Never Sorry: A Leigh Koslow Mystery (24 page)

"Then Tanner should be off the hook, too," Leigh said hopefully.

"Why? You don't know when he got there, do you?"

She thought about it. She assumed he had arrived just before she did, but she didn't know that for a fact. "No," she answered glumly.

Katharine's attention turned back to the report.

"Stacey was stabbed once in the upper back. The blade penetrated the left lung and nicked the left pulmonary artery, causing massive hemorrhage and death within minutes. Yet in your statement you used the word 'shot.' Excellent. Ignorance is bliss. Tanner wasn't so lucky. He seemed to know she was stabbed, even though no murder weapon was found near the body."

Leigh swallowed. Whoever killed Stacey must have taken the knife with them. Why? Had they known they would be framing someone?

"Leigh," Katharine said seriously, taking off her glasses. "What the appearance of the knife in your apartment means is that you are no longer merely a victim of circumstances. You are being deliberately set up."

A chill crept down Leigh's back and didn't fizzle until it reached her socks. The concept was no surprise, but hearing Katharine say it brought the facts into alarming focus.

"Dena Johnson's statement about seeing you at the tiger run the night Carmen was murdered may be part of the plan, and it may not. Either way, this woman knows something. Unfortunately, she has repeatedly refused to meet with me, and has said in no uncertain terms that she does not want to see you. I talked with Maura Polanski shortly before you came in—she's going to see what she can get out of Dena this afternoon. Let's keep our fingers crossed."

Maura confronting Dena? Leigh couldn't quite picture it. Maura without her uniform was a fish out of water. But then, one never knew what Maura Polanski was capable of.

"If you'd been in your own apartment last night," Katharine continued soberly, "you might very well be back in the county jail today. Your friend's quick thinking is a big boon to our case. I talked to Frank this morning, and although he wouldn't admit it to me, I could tell he thinks the knife business was a frame job."

Katharine leaned forward at her desk. "As I said, I'm working on a pretrial motion to have the charges against you dropped. If our luck holds with these pathetic framing efforts, I think we've got a shot."

Leigh smiled broadly. So, there was light in the tunnel after all.

***

Maura walked up the hill past goat mountain, trying to remember where the bird house was. It had been years since her last visit to the Riverview Park Zoo. A sign soon guided her in the right direction, and she picked up her pace. She was tired, but thanks to last night's sleepover, not exhausted. And thankfully, she had two days off before starting the night shift again.

She was dressed in street clothes, since her role as private investigator forbade her to act as a cop. Her task, according to Katharine, was to find out why Dena Johnson had lied about seeing Leigh the night of the murder. Not an impossible task, given an ordinary police interrogation. A tremendously complicated one, given no real authority and a moral dilemma about lying.

She recognized the bird house when it came into sight, and decided that it hadn't changed much. It was still a relatively plain, concrete-block building with glass skylights, connected by screened walkways to a large outdoor aviary. Several women with strollers were heading through the main door into the building, and Maura tagged along after them.

Being inconspicuous was a challenge, which was one more reason she preferred police work over the private sector. As a cop, her physique was a definite plus. As a private investigator, it was a disaster waiting to happen.

She toured the building slowly, walking patiently behind the women as they pointed out brightly colored birds to their assortment of infants and toddlers. Maura looked too, but not at the birds so much as the building's layout. She knew that Dena worked here, along with another keeper named Tonya. So where did the staff hang out?

The path spiraled through the building in a lazy S, terminating in the entrance to the outdoor aviary. As the women and strollers plowed on, Maura peeled off from the group and slipped out an unlocked screened door marked "Employees Only." The staff area was clearly at the rear left of the building, and probably had its own outside entrance.

She skirted around the bird house's back corner, and much to her delight found the expected door standing open several inches. Hearing voices, she moved closer quietly.

"I couldn't believe they had the nerve to charge six dollars for parking!" a female voice complained. "And nothing but a mud field!  Like tickets don't cost enough already, you know?"

Another female voice agreed. "Tell me about it. Last concert I went to, we were stuck in the parking lot for
two hours
trying to get back on the highway!"

"Crazy," the first voice said. "That place needs paved or something. You know, with lanes and all."

Her strategy decided, Maura crept back around the building and went in the door she had come out of. She walked along the S path until she came to an unmarked door, then paused and knocked.

The door was soon opened by a short, pudgy woman with close-cropped blond hair, who looked at Maura with oversized, vacuous blue eyes. "Can I help you?"

"I hope so," Maura said pleasantly, reading "Dena Johnson" on the woman's nametag. "My name is Maura Polanski. I'm working as a private investigator for Leigh Koslow's attorney."

Dena's wide eyes stretched wider, then narrowed. "I can't help you," she said flatly. "And you shouldn't be knocking on this door. This is a staff-only area."

Maura forged ahead without pause. "I was wondering if you could help me find an ex-employee named Kristin Yates. She's our prime suspect now, you know."

The bird keeper's eyes widened as far as her mascara-laden lids would allow, her jaw dropping slightly in concert. "I don't know anything!" she said, her voice shaking. "Now leave me alone, or I'll call security."

"No, ma'am," Maura said cheerfully. "That won't be necessary. I'll go. Thank you for your time."

Dena Johnson shut the door quickly as Maura turned and headed back toward the front entrance. Once out of sight, she doubled back, went out the back door, and crept around the outside of the building again.

Eureka. The outer door to the staff area was still open. Maura moved in carefully, craning her ears. She needn't have bothered—the volume of the voices inside had doubled.

"What do you think she meant, Kristin is the prime suspect?" Dena sounded on the verge of hysteria. "She couldn't be!  Leigh Koslow was already arrested!"

"She was lying," the second voice answered. "She works for Leigh, doesn't she?"

"But why ask me about Kristin?" Dena railed. "Why should they think I know anything about Kristin?"

"They probably found out you were friends. Don't sweat it."

"Do you think they know Kristin was here that night?"

The second voice sighed in exasperation. "Calm down, will you! How could they know? Nobody saw her but you and me. If they had, they would have said something."

There was a pause, during which someone seemed to be pacing. "Maybe she meant Kristin was a suspect about Tanner's ex," Dena said hopefully. "Do you think that's it?"

"How should I know? Stop that!" Maura heard a dull thwack, and the pacing stopped.

"I can't help it, Tonya!" Dena whined. "I don't want Kristin to get in trouble, I mean, especially not now, with the baby coming and all. But no way am I letting myself get screwed over for this!"

"You won't."

"I could!"

"It's your word against hers."

"Whose?"

"Leigh Koslow's, dimwit!"

"Stop calling me that!" Dena screeched. "You're not the one that could go to jail for—" She faltered. "What do they call it when you lie to a judge or whatever?"

"Are you going to obsess about this all afternoon?" Tonya barked, ignoring the question. "Or are you going to do the finches?"

Maura stood frozen in position until the sound of the inside door opening and closing indicated the show was over. She smiled to herself, crept back around to the outdoor aviary, and completed her tour. "Perjury, my dear," she said softly to the darting swallows overhead. "The word is perjury."

***

For the first time ever, Leigh had left Katharine's office in a good mood. So good, she had spent the next few hours hanging around Station Square, and had even indulged in a double dip of caramel turtle fudge in a sugar cone. Fortified, calorically and emotionally, she set out for Tanner's house.

Why Tanner chose to live so far from the zoo was a mystery. The drive was inconvenient enough that he often slept over at the zoo hospital, yet he showed no desire to move closer in. Leigh took her map of Allegheny County out of the glove compartment and located the road she'd heard Tanner mention, which was in Findlay Township, past the airport. It was a long road. What was his house number? She pulled over at a pay phone and looked in the white pages. "Tanner M.C., Beaudoin Rd Fndly Twp."
Thanks
. She started to close the book when she noticed another entry farther down. "Tanner S.P., Beaudoin Rd Fndly Twp."

She slammed the book shut. Mystery solved. Stacey lived in Findlay Township too. Or at least she had. Just how obsessed was Tanner with his ex?

She got back in her Cavalier and headed toward the airport. She was going to find Tanner's house if she had to scour the entire road. He said he was renting…was he renting from Stacey? Surely not. Obsession or no, she'd charge him a fortune. More likely she still lived in what had been their house, and he had rented his place to be near to her after the divorce.

Leigh shook her head with disgust. She had heard about the power of first loves—but please. If she'd married her first love she'd be living in some commune in California, eating organic tofu and growing marijuana in a shed.

Beaudoin road was unimpressive. Rural, with a blend of old and new houses dotting its sides only sporadically. Leigh drove from the midway point down to one end and back, checking every driveway for Tanner's truck. It was a wild goose chase, really. He could have his truck in a garage, or he could simply not be home. But she didn't mind the risk. It was October, the foliage was at its peak, and she was in the mood for a drive. And a confrontation.

She was almost to the end of the second half of the road when she spotted it. Tanner's truck. She had no doubts this time. She pulled off the road and onto the gravel driveway. The house was a newer one—a red brick ranch with a satellite dish. Her eyes narrowed. How could Tanner afford a place like this? It hardly looked like your typical bachelor rental.

Her heart sped up a bit as she approached the front door, but she willed it to slow down again. She was
not
going to find any bodies inside. That would be like getting struck by lightning three times, and remarkable things like that simply didn't happen to ordinary people like her.

She stepped onto the concrete porch and pressed the doorbell. A hanging basket of geraniums caught her attention, and her heart sped back up again. Tanner, into gardening? She was in the wrong place.

Before she could bolt, the door opened. "Leigh?" Tanner asked, clearly amazed. "What are you doing here?"

She looked at his bloodshot eyes and rumpled clothes and felt mildly sorry for him. But only mildly. Though he didn't appear inebriated, the odor of beer lingered pungently on his breath, and the room behind him looked dark and smelled stale.

"Come in," he said automatically, moving quickly to open up the window shades and turn on a few lamps. "I didn't know you knew where this place was."

"I didn't," she answered. "I was just in the mood for a drive, so I thought I'd check it out. I knew you lived on Beaudoin Road, and I saw your truck."

"Oh," he said flatly.

"I heard you got out on bail yesterday," Leigh said cheerfully, trying to lighten the oppressive mood. "I'm glad. Did your brother come through?"

Tanner smiled. "Yep. Wynn was great about it. Even got me a lawyer. Not as fancy as yours, but he'll do."

Leigh picked up on an implied criticism, but chose to ignore it. Tanner was being cordial, but the endearing charm he had shown at the zoo was no longer there. She supposed she was no longer a plausible playmate. She was more like a partner in misery.

"I came by because I wanted to talk to you," she began, sitting down on a surprisingly expensive-looking couch. "I know that my lawyer and your lawyer are working together now, but there are still some things I want to hear from you. You know there's virtually no chance that Stacey's murder and Carmen's weren't related."

He nodded.

"You also know that whoever killed Stacey planted the murder weapon in my apartment last night."

Tanner nodded again.

Leigh was surprised by his lack of animation. "Well? What do you think is going on?"

Tanner sighed and dropped into a recliner. "Someone's killing the women I care about, that's what."