“Cheap shot,” Landers said, stepping toward the door. “No one asked you to go in there.”
“What would have happened if I hadn’t?” I shouldered past Kyle into the condo, taking in the tasteful postmodern lines of the black, white, and gray color scheme.
Kyle knew me well enough to hear the danger in my tone, and took a step backward.
Aaron chose that moment to step out of the bathroom at the end of the hall, still drying his hands on a paper towel.
“Hey, Nichelle.”
His eyes were unsurprised, his lips turning up at the corners.
“Did you tip her off?” Landers rounded on him, and Aaron shook his head.
“No,” I said, before Landers could lose what he still had left of his temper.
“I know her.” Aaron tried to swallow a laugh. It didn’t work. “I told you telling Sam I wasn’t giving interviews wouldn’t do anything but piss her off. Didn’t I?”
“You told the desk sergeant to stonewall Nichelle?” Kyle laughed too.
I tried unsuccessfully to keep a straight face. Percival yipped, and I scratched his ears, everyone laughing harder the more Landers sputtered.
“You’re a good detective, Chris, but you do have a few things left to learn from us old timers,” Aaron said, catching his breath.
Landers sighed and threw up his hands. “Like what? That you just let the press run all over a crime scene because they’re stubborn?”
“I don’t see gloves or booties on any of you,” I said coolly, setting Percy on the brushed silk sofa, then thinking better of it and moving him to the rug. Which probably cost more than the sofa. Whatever. “So forensics isn’t coming back. Which means you’re looking for something fingerprints aren’t going to compromise.” Like research notes?
I bit down on the words that might have tipped my hand. Until Landers stopped being so stubborn, I wasn’t sharing anything. Let him run his own investigation, if he thought he was so much smarter than me. We were probably following the same trail, but maybe not.
“What do you know?” Kyle studied my face carefully, and I tried to let it go blank.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Agent Miller.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “You’re here for a reason, and it’s not because you want to know who the vic was, because White says you already have the name.”
“I want to know what’s going on with the case.”
“I call bullshit,” Aaron said. “There’s dogged, and then there’s snooping. You only snoop when you think you have a moral reason to. What’s up?”
My mom’s bright blue eyes flashed through my thoughts, and my stomach wrung. I knew maybe better than anyone how crazy the whole thing sounded: a cure for cancer? No way. But what if? What if my mom got sick again and the key to keeping her alive was in this building and I walked out and left it because Landers didn’t like me?
Nope. He was going to have to deal. I scooted toward the marble-topped desk in the corner, wondering if I had a chance at getting a look inside it.
“Unless you’re going to read me some Miranda rights, I don’t think you get to question me,” I said, resting one hip on the edge of the desk and adding an aloof edge to the words.
“You want us to tell you things we don’t want to share,” Aaron said.
“But you’re not doing it,” I countered.
“Touché,” Kyle said.
Landers still loitered in the doorway to what I assumed was the bedroom, pouting.
“I’ll answer one for you if you’ll answer one for me,” Aaron said.
“White.” Landers’s head snapped up, a warning edge in the word that would’ve sliced through a tin can.
I tipped my head to one side, my eyes on Aaron. If he wasn’t going to pay Landers any mind, neither would I.
“On the record?”
“I can’t do that right now and you know it.”
I nodded. One question. Better make it a good one, because Aaron wouldn’t have offered without an ace up his sleeve.
A hundred queries spun through my head, all of them clamoring to be first. Who was their prime suspect? Was Maynard running a drug trial off the books? Was he seeing Mrs. Eason?
I considered each in turn for a full three minutes. I could still possibly find the answers to most of it on my own, and there were a couple of questions in there I wasn’t sure these guys could answer. But there was one thing I couldn’t get anywhere else. And it would save me a lot of work to have Aaron answer it. “Unnamed PD source?”
“Depends on what you want to know.”
“White.” Landers was quieter, but no less pissed.
Aaron kept right on ignoring him.
“The standard background on these people.” I waved at the building in general. “Did it turn up anything that set off alarm bells for you?” I crossed my fingers behind my back, not breaking my lock on Aaron’s gaze even when Percy scratched at my ankle. Hopefully his bladder wasn’t full.
“Unnamed official source.” Aaron stressed the second word.
I nodded, reaching for a pen and notebook. Andrews would have to shut up for at least a couple more days.
“We’re still sorting through some things,” he said. “You know the woman down the hall had a husband die last Christmas.”
I nodded. “But she wasn’t arrested.”
“Not enough evidence isn’t the same as nothing wrong,” Aaron said. “Just so I’m telling the whole truth.”
I scribbled that down. Not that I could name her—or anyone else—as a suspect, but maybe something they’d found would click into my puzzle.
“Any other doctors in the building?”
“One, but she has an alibi and swears she didn’t know Maynard. Two white collar convicts who run different companies.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really, now?”
Aaron nodded. “We’re holding one for questioning.”
That I could print. Score.
“What does he do?”
“Divisional VP at Evaris.” Aaron nodded when my eyebrows shot up. Evaris was a drug company. A large one.
“Can I get a name?”
“Alan Shannon.”
I scribbled, and Aaron kept talking. “The daytime doorman is retired military, and he swears this guy isn’t the type. But the woman—the one down the hall who used to work for you guys—she says the doc seemed afraid of something. We’re trying to find out what.”
I got every word before I looked up. “Thanks, Aaron.”
“Don’t make me regret it.”
I nodded.
“How’s the rest of the investigation coming?”
“Slow,” Kyle said, before Landers cut him off with a razor-sharp “Aaron said one question.”
I rolled my eyes and Kyle shrugged. “It’s true. I talked to Bonnie this morning. She says people are dragging their feet on purpose, but she doesn’t know why.”
Huh. I scribbled, biting down on a smile. Bonnie was the forensic biologist at the coroner’s office who thought Kyle was cute. Good for him.
“Why would they do that? Shouldn’t it be just the opposite? This guy was a genius, and a big shot in the community. I can’t even find anyone in my own newsroom who didn’t think he was some sort of god. Or just shy of it.”
“We are painfully aware of that, I assure you.” Landers sighed and folded his long frame onto the sofa. Percival trotted over and nudged his outstretched hand. I softened a millimeter. Dogs are good judges of character. Though to be fair, Percy’s frame of reference was pretty skewed to the asshat side of things.
“Everyone from the Chief to the goddamned Governor is on our asses wanting this wrapped up.” Aaron tossed me a pointed glance. “Quietly. I get more presse
d every hour to bring in your grieving gunman and call it a day. He was there with a gun when Miss Whitmire was shot. Hell, he’d even been here, asking to see the doc. Might as well put a Christmas bow on his head.”
“Isn’t that just a smidgen too easy?”
“Why do you think we’re here? No stone unturned.” Aaron picked up a magazine and shook it, then flipped through the pages.
“I think the Governor might have called in a favor,” Kyle said, spreading his hands in a why-am-I-here gesture.
“Someone actually assigned you to this?” My inner Lois Lane sat up and took notes. Kyle was a hotshot SuperCop. A federal one. Why would the federal government give a rat’s ass about a dead doctor? “Random murder cases aren’t ATF jurisdiction.”
“Care to tell us something we don’t know?” Landers was still snippy, but at least he was talking. And that snippiness was probably directed at whichever ATF commander had decided the local cops needed Kyle on this case. I shot him a sympathetic nod. I know how it feels when the national news folks descend on one of my bigger stories.
“Hey, man, I didn’t ask for this.” The tension in Kyle’s voice told me I was on the money.
“We know that,” Aaron said, the congenial manner that made him the RPD’s king of confessions (and usually kept him locked behind a desk) sending Kyle and Landers back to a simmer.
I nodded to Aaron. “So what are you doing here? They usually keep you pretty close to the office.”
“This damned flu epidemic has a third of our detective squad out.” He shrugged.
And if they had him in the field, the PIO was unavailable for comment. Two birds, one convenient, logical stone.
“Give me a break, Aaron.”
“We are. You wouldn’t still be here otherwise.” Landers.
“Please. The only reason I’m still standing here is because you guys want to know if I know something you don’t.”
Aaron grinned. That ace he had lurking was about to fly. “Speaking of: what’s the number one thing you don’t want Charlie to know?”
“Nicely played, sir. No one else gets any of this until we’ve run it?”
Aaron exchanged glances with Landers and Kyle and they nodded agreement.
“Ellinger wanted Maynard to see his wife.”
I scanned their faces, quickly, and found myself delighted we weren’t playing poker.
I couldn’t read a thing, except the curiosity in the lines around Kyle’s eyes. It was the same look he got when I let him get to second base in the back of my old Mustang a million years ago—his eyes crinkled like that, he tried for third, and I sat up and took him home.
I kept my gaze on him, wondering if he was going to try another fast one here.
“We figured that, from your article and what we’ve heard about Ellinger,” Aaron said. “There are twenty places that could go, which is why we’re still looking.”
I nodded.
Kyle cleared his throat. “But Ellinger is still on the hook for the dead woman at the hospital.”
I tried to mimic the poker faces.
Mine sucks.
“What are you not saying?” Kyle kept his voice neutral, but I heard the effort it took under the simple words.
“I said one question, Agent.”
Aaron chuckled, and Landers muttered a word that would get my mouth washed out with soap to this day. Kyle didn’t even blink.
I waited a beat. “Ellinger swears he only fired one shot. I heard two.”
Kyle just nodded. “That’s a little out there, even for you.”
“I’m not saying he’s right. I kind of think he’s not, which is why I haven’t paid it much mind. But you guys are making me wonder.”
I glanced around the tastefully modern condo, the open floor plan and breathtaking views lovely, but nothing in sight that revealed one clue about the man who’d lived in the space.
What were they looking for?
My eyes fell on the desk, and a bottom drawer that was still slightly open.
From the size and the tabs I could see through the crack, it was a file drawer.
I turned back to the guys, usually among my favorite people to work with. The look they exchanged screamed that I couldn’t trust any one of them.
I collected Percival from the rug and smiled. “Do me a favor and have a look at Ellinger’s rifle? I’d like to know if it was loaded when they processed it into the evidence locker.”
Aaron nodded, his face curious and apologetic at the same time. “I’ll see what I can do. This is complicated, Nichelle.”
“The good ones always are.” That came from Kyle, with a weird look I didn’t want to try to read.
“Let me know if Bonnie comes up with anything. Off the record,” I said.
He walked me to the door, then stepped into the hallway and pulled it shut behind him. “We need to talk. Not here, though.” He jerked his head backward.
“Name a time and place.”
“Can I come by your house tonight? As soon as I wrap up here, though I have no idea when that might be.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”
I patted his shoulder and carried Percy to the elevator, wondering what kind of penalty dognapping carries in Virginia.
“You learning how to talk yet, bud?” Jeff scratched the dog’s ears when I stopped at the door and I laughed.
“If I could manage that, I could quit my job. The TV shooting schedule would preclude working.” I winked.
“You seem like the kind of lady who can make the impossible possible,” he said. “Just wondering.”
I shook my head and patted the dog. “So are you keeping him?” he asked. “She said she just couldn’t handle him anymore. I’d take the little guy, but I don’t need the responsibility right now.”
I froze, Percy’s slight weight warm on my arm. Visions of shelter pens danced through my head. I couldn’t give him back to Jeff if he had nowhere to go.
But where did I have for him to go? Darcy was a princess—she wouldn’t take kindly to competition in our house.
“She just left him here?” I scratched Percy’s ears.
Jeff nodded, scooping up the dog’s toys and blanket and handing them over.
I turned for the car, my brain racing through everyone I knew. Bob wasn’t home enough to have a dog. Parker? Mel was allergic. Jenna would kill me—she liked having Darcy over for playdates, but didn’t need anything else to feed and care for.
I settled Percy in the back with his stuff. “We’ll find someone who will love you, bud,” I said.
He chewed his designer bone, unconcerned.
Turning into the Telegraph’s garage, I spotted Eunice’s forest green Subaru station wagon.
Eunice, who’d lost her beloved Terrier, Combat, over Labor Day.
I love it when the universe gift wraps answers.
19.
Ultimatums
Eunice’s eyes popped wider than a Texas summer sky when I poked Percy’s face around the edge of her office door. He yipped and immediately started wriggling.
Not fond of the notion of dog pee all over my favorite new pants, I set him down and prepared to run for paper towels. But instead of lifting his leg, Percival darted for Eunice, bouncing at her feet and whining.
She scooped him up, and he set about licking her face. Jeff’s words floated through my head.
“I hear he’s never that affectionate with anyone,” I echoed, smiling when my friend squeezed the dog to her ample chest and grinned at me.
“He’s too cute for color TV, Nicey,” she said, her voice warmer than I’d ever heard it.
“He needs a good home.”
She froze, tightening her arms around the dog and staring slack-jawed at me. “Re
ally?”
“His former owner needs a new fashion accessory, and I thought you might be ready for some company.”
She nodded, closing her eyes and bending her head to Percival’s. “Would you like to come home with me?”
He licked her nose.
“I’d say that’s a yes. It’s even Friday, so you can get him situated over the weekend.” I grinned. I’d never seen Eunice look sadder than the day Combat died. I’d rarely seen her look this happy, either.
“I just sent the Sunday front to production.” Eunice tucked Percy under one arm and closed her laptop. “Let’s go home, little guy.” She stood and turned to me. “What’s his name?”
“She called him Percival.”
Eunice wrinkled her nose. “Stuffy. But whatever.” She scratched his chest and picked up her coral Land’s End tote. “He’ll be spoiled enough for it to suit him, anyhow. I cooked for Combat every night.”
Eunice was a champion southern chef. “Really? Can I come home with you too?” I asked.
“Darlin’, I’ll cook you whatever you want for a month. I wonder how many recipes I can find calling for white chocolate.”
“I’ll take some white chocolate chip banana bread and a batch of armadillo eggs, and we’ll call it even.” I stepped back to let them out and scratched Percy’s ears, handing Eunice his paraphernalia. “You two take care of each other.”
She shuffled toward the elevator, talking to the dog and humming, and I turned for my desk, ridiculously pleased with myself.
Now if I could just figure out this story. What had Aaron said? Mrs. Eason. He was looking at her, too.
Time to call Mrs. Kochanski.
I dialed the San Francisco number I’d found for the Kochanskis that morning, and tapped a finger on the desk as it rang. Had I lost my mind, calling Bob’s old friends to ask about a once-upon-a-time mistress? Those kinds of wounds don’t always heal completely with time.
But what if Elizabeth Eason really had killed Maynard? And maybe her husband, too? These folks would know her and how she operated.
Just when I was about to give up, a breathless, “Hello?”
Cover Shot (A Headlines in High Heels Mystery Book 5) Page 16