by Gale Deitch
“Sorry, ma’am,” the guard said. “Detective Goldman is off the rest of the weekend. He won’t be in until Monday morning.”
What the hamburger? Goldman had been hounding me all week, and now when I need him, he was home in bed.
I took a deep breath and forced a smile. Zach’s freedom was on the line. I had to stay calm so I wouldn’t sound like a total loony or a hysterical female.
I’m no ingénue. I know I’m not sexy. But I’ve been around Ally long enough to know how she manipulates guys to get her way. What the heck. I’d give it a try. I smiled at the guard and batted my eyelashes, while still exhibiting my vulnerable side.
“Please, sir. I have some important information that I’m sure Detective Goldman would want to know. He’s been working on this case all week. Will you just call him? Please? I’m sure he’ll want to see me.” I let my eyes water a bit for effect.
“Oh, all right. But if I get in trouble….”
“I promise, you won’t. Detective Goldman will thank you for doing the right thing.”
WHEN GOLDMAN ARRIVED forty minutes later, I sat in the waiting area on the same bench where I’d found Zach just a week earlier. On one side of me sat a prostitute waiting for her pimp to pick her up. On the other was a homeless man who reeked of urine and who’d hoped to secure a bed in one of the holding cells. The two of them had become my best friends after telling me their stories of woe.
“Finally,” I pronounced, tapping my foot, as the detective approached me.
Goldman hadn’t bothered to comb his hair, and he definitely needed a shave. He wore a Bob Dylan t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. For the first time, he resembled someone in the human species with a life beyond the force. His biceps were impressive, and I could just about make out that six-pack below his fitted shirt. I sucked in my breath remembering that first time we’d met when I put my hand on his rock-hard chest to keep him away from Mrs. Schwartz. What was I doing paying such inappropriate attention to Goldman? Zach was in jail, and I was here to present the evidence that would clear him.
The detective didn’t seem too happy to be here. “So what’s this important information you have for me?”
“Is there somewhere I can speak to you privately?”
He walked me down the hall to his office, a bleak room with institutional-green concrete walls and a desk covered with papers and folders. His wooden, cushionless chair behind the desk appeared slightly more comfortable than the metal folding chair I was assigned to.
“Okay. I’m listening.” His face was serious, not at all the smirking, mocking expression I’d seen before. I realized that as much as I disliked this man, I was beginning to trust him.
I unburdened myself of every bit of information I could muster, from Zach’s involvement with Ally, and his accepting the blame for killing the college girl, to all my suspicions about the murder of Mr. Schwartz. I told him what I’d overheard at the Shiva house and showed him what I’d found in Mr. Lewis’ closet. I hesitated before telling him about the phone conversation I’d overheard. But as I spoke, Goldman’s expression never changed. He was a professional for once, and I appreciated that.
“So,” I concluded. “You’ll release Zach now, right?”
“It’s not that easy,” he said, shaking his head.
“Not that easy? I just gave you everything you need to absolve Zach and to solve the case. What about these pants?” I asked, holding the plastic bag and its contents out to him. “These are physical evidence.”
“They’re inadmissible evidence. Can you prove who these pants belong to? And how do we know that you didn’t put crushed peanuts into the pockets yourself? If you had these suspicions, you should have called me. I might have gotten a search warrant and located the pants myself.”
His voice grew louder as he spoke. Then he lifted himself out of his chair, yelling directly into my face. “Do you realize you could have gotten yourself into serious trouble if, in fact, Lewis had anything to do with the murder and he discovered you in his closet?”
I cringed under his assault. Heat rushed to my head like mercury in a meat thermometer, and I stood up, furious. “Even if I did call you, by the time you got a search warrant some time on Monday, the pants would have been sent off to the cleaners.”
His dark eyes focused on mine. “That may be true, but I don’t want you interfering in police business. That’s our job, not yours.”
We glared at each other a moment.
He sat down and lowered his voice. “And I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I sat back down, exhausted. I’d been up since six the previous morning and wasn’t used to pulling all-nighters. I was running on pure adrenaline and had sprung a slow leak. “What difference does it make to you?” I asked.
He turned away and rubbed his face with both hands, as if wiping away his own frustration, then contemplated me. “I’m interested in you. Okay? Why do you think I stopped your car when you were speeding?”
“Because you like me? Funny way for you to show it.”
“I didn’t want you to have an accident. So I played traffic cop.”
I thought about this a moment. Daniel Goldman was interested in me, wanted to protect me. With all of his mocking and snide remarks, he was acting like a school boy who pulls a girl’s pigtails to get her attention. Well now he had mine.
“If you do care about me, help get Zach out of jail. Find the real killer.” My voice was almost pleading. “I’ve known Zachary Cohen most of my life. He’s a good person who would never knowingly hurt anyone. The only reason he has a record is because he tried to protect someone he loved.”
“Trudie, listen.” His tone was low and calm. “You’ve given me a lot of new information. But no real proof. You don’t know that these are the pants Bob Lewis wore to the Schwartz party. You don’t know why his friend wanted him to get rid of the pants or why there were peanuts in the pockets. Even if these pants were admissible in court, which they are not, the DA will easily point out all the holes in your testimony.”
“But you can still release Zach.” I had to make Goldman understand that Zach was innocent; that he had the wrong man. I at least had to get the charges against Zach dropped, even if I didn’t have enough proof of Mr. Lewis’ guilt. “You brought Zach into the station twice because of something that happened years ago which he wasn’t even responsible for.”
“You can’t prove that either, Trudie.”
“But I have a witness. Ally told me…”
“Would Ally tell me the same thing if I questioned her?”
I knew he was trying to be reasonable with me, but why couldn’t he understand that Zach was not a murderer and shouldn’t even be a suspect? “No. I don’t think she would. But don’t you see that every minute you have Zach behind bars as the suspected murderer, the real perp is getting away with it?”
“Trudie, I’m glad you came to me with all this information. It will be a great help in my investigation.” Goldman covered my hand with his. His touch was warm and comforting. “But the judge on call this weekend is sick, so Zach’s bond hearing is scheduled for Monday morning. Nothing and no one is getting him out of jail before then.”
“Monday morning?” Zach thought that I would get him out now, this morning. How could I tell him he would be in jail the rest of the weekend?
“Look, he’s lucky I was able to pull some strings to keep him here. Otherwise he’d be down at the detention center wearing an orange jumpsuit.”
“You pulled strings for him?”
“He’s your friend, Trudie. I did it for you.”
Unexpected tears sprung to my eyes. He did it for me.
“Now I suggest you go home and get a few hours sleep. Then find a good lawyer. And you’re going to have to scrape together some money to post bond.”
“How much money?”
Goldman ran his fingers through his hair. “Knowing the judge in session on Monday, I’d say he’ll put a fifty-thousand dollar bond on Zach’s head.
“Fifty thousand dollars? I don’t have that kind of money.” I was going to have to call Zach’s parents, I realized. They’ll be heartbroken about all this.
“It’s okay, Trudie. You’ll only need to post five thousand, not fifty.”
I sighed and then laughed, the kind of laugh that comes from a combination of exhaustion and futility. “I can’t believe I’m relieved about having to post five thousand dollars.” Five thousand dollars. That was a big chunk of what we made last night. Thank goodness Barbara Lewis had handed me a check at the end of the night for the balance of what she owed us, plus a sizeable tip.
Goldman couldn’t allow me back to the holding cell, but he had one of the officers escort Zach to his office for a quick visit. The officer escorted him in, hands cuffed behind his back. His face was paler than usual, his hair more tousled than ever.
I approached him to give him a hug, but Goldman stopped me. “No contact, Trudie. And you’ve got five minutes. I’ll be watching.” He gestured toward the glass window framed into his office wall.
Zach didn’t seem surprised to learn he’d have to stay until Monday. I’d forgotten he’d been through this once before. He knew about bond hearings.
“Get in touch with Ally,” he told me. “She knows a good lawyer who helped—who can help me.”
He’d almost slipped and told me about the last time he’d been in jail. I could have told him that I knew the whole story. But he was miserable enough. That conversation could wait for another time and place. In the meantime, I wasn’t anxious to speak with Ally again, but it had to be done.
As Daniel and I headed out to the parking lot, I realized that I still had a problem. Now that I faced the prospect of driving home alone and parking in the basement garage, I was becoming anxious. I turned to Goldman. “Can I ask you a favor?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
“Would you follow me home?” Seeing the confusion on his face, I realized he thought I wanted to take him home with me, and not just for brunch. “I think someone tried to follow me when I left my apartment, and I don’t feel safe going home alone.”
“What? Someone was following you?”
“I think it was a black Town Car. He was parked in my garage, and I had a heck of a time losing him on my way here. It was pretty scary.”
“Trudie, why are you just telling me now?” he asked, throwing his hands up in frustration. “Did you get the license plate number? How many people were in the car? You should have reported this as soon as you got to the station. We could have put out an APB for them.”
“Sorry. I was worried about Zach, and it took you so long to get here, that I must have put it out of my mind. Anyway, I wouldn’t have had to leave my apartment in the wee hours of the morning if you hadn’t arrested Zach.”
“C’mon,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll follow you home.”
Goldman stayed on my tail the whole way home and drove into the garage behind me. I was surprised when he parked and got out of his car.
“I’ll be fine now,” I said. “You can go ahead. Thanks for the private escort.”
“Oh no. I’m walking you all the way to your door and checking your apartment for unwanted visitors before I leave.” He took my arm and led me to the entrance.
“But it’s a secure building. You need a code to get into any of the outside doors.” I really would feel safe once I was inside the building.
“Trudie, if someone wants to get to you, they’ll find a way to do it. Code or no code.”
“Okay. I guess you’re right.”
We took the elevator up to my floor, and I unlocked the door to my apartment. Even though Goldman motioned for me to wait at the door, I followed him as he checked each room, in the closets, under the bed, behind the shower curtain. It was kind of nice having someone watch out for me like that.
“All clear,” he announced.
I walked him to the door and peered up at him, his face unshaven, hair falling in his eyes, those dark bronze eyes that bore into me.
He held my face gently in both hands, leaned down and kissed my forehead. “You’re kind of a nut, Trudie Fine.”
“And what kind of nut would that be, Detective?”
“One of those uncrackable cases I can’t seem to get out of my mind.” He lifted my chin and kissed me softly on the lips.
His lips felt good on mine. I reached up and put my arms around his neck, drawing him closer for another, longer kiss, my body charged with a new kind of adrenaline.
“Is this part of the official police escort?”
“Something new I’m trying out,” he said, his mouth brushing across mine.
I leaned back against the door with Goldman’s body pressing against mine. We couldn’t let go, didn’t want to let go. I could feel him getting harder as he kissed my mouth, my face, my neck.
Goldman broke away. “No. We can’t do this.”
I stood there with my mouth open. Huh? Why not? I thought.
He grinned at me, breathing hard. “Don’t get me wrong, Trudie. I want you more than anything right now. This is killing me. But if I get involved with a key witness and the best friend of the murder suspect, the judge is going to throw the case right out the window, and I won’t be far behind.”
“So maybe this isn’t such a bad idea.” I grinned back, inching toward him. “If it’s a good way to get Zach released.”
“And me released from my duties as detective,” Goldman said, his arm extended to hold me back, then to pull me toward him again. He put his arms around me and planted another kiss. “All the more reason to get this case settled. Something to look forward to.”
“Mm,” was all I could get out.
As he turned to leave, I touched his arm. “Do you have to go? I’m a little nervous to be here alone.” I peered up into those deep golden eyes.
He paused and ran the back of his hand down my jawline, then kissed me again. “No, I don’t have to go. I’ll stay, but I’m sleeping on your sofa. It’s almost morning anyway, and I need to get some sleep. We both do.”
I nodded and kissed him back. “Thanks, Goldman.”
“Just one more thing,” he said.
“What?”
“If I’m going to stay the night, would you please stop calling me Goldman? It’s Daniel.”
I grinned. “Okay. Daniel.”
Chapter Thirteen
Zach and I stood side by side in the White House kitchen preparing the first course salads for the State Dinner. We frantically drizzled raspberry balsamic dressing over the rows and rows of plated wild field greens as a bell alerted us that the President and his guests were getting impatient.
The bell continued to ring, and I felt a gentle touch to my cheek. I opened my eyes to see Goldman standing over me.
“The phone,” he said. “It’s ringing.”
“Wh—?” Holy smoked salmon! I didn’t know if I was more startled to see the detective in my bedroom or relieved that I didn’t have to feed all those people at the White House. I pulled my blanket up to my neck and rolled toward the bedside table to answer the phone.
“Trudie, did I wake you, honey?”
“Mom. Are you home?” I sat up. “How was your cruise?”
“Alaska was wonderful. Your dad and I stood on a glacier. Such beautiful scenery you’ve never seen. We’ll tell you all about it and show you pictures when we see you. How are you doing, Trudie? Anything new?”
Anything new? Where should I begin? So much had happened in the past week—the Schwartz party and Mr. Schwartz’s murder, the things I’d found out about Ally and Zach, the Lewises’ dinner party, Zach’s arrest, Bradley, Detective Goldman.
I gazed at Goldman, his hair still damp from his shower and a towel wrapped around his waist. He sat down on the edge of my bed. Seeing him bare-chested and sitting so close to me, I felt my body flush from my head down to my toes. I wondered how long I’d be able to resist him.
“I have so much to tell you, Mom. Why
don’t I come over to see you and Dad later.” Mom knew the Schwartzes, so I’d have to break the news to her gently. Hopefully she wouldn’t see last week’s newspaper or get the news from her friends before I could tell her. And Zach was like a son to her. She’d freak out about his arrest.
“Great. You’ll have dinner with us.”
When I hung up the phone, Goldman turned to me. “Are you going to tell her about us?”
“Is there something to tell?” I asked. I’d only been with a few men in my life. None had any interest in continuing the relationship, much less staying the night as Goldman had, even if it hadn’t been in my bed.
His intense eyes bore into me. “Do you want there to be something to tell?”
I hesitated, not sure what he meant by that. “Listen, Goldman.”
“Daniel.”
“Daniel. I’m not sure what I want. Right now, my first priority is to get Zach out of jail and prove his innocence. And you should be out there trying to solve this case. Once my friend is free and clear, then I can think about my own life and what I want.”
“Fair enough,” he said, with an abrupt nod.
“And I don’t want Zach to know anything about what happened between us, at least for now. I mean, I’ve been fraternizing with the enemy.” My voice broke and an unexpected sob escaped my throat. I grabbed for a tissue from the night stand as tears welled precariously. “And he’s stuck in a jail cell until Monday.”
“Trudie, I’m not the enemy. I want to solve this case, too. But all evidence pointed to Zach, and it was my duty to arrest him.”
I shook my head. “That’s not true. You could have waited until you had more concrete evidence. It’s not like he was a flight risk or anything.”
“Ah, but he is a flight risk.” Daniel stood up and began to pace. “Listen, I shouldn’t talk to you about the case, but I want you to know this.” He sat down on my bed again. “Zach and Ally had tickets to fly to Toronto tomorrow.”
“What? Zach and Ally? Toronto?” I shook my head again, more slowly, trying to digest this information, my mouth open. “How do you know?”