Eeny Meany Miny Die (Cat Sinclair Mysteries)

by Carolyn Scott

  "She's gorgeous, isn't she?" I began.

  "A stunner," he said. "Inside and out."

  Interesting that he automatically assumed I was referring to Angel. "Have you heard about the photo of Taylor that the police found in Frank's possession?"

  The wiry muscles in his arm flexed beneath my hand. "Yeah. Why?"

  "Do you know who the other guy was?"

  "No."

  "He was blond."

  He stopped and blinked at me. "It wasn't me!"

  "I didn't say it was."

  "Cat, is there something you want to ask me? Otherwise I'd like to walk with Angel if you don't mind."

  For fuck's sake! I might as well be invisible to them when Angel was around.

  We'd reached the foyer of the restaurant. The others had gone ahead and were already out the door. The doorman held it open and waited for us. I needed to be quick and to the point.

  "You love her, don't you?" I asked Corey.

  He gave me a sheepish smile and seemed to relax. "Head over heels. It's pretty obvious isn't it?"

  I nodded. "You know that gives you both a motive for killing Frank."

  He winced. "Yeah, we know. Shit, Cat, you've got to prove us innocent. Right now, it's not looking good, but I can't not love her. Especially now. She needs me."

  "You're a rock for her, Corey, I can see that. But I thought you both had other affairs."

  "We have in the past, but lately it's been just us. We're in love. I can admit it now that Frank's gone, although Angel wants me to play it down until they've arrested someone for the murder. Like you, she thinks it'll make us look suspicious in the cops' eyes."

  No shit. Both Angel and Corey had shot up to be my number one suspects. Except something still bothered me. "So she told you she loves you?"

  He nodded. "Dozens of times."

  "Right, but I've also heard her tell Jenny and Taylor that she loves them too."

  "In a platonic way. We're all good friends. There's nothing sexual with them, only me. What we have is unique." His eyes turned misty, wistful, as he stared at Angel and the others beyond. "Now that she's free of Frank, we can get married."

  Angel stood amid her friends on the sidewalk, staring back at me, not Corey. A smile formed on her lips, but it didn't meet her eyes. It sent a shiver down my spine. Either she was jealous of her lover speaking to me in private, or she was worried he was telling me something that would incriminate her.

  He hadn't. What he had done was incriminate himself. He'd just given me the best motive yet for killing Frank. Jealousy, and a desire to have Angel to himself.

  ***

  It was late when I got home, but I called Will anyway. I got his voicemail again. I thought about calling the local hospitals, but decided that would just make me look desperate. Chances were he wasn't answering me as payback. It's what I used to do to him sometimes.

  I went to bed, but tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The Karvea case was churning through my mind. Speaking to Angel and Corey had opened up new possibilities, but possibilities that worried me. I liked Angel and the others. I didn't want any of them to be guilty, but I needed to keep an open mind.

  I needed to speak to someone about it too. I'd tried talking to Gina in the cab on the way home, but she'd fallen asleep on my shoulder after five minutes. I didn't want to wake Mom either, or risk interrupting whatever it was she and Peter got up to at night. Eewwww.

  I switched on my lamp and fetched pen and paper. I tucked myself back in bed and began to write down my thoughts on the case. The phone rang as I was listing the known facts. I snatched it up on the second ring.

  "Hey," came Will's smooth, masculine voice. "You're still awake?

  "Of course I'm still awake! I've been lying here worrying about you. Where are you and why didn't you answer my calls?" God, I sounded needy. I hated being needy.

  There was a hesitation on Will's end. "You were worried about me?"

  "Of course! You never let my calls go unanswered for that long. So is this your way of punishing me?"

  "Whoa, back up. Cat, it's late, I'm tired, and you're not making sense. Start again."

  I sighed. This wasn't going well. After the crap day I'd had, plus the way our relationship was going, I just wanted the day to end. "If you weren't answering me just to show me what it's like to have your calls ignored, then that's a lousy, petty thing to do, Will. I've never let any of your calls go deliberately." Except for the couple of times it was absolutely necessary to not hear his lecture.

  "It wasn't deliberate. I had my phone switched off because I was sneaking around the NTS office after dark. I switched it back on when I got back to my car. I'm sitting there now."

  Double crap. I was such a lousy person. I should have known he'd never treat me as badly as I've treated him sometimes. I felt even worse. "You haven't even gone home yet?"

  "No. Your second message sounded kind of hysterical, so I thought I'd better call you back straight away. Are you okay? Has anyone tried to kill you in the last few hours?"

  "Ha ha."

  "See, I can joke about your murder too."

  It was so warped and lovely of him that I couldn't help laughing. "I'm sorry, Will. I thought…" I blew out a breath and snuggled down in the bed. "It doesn't matter. I'm just not used to you not answering me on the first ring. But it's a good thing. I should get used to it. You're not at my beck and call."

  "Oh-kay."

  Silence followed. I didn't know what to say to break it. Besides, I had the feeling I would say something that made me sound like a blathering idiot. Something else, that is.

  Thankfully Will broke first. "I better go. It's late and I need my beauty sleep."

  I tried to laugh but it came out hollow. "Thanks for calling back."

  We sounded like two acquaintances, or worse, like boss and employee. Not like lovers.

  He hung up before I could ask if he could come over. It was probably just as well. I didn't think we were in the right place to have makeup sex. You have to makeup for that, and I wasn't sure that we could. Our problem wasn't a misunderstanding that could be resolved with a few words. It ran deeper and was complex.

  I only hoped we could claw back some of what we had before it was completely broken.

  ***

  My ringing phone woke me up the next morning. It was Saturday. At first I thought it was Will calling to ask if he could come round. We could spend the day together and smooth things over. One glance at the screen dashed those thoughts. It was Scarface.

  "You alone?" was the first thing he asked me.

  "Yes."

  He hung up.

  The buzzer for the apartment complex door rang. I got up and let him, in then filled the kettle with water while I waited for him to climb the stairs. He shut the door behind himself and joined me in my tiny kitchen. It felt even smaller with him in it.

  He leaned his hip against the bench and his one eye traveled the length of my body. "Cute jammies."

  My pajamas were a pair of shorts and a loose T-shirt with puppies on it. I hadn't noticed how short they were until he looked at my legs like he wanted to lick them.

  "So why's Knight not here?" he asked. "You two fighting?"

  I hated how he seemed to know everything about me. Not only did it mess with my head, but it meant I was always at a disadvantage. I knew almost nothing about him. "Will and I are fine. What's that?"

  He handed me a large envelope. "Something you might be interested in for your case."

  I opened it and pulled out two photographs. They were the same photos I'd found in Frank's case the night he died, but blown up. Taylor's face was huge as he stared almost directly at the lens. The other guy's face wasn't so clear, but it was better than the smaller print. Clear enough to make out who it was.

  "Linc," I whispered. "Fucking hell."

  Scarface crossed his arms over his chest. "Why do you say that?"

  From the way he asked it, I guessed he already knew, but was trying to find out if I
knew, and maybe if my information differed from his.

  "Cindy will explode when she sees these," I said. "She's incredibly possessive."

  "And?"

  "And you already know. According to Taylor, these were taken two years ago. Linc's only eighteen now. Taylor is twenty-six."

  "Interesting you say that, because he initially told us they were taken two years ago too. Then I showed him these first thing this morning and he claimed they were taken only a couple months ago, after Linc turned eighteen."

  "Do you believe him?"

  "No."

  I studied the photos again. It showed their faces only, and Linc's was side-on. "Have you shown these to Linc?"

  He shook his head. "That's why I'm here. I want a favor."

  "And here I thought you were showing me these to help me out."

  He pushed off from the bench and crossed the space between us. He placed his palms on either side of the bench beside me and grazed my throat with his lips. His warm breath heated my blood, sending it pumping through my veins. "Why would I want to help you? I want to win our bet."

  I swallowed and put my hand to his chest, gently pushing him away. He stepped back, and gave me an amused look without quite smiling.

  "Coffee?" I offered, removing two cups from the cupboard.

  "Instant?"

  "Yes."

  "No thanks."

  I returned one cup and spooned coffee into mine. "So you need me to speak to Linc for you," I said. "Why?"

  "I want you to find him for me."

  "Me? You have the city's resources at your disposal and yet you think I'll find him? Do you really think I'm that good?"

  He rolled his eyes. "I think you're that lucky. Besides, he trusts you."

  "He does?"

  "More than he trusts us. He's not at the hotel, and Cindy said he didn't come home last night. She's worried. She said he's gone out all night before, but never in a strange city."

  I stirred the coffee and sipped. It wasn't nearly enough to wake me up properly, but it was better than nothing. "She thinks he's lost?"

  "He's not a missing dog," he said.

  "Tell her that. I'm surprised she doesn't make him wear a leash."

  "Who says she doesn't? I've got a suspicion something like that goes on between them in private."

  I pulled a face. "A suspicion, or you've put a lens on them?"

  "Now you're just being kinky."

  "You wish."

  His grin turned wicked.

  Time to get the conversation back to business before he got any ideas. I did not want to encourage Scarface while I was dressed in pajamas. "So you think he's deliberately hiding from you?"

  "Maybe."

  "Or maybe something bad has happened to him. Poor Linc. I hope he's okay."

  "See, you're nice. That's why I'm asking you for help. He thinks you're not going to screw him over."

  "That's because I wouldn't."

  He tilted his head to the side and regarded me. "But you're going to hand him over to us if you find him. Aren't you?"

  "Oh. Right. Yeah." Maybe.

  "Call him," Scarface said, fishing a piece of paper out of his pocket and handing it to me. A cell number was scrawled on it. "See if he answers. It's a long shot, but worth a try. The budget for the Renford police force is stretched, especially on Saturdays."

  "Why Saturdays?"

  "All the crazies are out." He nodded at the paper. "Call that number."

  "Now?"

  He shrugged one shoulder. "Why not?"

  "It's early."

  "It's eleven."

  "Really?" Why hadn't Will called me yet? Oh, right, we were fighting. Sort of. I wasn't sure what we were doing. Cooling down maybe.

  I set the coffee cup on the bench and picked up my phone. "Let's see if we can locate the missing Linc."

  Scarface groaned.

  I shrugged. "Someone had to say it."

  My call went straight through to Linc's voicemail. I cleared my throat as I listened to the beep tone and settled myself into the role.

  "This is Ms. Adriana Buck from Buck and Werner's casting agency," I said in my best Southern drawl. "Your name was suggested to me by an acquaintance who thinks you'd be sensational in a new sitcom we're casting. We've watched tapes of your performances in your last role and I agree. You'd be perrrrfect for the part of Harry, the teenage son. Please return my call as soon as possible and we'll set up a meeting. If my people like you, I'll contact your agent." I recited my number and hung up.

  Scarface shook his head. "You think he'll fall for that?"

  "My accent was pretty good. I thought I sounded just like Adriana Buck."

  "She's a real person?"

  "Yep. She's a Hollywood casting agent. There's nothing like a sprinkling of authenticity in a lie to reel in the quarry."

  "Remind me to never believe a thing you say again."

  "I wouldn't lie to you, Scarface. You're a cop."

  His eyes narrowed. I winked at him and his mouth softened.

  "Now all we do is wait for him to call back," I said.

  He kissed my forehead. His lips lingered longer than necessary. I didn't pull away. "I have to go, Cat. If he calls back, arrange a meeting and let me know where it is."

  My face heated at his touch. I wanted to turn away, but that would be cowardly, and obvious. I stuck it out. "Great. I do all the hard work of finding him so you can swoop in and arrest him. Unfair."

  "I don't want to arrest him, just talk to him." He curled a piece of my hair around his finger and tugged me closer. I could have resisted, but didn't. "Make sure you do call me if you hear back. He might be more dangerous than he looks."

  He gave me a light peck on the mouth then let go of my hair. He sauntered through my apartment and out the door. I let out a long, pent-up breath and sagged against the bench. I felt wrung out, stretched thin, and pulled in a hundred different directions.

  Time to hit the shower. It needed to be a cold one.

  I didn't even get a chance to finish my coffee when my phone rang. The number that came up on screen was the one I'd just dialed.

  Linc.

  CHAPTER 14

  I met Linc at a cafe two blocks from the Carleton Hotel. It was a busy place on the weekend and very public with tables spilling onto the sidewalk. It was the sort of place a representative of Buck and Werner would frequent. I wasn't meeting anyone in shadowy laneways.

  Luckily Linc never questioned why the agency would have an office in a place like Renford. When he called me back, I told him "my rep" would meet him immediately. She'd be wearing a wide brimmed hat.

  I sent Will a text before leaving the apartment, telling him where I'd be. He responded with: Should I be worried?

  I wrote back: No.

  He thanked me for telling him. It was all very businesslike. I hated it.

  I did not call Scarface and tell him about the rendezvous. I wanted a chance to question Linc alone first.

  I caught a cab to the cafe, since buses were unreliable on Saturdays and the big hat made being in confined spaces a challenge. I'd wanted something to hide my face so Linc would come right up to me before he saw that it was me.

  The hat worked perfectly. His outstretched hand appeared in my line of vision first. "Lincoln Gardiner," he said. "So pleased to meet you. What was your name again? I don't think Adriana mentioned it."

  I shook the hand limply. "Sit down Mr. Gardiner." I waited until he was seated before looking up and removing the hat.

  "Fuck," he muttered. "I thought it was too good to be true."

  Poor Linc. He looked so young and vulnerable sitting there with hound dog eyes blinking back at me. I felt bad for taking advantage of his desperation to get back into acting. If nothing else, it hammered home how much of a bitch Cindy really was. She'd been taking advantage of him for months.

  "I'm sorry I lied to get you here," I said. "But the police told me you'd gone missing. I was worried you would avoid my call if you knew it was m
e."

  His answer was a petulant grunt.

  "Why?"

  "You're working with the cops and I don't trust cops."

  "Actually, I work alone. But why don't you trust the police?"

  He rounded his shoulders. "My dad had some run-ins with them. He taught me never to trust cops. They'll twist the truth to get the answers they want."

  There was no point telling him otherwise. He was young enough to still believe most of what his parents told him.

  "The cops don't want to arrest you, Linc. As far as I know, you're not a suspect. But new information has come to light."

  "What new evidence?"

  We were interrupted by a perky waitress in a skirt so short it barely covered her ass. She couldn't take her eyes off Linc. When she finally turned to me to take my order, she looked me over with an I-can't-believe-he's-with-you expression.

  "Go on," Linc said once she'd gone.

  Scarface had taken the photos with him, so I had nothing to show. "There were some photos found in Frank Karvea's possession after his death. They showed Taylor in a compromising position with another guy. The other man's face wasn't clear. Until now."

  His reaction hardly changed. Either he knew nothing about the photos or he was a fantastic actor under pressure.

  "It's you," I told him.

  That made him shift in his seat and avoid my gaze. He crossed his arms, shoving his hands right up under his pits. "So? I'm bi, okay." Teenage attitude laced his words and the accompanying sneer. "Who cares anyway? It's not like half the population isn't."

  "When did you and Taylor have a relationship?"

  "It wasn't a relationship! It was a casual fuck. Nothing else. Okay? Jeez, loosen up. You know, people your age are such prudes."

  I'd been called a lot of things in my life, but never a prude. And never had my age been used as an insult from someone younger then me. Linc had just poked the bear. "Now listen here, you little shit." I kept my voice low so the patrons around us couldn't hear. Besides, threats sounded so much more, well, threatening when spoken calmly. "Just answer my questions truthfully and Cindy never needs to know about you and Taylor. You've got a nice meal ticket going there, and I wouldn't blow it to save his ass if I were you."