Eeny Meany Miny Die (Cat Sinclair Mysteries) (24 page)

BOOK: Eeny Meany Miny Die (Cat Sinclair Mysteries)
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"Then it must be true," she said with a cute smile. "Taylor wouldn't lie. He's as honest as the day is long. Never done a thing wrong in his life. Well, maybe he stole a Slurpee or two from the 7-Eleven where he worked before Play Group, but we all did that in our old day jobs, right?" She winked at me and I relaxed a little.

My question hadn't rattled her at all. If I had to guess, she was telling the truth.

Still, she was the most likely person to have planted the photos in Frank's case. If he hadn't put them there himself, that is. I tried a couple more questions.

"So Taylor would never have sex with a minor?"

She gasped in so much air that she began to choke. One hand patted her chest and the other flapped in front of her face. "Of course not! No way."

"I just wondered if that's why there were photos of Taylor at all. He told me they were dangerous because he was gay, but I'm not sure it would create the stir he's implying. Not these days. Maybe the photos are such a big deal because the other guy was a minor."

"Jesus, Cat," she said. Her flapping and patting stopped. Now one hand rested on her hip while the other made imploring gestures to me, much like Gina and the Italian half of her family during an argument. Now there was a family who knew how to gesticulate. Cut off their hands and they wouldn't be able to form a coherent sentence.

I was beginning to wonder if Cindy was right and Angel over-compensated with her hands when she was acting. If so, then she was lying. Her hands had taken over ever since I began my questioning.

"Look," she said, fixing those eyes on me again and sucking me into their depths. "I never saw those photos of Taylor, but I'm sure the police will inspect them closely. If blowing them up can reveal the face of the other guy, then they'll be able to identify him. If he does turn out to be a minor—" She cut herself off with a wild chopping motion. "No, he won't be. Taylor wouldn't do that. He just wouldn't."

"You're right. Of course. Taylor is a great guy. All the members of the group are great. I can see why you're such good friends."

"Yeah, we are. It might seem a little too close to some outsiders, but when we’re touring a lot, it's inevitable that we would rely on each other so much."

"That's why I'm surprised Jenny never spoke to you about Frank's investment scheme until recently."

She frowned. "But she did. She told me when she decided to let Frank invest her money. You must be mistaken. Ask her again."

"Oh. Okay. I'm sure you're right and I've misremembered." Either she or Jenny were lying then, because Jen told me she'd only just informed Angel.

"We discussed the high risk factor," Angel went on. "But she went ahead with it, because the return would be excellent if it came through."

"You explained all that to her?"

"I didn't need to. She's actually quite clever. The dumb thing is a bit of an act."

Were we discussing the same person? I almost contradicted her, but bit my tongue. I didn't want her to suspect I knew she was lying. This time I was positive. I'd known Jenny for years. She had as much common sense as a seven-year-old. In fact, most seven-year-olds were sponges. Jenny had trouble remembering the simplest lines for her auditions.

"My asshole of a husband didn't tell her it was a fake company he was investing in," Angel went on. She glanced in the mirror and touched her finger to each corner of her mouth. "I can't believe he'd do that to her. To his client and my friend!" Finally she stroked her hair, shot me a smile, and headed toward the door.

I followed her back out to the restaurant. We were still some several feet away from our table when all the members of Play Group turned as one and beamed at her.

I wanted to get the other members alone too, but Corey was the only one I managed to separate. That's probably because I hooked my arm through his as soon as we got up from the table to leave, and I held him back for a slow walk out of the restaurant.

"She's gorgeous, isn't she?" I began.

"A stunner," he said. "Inside and out."

Interesting that he automatically assumed I was referring to Angel. "Have you heard about the photo of Taylor that the police found in Frank's possession?"

The wiry muscles in his arm flexed beneath my hand. "Yeah. Why?"

"Do you know who the other guy was?"

"No."

"He was blond."

He stopped and blinked at me. "It wasn't me!"

"I didn't say it was."

"Cat, is there something you want to ask me? Otherwise I'd like to walk with Angel if you don't mind."

For fuck's sake! I might as well be invisible to them when Angel was around.

We'd reached the foyer of the restaurant. The others had gone ahead and were already out the door. The doorman held it open and waited for us. I needed to be quick and to the point.

"You love her, don't you?" I asked Corey.

He gave me a sheepish smile and seemed to relax. "Head over heels. It's pretty obvious isn't it?"

I nodded. "You know that gives you both a motive for killing Frank."

He winced. "Yeah, we know. Shit, Cat, you've got to prove us innocent. Right now, it's not looking good, but I can't not love her. Especially now. She needs me."

"You're a rock for her, Corey, I can see that. But I thought you both had other affairs."

"We have in the past, but lately it's been just us. We're in love. I can admit it now that Frank's gone, although Angel wants me to play it down until they've arrested someone for the murder. Like you, she thinks it'll make us look suspicious in the cops' eyes."

No shit. Both Angel and Corey had shot up to be my number one suspects. Except something still bothered me. "So she told you she loves you?"

He nodded. "Dozens of times."

"Right, but I've also heard her tell Jenny and Taylor that she loves them too."

"In a platonic way. We're all good friends. There's nothing sexual with them, only me. What we have is unique." His eyes turned misty, wistful, as he stared at Angel and the others beyond. "Now that she's free of Frank, we can get married."

Angel stood amid her friends on the sidewalk, staring back at me, not Corey. A smile formed on her lips, but it didn't meet her eyes. It sent a shiver down my spine. Either she was jealous of her lover speaking to me in private, or she was worried he was telling me something that would incriminate her.

He hadn't. What he had done was incriminate himself. He'd just given me the best motive yet for killing Frank. Jealousy, and a desire to have Angel to himself.

***

It was late when I got home, but I called Will anyway. I got his voicemail again. I thought about calling the local hospitals, but decided that would just make me look desperate. Chances were he wasn't answering me as payback. It's what I used to do to him sometimes.

I went to bed, but tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The Karvea case was churning through my mind. Speaking to Angel and Corey had opened up new possibilities, but possibilities that worried me. I liked Angel and the others. I didn't want any of them to be guilty, but I needed to keep an open mind.

I needed to speak to someone about it too. I'd tried talking to Gina in the cab on the way home, but she'd fallen asleep on my shoulder after five minutes. I didn't want to wake Mom either, or risk interrupting whatever it was she and Peter got up to at night. Eewwww.

I switched on my lamp and fetched pen and paper. I tucked myself back in bed and began to write down my thoughts on the case. The phone rang as I was listing the known facts. I snatched it up on the second ring.

"Hey," came Will's smooth, masculine voice. "You're still awake?

"Of course I'm still awake! I've been lying here worrying about you. Where are you and why didn't you answer my calls?" God, I sounded needy. I hated being needy.

There was a hesitation on Will's end. "You were worried about me?"

"Of course! You never let my calls go unanswered for that long. So is this your way of punishing me?"

"Whoa, back up. Cat, it's late, I'm tired, and you're not making sense. Start again."

I sighed. This wasn't going well. After the crap day I'd had, plus the way our relationship was going, I just wanted the day to end. "If you weren't answering me just to show me what it's like to have your calls ignored, then that's a lousy, petty thing to do, Will. I've never let any of your calls go deliberately." Except for the couple of times it was absolutely necessary to not hear his lecture.

"It wasn't deliberate. I had my phone switched off because I was sneaking around the NTS office after dark. I switched it back on when I got back to my car. I'm sitting there now."

Double crap. I was such a lousy person. I should have known he'd never treat me as badly as I've treated him sometimes. I felt even worse. "You haven't even gone home yet?"

"No. Your second message sounded kind of hysterical, so I thought I'd better call you back straight away. Are you okay? Has anyone tried to kill you in the last few hours?"

"Ha ha."

"See, I can joke about your murder too."

It was so warped and lovely of him that I couldn't help laughing. "I'm sorry, Will. I thought…" I blew out a breath and snuggled down in the bed. "It doesn't matter. I'm just not used to you not answering me on the first ring. But it's a good thing. I should get used to it. You're not at my beck and call."

"Oh-kay."

Silence followed. I didn't know what to say to break it. Besides, I had the feeling I would say something that made me sound like a blathering idiot. Something
else
, that is.

Thankfully Will broke first. "I better go. It's late and I need my beauty sleep."

I tried to laugh but it came out hollow. "Thanks for calling back."

We sounded like two acquaintances, or worse, like boss and employee. Not like lovers.

He hung up before I could ask if he could come over. It was probably just as well. I didn't think we were in the right place to have makeup sex. You have to makeup for that, and I wasn't sure that we could. Our problem wasn't a misunderstanding that could be resolved with a few words. It ran deeper and was complex.

I only hoped we could claw back some of what we had before it was completely broken.

***

My ringing phone woke me up the next morning. It was Saturday. At first I thought it was Will calling to ask if he could come round. We could spend the day together and smooth things over. One glance at the screen dashed those thoughts. It was Scarface.

"You alone?" was the first thing he asked me.

"Yes."

He hung up.

The buzzer for the apartment complex door rang. I got up and let him, in then filled the kettle with water while I waited for him to climb the stairs. He shut the door behind himself and joined me in my tiny kitchen. It felt even smaller with him in it.

He leaned his hip against the bench and his one eye traveled the length of my body. "Cute jammies."

My pajamas were a pair of shorts and a loose T-shirt with puppies on it. I hadn't noticed how short they were until he looked at my legs like he wanted to lick them.

"So why's Knight not here?" he asked. "You two fighting?"

I hated how he seemed to know everything about me. Not only did it mess with my head, but it meant I was always at a disadvantage. I knew almost nothing about him. "Will and I are fine. What's that?"

He handed me a large envelope. "Something you might be interested in for your case."

I opened it and pulled out two photographs. They were the same photos I'd found in Frank's case the night he died, but blown up. Taylor's face was huge as he stared almost directly at the lens. The other guy's face wasn't so clear, but it was better than the smaller print. Clear enough to make out who it was.

"Linc," I whispered. "Fucking hell."

Scarface crossed his arms over his chest. "Why do you say that?"

From the way he asked it, I guessed he already knew, but was trying to find out if I knew, and maybe if my information differed from his.

"Cindy will explode when she sees these," I said. "She's incredibly possessive."

"And?"

"And you already know. According to Taylor, these were taken two years ago. Linc's only eighteen now. Taylor is twenty-six."

"Interesting you say that, because he initially told us they were taken two years ago too. Then I showed him these first thing this morning and he claimed they were taken only a couple months ago, after Linc turned eighteen."

"Do you believe him?"

"No."

I studied the photos again. It showed their faces only, and Linc's was side-on. "Have you shown these to Linc?"

He shook his head. "That's why I'm here. I want a favor."

"And here I thought you were showing me these to help me out."

He pushed off from the bench and crossed the space between us. He placed his palms on either side of the bench beside me and grazed my throat with his lips. His warm breath heated my blood, sending it pumping through my veins. "Why would I want to help you? I want to win our bet."

I swallowed and put my hand to his chest, gently pushing him away. He stepped back, and gave me an amused look without quite smiling.

"Coffee?" I offered, removing two cups from the cupboard.

"Instant?"

"Yes."

"No thanks."

I returned one cup and spooned coffee into mine. "So you need me to speak to Linc for you," I said. "Why?"

"I want you to find him for me."

"Me? You have the city's resources at your disposal and yet you think
I'll
find him? Do you really think I'm that good?"

He rolled his eyes. "I think you're that lucky. Besides, he trusts you."

"He does?"

"More than he trusts us. He's not at the hotel, and Cindy said he didn't come home last night. She's worried. She said he's gone out all night before, but never in a strange city."

I stirred the coffee and sipped. It wasn't nearly enough to wake me up properly, but it was better than nothing. "She thinks he's lost?"

"He's not a missing dog," he said.

"Tell her that. I'm surprised she doesn't make him wear a leash."

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