So it was official.
Bianca and Tony were together.
And they were coming back home.
To a murder investigation.
“Oh boy,” I whispered.
Decker shook his head. “Nothing to worry about, Jus, seein’ as the police know Rojas’s MO and knew this wasn’t it so they started expanding their search. This included them getting a warrant to search several properties of a known enemy of Rojas. They got a big beef and it hasn’t been quiet. These searches bore fruit. They found a gun that’s a ballistics match on the slugs pulled out of Caswell.”
“Holy shit,” I murmured as Deke’s body got tight beside me.
“This enemy of Rojas, he also known to be stupid?” Deke asked.
Decker looked to him.
“No idea,” he answered. “Just know this guy also had a beef with Caswell. So this could be two birds with one stone, we just don’t know who threw the stone. This guy orders the hit of Caswell to set up Rojas or mess with his woman to get to Rojas, or Rojas does the hit and sets up this guy. Doesn’t matter. Rojas and Constantine both have solid alibis. Rojas’s maid said they were at his place at the time of the murders, best she knows. She says they were watchin’ TV when she went to bed at around eleven thirty. The timeline matches, plenty of time for them to have gone to his place after Rojas was seen entering Bianca’s apartment.”
Decker paused, like he was waiting for that to sink in, before he carried on.
“That journey from Bianca’s to Rojas’s takes an hour. The maid is live-in and her rooms are by the garage. She says if one or the other left, she’d hear. She didn’t hear anything and even though they had time to get back there within what the ME says was the time of death, it’d be tight. This guy that’s in custody does not have an alibi, so he has motive as well as opportunity, there’s a reason why he’d do the hit where it was done and the police found the murder weapon in his possession. He’s been charged and the case is strong. His attorney is already talking about a plea.”
“So it’s done,” I said.
Decker’s attention came to me and he nodded. “Yeah, it’s done. Talked to Chace, DNA sample you gave is gonna have results tomorrow. LA’s already sent theirs to the local lab here. They’ll do the compare and Chace and me figure that’ll draw a line under it.”
I wanted to be relieved and I was relieved.
Kind of.
The part that made it only kind of was that this was way too neat.
Who murdered someone and kept the gun on his property?
Then again, what did I know? I wasn’t in that life. Guns were expensive (I guessed). You probably wouldn’t throw one away indiscriminately.
Then again, you committed a murder with one, that would be a discriminate time to unload it and do it in a hurry.
Deke gave my shoulder a squeeze so I tipped my head back to look at him, seeing his eyes on me.
“You okay, gypsy?” he asked quietly.
“It’s too neat,” I whispered my reply, not meaning to leave Decker out, just feeling freaked about saying it out loud.
“It is,” Deke agreed. “And it’s also what you said. Done. That’s all that matters to you. The rest is not your shit.”
I stared into his eyes, thinking that since we became friends, Bianca’s shit was my shit. That was what being a friend was about.
But at the same time, Deke was right. When a friend’s shit nearly got you strangled to death and someone got dead that might be the line in the sand of friendship that you didn’t cross no matter how much you loved someone.
“The rest is not your shit, Jussy,” Deke repeated on another shoulder squeeze, undoubtedly seeing my thoughts on my face, bending his neck so his face was closer to mine. “It’s just over. Take that and move on.”
I nodded like doing that could settle that idea in my head.
I also repeated after him with the same idea.
“Take that and move on.”
At that point, Deke stared into my eyes.
This didn’t last long before he announced, “Your girl gets back, reaches out, I get you’ve been carrying worry about her for a while. But gotta say, babe, straight up, I need you to tell her to stay distant. She made her shit your shit and whatever happened after that, it’s over for you. But her shit was serious shit and she made that yours. So I’m not gonna be real receptive to her showin’ and lookin’ me over because I already know it’s gonna take a while for me to look at her and like what I see.”
At that, I bit my lip, not only at what he said but also at my earlier conversation with Joss.
Deke watched me bite my lip and through it muttered, “Fuck.”
“Deke’s got rooms to paint,” Decker declared and we both looked to him to see him rising from his seat. We did the same, me giving him an apologetic smile that we’d left him out of the conversation as he finished, “And I gotta get back to my wife.” He came our way around the fire pit, lifting his hand when he got close. “Nice to meet you, Justice.”
I took his hand, shook it and replied, “You too. And, you know, for your efforts—”
“Thurston’s covering that,” Decker replied.
Mr. T always did.
“Great. Good to know,” I said. “Thanks again. It…well, just knowing, however crazy it is, that Bianca’s doing okay, it means a lot.”
He gave me an intent look but simply said, “Yeah.”
“Walk you out,” I offered and Decker shook his head.
“I’ll find my way. Take care.” He looked to Deke and back to me. “And maybe we’ll meet at The Dog, throw a few back not talkin’ about hitmen, drug dealers or cartel members.”