Luca stared at her, watching Kira sashay into the room in a dress that wasn’t quite flattering—but maybe that was the point, considering this was a memorial service. At least, that’s what was happening downstairs. Up here, they were doing something different.
Or he’d been trying to, anyway.
She glanced at him. “Close the door.”
Luca’s brows rose.
As he had with Detective Martinelli and Deputy Marshal Butler in that interview room, he wondered if she had quickly read the situation she’d wandered into and, between opening the door and entering, decided to change things up. Use the time-honored good-cop–bad-cop tactic.
Did that mean she was on board here to help him?
Luca didn’t know, but it might prove more effective than the questions he’d been asking since he got here.
“What is going on here?” She put one hand on the curve of her hip, her elbow bent out. “And somebody talk fast, because Destiny wants to know where Roger is. We can’t send him downstairs looking like that now, can we.”
Did she think he was the one who had punched Roger in the face?
“Roger and I are getting to know each other.” Luca folded his arms, because she either trusted him or believed he had come in here and punched the guy on the day of his father’s memorial.
He’d snuck in for the memorial, hence the fact he was wearing his best jeans and a black button-down shirt, and seen Roger up here in the second-floor hallway for a second. No point in wasting the opportunity of talking to Roger just to make small talk with people he didn’t need to speak to.
Turned out, Roger had been in a fight, and Luca thought he might need someone to unload on. He could play the part of friend. It didn’t seem like this guy had many of those.
This was supposedly his room, but the place was decorated like a model-home showroom and made Luca wonder if the guy crashed elsewhere most of the time. He was nearly forty. Luca hoped he didn’t still live with his parents.
Roger wore a suit today, but likely only in deference to his mother’s wishes. The material hung on him in a way that suggested it had fit better before ten pounds of weight gain. Something he didn’t wear often but pulled out for special occasions like this.
Between the buttons of his shirt, Luca could see the white T-shirt underneath. Roger had removed his suit jacket, and if there had been a tie, it was nowhere to be seen now. A drop of blood on the collar of his shirt was the only indication that he had been in the altercation since getting dressed.
Someone had punched this man in the cheek. Maybe not here in this house, but certainly sometime today.
“I believe he was about to tell me who hit him.” What Luca actually needed to know was whether there was a connection between the Shadow Syndicate and the cartel.
He wasn’t sure there were many other viable explanations for what had been happening.
Kira turned to Roger, still sitting in that chair Luca had pulled over for him when he’d seen how much Roger was weaving and about to fall over. Given the smell on the man’s breath, it was clear he’d drunk too much alcohol today.
“Well?” Kira turned the full force of her attention on the younger man. “Who hit you?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Roger shook his head.
“It might matter. So why don’t you try us?”
But the expression on Roger’s face didn’t change. Luca hadn’t been getting anywhere in the few minutes before Kira showed up. He doubted they would actually gain answers before someone else came looking for them.
The fact no one connected to this case wanted to tell Luca anything was becoming irritating. Hopefully Jamie could come up with answers now that she’d told him the money was moving through foundation accounts.
“We are not talking about that.” Roger looked at Luca. “You said this was about my dad.”
Kira glanced at him, but Luca didn’t know why. He said, “I’m investigating your father’s connection to the shadow syndicate operating in town.” Luca shrugged. “That’s the bottom line here. I’m sorry, but if you didn’t know, someone pointed their finger at your dad as the head of the syndicate.” He watched Roger’s face for any indication as to how he felt about that or the fact Luca knew. “That doesn’t surprise you?”
Roger shrugged. Maybe he just didn’t care. A guy staring down the barrel of turning forty, adopted into money so that he didn’t have to work. Luca wondered what drove him to do anything when whatever he wanted was handed over on a silver tray.
“Was your father the head of the Shadow Syndicate?”
“Can’t say I know what you’re talking about,” Roger said.
Kira shifted her stance, dropping her hands from her hips. “What is it that you do for living, Roger?”