by Stalker
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her I don’t know anyone. I tried to be calm, but it really pissed me off. Then when the carjacking happened…only it turned out to be more than just a jacking. Man, I was nervous. If she had planned this, and I kinda knew what was going on…what did that mean for me? I must have spent six months looking over my shoulder, waiting for something to happen.”
“How many days passed between the time she asked you about stealing the car and the actual jacking?”
“About a month.”
“So, for a month, she didn’t mention anything about the Corniche?”
“No…well, no more schemes. She still complained about Armand, though. How he couldn’t manage money. When the jacking happened, I called her to offer my condolences. She wasn’t home at the time, but she did call me back a week later, telling me she was in no state to see anyone. And even if she was in a state to see someone, she couldn’t afford me anymore. I returned that phone call, but again she wasn’t home. That was the last of it. Until last week—when I was carjacked.”
She tapped her foot, then again took a big swig from her water bottle.
“I let my guard down because it’s hard to live in a state of paranoia. Big mistake.”
“Why do you think you were carjacked?” Oliver asked.
“Who knows? The car’s flashy, I look vulnerable, a random thing, or…a reminder to keep my mouth shut.” Stacy’s eyes moistened. “I don’t know. If someone wanted to warn me, why wait a year?” She stared at the detectives. “Right?”
Marge and Oliver nodded simultaneously. But it didn’t seem to console her.
“This has been a real nightmare,” Stacy went on. “I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I take on more clients than I should because work seems to drive away the fear. That’s the only positive. I’m making more money than usual.” She stood and picked up the other cat. This one sensed the tension and squirmed in her arms. But Stacy held on tight. Maybe a little too tight. “The way I’m working…it can’t go on forever. I’m wrecked!”
“Couple more questions, Stacy, and then we’ll leave you in peace,” Marge said. “Lark ever talk about her social life?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did she talk about her friends?”
“Yeah, sure. She talked about everything.”
“Do you remember names?”
“Oh boy.” She pondered the question. “Most of her chatter was background noise. I just said uh-huh a lot and told her to keep breathing.”
“Did she ever mention the name Dexter Bartholomew?” Oliver asked.
“Dexter Bartholomew?” Stacy shook her head. “Not that I can recall.”
“Doesn’t ring any sort of a bell?”
“No. Should it?”
“Not necessarily,” Marge answered. “How about Elizabeth Tarkum?”
She thought a moment, then shook her head again. “No.”
“You don’t recall any specific names?” Marge asked.
Stacy looked pained. “This is a year-old memory so I could be totally off-base. A couple of times Lark talked to me about a guy who was her ace in the hole. She didn’t have to worry about anything because he had mucho clout.”
Mucho clout! “A cop?” Marge suggested.
Stacy thought about that. “Could be. Way she was talking, I figured it was some Mafia guy. But a cop would be more reasonable, right?”
“Right,” Marge answered. “Do you recall a name?”
“Something Germanic comes to mind, but that’s as much as I remember.” She shook her head, then got up and opened the door. “I really do have a dinner date.”
“Thanks for your time,” Marge said.
Stacy practically slammed the door on their heels. They walked in silence for a few moments, noticing the chill in the air. Marge tightened her jacket. “It’s a cop and that’s why she’s holding back the name. She’s scared witless. Bad cops are dangerous.”
“Hey, even good cops are dangerous.”
“All the more reason she’s quaking,” Marge said. “So do we press Lark for the name of the ace in the hole or go back and press Stacy?”
“If we go back and press Stacy, she’s going to bolt.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right. Lark may do the same now that the insurance came through. Maybe we should just sit tight until we reach the company on Monday?”
Oliver raised his eyebrows. “If we ever get to Monday. Man, this has been one hell of a weekend. And it’s not even over.”
Marge stopped walking. “You’re expecting more?”
He faced her, making eye-to-eye contact. “I’m worried about Cindy. Deck hasn’t heard from her and she’s not answering her pages. That’s not good. I’m going over there.”
Marge lowered her voice. “You’re involved with her, aren’t you?”
Oliver looked away. “I plead the fifth.”
Cindy’s foot was on the gas pedal by nine-thirty, meaning she’d be late to Bellini’s and would have to endure Hayley’s inevitable ribbing. She had given three hours of her undivided attention to her mother, yet Mom seemed insulted when Cindy had to go, as if love was measured in minutes of idle conversation. Still, her mother’s house was familiar, unlike Bellini’s, which was noisy, crowded, and filled with tipsy cops whose macho posturing and dares often turned ugly in a finger snap.
Shielding her eyes from the incandescent glare, Cindy scouted the room and found Hayley at a table, along with Andy Lopez and his partner, five-year vet Tim Waters, in almost a replay of a week ago. The table held others as well, including slick Rick Bederman, staring at Hayley with intense brooding eyes. As he spoke, he twisted his wedding ring as if the jewelry was uncomfortable. On Bederman’s left was his partner, Sean Amory, also married, but that didn’t stop his baby blue eyes from scoping out the ladies. Lastly, there was Carolyn Evert—a six-year vet who was a five-ten and leggy blonde. They were chugging down shooters and laughing themselves red-faced. Absent were Tropper, Ron Brown, and Beaudry. Cindy couldn’t help but wonder…
Seeing all these people, Cindy’s first impulse was to turn and walk out. The combined events over the last several days were giving her high anxiety—rapid heartbeat, sweaty palms, jumpy eyes. But she was determined to conquer her fears. With calculation, she ambled over to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat with her stomach against the back of it, squishing herself between Bederman and Evert. Hayley handed her a shooter. “How was Mama?”
Cindy emptied the contents of the shot glass in a single swallow. “Neurotic.” She turned to Carolyn Evert. “I’m Cindy Decker. I hate your legs. Not that they’re bad. Just that I wish they were mine.”
“Genetics, girlfriend,” Carolyn answered. “Just like your red hair.”
“I’ll swap you,” Cindy said.
“Be careful what you wish for.” Carolyn picked up a lock of Cindy’s tresses. “I might take you up on it one day.”
“Take another shooter, Cin,” Hayley said. “Drown out your problems with Mr. Cuervo.”
Taking the glass, raising it to her lips, but not really drinking. The first chugalug satisfied her social obligations. Now she concentrated on keeping her wits. “So what happened in the wonderful world of Hollywood in my absence?”
Lopez said, “The usual.” He had his hands clasped around a tumbler of something cold and clear. “Sleazeballs and assholes.”
Carolyn said, “We were just wondering where Doogle was. I don’t have a lot of cash, and I was kind of hoping my sleek legs would extend my credit past the hundred mark.”
“I’m sure they would if they were open,” Waters said.
“In your dreams,” Carolyn answered. “You wanna loan me a twenty spot, aqua boy?”
“What’ll it get me?”
“Goodwill,” Carolyn answered. “Maybe the next time I see you, you can kiss my feet. And think of this, Waters. My feet are attached to my legs.”
Waters nodded in contemplation, then gave her two tens.
Lopez smirked. “Wasn’t that movie money for you and the little woman?”
“I’ll take her to the Rialto. Every seat two seventy-five all the time.”
Carolyn held up the bills. “Thank you, Waters.”
“The least you can do is sit with me while I tell you my troubles.” He looked pointedly at Cindy. “It’s getting crowded here. I think I see a spare booth in the corner.”
Carolyn sighed. “You ain’t gettin’ any. Let’s keep that clear. But if you have the need to talk, I suppose twenty bucks can buy you a couple of ears for a bit.”
Waters stood up. “I just need a shoulder to cry on. And being as yours is so lovely—”
“Yadda, yadda, yadda.” Carolyn arose from her seat. “See you all later. Timmy needs to express his feminine side.”
Hayley watched them for a moment, then surveyed the room like it was uncharted territory. At first, she appeared to be looking for someone, then abruptly she turned to Cindy. “Don’t take it personal…them leaving. They’ve been at it all night.”
“As long as it’s not my breath.”
“Your breath is fine,” Bederman said.
Cindy gave him a smile but said nothing.
Bederman said, “How’s your partner doing?”
“Beaudry?” Cindy shrugged. “He’s fine…oh, that’s right. You used to partner with him.”
“Yep.”
Cindy nodded, leaving the unasked question of Why’d you request a transfer? floating in the miasma.
Bederman said, “Beaudry tells me you’re smart.”
“You two still talk?” Cindy said.
“All the time. He’s a great guy. We just aren’t partners anymore.”
Cindy expected him to elaborate. But he didn’t. “Well, that’s nice to hear. I know Beaudry thinks I’m a wiseass.”
“Everyone thinks you’re a wiseass, Decker,” Lopez broke in. “You’re real wise with a real good ass.”
“That’s a real knee-slapper, Lopez,” Hayley commented dryly. “You must be a riot with the twelve-year-old boys.”
Lopez’s face darkened. Cindy felt her heart in her chest. Lopez was still on her list of would-be stalkers and the last thing she needed was for him to be pissed. She tried to deflect his embarrassment with a smile. But all it did was encourage him to keep putting his foot in his mouth. He said, “Marx, on the other hand, has a rep for being very hard…that is, when she’s not being too easy.”
The table ooohed, but Hayley just laughed it off. “Oh, my, my, Andy, you are one swift animal with clever quips. You should challenge the results of your recent IQ test. Surely they made a mistake when they listed you at the imbecile level.”
The nastiness was making everyone queasy. Sean Amory said, “Why don’t you give him a break, Marx? He’s a rookie.”
“Being a rookie is no excuse for being unfunny.”
“Being a vet is no excuse for being a bitch.” Lopez stood, knocking over his chair. “See you guys later.”
Hayley shoved a handful of peanuts into her mouth. “Well, that told me off.” She looked at Bederman and Amory. “You think I’m a bitch?”
“All women are bitches sometimes,” Bederman said. “Just like all guys are bastards sometimes. But you really should pick on someone your own size.”
“He’s taller than me!”
“He was imitating Waters,” Amory piped in. “He’s got a prick for a partner. He thinks you have to be a prick. Cut him some slack.”
“Why should I? He’s a jerk.”
No one spoke. Then Hayley got up. “It’s not enough being a fucking woman in a male-dominated, paramilitaristic organization, I also gotta play Florence what’s-her-face to the weaker members of your sex to keep their thingies from shriveling up like sausage casing. I’ll be right back.”
The table had suddenly become roomy. Cindy had emptied it from seven people down to three in less than five minutes. She felt exposed. It appeared to her that the remaining two men were studying her but pretending not to. Bederman broke the interlude. “You’re a quiet one.”
Cindy smiled. “It’s safer that way.”
Bederman was about to pour himself another drink. Then he stopped. “I should be getting home. I told my wife by ten.” He checked his watch and turned to Amory. “What about you?”
“You go,” Amory said. “I’ll sit with the youngun till Marx gets back.”
“It’s fine really,” Cindy said. “I don’t need a baby-sitter. And I don’t mind solitude.”
Amory smiled. “Then you’ve come to the wrong place.”
“Why are you here?” Bederman said.
“At Bellini’s?” Cindy asked. “Hayley. We agreed to meet here. In lieu of dinner.”
“You like Hayley?” Bederman asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“She made a lot of wrong turns,” Bederman said. “Fucked a lot of married men. Now she’s bitter. Don’t go that route.”
“Don’t worry. It’s not me.”
Bederman stared at her for a moment. “What is you?”
She wasn’t sure whether he was sizing her up. Whether he was about to make a move on her. That was just dandy: some other male to be concerned about. “Bederman, that’s a good question with many answers. Right now, me is slightly tired with a bit of a headache.”
“Need an Advil?”
“I’ve taken several, thank you.”
“Can I give you a lift somewhere?” he asked innocently.
“No, I have my car. But thanks.”
Bederman suddenly seemed to lose interest. He turned his attention to Amory. “You coming over to watch the game tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I’m bringing the family.”
“You bring the family and the beer. I’ll provide the eats.”
“Deal.”
Bederman left. Cindy glanced over her shoulder. Hayley was sitting next to Lopez, her body leaning toward him, nodding as Andy talked. Apparently, they had reached some kind of truce. To Amory, she said, “I’m really okay.”
“I’m sure you are. You know, I don’t like Marx, but Lopez was a jerk for talking about your ass like that. You shouldn’t let him get away with it.”
“I’ll deal with him, but not in public. I don’t like embarrassing people.”
“You didn’t mind stepping over Tropper.”
Cindy felt a squirt of adrenaline course through her body. “You couldn’t mean that domestic about a week ago. That was no big deal.”
“Maybe not to you, but the sergeant wasn’t pleased. If your last name wasn’t what it was, you’d have a big black mark on your quarterly assessment report. But being as your dad carries some weight, Tropper backed off.”
“Amory, I was just trying my best.”
“The best thing isn’t always the proper thing.”
“I’ve been making it up to him.” She blushed at the way it came out. “By helping him out with his paperwork, I mean.”
“Yeah, everyone knows you’ve been typing his reports; they’re coherent.”
“Oh no.” Cindy made a face. “Are people gibing him about that?”
“They think you’re sleeping with him. And Tropper isn’t correcting them.”
Without thinking, Cindy yanked her head back, as if punched in the chin. “That’s not only false, it’s totally ludicrous!” But she felt more fear than outrage.
Amory spread out his arms. “Don’t kill the messenger. You could maybe help yourself out and stop typing his reports.”
“It was Beaudry who suggested I do it.”
“Maybe he didn’t give you such good advice.”
Cindy stared at him, uncertain if he were friend or foe. “Maybe I should just do my job and stop listening to people. Who thinks I’m sleeping with Tropper?”
“Camps seem to be split,” Amory said. “The macho types are saying, ‘Yeah, well, typical of a broad trying to get ahead.’ Then there are other apes who know your name is Decker and you’re not stupid�
��or at least not that stupid. Especially to do something like that with Tropper.”
“I am not sleeping with Clark Tropper. Actually, I’m not sleeping with anyone at the moment, cops or no cops. I am at a complete standstill in the love-life department.”
“That could be changed.”
“Not with any of you guys,” Cindy said. “Thank you, but I’ll maintain my nunlike status. You could do me a favor and spread the word.”
“That you’re a nun.”
“That I’m off-limits.”
Amory stood up. “I think that’s my exit line.”
“Nice talking to you, Amory.” In a few short minutes, Cindy had completely cleared the table. Man, wasn’t she the life of the party. In what seemed like an eternity, she waited by herself until Hayley had the grace to return. She gave Cindy a quizzical look. “You look wiped.”
“Amory just told me that people think I’m sleeping with Tropper. Is that true?”
“I think Amory was hoping you were sleeping with Tropper,” she said. “If you were stupid enough to do that, you’d be stupid enough to fall for one of his lines.”
“You didn’t answer the question. Have you heard any comments like that?”
“Nothing serious. Amory’s a pussy hound. He was trying a line out. It didn’t work. Let it pass.”
Cindy didn’t bother asking how she knew about Sean. “What about Bederman?”
“Don’t even ask.” Marx rubbed her forehead. “God, I’m sick of this fucking place. Why are we here?”
Because you suggested it! Cindy wanted to say. Instead she said, “Let’s go somewhere quiet for coffee.”
“That sounds good. How about your place?”
Why the hell would Hayley want to go to her apartment? To finish off a job she started last night? But, by her tone of voice, the invitation almost sounded romantic…like she wanted something cozy. With the way that Cindy felt about guys at the moment, it almost sounded tempting. Almost. “Did you work things out with Lopez?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Where is he?” Cindy looked around. “I don’t see him. Where’d he go?”
“I dunno.” Hayley searched the room. “I left him at the bar. Who cares? Let’s just get out of here.”