Framed and Burning (Dreamslippers Book 2) Read Free

of PIs,” said Alvarez. “That’s all we need.” Her voice softened. “This is a shock, I realize. So I suppose you can be present. But please, don’t interrupt. We need to talk to Mr. Travers now.”
    Then Alvarez’s gaze settled on Ernesto Ruíz, who politely hung back. “Don’t tell me you’re somebody’s third cousin twice removed. And that you’re a PI as well.”
    Ernesto chuckled. “No, no. Just a friend…who’s perfectly content to wait out here.”
    The officer nodded for her staff to close the doors to the room.
    “Now then, Mr. Travers,” Alvarez said, motioning for Mick to sit. She introduced herself and her deputies, Speck and Santiago. Santiago sat near them and began to take notes.  
    “I know this is hard,” Alvarez continued, “but I need to ask: How long have you been here?”
    “You mean at the hotel?” he asked.
    Alvarez sighed, and Grace detected a weariness in her bearing that suggested the sergeant was at the end of a long shift. “Yes. In the lounge downstairs.”
    “I don’t know. What time is it now?”
    Alvarez checked her cell phone. “It’s nearly two in the morning.”
    “A couple hours, I guess…”
    “I know this is a lot to take in. But you’re going to have to be more specific with us here, Travers.”
    Grace’s feeling of alarm worsened. Come to think of it, where had Mick been? He was supposed to meet them at the hotel, but he’d called and told them to go ahead, that he would be at the party later. And then he never showed up.
    “Why? You think I torched my own studio?”
    “When was the last time you were there?”
    “Not since this morning.”
    Grace broke in, “He was busy entertaining us for most of the day. Cat’s never been to Miami before….” She glanced at her brother for assistance.  
    “Say, why don’t you tell us what this is about,” said Mick. “Where’s Donnie?”
    Alvarez sighed again, this time with genuine feeling, not weariness. “I’m very sorry to inform you of this, Mr. Travers, but Don Hines is dead.”
    “No,” Mick said, running a hand through his hair. “He can’t be. He didn’t want to go to the party. He hates parties. He wanted to paint. His own stuff, not mine. He said he was onto something big.”
    Mick covered his face with his hands.  
    Grace wobbled a bit on her heels and went to embrace her brother, as much to steady herself as to comfort him. Mick’s body felt tense, as if rejecting the news in a physical way. Grace hadn’t known Donnie well, but she found him to be a charming character, always ready with a smile. And she was a great admirer of his art. What a loss for the world , she thought. And Mick was so fond of him, too.
    Over Mick’s shoulder, Grace tried to catch Cat’s eye across the room, but her granddaughter looked away. Cat didn’t know her great-uncle very well, so even if she hadn’t already been lost in a cloud of her own grief, it was understandable that she didn’t seem drawn to comfort him. Grace felt the heaviness of their double losses, and her own inability to ease their pain.
    Mick’s grief seemed to take more of the edge off Alvarez’s questioning. She waited a few beats for him to regain his composure, and when she spoke again, her tone had softened further.  
    “I’m sorry to ask this, Mr. Travers, but I’m going to need a full account of your timeline for the evening.”
    “Where is Donnie?” Mick stood. “I want to see him.”
    Grace touched her brother’s arm. “Mick, wait,” she said. “The fire marshal, forensics—they’re probably still on the scene.” She glanced at Alvarez, who nodded. Grace lowered her voice. “And he might be unrecognizable.”
    Mick sat down again. “Jesus.”
    Alvarez touched Mick’s hand. “Take it easy tonight, Mr. Travers. We’ll deal with the details in the morning.”
    She nodded a good-bye to Grace, who did the same.
    Cat fetched a cup of coffee for Mick, who took it in both hands as if it were the only thing he