by Ellie Ashe
“Hi, remember me?” I asked with a smile.
From the scowl on her face, I guessed she did. “What are you doing here?”
“We should talk, Rita.”
She glanced at Burton, who gave her a warm smile. “Hello. This is a lovely store.”
We’d done this before and easily stepped into our roles. Burton took good cop—sweet, calm, reasonable. I’d put the pressure on Rita, make sure she knew the only way out was to cooperate with us. It was a highly effective tactic. No one ever expected me to be to be the bad cop to Burton’s good cop.
“Thank you,” she said, stepping over the now-empty to-go box. “Who are you?”
“I’m Sarah Girard,” I said, standing and extending a hand. She took it warily. “This is Burton Worthington.”
Burton stayed seated and gave a friendly wave. I remained near him, a nonthreatening distance from Rita, who was still just feet from the door and looked like she’d bolt at the first sign of trouble.
“And why are you here?” Rita said. “Eddie’s gone. Clearly.”
She hissed the last word, her eyes narrowing at the thought of her boyfriend abandoning her.
“We’re actually here to talk to you,” I said. “About Eddie.”
“I’m not going to talk to you about Eddie.”
I ignored her, knowing that she wanted to talk about Eddie. Or she would shortly.
“Did he tell you why we’re trying to serve this subpoena on him?”
Rita nodded. “It’s to testify at a trial, and he doesn’t know anything, so it’s useless to even try.”
I gave her a sad smile and shook my head. “I’ve been trying to serve divorce papers on Eddie Lucas for two weeks.”
A quick succession of emotions crossed Rita’s pretty face—shock, joy, confusion. “Divorce?”
“Yes.”
“Does he know that?”
I gave her a sympathetic tilt of my head. “Of course he knows. He just doesn’t want a divorce.”
She frowned. “I don’t believe you.”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. He’s only delaying the inevitable. Mrs. Lucas knows about her husband’s affairs.”
“He’d tell me if he were getting divorced,” Rita said, but her face betrayed her uncertainty. “Did you say affairs?”
Pressing forward with my case, I motioned to Burton. “Now my colleague here, Mr. Worthington, he’s an investigator employed by Leo Adler’s defense attorney. And he needs to clarify some things that he’s learned about Eddie’s involvement in the fire at the Lemon Basil Bistro.”
I looked around at the store. “It sure looks nice now. You’d never know that just months ago it was just a shell of the building. That was a pretty bad fire.”
Rita swallowed hard and I saw her hand tremble slightly. “Maybe you two should go.”
Fat chance of getting Burton to stand up and walk out on his own power. He’d need another ten minutes or so before he’d have full use of his leg.
“Did you know Eddie lied about his whereabouts that night?” I asked.
It was a bluff, but I sounded confident. I waited to see if she’d buy it.
“He didn’t lie. He just didn’t give all the information to the officer.”
Bingo.
“And you didn’t bother to correct Eddie’s mistake?” I asked.
She gave an indignant huff. “No one asked me. If they had, I would have said that Eddie didn’t get to my place until after one in the morning, not before midnight.”
Burton shifted on the sofa, leaning forward so his arms were resting on his knees. He looked up at Rita, his gaze soft and understanding.
“He put you in a bad situation, didn’t he?” he asked, his voice soothing and trustworthy.
She nodded, her resistance melting.
“Did he tell you why he needed to lie?” I asked.
She shot me a glare. “He knew that he’d be suspected if anyone knew he was here that night.”
“You were willing to let an innocent man go to prison?”
Her mouth opened and she looked around the store. I understood her confusion—she’d wanted this building, Eddie got it for her. She was struggling to be loyal to him, achieve her dream, in the face of the consequences of her actions, which would be that Leo went prison for a very long time.
“Sarah, why don’t you give Curtis a call?” Burton pressed his cell phone into my hand, and I nodded. It would be best to get a statement from Rita while she was angry at Eddie and willing to cooperate. “Rita, come sit down. You look a little pale. Are you feeling okay?”
Burton patted the couch and Rita took a seat next to him, looking a little stunned. I slipped out the back door and found Curtis’ phone number in Burton’s phone.
“Hey, Burton.”
“It’s Sarah.”
“Oh—uh, oh, hi Sarah. What’s up?” Curtis’s stammer made me feel horrible. He was a nice guy and I didn’t want to lead him on.
“Need another favor,” I said, crossing my fingers that Curtis was still patrolling in the neighborhood. “Burton and I are over on Chalk Quarry Boulevard.”
“I’m five minutes from there,” Curtis said once I gave him the address. “Be there soon.”
I returned to find Rita sobbing into Burton’s shirtfront, his arm around her. He was really good at being the good cop. I couldn’t have been gone two minutes.
“I th-th-thought he loved me.”
He patted her back and let her cry.
“Curtis is on the way.”
He nodded, just as I heard the familiar rumble of a V-8 engine. Eddie was back.
Burton and I exchanged a glance.
“He’s back,” Rita said, sniffing and standing up. “Give me that subpoena.”
I started to object, but Burton took her hand and stared deep into Rita’s eyes. “Are you sure?”
She gave a firm nod and he handed her the papers.
“You should get out of here,” she said, and then turned toward the exit as the sound of the car went silent. “Hurry, get in here.”
She ran to a louvered dressing room door. Burton stood and wobbled, and I rushed to his side, and helped him limp into the tiny space. It was filled with yet-to-be unpacked boxes, and we were crammed together in the dark. I peered through the slats to watch Rita, but my view through the wood slats was limited to the red carpet.
“Hold still,” Burton hissed in my ear. Suddenly I was very aware of how close we were in the dark, our bodies pressed together. He was leaning against the wall, and I was leaning against him, trying not to kick the precarious stack of boxes.
“I’m trying to see,” I protested in a whisper.
“Shhh,” he said.
We waited in silence for a few more seconds, and I wondered if Eddie was going to come in. Then I heard the sound of a car door slamming.
“Can’t believe you shot me in the ass,” Burton whispered, his breath ruffling my hair.
“Eddie shot you in the ass,” I said.
His sharp exhale said he didn’t believe me.
“Rita, love? Are you in here?” Eddie called out. The door opened and shut with a click.
“I’m back here,” Rita said, sounding like she was about five feet from the dressing room door. I drew a shallow breath and tried not to move.
“Sorry, I had to run out for a minute,” Eddie said, sounding breathless.
“Oh? What happened?” Rita asked, her voice sweet and concerned.
“Nothing, just work stuff,” he said. “Now, I know you have wine glasses here somewhere. Let’s open this bottle.”
“Sure, just give a few minutes to finish this,” she said. “By the way, I got a call today from someone about the fire.”
Man, butter wouldn’t melt in this woman’s mouth. She had purposefully set him up near the dressing room so we’d hear everything.
“Uh, fire? Who, who was it?” I smiled Eddie’s nervous stammer.
“An investigator, I think,” she said.
As the tension in Eddie’s voice rose, my pulse quickened. Burton’s arms tightened around me in a silent signal. Stay calm.
“Hmm, maybe from the police. I can’t remember,” Rita said. Now she was just playing with him. It was like watching a predator toying with its food.
“Well, do you remember what they wanted to know?”
“Something about the time you arrived at my house that night,” she said.
A shadow crossed the door, and I drew back, meeting Burton’s rock-hard chest. He arms pulled me tight against him, and I was no longer sure if my quickening pulse was from the risk of being discovered by Eddie or from the full-body contact with Burton. I swallowed hard and tried to calm my breathing.
“Rita, darling, this is really important. What did you tell the investigator?”
“Why does it matter, Eddie?” Rita asked, her tone calm and sweet. “I mean, if you had nothing to do with it. Why not just tell him the truth?”
A frustrated breath exploded from Eddie. I peeked out the wood slats and saw his shoes and pant legs just outside the door.
“Sweetheart, it would be better if you just stuck to our story. I got to your place before midnight. That’s close enough to the truth, right?” Eddie sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
“But it’s not the truth, Eddie. Tell me what you did.”
“No, I can’t.”
“If you want me to lie for you, I need to know. Otherwise…” Rita’s voice trailed off into a threat.
“Look, you wanted this building. I got you the building. You don’t need to know anything more than that.”
Rita’s outraged gasp seemed genuine. “Eddie! What did you do? Did you burn this place down?”
“No! I mean, I didn’t mean to! Leo wouldn’t move out early. I was just going to damage the kitchen, make it so he had to break the lease early. It was just going to be a small fire.”
“And what about Leo?”
“What about him? He confessed! If he wants to take the blame, who am I to stop him?”
“You were going to let an innocent man go to prison?”
“If he didn’t do it, he won’t be convicted. That’s not how courts work,” Eddie snapped.
My eyes narrowed. Yeah, it was how courts work, I wanted to shout, and maybe add a jolt from the stun gun to make my point. If people wouldn’t step up and testify, then an innocent man could well go to prison.
“Anyway, if it looks like the case isn’t going well, I will step forward and tell someone that Leo didn’t do it,” Eddie said.
“How will you know how the trial’s going? You’ll be in Paris,” Rita said.
“Rita, sweetheart, come with me,” Eddie said, pleading. “Let’s just go and leave all this behind. I’ll write a letter to prosecutor and then we can go, just get out of the country and take a long vacation.”
“Well, I don’t know,” Rita said, moving away. “Won’t your wife be upset?”
“What? My wife?” Eddie sounded as if he were surprised to learn he had one of those. “What does she have to do with this?”
“Well, have you asked her for a divorce yet?”
Oh, this might be turning ugly, I thought and looked up at Burton. I nodded toward the door, but he shook his head and shifted his weight, seeming to test how well his leg was recovering.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I got this.”
I reached into his pants pocket, my eyes still on his face, watching the shock register as he realized where my hand was. I pulled out the stun gun and flipped the switch.
“Sarah, no.” His arms wrapped around me and held me firm.
“Of course I asked her for a divorce. She won’t do it,” Eddie said.
“She can’t keep you married against your will,” Rita snapped, that temper starting to crack through the fake veneer she’d been showing.
“Baby, I’m trying. As soon as I can, I’m leaving her. Just be patient.”
Eddie’s simpering whine was greeted with a loud crash outside the thin dressing-room door that made me jump, bumping into Burton and sending us both backward into a pile of boxes. As we scrambled to stand, Rita’s voice raged on the other side of the door.
“Liar!”
Another crash sounded as Burton and I struggled to stand amid the boxes of inventory in the cramped room, our legs entwined and bodies writhing together. Had it been under better circumstances, the moment might go down as one of my fondest memories. But there was a third crash and another high-pitched scream, and I was sure when we made it out of the dressing room, there was going to be blood—probably Eddie’s.
I got to my feet, fought my way to the door, then tripped over Burton’s feet and fell against it, propelling it open. I spilled out onto the red carpet and then looked up to see Eddie running toward me, and rolled to one side to escape his path. He was running toward the exit, chased by Rita, who was wielding a female mannequin torso, swinging at him as he ducked and weaved.
“Stop it,” he yelled.
“You liar!”
Burton burst from the dressing room and launched himself at Eddie, but either his aim was off or he wasn’t expecting the tufted ottoman in the way, and he landed alone on the floor amid a rack of lace demi-bras that Rita had apparently thrown at her lover.
“I know your wife wants a divorce!” Rita swung the mannequin again, knocking Eddie into a wall. He struggled to regain his footing and tried again for the door.
“Stop! Police!” Curtis burst through the back door, and Eddie scrambled backward, his hands up. Then he glanced backward at the front door to the shop, turned, and ran for that exit.
“Stop!” Curtis yelled again, and then fired his Taser.
Unlike my little hand-held stun gun, Curtis’s professional grade Taser fired darts and from my view on the floor, I got to see both of them penetrate Eddie’s thin cotton shirt and then watch him flop to the ground and convulse.
Rita ran at the crumpled figure on the ground, and I didn’t know if she was going to help him or hurt him. Curtis caught her as she kicked at Eddie’s prone figure. He lifted her off the ground and took a kick in the shin for his troubles.
“Let me go! I’m not done with him!” she screeched.
As I climbed off the floor, Curtis wrestled Rita to the ground and cuffed her, fastening her hands to a wrought-iron bench that at least would slow her down if she tried to kill Eddie again. I straightened my dress, then went over to Burton, who was leaning on a dresser.
“Are you all right?” I asked, and got a stern glare in return.
I smiled. Frankly, it was nice to know that Superman wasn’t perfect. I patted his arm then saw the familiar battered papers on the dresser. Picking them up, I gave Burton a wide smile and then crossed the now-destroyed lingerie shop.
Eddie lay on the ground, his body curled into a fetal position. His hands were curled into tight fists. I stepped over the mannequin carcass and leaned down, grabbing his hand and forcing his fingers open. Then I worked the subpoena into his fist and curled his fingers back in place.
“Eddie Lucas, you’ve been served a subpoena to testify at the trial of Leo Adler.”
I stood up and let Curtis and Burton get Eddie to a sitting position. Red and blue lights announced that Curtis’s backup had arrived.
“You know there’s probably not going to be a trial now, right?” Burton asked.
“I know. It’s the principle.”
Curtis snapped handcuffs on Eddie, even though he didn’t look like he’d be able to get up and run for quite some time. A very unhappy police detective walked in, and I recognized him as the lead investigator on Leo’s case. He glared at me and Burton, then at Eddie. It was no fun having your entire case get blown out of the water just before it’s supposed to go to trial. Of course, it’s also no fun to go prison for a crime you didn’t commit, so I didn’t feel at all bad about making the cop look incompetent.
Still
, it seemed like a good time to get out of the Red Silk Ribbon. Burton had the same thought, nodding toward the back door as more cops arrived. We moved slowly toward the door, and I caught Curtis’s eye and waved. He looked like he might stop us, but then shrugged. He knew where to find us. The real action was with the crying redhead who was pointing at Eddie and shouting things like “arsonist” and “cheating bastard.” The cops only cared about the first, but Rita was going to give them an earful on both.
Burton’s phone rang softly, and he answered it as we slipped out the door. I could hear the voice on the other end of the phone and eavesdropped shamelessly.
“Hey, Burton, it’s Don from Bernini’s. I tried to hold your table, but I had to let it go. I can get you in later, if that will work.”
Burton looked down at me, a smile playing around his lips. “What time can you get us in?”
“Last seating is at 9:30 and I can save you a table.”
“We’ll be there. Thanks.”
He disconnected and slipped his phone back into his pocket, then looked down at me. “Are you still hungry?”
“You made reservations for Bernini’s for tonight? I thought you wanted tacos.”
His slow smile and raised eyebrow caused my cheeks to flush. “I know what you like, Sarah.”
His deep voice saying my name sent a delicious tingle through me. The thought that he knew my favorite restaurant, knew where I’d demand to go, made my pulse flutter. So maybe he was arrogant. He was also pretty thoughtful. And kind, trying to help Sugar out of her mess. Sure, he might be too beautiful for his own good, but who was I to complain about the view?
I raised my chin and smiled back at him.
“Et moi aussi je sais ce que t’aimes,” I said, brushing past him with a knowing smile.
I knew exactly what he liked, too.
About the Author
Ellie Ashe has always been drawn to jobs where she can tell stories—journalist, lawyer, and now writer. Writing quirky romantic mysteries is how she gets the "happily ever after" that so often is lacking in her day job.
When not writing, you can find her with her nose in a good book, watching far too much TV, or trying out new recipes on unsuspecting friends and family. She lives in Northern California with her husband and two cats, all of whom worry when she starts browsing the puppy listings on petfinder.com.