“Wedding and engagement. A big rock.”
“I wonder what the husband was doing while the wife was out getting herself killed,” Norelli muttered.
I didn’t comment. I doubted the husband was involved. Not unless he was somehow connected to Sebastian Cole. The idea that Cole had escaped a trunk in the river and the Martin woman hadn’t escaped a trunk if a different kind seemed too sweet a coincidence, and I didn’t believe in coincidences.
One of the uniformed officers approached. “Hey, Norelli, I ran the plates. Registered to one Joseph Martin. Here’s the address.” He handed the detective a slip of paper.
Norelli nodded. “I’ll follow up, inform him of his wife’s death.” When the uniform didn’t move off, he asked “Something else?”
“It’s just weird is all.”
“What exactly.”
“That the victim drowned in the river. In a trunk.”
Norelli spread his hands, as if waiting for the punch line.
My gut roiled. Here it came.
“You know that Sebastian guy?” the uniform said. “The escape artist?”
“What about him?”
“He pulled an escape tonight. From a trunk—the luggage kind, but a trunk—in the Chicago River.”
“You don’t say.”
“Honest. I heard about it on the radio.”
“Huh. An escape and a drowning, both in the river and on the same night.”
“Weird coincidence,” the officer said.
“Yeah, probably,” I said, “but it wouldn’t hurt to check it out.”
Okay, so I needed to tell Norelli that Silke worked for Sebastian without seeming like I’d set out to trick him. Norelli might be an idiot at times, but he wasn’t stupid. I decided diving right in and laying my cards on the table while the information was hot was better than letting the truth leak out later. I didn’t want him to think I was trying to hide the truth just in case I needed to be evasive later.
“Hey, Norelli, another weird coincidence…” I took a big breath and added, “I was at Sebastian’s escape event tonight.”
Norelli frowned. “So you saw this Sebastian in person.”
“Actually, I met him.”
He gave me another of those looks that didn’t bode well for me. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with why you wanted in on this case.”
I took a big breath. “My sister, Silke, works for him.”
“So you were playing me.”
“No! I don’t know that there’s a connection any more than you do. It’s just been a really weird night, starting with Casey Brogan.”
“Who the hell is Casey Brogan?”
“A wannabe informant who stopped me on my way to the parking lot.”
“He had information about the murder?”
“Nothing concrete. He was all touchy-feely, said he saw someone in a trunk in the water—”
“Saw?”
“As in psychic vision. I put it to the full moon. Then I went to see Sebastian’s performance and got a little uptight when that trunk went into the river. But no one died.”
“Only now someone did.”
“But Brogan didn’t know enough for me to take him seriously. C’mon, Norelli.”
“All right. But you coulda told me all this right off.”
“So you’d look at me like I was crazy?”
“Who said you aren’t?”
I took a relieved breath at the insult. The crisis was over. Apparently I’d passed inspection by laying out the truth. “So where do you want me to start?”
“With Sebastian. Get an address on him so we can see what he has to say about the similarity between his act and Julie Martin’s death.”
The Martin woman, in a body bag now, was being carried to the ambulance.
“I’m going to pay the husband a visit,” Norelli announced. “And then I’m going to talk to the medical examiner. You can meet me at the morgue. Then we can see what this Sebastian has to say together.”
“Assuming I can get a fix on where to find him.”
“You want on this case, get it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Norelli nodded and stalked off toward his vehicle, stopping to talk to the sergeant in charge of the crime scene.
I pulled out my cell and called Silke, but my sister didn’t pick up, so I left a message. I tried calling her place, but she didn’t answer there, either. Another message. She must still be clubbing with the uncongenial Oriel.
Not having any other way of getting a bead on the man, I decided to go home, take that shower and put on some clean clothes. Three days of working on a homicide and I was a long way from being fresh as a daisy or any other flower. My clothes could probably stand up by themselves.
About to leave the scene, I spotted someone hanging back by the line of trees along the riverbank. Dressed in black pants and a long-sleeved shirt, he watched the goings on, trying to make himself invisible. The thing was…I got itchy watching him. Surreptitiously moving closer, I felt the sensation increase. The guy looked familiar. I was almost on him before he realized my presence. As he turned, moonlight played over caramel-colored skin and eyes flat of expression.
He looked just like Snake Eyes.
“Hey, I want to talk to you,” I said, flashing my star.
He took a step out of the trees as if he were going to comply…and then whipped around and ran down a path toward the river.
I was right behind him. “Stop! Police!” My voice echoed off the water. When he didn’t slow, I yelled, “I need backup!”
Then I heard other raised voices behind me. Backup, I hoped.
“This way!” I ran faster.
Ahead, Snake Eyes was scrambling. When nearly caught up to him, I took a leap of faith. Literally. I flew at him, rammed him from behind. The bank was muddy and slanted down toward the river. His feet slipped and we both went down hard.
Cursing, he slid out from under me and tried to kick me. I caught his leg and twisted. He rolled with the motion and freed himself. I rolled, too, caught him by the ankle and jerked. Down he went again, while I got to my feet.
I pulled my gun. “Hands where I can see them,” I gasped, out of breath.
He whipped his hand up, all right, but it wasn’t empty and it went straight for my head. I saw the tree limb coming too late.
Stars flashed through my mind…and then everything went dark.
Chapter Six
“Hey, you okay?”
Groaning, I opened my eyes only to close them against a bright light. “Hey, would you please get that flashlight out of my face?”
“Well, you’re alive.”
Groaning again, I muttered, “Barely.” I should have stayed out a bit longer and gotten some of that much-needed rest. “I take it the bastard got away.”
“No one here but you, ma’am.”
Ma’am. At thirty, I wasn’t old enough to be a ma’am. I got to my feet. The process used to be easier. Faster. Maybe I was getting too old to chase probable offenders.
“Did you see which way he went?”
“I didn’t see anyone but you as you went down for the count.”
“The guy I was chasing hit me in the head.”
“Sorry. Didn’t see him.”
I got the feeling the officer was having trouble believing me. I looked around, swept my gaze along the riverbank. Nothing moved other than a beaver sliding into the water a few yards away.
It was as if Snake Eyes had…well, vanished.
“Want me to call for paramedics?”
Moving back the way I’d come, I looked through the trees and realized the ambulance was gone. I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
Not that I was. My head thundered and the rest of me didn’t feel too good, either. I really, really needed a shower and a bed and one of Jake’s special massages. I was determined to at least get the first.
Thanking the officer for coming after me, I made for my car. I decided to sit for a few minutes to
make sure I wasn’t concussed. I checked my eyes in the rearview mirror. Both pupils looked even.
I tried Silke’s cell. No response. None at her home, either.
Then I called the CPD to find out what happened to the gang members arrested at Sebastian’s event.
“They never made it in,” I was told.
“They escaped?” Not that it was exactly a surprise having come up against Snake Eyes myself. “How?”
“We don’t know. The officers are getting checked out. They both said the same thing—they had an overpowering sleepy feeling. And the next thing they knew, they woke up with the paddy wagon in the middle of the street. The back was empty and the door had been opened like someone had a key.”
An unlikely thought entered my mind only for a brief second.
Or like magic.
Chapter Seven
That Snake Eyes had something to do with the murder seemed pretty cut and dried.
What wasn’t clear was why. Lots of whys.
Why had he been at the riverfront to witness Sebastian’s escape? Why had he used a similar method to copycat the event so quickly? And why Julie Martin?
The victim didn’t look like she had anything in common with the gang member. If he even was a gang member. That had been my assumption based on the outfits the guys had worn. Could they have been costumes? Part of the performance? Had Sebastian hired them to rob him and then, after they were caught, found a way to free them?
Again, why?
So many questions, so little time.
I hopped on the expressway and headed for home. A bit of a speed freak, I hot-footed the accelerator and opened up the Camaro. The love of speed was my biggest vice. If I got stopped by a state patrolman, I would merely flash my star and explain that I was on a case. Which I was. Nice to have a legitimate excuse to push the limit.
I tried Silke’s cell again, and when she didn’t answer, called her at home. The clock in my dash told me it was nearly one. Late but not late enough to expect someone out clubbing to give up the ghost.
As a last resort, I tried our personal communication system. I concentrated my thoughts and used psychic airwaves to jolt my sister into responding, but Silke still didn’t answer. Weird. Either she was ignoring me or she was otherwise occupied.
What could she be doing that she found more important than letting me in?
Maybe knowing would be too much information…
Once off the expressway, I slowed to legal speed. It took only a few minutes to get to my building, park, climb to the second floor and stumble down the hallway toward my apartment. I rented a one bedroom in a condo conversion. In my mind, the joy of home ownership was overrated. I liked the idea of someone else having to take care of any problems, though since I’d moved in I’d had none.
All night my adrenaline had been up and down like a roller coaster. As I unlocked my front door, I’d hit bottom. No cats came to greet me.
Alarmed, I called, “Sarge? Cadet?”
No meow.
A cold lump settled in my stomach as I went on alert. The cats always greeted me. Always. That they were no shows meant they were hiding.
From what?
Rather, from whom?
My pulse rushed a shot of speed through me as I wondered if Snake Eyes somehow knew where I lived.
Drawing my gun from its holster for the third time that night, I held my breath and listened intently for any sound. Nothing. Two steps inside the apartment and the door slammed behind me.
I whirled but before I could get off a shot, the intruder knocked my arm to the side and relieved me of my gun.
“And here I thought you would be glad to see me.”
“Jake!”
Before I could tell him off for scaring me, he shoved me against the door and covered my mouth with his. I melted against him and my exhaustion vanished as parts of my body that had been neglected for days—or was it weeks?—awoke as if an alarm had gone off. I ran my hands through his hair, my fingers brushing the earring in his right ear. A black diamond. He stroked my breast with one hand and dipped the other inside the waistband of my pants, and my head went light. Heat surged between my thighs before he even touched me there.
One little part of my mind wanted to let go, to let Jake do me as only he could, but I didn’t have time to let him have his way with me tonight. Jake had become well-versed in Tantric sex before we’d ever met, and believe me, he was a marathon man in bed. Or out.
Hmm, maybe I could get some shut eye while he did me?
Even as I was imagining one inventive position of which I was particularly fond, crawling skin at the back of my neck was followed by a buzzing in my brain.
Great. Two hours of trying to connect with my twin and Silke chose this moment to respond.
Horrified that she might be eavesdropping on my extracurricular activity, I shoved my hands between us, pushed at Jake’s chest and tore my mouth free.
“Silke,” I gasped.
Use my land phone. I shouted at her over our psychic airwaves.
Groaning, Jake collapsed around me even as the phone rang.
“Sorry.” I wiggled out from under his arm. Hot from the contact, I tore off my jacket and tossed it on the couch. “I have to talk to her.”
“Of course you do.”
I gave him my best I’m sorry expression as I picked up the phone. And then I focused on Silke. “What took you so long to get back to me?”
“I had my cell off.” Her words were nearly swallowed by blaring hip-hop music.
“Your brain too?” I asked, referring to the psychic link.
“I knew you were calling me. I got back to you as soon as it was…convenient.” Silke punctuated the statement with a giggle.
“Have you been drinking?”
“Of course I’ve been drinking. I’m at a club. I’ve been dancing, too, with Sebastian until he left.” Silke sighed. “So what’s so important that you couldn’t wait until morning?”
“A murder. The victim drowned. In the Chicago River.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Silke gasped. I could hear her take a big breath before asking, “What does that have to do with me?”
“The woman was tied up in a trunk like Sebastian was. A car trunk, but you get the similarity.”
“Not really.”
“Silke, this is not the time to be in denial.” Or dense. “The car was driven into the river in the last couple of hours, sometime after Sebastian escaped his trunk. Only the Martin woman didn’t escape hers.”
“Well, it’s a little weird but I still don’t see why you think it’s all connected. Sebastian would never hurt anyone!”
Surprised that she was defending her new employer so vehemently, I wondered if Silke had feelings for him. I told her about Casey Brogan and how I’d thought the supposed banshee’s warning was connected to Sebastian. “Surely you can see why I have to check this out. By the way, the victim’s name is Julie Martin.”
“Sorry, it doesn’t ring any bells for me.”
“Maybe it will for Sebastian, but I have to be able to talk to him to find out.”
“I’m sure he would want to help.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind giving me his phone number or address.”
“I wouldn’t mind if I had them.”
She didn’t have contact information for her employer? “How do you call him?”
“He calls me.”
“And you don’t know where he lives?”
“Someplace in Humboldt Park.”
Wow, that narrowed it down to a couple of square miles. “What about a studio?”
“What studio?”
“Where does he keep his props? Let me guess—you don’t have the address. What about rehearsals?”
“Tonight was the first time I worked for him, Shell.” Annoyance laced Silke’s voice. “When I met him at a coffee shop, he told me what I had to do and said I needed to improvise and to follow Oriel’s lead.”
She’d interviewed
for a job in a coffee shop rather than in an office? Why was I not surprised?
“Oriel…” I said, grabbing on to the name. “Are you still with her?”
“Yeah, she’s on the dance floor.”
“See if she has Sebastian’s address or phone number and get back to me.”
When I hung up, I realized Jake was holding my jacket to his face as if smelling it. I stared for a moment, my stomach twirling. Undoubtedly his sour expression came from the scent of riverbank all over my clothes.
“Something wrong?”
He dropped the jacket on the couch. “You tell me.”
For a moment I stood mesmerized by the beauty of the man—all six feet of him, athletically built, with dark hair and smoldering good looks. Even the fine scar cutting through the beard stubble on his left cheek turned me on. And then I told my hormones to go on hold for a little while longer.
“Of course something’s wrong. A woman has been murdered. But that’s not what I meant.”
“This Sebastian… I’ve heard of him. Was he as good as his publicity would indicate?”
“Better.”
Jake’s eyebrows arched. “Really. In what way?”
If I didn’t know better, I would think he was jealous. “Listen, I need to take a shower, and now while Silke’s trying to get me that information seems like the right time.”
I headed into the bedroom where I got clean underwear, tan slacks and a white cotton shirt. I looked under the bed right into Sarge’s wide, slightly panicked eyes. Cadet was directly behind Sarge, as if using him for protection. She meowed pitifully.
“Come on. You guys know Jake. It’s okay. He won’t eat you or anything.”
But I wasn’t very convincing, because both cats stayed put. I wasn’t sure if their reluctance came from having so little contact with men before Jake…or if they sensed he wasn’t quite all human. Sighing, I got to my feet. Jake leaned against the doorway, watching me intently. His expression was hungry. And not for food.
Heading for the bathroom, I said, “If Silke calls back before I’m out, would you write down the address for me?”
“I would rather give you more personal attention. I could get you really clean.”
Hot Trick (A Detective Shelley Caldwell Novel) Page 4