“But, haven’t you relied on your job for fodder for your stories so far?”
“Yes, and I’ve given that a lot of thought too. If a good writer can create a story based on anything, I know I can. Women love romance, so if I have love in my life, I’m sure to whip out some great books.”
The fallen look on her friend’s face caused Michelle to pause. “And speaking of love stories, where is your man?”
“Who knows?” Naomi flung her arms up, punctuating her sentiment. “Another medical convention, a meeting of some sort.... I wish he’d resign. I’m about to give up on this relationship.” She wriggled the fingers of her left hand in the air. “See, still no engagement ring, although he calls me his fiancé. I think it’s just a term of endearment he uses when he can’t remember my name.”
“Oh, Naomi, you know better than that. You can’t fault a man because he’s trying to earn a good living for you.”
Michelle sounded far more sincere than she felt. She hadn’t liked Paul from day one, and Nay deserved better treatment than what she got. ‘Sneaky’ described him to a tee, and she didn’t blame her bestie for not trusting him.
“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t fault him for working....” Naomi’s voice cut into Michelle’s thoughts. “I have severe trust issues for good reasons.”
“I don’t understand. Have you caught him cheating on you or something?”
“Oh, let’s talk about something else.” Naomi emptied her glass and held it in the air. “You want another?”
Shell shook her head. “Thanks, but I’d better not. I have to drive home.”
Bothered by her friend’s odd behavior, Michelle wanted to dig deeper. Something must have happened that was too upsetting to discuss, but did want to press the issue, so she stood. “I need to get going. I have to get up early. Are you sure you’re okay?” She paused with her hand on the knob.
“I’m fine. I spend most of my home time alone so I’m used to Paul being gone. Don’t worry about me...oh, and I’m happy you’ve got some perspective in your life. I enjoy you. Call me tomorrow.” She grinned, but sadness filled her eyes. “Oh, and sweet dreams of Tony,” she called, closing the door behind Michelle.
Waiting in the hallway for the click of the lock and hearing it, Michelle started down the carpeted corridor, wondering why Naomi seemed so melancholy. Maybe tomorrow she’d feel more like chatting about what bothered her.
* * *
Michelle sat at her desk, the first to arrive. Her stomach churned in anticipation of seeing Tony since the kiss she forced on him last night. With the vision of them together still fresh in her brain, she didn’t wait long. He strode into the squad room, looking as handsome as ever. The aftershave or cologne he used scented the air with a sedate spicy aroma...the same scent she’d inhaled from her blouse when she undressed for bed. He dropped one eyelid in a telling wink and flashed her a smile.
“Mornin’ sunshine. You been here all night?”
Sure, like he hadn’t been the one to drop her off at home, but she played along for the sake of the few others straggling in. “No, just came in early to see if I could think of a new approach to finding that blasted journal. There’s a chance it might not hold a single clue, but my gut tells me there’s a name in there we need to know.”
“I’m sure, don’t you girls write down everything?”
His response was catty, but if he only knew how close he was to the truth. Did Naomi have a point about Michelle’s ability to write about anything other than crime? The thought worried her brow.
“Hey, why the frown? I was only kidding. My younger sister kept diaries until she got married. I swear if you put them all together, the dang thing was thicker than the dictionary.”
“Yeah, I hear some girls do like to jot down all the exciting things in their life.” She wanted to finish the sentence with an admission about the release of her novel, but she wasn’t ready for her secret identity to be divulged just yet.
Tony draped his jacket on his chair and sat. Leaning on his elbows, he peered across at her, sending her heart a flutter. Right now, she felt just like a schoolgirl who kept a diary. Silly high school crush feelings enveloped her, and she couldn’t act on them. A hollowness loomed inside her...one a young girl would definitely write about, if only to vent.
“So, where do we go from here?”
“Excuse me?” At his question she sat bolt upright.
“I meant following clues.” He looked over both shoulders then back at her. “Calm down, Meesh.” he whispered. “I told you I wasn’t going to say anything.”
She released her pent up breath. “You’re guess is as good as mine about how to find our perpetrator. I’m not so sure our leads will take us anywhere except on a wild goose chase.”
He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “I was thinking maybe we need a new approach. Tell me what you think.” He hunched forward, picked up a pen and hovered it over a notepad. “You’ve got one suspect at the moment, right?”
“Yes. Siamese, one of the strippers.”
“So what would be her motive to off two of her co-workers?”
Michelle rested her arms on her desk. “Well, she’s the oldest, and according to her and the bouncer, she doesn’t make the tips or get equal time on the clock. Getting rid of some of the competition might change that.”
“Do you have proof that she didn’t get along with the others?”
Shaking her head, Michelle reflected back on Louis’ remarks that everyone got along well, and she’d never seen Siamese say or act unkindly towards the other girls. She screwed her mouth to the side. Damn! With every question he asked, her suspicions unraveled a little more.
“So, I take it that’s a no?” Tony didn’t actually smirk, but she heard one in his voice.
She sighed. “It seemed like motive enough at the time, but now that I’ve gotten to know the woman, she’s admitted she only works there because she’s taking care of a pregnant daughter and two grandkids. Doesn’t sound much like a murderer, does she?”
“Haven’t you learned by now that most murderers act like everyone else? Our jobs would be really easy if they all had the same tattoo or wore a telling uniform.” He chuckled.
“I considered the owner, but what reason would he have to kill his own employees, and two of the top earners at that? Sure, he’s got a record but all the crimes he’s committed have been of a non-personal type.”
“So, let’s look at him a little closer. Maybe he had the hots for them and they turned him down...pissed him off and he lost it.”
“I suppose it’s possible, but wouldn’t someone have noticed him coming and going with or without the women? Both victims were killed in their own beds.”
“Maybe we need to go back to square one and question that weasel Bernie...you know, the super at Kitten’s apartment.”
“We have nothing to lose. She shouldered her bag. “Are you ready?”
* * *
Bernie Goldman answered the door, one hand holding a sandwich that he chomped on with vigor. “Yeah...?” His eyes widened with recognition.
“Remember us?” Tony flashed his badge while Michelle stood in the background. She stifled laugher bubbling up at the sight of the stodgy little man.
“Sure, you’re the two cops who were nosing around after Cara Austin’s murder.” He paused and pointed at Michelle. “I definitely won’t ever forget her.” Mayonnaise turned the corners of his mouth white. He took another bite and continued chewing. “Sorry, I’ve already rented her place so if you forgot something, you’re outta luck.”
Michelle turned her gaze to the hand-printed door and wall to avoid watching him speak with food in his mouth. God, he was disgusting in more ways than she could count.
Tony gave the man a little shove, pushing him back inside his apartment. “Mind if we come in? We have a few more questions for you.”
Bernie held up his half-eaten sandwich. “You’re interruptin’ my meal, ‘s
ides, didn’t I tell you I don’t know nothing about my tenants as long as they keep to themselves and pay the rent on time?”
Tony stepped inside. Michelle remained in the doorway while her partner took the lead. “I believe you did say something like that, but I want you to search that pea-brain of yours and make real sure you never saw anyone coming or going with Cara Austin.”
The super slowly shook his head and shrugged. “I...I don’t know...I mighta saw some guy with her a couple of times. I’m a busy man, you know.”
“A guy you say? Are you sure?”
“Yeah...a guy. I can certainly tell the difference between a guy and a dame. You think I’m stupid or something?”
Tony chuckled. “I don’t have time to discuss your IQ, Bernie, just describe him to me.” Tony retrieved a notepad and pen from his breast pocket.
Bernie peered at the ceiling, the image of someone struggling for recollection. “Hmmm, he was tall, had dark hair, and wore a business suit.”
“How tall? What length was his hair?”
Locking gazes with Tony, the super scratched his chin. “A little taller than you...hair cut about your length.”
“Great! That could be almost anyone. Can’t you remember anything distinctive about him?”
Bernie gave another shrug. “Wait...he carried a briefcase and had on some sort of name tag. You know, the kind you get at meetings or conventions.”
“I don’t suppose you saw his name,” Tony pressed.
“Nah, wasn’t my business. He didn’t offer and I didn’t ask.”
Tony turned and smiled at Michelle. “Looks like Mr. Goldman’s memory has improved since our last visit.” He turned back to the super. “So you say you might have seen him more than once?”
“Maybe twice, three times, tops, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t come here more often. I can’t keep track of everyone’s comings and goings.”
Tony nodded. “Understood, but next time someone asks you if you’ve seen someone in the vicinity, might I suggest you take the time and share what you know. If you dummy up, you might find yourself in trouble for withholding evidence.”
Bernie’s eyes widened. “You ain’t gonna arrest me are ya?” He finally swiped the mayonnaise from his mouth, but disregarded the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
“No, I'm not going run you in this time, but let this be a lesson to you.” Tony backed out the door.
“Yes sir. I’ll be more careful next time, sir. You and your friend have a nice day.” Bernie closed the door with a bang, and when the distinct sound of the lock clicked into place, Michelle collapsed into muffled laughter.
Tony put his note pad away and smiled. “I think I scared him, what do you think?”
“You do a great bad ass imitation.” Composed only long enough to choke out a response, Michelle continued laughing at how the super’s disposition had taken a sudden change.
Tony grasped her elbow. “Let’s get back to the office and see if we can put these awesome clues to work for us. There have to be a few guys around who are a little taller than me with the same kind of haircut...but we might have a bigger problem. I doubt any of them are still wearing their name badge.
Chapter Thirteen
In the car on the way back to the station, Michelle replayed the crime in her head...the part she’d witnessed in her vision and the investigation up until today. The blur of passing pedestrians, stores and other cars disappeared with her revelation. “Tony...why would people think Kitten was a lesbian if she kept company with a man?”
He slowed to a crawl then stopped at a red light. “Maybe she wasn’t keeping company with him. Maybe he was a salesman, or her insurance guy. Who knows?”
“But, maybe she just was discreet about her relationships. I never wanted my folks to meet my dates. My father had a bad habit of asking embarrassing questions, and my mother liked to share my baby pictures. The least they knew the better I liked it.
“Okay, so maybe Kitten...uh, Cara, was keeping her love life a secret. Wouldn’t someone know her sexual preferences? You said even the women she worked with thought she was gay.”
“Just because she didn’t pay attention to groping and cat-calling customers? I think she just wanted to do her job and get the hell out of there.”
“Baby pictures, huh? And what kind of questions did your dad ask?” Tony looked at her and winked.
“None of your business Keep your eyes on the road and your mind on the case. If you want to know anything about my sexual preferences, we have to solve these murders.” Michelle relaxed in her seat and tried not to concentrate on the visions she conjured with her ultimatum.
They’d ridden in silence for a while, Michelle still trying to figure out her best friend’s strange mood.
Her peripheral vision caught Tony’s questioning glance at her. “Why so serious? What’s on your mind that’s got you so quiet?”
He didn’t really know Naomi, so the whole point of discussing a stranger with him seemed moot. “Nothing really. I’m just thinking.”
“Oh yeah? I see those little furrows in your brow and know something’s bothering you.”
“Did anyone ever tell you you’re pushy?”
“Several people, but don’t change the subject. What’s got you so distracted?”
“Okay, but don’t blame me if you get bored.” She forced a chuckle. “You remember me talking about my friend Naomi, right?”
“Sure, she’s been your best buddy for years and the person you share a love of white zinfandel with.”
“That’s her. Well, anyhow, I stopped at her place last night and she wasn’t her usual, chipper self. In fact she acted depressed...no actually more disgusted than I’ve ever seen her. I’m worried about her.”
“What was she disgusted about? Did she say?”
“She’s been living with a creep named Paul Hance for a couple of years now and I gather things aren’t going well. Personally, I’ve never liked the man, but I never told her that. About a year ago, he promised her an engagement ring which has yet to materialize, and he’s gone all the time so he’s not much company.”
“Gone all the time where?” Tony made a quick right turn, gravity pushing Michelle against the car door.
She righted herself and bit her tongue. She wasn’t always the smoothest driver either, but she hoped she didn’t give her passengers whiplash. Planting her feet firmly on the floor, she prepared for his next unexpected maneuver. “Paul’s some kind of medical or pharmaceutical rep and his job requires lots of travel. I think Nay might be starting to question how often he’s gone to the conferences and meetings he claims to attend.”
“Hmm, the kind where you get name tags? I know this is a far stretch, but is there any chance your friend’s fiancé might have known Cara Austin? What does he look like?”
“He’s not bad. Maybe your height or a little taller, dark hair and eyes.”
“Sound a little familiar? Does Naomi have a picture of him?”
“I suppose so, but where are you going with this?” She cocked her head, quizzically.
“What say we borrow a snapshot and show it to good ol’ Bernie?”
Michelle clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Oh sure, I’ll just waltz in and tell Nay we need Paul’s picture because we think he murdered a stripper. That should cheer her right up.”
“Maybe you’ll like him better once we prove is isn’t our guy.”
She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. No, I don’t think so. He’s just to creepy.”
“Maybe you could stop by and check on her and...sort of borrow one?”
“You mean steal one? Paul may be a shitty boyfriend, but I think you’re pegging the wrong guy.”
Tony pulled into the station parking lot, killed the engine and shot her a glance. “You got any better ideas?”
She sighed. “No. I’m fresh out.”
“Then go with me on this. We’ve got nothing to lose.”
“You�
�ve got nothing to lose. Me...only a friend I’ve had most of my life, but don’t give that a thought. I’ll just meander in, ask her for a picture, tell her we think her boyfriend might be the killer, and I’m sure she’ll happily hand over what I need. No problem at all.” Her jaw tightened.
“Are we having our first argument?” Tony’s innocent look and smile soothed her.
“No, we’re just having a discussion. Trust me, you’ll know when we’re arguing.”
* * *
Michelle left work and headed for Naomi’s place. She wasn’t specifically planning to stage a heist, rather to put her mind at rest about her friend’s feelings. She parked in the lot, grabbed her purse and keys and waited for the elevator to the third floor. Oh, she hated when the steel doors came together. Their meeting sucked the air from the small compartment, and as usual, she held her breath until she reached her destination. She’d tried the stairs a few times, but the moldy smell and lack of cleanliness in the stairwell convinced her a few seconds of torture was better than risking a petri dish of germs.
Mother told her she always screamed in any type of confining area when she was a child. The plane ride from Arizona had confirmed her suspicious. Once they sealed the cabin, she became well aware of the symptoms of claustrophobia.
She released her pent-up breath as she stepped out into the familiar corridor. Nay’s apartment was at the end, so she ambled down the hallway and knocked on her door. She checked her wristwatch, assuming Naomi should be home by now. The library always closed promptly at 5:00 p.m.
Nay answered, her eyes wide at seeing Michelle. “Well, I sure didn’t expect you this early. In fact, I didn’t expect you at all. C’mon on in.” She opened the door wider.
“I stopped by to check on you. You seemed so upset the other night, I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. Dandy in fact. Paul called and he’s on his way home.”
“Home from where?”
“Albuquerque, or so he says. I have to pick him up at the airport, so I need to slip into something more comfortable. Library codes say we have to wear a dress, but I much prefer jeans. Would you excuse me, while I change?”
A Novel Murder Page 10