“That’s as warm and fuzzy as I get, Wainwright.”
“But you mean it? You really, really like me?” I said, sniffling as I dramatically clutched my hands to my heart.
She held up both hands. “Okay, don’t get carried away.”
“Trust me, I’m not,” I said sardonically.
She laughed and we walked out of the living room into my workroom. I needed a break from the crime scene and she seemed willing to hang out with me.
“You and me,” she said, leaning one hip against my desk. “We’re sort of in the same boat.”
I jumped up and sat in one of my work chairs. “How do you figure?”
She shrugged. “Well, first and most obviously, we’re both foxy.”
“Foxy?” I laughed and she grinned. Guess she was going for a laugh, so I played along. “That’s so true. We do have that much in common.”
“Yeah,” she said, “and we both seem to find ourselves around dead bodies a lot.”
“Also true.” I observed her for a moment and realized she looked a little uncomfortable. Interesting. So I said, “You know, we have so much in common, we should probably try to get along. You know. Be friends, maybe.”
She shrugged. “Only seems right.”
“Okay.” I held out my hand and she reached over and shook it. Her hand was cool and calloused. Friendly.
“Friends,” she said with a satisfied nod.
I found the delivery invoice on my workroom desk and took it to Inspector Jaglom, who was still sitting in the kitchen. He stared at the slip, then dialed the number for Worldwide Shipping and Delivery Service. He read off the invoice number to the dispatcher, who had no record of the delivery.
After a few minutes of wrangling with the woman, Inspector Jaglom asked me to describe the driver. I gave him as precise a description as possible, and Derek added a few details. Jaglom repeated the information into the phone.
The dispatcher recognized the man in question and put the inspector on hold while she tracked the guy down.
It was at least ten minutes before the dispatcher came back on the line. I spent the time making more coffee for the cops and arranging another plate of a dozen cookies to put out. They were devoured within minutes.
“Yeah?” Jaglom said abruptly, then pulled out his notepad and began to write furiously. “I see.”
Inspector Lee frowned as though she could read her partner’s facial expressions.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jaglom said. “We’ll have a patrol unit there immediately. Right. Thanks for your assistance.” He hung up the phone.
“They found the guy?” I asked.
“Yeah.” His mouth was tight as he digested what he’d heard. Then he looked at me. “The good news is, they tracked him down. The bad news is, he’s dead.”
I was stunned into silence for a long moment. Finally I asked, “How did he die?”
Lee’s reaction was a quick scowl; then she relaxed her features. I guess I was interfering with the investigation, but since she didn’t smack me upside the head, I took it as a small victory.
“They found him with a plastic bag over his head,” Jaglom said. “He suffocated to death.”
I cringed. There was no good way to die, but that seemed like a particularly bad one.
While Jaglom called for a patrol car to go to the delivery company, Derek and I spoke quietly and reached a decision. As soon as Jaglom was off the phone, Derek revealed that Max was alive and completely innocent. He explained about the harassment Max had endured three years earlier and the circumstances behind his staged death. The detective trusted Derek completely, but that didn’t mean he was about to pass on interrogating Max. So I led Jaglom to Max’s room, where he spent almost an hour interviewing my friend. When Max and Jaglom walked out to the kitchen, the relief on Max’s face brought tears to my eyes.
A few minutes later, I took Lee and Jaglom over to Sergio’s place, where I hung out while the cops spent another forty-five minutes interviewing my neighbors. Given everything they’d been through today, I wondered if any of them would ever speak to me again. But they all hugged me and assured me they would, so at least I had that.
On our way across the hall to my place, I asked the inspectors if they’d made any headway on Joe’s murder.
They exchanged glances; then Jaglom said, “Our lead suspect just showed up in a box.”
I winced at that, then opened my front door in time to see the medical examiner leave. He and his assistant were steering a gurney that held the body of Angelica wrapped in a thick black plastic bag.
Another assistant followed, wheeling a dolly that supported the crate that had contained her body. I couldn’t suppress a shudder as it passed by me.
Back in the kitchen, Lee looked around. “Have we talked to everyone now?”
I thought for a moment. “Everyone but Minka.”
Lee gasped and her face turned into a mask of terror. “LaBoeuf? She was here?”
I bit back a laugh. “It’s a long story, but yes. You might say she crashed the party.”
Jaglom saw Lee’s expression and laughed. “I’ve interviewed her twice before during our last two investigations. It’s your turn, Janice.”
“No freaking way,” Lee muttered darkly as they both packed up their notepads. I walked them out of my place and down to the freight elevator.
Jaglom was still laughing. “She’s a nice girl once you get to know her.”
Lee snorted. “She’s a rabid dog.”
Jaglom laughed and turned to me. “We’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks,” I said. I thought I heard Inspector Lee growling as I walked back to my place.
Minutes after I got inside and locked the door, my telephone rang with two quick rings, then nothing. It was the doorbell. Again.
“I’m afraid to answer it,” I said, flashing Derek an apprehensive look. But I picked up the phone anyway and said hello.
“Hey, babe.”
Gabriel. My stomach relaxed and I buzzed him in. He bypassed the slow freight elevator and took the stairs and arrived at my door in a minute flat.
I couldn’t bear to sit in the living room where Angelica’s body had lain for the past three hours (memo to self: grab some of Mom’s cleansing white sage to purify and chase away the dead-body vibes in my living room), so we moved into my workroom and sat at the high table. I’d taught private classes in my home, so there were four comfortable high chairs. If someone else showed up, they would have to stand. I doubted that would be a problem.
I served hors d’oeuvres: more cookies, plus the last of some Brie I had in the fridge and half a bag of potato chips. Wine for me, beer for the guys. Nobody complained.
We amused Gabriel with the horrific story of the body in the box, plus the murdered delivery guy.
“Sorry I missed the fun,” Gabriel said with black humor.
I gave him a dark look, but conceded, “This means that Solomon is a sure bet for Joe Taylor’s murderer.”
“Not necessarily,” Derek said.
Max leaned his elbows on the table, looking puzzled. “Who else could’ve done it?”
“Angelica,” Derek said cryptically as he swirled his wine.
“Meow.” I glanced down and saw Clyde staring up at me. He’d spent the day hiding in Max’s room and I couldn’t blame him.
“Do you want to come up?” I asked.
“Meow.”
I figured that meant yes, so I pushed my chair back from the table a few inches. He crouched, then jumped up onto my lap in one amazingly smooth move. He took his time getting comfy, staring up at me, rubbing his face against my chest. Then he circled around and wiggled a little until he found just the right spot, and plopped himself down.
“I love this cat.”
“And he loves you,” Max said easily.
I gazed down at my fuzzy friend and stroked his pretty orange fur. “You don’t understand. Cats don’t like me.”
“Where’d you get that idea?” he s
aid, and leaned over to scratch Clyde’s neck.
From every other cat I’ve ever known, I thought grimly, but didn’t say. Instead, I glanced across at Derek. “You still think Angelica could’ve killed Joe?”
“Yes.”
“But why? And what do you think happened afterward? Did she and Solomon have a falling-out and he killed her?”
“Yes,” Max said.
Derek nodded. “It’s the most likely scenario.”
“A lover’s spat,” Gabriel mused.
Max’s face soured in disgust. “Those two would stop at nothing to destroy everyone else. Why not destroy each other?”
“Poetic justice?” I said.
“Works for me,” Gabriel said, grabbing a handful of chips.
“But it could just as likely be Solomon who killed Joe,” Derek conceded.
“We need to talk to him,” I said.
“There’s no we here,” Derek said testily. “You’re going to stay as far away from him as possible.”
I rolled my eyes, looked around the table, and palmed another cookie. “So what do we do right now?”
“I’m going to get another beer,” Max answered. “Anyone else?” There were no takers, so Max strolled out to the kitchen.
Someone knocked on my front door and I flinched, disturbing the cat enough that he turned and grunted at me and his claws came out. If I nudged him off, would he ever speak to me again? Could I live with that?
“I’ll get the door, darling,” Derek said, already halfway there. “Don’t disturb your new friend.”
“Clyde thanks you,” I said, smiling gratefully. “It’s probably one of the neighbors wanting to commiserate.”
Derek glanced through the peephole and gave me a look. “It’s a woman I don’t recognize.”
“As long as it’s not Minka, go ahead and open it.”
“I hate to disrupt the cat,” he said, “but I’d rather you confirm that you know her first.”
“Okay.” I gently nudged Clyde off my lap and walked over to the door, where I squinted through the peephole at the woman waiting in the hall.
My jaw dropped to the ground and my heart stuttered in my chest. But I managed to recover enough to whisper, “Emily?”
Chapter 21
“One of your neighbors let me into the building,” Emily explained, clutching her hands together nervously. “I hope that’s okay.”
“That’s…wonderful.” Taking Emily’s arm, I led her into the apartment. “Come in, please. Wow. How are you? It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said, hesitating just inside the doorway. “Sorry to just drop in.”
“It’s no problem.”
She took a moment to gaze around my workroom, and I could see her eyes focusing on the many shelves and rows and rows of threads and tools and papers and map drawers. “Nice space.”
“Thanks. Oh, Emily.” I grabbed her in a hug. “I’m so glad to see you.”
Glad she was alive. Glad she hadn’t been hurt, and just glad in general. Of course, this opened a whole new world of uh-ohs, too. Max was here. In the house. Emily thought he was dead. And I wouldn’t have the chance to warn either one of them before they saw each other, so…uh-oh.
“Yeah, me, too,” she said, hugging me tightly. “It’s been too long.” After a moment, she stepped back and ran a nervous hand through her long brown hair. She hadn’t changed much, except that she’d grown her hair longer and had gotten even prettier than she’d been three years ago. More elegant somehow, and calmer.
“Look,” she said, folding her hands as she spoke, “I’m sorry I didn’t return your phone calls. I wanted to, but I was visiting my parents, who are staying in Cleveland for a few months. My dad’s sick. He’s at the Cleveland Clinic and…well, you don’t need to know the details. Anyway, I just flew into SFO and didn’t feel like driving straight home. So I thought that as long as I was in town, I’d take a chance and stop by. I hope you don’t mind, but I Googled you and got your business address. Anyway, here I am-and, God, I’m talking too much.”
“No, you’re not,” I said, laughing. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad. But I’m so happy to see you. I’m blown away that you came by.”
I glanced over at Derek and saw the What do we do about this? look on his face, and I answered with a shrug. One glance at Gabriel’s smile told me he was enjoying the drama of the situation. I was willing to bet that Max wouldn’t.
“What’s going on, Brooklyn?” she asked. “Your messages made it sound urgent.”
“Yeah, it is. But first, I hope everything’s okay with your dad.” I knew the Cleveland Clinic’s reputation for working medical miracles-sometimes.
“Thanks,” she said. “I do, too. I’m going back there next week, but I had to take care of some things at home.”
“Well, we can go into the living room, I guess.” No way to avoid the death cooties from Angelica’s body now, and I couldn’t keep Emily standing in the workroom. Now it was my turn to be nervous.
“Okay.” But she stopped and smiled at Gabriel and Derek. “Hello.”
“Hi there,” Gabriel said with a grin.
Derek nodded. “Hello.”
“Sorry. My manners went missing,” I said. “These are friends of mine. This is Derek Stone and that’s Gabriel.”
“Hi,” she said again, and went back to clutching her hands together. “Well. You look really good, Brooklyn.”
“Oh, thanks. So do you.” This was ridiculous. I had to give her some kind of hint about why I’d been calling. It wasn’t fair to just spring Max on her. She was young, but a shock like that could bring on a sudden heart attack. God, why hadn’t she called me first? “Look, Emily, I don’t how to-”
“Found more chips,” Max said as he walked back into the room, shaking the bag. He stopped abruptly and stared, gaping at the woman. “Emily?”
I heard a long gasp, then a moan. I was just in time to catch her on her way to the floor.
“Emily!” Max cried out, and ran over. I moved out of the way as he took her from me. He knelt down and laid her out on the floor, slipping his hand under her head and pressing his other hand to her cheek. “Oh, my God, Emily. Emily.”
Shoot! This was awful! I should have found a way to warn her. But was there really any way to prepare her for seeing her dead boyfriend all hale and hearty? Watching the expression on Max’s face, hearing the desperation in his voice, I had to blink to clear my tear-filled eyes. I’d been doing that a lot lately.
Derek closed the front door and, to be safe, knelt down to check her wrist for a pulse. “She’s fine. Just a bit of a shock, I’m guessing.”
“Just a bit,” I said dryly. He stood and grinned and wrapped his arm around my waist.
“Max,” I said softly. “You scared the hell out of her.”
“She scared the hell out of me, too,” he said, looking up and scowling mildly. “Probably took ten years off my life. Why didn’t you warn me?”
“How could I warn you? She just showed up here! I didn’t know she was coming. Besides, if I were going to warn anybody, it would’ve been her. You already knew you were alive.”
He shook his head and looked back at Emily, moved his hand over her shoulder and her hair, barely touching her in case he might hurt her. All the while he whispered over and over, “So beautiful. Still so beautiful.”
“She’s waking up,” I murmured. “Maybe you should get her off the floor.”
I watched Emily blink a few times, then focus on Max’s face. She groaned. “No. I’m dreaming.”
“Oh, sweetheart, no. You’re not dreaming.”
She silently began to cry.
“Please,” he said, burying his face in the crook of his elbow. “Please don’t cry.”
“Max, pick her up,” I whispered. But he seemed frozen in place, unable to take action. Derek squeezed my waist and I looked up at him. He tilted his head toward the living room, indicating we should leave them alone.
; Is he kidding? I shook my head and he frowned at me. But come on. Seriously? Maybe it was nosy of me, but there was no way I was leaving the two of them alone. I wanted a front-row seat, wanted to savor every last second of their tearful reunion. I’m just a big sap that way.
As her tears began to dry, Emily hiccupped a few times, then swallowed awkwardly. Glancing around, she took a deep breath and let it out, then said, “Help me up, please?”
Max immediately slipped his arms under her and stood with her still in his clutches.
“You can put me down now,” she said.
“No, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m never letting you go again.”
“Like you did before? Let me go, I mean.” Emily just stared at him, her expression unreadable.
“I didn’t want to.”
“But why, Max? You died. And now you’re here? What happened? Where did you go? Why did you leave me?” She sniffled and seemed to lose strength. Her eyes closed.
“Bring her into the living room, Max,” Derek suggested. “She can lie down on the couch.”
“And then you can try to explain what happened,” I said to Max.
He gave me a foreboding look, then whisked his fair Emily off to the living room.
Gabriel’s grin grew even wider. “Guess I’ll have that beer, after all.”
When Emily had revived, there were hugs and more tears and kisses. Her smile seemed permanently fixed to her face, and, frankly, I was sort of amazed at how well this reunion was going. If my boyfriend had disappeared on me, then popped up again seemingly from the grave three or six or eight years later, I’m pretty sure I would have been furious first and then maybe I’d think about being happy to see him again. Emily was clearly a much better person than I. Finally she sat up, asked for a glass of water, then went off to use the bathroom.
I went into the kitchen to get her water and carried it back to the living room. I set the glass on the coffee table and sat back down.
Max, meanwhile, had begun to pace the floor. “Is she all right? She’s been gone too long.”
“Chill out,” I said. “She’s been crying, so she’s washing her face and fixing her hair. Give her a minute.”
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