Randy stared into the distance, continuing in a whisper as if in shock, like he hadn’t heard her latest question. “She couldn’t see how difficult it was. She always thought he would get better. That as he grew up, he’d be easier to handle. She thought that if she tried enough therapies, she’d find one that would work and she’d cure him. But that’s not the way it works. New therapies made him more irritable. He’d come home and need hours to unwind before he could sit still. Jenna was willing to try anything, but none of it had any effect. Except the remedy.”
“The remedy?”
“That’s what we called it.”
“Nice euphemism.” Cal shook her head. “You know what? Alan was part of the package. If you wanted to be with Jenna, then he was part and parcel of that. If you didn’t want to deal with Alan, why not find someone else? Move over to Pat openly?”
“I wanted to be with Jenna. There had to be a way I could deal with Alan and be with her. Other parents at the Society said they’d used this remedy. They said it was safe. A miracle cure for behavioral problems. So I thought I would try it. I didn’t even know the first time I used it that it had opium in it. They just called it a natural remedy.” He shook his head at Cal, his eyes pleading. “It was like magic. He was calm. He would let me hold him. Or take him by the hand when we were out. He didn’t have tantrums or meltdowns. We didn’t have to train him to behave himself; he just changed. He was like a different person.”
“Powerful drugs will do that.”
“So do the right ones, don’t you see? Like with those ‘Awakenings’ people, dopamine or whatever. It’s like magic when you find the cure, right? It never hurt him. It didn’t make him sick. It just made him…normal, almost. He was happy.”
“And then what happened? What upset this happy little scene? Did the remedy stop working so well? Did somebody else discover what you’d done?”
“No!” Randy shook his head adamantly. “Everything was fine with me. I wouldn’t have ever done anything to hurt Jenna. I could never hurt her. Never. She was the one that changed, not me.”
“Changed? How?”
“Like you said, money in her pocket. She said she had a pay raise, plus extra hours, but it didn’t make her happy. I asked her to cut back, and she acted like I kicked her dog.”
“She had a dog?”
Randy rolled his eyes. “Metaphorically.”
“But you found out something eventually—even if it was the night she died. Who are you covering for? There’s no point in it anymore. Whoever promised to keep your secret from the police in exchange for you taking the fall for him, it’s too late. You might as well tell me now and I’ll try to help you. Or, you can tell the cops when they arrive.” Cal flipped her phone open and held her thumb over the number 9.
Randy brought his hands up to his face, covering his eyes. His shoulders slumped, and Cal figured it was a relief for him that someone knew. He sobbed, shoulders shaking, tears seeping out around his hands.
“Who?” Cal demanded. “Who were you covering for, in exchange for their silence?”
“I can’t…”.
“Tell me!” Cal insisted. “Tell me so we can send him to prison for what he did to Jenna. If you loved her, then prove it. Punish the guy who killed her!”
He scrubbed at his eyes with his fists, and then lowered his hands. “I begged her. She said it was my fault. She said it was because of what I had done. And the only way to keep it secret was to confess. To say that it was my fault, because it was. To take all of the blame.”
Cal was confused. “Who told you? Jenna?”
“No. Brook.”
“Brook? What are you talking about? Brook told you…?”
Randy nodded. Cal tried to untangle the threads.
“Are you saying it was Brook? She was the one who killed Jenna?”
There was a long, snuffling sniffle from Randy. He sobbed. “Yes. Brook.”
“Why would Brook kill her? I thought they were lovers. Was it a lovers’ quarrel after all? Not between you and Jenna, but between Brook and Jenna?”
“No. Brook never loved Jenna. She pretended to, maybe, but she just…seduced Jenna.”
“Why?”
Randy wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. His eyes were red-rimmed. He looked more gaunt than Cal remembered him. Had he lost weight, or was it just the stress and grief that had lengthened his face and deepened the lines?
“I was close with Brook before Jenna, a while back. But she resented Jenna when we got together. She harassed me, stalked me, sent me nasty texts. ‘If you don’t want to be with me, you can’t have anyone else,’ stuff like that. Then…” He sniffled again. “Then things seemed to get better. The harassment stopped. I thought she’d given up and accepted it.”
Cal nodded, encouraging. “But…?”
“Jenna started to go to church every chance she could—not only Sundays, but weeknight events, stuff like that. She’d ask me to watch Alan if we had him. I didn’t think anything of it. She started wearing that crucifix, but she didn’t preach at me or anything. I thought it was good for her, even if I wasn’t into it.”
“And then you found out she was meeting Brook there.”
“For more than just church. Brook told me. Threw it in my face. Showed me pictures.”
Cal’s stomach and chest tightened. Brook had seemed like a nice, reasonable person. What she was hearing from Randy told a completely different story.
“She’s evil,” Randy hissed. “She wanted to hurt me, so she got in between us. Pretended to be Jenna’s friend. Gave her gifts and became her lover, and made sure I knew about it. She pulled Jenna in deeper and deeper…”
“Is that who Jenna was afraid of?”
“She worked to give Jenna everything she wanted. A spiritual connection. Money for Alan’s therapies and medications. She wanted to be everything to Jenna, to steal her. To get back at me for not paying attention to her, and to break me and Jenna up. It was revenge.”
“The money was a gift?” Cal asked, not believing it. Brook worked a mid-level job in an office. Where would she get that kind of money?
“No.” Randy swallowed. He stared up at the sky. His eyes were dry. “It wasn’t a gift. It was for…the drugs.”
“Brook?” Cal couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. “Brook was the drug dealer Jenna was working for?”
“Yeah, but nobody called it that. Jenna was so happy. She had everything she needed for Alan instead of trying to make it from one paycheck to the next. And she thought she was doing something good. Brook let Jenna distribute the remedy, make extra cash. People loved the stuff, in and out of the Renfaire scene. It sold like hotcakes.”
“So…the money was great, and the customers loved their pusher.”
“Because it was medicine, not recreational,” Randy said. “Medicine that people needed to treat their injuries, make their lives better. Natural remedies the system prohibited, to protect Big Pharma’s profits. They acted like the suppliers were the heroes. But it’s hard to get good quality natural opium poppy juice instead of street drugs like heroin. Or it was, until Brook found a source and opened up the tap, and made Jenna her front woman, her dealer.”
“So Jenna gave you the remedy to give to Alan?”
Randy hung his head. “No, I didn’t even know the two things were connected at first. I got the remedy from a Society herbalist Cruiser recommended. She must have added in the opium. I knew it had Valerian and St. John’s Wort and Chamomile and some other stuff, but not opium.”
“At first.”
“I figured it out, but…it worked so well, in such a tiny dose… I was giving Alan the remedy, so he was calm and easier to manage. Jenna thought the new therapy was working.”
“And then…?” Cal prompted, remembering how Rostislav and Sergei had both said Jenna had gone from being happy and relatively stress-free to becoming anxious and worried.
“It all changed when Jenna broke her arm.”
&n
bsp; Cal thought back to the X-rays showing Jenna’s injuries, including the recent fracture. “How did she break her arm? What happened?”
“She told me she was sparring, but I don’t think so. She made up some story about an unscheduled practice, and she was fooling around and hurt herself by accident. But I could tell something was wrong. Jenna wouldn’t tell me who did it, even though everybody knows everybody. I knew something was off about it.”
“You think Brook broke her arm?” Cal thought about petite, fragile-looking Brook. How could that little porcelain doll be a drug dealer who went around breaking arms?
“Brook told me. Jenna wouldn’t do what she was told, and Brook…twisted her arm until it snapped.”
“I find that hard to believe, given the physical differences between them. What was Brook trying to get her to do?” Cal took a step closer to Randy, crowding him, keeping the pressure on. Randy wanted to get it all off his chest. The false confession of killing Jenna had obviously chafed at him.
“Whatever it was, Jenna wouldn’t do it. Not even when Brook broke her arm. That woke Jenna up to who and what Brook was: a conniving, narcissistic bitch. After that, even while she was still in a cast, Jenna wore her mail shirt all the time. Practicing her knife handling every day. She wouldn’t tell me who she was afraid of. But…I thought I knew, because I know Brook. I have for a long time. She’s way scarier than she looks.”
Cal shook her head slowly, thinking about the M&Ms, and Rostislav—big men who used their muscle at the behest of others. “Maybe she had help, and Brook just gave the orders to break her arm. Were you even there when Jenna was killed? How did Brook convince you to take the blame? How did she know about Alan?”
“People in the community talk. I guess she heard it from the herbalist who supplied me the remedy. Brook figured out what I’d been doing. She threatened to tell Jenna, or turn me in to the cops. She said if I confessed to the shooting, I could claim self-defense. None of us would have to go to jail. What could I do? Jenna was already dead. Brook said if I did it, she’d leave me alone again. Stay out of my life.” Randy swallowed and looked at Cal. “Brook didn’t count on you.”
“And Sergei. The cops might be willing to believe you would pump eight hollowpoints into your girlfriend during a fight, but for those of us who use our brains…”
“Brook killed Jenna,” Randy’s voice roughened, full of grief. “Jenna thought Brook would come after her with a knife. She was nasty with a blade. Liked to show it to people. But Brook was smart. She used my gun. I guess she got the combo to my gun safe from Jenna before things went sour between them. Or she guessed it, tried it out sometime before when she was over. It was Alan’s birthday numbers, day and month.”
“So that night in the apartment...”
“She was trying again to get Jenna to do…whatever it was. Deal big, maybe, or hurt someone else, I’m not sure. Take the next step in her ugly world. Brook got the gun, threatened her. Jenna stabbed Brook, but it wasn’t deep enough to stop her. Brook snapped. She has a temper like you wouldn’t believe, under that angel face.”
“So afterward, Brook used the knife to cut you, to give you a self-defense argument and obscure the blood evidence.”
“She said it was my fault she had to shoot Jenna. All my fault. And she was right. I did everything wrong.” Randy snuffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.
“You didn’t make her kill Jenna, but you’re not without guilt. You’ll have to live with that, and you’ll probably be charged with obstruction of justice. I’ll put in a good word if I can, but you have to come clean.”
“I already told you, didn’t I? I’ll make a statement. Take what’s coming to me.”
“With a lawyer present.”
“Okay. You’re going to put her away? You’re going to make sure Brook gets punished?”
“Yes,” Cal said. “You bet your ass I am.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Cal called Mickey from the rendering plant parking lot. By the time she got to her office, her assistant had tracked down the addresses and phone numbers for Brook’s home and work.
“Why don’t you call Macey and Raymer?” Mickey suggested from his swivel chair. “If you tell them what Roubicek told you…”
“They won’t be able to do anything but question her,” Cal told him. “All we have is Randy’s story. They’ll see this as more meddling and more work for them. And if they don’t move fast and get a warrant, Brook might be able to clean up, hide evidence.”
“If she was stabbed, they can match her DNA to the dagger they found, can’t they?”
“It will take months to get the results back, and it’s probably Randy’s blood anyway, since he and Brook rearranged the crime scene. We need to take Brook down now. She’s a drug dealer, an extortionist, and a murderer. As long as this thing works…” Cal looked down at the miniature voice recorder that Mickey had given her. “All I have to do is get her talking. She’ll let something slip, brag about how she screwed Randy, and we’ll have her. I’ll take it to the police and they’ll have enough to arrest her.”
“That’s not admissible, is it?”
“No, but it’ll convince them to dig up something that is. Getting Macey and Raymer on the right scent is half the battle.”
“What if she doesn’t admit to anything on the recording?”
“She will,” Cal said. “She bragged to Randy about how she conned Jenna, threw it in his face. She’s the kind who has to tell everyone how smart she is to get full satisfaction.”
“Be careful, Cal. You still look like shit, no offense. You’re moving like a ninety-year-old. Take the M&Ms with you.”
“She won’t talk in front of them. She’ll spill if it’s just me. Too many people, and she’ll clam up. I’ve got three firearms and a knife on me.” Cal patted the gun in the concealed holster.
Mickey shook his head, a worried, hangdog look on his pouchy face. “I dunno. You shouldn’t go in there alone. Look what happened at Golden Gate Park. And what happened with Madge. If she’s the one behind all that, she’s dangerous.”
“I’m not underestimating her. I’ll be careful. But she’s just one person.”
“Boss, at least put on your Kevlar.”
Cal was about to object, but Mickey was right. Her lightweight vest had saved her life before, and in the winter, it would be concealable under her windbreaker. “All right. Now get back to work. I want more on Brook and her connections. Who supplied the opium? What did she have to do with Potoczek? Anything.”
She went upstairs to the bathroom with a roll of tape to make sure that the wire to her mike would lay flat and stay in place. It wouldn’t do to get Brook to confess and then end up with the recording ruined.
Then she tried Brook at her work, some kind of marketing consultancy firm. The phone was answered by a perky receptionist who sounded about twelve. She informed Cal that Brook was out today, so Cal hung up and tried her home number. It rang a few times and Cal thought it was going to go through to voicemail when Brook picked up.
Cal made herself sound half bored, half rushed. “Brook? Hey, this is Cal Corwin. I had some more questions for you; do you think we could meet? It would just be for a few minutes. I really want to wrap this thing up and close it out.”
“Cal…?” Brook feigned not remembering, but Cal was sure she did. “Oh, the woman at the Renfaire, right? What’s this all about? I already told you everything I know about poor Jenna.”
“I know. I just had some follow-up questions. I might have a lead, but I need to get right on it or the suspect could get away.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“What?”
“Your questions. What did you want to know?”
“I think we’d better do this in person. Can we meet somewhere close by? Maybe a restaurant?” Cal would have to make sure it was a quiet place, not one of those noisy ones with screeching kids and clattering dishes. She needed the audio to be clear.
“W
hy don’t you just come here?” Brook asked. “You’re in the Mission, right? I’m just up Valencia.”
Cal tried to think of a plausible reason to get Brook out of her apartment. She could hardly argue that it was more convenient for them to meet at a halfway point. “I haven’t eaten yet, and I’d rather—”
“I’ve got a whole kitchen. Bagels, juice, sandwiches, eggs, whatever you like. It will hold you over until you can get a real meal. I’m really busy today, so I’d rather not leave.”
“Okay. Fine.” Cal read off Brook’s address from her notebook. “Is that it?”
“That’s it. See you in a few minutes,” Brook said. She didn’t ask how Cal had gotten her address, and Cal didn’t ask how Brook had known that she was in Mission. Obviously, they had both done a little research.
Mickey’s warning echoed in her head. Going alone to Brook’s lair was the height of folly. This was a woman who’d put eight hollowpoint bullets into her rival, if Randy was telling the truth. She wasn’t going to take kindly to a private investigator prying into her business.
Cal laid her hand on the butt of her pistol. She knew what she was up against. Jenna hadn’t known and thought she would be protected by her chainmail. Kevlar was better.
Insurance was better still. She phoned Rostislav, asked him a favor.
Cal didn’t have to ring to be let in to the apartment building. Brook was waiting for her in the lobby. “Thanks for coming here,” she said. “I really appreciate it. So much to do today. I don’t take time off very often, and then when I do, I overplan, and there’s no way I can get it all done.”
Cal nodded as she looked Brook over. It was odd seeing her in a sweatshirt and jeans like anyone on her day off. Of course, she wasn’t dressed in period costume, though somehow that’s what her mind had expected.
They took the elevator up to Brook’s floor and Cal followed her into her apartment. “So, what can I help you with?” Brook asked, leading her into the kitchen.
The Girl In the Morgue Page 25