Missing Brandy (A Fina Fitzgibbons Brooklyn Mystery Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

she didn’t care if I didn’t listen to them. That’s when I zinged her good. “Like, I s’pose, you don’t listen to me.” That got her. She stopped and did that thing with her lips I hate where she presses them close together like you’re supposed to do when you blot them. She said a lot of teachers were close to being Socialists, and when I looked it up, being a Socialist didn’t sound like such a bad thing, except about the private property part.
    After Dad died and Granny sort of went away, there was only Aunt Caroline, and at best she was a long subway ride away. Upper East Side facing the park where she lived with a rich guy named Rick. He invested in TV stations, whatever that means. Aunt Caroline took me to Central Park, and we’d walk, and she’d tell me stories about being in college and being with men and which men to watch out for. Most of it was boring. Aunt Caroline was not as good as Dad or Granny, but she was a whole lot better than Pah-tricia. But Caroline’s left me, too. London. Across the pond, that’s what she calls it. Tells me I should visit, but I don’t know. Granny shakes her head, and Pah-tricia says I have to be older.
    Aunt Caroline sleeps around. That’s what Granny told me once, and that’s why I love Granny, at least when she’s being herself. But sometimes she lies in bed and hugs her purse and stares at me, and I know she’s far away. “That’s what old people do,” Caroline told me once. But when she’s here, I mean really here, Granny Liam tells me stuff she isn’t supposed to. I can see her eyes getting papery and can hear her throat getting all whispery. “Now don’t tell your mother I said this.” That’s how she starts up, and a chill goes up my arms, and I know I’m going to hear juicy stuff.

Chapter 5

    Henry. Early That Morning, Before The Take

    Henry leaned against his van. He’d parked it on the other side of Joralemon so he could watch the kids walking to school in a few hours. With luck, the girl would grab a juice from the deli. She’d done that every day for the past two weeks. Sometimes, though, she skipped her little trip to the store. If she didn’t go, they’d have to postpone it. No matter. Either way, he was prepared. He rehearsed the moves in his head, felt his legs twitch in time to the movie in his mind, just like a dancer. Six o’clock, barely light, but he had to be early. As it was, he’d gone around the block twice and hovered in the van, waiting twenty minutes for the right space. Twenty minutes, what was twenty minutes? He’d waited over fourteen years for this moment. In his mind, Stuart lay in his hospital bed. “I love you, Daddy. See you tomorrow.” Henry canted a foot to the side so he could examine the sole of his running shoe. Pretty worn, he’d have to get a new pair soon.
    The girl was young with long curls—fiery when the sun hit them just right. Her name was Brandy. He’d watched her. He’d scoped her out, all right, knew all her outfits. Today she wore the black tights with the lime green hooded affair and the clunky braid she sometimes had with those kinky curls sticking out like wayward tendrils. Kids today didn’t need to get all dressed up.
    He wondered what his boy would be wearing. He’d been a boy, all boy. Never cared for clothes. His mom had to lay out his outfits for him. Too young, didn’t have a chance, not like this girl. She had everything. But face it, his boy wouldn’t be a boy now, would he? He’d be close to twenty-one. The thought made his forehead sweat. This girl had lived almost twice as long as his son had.
    Stuart’s death was his fault. He should have stayed with him. Instead, he let the hospital kill him. It was all his doing—his and the lawyer’s. She had to bear some of the blame. She was so smug in court. He couldn’t believe the jury fell for her argument. He didn’t care about the money, didn’t need the money. With it, he was going to set up a scholarship in