has great public interest for our citizens of Tampa. We want everyone to know they're not at risk. That a serial killer isn't after innocent citizens."

"It doesn't sound like there was anything innocent about Doyle." Fucker got what was coming to him, if you ask me.

Joe chuckles. "Not in the least. Although, it will be interesting to see what happens to his businesses. Will Doyle's widow continue his legacy, or will she sell everything?"

He returns to his seat behind the desk and points to a small fridge on a shelf behind him. "Want a soda?"

Joe's got a thing for diet soda. I shake my head. "Sticking to coffee today, thanks."

He opens the fridge door and pulls out a can, cracking it open. "Now it's time for you to answer a question of mine, young lady."

I grin. Joe sometimes pulls the dad card on me, and I let him, because he's a decent guy.

"What's this I hear about you and Gabriel Greco? Heard you were out on the town with him Saturday."

I roll my eyes. Jesus, does everyone in the city know we were at the fundraiser? I clear my throat. "There's nothing about me and Gabriel Greco. I went to a party with him. Was thinking of writing a profile of him."

"Oh, that's a good one. Like Greco would allow you to write an article on him." Joe takes a long guzzle and a drop of soda clings to the weathered skin of his chin. "I'm cautioning you to be careful. As your friend."

"That's interesting, considering Gabriel is all cozy with your boss, the police chief."

"All the more reason to be careful," Joe says in a sour tone.

"I promise to be careful, Dad," I tease. Of course, it's too late for that. I stand up, smiling. "Give me a holler if you can release anything officially. I'm going to pester the state attorney."

"Excellent idea. See you around, kid."

I leave the police station slightly less anxious than when I walked in.