Complete Mia Kazmaroff

by Kiernan-Susan Lewis

  “I didn’t mean it like a threat,” she said. “I just meant it as information, like. Rhonda Kilpatrick’s suffered enough for her big heart, having her young ‘uns with that tramp, Vickie. You stay away from her.”

  Without waiting to see how her words were received, she turned and walked back to the gravesite. Derek stood with his arms crossed, watching Mia.

  “Who the hell was that?” Jack asked.

  “Somebody who hated Victoria,” Mia said, feeling the gravitas of the day like a dead weight around her shoulders. “That’s all.”

  *****

  The child snorted and rolled over in her bed. Mindy stood at Bethany’s bedroom door and held her breath. She only got a scant ninety minutes a day when the girl would concede to a nap and Mindy wanted every second of it. After another moment, it was clear the baby monitor had given a false alarm. Bethany wasn’t awakening early after all. Mindy shut the door and tiptoed back to her office off the dining room.

  It had been a long time since she’d had a project this exciting. Every moment she was away from it, she found herself thinking of how she’d handle the next piece. Every moment she was actually working on it, she was happier than she ever remembered being. She cracked her knuckles and leaned back in front of her double set of video screens. Playing with video editing software wasn’t really her strong suit, but she was at least as good as the average TNT producer.

  She pushed a button to render the piece she’d just finished editing and sat back and smiled as she waited. Who was she kidding? She was brilliant at it but it didn’t matter. None of what she did best mattered. Not to anyone who knew her anyway.

  After hitting the Play button, Mindy crossed her arms and watched the video on screen. It was jumpy and the resolution was muddy but she knew most people didn’t look at things the way she did. Half the time she had to remind her husband to turn the channel to HD to watch their movies. He really didn’t see the difference. It was unfathomable to Mindy, but she’d had too much evidence not to believe it wasn’t true.

  She looked over her shoulder to make sure little Bethany hadn’t decided to turn off the baby monitor—she’d done it before—in order to creep up behind Mindy while she was working. Today was one time Mindy could not allow that to happen.

  She turned her attention back to the video. The woman on the screen arched her naked back and mounted the man. Mindy turned up the volume. And smiled.

  The day her father threw her a bone by asking if she would create a video for the wedding was the day Mindy felt lightness return to her step. She had no doubt the so-called engagement would implode long before the wedding, but just in case it got that far she had the back-up plan to end them all.

  Because when the congregation—not to mention her father—got an eye and earful of this little Citizen Kane, well, the only union that would be happening then would be the one where her father’s shoe leather met the pavement as he left the church at a dead run.

  Mindy watched the two-minute video, the grin never leaving her face. It hadn’t been difficult to find a sex tape just shadowy enough to pass—the production quality of most amateur videos was shit. But to find someone who could pass for Jess this perfectly? It had taken weeks of searching through countless user-content video sites to find it. Then with just a little shadowing, a bit of selective cropping and a lot of audio magic—using Jess’s real voice thanks to Mindy’s most recent visit with her—and even Jess will think it’s her up there on the screen, her legs wrapped around the cute surfer dude, riding him while crying out, “Oh-oh-oh! Take me, daddy!”

  A part of Mindy almost wished things would get as far as the wedding day.

  Oh baby, oh baby.

  *****

  The rest of the week was a rush of client dinners that kept Jack running off his feet—but happy. He noted that Mia was quieter than usual, which was a tad worrisome, but she didn’t seem to be actively hatching any plots so Jack decided not to overthink things. He knew she wasn’t through with the Victoria case and maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. It kept her occupied. They’d gone out two days in a row to meet guys from Victoria’s list and Mia had placed her hands on them. All five had proven to be innocent—in Mia’s mind—and Jack hadn’t gotten punched.

  So win-win for everyone.

  This afternoon, as Jack was putting together his chef’s cart for a formal dinner party for six, Mia sat at the kitchen counter and flipped through a horse magazine. After the third sigh, he stopped packing.

  “Mia, why don’t you call Ned and go riding?”

  “I already did. He has to work.”

  “Okay, well, go yourself, then. Doesn’t he have a horse you can borrow?”

  “I might.” She flipped the magazine shut. “You know it’s going to take us years to get through all the guys that Victoria didn’t meet with.”

  “I’m game if you are.”

  “And you are a sweet man to be game. Thank you. But my point is, there’s one guy who she did meet with.”

  “Jeff Wojinziky?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I mentioned him to the chief yesterday and he said they interviewed Wojinziky and that there was nothing, nothing to connect him forensically to the murder.”

  “You talked to the chief?”

  “Yes, now don’t get pissed, Mia. We were talking about something else entirely, but I know you were concerned that Wojinziky fell through the cracks so I brought him up.”

  “Where was I when you had this conversation?”

  “I don’t remember. He also mentioned he’d talked to your mother and they sorted out their little issue from the night before.”

  “Yeah, my mom told me,” Mia said, drumming her nails on the counter. “She knows that evil bitch Mindy is trying to mess things up between her and the chief and, more importantly, the chief knows it.”

  “You have to feel sorry for her, Mia.”

  “Well, I don’t have to at all. She’s a grown woman. She wasn’t molested or abandoned or unloved or any of that.”

  “We don’t know what causes people to behave the way they do.”

  “Probably a good thing.” She sighed and picked up her magazine again before dropping it in frustration. “It’s just that I know it’s him, Jack. How many times have I said that to you about something I felt sure about?”

  “A million?”

  “That is not true. I have very strong reasons for believing it’s him.”

  “Any of it have to do with the tracking device I noticed on your phone?”

  She frowned. “I meant to tell you about that.”

  “You need to remove it before he finds it.”

  “When I’m finished, I will,” she said.

  “Are you going to be okay tonight?”

  “Of course. Daisy and I are going to watch TV and take a bath. Well, maybe just me in the bath.”

  He came around the counter and drew her into his arms.

  “Don’t be discouraged, Mia,” he said. “There’s a reason why this feels like the long game. You’re looking into the stuff nobody else has the patience for. Great rewards come to those who wait.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a long kiss.

  He groaned and rubbed a hand down her hip. “Be up when I get home?”

  “Count on it.”

  *****

  An hour later, after her bath, a reheating of an especially toothsome penne with butternut squash that Jack had made the day before, and a frustrating fifteen minutes in front of the television set, Mia tossed down the remote and looked at Daisy.

  “I can’t keep doing this,” she said out loud. I can’t go through these men one by one when everyone knows the killer isn’t in that group. Even Maxwell knows, and Jack surely does, although he deserves an award for going through the motions.

  She got up and went to the dining room table with Victoria’s case folder. In the folder were photos of Cook and Jeff that she’d found online, plus C
argill and Turner. Mia spread the photos out, adding a blank one and wrote Derek on it, and tried to see if they formed a picture. She glanced at the wall clock, nine o’clock, then gathered up the photos, Jeff’s on top, and exited the condo.

  This was crazy but it was at least mildly more productive than sitting and watching cable reruns. Somebody might have seen whomever it was who delivered the dolls but she’d never know if she didn’t ask. It was unfortunate that she didn’t have a photo of Derek but the idea that he’d put together naked, bloody dolls of his sisters still wouldn’t gel with her. Neither did it seem likely for Cargill. Or Turner. Sighing, she looked at the pictures of Cook and Jeff and finally put Cook’s picture behind the others.

  It had to be Jeff. The rest of them just didn’t make sense the way he did.

  She started at the condo on her floor but the furthest point down the hall, intending to work her way back to her own unit. If she didn’t have any luck, she’d go floor by floor before giving up.

  Better than cable reruns.

  The first door she knocked on was answered by a young man—gay from the way he looked at her and held himself. He had a drink in one hand and looked at her with a frown.

  “May I help you?” he said.

  “I hope so,” Mia answered cheerfully. “I live in B-10 down the hall and was wondering if I could show you a picture of someone I think was looking for my apartment?” She pulled out Jeff’s picture as she spoke. The man squinted at it and made a face.

  “Never seen him,” he said in a tone that made it seem like he was glad about that. “But welcome to the building.” Then he shut the door.

  The next unit was answered by an overweight woman in her mid-forties.

  “Hi, there,” Mia said, “I live in B-10.”

  “I’ve seen your boyfriend in the parking lot,” the woman said. “I’m Sheila.”

  “Hey, Sheila. I was wondering if you’ve ever seen this man in the building?” Mia showed her the picture of Jeff.

  Sheila shook her head. “Sorry, no. What’s he done?”

  “Just somebody I’m looking for,” Mia said. “Have you lived in the building long?” Sheila was dressed in a bathrobe with her head swaddled in a towel. Mia wondered how she felt so comfortable answering the door at nine at night nearly nude.

  “Almost four years. I knew your brother.”

  Mia dropped the stack of photos on the carpeted floor. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Dave lived here for nearly two years before he was murdered. Of course people would know him.

  “Oh,” Mia said. “He left me the condo in his will.”

  “That’s what I heard. I’m sorry about what happened to him. I really liked him.”

  Mia knew her brother had been a major player so she supposed he might’ve trolled close to home on a slow night. It was hard to tell from Sheila’s tone if she held a grudge or not.

  “Yeah, he was a good guy,” Mia said softly.

  “Hey, but him I saw,” Sheila said, pointing to the floor where Mia was picking up the pictures.

  A twinge of excitement pinched Mia. She held out the picture of Cook, who she knew for a fact had been at the condo recently.

  “This guy?” she asked.

  “No, the other dude. With the mustache.”

  Mia froze and plucked out the photo of Nathan Turner. Her fingers trembled. “Him? You saw him?”

  “Yeah, he was wandering the hall on our floor last week. I’d hardly not remember. Very hot.”

  “Did he…did you notice if he was carrying anything?” Mia said, feeling a burgeoning lightness in her chest. “Like a package of some kind?”

  “Now that you mention it,” Sheila said, “he was carrying something. I remember because it looked like whatever it was, it was leaking.”

  Chapter 14

  The next morning, Jack stood next to Mia in the hallway of Nathan Turner’s office building in Midtown. He hadn’t bothered trying to talk her into giving the information about Turner to Maxwell first. With the way the chief reacted when she even mentioned the Baskerville case, Jack couldn’t blame her. She stood next to him, her body tense as if ready to spring.

  In fact, that was exactly what she was going to do. Of that Jack was sure.

  “He’s going to deny it,” he murmured to her, his gaze on the door Turner had to exit from.

  “I just need to get my hands on him.”

  “How many times have I heard that?”

  Mia tore her eyes from the door for a moment to glance at him. She didn’t smile.

  “Just teasing, Mia. Lighten up.”

  “I’m plenty lightened,” she said, refocusing on the door just as it swung open.

  Turner was a good-looking man. Mia had failed to mention that or maybe she hadn’t seen it. Mia’s observations were almost always in direct opposition to any normal person’s. Turner was wearing an expensive raincoat and carrying a briefcase. When he saw them, he faltered. The shock in his eyes quickly turned into an appraising glance when he saw Jack.

  So that part’s true, anyway.

  “A word, Mr. Turner?” he said as he moved between Turner and Mia. He could feel Mia vibrating in irritation behind him. He just needed to slow her down. Even if this tool had delivered a box of bloody dolls to their address, he could still bring charges against them if they weren’t careful. Mia pushed past Jack and clamped a hand on Turner’s arm.

  “Hey!” Turner said.

  “We’d like to ask you a few questions,” Jack said.

  “Call my office if you want to speak with me.”

  “Why did you bring that box of dolls to my condo?” Mia asked. “Was it a warning?”

  Turner’s face flushed and his eyes darted between Jack and Mia. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “The cops have the dolls now,” Mia said, hands on her hips. Jack let her move between him and Turner but he stayed ready in case things got out of hand—as they so easily could with Mia.

  “They’ll get your DNA off them,” she said, “so you might as well admit it.”

  “Get out of my way or I’ll call the police.” Turner snarled as he turned away.

  “They have your DNA, Nathan,” Mia called after him as he hurried down the hall. “You make a threat against the twins and then one dies? You don’t have to be Columbo to figure that one out!”

  Jack put a hand on Mia’s shoulder as they watched him leave.

  “I assume by the fact that we’re not following him out of the building and into the parking lot that you didn’t get what you wanted?” he asked in a low voice.

  “He didn’t kill anyone,” Mia said, her shoulders sagging under her jacket.

  “Well, good. We can eliminate him and move on. You didn’t like him for this anyway.”

  “But why did he deliver the dolls to me?”

  Jack shrugged. “We’ll either find out…or we won’t. You want me to call the chief or do you want to handle the honors?”

  Mia grimaced. “No, I’ll call him.”

  An hour later, they sat across from each other at the Silver Skillet diner downtown and Jack watched her push mustard greens and corn bread around on her plate.

  “It’s not the end of the world,” he said. “Or even the case for that matter.”

  She nodded but didn’t answer. The chief hadn’t held back in his fury over her approaching Nathan Turner. Jack knew she wasn’t concerned with how mad Maxwell was with her. The case—which had an exciting new piece to it just this morning—was back to cooling off by the second.

  “He said they don’t have Turner’s DNA in the database,” she said, “so they can’t confirm him for the dolls. And, of course, there’s no chance Turner will voluntarily donate a sample.”

  “Not if he’s smart.”

  Mia jammed a straw in her tumbler of sweet tea and sighed. “I just wish I knew why he did it. How is he connected to this?”

  “You mean because you know he didn’t kill Victoria?”

  Mia looked at
him. “He didn’t kill Victoria,” she said. “Or Tracy. Or anyone for that matter. I could tell that when I touched him. But he’s still involved somehow.”

  Jack shrugged. “Maybe he’s just trying to protect his business? Send the message to the one Nosy Nellie who was keeping the whole unpleasant media mess alive by warning her to back off?”

  “Oh, no, you did not just refer to me as Nosy Nellie.”

  But she was smiling. At least there was that. Jack reached across the table and touched her hand.

  “I have another chef job tonight. I hate to leave you.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine.”

  “No more canvassing the neighbors in our building?”

  “You have to admit it was a good idea, Jack.”

  “Can you promise to hold off any further investigations until I can go too?”

  She shrugged and picked up her fork to prod her food without interest. “Sure,” she said, but her eyes didn’t meet his.

  *****

  Later that afternoon, Mia threw a bag of carrots and her riding boots into the back of her car. She knew Jack wanted her to give the case a rest—at least for the day—and she wanted to erase the worried look that was on his face so she arranged to go riding with Ned.

  Who knows? Maybe being out in the pasture would give her a different perspective on things. It wouldn’t be the first time horseback riding had triggered an idea that had been hiding. Plus, it helped to talk to Ned. Not that Jack wasn’t good in that way, but Jack took her moods personally—always wanting to fix things—whereas Ned shrugged them off. Mia found, for the most part, that was more helpful when it came to solving problems.

  She hopped on I-85, relieved to see the traffic moving quickly, and plugged her smartphone into her car’s Bluetooth system. Listening to music was another thing that often prompted a revelation. Music let her mind go into free fall, where ideas tended to bubble to the surface that she didn’t even know were in her brain.

  The music faded to announce an incoming call and Mia hit Accept.

  “Hey, Ned,” she said. “You at the barn yet?”