Rejection: Publishing Murder Mystery (Lou Drake Mysteries) (21 page)

Smythe was quiet for a moment, letting her think it through.

“So,” he said quietly, “you are involved with Andrade.”

Kathy licked her lips but couldn’t seem to find any moisture.

“Yes,” she said. “We’ve been lovers for over a year now. He keeps saying he’s going to leave his wife.”

“Has he ever discussed this case with you? Or have you overheard him talking about it with anyone else?”

Kathy’s head was swimming. She needed some time to think.

“Look Chief, with all due respect, you’re putting me in a difficult situation here.”

Smythe’s voice took on a harder edge.

“Okay,” he said, “then let me spell it out. You can tell me what you know and I’ll do my best to protect you.” He looked at her gravely. “Or you can protect Captain Andrade by remaining silent, and you may end up facing accessory charges.”

Kathy’s eyes widened.

“I know that sounded like a threat,” he continued, “but I assure you it’s not. In cases like this, the Detectives look into every aspect of the suspects’ lives. You would be questioned as an associate of interest. The initial assumption would likely be that you knew what was going on, and you did nothing. That’s where the accessory charges would come in.”

“And if I tell you what I know?”

“Then I can assure you the investigation will not include you.”

Kathy looked down to see that she was clenching her hands tightly. The knuckles had turned white. She tried to relax them.

“John never discussed Hennings with me directly,” she said, “but I did hear him talk about it with Collins.”

“What did they say?”

“It was all pretty vague. I just caught parts of references and whispers. John took calls from Collins when we were together, especially lately. Other than that I have no specifics. Though John has been more agitated than usual since Prichard and the FBI got involved. I just put it down to some sort of turf war.”

“I see.” Smythe said. “Will you let me know if you think of anything else?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“And I suggest you resist any temptation to warn Captain Andrade about our chat. If he finds out, then I’ll know it came from you. I’d have to consider that the act of an accessory.”

Kathy didn’t meet his stern gaze. She looked at her hands for a few moments, and then said, “Are you married?”

Smythe seemed surprised by the question.

“Yes,” he said, “thirty-eight years.”

“Have you ever cheated on your wife?”

Smythe stared at her for a moment and then shook his head.

“Never even came close.”

“Why do you think men cheat?”

“My opinion? Because they’re insecure and selfish. And because there are women willing to do it with them.”

Kathy realized as of that moment she no longer wanted to be that woman.

* * *

Andrade was glad to see Paula and his daughters go. He knew he had been a bear to live with lately, but the final straw came for his wife when he had slapped his eldest daughter for spilling her milk at dinner.

He apologized to Megan and begged her to forgive him, which she seemed to do. She him a hug and kiss to his cheek. Maria just watched from her mother’s side.

Once she had shooed the girls off to their bedrooms, Paula rounded on Andrade.

“The girls and I are going to go stay with my sister in Newport for a while.”

“Yes, I think that would be a good idea.”

“We’ll leave tomorrow. And when we’re gone I suggest you figure out a way to get your act together. You’ve been an asshole the last couple of week. I want to come home to a nice, happy husband.”

“I promise.”

“Don’t promise, just do it.”

With them gone he was free to shrug off his foul mood and take some comfort in Kathy Morey’s bed. When he arrived at her place, though, she was cold and wasn’t ready to go out. He pointedly checked his watch. Their dinner reservation was in less than an hour.

“What’s with you?” he said.

Kathy just sat on her couch, silent and angry.

“Baby,” he said, “talk to me.”

She gave him a look that would freeze fire.

He sighed deeply.

“Why are you sighing?” she snapped.

“I’m just confused. When I called you this morning you sounded like you wanted to see me.”

“Yeah, well that was earlier.”

“So what happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m just tired, okay? Tired of murders and mutilated bodies and cops and, well, everything.”

Andrade sat down beside her on the couch.

“Something’s got you really upset. What happened?”

Kathy didn’t answer him. She just stared straight ahead, breathing angrily through her nostrils.

“Sweetie, I—”

“Don’t sweetie me! Here’s what I really want to know. When are you going to leave your wife?”

Andrade recoiled as if he had been slapped.

“Are you serious?” he said. “You want to get into this now?”

“Why not now? The first time we had sex you swore you were semi available.”

She used her bowed fingers as quotation marks.

“You swore it was over,” she said. “You didn’t love your wife and promised, you promised, John, that you would leave her for me.”

“I still mean that.”

“It’s been over a year!”

“Yeah but everything is so complicated right now. There’s too much going on for me to have a scandal. I promise I’ll tell her when things calm down.”

“No you won’t!”

Kathy struggled with her tears.

“I’ve always known that but I was too flattered, too indebted to you for getting me a job. It was so comfortable knowing you never made any demands on me. It’s as much my fault as yours, probably more so.”

She turned her back on him, her shoulders heaving as the sobs took hold.

“Look,” he said, “if you’d just calm down we could—”

“What?” she said, rounding on him furiously. “What could we do? Have another night of lies, and then end it with a good lay? Is that what you’d like?”

Her chest heaved with emotion as tears streamed down her red, blotchy cheeks.

“Fine,” he said, standing up. “I’m going.”

He started across the room but she stopped him in his tracks.

“And make sure you don’t drag me into your mess,” she said.

Andrade turned slowly to look at her again. She was staring at the floor, arms and legs crossed, one foot tapping with agitation.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“I’m not stupid you know.”

“I know, but—”

“I hear things.”

That’s when Andrade figured out what all this was about. Someone hadn’t been able to keep his goddamned mouth shut.

“Who’s been talking to you?” he said.

Her flinch let him know he was right.

“No one,” she said, still not meeting his eyes.

Collins. It had to be Collins. Only a few people knew anything, and no one else but Collins ever had any reason to talk to Kathy. But why would Collins say anything? And why to Kathy? Andrade had no idea, but he was sure as shit going to find out.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
E
IGHT

EARLY MORNING SUN glinted off the windshield of Robin’s Honda as it rattled to a stop in front of Sweetum’s. A sheet of plywood covered the empty window frame, which made the old shop look abandoned. Her boss Kevin was waiting for her and they went to talk in the office.

“So what happened last night?” he said. “Did you piss off a customer?”

“No,” she said indignantly. “It was just some whacko who called on the phone.”

“Look Robin, I’ve got to get to the bottom of this. We’ve never had an incident like this. Was there anything?”

“No.”

“All right, I believe you. Sorry I had to ask.”

The window replacement company was due within the hour so the two of them got busy cleaning the store. Robin collected every piece of broken glass, while Kevin broke down each piece of equipment and inspected it for glass shards.

“The last thing we need,” he said, “is a lawsuit after a customer bites into an old fashioned and cuts his lip.”

Robin was almost finished sweeping the floor when Kevin called to her.

“Robin, what’s this?”

He was holding the box of doughnuts from the night before.

“I found this on the counter,” he said.

“Oh those,” she said. “When I was tossing the case I kept those to take home. After what happened I forgot them.”

“I see,” he said and opened the box to look inside. He looked back up at her with a pinched look on his face. “That’s theft.”

“You’re kidding, right? Everybody does it.”

“If they do, then I don’t know about it.”

“Kevin, it’s no big deal.”

Apparently Kevin disagreed. He fired her on the spot.

* * *

“C’mon Rob, you hated working there.”

She paced the tiny living room floor in Drake’s apartment. “But he used last night to get rid of me because he wanted to blame somebody.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he did. Maybe it even had something to do with insurance reasons.”

“Stop trying to make me feel better. I want to complain and I just want you to listen.”

Drake said nothing. He just smiled and shook his head.

“What’s that look about?” she said.

“I was thinking you can’t change what happened. And now you can find a better job.”

“Any job would be better than that one.”

“And in the meantime if you’re worried about money, I can help.”

Robin dropped into a chair.

“I’m just saying,” Drake said.

“Well don’t! I’m going to take a shower and wash the stink of that place off me.”

Robin ran the water as hot as she could stand it, soaping up and taking her time washing her hair. Damn Kevin and his cheap ass. She swore she’d never eat a doughnut again. Robin wrapped her hair in a towel. Her curves shone in the overhead light of Drake’s small bathroom.

With the shower no longer running she could hear the typewriter clacking. She had an odd fascination with the way Drake wrote. He claimed that his fingers could tell a better story than his lips.

“Think of it this way,” he had said the last time they talked about it. “When I was a Detective if I thought too much about a case I got lost. But if I let my instincts take over it was like the scene spoke to me. When I write I clear my head and allow my hands do the work and I’m amazed at how well they do.”

“You don’t think about the story?”

“Yeah, but not like you think. I know the story and I know what I want to say but if I think too hard it escapes me. So I trust my fingers and they go on a wild trip and the rest of me is along for the ride.”

She decided to not understand it, just support it. Since starting the book his mood had been so much better, more like the man she met seven years ago. Drake had become so morose in the last two years, then downright depressed after getting the cage detail. Now he smiled almost all the time. She was starting to hope he might retire and actually feel good about it.

But how could she ever retire herself? Damn that Kevin! She needed comfort food.

“Lou,” she called out as she rubbed herself dry.

“Hmmm?”

“I’m craving Molly’s. Let’s go to dinner. I have a hankering for their chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and cherry pie. Oh, and a strawberry shake.”

“Okay.”

She came out to the living room naked except for the head towel.

“Are you listening to me,” she said, “or just mumbling responses because your head is off and your fingers are working?

“What?”

He looked up and smiled at what he saw.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Molly’s.”

* * *

The restaurant was busy but not crowded, so they were able to request a seat by the window. Wind made the windows creak, sounding to Robin as if the gusts wished to join the diners in the comfortable eatery.

Drake smiled at the waitress and ignored the menu.

“I’ll have the Cobb salad,” he said.

The waitress made some sort of simple mark on her order pad and then looked at Robin. “And for you?”

Robin had no need for the menu either. She had been craving the chicken fried steak ever since she had mentioned it to Drake back at the apartment.

After the waitress was gone, Drake frowned and said, “That’s a lot of carbs, isn’t it?”

Robin felt an angry flush on her face.

“Excuse me?”

“My new diet says that—”

“I don’t give a damn what your new diet says,” she hissed.

“Look, I only meant that—”

“I know exactly what you meant. Go to hell!”

Robin shoved her chair back, stood up, and threw her napkin on the table. She turned without another word and angrily stalked out of the restaurant.

Drake struggled out of his chair.

“Robin wait!” he shouted and the room went quiet.

Robin could feel the eyes of the other patrons on her as she pushed out the door, but she was a long way from caring what anybody saw or thought.

She was striding down the sidewalk when she heard Drake call out from behind her.

“Hold on, I’ll get my car.”

“Like hell,” she said under her breath.

A minute later she saw the university shuttle approaching and she flagged it down. She dropped angrily in a seat near the driver. She was the only rider.