The Veiled Cage (Lady Lawyer Series Romantic Suspense Novels Book 1)

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The Veiled Cage (Lady Lawyer Series Romantic Suspense Novels Book 1) Page 7

by Johansen, Rita


  “Money laundering?”

  Susan shook her head.

  “Manslaughter?”

  Again, she shook her head.

  “Murder?”

  Susan looked up.“Yes,”she whispered.“My husband. I didn’t do it.”

  “Where was he found?”

  “The lake cabin.”She put her head down and burst into tears.

  “What’s the address?”

  “Two-one-four-two Grays Bay Boulevard, Minnetonka. They’re saying—”

  “Susan, I’m not yet interested in what the cops are saying happened. I’m going to go there and see for myself. Meanwhile, have a good cry. Do whatever you need to do to pull yourself together. Say nothing to the police. If they ask you anything about this case, you’re going to tell them you want your lawyer. Once you get off the phone with me, they’ll process your prints, collect demographics from you, and put you in holding. I’ll be in to visit you once my team conducts an investigation at the cabin.”

  “Do you believe me?”

  “My mind is open. I’ll figure out who did it, Susan. Fair enough?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where were you arrested?”

  “My home.”

  “One second.”Ruby pulled up a directory on the stationary supercomputer on her desk.“I have your home address. It’s nine now. I’ll be there by one. Hang in there, Susan.”

  Ruby disconnected, packed her briefcase, and left her office.“PSC, call Justin Kottke.”

  “Kottke.”

  “We have a hot one. We need to move on it—now. Meet me at two-one-four-two Grays Bay in Minnetonka. Lake cabin. Usual rates, big case. Murder. Wife accused of killing her husband. How long until you arrive?”

  “What if I had a hot date?”

  “Since the woman you’re swooning after is oblivious, I’d say you’d be willing to cancel on any poor excuse for a substitute.”

  “Harsh, and accurate. Damn it. Heading out now.”

  “See you soon. PSC, disengage and call Jasmine Sinclair.”

  “Hi, Ruby.”

  “I hope you powered down.”

  “I zoned out to that show Amy recommended. It just ended.”

  “Good. I’m heading to a murder scene. Want to join me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Be there in ten. PSC, disengage and tag Anton’s.”

  “Anton speaking.”

  “Ruby speaking.”

  “Ciao, Gioia!”

  “It’s good to hear your voice, Anton, and not just because it means there’s a cannoli in my near future.”

  “You need a late night fix.”

  “Yes, do I ever.”

  “Anything with the cannoli?”

  “I’m heading to a crime scene. Give me the usual.”

  “Cops sampler, and a black-and-strong coming right up.”

  “And throw in something healthy. Got any green goop ready to go?”

  “So you are taking your new intern. Jasmine, Morning Glory and GreenPower. I like her very much.”

  “Your mind is a steel trap, my friend.”

  “How is she working out?”

  “Great. She’s willing to dive right in.”

  “When will you be by?”

  “I’m getting to your door now.”Ruby set her PSC to standby and parked. In one fluid movement, she was out of the car and hurrying into the familiar scents of fresh baked bread and strong coffee. Tearing her eyes away from the tempting baked goods displayed in tidy rows, she focused on the man behind the counter wearing a white baker’s coat.“Hey, Italian Stallion. There’s the man with the goods in the flesh.”

  “You’re too much. I’m tossing in the last pastries. Nice and hot. I’ll put it on your tab.”Anton moved his hefty frame with surprising speed. Brushing flour from his hands, he enfolded Ruby in an enthusiastic embrace, and pulled back enough to give her cheeks loud kisses.

  She balanced herself on the counter as he released her abruptly to hand her a giant bakery bag and a coffee kit.

  “Thanks, Anton. This smells like my idea of heaven.”

  “At the rate you’re going, you might get there sooner than you think.”

  “Not you, too. You own a bakery. You should be on my side. I’m one of your best customers.”

  “We started offering healthy options for a reason.”

  “Somehow, I didn’t picture the angel at the gates to sugary delights chastising me.”

  “See you in the morning, I suspect.”

  “You know it. I’ll rally the team at eight. The proper fuel will discourage a coup against the fiend dragging them out of bed on a Saturday morning.”

  “I’ll have Angela deliver.”

  “You’re a saint. You deserve those manly wings.”

  “Scoot.”He tossed a cinnamon roll at her head.

  She caught and sampled it.“Divine. A presto!”She waved the roll, and walked out to the sound of his great guffaws.

  Back in her car, she accelerated into traffic bound for dancing, bar hopping, and blind dates.“PSC, message to Colin Lewis. Murder case. Client is Susan Combes. Victim is client’s husband, Jerald Combes. Please pull data on both. Prep file for meeting at eight sharp, conference room. Expecting six, counting you. Angela will deliver. Settle up our firm’s account when she does.”

  Ruby’s unit sounded.

  “PSC, recite message.”

  Will do.

  “Respond, eternally grateful. End message. Call Amy Larson.”

  “Need a head shrinking, my dear?”

  “Not yet. It’s still shrunk from dinner. I picked up a murder case. The client is Susan Combes. She’s charged with killing her husband. I’ll need you to profile. Eight work for you?”

  “It would be my pleasure. Should I pick up Anton’s on my way in?”

  “Thanks for the offer. Angela’s swinging over.”

  “Anything edible?”

  “I told Anton to throw some nondescript glowing items into the mix, along with the real food.”

  “That was very thoughtful.”

  “Fuel increases productivity.”

  “Right, it was a practical move.”

  “Precisely.”

  “See you at eight, Ruby. Good luck.”

  “Yes, luck—‘I’m a great believer in luck. The harder I work the more I have of it.’”

  “Thomas Jefferson, I believe.”

  “Yes.”

  “Go make some luck.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  Ruby dropped her PSC in the cup holder, and pulled in front of a brick apartment building.

  Jasmine ran out in business casual with brown flats, and flew into the passenger seat.

  “Hey Jazz. Nice outfit. Ever been to a crime scene before?”

  “No, can’t say that I have.”

  “First rule—never arrive empty-handed, or on an empty stomach.”Ruby handed her a cup and a small bag.“Here, your green goo and something healthy. Don’t ask me what’s in them. I stopped at Anton’s for coffee and baked goods. There’s the cop stereotype for a reason. Our shared vices are excellent fodder for bonding. Bonded equals more inclined to inform. And it’s the humanitarian thing to do. Err on the side of compassion—rule two.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I’ll know it when I see it. Go in with a clear mind. Often, the cops arrive with a conclusion, and look for evidence to support it. We’re looking for evidence, period. If we don’t gather what they miss now, it may be lost. Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  “First time’s the hardest. It doesn’t get easy, but it gets easier. If there ever comes a time when getting near death doesn’t elicit a reaction, resign.”

  They pulled over in front of the cabin.

  “It’s like daytime out here,”Jazz said.

  Black and whites parked across the yard. Squad lights filled the blackness with red and blue. Spotlights illuminated the driveway and the path leading to the front porch.
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  Ruby noted that there was no white outline in the lit area. The CSIs would make quick work of the outside, she figured, and then she could make her own observations up close. Not one to waste time, she turned to her intern, and said,“Stay in the car, Jazz. Figure out who owns the adjacent property. Research the owner or owners. I’m going to get the lay of the land.”Ruby grabbed the large bakery bag and coffee kit.

  “Good luck. My grandmother always said it never hurts to have the golden lady on your side.”

  “No, it never does. Thanks, Jazz.”

  Ruby strolled over to a slim man in a black jumpsuit.

  He had set up his work station away from the yellow tape and heavy foot traffic streaming in and out of the cabin, and in close proximity to the white van with black letters declaring its purpose: Crime Scene Investigations. His long brown ponytail streamed across the white letters labeling him a crime scene investigator.

  “There’s dedication,”she said.“Hard at work at quarter to ten on a Friday.”

  He turned toward Ruby’s voice.

  “You have photographs, Jimmy?”

  “You know I do. I’m not known as the best photographer in the unit for nothing.”

  “I know it, and you know it. They call you in on all the big cases for a reason. When will I get to admire your work?”

  “Would you settle for when the county attorney hands it over?”

  “Come on, Jimmy, I brought sustenance. You get skinnier every time I see you. My grandmother called these crullers. Came by my sweet tooth honestly. You interested?”

  “You know I am.”

  “I have some hot coffee to wash it down.”

  “Even better.”

  “I need a quick peek, Jimmy. I’ll be done by the time you fuel up. As the defense, I have a right to these pictures.”

  “Well . . .”He eyeballed the bakery bag.

  “I sprang for the good stuff. Nothing but the best for the best.”

  “Deal. Hand it over.”

  “As soon as you pull up the photos.”

  He tapped at his laptop, and spun it so she could see the screen.

  Ruby opened the bag.

  After snagging a cherry cruller and a white frosted donut, he took a generous bite into one and then the other.

  “You happen to know who’s on charging duty tonight?”

  “Hollins,”he mumbled around pastry, flakes falling from his mouth.

  “Hollins?”

  He swallowed, swiped a hand over his cheek, and wiped cherry jelly on his pants.“Yeah, and he has plenty of direction.”

  “Johnston’s been talking to him?”

  “Screaming, more like. Can’t help but hear him. Johnston was first on the scene. Made the ID. Called it in. The vic’s a real good buddy of his.”

  “What’s Johnston after?”

  “Warrants for the wife’s car, for her arrest. He’s been hollering for updates for the PC statement. Wants it all done by the book.”

  “No special treatment for his buddy—no extra samples, more photos?”

  “Hell no. He was very clear on that. Strictly follow procedure.”He lowered his voice.“He’d send your client to Mardova tonight if he could.”

  Ruby pursed her lips.“How long before the scene’s cleared?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “I’ll stay outside until then.”Ruby set down the coffee kit.“Pour yourself some coffee, Jimmy, and enjoy it while I peruse your fine work.”Ruby scrolled through photos and made notes on her PSC. She grabbed her stylus and sketched a rough diagram.

  “You see, it’s open and shut. Looks like Johnston will get your client that one-way ticket to Mardova.”

  “It’s not so much about what I see, Jimmy, as what I don’t see.”

  “You’re always good for a riddle, Ruby. Going to elaborate?”

  “Of course not. I’m still in observation mode, Jimmy. I hear Kottke coming.”

  “You have to admit his bike is prime.”

  “Ogle it later, Jimmy. The sooner you finish up, the sooner you get to go home to Sarah.”

  “That’s not an incentive, Ruby.”

  “I thought you two made up.”

  “So did I. Can’t figure her out for the life of me. Any suggestions? You know, you being a woman and all.”

  “I say bring her a cruller.”

  “She hates sweets. Gets after me for rotting my insides.”

  “I was going to say chocolate next. That’s out. Flowers? Is an apology in order?”

  “Probably. How the hell am I supposed to know?”

  “Did you miss a special occasion?”

  “Well, how am I supposed to figure out something I forgot?”

  “Do you have a shared calendar?”

  “Yeah, Sarah set it up a while back. Never looked at it though.”

  Ruby waited.

  “Hey, that’s a fine idea. Damn it. I should have thought of that.”

  “When did you get married? When’s her birthday?”

  He grabbed his phone from the workbench and accessed the calendar.“Let’s see. Her birthday is the fourth of August.”

  “That’s not it. But make a note so you don’t miss it.”

  “Come to think of it, Ruby, we did have a summer wedding. I have a bad feeling about this. Yup. There it is. The seventh of May. She even made a note about the year we were hitched. I spaced on our tenth.”

  “Way to go, Jimmy.”

  “Thanks a lot. I’m an idiot.”

  “It’s only Friday. Plan a flashy evening for Saturday. It’d make sense to not do a big-deal date on a weeknight. You were saving it for the weekend.”

  “Yeah, I better hurry up and get home. Any ideas what I should do?”

  “You’re on your own there, Jimmy. I’m done here. Good luck.”She headed back to her car.

  Justin Kottke had dismounted, removed his helmet, and shaken out his thick mahogany hair, unaware he had a captive audience. He unzipped his leather jacket, and called over,“Hey Ruby.”

  Jasmine darted from the car, and intercepted Ruby.“You know him? He’s quite the specimen.”

  “Yeah, you stop noticing. We went on a date a few years back, before he left the precinct and turned PI. Had a fun time, no spark. I still find his mind sexy as hell.”

  “So he’s available?”

  “You could try, Jazz. Fair warning, he’s madly in love with a horse whisperer. She’s clueless. Come on.”Ruby strode over to Justin with Jasmine at her heels.

  “Jazz, meet Justin Kottke—finest investigator around. This is the newest addition to our team.,Jasmine Sinclair.”

  “So you got around to hiring an intern. How’s it going so far?”he asked Jasmine.

  She stood silent, mesmerized by the flecks of gold in his chocolate-brown eyes.

  “Ruby put you in a sugar coma?”

  “No, no, I’m fine,”she said.“This is the best job I’ve ever had.”

  “Speaking of, let’s get to work. Kottke, team meeting at eight tomorrow. That means you, Jazz, if you want in.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Hopefully, we’ll get some shut-eye before then,”Ruby said.

  “Where’d you put the Anton’s?”

  “With Jimmy.”

  “I’ll take care of distribution.”

  “I was counting on it. When you’re done here, head to the Combes’residence. After this, Jazz and I will head over to the jail to interview Susan.”

  “What’d you observe about her so far?”

  “She’s no hardened killer.”

  “Any kind of killer? Heat of passion? Self-defense?”

  “We’ll know soon enough, won’t we?”

  “True. Nice to meet you, Jasmine.”He shot her a grin, and strolled over to Jimmy.

  Jasmine turned her dreamy smile on Ruby, and snapped out of it when she saw Ruby’s amused expression. Summoning a serious look, she asked,“Are you sure Justin doesn’t need a hand?”

  “What for? To g
rab his ass? Sorry, Jazz. You’re stuck with me. Although it’s nice to know you have a vice after all.”

  Jasmine blushed.

  “Don’t let Kottke distract you from why we’re here. Kottke handles forensics. He’ll do a thorough walk-through, and send any samples to a lab in Bloomington. I do my own, independent investigation, and compare notes with him later. What did you notice as we were driving up?”

  “Lots of personnel. Is this the usual amount for a murder?”

  “Yes. On top of this horde, there’s another one at the residence. What about the location?”

  “Remote.”

  “Yes, it’s at the end of the road. One neighbor a significant distance away. It’s a good place to commit murder. I suspect the road is visible from the neighbor’s porch. Did you spot the light on the porch as we were driving up?”

  “No, I missed it.”

  “Hopefully so did the killer or killers. Let’s find out if anyone was on the porch, shall we?”

  Chapter 8

  “Why aren’t we using the front door?”Jasmine asked.

  “It’s visible from the crime scene. We want to fly under the radar. Cops get cranky when they don’t get their coffee and donuts, and when they think we’re interfering with their investigation. We’re within bounds here. Witness interviews are part of mounting a defense. Nothing is stopping them from walking over to speak to . . .”

  Jasmine consulted her notes.“Carol Lawrence. Seventy-two. Recently widowed. Late husband, Jeffrey. Currently works as a librarian, part-time. She has an apartment in the city—her primary residence. Ran a 5K last month with her daughter. Made the local news. Also has a son.”

  “Well done.”Ruby knocked on the porch door.“She must have been up and moving,”Ruby noted when the porch light flicked on and the inside door opened.“I’m Ruby Miller and this is Jasmine Sinclair,”Ruby called to the woman crossing the porch.“We’re looking into what went on at your neighbor’s. You notice the activity going on over there?”

  “Yes, yes. I’ve been up wondering if anybody was going to ask me about it.”

  “No officers have been over?”

  “No. Aren’t you peace officers?”

  “We’re not. I’m a lawyer. Jasmine here is an intern with my office. Our client is Susan Combes. We’re here to figure out what happened tonight.”

 

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