Nick didn’t say anything, just nodded.
“I can’t have a mistress, because I’m married to the fucking mayor, after all. Just opens myself up to blackmail. And those hookers, they don’t watch the news or read the papers. They probably don’t even know the mayor is a woman. So, I get a little head, and all is good with the world.” He shook his head. “Only not this time.”
“Mr. Wick, where were you last night?”
Reginald jumped up from the chair. “Now I know we’re done talking.”
Nick also stood, but not with any urgency. “Why is that?”
“The chick, she’s dead. If I’m here, she was murdered. And you want to know if I had anything to do with it.” He raised his hands to the ceiling and looked up. “Praise the Lord, something good came out of this. I’ve been on such a short leash ever since the arrest, I’ve been with either my wife or my brother-in-law at all times. In fact, my brother-in-law is waiting in the car for me right now. I’m cleared, my friend.”
The man was downright jovial. Something was finally going his way. Too bad it didn’t help us.
“What about your wife?” Nick asked.
That stopped Reginald in his tracks.
“You’d have to bring her in, but this much I can tell you. I was in the car waiting for her when she was here last night, then we went home. We were together the whole night. And before you ask, yes, we have witnesses.” He waved. “Catch you on the flip side.” He walked out of the room.
I stood, staring at the TV screen. Nick stood, staring at the door. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”
I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or to himself. I did know that I didn’t like him keeping secrets from me, and being told to stay away from Gabe was picking at my nerves. I watched him pick up his phone on his way out of the room, and his expression changed from amused to pissed in a fraction of a second.
CHAPTER 20
Mimi
I’d given up on texting Charles and started calling his cell phone, but still no answer. This wasn’t like him. He never was out of contact for very long. Maybe he and Anthony were having a heart to heart, in which case, I needed to stop calling him and concentrate on the matter in front of me, which happened to be Nick.
“Would you be up for accompanying me to the bank?” Nick asked.
“Business or pleasure?” I was hoping he was stopping by the ATM to get money to take me to lunch. It was late afternoon, and I was starving.
“I want to talk to Wilma, and instead of chasing her down, I thought we could catch her before she got off work.”
So much for lunch. “Sure. What time does that branch close on Saturday?”
“I think they close at one. But don’t the tellers have to balance their drawers? I think we may be able to get there in time to talk to her. If not, we can try her apartment. I’ve called her cell phone twice, but no answer.”
Now that was strange. The way that woman had flirted with Nick, I’d have thought she’d pick up in the middle of the first ring.
“Let’s roll. But can we get something to eat afterward? I’m starving.”
Nick put his arm over my shoulder. “Wherever you want to go, I’m buying.”
The feeling of his weight on my body felt good. It was the kind of weight I could handle. When the weight of the world is lifted, everything seems so much lighter in every way. I was sure my staff would be much happier to have me around. And I couldn’t wait until Jackie got home, so I could tell her the good news. I only wished everyone was happy.
But since Charles wasn’t answering his phone, I was hoping he was working things out with Anthony. Unlike Nick and me, Charles and Anthony had many years under their belts, and a lot to lose. So Anthony had cheated. It was a very big deal, but was it a deal breaker after everything they had together? Did they really want to give that all up and start over again?
Nick and I had been on and off for the last year, not even on solid ground, but I wouldn’t want to give it up and start all over. Granted, Nick hadn’t cheated on me, and I was the one with the baggage, but we were going to meet in the middle. Hopefully, after a late lunch, we’d be meeting in the middle of a bed somewhere. Hell, at this point, I’d even opt for the floor. Who was I kidding? I was comparing apples and oranges.
Not being able to get in contact with Charles bugged me just enough that I called the office.
“Gotcha Detective Agency, this is Uta, how can I help you?” She didn’t sound half her age over the phone, and so polite. I loved having her as our first line of representation.
“Uta, it’s Mimi. Have you heard from Charles this afternoon?”
“Actually, you just missed him. He came in and dropped off the keys to the company car and took off in his Spyder. Did you need him for something?” Her voice pleasant, but slightly concerned.
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Did he say where he was going?”
“No, but he seemed like he was in a hurry. He didn’t say a word, just dropped the keys on my desk and took off.”
“Thanks. I’ll try him on his cell again.” I started to hang up. “Uta, do we have GPS tracking on Charles’s Spyder?”
Uta said, “Usually we do. I keep putting it back on, but he finds it every time, and puts the tracker back on my desk.”
“Is it on his car now?”
“No. The tracker was one of the things he left along with the keys to the company car,” she said.
“Okay. Thanks again.” I hung up this time.
“What’s going on?” Nick asked as we made our way the few blocks to the bank.
“I left Charles at the house. He was still processing Anthony’s departure. I can’t believe he packed up all of his stuff and left, no note, nothing, just like that. Don’t you think he owes Charles more than that?”
“According to your end of the conversation, and what I could hear of Uta’s, Charles took off? Maybe he thinks he deserves an explanation?”
“I agree.” I stared out the windshield, my heart breaking for Charles.
I’d known him many years, but I’d never known this side of him. No one had ever left Charles. It had always been him breaking hearts. He’d already moved on before the door had closed on the previous relationship. I’m not sure Charles had ever been alone. When you looked like Charles, everyone wanted you on their arm, even if it was only for the night.
All of the years of monogamy may have cramped his style. Maybe he didn’t know how to be single again. Maybe he didn’t want to be. He tried to act like it was over, but I didn’t think he was ready to let go so easily, or he’d have kicked Anthony to the curb when he found out about the affair.
Charles had been smart enough to give me my space, now I’d give him his. He’d come to me when he was ready to talk. Until then, thank goodness I had Nick, because with Jackie gone, and Charles off the deep end, I had no one. Oh, how sad and pathetic did that sound?
We pulled into the parking lot of the bank, and there were only two cars left in the lot. Thank goodness one of them was Wilma’s. I’m not sure who the other car belonged to, but something was going on in there. The car was an older Ford Explorer, and it was rocking and swaying like it was dancing to a beat. And that beat looked a lot like there might be two people having sex in that car.
“Should we interrupt them?” I asked, as Nick pulled his Crown Vic up so close no one was exiting from the driver’s side of the vehicle.
“You’ll have to climb over and get out on my side if you want an up close and personal view of the Sexcapades.” He opened his door and got out, leaving the door open.
Hell yeah, I climbed over. I wasn’t going to miss this for the world. I had just gotten my feet in front of me and into the sitting position when I heard Nick knock hard on the back window of the Explorer.
“Hello, is everything okay in there? Do I need to call the police?”
I choked back a laugh. Oh, my God, this was going to be the death of me as I held my breath to keep from bursting out.
A man’s voice said, “No, no police. We’re fine. You can just go away.”
By now, I was standing. The windows were barely fogged over, but with the tint, we could only see shadows.
“How do I know everything is okay? You could be kidnapping a child. Rape, maybe.” Nick turned and winked at me.
Wilma said, “Not rape. I’m fine. Thank you, though.”
Then, with exaggerated surprise, Nick said, “Wilma? Is that you?”
Suddenly, there was a flurry of movement in the Explorer.
I whispered, “You got someone’s attention. They’re getting dressed.”
“Thank you for stating the obvious. I knew I brought you along for a reason.”
Wilma asked, “Who is that out there?”
Nick grinned like a Cheshire cat with the biggest mouse in the house. “Wilma, it’s me, Detective Nick Christianson.”
The man said, “Detective? Then why did you offer to call the police?”
“I’m a homicide cop. I don’t usually deal with indecent public exposure. That’s for the sex offender unit.”
Oh, he was good. Now he had this guy really scared.
“I wasn’t exposing anything in public.” He tried to open the driver’s side back door.
“You’ll have to get out on the passenger side, sir,” Nick said. “You, too, Wilma.”
Wilma had become a stammering idiot. Guaranteed she’d be lighting up as she exited the back seat of the Explorer. It was all I could do not to double over with laughter.
We waited and listened to the shuffling and grunting of two frustrated, embarrassed people getting dressed in a small space.
Wilma exited first, still barefooted, opening her purse, scrounging for a cigarette and lighter. She had the cigarette in her mouth and lit before she turned back into the car to get her shoes.
“You’re looking very well since we saw each other last,” Nick said.
Wilma blew out a long breath of smoke. “Save it, handsome.”
She finished putting on her leopard skin pumps and stood. The man scooted out of the back and to the edge of the seat.
“You’re Detective Christianson? I met, oh, what were their…”
“Parks and Criss,” I volunteered.
He buckled the leather belt on his brown slacks. “Yes, odd pair, those two.”
I looked him up and down. Who was he to call them odd? He was having sex in the back of his car at the end of a work shift.
“Mr. Jimenez, is it?”
“How do you know my name?” He slid back further into the car, as if he could make his getaway.
“I’m guessing,” Nick said. “So, Wilma works for you?”
That would make this Richard Jimenez. I was caught up now. “Aren’t you married?”
What the hell was it with married men? All this cheating and lying. Thank goodness I was no longer married; Dominic would probably have cheated on me by now.
“I’m sure you’re not here to talk about my sex life, so what do you want?” She wasn’t nearly as cozy with Nick with Richard sitting nearby.
“In a way, I am sort of interested in your sex life.” He pulled his notepad out of his pocket. “I’ve been looking into the murder of your daughter…”
“I should hope so, you’re a homicide detective.” Current cigarette down to the filter, she used it to light the next cigarette.
“If you don’t mind me saying so, you don’t seem all that upset about the loss of your daughter, Ms. Dahl,” Nick said.
Wilma glowered at him.
I couldn’t understand her hostility. I said, “I agree.”
She spat a piece of something from her lips. “We all process grief differently, dearie. I’ve had my share of grief, so I’ll deal with it however I please. Besides, it’s none of your fucking business.” She sucked in deep. “I like you less and less each time I see you. I think I’d like my key back.”
Not a problem. I reached into my handbag and grabbed the key. I got a quizzical look from Nick. Had I forgotten to mention it to him? Oops.
“Actually, I was speaking about Jane. The detective in Minneapolis mentioned that you lost your mother tragically, too. You’ve had a rough life, Wilma, and I’m wondering if there was ever a man to help you through the pain of it all.”
It was the first time I’d seen her at a loss for words. “Sure, there was a man. I had a father, when he was around. Had two kids, didn’t I?”
My chin almost scraped the pavement.
“Excuse me?” Nick must have thought he’d heard wrong, because I was sure I had, too.
“You heard me. My father was the father of my two girls. He was also the man who got my Jane hooked on smack.” She looked over at Richard, who looked like he was going to be sick.
“Wilma, why didn’t you tell this to the detectives in Minneapolis?” Nick had stopped scribbling down notes.
“They didn’t ask.” She shrugged.
Nick shook his head. “Forgive me for what I’m going to say. You may act stupid, but I know you aren’t. I’ve worked with people from all walks of life in this job. I see it in your eyes. You’re very smart. You have a good job at a bank. You dress well....” he looked her up and down, in a non-sexual way, “when you want, you speak well when you want, but you know how to dumb it down when needed. Do you even care that your daughters are dead?”
“Huh,” was her response.
“Is your father still alive?” He asked.
She shrugged and looked at the ground.
“Do you have brothers and sisters?”
Still looking at the ground, she shook her head.
“I’m trying to understand what’s going on here. Was your family poor? Because the detective I spoke with said you lived in an SRO in Minneapolis, but the apartment was spotless, not like the other SROs.”
She said nothing, and wouldn’t look up.
“Your employment history is sketchy--”
That snapped her out of it. Her head flew up. “What the hell are you doing investigating me? Looking into my employment history? Who gave you permission to snoop around in my life?”
Nick took a step to his left, and stood with a wider stance. “Your family, other than your father, who is unaccounted for and doesn’t exist as far as I know, have all died under violent circumstances. You are the common denominator. Of course I’m going to look into your history.”
“Well, look all you want. The only thing you’ll find is that I was a victim who refused to be a victim anymore, and learned to do what it takes to get out.” She pushed past me. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
Nick grabbed her lightly by the arm. “Not just yet. I’m not finished.” He looked at me and said, “Do you have that box?”
I pulled the box I’d gotten from Cortnie out of my purse and handed it to Nick.
Nick held it out to Wilma. “I have a lot more questions for you, but I’m sure Richard would like to go home. So if you could just answer this one. Do you know who would have given this to Lena?”
Richard jumped up out of the car. “Where did you get that?”
Nick turned to Richard. “Why does that matter to you?”
Richard backed off.
Wilma took the box. “I’ve never seen it before.” She opened the box and read the note.
I could tell by the look on her face that Nick had thrown shit into the proverbial fan.
Wilma’s head looked like the red bird on Angry Birds when you tapped your finger on the screen (in other words, it exploded). She threw the box on the ground and lunged at Richard. With the note still clutched in her nicotine stained fingers, she shook her fist at him. “You were fucking my daughter, too? You filthy son-of-a-mother-fucking-bitch!” Then she balled up her fist and punched him in the balls.
Richard doubled over, not expecting that Wilma had a one-two punch, when the knee to the nose came next.
And all I could think of was how appropriate her comments were at that very moment.
&n
bsp; As the blood dripped from Richard’s nose, no one came to his aid. He’d made his bed, and it was obvious Wilma was finished with her assault. She stood in front of him, sobbing.
“I can’t believe you did this to me. We had plans. We had plans. We had plans.” She kept saying through the snot and tears.
It was hard to feel sorry for either one of them, so Nick and I stood there, waiting for the moment to pass. Then Nick finally said, “Wilma, your records show that you have a passport. I’ll need you to surrender that passport. If you have it on you now, you can hand it to me, or I can follow you home and get it from you there.”
Wilma stalked back toward Richard, who hurt so badly he couldn’t even shrink away from her. She shoved him aside and grabbed her bag from the floor of the car and rummaged through it. Stomping back over to Nick, she shoved it at him and said, “Here, asshole.”
Amused, Nick asked, “Why am I an asshole?” He took the passport and opened it to be sure it was hers.
“You’ve completely ruined my life.” Wilma’s mascara had run down her cheeks, making her look like a member of KISS.
“All I’m trying to do is find out who killed your daughter.” Nick tucked the passport in his pocket. “Do you want me to call someone to give you a ride home?”
“I’ll be fine,” she whimpered.
“I’m sorry life’s dealt you so many short straws, Wilma. I hope that at least I’ll be able to find Lena’s killer and bring justice for at least one wrongdoing. Until then, go home, take a warm bath, and try to think good thoughts. Life can get better.”
She kicked at the loose gravel. “It hasn’t so far. I doubt it ever will.”
“It will,” I said.
She glared at me. Ouch.
“Okay. I’ll call you later. We’re headed out for a late lunch, but I’ll be at the station all night if you need me.”
Richard looked up. “Wait, you aren’t going to press charges?”
Nick grimaced at the blood running down Richard’s face. “For what?”
As I got in the driver’s side of Nick’s car and climbed over to the passenger seat, I heard Richard say, “Don’t leave me here alone with her.”
Bad Vice: Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery #5 (Gotcha Detective Agency Mysteries) Page 16