Death, Taxes, and a Chocolate Cannoli (A Tara Holloway Novel) by Diane Kelly Page B

grabbed her purse. “I’ll come with you.”
    Lu pulled up the address to the retirement community on her phone and navigated as I drove. The place sat just south of the Richardson city limits, a mile east of Central Expressway. The grounds were surrounded by a five-foot brick wall sporting an overgrowth of ivy. The entrance was a wide driveway divided by a median of pink and white petunias.
    I drove on past, looking for somewhere to pull in across the street. The last thing I needed was to blow my cover on the Fabrizio investigation by showing up with my badge and gun on the security videos of one of their clients. I turned into a pharmacy, hooked a quick right, and drove to the end of the parking lot, pulling into a spot that faced Whispering Pines. Leaving the engine running, I reached under the seat and pulled out my father’s old high-powered field glasses. I scanned the front of the building for a sticker or sign featuring the Cyber-Shield trademark green logo. I saw none. As Harold had noted, there was a security camera mounted over the front door, but it was black and bore no security company logo.
    Good.
    We drove across the street to Whispering Pines. Though the development appeared to have been constructed a few decades earlier and bore a few telltale rust stains under the outdoor faucets, for the most part it had been well maintained. The place comprised three separate five-story wings anchored by a central, one-story section that, according to the signage, contained the administrative offices, dining facilities, and recreation rooms. A large fountain greeted visitors from the center of a colorful and fragrant rose garden. The rest of the grounds were groomed as well, park benches and picnic tables placed here and there for residents to enjoy the outdoors.
    We parked in a designated visitors’ spot and passed under the security camera as we entered through the automated front door. Though I’d seen nothing to indicate Cyber-Shield provided security to the home, I averted my face in an abundance of caution. It never hurt to be too careful, right?
    The foyer floor was tiled in a red and black checkerboard pattern. When Lu and I had made it across the space to the receptionist, I was tempted to holler King me!
    “I’m Special Agent Tara Holloway,” I told the woman at the desk, handing her my business card. I held out a hand to indicate Lu. “This is my boss, Luella Lobozinski. We need to speak with the person who handles your on-site security.”
    “That would be Mickey.” She retrieved a walkie-talkie from her desk and pushed a button to activate the mic. “Hey, Mickey. There’s some people here from the gov’ment want to speak with you.”
    A male voice came back. “Give me five minutes to finish this sink.”
    She returned the radio to the desk. “Mickey’s in charge of maintenance, too. He’s kind of a jack-of-all-trades around here.” The woman pointed to a seating area nearby. “Y’all can take a seat if you’d like.”
    Lu and I sat down on a black vinyl love seat and looked up at the television mounted on the wall. Steve Harvey filled the screen, hosting Family Feud in one of his pimp-style suits. A family had been challenged to name five things you might lose on vacation. After getting on the board with cell phone and camera, they earned their first strike with virginity .
    A man wearing blue coveralls and carrying a red toolbox stepped up to us. He looked to be in his mid-fifties and had the lean, strong build of someone who makes a living with physical labor. “I’m Mickey. I was told you two were looking for me?”
    Lu and I stood. I explained the situation to him. “I’m hoping your camera out front picked up the van’s license plate.”
    “Follow me to my office,” he said. “We can review the tape there.”
    He led us to a clean, sparsely furnished office at the far end of the administrative wing. As Lu and I took seats in the padded chairs that faced his desk, he slid