by Libby Klein
I was going to do a discreet lap to kill some time waiting for Prudence to leave the bar when I overheard the name Simmons. I stopped at the far back table in the corner, where two older men were drinking something brown out of highball glasses. I stood against the wall with my back to them, like I was in line for the bathroom.
“That’s why there’s a chain of custody. To keep rats like Simmons honest.”
“Pink little weasel.”
“I don’t think he’s ever made an arrest. Fischer keeps him on traffic duty so he doesn’t embarrass the department.”
The bathroom door swung open and a woman ran into me. “There’s no line. Go on in.”
“Oh, thanks.” Now that I was in the bathroom, I actually had to pee. I was taking care of business when I heard the door open, then footsteps. Then someone looked under my stall door. “Joanne? For all that is holy!”
“There’s a problem. We gotta go.”
I flushed and washed my hands. “What’s the problem?”
“First of all, Sawyer just walked in.”
I dropped my mouth and stared at Joanne.
“I know. It’s hard for you when you don’t know something.”
“Who is she with?”
Joanne held up a palm. “None of my business.”
“What’s the other problem?”
“The forensics are in. The bullets that killed the kid are a match for the gun in the dumpster. Prudence Crabtree was here to gloat. Amber was just arrested for the murder of Temarius Jackson.”
CHAPTER 52
“I feel like I’m letting her down.” I climbed into Joanne Junk’s tidy green pickup truck on the edge of the lot. “I know she’s innocent, but I don’t know how to prove it. I don’t know who’s framing her. There are too many possibilities.”
Joanne cranked the engine and put the truck in reverse.
“Kieran Dunne is clearly gunning for her, but he’s had the least amount of opportunity. He would have had to drive down from Trenton several times to set things in motion. And why would he keep his counterfeit beauty cream operation in a warehouse near Wildwood Crest? My God, what is that amazing smell?”
Joanne answered me with less enthusiasm than I have for meeting Georgina at a seven a.m. networking breakfast. “Air freshener.”
“It smells like strawberry shortcake.” I inhaled deeply. I wanted to have dreams about this smell later. “Kieran sounds like the man Shayla Rose said she was on a date with, but I don’t know if he was acting alone. It’s so frustrating because the cops who respect Amber aren’t standing up for her, and the cops who don’t like her are willing to see her knocked down a few pegs whether she’s guilty or not. I think maybe Prudence Crabtree and Connor Simmons are Kieran’s accomplices.” I looked at Joanne to see if she had any input.
She shook her head. “Do you always talk this much?”
“If I’m trying to work out a problem I do. Plus, I kinda think there might have been sugar in that iced tea, and I haven’t had that much sugar in a long time.”
“I just saw you eat a scone with half a jar of strawberry preserves on it.”
“Well, yeah. But that was all.”
“No wonder Sawyer wanted to go out without you.”
“Now you’re just being mean. Although I don’t know why I’d expect anything less.”
She gave me no answer.
“So, you have nothing? No thoughts on who could be framing Amber?”
After a minute Joanne said, “You need to see if those fake products are on the market. Then trace who the seller is.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll check Amazon and eBay to see if anyone is selling Shayla Rose. Immortality doesn’t come out until later this fall, and that’s if Shayla can get it to stop turning people blue and get it approved by the FDA. So anyone selling it now is selling counterfeit goods.”
Joanne pulled to a stop in front of my house. I said thank you and got out. I heard her door shut behind me and turned around to see her walking up the sidewalk. “What are you doing?”
“I’m coming inside to check for counterfeit face cream on the Internet.”
“Are you actually helping me?”
“No, moron. I’m helping Amber. You need a different kind of help that I can’t give.”
I was willing to let that slide because I’d lost my regular sidekick earlier in a cop bar and I was hoping Joanne would make me those petits fours again.
Joanne took the guest laptop and I went upstairs to get mine.
Figaro and Portia were curled up on top of my bed. Figaro scooted closer to Portia. Portia got up, spun around, and lay back down farther away from him. Figaro’s eyes squinted and he lay his head on his paws.
By the time I’d returned to the kitchen Aunt Ginny had joined Joanne at the kitchen table and was complaining about running out of her green gummies from the CBD booth. “They don’t even have a website, and I just learned how to find websites.”
“I don’t want you taking those anyway, Aunt Ginny. Even if you do drive better when you’re on them.”
Aunt Ginny rested her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. “It’s just as well. I somehow gained seven pounds this week. Maybe it was the sugar.”
Or the mountain of snacks you went through with the munchies. I patted Aunt Ginny on the back. “Maybe it was.”
I joined them at the table and pulled out my cell phone to dial Connie, one of my high-school girlfriends who used to be a Realtor.
“Hello?”
“Oh good, you’re still up.”
“Are you kidding me? Emmilee has a book report due in the morning that she just told me about TWO HOURS AGO!” Those last three words were yelled away from the mouthpiece for Emmilee’s benefit. “So, yeah. I’ll be up for a while. What do yooze need?”
“Can you still get into the Multiple Listings database?”
“Yeah.”
“If I send you an address, can you find out who owns it?”
“I can do my best. What is it?”
“I don’t know. I’m going to have to use Google Earth to find it again.”
“Alright. Send it over when you’re ready. GET IN THAT ROOM AND FINISH THAT BOOK!”
I clicked off and Googled the names I remembered seeing on buildings nearby. Then I plugged them into Google Earth and changed to street view.
Figaro trotted into the kitchen, followed by Portia. He jumped on the table and proceeded to parade back and forth across my keyboard. It may have looked affectionate, but he was shaking me down for a snack. I picked him up around his middle and placed him on the floor. “Not now, Fig.”
Joanne stopped typing. “I think I found something.”
“What is it?”
Joanne read the description. “ ‘Shayla Rose new Immortality antiaging concentrate. With bioluminescent jellyfish toxins to iron out wrinkles better than BOTOX. Your skin will glow from the inside out. New miracle breakthrough, as seen in ELLE magazine. ’ ”
Aunt Ginny made a face. “Was it featured in a magazine? I thought it wasn’t for sale yet.”
Joanne spun the laptop around for me to see the screen. “That reads like it was copied right from her brochure, except for the ELLE magazine bit. And that photo is the same one from her website.”
Figaro jumped on the table between the laptops and let out a demanding meow. I scooped him up and gently placed him on the floor again.
“Who does it say the seller is?”
Joanne spun it back around and squinted at the monitor. “Beauty Supply Warehouse.”
Aunt Ginny tapped the top of the monitor. “What else do they sell from Shayla Rose?”
It took Joanne a minute of searching before she answered. “Nothing else on eBay or Amazon.”
Aunt Ginny shook her head. “See. That ain’t right. That booth had half-a-dozen products displayed. I almost bought the rose-scented eye cream, but I already got some of that Phoenix stuff.”
I drummed my fingers on the table. “
Can you get any more information about the seller?” I heard a thunk from over by the toaster. Figaro was sitting pretty on the counter and a box of crackers was on the floor. I sighed. He was getting really naughty. I think he’s showing off for Portia.
Joanne shook her head. “There isn’t much about the seller, but in the last month they have a few five-star reviews and one one-star.”
“What does the one-star review say?”
Joanne checked. “ ‘This stuff smells awful. I have the Shayla Rose facial scrub and it smells like roses. This new antiaging concentrate smells like diaper rash cream. And it made my face breakout.’ ”
Another thunk sounded from across the room. Figaro had one paw aloft and his eyes on me. My spice jar of cinnamon lay on the floor. I walked over and scooped him off the counter. “Quit acting up.”
Aunt Ginny asked Joanne, “What do the good reviews say?”
Joanne blinked and squinted at the screen again. “Regular stuff. Fast shipping, great product. They could be fake reviews.”
I narrowed down the address of the warehouse to two possibilities and texted them to Connie. There was another thunk from behind my head. I jumped up and spun around. “Figaro!”
Two bright-green eyes stared back, and a dainty white paw gently placed itself back on the counter. The can of cat treats rolled slowly across the kitchen floor. I think Portia may have smiled.
Aunt Ginny belly laughed. “I see Figaro has taught her a new trick. Just wait until she tries that at home.”
Joanne smiled. “I’d give them each a treat just for being smarter than you.”
I shook out two small piles of treats on the floor. I told Fig, “She goes home in the morning and you’ll still live with me. So choose your allies wisely.”
Fig flopped over and hit the floor with a thud. Portia edged over and finished the rest of his treats.
Joanne looked up from the laptop. “I don’t guess you got any evidence of this counterfeit face cream scam while you were at the warehouse, did you?”
“We didn’t have a chance before they threw in some kind of light grenade and we were on the floor.”
Aunt Ginny tsked. “That’s too bad, honey. If you could prove who is behind the counterfeit beauty scheme, you’d have Amber’s dirty cop right where you want them.”
It was risky, but Aunt Ginny was right. “It could be all of them.”
Joanne grabbed her keys. “Alright, then. Come on.”
“Come on where?”
“We’re going to the warehouse.”
“What if it’s been cleaned out by now? Amber and I set off some silent alarm.”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
Aunt Ginny handed me my cell phone. “Are you wearing good underwear this time?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll come bail you out in a few hours.”
* * *
I led Joanne to Warehouse Row by memory. I didn’t know the street names, but I knew Keen Canning was a landmark.
The chain-link gate was still open; either we were very lucky or about to walk into a trap. We turned into the parking lot and I told Joanne to drive around to the side of the building.
“The last time it took about ten minutes for the police to arrive after we tripped the silent alarm. I can be in and out in five. You stay in the truck and be ready to go. There’s no reason for us both to get arrested.”
I grabbed my flashlight and got out, approached the door, and punched 1-9-7-6 into the keypad. Hot breath was on the back of my neck and I flinched to smack it away.
“Hey, quit it!”
I turned my head and found Joanne right behind me. “I told you to wait in the truck.”
“Amber will never forgive me if you go in there and get shot and I didn’t back you up, or at least try to save you.”
“Wow. I was expecting you to be snarky.”
“If I see a gun or an angry dog, you’re on your own.”
There it is.
I turned the handle and pushed the door open.
Joanne felt around for a switch. She flicked something, and the room was flooded with industrial-strength lights.
“Dude! Why don’t you just call the cops and tell them we’re here?” My eyes took a moment to adjust, but they went right to where the folding tables had been. The stacks of products we had seen two nights ago were gone. The tables were empty. “We’re too late.”
“I was wondering when you’d stop by.”
My breath bottomed out. Connor Simmons was sitting on a metal folding chair ten feet away with a gun resting on his knee.
“Now, hands behind your back. You’re under arrest.”
CHAPTER 53
I put my wrists together and tried to memorize every inch of the warehouse while Officer Pink Weasel cuffed me. Against the back wall were half-a-dozen small, cardboard boxes stacked up like they were ready to ship. Next to them were shipping supplies, markers, labels, a postage scale. I also spotted an old box monitor on top of an ancient computer with a CD-ROM drive. “Nice place you have here.”
Connor Simmons yanked the cuffs hard and pulled my arms behind me. My shoulders gave a spasm of protest. Joanne cried out in pain, and a shudder went right through me. I felt my heart grip in my chest. “No light grenade tonight?”
He chuckled. “Flash-bangs and zip-ties are only for special ops. This is just routine guard duty. We knew you’d return once Amber was arrested. And look, here you are.”
“So, this is your warehouse?”
“Nope.”
I caught Joanne’s eyes as he pushed her past me toward the door. “If it isn’t yours, who does it belong to?”
He shoved me through the door behind Joanne. “I dunno.” He led us around back, where his police cruiser was hidden behind the Shotcrete warehouse.
Joanne asked him, “Do you know what that warehouse is being used for?”
“Not my problem.”
I tried to egg him on. “What if it’s a meth lab? Wouldn’t you be concerned about a meth lab?”
“It’s above my pay grade.”
He shoved me in the back of the car, then shoved Joanne on top of me.
He got behind the wheel and cranked the engine. I noticed he didn’t report to Dispatch that he was bringing us in. That was a bad sign. No accountability. Once he pulled through the fence, Joanne gave a subtle head jerk in his direction.
I wiggled in my seat to get sight of him through the rearview mirror. “How’d you know we would return?”
“I’m not exactly a rookie.”
Joanne softened her voice to sound less Joanney. “Oh, how long have you been on the force?”
“Three years.”
I jumped in. “That long? Have you done any work with Officer Amber in that time?”
His eyes flicked up to the mirror and held mine for a moment. “Fenton has considerably more seniority than me, so no.”
Joanne put a disapproving tone in her voice toward me. “You know Amber doesn’t work with a partner. She thinks they slow her down.”
“You’re right. No one else is competent enough.”
The back of Simmons’s neck darkened. “Fenton doesn’t work with a partner because no one wants to be anchored to a dirty cop.”
I flipped my hair to appear casual. “Really? I thought she was the station’s shining star. Didn’t she just solve five high-profile murders recently?”
Simmons looked in the rearview mirror again. “Pssh. Yeah, but with what methods? She’s made the entire squad look like no one else knows what they’re doing but her. She lists an anonymous CI on the report, but we all know that’s just a cover.”
“Then how’s she doing it?”
Joanne turned her head to make a face at me. Under her breath, I barely heard her say, “Really?”
I mouthed, What?
She gave me a piercing look in response.
Simmons continued, “Fenton’s not that smart. Someone’s helping her. Maybe she figured out t
he high-school murder on her own—she did know those people, but no way she just got lucky with that Senior Center theater. It takes longer to fill out the paperwork for a search warrant than it took her to apprehend the killer. She said the evidence just dropped in her lap. And the murder at the winery? That one was genius, and she ain’t no genius. There had to be some unauthorized searching going on there.”
Oh . . . no ... I had a really bad feeling about this. “What other high-profile murders has she solved?”
He shrugged. “One was some chef thing. I’m pretty sure she planted evidence for that one. And that dude who won the humanitarian award? He was a local hero. You better believe that got her some good press. I think she has someone on the inside.”
“The inside of a murder?” I tried not to laugh. “How exactly would that work?”
“I think the kid she killed set up some illegal wiretaps and video surveillance for her and was feeding her information.”
“Then why would she kill him?”
“He was about to go public and blow the whole thing.”
Joanne rolled her eyes. “What about the murder weapon? Did you find that?”
We stopped at a red light and Simmons looked over his shoulder and grinned. “She stashed it in a dumpster out back behind the kid’s apartment.”
I leaned forward a little. “Did you check the woods and the building first?”
“Naw. I knew it was in the dumpster. Got an anonymous tip.”
Joanne snorted. “Wow. That was really lucky.” Her sarcasm was not noticed.
Simmons pulled through a fence that said Authorized Personnel Only. “Yeah. Same with that warehouse raid the other night. Got a call that trespassers were on the property, so we went and rounded you up.” He looked over his shoulder and laughed. “Maybe I’ll be up for promotion next.”
He got out and opened my door. My cell phone rang in my back pocket.
I softened my eyes. “Do you think I could answer that? I live with my eighty-two-year-old great-aunt and she’s going to be worried sick. Her heart might not be able to take it that you’ve caught me twice in one week.”
He chewed the inside of his mouth. “Yeah. I guess that would be okay. As long as I can take it out of your pocket for you. But be quick.”