Page 52 of Mission: Possible

"I would have definitely ordered more egg rolls if it were my last supper," I said, nodding in agreement.

Solomon regarded me. "That's all?"

I shrugged. "Potstickers too," I decided. "If I hafta go out like a light, I'm grabbing all the good stuff first. Chicken fried rice. That crispy beef thing we both like. Maybe throw in a banana fritter."

"And to wash it down?"

"Cocktails. Something fruity. Maybe a flashing ice cube."

Solomon narrowed his eyes. "Have you been thinking about this for a long time?"

"No thought required." Movement caught my attention and I leaned in to get a better view, then sighed. Exactly whom I thought it was: Garrett. I wasn't surprised to see him. Murder was his business, far more than Jord's, even though my youngest brother was the first detective to arrive on scene.

"This is a surprise," said Garrett, strolling towards us like we arranged to meet at the park for a picnic. "Just like a family reunion. Again."

"Daniel isn't here," I pointed out.

"He's busy on another case," said Garrett. "But three out of five siblings, a couple of in-laws, and an FBI agent slash ex-detective are pretty good going."

My phone began to buzz and I checked the screen. I sighed. I held it up so Garrett could see. "How does she know?" I asked. "There is no way Mom or Dad know anyone on this street!"

"You'd be surprised. Mom's network is far-reaching."

I ignored the buzzing and stuck the phone back into my pocket. If Mom's network were so extensive, she could find out from someone else what we were doing. She probably already had the crucial information: none of her children were injured. Before I could say anything else, Garrett's phone trilled. He reached for it, sighed, and put it in his pocket.

"Who's the stiff?" he asked, glancing towards the house.

"That's an excellent question," said Solomon.

"And the answer is?" Garrett waited.

"We don't know yet," I told him. "Solomon and Delgado tracked the getaway van from the bank to this location and the dead guy was inside the house."

"The bank? As in the heist? Jord's case?" Garrett scratched his chin.

"The very same," said Solomon.

"That's why we called Jord. Investigating a bank heist is one thing. A murder quite another," I pointed out. "It's too much of a coincidence for the cases not to be related. Are you going to work together on this?"

Garrett shrugged. "Most likely. The DA already started making noises about sticking an attempted murder charge on the robbers when they're caught. He's up for re-election next year and prosecuting an attempted murder on a cop is good publicity," he explained, raising a hand to wave to Jord as he walked towards us. "Plus, going hard on a bank hold-up makes terrific headlines."

"So, the ME is taking a look now but I'm certain this is murder and not self-inflicted. Garrett, do you want to confirm?" asked Jord. Garrett nodded. "I ran the plates on the van in the garage and it was stolen a week ago from a car lot. I noticed a key tossed on the driver seat. Nothing in the back but I'm going to have the techs go over it for any trace evidence."

"I'm surprised they didn't dump and burn it," said Maddox. "Seems careless."

"You're still here," said Solomon.

Maddox half-smiled. "Burgers," he replied.

"There are burgers?" asked Garrett. He sniffed the air. "Where?"

Solomon sighed. "What is it with you all and your empty stomachs?"

"You've seen how we were raised," I told him as I checked my watch. It had been a long time since lunch and although seeing the corpse briefly put me off, the hunger pangs started up again. "Maddox has a point. Why didn't the thieves burn the van? They had to know MPD would be on high alert looking for it and the moment it was identified, it would be too hot to move."

"There's not a lot of security around here," said Delgado. "I figured they drove the van into the garage and everyone took off. Or maybe the crew were dropped off on the way so they could disperse. It's not like they were carrying large bags filled with cash. Could be that the driver was supposed to dump it right away, or hide the vehicle and dispose of it when everything quieted down. The alley is overgrown enough that no one would go searching there."

"You said the key was in the van? Maybe they hoped someone would steal it? The next thief gets caught and ends up an accidental patsy," I suggested. "No one would believe they just 'happened' to steal the van and didn't have anything to do with the prior crime."