He seemed upset. “She doesn’t know yet?”
Cortnie put her hand on his shoulder. “She was notified last night.”
He looked puzzled. “And she didn’t call me?”
“Why would she call you?”
He seemed to be somewhere else at that moment. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Why would she have called you last night?”
“She works today,” he said, vacantly.
We followed him into the bank, then stopped and waited as he relocked the door behind us.
“I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t catch your names.” He stuck his hand out to Cortnie.
“Detective Criss and this is Detective Parks.” Cortnie waved her hand toward me.
I didn’t accept his hand. “Sorry, germs,” I lied.
Cortnie looked at me like I’d lost my mind. So, I didn’t want to touch the man. He gave me the creeps. I’d peg what it was by the time we left, but I didn’t have it down yet.
“Do you mind if we have a look at her desk?”
“Normally, I’d think you’d need a warrant for something like that, but as long as nothing is removed, I don’t care.” He led us to the loan department of the bank, which was on the far side.
As we walked, I looked to my right, to the teller windows, and the open vault door. Up in the corners were video cameras. I wondered if they ran all the time, or just when there was a robbery. Back in the day, I knew they were only set to go off when the bait money was pulled or the silent alarm was triggered. Nowadays, I hoped they ran during business hours regardless. Bank robbers seemed to be a bit smarter these days.
“What can you tell us about Lena?” Cortnie walked alongside Richard.
“We worked in different departments, and rarely crossed paths during work hours, but on the occasion that we bowled together on the banking league, she was a lot of fun. That girl could knock back a few drinks, that’s for sure.”
I wished I could see Cortnie’s face. Bet this was news to her.
“Really, she bowled?”
“She wasn’t very good, but we always had a good time.” Richard laughed at the memory.
“Aren’t you married?” Cortnie actually touched his left hand.
“What’s that got to do with anything?” He snatched his hand away.
“I’m just wondering what your wife thought of you going out bowling and drinking after hours with your co-workers.” It was innocent enough, and yet he was defensive.
Richard’s step stuttered. “I’m the one bringing home the money, so if I want to join the bowling league, or go out drinking with my co-workers, I’ll damn well do it. When she’s the breadwinner, she can do as she pleases.”
Cortnie choked back a laugh.
“What?” He snapped.
“Nothing. It’s just that you are of Hispanic heritage, and by that very nature, you are known to be a bit jealous.”
Richard came to a full stop. “That sounds racist to me. And besides, what does this have to do with Lena’s death?”
“First, it’s not racist, it’s a stereotype, and there are stereotypes for a reason. I know first hand because I’ve dated a few Mexican men in my lifetime. And second of all, it has nothing to do with Lena’s death, unless you were screwing around with her on the side, and you or your wife killed her.”
I could see Richard’s brown cheeks turn reddish-brown. “I don’t cheat on my wife.”
Cortnie raised her hands. “Then we’re cool.” She kept walking. “Now, which desk is Lena’s?”
On the far side of the teller line, several desks made up the loan department. Richard led us to the second desk on the right side of the aisle.
“This is where Lena sat.” He pulled out her chair. “So can you tell me anything about what happened to her?”
For a bank with oodles of money, the desks looked like cheap government issue steel desks, but the chairs looked ergonomically correct. Lena’s desk had a computer monitor, a calculator, a blotter, and a telephone. There were no personal items, no pictures, but there were business cards, so I took one.
“I’m sorry, but we can’t give out any details at the moment. But if you’d like to call the detective in charge, Nick Christianson, he may be able to help with any questions you might have.” Cortnie moved past Richard.
“If you aren’t the detectives on Lena’s case, then who are you?” Richard’s query was the most inquisitive yet.
“We’re assisting Detective Christianson.” I pushed the button to turn on Lena’s computer.
“Sir, you can’t do that. It’s private banking business.” He reached past me and turned the computer off.
I stood quietly, staring at Richard. He returned my stare for a second or two, then I saw the sweat beading up on his forehead, or maybe it was grease dripping from his hair.
“What is that pomade you use? I’ve been looking for something new.”
Flattered, he said, “I’m old school, it’s Brylcreem.”
I raised my brows. “Wow, I’d never have guessed.”
Cortnie sat at Lena’s desk and pulled drawers. The long, thin middle drawer was the only one that wasn’t locked. She looked at me before pulling it all the way out.
From behind us, I heard the teller. “Richard, I need your help.”
Annoyed, he snapped, “Can’t it wait?”
“Okay, but I have three cars behind this one.” She walked back to the window.
He huffed, completely put out. “I’ll be right back. Please don’t open anything while I’m away.”
Cortnie looked at me. “It’s already open.”
I leaned in close. The drawer was neat, filled with the usual paperclips, rubber bands, pens, and miscellaneous office supplies. She pulled the drawer a little further. It stuck, and then gave way, and a box came into view.
It was long and thin, like the type a bracelet from a nice jeweler would come in. Cortnie opened the box. There was no bracelet, but there was a note.
It read:
Soon, baby, it will be just you and me. Every day I see you and I can’t wait for us to be alone. I love you and I want to be with you all the time. You and me. I want to make love to you morning, noon and night. And not just in the car, or sneaking around. I want you in my bed. I love you forever. This is my promise to you. It’s almost over.
Richard came back and Cortnie tucked the box inside her jacket.
“It doesn’t seem like she kept anything personal at work, so this won’t be much help.” Cortnie stood.
“You don’t have any other questions?” He seemed disappointed.
“Not now, but thank you for letting us get a look at her workspace. It’s rather sterile.”
“Sterile?”
“Nothing personal at all. No pictures and such,” I said.
Richard looked around at the other desks, cluttered with family photos and figurines. “I never noticed that before.”
“Thanks again.” Cortnie led the way back toward the door. She kept looking over her shoulder at me, as I hadn’t moved.
I wanted to get a sense of the space. It was a big bank. I’m not a touchy feely guy, but there was a bad vibe here, and it wasn’t just Richard. I didn’t like this bank. I stood a moment longer, even though I wanted to sprint to the door. With exaggerated force, I strolled casually alongside Richard and Cortnie.
“If there is anything else I can do, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”
Richard walked us out of the bank and locked the door behind us.
“Do you have a business card?” I asked, just for the hell of it, to make him feel special.
He reached in his pocket.
“If we need anything else, you’ll either hear from us or Detective Christianson.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket and it triggered an idea. I pulled out my phone to silence the alarm, before I slid the lock off and dialed.
“What about Lena’s cell phone?”
“What about it?”
Cortnie
kept walking, even though I’d stopped. I had the phone to my ear.
101
Mimi
“Charles, this had better be an emergency; this really isn’t a good time.” Nick’s voice was tight.
I’d had enough. My shoes were sensible enough, and we were only a few miles from the office. I’d walk back. Nick could finish this on his own. I was done. Finished. Toast. Between him and the agency, I was burned out. I needed my mom. Once I got a block or so away, I’d give her a call. She always knew what to say to make me feel better. Maybe we’d go out for ice cream. Yes, we’d sit at the bar at the ice cream shop and have chocolate sodas, the kind where they add soda water, mix it with chocolate syrup, then add chocolate ice cream, and top it off with a scoop of chocolate on the rim of the soda glass. The real whipped cream, mixed nuts and a cherry were the best. I was eight years old again, sitting with my mom, talking about boys and school, and how baton twirling practice went.
I was yanked to a halt, and back to reality when Nick grabbed my wrist. He was still talking on the phone, but he had a pretty good grip on me.
“I have her number, but we don’t have her phone. It wasn’t on her when we found her body.” He paused. “Charles, can this wait?”
“Let me go.” I yanked hard, to no avail.
“I have to go. Meet me at the office in fifteen minutes.” He put his phone in his pocket.
I thought he’d let go of my wrist, and I’d have the chance to make a run for it, but instead he grabbed my other wrist and stood in front of me, moving his hands from my wrists to my hands, lacing his fingers in mine. I did my best to make it difficult, but in the end, he won. There we were, face to face, holding hands.
“I’m too tired to do this anymore.” I said, looking between us at our feet, not daring to look him in the eyes.
He let go of one of my hands and touched my chin, gently pushing it up, so I had to look at him. “I know ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t enough. I’ve been selfish, childish, stupid…”
“Go on.”
He smiled.
“Seriously, go on.” I wasn’t smiling.
“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you.”
“Not even football?” I knew I was pushing it.
“Not even football,” he said without hesitation. “When I realized you were still married, I was physically sick. My stomach churned at the thought, and it seemed to be the only thought I had. Then when we tried to start seeing each other, I didn’t know what to say or do, and things were so damned uncomfortable.”
My stomach had stopped churning for the first time in months. I’d made up my mind. No more games. No more. I was done. “Why do you think it was uncomfortable? I’ll tell you why. Because it was like back in college, like we didn’t know each other all over again. And I’ll be honest, I’ve hated it. These last few months, I hated everyday. Knowing I’d see you at the station, when I went in with Cortnie. Knowing that we’d either be cordial, or we’d ignore each other. It makes me sick.”
“I don’t want you to feel that way. But if you don’t want to get back together, I can’t quit my job, Mimi. This is all I know. This and football. I don’t see anyone hiring me as a coach any time soon.”
He brushed my hair behind my ear, and I felt the familiar longing of wanting his skin on my skin, his lips on my lips (or anywhere on me for that matter). I wasn’t over him by a long shot. I hated being so messed up. Here he was standing in front of me, saying he was sorry, asking me to forgive him, and wanting to start over. Why was I hesitating?
“How long before you need to meet Charles?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“No, really, I’m not.”
“Fifteen minutes. Give or take. He can wait.”
I led him back to the car. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“My house.”
He looked at me, eyebrows raised.
“Just for a minute.”
Not wanting to give anything away in the car, I kept quiet. He didn’t ask any questions, and I didn’t offer anything. All I knew was that, in a few minutes, I’d know if this was the beginning or the end.
* * *
When we arrived at the house, I had my key in one hand and Nick’s hand in the other. I didn’t even bother to lock the door behind me. For all I knew Nick hadn’t even closed the door. I pretended there weren’t feathers all over the living room floor.
I did hear Nick say, “Bad, Lola.” But it didn’t slow him down.
I kicked off my shoes, let go of his hand, and walked out of my clothes on the way to the bedroom. I turned to see he’d followed my lead. And by the time we hit the bed, we were both naked as the day we were born.
The way I saw it, after being apart all these months, if we still had the desire we’d had back then, it was meant to be. Because I needed to get laid, and if he hadn’t been dating anyone, he needed it, too. And who better to do it with? Right?
Make-up sex is supposed to be the best sex ever, and in this case… it wasn’t so great. I don’t know what I was thinking. We barely got started before it was over. In the rush of it all, we stumbled over each other, and did our best impressions of The Three Stooges. I included “Little Nick” in this scenario. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am, and we were lying on our backs, sucking wind.
“Well, that didn’t go like I’d planned,” I said between gasps.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you just yelling at me about ten minutes ago?”
I ran my fingers through my messed up hair. “Yes, and I’m glad I got it all off my chest, or it would have been hanging over our relationship forever.”
Nick rolled over and put his arm over my belly. “Relationship?”
I leaned into him. “Truth?”
“Okay.”
“I’d briefly thought about selling my half of the business to Charles and leaving town. I couldn’t do it anymore. Even if you wanted to try again, I didn’t think I could do it. But then this.” I waved my arm across our naked bodies.
“This?” He stared down at his flaccid penis. “As in the thirty second lay?”
I laughed. “Yes. Sort of. I mean, I don’t want to do this with anyone else.” I sat up on one elbow. “At dinner with Bruno, I kept thinking he was a nice enough guy, and he had a rocking hot body. Being a farmer is hard physical work. But I couldn’t imagine getting naked with him. Then I see you dealing with the scumbag gangbanger and I want to jump your bones right there. I hate myself for feeling that way.”
Nick leaned down and kissed me on the lips. “I love that you feel that way.”
I pushed him off. “I shouldn’t have done this. But it did prove my point.”
Nick sat up, and then stood from the bed in all his naked glory. “What exactly was your point?”
I stood too, not even remotely shy about being naked in front of him. “This feels good. It was quicker than a quickie. We both got a little too excited. I didn’t cum, you came too soon, and it was still all good. This is how it’s supposed to feel.”
“No, girlie, this is not how it’s supposed to feel. I’m supposed to seduce you, you are supposed to scream bloody murder as you have the orgasm of your life, then I’m supposed to collapse on your exhausted body as I explode inside you. That’s how it’s supposed to feel.”
“What I meant was, this was okay. With anyone else, we’d be avoiding each other right now, completely embarrassed. And us? We’re okay. I think we’ll be okay.”
I walked up to him, my body touching his, and I kissed him hard on the lips.
“Mimi, even if we had time, I’m sorry,” he looked down, “I’m not ready for another round yet.”
I looked down, too. “No shit.” Then I picked a feather out of his hair.
I leaned over and picked my bra up off the floor. “What did Charles want?”
I walked away, picking up the rest of my clothes and putting them back on.
“Lena’s cell phone.”
This was how it should be. Nick and I humping like rabbits, getting dressed and talking business, being friends. I thought back to the meltdown I’d had only minutes before and wondered how people who were really bipolar handled life, because I was feeling a bit unstable at the moment, even though all was right with the world. Well, other than the little matter with Lena.
“We don’t have it.” Nick sat on the edge of the bed and was pulling on his pants. “Obviously we have the number, and we need to get the phone records from her service provider, but we haven’t been able to track the phone.”
“No GPS? Did she have a really old phone?” I thought everyone had updated to smart phones these days.
“That’s one of our stops today, but Charles is chomping at the bit, so maybe I’ll give the task to him while we go talk to the mayor’s husband.”
I rolled my eyes.
Reginald Wick had pulled the “Don’t you know who I am?” bullshit on us when he’d been arrested, and I didn’t look forward to talking to him again.
“First, let’s pacify Charles.”
Even though the drive to the police station was quiet, the tension was gone. Nick reached across the seat and held my hand. When he touched me, I knew it was right. When I’d been screaming at him earlier, I had no idea how things would end, but I had been prepared to step away from my current life and start over. That’s what I’d have had to do if it was really over. And over or not, I had to tell Nick how I really felt. I needed to get it out, tell him what I’d been feeling for years, and what I’d been harboring for the last several months. I was ready for peace in my life. Peace, love and happiness. Yes, I wanted to be a hippy. I smiled.
“What?” Nick asked.
I looked at him. “Nothing.”
“You’re smiling.”
“Yep.” And I kept smiling. It felt good.
Charles paced the length of the van as we drove into the parking lot. Nick parked several spaces away, and by the time he opened his door, Charles was there to meet him.
“This is going way too slow. I think we are looking at the wrong people. Following the wrong leads.”
Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Box Set Page 75