Fight for Her #4: MMA New Adult Contemporary Romantic Suspense Read Online Free PDF

mostly.”
    “Evergreen?”
    The man nods.
    “He doesn’t go to the shelters when it’s cold like this?”
    “He likes sleeping with the dead.”
    I hand him the twenty. He opens the bill wide and stares at it like it’s a treasure map.
    There’s plenty of bars near the cemetery. I’ll poke around those and think about whether or not I want to try wandering through the tombstones.

    * * *
    It’s fully dark by the time I give up on looking behind bars. I’ve already encountered two gangs of boys looking for a fight. The first I walked away from. The second had a boy who recognized me from the Vegas match. He wanted to hang out. It took ten minutes to shake them off.
    I approach the walls of Evergreen Cemetery with trepidation. The front gates are closed by now, but along Cesar Chavez, a low chain-link fence is easy enough to scale. Probably there are gaps that people like Tony know about where they can squeeze in and find their spots inside. I wonder where they sleep. Inside the mausoleums with their concrete crypts? I shudder.
    I’m not afraid of ghosts or dead people. Getting arrested for trespassing, though, that could be a pain in the neck with the match coming up. The league frowns on bad press, although they have plenty of it. My fight with Viper is all set up now, just two weeks away. I can’t jeopardize it with a high-profile arrest.
    I don’t go in right away. I’m still hoping to find someone else who knows Tony. No doubt anybody inside the gates is bedded down and well hidden.
    At the corner, there’s an Italian restaurant known for its meatballs. I have a hunch that Tony would find that place comforting. Maddie’s mother was always cooking her grandmother’s Italian food. I think about heading inside, but then I circle around to the back of the building.
    A man in a white apron is sitting on the back step, smoking a cigarette. He tenses up as I approach, but I hold up my hands. “I’m just looking for somebody,” I say.
    He’s got glossy black hair and olive skin. He squints up at me. “Somebody who works here?” His accent is definitely Italian. Might be a family business.
    “Nah. Homeless guy. Probably hangs out by the dumpster.”
    The guy tosses his cigarette on the ground. “Ain’t nothing good in there. But we feed a couple guys.” He thumbs at a metal table and a pair of chairs rusting by the wall. “Pops knows a couple of them.”
    “Any of them Tony Greco?”
    “I don’t know any of their names.”
    “He’s not very tall.” I try to think of anything about Maddie’s dad that would stand out. “Bushy eyebrows. Real sad eyes.”
    The guy shrugs. “That’s about all of ’em,” he says.
    “This one sleeps at the cemetery,” I say.
    “Huh,” he says. “One of ’em does mention that. Sleeps with the angels, he tells me most every time he comes by.” He opens the back door. “Yo, Pops, you seen that dude who sleeps at Evergreen?”
    An older version of the man comes up to the door, drying his hands on a dish towel. “You mean Tones?”
    “Tony?” I ask, feeling hopeful. “Tony Greco?”
    “Maybe,” he says.
    “Has he been around?” I ask. “I’m looking for him for his daughter. She wants to find him.”
    “He mentioned a daughter,” the man says. “But he mighta died.”
    “What?” I take a step forward. “Another guy just saw him a couple weeks ago.”
    “Tones, he comes ’round every single Tuesday for potato gnocchi,” the man says. “Like clockwork. That man loves his gnocchi. I always save him a plate.”
    It’s Wednesday.
    “So he didn’t come yesterday?” I ask.
    “Nope,” the man says. He looks over at his son. “Check on the ravioli, will you?” The young man heads inside. “Not last week either.”
    “Why would that mean he died?”
    “That man loves his gnocchi,” he says. “But he was looking pretty poorly.”
    “Where would he go if he was sick?”
    The man shrugs. “I guess White’s Hospital. It’s close. But if an