Framed and Burning (Dreamslippers Book 2) Read Free Page A

had left in the world.
    “She’s right, Mick,” Grace said. “Let’s head back to the hotel. I don’t think you should go home tonight. You can stay in my room. I have an extra bed.”
    Mick gulped the coffee and set it down. He wiped his eyes. “I don’t know how I could sleep.”
    There was nothing Grace could say to that, so she squeezed her brother’s shoulder instead. She and Cat watched him finish his coffee. When he was done, he let the cup clatter onto the tabletop. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
    The three went back into the ballroom. Grace saw Speck and Santiago talking to people. She overheard Alvarez on her phone with a member of the forensics team, which was most likely crawling over the wreck that was her brother’s art studio.
    They left the scene behind, Grace leading them through the corridors of the convention complex to the hotel adjoining it, where she and Cat had rooms. The hotel had seemed so impersonal at first—Grace would have preferred rooms in a boutique hotel or a bed-and-breakfast, were it not for the convenience. But now it seemed like a refuge.
    Grace let them into her room. She slipped off her heels and sat on the bed, wondering vaguely where Ernesto had gone, realizing she hadn’t said good-bye to him. Cat slumped into a chair by the window, the lights of South Beach garish behind her. Mick went straight for Grace’s laptop, which was sitting on a desk.
    “What are you doing, Mickey?”
    “I’ve got to get his parents’ phone number. I need to call them.”
    “That can wait till tomorrow.”
    “I don’t want them to find out from the news.” Mick pecked away at the keyboard.
    Grace put her hand on his shoulder again. “It’s two in the morning,” she said softly. “You don’t want to wake them, tell them like that.”
    Mick slowed down, his face crumpling again. “Here’s their phone number and address.”  
    “That’s great,” she said. “We can give it to Alvarez in the morning.”
    Grace motioned to Cat to hand her a pad of hotel stationery and a pen. Then Grace copied down the information.
    “I’m not going to sleep,” Mick announced. “How can I?”
    They were quiet a minute, and then Grace said, “All right then. Let’s talk about your timeline for the evening, before you forget the details.” She slid the pad of paper and pen in front of him.
    Mick crossed his arms over his chest. “What am I supposed to write?”
    “Write down where you were every hour today, and who you were with.”
    He stared at the paper. “No.”
    Cat finally spoke up. “But Uncle Mick, the police are going to make you do this anyway. It’s better to be cooperative.”
    Mick glared at Cat. “Did they teach you that in cop school?”
    “It was a bachelor’s program in criminal justice,” Cat said. “And yes.”  
    Grace winced a bit at Cat’s defensive tone. If Grace weren’t glad to see her granddaughter finally exhibiting something other than passivity, she would have lightly reprimanded her. Instead, she turned to her brother.  
    “Cat’s right, Mickey. You need to be as specific as possible.”
    “Not right now.” He put the pen down and stood up. “I want to see Donnie.”
    “That’s not a good idea,” Cat protested. “You’ve been drinking.”
    “Nonsense. I’ve had coffee.” He stood and made for the door.
    Grace had no choice but to follow her brother. She grabbed the pad of paper with the contact information and ran after him. Cat followed.  
    By the time they got to the parking lot, they’d managed to talk him out of driving. He wasn’t in shape for it, and besides, Grace regarded his small brown Fiat convertible as a death trap. It was a ’78 and on its third clutch, which Mick had a tendency to ride hard. He’d acquired it in a trade for several of his paintings.
    Grace knew the authorities wouldn’t be keen to let any of them into the crime scene until investigators were done, which might not be till the next day. By the way