Authors: Nancy Bush
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Man-Woman Relationships, #revenge, #Romance, #Thrillers, #Romantic suspense fiction, #Murder, #Mystery Fiction, #Murderers, #Female Friendship, #Crime, #Suspense, #Accidents
―And she‘s made a big mistake.‖ Metzger paused, letting the scenario sink in.
―So, she takes off and now we‘re looking for her,‖ Danner said after a moment. ―What kind of person is Sheila?‖ he asked Wiis. ―You think she has any remorse?‖
Rick thought a moment. ―No.‖
―She likes money?‖ Metzger asked.
Rick laughed without humor. ―She would cut the ring off her dying grandmother‘s hand.‖
―She didn‘t get the big payoff from Lloyd,‖ Danner said. ―His financial records show he sold his stocks over the last few months. He says to pay for his wife‘s care. But it was a lot of money, and it‘s just waiting in a bank account now.‖
―Think she‘d try to come back for it? Contact Lloyd? Maybe see if they can pick things up again?‖ Metzger posed.
―She‘s too smart,‖ Rick said.
―It‘s a lot of money,‖ Danner pressed.
Rick looked from one to the other of them. ―Maybe . . . after a long time . . . but I saw where he got arrested.‖
―Good lawyer might get him off,‖ Danner said, thinking of Charisse Werner and how pissed she‘d been at him that morning. He didn‘t really believe Jarvis Lloyd had a snowball‘s chance in hell of getting out of this mess unscathed, but Rick Wiis didn‘t have to know that.
As if suddenly deciding it was time to cash in his chips, Wiis blurted, ―She bunked with Magda for a while. On the east side.‖
―How do we get hold of this Magda?‖ Danner asked, but Rick was already turning to his desk and a black book.
As they left the place, Elaine said, ―A smoking jacket and a little black book. Seriously?‖
―He‘s living the dream,‖ Danner said, and Metzger‘s snort was loud enough to cause a newly arriving male patron in a sharp gray suit to give her a look as he pushed into Rick‘s.
―Guess I‘m not his type,‖ she said.
―But he was yours,‖ Danner responded, and the laugh he chased out of her nearly doubled her over.
The Cellar was exactly as advertised: a cellar. The main entrance was down a flight of concrete steps painted red, the paint chipped off from many footsteps; the rail was a piece of gray metal pipe. At the base of the stairs was a door with a circular window that Danner pushed open.
Inside stood a maître d‘s podium with a gaunt, tattooed, dark-haired man standing behind it whose hair flopped forward into a Flock of Seagulls wave over his eyes. He said, ―Take a seat anywhere,‖
and Danner, with Coby‘s hand tucked into his elbow, led the way into a dark, black hole with wooden chairs scattered around the perimeter of a dance floor, and a chain-link fence dividing the dance floor from the bar, which was decorated with multicolored Christmas lights that spilled onto the chain-link divider.
Danner had picked Coby up at her apartment at her request and they‘d driven to a local burger joint called Shake It Up near the Cellar that Coby had heard had fabulous hamburgers. Shake It Up had come through as advertised, though its real specialty appeared to be shakes and malts.
Coby and Danner had each ordered a burger, then shared an order of fries. Afterward, they drove to the Cellar, and by the time they were sliding several chairs around one of the tiny round tables it was after eight. Jarrod‘s band was the scheduled first act and were slated to appear on stage at nine.
As Coby and Danner sat down, angling their chairs toward the stage, a waitress in ripped jeans and a black midriff leather top took their order of two Coors Lights. Coby wasn ‘t about to trust the wine in the place, but she also wasn‘t ready for hard liquor.
Now she slid a glance toward Danner, who was lost in his own thoughts, but she knew he was probably reviewing what she‘d told him at Shake It Up about her slashed tires and threatening note. She‘d put off telling him as long as she could, not wanting to travel down that road till she had to. But it hadn‘t gone particularly well.
The evening had started with Danner briefing her at Shake It Up on his meeting with Genevieve the night before. He‘d told her all about it and Coby had listened attentively with one ear. Danner had ended his tale with, ―Gen said she was probably going to be at the Cellar tonight.‖
Coby had surfaced enough to hear something unsaid in that statement, something uncertain.
―What‘s wrong?‖
―She just . . . lost a little bit of focus while I was there. From the wine.‖
Coby could easily read between those lines, but Genevieve was Danner‘s sister-in-law and she simply nodded and therefore glossed over Gen‘s obvious inebriation. She responded to the bulk of his narrative instead. ―So, she blames Yvette, too.‖
―Maybe because she just doesn‘t like her,‖ was Danner‘s response.
―Yvette‘s hard to like,‖ Coby agreed.
―But it doesn‘t make her a killer.‖
―Are you going to interview her in person soon?‖
―I was thinking Monday, after you talk to Hank Sainer,‖ he said. ―She works at Xavier‘s in Laurelton as a barmaid, so maybe Monday afternoon.‖
―If whatever Hank wants to talk to me about seems to have something to do with Annette‘s death, I‘ll urge him to take it up with you. I‘m not a lawyer, so there‘s no expectation of attorney-client privilege, but if it has to do with Benedict‘s paternity, he might be afraid of letting it all out.‖
―Sounds good,‖ Danner had said and they finished their meal and headed toward the Cellar.
Now Coby eyed him surreptitiously. She‘d carefully kept the events of her afternoon from him for reasons she didn‘t quite understand until they were walking from the Wrangler toward the club‘s entrance, when she‘d surprised herself, even, by bursting out with, ―Someone slashed my tires today. All four of them. And left me a note on my windshield in black marker: ‗You don‘t belong.‖‘
Danner had stopped short and stared at her. ―What? Why didn‘t you tell me?‖
―I . . . don‘t know. I guess I wanted it to be something else . . . but . . .‖
While she stumbled around for an answer, he suddenly grabbed her arms and said, ―Coby,‖
in a voice that was like a slap of cold water.
She pulled herself together. ―I know. I was afraid to say something.‖ She told him about calling Faith and getting her tires replaced, finishing with, ―I think I‘ve made someone nervous.‖
―You shouldn‘t be a part of this investigation,‖ was his flat response. ―Christ, I‘m an idiot!‖
―No. Nope. This is what I was worried about!‖ she said. ―Don‘t stop me. Don‘t get overprotective. I‘m in this by choice. You‘re just helping out the TCSD, and it‘s not your call!‖
―I want you safe!‖
―I can take care of myself!‖
They glared at each other for several tense moments, and then he added quietly, ―I couldn‘t live with myself if anything happened to you.‖
She‘d wanted to throw herself in his arms and wrap herself around him, drag him to bed and make love till the sun came up, but she knew better than to run on pure emotion. ―Give me some credit,‖ she told him. ―I‘m not putting myself in crazy danger here. This . . . message . . . is a warning, but so what? We‘re tweaking somebody‘s tail and that‘s what we need, isn‘t it? And besides, they‘re cowardly, otherwise you would have been their target, not me. They‘re afraid of you and so they sent the message to me.‖
―I don‘t like it,‖ he stated emphatically.
―I‘m okay. I‘m right here. And on Monday, after I see Hank, maybe we‘ll know something more. We could even learn something tonight, depending on who shows up. ‖
Danner had let the discussion die, but Coby knew he‘d just put it on hold for a while. Now she turned to him and said, ―Are we going to get past this, or do you want to leave?‖
―Goddammit,‖ he muttered.
―Danner, you‘re not my keeper.‖
―Somebody killed Annette,‖ he reminded her tensely.
―And we‘re going to figure out who that is. Together.‖
He shook his head. ―All I want is to get you as far out of harm‘s way as possible. I want to go back to your place. I want to drink wine and kiss you all over and get naked and fall in bed together.‖
Coby laughed, amused and relieved. ―Well, join the club. We could go right now.‖
In the dim light his gaze captured hers and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Her pulse started to race. Then Danner groaned, closed his eyes, and muttered nearly unintelligible invectives before saying regretfully, ―I have an issue with my brother that I have to take care of.‖
―Well, I‘m free later,‖ Coby said lightly.
His eyes opened and he finally relaxed a little. ―That a promise?‖
―Uh-huh.‖
He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. ―I wish to hell this Deneuve case was resolved.‖
―And the Lloyd case.‖
―That one‘s coming along,‖ Danner admitted, seeming glad to change the subject, which was fine with Coby. ―My partner, Elaine Metzger, who‘s been on vacation, called today, and she and I went to interview a guy, show him a picture of our suspect. He‘s one of those guys who insulates himself with an entourage, though he‘s pretty penny-ante on the big-shot scale. But Metzger‘s a bulldog who doesn‘t give a shit. She‘s a tank, more in spirit than size, and she just barreled in and we managed to see this demigod without his entourage and he eventually coughed up a lead.‖
―To the killer?‖
He nodded. ―The woman we‘re looking for roomed with another woman named Magda for a short time. We contacted Magda and at first she swore she didn‘t know anything about Sheila, our suspect. Then later she said Sheila rented a car from Enterprise; Magda saw the sticker. A Toyota sedan. We‘ve got dates around the time the car was rented and Metzger‘s on it, checking with every Enterprise car rental in the city. Sheila may not be her real name, but we‘ve got the sketch. Just a matter of time, I think, till we find where she went.‖
―That‘s great,‖ Coby said.
He nodded slowly. ―If only the Deneuve case were so clear. On the trail of just one suspect.‖
She circled the bottom of her beer bottle along the scarred tabletop, moving it through rings of condensation. She didn‘t want to wade back into the same dangerous waters, but she had other things to tell him, too. ―We keep circling around Yvette, and next week you‘ll talk to her . . . and she is unlikable and she lied about Lucas being Benedict‘s father, though she was only seventeen at the time. . . .‖
Danner waited for her to go on, but Coby had stopped. ―And you‘re wondering if she‘s at the top of the suspect list for reasons that might have nothing to do with Annette,‖ he finished.
―Exactly. Everybody thinks Yvette‘s involved in Annette‘s murder. Maybe accidentally, maybe not. Both Wynona and McKenna think she‘s capable of killing her sister. Maybe she is. How do you know?‖
―You keep looking. Asking questions. Piecing everything together.‖ He said it reluctantly, still not wanting her involved.
But she
was
involved. ―Let me tell you about the rest of my evening with McKenna, Ellen, and Theo,‖ she said, subtly reminding him, and then she related everything she could recall of what she‘d talked with them about in the green room.
When she was finished, Danner picked out one point: ―This death of Theo‘s ex-girlfriend. I think I remember it. A couple of years after I was out of high school. She died at her gym.
Somewhere in Gresham. What‘s her name?‖
―Heather McCrae. And the gym-rat boyfriend is Ed Gerald. I know it was an accident and unrelated to anything else, but all these deaths . . .‖ She shook her head.
―People die,‖ Danner said.
She nodded.
―But it‘s just one death more attached to your group.‖
―Yes,‖ Coby said. ―It just feels like Heather‘s death should mean something, even if it doesn‘t. Like Rhiannon‘s.‖
―I can look up this Ed Gerald.‖ He shrugged. ―No stone unturned.‖
―Good.‖
The conversation lulled, and Coby took the opportunity to say, ―I want to ask you a question, and maybe you can‘t answer it, but I have to ask.‖
―Shoot.‖
―Is my dad a suspect? Has anyone from the sheriff‘s department said anything to you? Can you tell me?‖
He hesitated, then said, ―Information is going mostly one way, from me to them.‖
―If you learn anything, could you warn me?‖ She knew she was walking a thin line, but she had to know. ―He‘s my dad.‖
―I don‘t think the TCSD is anywhere near an arrest,‖ was his careful answer. ―That I would know.‖
―Okay.‖ She felt herself blush, knowing she was putting him in a compromising position.
And then suddenly Genevieve trooped in, followed by Vic and Paul, and then Juliette, Suzette, and Galen. Spying Coby and Danner, they surged toward their table, grabbing chairs and another couple of tables, which were a hot commodity because there were so few of them. By the time they were all seated their group took up one corner of the dance floor.
Genevieve sank into a chair next to Coby. When the waitress cruised by, everyone ordered a drink with alcohol except Gen, who asked for a Diet Coke. She glanced around and, seeing Danner‘s gaze lingering on her, stated flatly, ―I‘m my own designated driver tonight.‖
Coby gazed from her to Danner, who said simply, ―Good thinking.‖
―It‘s like a high school reunion around here,‖ Vic observed. He‘d lost weight since high school, and his hair had thinned, but overall, he looked better, Coby thought.
Suzette said, ―Kirk told Juliet that you guys were coming tonight, so I told Vic and Paul.‖
―I mentioned it to McKenna last night after her show,‖ Coby added. ―But I think she‘s got another show tonight.‖
Gen gave her a hard look. ―You saw McKenna‘s act? How was she?‖ she demanded.
―Great, actually. You know who else was there to see her? Ellen. And Theo.‖
―Together?‖ Juliet asked, startled.
―Surprising, huh?‖ Coby nodded. ―And they‘re back together. A couple.‖
―When did that happen?‖ Suzette asked in surprise and Juliet appeared to be trying to ask the same, but Suzette beat her to it. ―Another of us together,‖ Suzette added, smiling beatifically at Galen.
Coby said, ―You‘d have to ask them. They seemed really happy.‖
―Theo‘s with Ellen again,‖ Paul said slowly, shaking his head as if he couldn‘t believe it.
―You know his ex-girlfriend died in that freak gym accident. Knocked the bar onto her neck and suffocated herself. Couldn‘t lift it up.‖