The Babbling Brook Naked Poker Club - Book One (17 page)

Myrtle handed him the book, and he paged
through it.

Smiling, he handed it to me. “I see we both
made contributions.”

It occurred to me that he would have known
the whole project was bogus since Eddie is his nephew. So, what
story did they tell him?

“We’re hoping this will raise Sara’s
spirits,” I said, attempting to find out.

He gave me a blank look. “Sara? Who’s
Sara?”

I switched tactics. “Just a child Myrtle
knows who has cancer.”

“Ah,” he said. “Josephine did a nice job
with this.” He pointed at the book and then stood, giving those
nearby what I’ve heard Josephine call his pope smile-and-wave,
although he did at least walk up to Myrtle to shake her hand before
he left.

It’s as much as he ever does when we have a
party. At our birthday parties, he greets the people who have
birthdays that month, but I’ve never seen him share a piece of cake
or conversation with anyone.

It occurred to me it could have been quite
interesting if he’d arrived a few minutes earlier to this party,
when Eddie was still shifting from foot to foot at the front of the
room and Myrtle was prattling on about Souter’s nonexistent
grandniece.

~ ~ ~

Shortly after I returned to my office from the party, Candace stuck
her head in.

“We have a potential new resident taking a
look at an apartment, and the family has questions about our social
programs. I thought since there’s nothing on your schedule at the
moment, you could speak to them? They’re waiting for you in 145
LarkTulip.”

“Of course. I’m happy to do that,” I said,
although strictly speaking, the care and feeding of potential
residents was one of the few things that seemed to be in Candace’s
purview.

“As soon as possible would be good,” Candace
said, waving her fingers before withdrawing both them and her head
from my doorway.

My plan had been to leave work early today
since I’d had a couple of late nights this week. Sighing, because
meetings with potential new residents could sometimes drag on, I
made my way to the Meadowlark-Tulip wing. When I knocked on the
door of 145, it swung open abruptly and someone grabbed me by the
arm and pulled me inside. The door slammed shut behind me.

“I want to know whose idea that was,” Eddie
said, his voice shaking with fury.

“What idea?” I tried to free my arm, but
that made him tighten his grip.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. A
damn fund for kids with cancer and a fricking book?”

Saliva speckled my face. My heart was
racing, and my mind was a black whirl of terror. Abruptly, he let
go of my arm and shoved me. I stumbled back against the wall,
banging my head hard enough to see stars.

“I’m waiting, bitch.”

He stood over me, and I resisted the impulse
to curl into a protective ball, knowing it never works. Not with
someone as angry as Eddie. Besides, didn’t I spend the last ten
years becoming proficient in tae kwon do to prepare for just such
an eventuality as this? Although, every time I went to a practice
session, I hoped I’d never have to use it that way.

Eddie began to pace, muttering curses.
Slowly, I pushed myself into a standing position. He whirled, and
his arm shot out. Without conscious thought, I blocked the blow and
smashed the heel of my hand into his face. He backed away, holding
his hand up to his nose, which was spurting blood.

Then with a roar, he launched himself at me.
I sidestepped, twisting and aiming a side kick at his groin. It
connected with a satisfying thunk, and he fell to his knees,
grabbing for me. I skipped away, preparing for his next blow.

It didn’t come. He remained hunched over,
moaning.

I reached for a nearby emergency cord and
tugged it. Then I circled Eddie, making my way to the front door,
staying out of reach. I opened the door and then stood in the
doorway, ready to run if he made any sudden moves.

When the aide arrived, I commandeered her
phone and called Mac.

While I talked to Mac, the aide rushed to
Eddie’s side, no doubt thinking he was having some sort of
seizure.

He pushed her away, lumbered to his feet,
and stood glaring at me. “Good thing you called the police, bitch.
I’m going to see you’re charged with assault. You can kiss my ass
and your job good-bye.”

I was already shaking, and Eddie’s words
made my tremors worse. He was, after all, the one with blood on his
face, and bruises, albeit in places not on display. While I had
. . . I glanced at my arm to find it looked fine except
for a couple of indentations. The back of my head throbbed, but it
wasn’t bleeding. And all the aide saw when she arrived on the scene
was Eddie rolling on the floor, moaning. She didn’t see him pulling
me into the apartment and attacking me.

It was, for the second time in my life, the
perfect
he says, she says
situation. The symmetry of that
staggered me.

All I could hope was that this time the
police would believe me and not the man.

Mac

The investigation into the items reported missing from Brookside
apartments hadn’t turned up much. The department’s IT guy did find
a recent sale of an inverted Jenny, but it was handled by a lawyer
in Indianapolis. Although the lawyer wouldn’t say who had offered
the stamp for sale, he assured Dillingham it was a client of long
standing whose family had owned the stamp for years.

As for the baseball card, there were a lot
of possibilities to investigate. The necklace was a better bet,
since it was unique. But so far, there was no sign of it on any of
the Internet auction sites or in local pawnshops.

So dead ends all around.

~ ~ ~

When Devi called, I was checking out surveillance videos, trying to
identify a suspect in a smash-and-grab at a local shopping center.
Montgomery is generally free from this type of problem, and we’re
aggressive in addressing it when it does happen.

But Devi’s assault report took immediate
precedence. When I arrived at Brookside, I ordered the receptionist
to take me to apartment 145 in the LarkTulip wing, the first I knew
the wings had names.

When my guide and I turned the final corner,
I saw Devi slumped against the wall opposite an open door, her
breath coming in gasps as if she’d just run a marathon. I
suppressed the nearly overwhelming urge to go to her and take her
in my arms.

A woman I didn’t know was standing in the
open doorway. She stepped aside and Eddie Colter lurched into view.
He had blood on his face, and one eye was beginning to swell.

“Good you’re here. Officer, arrest this
woman.” He pointed at Devi. “She assaulted me.”

I nodded at Devi, then turned to Eddie and
the other woman, pulling out my notebook. I gestured for the woman
to step into the hall and got her name. When I asked what happened,
she glanced at Devi and Eddie with a troubled look.

“All I know is I responded to an emergency
alert from this apartment she said she’d sent.” She pointed her
chin toward Devi. “When I got here, I found Eddie on the floor, in
obvious distress. He said she attacked him.” Again the chin pointed
toward Devi.

I looked at Eddie, who was holding a
blood-soaked handful of tissues to his nose. “Why don’t you get
that nose looked at, Mr. Colter, while I get Ms. Subramanian’s
statement.” I kept my tone formal, but I hoped Devi could tell I
was doing it only for effect. I turned to her. “Ma’am, if you’d
come with me?”

She stepped toward me, and I gestured for
her to walk ahead of me to her office. We did that without
speaking. When we got there, we took the two visitors’ chairs
partly facing each other, and I pulled out my recorder.

I wanted to reassure her, but first I needed
to do my job. Although I had few doubts that whatever she’d done to
Eddie was in self-defense, I’m a cop, and I have to give everyone,
including the Eddie Colters of the world, the benefit of the
doubt.

With my recorder on, I noted the date, time,
location, and our names. Then I asked her to tell me what happened.
I suspect my blood pressure shot up when she described Eddie
pulling her into the empty apartment and shoving her against the
wall.

I asked her to show me her arm and found it
was encircled with a developing bruise that looked all too
familiar. It was the kind of injury we often see on a domestic
violence call. I took a photograph as documentation. Then she
turned her head and pointed at the spot that hurt. Although I
couldn’t see any obvious injury, I didn’t doubt her version of
events.

When she told me what she’d done to protect
herself, I wanted to cheer. But close on the heels of that feeling
was one of rage, something I would have to get under control before
I talked to Colter.

I turned off the recorder. “I have to
interview Colter now,” I told her.

“I know.”

“Why don’t you go and be with Josephine
while I do that?”

“Okay.”

Her tone was listless, and she sat hugging
herself, rocking slightly and not looking at me. I’d seen that
before too. She was coming down off an adrenaline high and
beginning to crash.

Ditching my cop persona, I reached for one
of her hands and held it firmly for a moment before letting go.

“It’s going to be all right, Devi.”

“You don’t know that,” she said. “No one
else was there. It’s my word against his.”

“That’s all I need,” I said. “I still have
those receipts, you know. I think I can assure you, Colter won’t be
pressing charges. In fact, if you want to charge him, I’d be happy
to file the report.”

She shook her head. “Do you know what today
was? It was the party where Eddie was the guest of honor. Over half
the people living at Brookside donated money to help the daughter
with cancer they believe he has. If he claims I was the aggressor
and got nasty and hit and kicked him when he rejected me, most of
those people, who are women, by the way, will believe him.”

“Because he’s hot, you mean? I think you
cooled him off just a bit.”

Devi didn’t smile, but she looked better
than when we first sat down.

“Come on. You go see Josephine, and I’ll
talk to Colter.”

~ ~ ~

Devi pointed me toward the nurses’ room, where I found Colter lying
on an exam table with his nose packed with gauze, holding an ice
pack to one eye but needing a second ice pack for the other eye. He
was such a sorry sight, it cooled my desire to add to his
injuries.

I asked the nurse to give us privacy, and I
sat in the chair she vacated. I was tempted to say something about
Colter needing to pick on someone his own size, but that would be
as immature as microwaving my sister’s doll had been. Still, the
temptation was there.

I turned on the recorder and stated the
time, date, location, and our names. “Okay, Mr. Colter, why don’t
you go ahead and tell me what happened.”

“That Devi bitch is psycho. I hope you’ve
locked her up. She’s scary, man.”

“You’re claiming she attacked you?”

“She sure did.”

“Do you know why?”

“She hit on me, but she’s not my type. When
I tried to tell her that, she went bonkers.”

“You’re saying she attacked you because you
resisted her unwanted advances.”

“Yeah, man. That’s what I’m saying.”

“How did you happen to encounter her?”

“Encounter her? She works here. It’s hard
not to encounter her. What’s hard is avoiding her.”

“Can you tell me why you were in the
LarkTulip wing this afternoon?”

“I was . . .” He groaned. “Man, my
fricking balls ache. She kicked me, you know.”

It was a good thing Colter’s gaze was aimed
at the ceiling. I suppressed a grin and waited for him to answer
the question.

“I, ah, was escorting Delores Hamilton back
to her apartment.”

“Which apartment does Delores live in?”

“One forty-seven.”

“But the altercation with Ms. Subramanian
occurred in 145, did it not?”

“Yes. I’d just said good-bye to Delores and
closed her door when the door to 145 popped open, and Devi stuck
her head out and asked to speak to me. I stepped inside and she
closed the door, then she threw herself at me.”

As the story progressed, Colter had picked
up speed. He obviously thought he was on a roll.

“Who lives in 145?”

“It’s vacant.”

“How did Devi get into the apartment?”

“I expect she used one of the master
keycards. We have to be able to access people’s apartments in case
of emergency, and Devi knows where the masters are kept.”

“And you do as well?”

“Of course.” He shifted the ice pack to the
other eye and groaned.

“I understand there was a party in your
honor this afternoon.”

“Yeah. That stupid cow Myrtle got it in her
head to raise money for kids with cancer.”

“I heard that the main recipient is your
daughter?”

“Isn’t that rich?” He snorted, then winced.
“I only told the old bat I had a daughter with cancer to get her
off my ass.”

“So you don’t have a daughter?”

“Not one I know about.”

“I’m glad we got that cleared up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Since you don’t have a daughter, I expect
that means the people you took money from during your shopping
forays might be tempted to press charges of theft.”

Colter popped up. It was clearly a mistake.
His face contorted with agony, and he sat panting for a time before
he could speak.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Detective McElroy. We’ve met before. When I
came to investigate the items missing from residents’ apartments.
And since then, you know what? I figured out what those grocery
receipts and affidavits that someone sent us anonymously are about.
You’ve been stealing from the people you shop for. That also makes
you my chief suspect for the larger thefts.”