“Good afternoon.” The hostess smiled at him, and the crowd parted for Jimmy to go up to her. “It’s at least a thirty-minute wait. How many in your party?”
He wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he was scanning the faces for that one familiar…scowl. There it was. And he’d struck the lottery as Needham was in a small booth by himself.
“I’m with him.” Jimmy inconspicuously pointed toward Needham’s table.
The hostess followed the direction of Jimmy’s finger. “With Mr. Needham?” Her eyebrows shot up. Apparently, she knew the man—and his desire for privacy—well.
“Yes.”
She hesitated for a moment but ended up grabbing a menu from a box on the side of the host stand. She said, “Right this way.” Her tone was still incredulous, but she began to move toward Needham’s table.
Needham was sipping his coffee when they reached the table. His gaze caught Jimmy as he approached. The medical examiner lowered his cup slowly, and with each increment, it seemed as if his scowl deepened.
Jimmy plastered on a big grin and sat across from him. If he waited for an invitation, he’d be waiting all day. He’d never get one.
The hostess handed him the menu and left.
Needham was sitting back against the booth now, posture practically ramrod straight. Whatever would put the most distance between them, Jimmy suspected. But Needham was still here and hadn’t moved to get up.
Needham narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“Having lunch.” Jimmy smiled at him.
“Let me be clearer… Why are you at my table?”
Jimmy glanced over a shoulder toward the crowd at the front door. “It’s a busy place. I saw you sitting alone and figured it’s been a while since we’ve talked.”
Needham angled his head. “Why do I have a feeling there’s more to it than that?”
Under the examiner’s gaze, Jimmy sank into the booth. While he was determined to keep the interaction as light and friendly as possible, that didn’t stop the jumble of nerves twisting in his stomach. Adapting to life without the badge wasn’t coming easy, even though it had been almost two years. Being in front of Needham somehow reinforced this. But Needham’s disdain was for anyone who wasn’t him. Jimmy doubted the President would hold much sway with the medical examiner. Still, Jimmy’s questioning of Needham’s findings on more than one occasion hadn’t helped their relationship. “I was just hoping we could talk.”
“And you’re ruining my lunch for this, why?” Needham said curtly. “You could have made an appointment.”
“Would you have taken it?” Jimmy did his best to keep his tone nonconfrontational.
Needham pursed his lips and dipped his head slightly, his own kind of admission. “You’re a civilian now,” he stated with contempt.
“I’m a private investigator,” Jimmy corrected him, still careful not to provoke the man with his tone of voice.
Needham was staring blankly at Jimmy as if he hadn’t heard the rebuttal. But he had. His judgmental gaze confirmed as much.
It was best that Jimmy get on with it so he could get away from this man. “I wanted to—”
A waitress appeared next to the table. Her name tag read JENNA. “Would you like anything to drink?”
Jimmy smiled at her. “Water would be good, thanks.”
“I’ll be back in a minute with that and to take your order.” Jenna smiled back at him, and Jimmy soaked in as much of that friendliness as he could before facing Needham again. And it was a good thing he had. The ME had a hardened look in his eyes and a clenched jaw.
“Surely, you’re not staying,” Needham ground out.
It’s a public place, and we haven’t actually talked yet…
Jimmy cleared his throat. “I need to ask you about—”
“Here you go.” Jenna set a glass of water on the table and pulled out a notepad and pen from her apron. “What can I get you?”
He hadn’t even opened the menu, and he had no real intention of ordering. And since the cat was out of the bag with Needham… “I’m just visiting with my friend here for a few minutes.”
Jenna snatched the menu from him and left. She was out of smiles now that her hopes for a good tip from Jimmy were squashed.
“Friend?” Needham’s voice was drier than a desert.
He coaxed himself to ignore the snide comment and, instead, wave the proverbial white flag. “If you’d like to be.”
“Not particularly.” Needham wrapped his hand around his mug. “What is it that I can do for you?”
“Chloe Parsons—”
What could best be described as a smile stretched Needham’s thin lips even thinner. “That’s an open case. The autopsy was just conducted this morning.”
“We’re investigating the situation surrounding her death.”
Needham’s eyes glazed over. “As I said, that’s an open case. If you’re looking for information surrounding her death, then I’d suggest that you speak with the officers assigned to the case.”
Jimmy stamped down his growing rage. Needham always had a way of pushing his buttons. It was a good thing this man spent most of his hours with the dead; otherwise, the living would threaten his lifespan. But if Jimmy was going to get anywhere with the ME, he needed to keep his cool.
He met Needham’s gaze. “My apologies, I misspoke. We’re looking for cause of death.”
“Ah, now it makes more sense why you’d come to me.” The scowl had been replaced with a confusing attempt at a resting smile. It was another familiar expression for the medical examiner, and it always meant the same thing: he was gloating.
Jimmy had the urge just to leave. He was too old to put up with this man’s attitude, yet here he was, toeing the line between pride and surrender. What he wouldn’t do for Sean and Sara…
His palms grew sweaty as the anger bubbled up, and he had to tuck his hands beneath the table or he’d be tempted to lash out and strike the man. Sometimes it was better to bite one’s tongue and keep quiet, and this had to be one of those times because all that was racing through Jimmy’s mind were profanities.
“I’d just completed the autopsy before leaving for lunch,” Needham said, thankfully providing a detour for Jimmy’s temper. “I haven’t even briefed the lead detective yet.”
“I won’t let them know you told me first.” Jimmy hated that he could hear the pleading in his own voice. “Who’s the lead?”
Needham shook his head and held up an index finger and swayed it side to side as if scolding a child.
“She was a young woman with people who cared about her, and they want answers.” Jimmy was baiting the hook with a guilt trip, but Needham wasn’t biting.
“They all want answers.” He casually took a sip of his coffee. “And they will get them through the regular process.” There was a flicker in his eyes and a slight change in his inflection. “You are a fully licensed PI?”
“I am.” Jimmy shifted his weight to his left hip to get his license from his right pocket.
Needham held up a hand. “I will take your word for it.” He sighed. “She died of heart failure.”
Now that he had his answer, it seemed like it had come too easily. Wasn’t that always the way, though, when it came to seeking something and attaining it?
“Huh.” Jimmy sank back into the bench and tapped his fingers on the table.
Needham’s gaze flicked down and then up to meet Jimmy’s again. “Nothing to say?”
“Just a little surprised, I guess. I mean, given her age and all.”
“Age has very little to do with it, unfortunately. Children younger than Miss Parsons have had heart failure.”
Jimmy was well aware that no one was exempt from the two certainties of life, death and taxes, but it became harder to accept when the former took the young. “What caused the heart failure?”
“That is going to take longer to determine, but there could be any number of factors.”
“Name one,” Jimmy
shot back.
“Natural causes, drug overdose, poisoning, to name a few.”
“And in Miss Parsons’s case, what—in your expert opinion—caused her heart failure?” When all else failed, he always pulled out flattery to keep the gums flappin’.
“In my expert opinion,” Needham said, “I believe a toxicology panel must be run.”
And that would take time. A week, minimum, for everything to come back. Jimmy knew the process well. In that period, if the heart failure had been induced on purpose, the killer would be roaming free.
“Do you have any reason to believe it was a homicide?” Jimmy asked.
“I’ll reserve making a decision in that regard until I have—”
“The tox panel back,” Jimmy surmised.
“That’s right. Now, I will share one other thing with you…”
Jimmy found himself leaning in, then reined himself back. No sense in showing just how eager he was.
“There was—” Needham abruptly stopped speaking when Jenna came to the table with his order. It was a Swiss on rye with alfalfa sprouts. Of course.
“Do you have everything you need?” The waitress kept her gaze on Needham, and Jimmy sensed she was intentionally ignoring him.
“I’m fine, thank you.” Needham’s voice was a barely discernible mumble.
Once Jenna walked away, Jimmy prompted Needham back to the topic at hand. “You were saying? ‘There was’…?”
“Ah, yes, you had asked about homicide. I don’t like to speculate, but I will tell you that there was no sign of forced entry at her apartment and she might have been drinking.” Needham picked up half his sandwich. “They found an open bottle of white wine.” He took a big bite of his food.
“And if she had too much alcohol, that could cause heart failure, couldn’t it?”
Needham nodded and swallowed what looked like a rodent going down the throat of a snake. “Yes.” Needham took a sip of water. He probably needed it to wash down the dry sandwich. “But other than her failed heart, the girl struck me as quite healthy. However, her organs showed—” Needham stopped. “I’ve said too much already.”
“It’s all good. Please continue.”
“I’m sorry. This has nothing to do with you being a PI and not with PD. I just don’t like theorizing. I prefer to wait for all the facts to come in.”
Jimmy scanned Needham’s eyes, and he’d lost him. Jimmy wasn’t going to get anything else out of the ME today, but given how the man had clammed up, Jimmy was pretty sure Needham had a good idea what had caused the heart failure. The word fishy came to mind again.
“Thank you for everything,” Jimmy said. “If you would be willing to call after the toxicology results are back or when you have more information, I’d appreciate it.” He set his card on the table.
Needham glanced down at the card but didn’t make a move to pick it up.
“Yeah, well…” Jimmy got up and placed a twenty on the table.
Needham looked at him with a quizzical expression.
“It’s the least I can do for interrupting your lunch,” Jimmy said and left without a backward glance.
-
Chapter 10
DREADING THE “BOO”
SEAN CLOSED THE DOOR BEHIND Marie and didn’t want to face Sara. How was he going to stress to her that he wasn’t yet convinced that they were looking at a murder here without upsetting her? He knew honesty was the best policy, but if he just came out with his thoughts, it would be far too harsh. And it pained him to see disappointment in his wife’s eyes. After all, he’d waited far too long to be with her in the first place, and now that he had her, his primary goal was to make her happy. But at the price of silence? At the sacrifice of other cases that may need their attention more than this one did? It wasn’t as if Chloe’s case had been closed.
He took a deep breath and turned around. “The police are still investigating this case, Sara. Her body was just found yesterday.” He’d tacked on the last sentence off the cuff, and with the straight set of Sara’s lips now, he wished he could reel it back in.
She shook her head. “We know how the system works. We know how to work around it,” she added. “We also know that sometimes there are limitations that hinder the police, and they’re ones we’re not affected by.”
He assumed she was alluding to budget constraints and manpower. “I don’t know. Why don’t we leave this one to the police?” He presented his proposition as respectfully as possible. “We have other cases that need our help.”
“As you’ve pointed out multiple times…”
And there it was: the disappointment etched into her expression. It stabbed at his heart.
He walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “This means a lot to you; I can see that.”
“It does,” she said. Light sparked in her eyes, bringing back the vitality he loved so much.
It seemed all those other cases would have to wait awhile longer… “And you mean a lot to me, so I will agree to work on this case as long as it doesn’t end up pitting us against the Albany PD.”
Sara smiled at him as she got to her feet. She put her arms around his neck, and the sweet smell of her honeysuckle shampoo teased his nose and—
He sneezed.
“Bless you.” Sara chuckled.
“Wowzers.” He shook his head. Sneezes tickled his brain.
“You meant what you said about going ahead with the case?” she asked, serious now.
Peering into her beautiful chocolate eyes, there was no going back. “I did.”
“Thank you, Sean.” She kissed him gently on the mouth. “Now, I’ve been thinking about potential suspects. And at this point, I’d say the strongest one is Jackson. But something about him killing her doesn’t feel right.”
“I don’t think we should rule him out just yet. He was upset by her death, but that could also be an expression of regret.”
“Well, I suppose he did find the body,” she consented.
Sara’s statement made Sean wonder how Jimmy was making out with Needham and the cause of death.
“It would be nice to know how she died. Hopefully Jimmy’s able to get Needham to talk,” Sara said, as if reading his mind. “Now that we’ve committed to investigating Chloe’s death, though, let’s get Adam looking into her online presence.”
He nodded. “Makes sense.”
What was that phrase? In for a dime, in for a dollar?
“We need to find out if she had any haters or stalkers,” Sara went on. “She was a media personality. We also need to reconstruct her day. Did she go straight home from the station or stop somewhere along the way? Did she meet up with anyone?” She rattled off a bunch of questions that needed answers.
“Chloe died in her home. While it’s possible that whatever caused her death was put into her system before she got there, it seems just as likely that it happened in her apartment.” He was thinking as he spoke. “From Jackson’s testimony, we can rule out an altercation, and no blood was found at the scene.”
“So that leaves poison or drugs, most likely,” Sara offered.
“Uh-huh. And the door was locked when Jackson showed up, so if either were administered in her apartment, she would have let her killer in.” He met Sara’s gaze.
“So it’s likely we can rule out stalkers,” Sara said, her brow furrowed.
His thoughts turned to a dark but all-too-common reality. It was one that Sara had pointed out to Marie. “It was probably someone she knew and trusted.”
She nodded. “We’ll need access to her apartment. Test the food and drinks she had there.”
“They probably have the place cordoned off still. Before we rush to that, I’d like to see how Jimmy made out. I suggest we talk to the station manager down at Your Source, too. We can get a feel for his relationship with Chloe and find out who was given the promotion she had wanted.” Maybe they could weed out suspects or uncover something else useful in the process.
“We should
also ask if Chloe had been working on any other exposés before she died.” Sara’s gaze took on a deep intensity. “When you asked Marie if she knew of anyone who might have killed her sister, her immediate response was about Chloe hating her job.” She punched out the last part as if she had a revelation.
“And when a person feels trapped in a dead-end job they hate,” Sean said, “what do they do?”
She smiled. “They either suck it up and settle, or they get work elsewhere.”
“If Chloe did have a job offer, though, her sister knew nothing about it,” he countered. “I’d say from our conversation with Jackson, he wasn’t aware of one, either.”
“It still doesn’t mean that wasn’t the case. Think about it. Her getting a job offer could have caused a lot of strong emotions. The person who was overlooked could be jealous.”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe the manager who didn’t want to lose his star community-news reporter to the competition.”
-
Chapter 11
FROM THE GRAVE
HELEN HAD ARRANGED A MEETING for Sean and Sara with Kurt Bishop at one o’clock, and it was 12:45 when Sean pulled into the station’s lot. They still hadn’t heard from Jimmy, and Sara wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was he having success or brooding somewhere?
Sean’s phone rang over Bluetooth, and Jimmy’s name came up on the dashboard screen.
“I was just thinking about him,” Sara said.
“Jimmy, talk to us,” Sean answered. “How did you make out with Needham?”
There were a few seconds of silence on the other end, and Sara looked over at Sean. This conversation wasn’t off to a good start.
Sean parked the car as Sara asked, “Did he tell you anything?”
“Yes and no,” Jimmy responded with definite frustration in his voice.
“Cause of death?” Sara was hoping he’d gotten at least that out of the examiner.
Halloween Is Murder Page 6