“And when did you next see him?”
“When I got back here, around ten-thirty.”
He scribbled something in his notebook. “So no one can account for him the thirty minutes before Ms. Stone’s death.”
“I can’t, and obviously Chelsea can’t, but did you bother to ask anyone else?”
Cromwell looked up from his notes to glare at me. “I could also do without you trying to tell me how to do my job.”
“If you’ve got something to say about Trevor, come out and say it.”
“Fine. You seem to have an inexplicable knack for sniffing out the crazies. Do you think Trevor Wells killed Chelsea Stone?”
My jaw dropped. “Are you freaking kidding me? Trevor wouldn’t hurt a fly, much less the girl he’s in love with.”
Cromwell shook his head. “See, that’s where it gets tricky. He loved her, but did she love him back? Sounds like motive to me.”
“Sounds to me like you’ve got the wrong guy again.”
His bristly mustache twitched as he growled, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Then maybe I need to repeat it,” I fired back. I was not going to let him accuse Trevor of this. I raised my voice. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”
He hopped up, shouting, “If you think you have a free pass because you’re dating Hamilton—”
I stood as well, cutting him off. “No, I don’t! I would never—”
“Then don’t interfere with my investigation! I swear to you, if you get involved in this again, I will lock you up and no one will be able to help you.”
I stomped over to the door and wrenched it open, intending to throw Cromwell’s ass out, but found Ryder on the other side, his expression wary.
Ryder said, “I heard shouting. Everything okay in here?”
I crossed my arms and glared at Cromwell. “It will be when this ridiculous interrogation is over.”
Cromwell came over to stand in front of me. “Remember what I said, Ms. Langley.”
He didn’t scare me. I didn’t let my gaze waver; I simply stared back at him, my chin set defiantly. He grumbled something under his breath and stormed out of my apartment.
Ryder came in and closed the door behind him. He wiped a hand down his face. “Juliet—”
I threw my hands in the air. “I know, I know. I’m going to have to quit being such a bitch so you don’t get fired. Blah, blah, blah. I’ve heard it all before.” My entire body was trembling with anger.
He shook his head and came over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “I wasn’t going to say that exactly, but since you brought it up—yes, you’re going to have to work with the police instead of against us.”
I shrugged his hands off. “He started it! He was accusing Trevor, and—”
“I know. We heard the whole thing from next door.” He gestured toward the wall between Trevor’s and my apartment. “I didn’t realize your walls were so thin. We might keep that in mind the next time we, um…” He grinned at me. “You’re kind of loud sometimes.”
“If you’re trying to make me less angry, it’s not working.”
“Look, it’s Cromwell’s job to explore every possibility, even the ones you might not like. You know that firsthand. This time is no different. If Trevor didn’t have anything to do with the girl’s death, the evidence will prove it.”
“Do you think he did?” I asked.
“Between you and me?”
I nodded.
“Nah, I don’t think the kid has it in him. But it’s possible that someone out there does, which is why you’re going to pack some stuff and go straight to my house.” He reached into his pocket and handed me a set of keys. Then he pulled me into a tight hug.
“I thought maybe with all the excitement you’d forget about that.”
“Not a chance.” He kissed me on the top of my head. “I’ll have a uni follow you over. If I’m lucky I might be able to make it home to join you for a shower tomorrow morning.”
I pulled away from him. “I have to go to your place, and you’re not even going to be there? What’s the point of that?”
He clenched his jaw. “The subject is closed.” He slapped me on the ass. “Now move it.”
“Yes, sir, Detective.” I started to stalk away, but he grabbed my arm and gave me a knee-buckling kiss. One of his hands threaded itself through my hair while the other groped me very inappropriately. Once he was done, I was breathless and rather disoriented. He knew it, too, based on the smirk he threw over his shoulder at me as he was leaving. Jerk.
As I was tossing a few things into an overnight bag, I got a phone call. It was Pete.
“Hey, you’re up late,” I said when I answered.
“Never mind that. Why is your apartment building on the news? Again.”
I winced. “Guess who found another dead body?”
Chapter 4
“I can’t believe Chelsea’s dead,” Pete said for the 327th time, as he poured me a cup of coffee.
I had been a walking zombie this morning. When Pete got to Java Jive, he took one look at me and made me sit down at the counter and rest while he clumsily waited on me one-handed. I was happy to see he was his old self this morning. I didn’t think I could handle any other Pete today.
He reached across the counter and took my hand. “I’m so sorry you had to be the one to find her, Jules.” His eyes searched my face. “Are you going to be all right? I have an appointment at lunchtime with my therapist. I’ll be happy to give it to you if you want.”
I smiled. “Thanks. That’s sweet of you. But I’ll be okay. You know me. Knock me down, and I get back up.”
He tightened his grip. “And in case it really was a murder, I want you considering a new place to live. You know you can move in with me. Just say the word.”
“I know. And thank you. But Ryder’s already way ahead of you. I have to stay at his place until further notice.”
“Oh.” He released my hand and seemed a little deflated. “Well, the offer to see my therapist still stands.”
“I thought you didn’t particularly like your therapist.”
“Why do you think I’m trying so hard to give my appointment away?”
I laughed, and he joined in. I’d missed his laugh. “What’s so bad about the guy?”
Pete wrinkled his nose. “His office smells like moldy cheese.”
I leaned my head back and laughed, but only until a pain shot through it. I grabbed my forehead. “Ow. Since Ryder told me about his move to homicide, I’ve hardly slept, and then last night happened. I’ve got a killer headache.”
“No pun intended, right?”
I frowned. “Right. Sorry.” I sighed. “You know, the one we really should be worried about here is Kira. You don’t get over your roommate dying in your apartment.”
“I know. Poor kid. I think we should both give her a call and let her know the Java Jive family is here for her. She can take as much time off as she needs. You and I can take turns covering her shifts.”
I nodded, secretly thrilled that the old Pete was shining through—the guy who wanted nothing more than to take care of everyone around him.
He looked at his watch. “Hey, I gotta bounce. Don’t want to be late to work again. I’ll see you tonight, though.” He came around the counter and gave me a quick one-armed hug. “Don’t work too hard today.”
I grinned at him. “I am one lucky girl. What other boss would tell an employee not to work hard?”
“I’m your best friend first and your boss second. Don’t forget that.” He took off for the door, calling, “Later, Jules,” over his shoulder.
I stayed at the counter to finish my coffee, which turned out to be a mistake. Moments after Pete left, a man sat down on the stool next to me and drawled, “Juliet, my dear. Are you working hard or hardly working?”
I closed my eyes and blew out a sigh. I did not have the energy to deal with that asshole newspaper reporter Don Wolfe this morning. Con
tinuing to concentrate on my coffee, I said to him, “I thought we’d called a truce after I laid a front-page story at your feet.”
“And I am eternally grateful for your generosity. I simply thought, since we’re friends, you’d like to give me an exclusive on how you stumbled upon—what is it up to now—your fourth dead body?”
I said through gritted teeth, “I’m not your friend, and no, I’m never going to give you an exclusive on a tragedy I’m unfortunately involved in.”
“Tell me, are you again a person of interest in a murder?”
“It’s not a—” I almost made the mistake of giving him a usable quote, but stopped myself just in time. “Get out.”
“Are you going to make me?” he jeered, looking around. “I don’t see your boyfriend the bouncer lurking anywhere.”
“No, but I’ve got the next best thing. Hey, Rhonda!” I called to the barista making a drink at the espresso machine.
“What?” she griped.
Rhonda was not our friendliest employee, which was actually why I needed her at the moment. That, and she outweighed Wolfe by about a hundred and fifty pounds. Not that you had to be particularly large to tower over the scrawny punk—I could look him in the eye, and I wasn’t a tall woman.
“I thought you might like the honor of physically removing this parasite from the building.”
“Gladly,” she sneered, coming at Wolfe. He’d made a remark about her size a few months back, and she never forgot.
Wolfe, realizing he was about to get a beatdown, hopped up from his stool and hightailed it out the front door. Rhonda and I had a good laugh, and she went back to making drinks. I headed for the office, hoping a little peace and quiet would help my throbbing, spinning head.
—
I called Kira but couldn’t reach her, so I left a message, thinking I’d try her again later. I wasn’t in the office for ten minutes before Camille came back to let me know my “hunky boyfriend” was here. I told her to send him on back. When he walked in the door, he immediately came to me and swept me out of my seat and into a hug. He was wearing the same clothes from the previous night, so he obviously hadn’t gotten any sleep, either. He then proceeded to kiss the living daylights out of me, scratching my face all over with his unshaven stubble.
Finally breaking away, he said, “I’m sorry I missed you at home. I didn’t realize the homicide guys don’t bother to take breaks to regroup. Or shower. Cromwell is a machine. I don’t know how the old buzzard does it. I’m exhausted, and he’s still hitting the pavement, re-canvassing your entire apartment complex.”
I smiled. “Maybe he’s a robot. He has no human emotions, you know.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Didn’t you solve the mystery yet, Detective?”
His shoulders slumped. “No. And you know I can’t—”
“You can’t talk about it. I know.” I sighed, feigning wistful nostalgia. “It’s just like old times.”
Ryder’s eyes grew dark. “No, this time is going to be different, because you’re going to stay far away from this case.”
“Trust me, I want no part of it. What is there for me to meddle with, anyway?”
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be too difficult for you to find a reason.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “My head already hurts, and you’re making it worse.”
He gave me a sweet kiss on the forehead. “Sorry. I want this case to be a slam dunk, that’s all.”
Taking his hand, I said, “I do, too.”
“I’ll see you tonight. I promise to come home this time.”
I wished he wouldn’t say it like that, like it was our home. It made me edgy.
“Be safe,” I said.
“Always.”
—
I went about my day, mainly helping Camille and Rhonda out front with filling customer orders. Java Jive had enjoyed a steady stream of business since the first of the year, and as a result, I was thinking of hiring another barista for the morning shift. Before I took the plunge, though, I wanted to make sure the trend was going to continue.
At around eleven o’clock, my phone rang. It was Stan Hollingsworth, my second favorite man friend. Having been introduced to each other by Stan’s sister, Pete’s late girlfriend, Cecilia, we dated for about five minutes a while back. We quickly came to the conclusion we had much more fun as friends.
“Hey, Stan!” I said as my greeting.
“Hello, Juliet. Would you like to have lunch with me today?”
“Sure, if you don’t care that I might fall asleep in my soup.”
“Rough night?”
I hurried back toward the office for a little privacy. “Haven’t you seen the news today?”
“No.” Not surprising. I adored Stan, but he was definitely the center of his own universe. “Anyway, when can I pick you up?”
“Anytime.”
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
—
Stan took me downtown to the Omni Hotel’s Kitchen Notes restaurant. I had a rather unhealthy obsession with their pimento cheese sandwich. Only in the South is pimento cheese a holy delicacy.
After we placed our orders, Stan’s face turned serious. “I have a bit of a confession to make. I brought you here because I need your help.”
The last time he needed my help, it put me in a horribly precarious position with Ryder. “What do you need me to do?” I asked warily.
His eyes darted around, and he lowered his voice. “I’m breaking up with Jenny tonight, and I want to run my speech by you before I say it to her.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. This would be easy. “You’re breaking up with that hag? I’m in.” I’d known Jenny Vaughn since college, and there was never a moment when I’d liked that woman.
He smiled. Stan was easily the most beautiful man I’d ever met—every hair in place, custom-tailored suits, and manicured fingernails. He was from old money and was the CEO of his family’s furniture business. A great catch, but not for me. We were way too different.
“Great. Oh, and now that I’m calling it quits with Jenny, I’m going to need a new tennis partner for a fundraiser tournament Saturday afternoon. Would you like to be my partner? You’re a much better player than Jenny, so it’s a win-win for me.”
“It sounds like fun, but how is Jenny going to feel about me of all people replacing her?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think it’s possible for her to dislike you any more than she already does.”
I laughed. “That’s true. In that case, I’d be happy to.”
“Excellent.” Becoming serious again, he said, “Back to the task at hand. I thought I’d start out by taking Jenny to Sinclair’s—”
“I’m going to stop you right there. Ryder took me there the other night, and there were an obscene number of marriage proposals going on. It’s an engagement place, not a breakup place.”
He furrowed his perfectly plucked eyebrows. “Detective Hamilton took you there?”
“Yeah. Not exactly our scene, is it?”
“Oh, I didn’t mean that, Juliet.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Yeah, you did.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Well, maybe a little.” That comment might have angered me coming from anyone but Stan.
“If it were up to me, I’d take her out for a drink. That way, one, if things start going south early, you don’t have to wait around through a long dinner, and two, you can get her a little liquored-up before you drop the bomb. She might receive the news better if she’s had a few.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
“Isn’t that why you called me?”
He chuckled. “I suppose it is.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a stack of note cards. Thumbing through a few of them, he said absently, “I think I’ll start with telling her what a beautiful woman she is….”
Pressing my lips together to keep from laughing at the fact he’d made notes for his breakup speech,
I reached over and plucked one of the cards out of his hands. It had a bunch of writing scrawled on it; some phrases scratched out, some circled. At the top of the card it said “Pros,” and it seemed to be a list of the reasons why he and Jenny shouldn’t break up. One of them was “she’s open to anything in bed,” and another was “she’s well educated about wine.”
When I looked up at his sheepish expression, I let out a little chuckle. “Oh, Stan. Only you would make a pros and cons list of whether or not to dump someone.”
“This is important. I want to do it the correct way and be confident about my decision.”
I took the rest of the cards out of his hand and laid them on the table. “Stan, your love life isn’t something you can control, nor is it something you can apply a business strategy to. Go with what your heart says. Tell her the truth.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You think I should admit I had intercourse on my desk with my nineteen-year-old secretary and can think of nothing else when I’m with Jenny?”
I put my head in my hands. “Ugh! Stan, gross…”
“You said—”
“Yes, Captain Literal, I know what I said. I thought maybe the truth was you’d come to your senses and realized you didn’t enjoy Jenny’s company as much as you’d originally thought. Or maybe that you didn’t want to lead her on because you simply didn’t have amorous feelings for her anymore.”
He squinted at me. “Isn’t that the line you used on me?”
“It wasn’t a line, Stan. It was from the heart, and it was the truth. And it was the right thing to tell you, because now we’re friends and nothing is weird between us. Except when you talk about nailing your barely legal secretary.”
Grinning, he replied, “Sorry. You’re the only one I can speak with openly about these kinds of things. Keeping it to myself was killing me.”
As odd as it sounded, Stan was the only person I could go to with my problems like that as well. Pete certainly didn’t want to hear about any of my relationship issues with Ryder, and it pained me to admit I didn’t have any female friends. Ryder was trying his best to remedy that, having set me up on a blind date of sorts with two women he knew. I was pretty sure he’d gone out with at least one of them, so that would probably put a damper on an open conversation regarding him. I could talk to Gertie, but only up to the point where she wanted details about my sex life. After that, it got too awkward. In short, Stan was the best “girlfriend” I had.
A Whole Latte Murder Page 4