by Kim Smith
I sipped water and thought about what he’d said. Then, I glanced around. It was too loud for anyone to hear what was being said. He wasn’t being cautious about eavesdroppers. That only left trust. He didn’t trust me with all the details. He would share only the ones that had been sanitized for public consumption. Like what they fed the reporters.
I stared hard at him and tried to decipher his innocent look. It struck me then that he wasn’t going to work with anyone outside of his team on the case. He only placated Dee and I to hear our news, to see if it could help him out any. Again.
The selfish pig.
“Thanks for dinner,” I said, sliding out of the booth. “I’ll call someone for a ride.”
“What? Where are you going?” he asked, sticking out a hand. “You’ve hardly eaten your dinner.”
“I thought it would be different this time, Sal. But you are too much of a cop to be anything else. In contrast to our first date, this one is just about as bad. I still feel like I’ve been used.”
He tried to explain, but I was already halfway to the door.
I called Dwayne to get a ride home, but he didn’t answer his phone.
“Damn it.” I paced the front of the restaurant, all dressed up and nowhere to go. Dwayne likely had a date too. I hadn’t considered that.
I retreated back inside, sliding into the seat across from Sal.
“Change of plan?” he asked, dark eyebrow lifted.
“You’re an ass, Salvador Ramirez.”
“Eat. I will regale you with stories about cops. You might even learn something.”
I cut off a piece of the steak and shoved it into my mouth. It was delicious.
“Beefcake, beef steak, whatever,” I muttered, as he gave me a quizzical gaze. I had been thinking about whether I wanted to be his date and maybe have a long night with him, or run from him and his effect on me.
My phone buzzed beside me on the booth seat. I glanced at it.
Katie Henderson: the one person on earth who could save me from myself.
And she did.
Chapter Sixteen
At ten o’clock sharp, I was in a ratty tee shirt and lounge pants with my hair pulled up in a loose ponytail, remote at the ready. I switched the television to the news and settled in for Charlotte’s story.
They sandwiched it in between a suspicious house fire in Midtown, and a carjacking in Frayser. Memphis violence was at its best, apparently. I made a mental note not to spend a lot of time in the city from here on out. Too dangerous.
Charlotte’s segment began with her at the news desk talking about the porn ring before they cut to her news story complete with video feed. She had been to the adult bookstore Yoshi had told Dee and I about, and she had spent time there doing in-depth coverage of the people who frequented the place. Then, it cut to footage from the Denaldo house when Dan was found.
“The violence from this situation has spewed over to Mississippi where one of South Lake’s officers was found bludgeoned to death at the home of a local teacher who has been missing since the incident and who is believed to be a person of interest in the case,” Charlotte’s voiceover announced just before she introduced an informant. The interview was with someone who had her back to the camera, to protect her identity. Unfortunately for her, I didn’t need to see the face to know the voice. I had heard it drone on and on in class.
“I want to let people know I’m a victim of this whole situation,” Thelma said. “My involvement with certain people has enflamed a war and I’m in the middle of the crossfire. I’ve been targeted, followed, and…and my house has been burgled. Twice. I’m in fear for my life!” Her voice ended on a slight sob.
I wondered if she was talking about me. I had followed her, and I had been in her house and been caught at it. She pleaded for her freedom from arrest and buried her face to hide the tears. “I didn’t kill anyone. You people have to believe me!”
Her crying softened, and the screen went to the news desk and Charlotte.
The news hound wore a very serious look. “If anyone knows anything about this situation you are urged to call the South Lake Police Department or MPD with any information at the number on the bottom of your screen.”
The anchor woman thanked her for her report, and they cut to a commercial. I flipped the television off and thought about what the hell was going on. Then, someone knocked on my door. I walked over to it, and checked the peephole. Sal stood there glancing at his feet.
“What?” I said, pulling the door open a smidge.
“I want to try to make you understand. You’ve got some things wrong.”
“The only thing I have wrong is who killed Dan. I really thought Thelma was involved but…let’s say I’ve had a change of heart.”
He looked around, thrust a thumb over his right shoulder, and said, “Old lady Smith is listening. Can we discuss this in there, away from prying ears? I promise to share.” He looked so pitiful, I didn’t have the heart to shut him out.
“Okay, but if you say one mumbling word about my slouchy appearance, you will get slapped.
“Cross my heart,” he answered, making a wide X over his heart.
I let him come in, closed the door behind him, and took a deep breath before following him. We took our corners, me in the recliner, and him on the sofa.
“Why do you feel like Thelma is innocent now?” he asked.
“Well, you couldn’t know this because you were driving over here, but she was just on the news with Charlotte, incognito, of course. Our favorite newsperson has nosed around and come up with a bunch of trouble. Charlotte had Thelma silhouetted on the screen with her voice masked. But more than likely anyone who’s hunting her will know who it was. She has a pretty definitive voice.”
He asked. “You recognized it?”
I nodded. “She says she’s innocent of Dan’s murder, and she’s in fear for her life from whoever did it.”
“And you believed her?”
“I believe a lot of things,” I blurted out, without thinking. Oops. Then, I tried to cover my blunder. “I mean, why not? A teacher is not exactly a candidate for murder, is she?”
“But before this, you were ready to hang her. I believe in gut instinct. You have a good gut.”
I sneered. “Not hardly.” Now I squirmed a little. He had just complimented me. Couldn’t I try to be a little nice? Damn my mouth anyway.
I shoved a pillow behind my back. “And besides, I just wanted to film her stupid house so I could feel like I was earning the money I’d been paid. But it was Dan who was the victim this time. Someone I knew. Someone I considered a decent person. Now all I want to know is who killed him. And I want that just as much as you do, Sal. Only as usual, you’re shutting me out. I don’t know what to think anymore.”
He looked at his folded hands for a moment before standing to walk to where I sat. He held out his hand for me to take.
I looked up at him. “What?”
“Come on.”
I took his hand and allowed him to pull me up, focusing on his second shirt button. What did he mean to do? My heart fluttered, and I tilted my head back to meet his eyes. “What?”
“Get dressed. I’m going to make sure your conscience is clear and maybe fix what’s wrong with our friendship at the same time. I’ll get you inside Denaldo’s residence to shoot the contents.”
Surprise jolted me. “Really? You mean it?”
“Yeah, as long as Mr. Denaldo is cooperative. I think he’s moving back in. I can keep him company while you shoot the stuff you need. I’ll tell him you are a police videographer.”
“He knows me,” I admitted, looking at my bare feet.
“Oh. You’ve met?”
I nodded. “Dee and I went over and talked to him about allowing us to film it.”
“He refused?”
“No. Not really. I mean we left thinking we could get in and get it done. But so much keeps happening.”
“Brown wants in on this, I take it?”
I shuffled my feet around. “I think so. But,” I said quickly, “I can call him and ask if he minds getting cut out as long as I turn over the disks to him.”
He waved me to my tote bag lying on the coffee table.
I pulled out my phone and called Dwayne. When he picked up it sounded like a party was going on.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Driving,” he shouted. “Hang on.”
The music, some really loud rap tune, had its life snuffed out suddenly.
“What’s up?” he asked. “You ain’t told Sal the secret, have you?”
“Who me? No way. I’m in the process of getting dressed to go to the Denaldo residence to film the interior. Sal says he can clear the way with Rob Denaldo. Do you mind if I go solo?”
He giggled. “Getting dressed and ole Sallie is there? What you been doin’ girl? Naw, I don’t care. Go for it. Make me proud. I’m doin’ some investigatin’ my own self. Goin’ over to that sexy movie house Yoshi told us about. If I find anythin’ out, I’ll call you.”
I glanced at the clock on the wall over the sofa and squeezed my off button on the side of my phone. “You might want to call Mr. Denaldo. It’s getting pretty late.”
Sal nodded and pulled his cell from his belt clip as I trotted down the hall to my bedroom to pull on a pair of jeans and tee shirt. It wasn’t that I really needed to get in the Denaldo’s house again, but I sure wanted to get another gander at old Thelma’s personal stuff. And Sal was going to be the door opener? I was thrilled.
When I returned, Sal smiled. “It’s all set. He’s going to leave us to work while he drives to the grocery for beer and cigarettes. We’ll have about twenty minutes. Can you get it done in that length of time?”
I shrugged. “I’ll have to, won’t I?”
He gave me a wistful look. “I liked the dress better.”
I uttered a growl as I passed him for the door.
###
We drove over to the shop in Sal’s car, and I grabbed the video camera and a battery operated camera light with two bulbs. If I only videotaped for twenty minutes, that one would be fine. The battery would last a lot longer than that. Sal helped me carry the camera bag down the stairs and he even opened my door, tucking me in and placing the equipment at my feet. I felt around in the bag to reassure myself the signed forms were all in order. Just in case, Denaldo or anyone else wanted to change their mind.
We rolled up to the residence at a quarter of midnight. Rob Denaldo allowed us entrance and without a word, took off for the store. I proceeded to shoot everything I could think of that was of value including the entertainment center and movie collection.
When I got to the bedroom, things had changed. There were no longer any books strewn under the bed, and when I looked in the closet, there were no more clothes or shoes. I filmed everything everywhere; the linens, dishes, and bric-a-brac but had no doubt that a lot of valuables were probably gone.
Poor Jimmy. He was not going to be happy about the change in game plan.
As good as his word, Mr. Denaldo returned in about twenty minutes, laden with white plastic bags from Kringle’s grocery.
“Did you get what you came for?” he asked.
My mind screamed no, but I kept it to myself. “Yep.”
“Good. Hope that’s all I have to worry about in the days to come. That divorce lawyer of mine is one slick dude. If he can get this mess behind me, he’ll be a good one.”
“Mind if I ask you a question?” I asked.
“Shoot,” he answered.
“Where are Mrs. Denaldo’s personal affects?”
He laughed, and pulled a six-pack from one of the bags. “Her brother came and got it.”
“David Lunsford?” It came out in a big fat gasp.
Popping the top on one of his Millers, he slugged it hard before answering. “Yeah. Lunsford. He and I don’t talk anymore, but we used to be pretty close. She corrupted him against me, I guess. The bitch.”
Sal made a sound in his throat that sounded like he wanted to say something, but ended up coughing a bit, keeping his silence.
I mulled over what to do next. “Do you think Mrs. Denaldo or her brother would have taken anything of value?”
“Hell, no. I was here watching his every move. Nothing left here that I didn’t want to leave here.”
That was a little comfort at least. “Well, thanks. I’m finished.”
I lifted my camera and gave Sal a weak smile.
He said goodbye to Denaldo, and we both high-tailed it to the car.
Chapter Seventeen
When we arrived back at the apartment—safe and sound, it was getting very late, (or early depending on how you looked at it).
Sal came around and opened the car door for me. I stepped out, draped the camera bag over one shoulder and my purse over the other
“Thanks a lot for helping me get this done. I sure wish I could have gotten a look at her book collection. She’s writing erotica and that may be how she got involved with all this stuff.”
He tapped my chest with one finger making me look down, then, he chucked me under the chin playfully making me look up. “Want to make a pot of some of your wonderful Brazilian coffee and talk about it some more?”
I shook my head. “No coffee this late. I need some shut-eye. You know what a grouch a woman is when she misses her beauty sleep.”
He took a deep breath and leaned in to kiss me. I had forgotten all about how it felt to be kissed properly by someone who really liked kissing. His lips were soft and warm and in a moment or two, my toes were curling. A moment or two after that, I was ready to drop all my baggage and wrap my entire body around him.
Realizing the dangers of what my body wanted to do, I suddenly broke away like a shy teenager fearing being caught by her parents. “Wow. Well. That’s…certainly…nice.”
He pulled me back into his arms. “Let me come up.”
It took all my energy and willpower to say no.
Accepting defeat, he moved away. “When can I see you again? I’m growing tired of this mouse and cat thing.”
I shrugged, shouldered my bags again, and did a quick finger wave as I trudged up to the apartment. I didn’t look back. But I wanted to. I really wanted to.
Once inside, I flipped my light twice for him to indicate a safe arrival. Then, I peered out at the lot to watch him slowly drive away. I wasn’t sure I was completely glad I’d ditched him once again. My body surely wanted what he offered. I swiped my hair off my forehead and paced a few times. Finally, I called Dwayne.
“Yo, yo, yo,” he answered. Pinging sounds from a pinball machine filtered in, and I tried to figure out where he was.
“It’s me.”
“Duh, Wall-ass. I have your number and your face on my phone. What’s up?”
“I got all the footage I think I can get at this point. I’ll call Jimmy in the morning, but a lot has happened tonight, and I want to talk about it. Where are you?”
“Can’t do that right now, girl. I’m stakin’ out the secret place. Damn!” He made my heart pound with his exclamation.
“What? What’s going on?”
“Oh sorry. Nothin’. I’m playin’ a vintage pinball machine. Lost all my damn change, too.”
At least my ears hadn’t failed me. “Well, call me in the morning, will you? Maybe we can get coffee somewhere and talk? I really have to talk to you.”
“Roger that,” he said, disconnecting.
I stared at my phone and wondered what the hell ever possessed me to let him go to that playhouse in the first place. He’d screw things up for sure. But how had he gotten in front of a pinball machine at a sexy place like Denise’s? I was too tired to try to figure it out.
I plopped down on the couch for a moment or two, wondering if I should allow him to just work on it from his end or if I should gather up my purse and keys and go make sure he didn’t miss anything.
While trying to decide, someone knocked on my door.<
br />
What the hell? I had become mighty popular of late.
I looked at my Tigger clock on the wall. It was now the wee hours of the morning. Not a great time for a drop in visit. I soundlessly slipped my shoes off and tiptoed to the door, peered through the peephole, and snatched it open to admit Katie.
“Oh, it’s you. What’s up?” I demanded.
“I know it’s late. I know,” she said, slipping inside, shutting the door behind her. “I’ve been waiting for you to get home all damn night. Where did you and Mr. Kissy-face go?”
“You saw that?”
She giggled and plopped down on the recliner. “Every luscious, saliva-sharing, moment.”
“Look, no matter what it looked like, we’re not an item, so don’t go there.”
She raised an eyebrow, and I thought of Dee. He would have done exactly the same thing. “No? Well, didn’t look like nothing to me.”
“What are you doing here at this hour? I was just about to go to bed.”
“Alone? Tsk, tsk,” she said. “Not good, Shan, not good.”
“The purpose of this visit?” I asked again, one hand on a hip, the other waving for her to spit it out.
“Oh. Um. I sort of took a bike ride tonight with someone after I dropped you off here. You know that date thing that went wrong…and how on earth did you two end up back together again?” She paused for an answer, but I didn’t budge, so she went on. “When things got too hot for me with this guy, I cut out. I raced across the neighborhood on foot to hide out here. Been in those bushes down by the garbage cans all night.”
“Thank God it’s dark and warm,” I said. “Who’s after you?”
“Oh, no one you know, but honestly, if he finds me, he’s going to want more than a handshake, and I just don’t feel like dealing with Bluto tonight.”
I snickered at her reference to the villain of the old Popeye cartoons and nodded. “The couch isn’t being used tonight. It’s all yours.”
“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”
“No problem. You can use some of my lounge pants and dorm shirts.”
She grinned. “Just like a sleepover. Cool.”