Flash Point

by Metsy Hingle

  “What?” Meredith immediately shifted her attention to him. “You mean you saw Kelly, too? When? Where?”

  “Yesterday. I spoke with her about an investigation I’m working on.”

  “But you’re a homicide detective,” Alicia began, then her eyes widened. Her breath hitched. “Is she involved in a murder?”

  “No,” Jack said emphatically. “She’s a witness.”

  “Dear heavens,” his mother said, and made the sign of the cross. “Do you mean to tell me that poor girl actually saw someone get killed?”

  Jack hesitated, unsure how to respond. “Not exactly.”

  “Not exactly?” Meredith repeated from her seat beside him. “Then exactly how is she a witness?”

  “You know I can’t discuss a case. So why don’t we just change the subject? Besides, we’re supposed to be celebrating Mother’s birthday.”

  “Oh, my God,” Meredith said. “She had one of those visions, didn’t she?”

  “Visions?” Alicia asked.

  “What are you talking about, Meredith?” their mother demanded.

  “Back in high school there was this rumor that went around about Kelly, that she could see things that had happened or that were going to happen.”

  “You mean she’s psychic?” Alicia asked, her eyes wide.

  “That’s what I heard. All I know is that Kelly was always a little strange. She had this way of looking at a person and you’d swear she knew exactly what you were thinking. Some of the girls claimed she was a witch.”

  “Knock it off, Meredith,” Jack commanded, irritated to hear his sister speak of Kelly in such a way. He could only imagine what it must have been like for her in school.

  “Your brother’s right,” Mrs. Callaghan said. “You shouldn’t say such things. I’m sure Kelly is a lovely young woman.”

  “I didn’t say she wasn’t. I’m just telling you what some of the girls said about her. Anyway, I never saw her do any weird stuff.”

  Mrs. Callaghan shook her head. “I can’t understand how a fine school like St. Joseph’s would allow such a foolish rumor like that to get started.”

  “I heard it started during our sophomore year,” Meredith said. She sat back, took another sip of her wine. “Supposedly Kelly freaked out one of the teachers, insisting the woman had to hurry home because there had been an accident and her house was on fire with her baby trapped inside.”

  “Dear Lord,” Mrs. Callaghan said.

  “Was it true?” Alicia asked.

  “Supposedly the teacher arrived home and found her mother lying on the floor unconscious. The baby was crying in the next room and there was a fire in the kitchen. It was one of those old restored homes without any smoke detectors. And if the teacher hadn’t arrived when she had, the place would have gone up with both the baby and the grandmother trapped inside.”

  “That’s quite a story,” Margee said.

  “It certainly is. Look, it gave me goose bumps,” Alicia said with a shiver. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “Do you think it’s true? That this Kelly person really can see what’s going to happen?”

  Meredith shrugged.

  “It sounds like a lot of bull, if you ask me,” Alex commented.

  “I don’t recall anyone asking you,” Meredith informed him.

  Ignoring the snipe, Alex fingered the stem of his wineglass. “What do you think, Peter? Both you and Jack met her. You think she’s psychic?”

  “I don’t know. She seemed normal enough to me,” Peter replied.

  “Jack?” Alex prompted.

  How in the devil was he supposed to answer, Jack wondered. Thanks to the large number of so-called psychics who’d set up shop in the city, the term psychic ranked right up there with charlatan. He didn’t know if Kelly was psychic or even if he believed in such things. What he did know is that Kelly Santos had something. Whether that something was ESP or simply good instincts, he wasn’t sure. He did know that she’d been on the mark ten years ago about him and, so far, she’d been dead right on the details about the murder.

  “I knew it,” Meredith said, pouncing upon his silence as an admission. “I was right, wasn’t I? Kelly did have one of those visions, just like I said. That’s why you had to talk to her.”

  “Is Meredith right, Jack?” Alex asked him.

  “I told you, I can’t discuss my cases,” Jack said firmly.

  “Fine, then tell me where she’s staying,” Meredith replied.

  Jack narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

  “I want to pay her a visit while she’s in town.”

  “Why?” Jack repeated.

  “Because she’s an old friend.”

  “Since when?”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake, just tell me where she’s staying,” Meredith demanded.

  “She’s at the Regent,” Peter supplied.

  “Thank you, Peter,” she said sweetly. “Goodness, would you look at that roast,” she exclaimed as Edward carried in a platter of sliced beef with all the trimmings, effectively ending all talk of Kelly Santos and the murder investigation. “Doesn’t it look absolutely delicious?”

  The roast was delicious, along with the rest of the meal, a tribute to Tilly’s skill in the kitchen. And more than an hour later after finishing the meal, they gathered around to sing happy birthday.

  “Happy birthday to you…” Meredith started them in song as seventy candles burned atop a three-tiered cake decorated with butter-cream icing and edible pink roses.

  “…Happy birthday to you,” they finished in unison.

  “Make a wish, Mother, and then blow out the candles,” Meredith instructed.

  “Oh my, look at all those candles. So many,” she said, catching Jack’s hand as he stood beside her chair. “Jackson, I think you’d better get the fire extinguisher ready. I’m not sure I can do this.”

  “Sure you can,” he told her, giving her fingers a squeeze. “We’ll help you.”

  But his mother needed little help. She managed to blow out most of the candles on her own and earned herself a round of applause. “Thank you. Thank you all,” she said. “Edward, would you tell Tilly that I want to serve the cake with coffee in the den. And I’d like it if the two of you would join us.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Edward said. He removed the cake from the table and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

  Peter eased her chair back and helped her to her feet.

  “Thank you, dear. Why don’t we all move to the den.”

  As everyone headed out of the room, Jack fell back a step. He caught his sister’s arm. “What are you up to, Meredith?”

  She batted her green eyes. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I mean, why the sudden interest in Kelly Santos? And don’t tell me it’s because she’s an old friend. We both know that’s not true.”

  “Well if you must know, I’m going to ask her to shoot some ads for Indulgences.”

  Jack frowned. “I thought Bobby Hillmann had already done the ads.”

  “He’s done most of them.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re not happy with them. You said Hillmann was the best in the city—that’s why you went with him.”

  “He is the best—in New Orleans—and his ads are…okay. But Kelly’s worked in New York, California, Europe. She’s photographed campaigns for some of the biggest fashion publications in the business. I’ve seen her work, Jack. She’s good. Better than good. She’s fantastic. Even that noncommercial stuff she’s done is light-years ahead of anything Hillmann can do. If I can convince her to do some targeted advertising shots, it could make the difference in whether Indulgences succeeds or not.” She paused, looked up at him out of serious eyes. “I know everyone thinks I’m just an airhead who doesn’t know what she wants and keeps flitting from one thing to the next. And maybe I have been. But this time is different. I want to make this work. I need her to help me, Jack. I need this shop to be a success.”

  Jack tucked a strand of hair behind Mered
ith’s ear. “Then it’ll be a success,” he assured her.

  “You really believe that? Or do you think Mother and Alex are right, that I’ll just get bored and drop it like I did the modeling and acting, and take off again?”

  “Merry, I think you can succeed at anything you set your mind to. If you want this shop to work, then it will work. But you don’t need Kelly Santos or anyone else to make that happen. Only you can do that.”

  She kissed his cheek. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, big brother,” she said with a smile. “I hope that means I can count on you to come in and drop a bundle when the place opens.”

  Jack arched his brow. “I thought this was supposed to be a women’s store.”

  “It is,” she said, a sassy twinkle in her eyes. “But since Christmas isn’t that far away, surely you can think of at least one deserving female you’ll want to pick up a little something special for.”

  “You mean Alicia?”

  She punched his arm. “I meant me. Or Mother.”

  Laughter from the other room drifted to them. “We’d better get in there before they send out a search party for us.”

  “You think Mother would notice if I slipped out? I really need to go.”

  “You know she would.” Curious, he asked, “Where is it you have to go?”

  “To see Kelly. Indulgences opens its doors in just a few weeks. If I’m going to talk her into doing those ads, I need to get busy.”

  “Meredith,” Jack began with a sigh. “You said yourself that Kelly’s a hotshot photographer now. She’s probably heading back to New York soon.”

  “All the more reason for me to go see her now and convince her to stay. Be a dear and tell Mother I wasn’t feeling well and had to leave?”

  “Forget it. Besides, the chance of Kelly agreeing to this scheme of yours is slim to none. And as persuasive as you can be, little sister, I don’t think even you would be able to get Kelly to change her mind.”

  Meredith smiled at him. “Watch me.”

  Seven

  “Callaghan, where are you and Jerevicious on the Gilbert case?” Big Mike asked.

  “We’re still working on it, Captain,” Jack informed him as they gathered in the station’s squad room. And they were getting nowhere fast, he added silently. “So far we haven’t been able to turn up any credible witnesses.”

  “What about the weapon?”

  “No sign of one yet,” Jack said.

  “Damn. You know this doesn’t look good for the city—particularly when we’ve got a big medical convention going on in town.”

  “I’m aware of that, sir, and we’re doing everything we can to find the killer,” Jack told him.

  “Then I suggest you work faster, because the mayor’s been all over my ass about the bad press.”

  “Yes, sir. In the meantime, we’ve checked with the convention authorities, and this Dr. Gilbert wasn’t among the registered attendees.”

  “According to the medical association, Gilbert had his license revoked nearly five years ago,” Leon added.

  “Then what in the hell was he doing in New Orleans? And why did he have to go and get himself knocked off in our city?” the captain demanded.

  “We’re trying to find that out now, sir,” Jack advised him. “So far all we know is that he was divorced, no kids. We weren’t able to find any listing for his ex-wife under the last name Gilbert or her maiden name. He does have a sister who lives in Pascagoula, Mississippi, whom we haven’t been able to reach yet. We’re hoping that when we do, she can tell us what he was doing here or give us some leads as to who might have killed him.”

  “I thought this was a robbery-turned-homicide.”

  “The jury’s still out on that, sir,” Jack told him.

  The captain swore. “You got evidence saying something different?”

  “Not yet, sir. Just a gut feeling,” Jack confessed.

  “Maybe you’re psychic, Callaghan,” Nuccio remarked, earning a few chuckles in the squad room.

  “Very funny, Nuccio,” the captain said dryly. There wasn’t even a trace of a smile on the man’s round face. He stared hard at Jack. “What about that woman who came into the station…the one that Russo was ranting about?”

  “Kelly Santos,” Jack supplied.

  “You checked her out yet?”

  “Yes, sir,” Jack replied. “She wasn’t able to tell us anything more than what she’d already told Sarge.”

  “You buy her story about having some kind of vision?”

  Jack hesitated, aware of the other eyes and ears taking in the exchange. “She did know details that no one else could have known about the murder.”

  “Except the killer,” Leon pointed out.

  The captain shifted his gaze from him to Leon and back again, probably already picking up on the fact that he and his partner were at odds on this one. “If she was the killer, I doubt that she’d come in, report she’d seen the murder and give us all the details,” Jack reasoned. “Why make herself a suspect?”

  “Could be to throw us off,” the captain offered.

  “Kelly’s not the killer.”

  The captain eyed Jack closely. “This woman a friend of yours, Callaghan?”

  Jack cursed himself silently. “Not really, sir. She went to school with my sister, and I met her once or twice a long time ago.”

  “You should have said something sooner. I wouldn’t have assigned you to this case if I’d known there was any problem.”

  “I wasn’t sure it was the same woman,” Jack told him, which was the truth. “Before Leon and I went to question her I hadn’t set eyes on her in more than ten years. And since there is no relationship between us, I don’t believe there is a problem with me being on this case, sir.”

  “All right,” the captain said after a long pause. “Make sure it doesn’t get in the way of you solving this case.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jack told him. And he meant to do just that. He had no intention of letting his personal feelings where Kelly Santos was concerned—whatever those feelings were—get in the way of him finding Dr. Martin Gilbert’s killer.

  The captain gave him a curt nod. “In the meantime, I want you and Jerevicious to check out the woman’s story, make sure she has no ties to the vic. If she is innocent, then I want you to find out who is responsible for the man’s death and arrest that person. And I want it done quickly. The last thing we need is another open homicide on the books—particularly when the victim is a doctor. Do I make myself clear, Detectives?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Yes, sir,” Leon echoed.

  After going over the remaining assignments, they were dismissed. Jack immediately returned to his desk. When he spied Nuccio headed toward him, he picked up the phone, punched in the number for the crime-scene unit and turned his chair so that his back was to the other man.

  “Dickerson,” the phone was answered on the other end.

  “This is Callaghan in Homicide. You guys finished going over the car that came in on the Gilbert case?”

  “We’re still working on it, Detective,” the weary-sounding tech informed him. “Check back with me this afternoon and I’ll let you know what we’ve got.”

  “Thanks.” Jack hung up the phone and found Nuccio standing in front of his desk, doing his damned best to read, upside down, the file he had open on his desk. Jack slammed the folder closed. “Something you want, Nuccio?”

  “Thought you’d like to know that me and a couple of the guys—we got us a little bet going about this case you’re working on.”

  “I suppose that’s a step up from betting on how many cockroaches you can find in your desk because of all the leftover crap you keep in there. But the truth is I’m not interested. So why don’t you get lost. I’ve got work to do.”

  Nuccio’s mouth tightened. There was hatred in his eyes as he said, “Don’t be such a dick head, Callaghan. Aren’t you the least bit curious about our bet?”

  “No.”

  Nu
ccio leaned closer, lowered his voice a fraction, but it was obvious others were listening. “Being the nice guy I am, I’m going to tell you, anyway. We’re making bets on how long it’ll take you to solve this Gilbert case. And I’m saying it’ll depend on whether or not you call on your lady psychic friend for help, because you and that washed-up ballplayer partner of yours couldn’t find shit on your own.”

  Laughter erupted around him. Ignoring them, Jack stood and grabbed his jacket. “You know, Nuccio, for once you actually have a good idea. Thanks.” Leaving a suspicious-looking Nuccio standing there, he walked over to Leon’s desk. “I’ll be back in about an hour.”

  “Let me get back to you,” Leon said to whomever was on the other end of the phone, and dropped the receiver on its cradle. “Where you headed?”

  “To pay Kelly Santos a visit.”

  Leon frowned. “All right. But I’m going with you.”

  “I can handle this one on my own. In the meantime, maybe you can get on to those lab guys.”

  “The lab guys can wait,” Leon told him, and snatched up his own jacket. “We’re a team, Callaghan. We work together,” he reminded him, and together they walked toward the exit. Once they were outside in the parking lot, Leon snapped, “Man, what is with you? Didn’t you hear what the captain said in there?”

  “I heard him. He wants us to find the shooter and close this case. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

  Leon shot him that steely look that had given more than one defensive tackle pause during the big man’s football career. “I’m talking about you and this Santos woman. The captain already thinks you might have a conflict of interest where she’s concerned and here you are running off to see her again.”

  “She’s the only lead we’ve got. I’m just going to ask her some more questions, see if maybe she can help us,” Jack hedged, and headed for his car.

  “And you think that’s a smart move?”

  Jack looked at his friend from over the roof of his car. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jack countered.