by Cheryl Crane
“Can I help you?” asked a man in his late twenties with shaggy, dark hair and a mustache. He was wearing khaki pants and a matching shirt and carrying a black bag of garbage. “Everyone’s gone home for the day.”
“Mr. Ramirez’s office staff gone, too?”
He spun the garbage bag and tied it with a twisty-tie. He reminded Nikki a little of Johnny Depp. “Just me and the dust bunnies.”
“Ah.” She smiled the smile. “So, you provide custodial services?”
He smirked. “I’m the janitor. But it’s not a bad job. Pays good and I pretty much work on my own. I do three buildings on this street. Five till one. As long as I do my job, my boss stays off my case.”
Nikki took a step toward him. “Do you work weekends?”
“Just Saturday.”
“Every Saturday?” she asked.
“Every Saturday.”
“Do . . . do people here in the building work on weekends?”
“They work all kinds of crazy hours. I like it better when they don’t.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I’m kind of a loner.”
“What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t,” he said slyly. Then, “Teddy. Teddy Cruz.”
“Nikki Harper.” She offered her hand and he dropped the bag of garbage to shake it.
“So why are you snooping around here, Nikki Harper?”
“Snooping?” she asked, surprised by his forthrightness. “I wasn’t snooping.”
“I saw you when you pulled into the parking lot. You walked up and down the street, then all the way around the building. You checked out the cars in the parking lot and you spent a couple of minutes checking out the directory. You didn’t need to ask about Mr. Ramirez’s staff. You already knew the place was empty.”
She half-smiled. “Maybe I was snooping, Teddy. Well, not so much snooping, as . . . having a look around. Were you working three weekends ago on a Saturday night?”
“I work every Saturday night, five to one. I told you that.” He looked her over more closely. “You a cop?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. P.I.?”
“Sort of.” She spun her finger. “So back to that Saturday night. It was October second.”
“I’ll take your word on it.”
“Was Mr. Ramirez working?”
“He works a lot of nights,” he said, an odd tone in his voice. “He’s got a lot of different assistants, if you know what I mean.” He winked.
Nikki lifted a brow. If it worked for Victoria, it could work for her. “Was Mr. Ramirez, um, working that night?”
“Did his wife send you? Did she, like, hire you to follow her husband? Catch him cheating on her so she can divorce him and take him to the cleaners in the settlement? That’s why I’m never getting married. Not that I have anything for anyone to take from me at the cleaners.” He chuckled at his own joke. “My girlfriend keeps talking about getting married. But no way.”
“I wasn’t hired by Mrs. Ramirez. But this is important, Teddy. Do you know if Ramirez was working that night?”
He pushed the trash bag with the toe of his brown work boot. “Mmm. Don’t know. His car wasn’t here.” He shrugged again.
“But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t. Sometimes he parks down the street and walks over.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I guess so if his wife sends a P.I. after him, it won’t be so obvious that he’s dicking around.”
She nodded. “So . . . you don’t know if he was working that night.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Can’t remember or don’t want to say?”
He gave her a shy smile. “Can’t say. That Saturday night, I was kind of . . . off the job for a while.”
“Off the job?”
He brushed his hair out of his eyes. “You don’t work for Teeter, do you?”
“Teeter?”
“Mr. Teeter, my boss.”
She shook her head. “I don’t work for anyone. Well, I do. I’m a real estate broker; I’m doing this for a friend. A friend who’s in trouble.”
“She one of Mr. Ramirez’s assistants?”
Nikki laughed. It wasn’t probable, but it was certainly possible. “No. Not that I know of.” She moved her bag to her other shoulder. “So that night. Did you . . . leave? Is that why you’re not sure if Mr. Ramirez was in the building?”
“I didn’t exactly leave,” he said sheepishly. “See . . . my girlfriend and I got in this big fight Friday night. It was over something stupid, but she threw my crap out in the hallway of our apartment building. Then she tweeted all her friends and told them what a jerk I was. I cut out and spent the night with a buddy. Came to work Saturday and she stopped by. Apologized. Begged me to come home.” Another sheepish grin.
“Did you and your girlfriend maybe go off for a while?” she asked.
The grin grew more sheepish. “We were in the car.”
“Ah.” A good reason not to be peeking into parked cars, she supposed.
“But Mr. Ramirez might have been here because there was a car leaving when I got out of my girlfriend’s car. And it wasn’t Mr. Ramirez’s.”
“What kind of car?”
He thought for a minute. “A white Benz. Nice. It went tearing out of here.”
“A white Benz? You’re sure?” she asked, her heart skipping a beat.
“No. Wait. The car that burned rubber out of the parking lot was a BMW. The Benz was parked. Later, after I went back to work, I remember looking out the window and noticing it was gone, too.”
“You saw a BMW speeding away?” Nikki asked. “What color was it?”
He thought for a moment. “Blue. Three hundred series, I think. The little one.”
A blue BMW. Tiffany had a blue BMW . . .
Nikki looked up at the janitor. She was already trying to decide what her next move would be. She needed to talk to Thompson, and Rob, and maybe Edith’s staff again. And the car attendant at the airport. “Thanks a lot, Teddy. You’ve been a big help.”
She walked out of the lobby into the parking lot. But first things first. Tiffany.
Nikki was waiting for her when she walked out of Barney’s Beanery at the end of her shift. When Tiffany spotted Nikki getting out of the car, Nikki thought for a minute that the girl was going to run. Instead, Tiffany walked, deflated, shoulders sagging, to Nikki’s car.
“Tiffany, after you went to the party that Saturday night, did you go to Alex Ramirez’s office?”
“What?” She grimaced. “No. Wheye would Ah go tuh his office? Ah don’ even know where it is.”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you. Were you having relations with Ramirez?”
The girl looked at Nikki as if she’d asked if the girl had cooties. “You mean sex? Ewww. No.”
“Did you follow Rex there, then? Argue with him?”
She opened her eyes wide. “No! No, Ah deid not. Ah already tol’ you exac’ly what Ah done.”
“But you lied to me before, Tiffany,” Nikki pointed out. “What if you’re lying to me now?”
“Ah’m not. This is dif-rent.” She walked to her own car.
Nikki followed her. “Tiffany, someone saw your car that Saturday night in Ramirez’s parking lot. They also saw Rex’s rental car there. They saw you speed away.”
“They deid not because Ah wasn’t there.” She thrust her key into the lock of her car door. “Ah swear Ah wasn’t.”
“Then why would someone say you were?” Nikki put her hand on the girl’s arm.
Tears ran down Tiffany’s cheeks. “Ah wasn’ there. Ah swear it. Ah left Reyx’s house and Ah went straight home and Ah hade cupa-noodles fur din-ner and Ah changed my kitty’s litter box.” She sniffed and turned big eyed to look at Nikki. “Ya think someone’s tryin’ tuh frame me?”
Nikki scowled. She didn’t know who or what to believe anymore. “Why would they?”
Tiffany squared her shoulders. “Ah do
n’t know. But ya said yer friend didn’ kill Reyx but he was found deid in her apartment. If someone might be tryin’ tuh frame her, maybe he’s doin’ the same thin’ tuh me.”
What if Tiffany was right?
Nikki was still standing in the parking lot when Tiffany drove away in her beat-up car, smoke belching from the tailpipe. From the sound of the engine, the car was on its last legs. Could Tiffany burn rubber if she tried?
As Tiffany drove away in a cloud of blue smoke, it occurred to Nikki that she hadn’t brought Thompson’s name up to her again. In the back of her mind, she was still wondering if there was some connection between Tiffany and Thompson.
Maybe it was time to just ask him.
Chapter 24
Nikki knew that Edith knew that she’d come for more than a signature on the mold inspection report for the house. Nikki also knew that Edith knew that, for now at least, Edith’s secret about knowing that Rex was alive and her argument with him was safe. It was Edith’s fear that Nikki would go to the police implicating both her and Thompson as suspects that most likely motivated her to invite Nikki over.
Over the phone, Nikki had suggested that Thompson be available. When Nikki was escorted poolside at twelve-thirty on Wednesday, sure enough, Thompson was there. In nothing but a pair of swim shorts and surfer-boy sunglasses.
Nikki wondered if this was supposed to be some form of bribery. I’ll let you see my hunky boyfriend, nearly naked, if you won’t squeal on me. The thought amused Nikki, but she was smart enough not to bring it up. Especially since, from where she was standing, the offer might be tempting.
“Something to drink, Nikki?” Edith asked. She was lying on a chaise lounge, in a bright blue bikini, in all her fiftysomething lumpy-bumpy glory. A big straw hat and sunglasses shaded her face.
Probably catching Nikki trying hard not to look surprised, Edith waved her over to a chair beside her. “I hope you’re not offended by my state of undress. You already know all my deepest, darkest secrets. I couldn’t feel any more exposed than I already do, so what would be the point of covering up?”
Nikki smiled. She had to give Edith credit; she was a tough, resilient woman. And brave. Nikki admired her. She admired her so much that she prayed the questions she had for her and Thompson wouldn’t lead to a call to the police. Because if—when—Nikki found Rex’s killer, she was going to call Detective Lutz and hand over all the information she’d gleaned over the last three weeks. She’d never wanted to do the police’s job. She just wanted to make sure it was done right.
“I’m not offended in the least.” Nikki smiled, taking a seat in the comfy chair and setting her briefcase beside her.
Thompson rolled onto his side and propped his head up with one hand. Tanned and cut, with pecs to make a girl’s heart go pitter-pat, Nikki had to force herself to look out over the glistening blue water of the pool.
“I’m glad you came, Nikki,” Thompson said in that sexy manvoice of his.
“You are?” She glanced back, trying to keep her gaze off his muscular chest.
He was sort of smiling, which worried her. She hadn’t told anyone but Stanley and Oliver where she was going. What if Edith and Thompson had killed Rex? What if they intended to kill her? Heaven only knew whose bed she’d wind up in.
“Thompson,” Edith said, her tone a warning.
He reached out and took her hand and brought it to his lips. It was so sweet. So sincere.
“No, Edie, you need to let me speak.” He sat up, letting go of her hand. “I can’t stand the idea that someone might think you could have killed a man.” He looked at Nikki. “Edith never could have killed Rex; if she could have, she’d have done it years ago. But I could have.”
Nikki had a million questions on the tip of her tongue, but she realized from the look on Thompson’s face that she needed to keep her mouth shut and just listen.
“That day I walked into Edith’s bedroom, the day of the party, when I saw Rex walking out, I swear to God I could have strangled him.” He clenched his hands into fists. “I wanted to go after him, but Edie stopped me.”
“I insisted I’d handle Rex myself. I didn’t want Thompson involved in any way. I had handled it,” Edith said firmly.
“But you and Thompson argued?” Nikki asked.
Edith nodded. “After Rex left, Thompson and I did have an argument. It was probably the first argument we’ve ever had. Certainly the worst. He wanted to go to the police. I just wanted to let Rex go and be done with him. Forever. I wanted to get on with my life. Is that so terrible?”
“Not so terrible,” Nikki murmured.
“And it should have been over and done with, after that,” Edith went on, bitterly. “But then Rex got himself killed. What an idiot. I don’t know who did it, but I still think it was one of those hussies he was always sleeping with.”
Nikki glanced at Thompson, trying to figure out the best way to question him. She didn’t want to just ask him where he went Saturday night, if it wasn’t to kill Rex. She decided to work backward. Part of the key to the case was how Rex’s body had gotten in Jessica’s bed. What if Tiffany had killed Rex and then Thompson had cleaned the mess up for her?
“Okay.” Nikki folded her hands on her lap. “Rex was killed Saturday night. Where, we don’t know yet, but I have an idea. I found his rental car. Well, I didn’t find it, but I tracked it down. And I know where it was seen Saturday night around the time he was killed.”
“You’re kidding,” Edith murmured.
Nikki looked past Edith, to Thompson. “You didn’t go to your casting calls that Monday. Why? I need the truth. And I have to confess to you, I already know that you put your condo up for sale and requested a passport.”
“We’ve been talking for months about selling his condo,” Edith interjected. “Ever since you sold this monstrosity.” She hesitated, then looked at Thompson. “But why didn’t you make those casting calls, dear? Where were you all day?”
Nikki kept her gaze fixed on Thompson. He looked at Nikki, then slowly turned his attention to Edith. She couldn’t read his face. Was he afraid? Apologetic?
“I had some things to do. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise, Edith.”
“The surprise?” Edith asked, obviously uncomfortable.
Nikki hoped it wasn’t a dead Rex.
“I . . . put some stuff in storage, you know, to clean up the condo. We’d been talking about me doing that, Edie. I can account for every minute. I talked to plenty of people that day. And I . . . I went shopping.”
“Shopping?” Edith said it aloud; Nikki just mouthed it.
“The surprise isn’t ready,” he said, almost sounding like a kid.
“What surprise, Thompson?” Edith asked, a tremor in her voice.
He exhaled and hung his head. “I didn’t want to tell you this way.”
She sounded scared now. “Tell me what?”
Nikki held her breath.
He raised his head. “Tell you that I love you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth. “And that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t care about Rex. I don’t care about my career. All that matters is you, Edie. I was so sorry about our fight. I wanted to make it up to you. I was at Cartier’s that Monday.”
To Nikki’s shock, he pulled off his sunglasses and went down on one knee on the patio. He took Edith’s hand. “So, will you marry me, Edith? Will you be my wife?”
Edith gasped.
Nikki gasped.
“M . . . marry you?” Edith asked shakily.
“I wasn’t even sure, the day I bought the ring, how we could marry legally. With Rex still alive and all. Then, he really was dead.” He took a deep breath. “I wasn’t going to ask you until I had the ring. It’s being sized. I pick it up Friday. We have reservations at Spago.”
Edith took her hand from Thompson’s and stroked his cheek. “You bought me an engagement ring?”
“That Monday. I felt so bad about our argument. I’d already made up my mind to
ask you. I just decided that weekend that it was time.” He looked down at his bare foot, and then up again, still on his knee. “So will you, Edie? Will you marry me?”
Edith threw her arms around him and Nikki turned away as they kissed. This was her cue to leave. But she couldn’t. Not yet.
“I still have some questions, Thompson,” she said, after giving them a moment.
He sat on the chaise next to Edith, his arm around her.
Nikki tried to mentally tick off all the unanswered questions concerning him. “The passport?”
“I wanted to take Edie on a honeymoon. To Greece. Rex never took her on a honeymoon and she’s always wanted to go to Greece. But I didn’t have a passport and sometimes they take forever to get these days. So I figured I better apply. I didn’t know how soon she would want to get married. If she said yes.”
They kissed.
“Okay, so where did you go Saturday night when you left the party?”
“He had to go back to his condo,” Edith explained. “There was a kitchen fire in one of the condos on his floor. He had to check his place for smoke damage.”
“There was no fire in the condo,” Nikki said. She’d been in his condo. She’d spoken to his broker; he’d never said a word about a fire in the building. It wasn’t something you told clients, but brokers exchanged that sort of information amongst themselves, for gossip’s sake, if nothing more.
Edith looked up at Thompson.
“And then there’s the problem with where you go on Thursdays,” Nikki continued. She felt like a jerk for ruining Edith’s special moment. But these things had to be said. Thompson had to account for his whereabouts in order to be removed from her list of suspects. If Thompson had a dark side, better for Edith to know now.
“What’s she talking about? You’ve had voice lessons on Thursdays for as long as I’ve known you.” Edith pressed her hand to his bare chest. “Tell her, Thompson. You have voice lessons on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
He hung his head. “Tuesdays, but not Thursdays.”
Nikki waited.
“Thompson?”
The handsome young man’s eyes teared up.