The Dead-End Job Mysteries Box Set 2

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The Dead-End Job Mysteries Box Set 2 Page 67

by Elaine Viets


  “I didn’t realize you were friends,” Phil said.

  “We aren’t,” Helen said. “She’s innocent, Phil. She didn’t murder Debbi. I want to find the real killer.”

  “Very noble,” Phil said. “But Evie’s not a paying customer. We’re a two-person agency with two cases we haven’t solved yet. Can we afford to help her get out of jail?”

  “Evie is our free advertising,” Helen said. “We have no budget. You’ve been too busy to hang around the courthouse and latch on to an up-and-coming law firm. How are we going to find new cases?

  “We won’t be getting any word-of-mouth business from our current ones. If I prove that Shelby’s husband is cheating on her, she won’t want to tell the world. Gus won’t want publicity about his brother’s murder, not with his family’s past—and that’s if we find Mark’s killer.”

  “And prove it after twenty-five years,” Phil said.

  “Exactly.” Helen kicked off her shoes, then peeled off her black pants, sparkling with bits of broken glass. The pants followed the shirt into the basket.

  “If I save an innocent woman railroaded on a murder charge,” Helen said, “that television reporter you mentioned—Valerie what’s-her-name—”

  “Cannata,” Phil said.

  “Valerie Cannata will beg for that story,” Helen said. “Florida is a death-penalty state, so I’ll have saved an innocent woman’s life. Valerie could splash our name all over the television. We can’t buy that kind of advertising. TV viewers will see that Coronado Investigations is smarter than the police. We’ll be the agency to consult when someone has a hopeless case.”

  “Good thinking, partner,” Phil said. He kissed her.

  “How do you know Valerie Cannata, anyway?” Helen asked.

  Phil’s face was expressionless. “She’s an old friend.”

  “Not that old,” Helen said. “I’ve seen Valerie on television. If I remember right, she’s dark-haired, tall and thin. Did you meet her when you were a PI?”

  “A gentleman never tells,” Phil said. “Are you going to compare notes with my old flame?”

  “So that’s how it was,” Helen said.

  “We were both single.” Phil stripped off his shirt while Helen admired his chest. “Val moved on to someone better. So did I.” He kissed Helen again, a deeper kiss.

  “I’m not jealous of your past,” Helen said. “I want your future. You wouldn’t happen to have Valerie’s cell phone number, would you?”

  “I might,” Phil said.

  “I’m going to ask her for help,” Helen said. “I’ll tell you about it when I get out of the shower.”

  She felt better after a steaming shower. Wrapped in a towel, Helen slid into bed beside Phil.

  “I found Valerie’s number and keyed it into your cell phone,” he said. “I added her office number. Now tell me why you want to reach her.”

  “I think Debbi was murdered, just like that detective said. But I don’t think Evie killed her. Heather gave her a fruit smoothie right before she died. She and Debbi had a big fight over a TV channel at the gym. It was a stupid fight. Heather said that fight poisoned the atmosphere and she wanted to make up and gave Debbi a drink she made herself. What if she’d mixed in some oxycodone and it killed Debbi?”

  “Over a TV channel?” Phil said.

  “Ever Ready said people have killed for less,” Helen said.

  “Possible,” Phil said.

  “How about this scenario? Debbi’s two trainers were shooting steroids. The whole gym knew that’s why they went out to the parking lot at three o’clock. They got their protégé hooked on ’roids. They had her use fat burners and bodybuilding powders. Longtime bodybuilders get injured and gulp pain pills. They’d be more likely to give Debbi oxy. The drugs probably came from the back room at Granddaddy’s Bar. I saw one of Debbi’s trainers there.”

  “But why kill her?” Phil asked. “I thought they wanted Debbi to jump-start their new careers as serious trainers.”

  “Debbi couldn’t compete in her first match—because of their bad advice. She was crazy with rage. Maybe Debbi threatened to expose her inept, drug-using trainers. If that happened, she could end their bodybuilding and their training careers. Poor Evie was living at Fantastic Fitness. She was good at hiding. Maybe she saw the trainers kill Debbi and now she’s afraid of them.”

  “Lotta maybes there,” Phil said. “Do you really think Evie was frightened enough to risk prison? A women’s jail is not a ladies’ sodality.”

  “Evie was broke, hungry and homeless,” Helen said. “She slept at the gym in the women’s lounge, in the towel closet, even in an air duct. Prison promised a bed and three squares. In her situation, that could look good.”

  “Better than the death penalty?” Phil said.

  “That would be many years in the future,” Helen said. “Evie needs help now. I want to persuade her to talk. If my theory is right, I’ll set a trap for the killers. Valerie will get an amazing story, and we’ll get publicity.”

  “How will you persuade that homicide detective he’s wrong?” Phil asked.

  “I won’t have to,” Helen said. “There’s an ambitious uniform, Officer McNamara Dorsey. Officer Mac would love to help Ever Ready retire.”

  “Then what will you do for the rest of the day, hero? Rest on your laurels?” He was teasing her.

  “I’ll go to the bodybuilding championship and cheer on our gym members.”

  “Impressive,” Phil said.

  “I can’t fight for truth and justice single-handedly,” Helen said. “I have to be a good team player.” She kissed Phil good night and sank into the pillow.

  Helen felt like she’d slept seven seconds instead of seven hours when the alarm blasted her out of bed at nine o’clock.

  The Harriet Brackensieck Women’s Correction Facility of Broward County—better known as Brackie—was on a barren stretch of Highway 27 near the Everglades. As Helen drove past sun-strafed scrubland, shabby houses and dying businesses, she was grateful for the Igloo’s cool air. She hoped Evie would see her. Prisoners had the right to refuse any visitor, one of the few privileges they retained.

  Evie not only agreed to talk to Helen, she was grateful for the visit. Helen was surprised to see a smiling Evie sit down in the booth behind a Plexiglas shield. The tiny gray-haired woman looked better after her short stint in prison. She’d put on a little weight and seemed rested. The old jail was not air-conditioned. Huge fans on stands barely stirred the hot, heavy air. Evie didn’t seem to notice the heat.

  I’m right, Helen thought. A prison bunk was more comfortable than the Fantastic Fitness couch. Evie no longer has to worry about money—just her freedom.

  Evie lifted the phone receiver to talk to Helen. “I didn’t think you’d remember me,” she said. “The only person I talk to now is my lawyer, and she’s young enough to be my daughter. Nancie Hays gives nice pep talks, but I don’t think she has much hope. It’s not bad here, really. I do have to work, and there’s no air-conditioning in our dorms, but heat never bothered me. I can take education courses, too.”

  Helen had never heard Evie say so much the entire time she’d known her.

  “I’m here for a favor,” Helen said.

  “Do you really think I can do anything for you?”

  “You can tell me why you said you’d feel safer in jail,” Helen said.

  Evie’s eyes shifted to the floor. She wouldn’t look at Helen. “I’m getting a divorce. My husband, Peter, is mean.”

  “Has he threatened you?” Helen said. “We can get a restraining order. I can have someone talk to him for you.”

  “No! Don’t do that!”

  “Why not, Evie?”

  “Because . . .” Evie stopped.

  “Because that’s not why you’re afraid, is it?”

  Evie nodded, like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Helen held her breath, waiting for Evie to stand up and say the interview was over. Evie stayed in her chair.
>
  She wants to tell me, Helen thought. Might as well try out my theory. I have nothing to lose.

  “Let me say it, if you won’t,” Helen said. “You know who killed Debbi. You saw a lot of things when you lived at the gym. You saw Debbi’s killers.”

  Evie’s face crumpled, but she said nothing.

  “Tansi and Kristi murdered her, didn’t they?”

  Silence.

  “Please,” Helen said. “Please tell me what you heard. Her trainers could hurt me, too. Ambition and steroid abuse are dangerous combinations.”

  “Even if I told you, that homicide detective wouldn’t listen,” Evie said.

  Progress! Helen thought. “No, but your lawyer would. And so would an investigative reporter. You’ve been jailed unfairly, Evie. You could sue the city of West Hills and Detective Evarts Redding for wrongful arrest. You’d have enough money to live on when you got out.”

  “They could still kill me,” Evie said.

  “Not if you’re free and they’re locked up. Please, Evie, tell me. What did you see?”

  “I’m sort of shy,” Evie said. “I don’t like undressing in the locker room where everyone can see me. I change in the toilet stalls. They have long shutter-type doors, so you can’t tell if anyone is in one. Debbi came into the locker room, crying. I was afraid to come out after she threw that weight at me. I peeked through the slats and watched, waiting for her to leave. Instead, Tansi and Kristi came in soon after her. They’re a weird pair.”

  “Kristi looks like a space alien,” Helen said. “Tansi looks like a lizard.”

  Evie managed a weak smile. “Both of them screamed at Debbi,” Evie said. “They told her she overdid it and didn’t eat enough and that’s why her skin cratered.

  “Debbi was sobbing. I felt sorry for her, even if she did try to hit me. She was so young, and she’d invested so much effort in her bodybuilding. Debbi said it was her first competition and she’d followed their advice. She said she was going to tell everyone that Tansi and Kristi were terrible trainers and used steroids. She’d get them kicked out of the competition and barred from the gym.”

  Evie took a deep breath, as if she was glad to have that off her chest.

  “The trainers tried to calm her down, but Debbi got angrier. She said she was starving and her back hurt and now she’d suffered for nothing. Tansi, the creepy lizard, gave her an energy bar from her gym bag. Debbi gobbled it like a wild animal.

  “Kristi said that she had some pills for the pain.

  “ ‘ Are they illegal?’ Debbi asked.

  “ ‘ No,’ Kristi said. ‘I got them from my doctor. Lots of important people take this stuff, even a big-time radio guy. You’ll feel better, I promise.’

  “I heard a funny metallic noise. Tansi was removing the bar for the shower curtain in the back corner. Those metal bars sort of sit in shallow cups. She lifted up the bar, slanted it down, and these pills poured out.

  “Kristi told Debbi she could take six pills because they were about the same size. Tansi poured her a plastic cup of water. Debbi took the pills.

  “The two trainers said she’d feel better after a shower. They said they’d made a slight miscalculation in her food and water intake, but now they knew better. She’d win the spring competition for sure.

  “Debbi took a shower. Tansi put the cup in her gym bag, and they left. I waited until those two were gone. I heard Debbi turn off the water. She was dressing in the shower stall in the back. She couldn’t see me. That’s when I ran out. I left the gym to find a job and then came back later.”

  “You never saw the body?” Helen asked.

  “I never went in the locker room that night. I slept in the women’s lounge. I heard you come in and turn off the alarm system, and I hid in the towel closet. You discovered the body, and that’s all I know.”

  “Evie, why didn’t you tell that to the detective?”

  “I tried. He wouldn’t believe me,” Evie said. “He was sure I killed her. I was afraid of Kristi and Tansi. They were cold. I watched them kill Debbi, though I didn’t know it. They never said a word to each other. They just did it. I’m safer here in jail. Some of these girls are tough, but they’re no crazier than Debbi in a ’roid rage. They get punished if they start fights.”

  “Debbi’s killers can’t hurt you if they’re in jail,” Helen said.

  “But how do we catch them?” Evie asked. “Tansi and Kristi are there almost every day. They always go out at three for their parking lot shoot up.”

  “I know,” Helen said. “Let me arrange everything. How do I reach your lawyer?”

  “You’d really do this for me?” Evie asked.

  “No,” Helen said. “For me.”

  CHAPTER 37

  By two fifteen that afternoon, Helen’s team was in place. Lawyer Nancie Hays, investigative TV reporter Valerie Cannata and Officer Mac Dorsey were at Fantastic Fitness.

  Helen introduced them as three potential new members and made sure they got guest passes. She’d already warned them they would have to listen to a sales spiel first.

  Nancie said she’d endure it for her client. Officer Dorsey said she’d listen to anything if it would force that homicide detective into early retirement. Valerie Cannata said she’d do it, but “I have to cancel an interview with the mayor.”

  “It’s worth an Emmy,” Helen promised.

  “It better be,” Valerie said.

  It has to be, Helen thought. Things have to start going my way. It’s a good sign that I got all three people I needed here on short notice, isn’t it?

  Helen was desperate, hoping for magic where none existed.

  “What color is the locker room floor?” Valerie asked.

  “Gray tile,” Helen said.

  “Dark or light?”

  “Slate gray,” Helen said.

  “Good,” Valerie said. “I’ll bring our new ‘spy cam’ in a dark gym bag. We can tape what happens with a hidden camera.”

  After directing the trio to the Fantastic Fitness sales department, Helen checked in at the reception desk with Carla. Even her colleague’s brown hair looked perky this afternoon.

  “I didn’t expect to see you,” Carla said. “Why are you here on your day off?”

  “Derek wants me to lose weight,” Helen said.

  “You don’t need to,” Carla said.

  Helen shrugged. “I need this job. I thought I could exercise better when I wasn’t so tired after working all day.”

  “Such a diligent employee,” Carla said, and grinned.

  Helen waved at Derek as he headed upstairs. “Afternoon, Helen,” the day manager called. His Caribbean accent had lost its charm for her. She hated his insistence that she was overweight.

  Helen commandeered the treadmill by the door as her lookout. Officer Mac Dorsey took the empty treadmill next to Helen and watched for their prearranged signal.

  When Helen stopped her treadmill, Officer Dorsey would wander back to the women’s locker room. As soon as Evie’s lawyer, Nancie Hays, saw the police officer in the doorway, she would hide in a shower stall.

  Valerie, the TV reporter, was already in place on the other locker room bench, painting her lips. Her gray gym bag with the spy cam was planted under a bench, the tiny lens aimed at the back shower. It melted into the dark tile and the shadows.

  Valerie had dressed for success. Her red-hot satin jersey workout suit would look dynamite on camera. She was too famous to hang around the gym unnoticed, so she covered her dark hair with a blond wig. If any gym member started toward the back shower, Valerie would enter first and keep it off-limits.

  When the trainers came into the dressing room, Valerie planned to hide in another shower.

  Meanwhile, in the front of the gym, Helen was sweating, running and watching the clock. It refused to move.

  Two eighteen p.m. Nothing.

  Two twenty-three p.m. No sign of the Alien or the Lizard.

  Two twenty-seven p.m. The two trainers usually didn’t arrive
for another three minutes at the earliest, but Helen was tiring. I’m not out of shape, she told herself. I was up late again last night.

  She dialed the running speed down to a leisurely pace and hoped the pair would arrive before she collapsed.

  Officer Dorsey was running at the fastest speed and not even breaking a sweat. Helen hoped the police officer would have the energy to chase Kristi and Tansi if the trainers made a break for the door.

  Helen tried to convince herself that her plan would work. Officer Dorsey had already checked the murder book and confirmed that the crime scene techs had pulled prints off the shower bar where Evie said the drugs were hidden.

  Officer Dorsey did warn Helen that Detective Ever Ready had built his case on one cold, hard fact: Evie’s estranged husband had a prescription for oxycodone for pain. Evie’s prints were on the bottle along with her husband’s.

  Two thirty-one p.m. Helen’s heart was pounding, but not from the exercise. Come on, you two, she prayed, as if that could make them appear.

  Tansi and Kristi walked through the gym doors at two thirty-three p.m., hair styled, spray tans glowing. Helen shut off her treadmill, nearly collapsing with relief.

  Officer Dorsey switched her machine to the cool-down mode, ran for another thirty seconds, then ambled toward the locker room.

  Tansi and Kristi were schmoozing at the reception desk with Carla, pumping up support for the bodybuilding competition.

  “I’ll definitely be there,” Carla said. “The whole gym is going.” She didn’t mention that they’d be cheering for Paula.

  “It starts at five,” Kristi said. “We have our suits packed and ready. All we have to do is show up in front of the judges and then pose with our trophies.”

  “You sound confident,” Helen said, strolling over to the desk.

  “Winners are always confident,” Tansi said. “A cheering section helps, though. The judges are more likely to vote for a popular choice.”

  Helen wondered if that was true.

  “Don’t worry,” Carla said. “We’ll all be cheering.”

  “Do you need a ticket, Helen?” Kristi said. “We have extras.”

  “Already have mine,” she said. “There are some new members here today. I saw one head for the women’s locker room. Maybe she’d like to go.”

 

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