by Breena Wilde
The twelve year old in me wanted to say, Take a picture it lasts longer, but I resisted.
“You seem to really care about Birdy. And I’ve read your file. I know you graduated top of your class from Harvard. Why don’t you have a job yet?”
Well wasn’t that the two million dollar question. “I haven’t found the right place yet,” I finally replied.
“I see. Where have you applied? And excuse my French, but why the fuck haven’t you applied at the firm where I work? You’re obviously tight with Birdy. I’m sure you could get a job there regardless of your credentials.”
I cleared my throat. I didn’t need to explain myself to him. It was none of his damn business.
“I’m waiting.” He crossed one leg over the other, the picture of a confident man who always got what he wanted.
“I don’t want to work for Birdy’s dad. I-I…” I wiped away some nonexistent dust from my pants.
“You what? Don’t want to be a lawyer?”
I glared. Upset he was making me voice the truth. “I don’t want to get a job based on who I know. I want a job based on my merit.”
He snorted. “You’re naïve. There are a thousand hungry lawyers vying for a job right now. Merit doesn’t mean shit. In this business,” he paused and shook his head. “In any business it’s who you know over what you know. It’s a fact. That you know Jonathon Bird is huge. Most guys would give their left nut to have the in you do. Use it, for God’s sake.”
The limo pulled out of traffic and in front of Gaston’s Bakery. I’d eaten a pastry from here once and still remembered how delicious it was. There was a line outside the store and down the block.
“Mr. Devereux, did you want me to go in?”
“No, thank you, Emmett. I’ll do it.” Cage gave me a hard look. “Think about what I’ve said.” He got out. I watched him walk past the line. The smell of sugar and cinnamon permeated the air, making my mouth water. I really was hungry. Griffin and I had burned a lot of calories last night.
One of Gaston’s employees saw Cage coming and held the door open for him. He patted the kid on the shoulder, obviously thanking him, and walked in.
Some guy was talking about the Rangers game. I blocked him out and thought about what Cage had said. Would it be better to get a job I didn’t deserve because I knew Birdy’s dad? It seemed unfair, but maybe that wasn’t the way to look at it. I hadn’t sought out Birdy and become friends with her to get ahead. She wasn’t like a sister to me so that I could use her as a means to get to her father. I loved her and always would. It didn’t matter if I never became a lawyer. Maybe I should submit my resume. At least that part of my life plan could continue. Right?
Cage came out of the bakery holding a white box tied with brown string. Several of those in line gave him dirty looks. Cage ignored them and got in the limo. The aroma that immediately filled the air nearly made me cry. It smelled so good my mouth began to water.
He seemed to notice. “Want one?” He opened the box and pulled out a lobster claw. It was covered with a thin layer of sugar.
“Yes,” I said, taking it from his outstretched hand.
Cage knocked on the window between the back and front. It came down. “Take one,” Cage insisted.
“Thank you, Mr. Devereux,” the driver said, pulling a claw from the box.
“Of course. And as soon as you can, let’s get to that address I gave you.”
“Right away.” I watched the driver shove half the lobster claw in his mouth. Then he put the limo in drive and eased into traffic. Cage took one for himself, taking a bite.
I took a bite of mine and nearly cried. The pastry melted in my mouth. It was so soft, yet crisp. Gaston’s really had the best pastries.
We ate in silence. Cage ate three and offered me another, which I declined. He let the driver have it.
When we pulled in front of Reid’s apartment building, Cage climbed out first and then stuck out his hand to help me.
“Thank you,” I said.
He laughed, wiping a chunk of sugar from the side of my mouth with his thumb.
“How embarrassing.” I looked away.
“You mean delicious, don’t you?” He stuck his thumb in his mouth and sucked. It was as though his mouth was elsewhere, and a shot of desire pulsed between my thighs. He walked toward the apartment doors. I stayed behind, taking a deep breath. Fucking lost my mind.
Flinging my purse onto my shoulder, I followed Cage. He was already speaking to the doorman. The guy in the green and gold suit was a few inches taller than Cage, maybe six foot four but a lot wider. He reminded me of a freezer.
“Have you seen this woman?” In one hand was a picture of Birdy.
The doorman took the photo. “You cops?”
“No,” Cage said. “Worse, I’m this woman’s attorney.” He pointed at the picture. “And this is her best friend, Katie.” Cage indicated me.
“Hi,” I said, shocked Cage hadn’t called me Dandelion.
“I told the cops everything I know.”
“Can you tell us too? We want to help her.”
The man seemed guarded. He shrugged. “She’s been here before. A few times.”
That surprised me.
“And were you working last night?” Cage went on.
“Yeah. She was here last night. I buzzed her up for Reid.”
“I see. And what time was that?”
“Like I told the cops, I don’t know the exact time, but I’m guessing about nine-thirty.”
“Anyone else come in after her?”
“Sure, man. This is an apartment building.” He snorted.
“Right. Anyone look out of place?”
“This is New York City. No one looks out of place.”
Cage smiled when the doorman handed back the picture of Birdy. On the inside of his wrist were three numbers tattooed in black. “Did some time in the Army, huh?” Cage asked, indicating the man’s wrist.
“Yeah, man. That’s right. What you know?”
“Ex Delta Force.”
That explained his short hair and uptight personality.
“Right on.” The man visibly loosened up. “You out for good?”
Cage glanced back at me. “Yeah, a bum knee took me from my brothers.”
“Sorry, man.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Harley. If you need anything, let me know.”
Cage nodded, shaking Harley’s hand. “Mind if we take a look upstairs?”
Harley opened the door. “I’m not supposed to, but no one is up there now. Don’t touch nothing and hurry.”
“You got a deal,” Cage said, patting Harley on the shoulder as he walked by.
Harley tipped his hat to me and smiled. I returned the smile, thinking that man probably knew more about Reid, like what kinds of women he’d buzzed up, and how many, and who. He was probably a wealth of information. Sometime soon I’d have to come back and talk to him by myself.
CHAPTER 7
Katie
When we got up to Reid’s, Cage went under the yellow tape and into his apartment. I closed the door after I did the same. It was deathly quiet, the only sound the ticking of the large silver clock over the fireplace.
Cage was bent over the pools of blood. I noticed yellow sticky tags on the floor and the wall, and realized they marked specks of blood.
“It looks like he was shot from behind.” Cage stood and walked over to the landing leading up to Reid’s bedroom. He had his hand pointed like that of a gun and backed up. “The killer probably stood here.” He went up the landing and disappeared into Reid’s bedroom.
I went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. There wasn’t much inside: beer, cheese, yogurt, a pound of hamburger, a bottle of unopened white wine, and a red pepper. I turned and glanced into the living room. The layout was open. From the front door you could see past the living room and into the kitchen and vice versa. I could see the door from where I stood.
The living room was decorated in chic minimalist. Th
ere was a large flat screen TV on the same wall as the front door. Across from the TV stood a silver coffee table and then a white couch. There were four black pillows on the couch. I knew there should be five because I’d purchased them with Reid.
On either side of the couch were matching silver end tables. Behind the couch was a row of black candles. They rested on a sofa table.
Something was under the couch. I went over and bent to see what it was. A rope. Before I could pick it up, Cage shouted, “Don’t touch anything.”
I pulled my hand back like I’d been burnt. “Sorry. It’s just a rope,” I said.
He bent down, pulled some plastic gloves from his pocket and put them on, then picked up the rope. “Does this look like something Reid would use?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea,” I said. “But I doubt it.”
“Then it could be evidence. We don’t want to tamper with possible prints.” He put the rope in his brief case and stood. “Anything else look out of place?”
“There’s only four pillows on the couch. I know he purchased five because I was with him.”
Cage nodded. “That makes sense. There was a pillow placed into evidence. It’s in the report.”
“Okay.”
Cage walked over to the remote sitting on the coffee table and used it to turn on the TV. A basketball game was on. He pushed a button. Two women were in the throws of some very moany sex. “Interesting,” Cage said, turning off the TV.
“Really?” I asked. “Why’s that?”
“Maybe no reason. Just another aspect of his life we can check into.”
“His TV habits?”
“Yeah. If we want to catch the real killer, we need to turn over every rock, right?”
That surprised me. He was a lawyer. Most just wanted to prove their client didn’t do it… at least beyond a reasonable doubt. His method seemed to go along with my way of thinking. I wanted to find out who actually killed Reid and why. But I hadn’t shared that information with anyone.
“Why?” I asked, wanting to ask so much more.
Cage moved up the landing to Reid’s office.
“I like knowing the whole story. It’s unorthodox, but my way gets results.”
“Is Jonathon Bird okay with that?”
Cage gave me a serious look. “He hired me, knowing the way I worked, so I’m going to say yes. He’s never once told me not to do it my way.”
“Huh.” Apparently Jon Bird was an arrogant ass, but he was also smart. Maybe I wouldn’t mind working for him after all. I followed Cage into Reid’s office. It was small but functional. Built in black shelves lined the top half of the wall to my left. It was filled with books. The bottom half held a counter with cupboards underneath. A shiny black desk and chair stood in the center of the room. Behind it was a window covered by thick black drapes. A sweet stench permeated the room. I guessed it came from the opened box of cigars sitting on the desk.
Cage picked one up and smelled it.
“You like cigars?” I asked.
“I like the smell. They remind me of my grandfather.”
“It looks like someone took his computer. It was sitting right here.” I touched the empty spot and then walked over to the bookshelf, perusing his library without really seeing.
“According to the police report they took a computer into evidence.”
“Figured.” I pulled a copy of Moby Dick from the shelf and flipped through the pages.
“Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Reid?”
The question caught me off guard. I closed the book and returned it to its place on the shelf. “Besides me, no. But then I’m beginning to realize I didn’t really know the man.”
“Oh?” Cage came to stand beside me. His hands were tucked into his front pants pockets.
I sighed, picked up another classic, and flipped through the pages. “I was his fiancée. We were going to be married. If anyone should’ve known him, it would be me. But I didn’t know him at all.” I put the book back.
Cage watched me. It was a little disconcerting. “How do you know you didn’t know him?”
I laughed. The question perfectly summed up the way I felt about Reid—confused. I crossed my arms and met Cage’s gaze. His eyes were amazing. “A few weeks ago I went to The Attic with Birdy. Reid was there… with another woman. They weren’t just talking, if you catch my meaning.”
Cage grunted and nodded.
“I threw his engagement ring at him that night. The next morning he showed up at my apartment. He was upset. Brian, the guy Birdy hooked up with, told him to leave and he did. But later on I got a call from Reid’s lawyer saying he was suing me for personal injury.”
Cage raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yeah, when I threw the ring at him, it hit his cheek and cut him. It wasn’t bad. Not much more than a scratch. Plus I saw him the next morning and it was small. But the lawyer claimed he was getting stitches. I figured he was just being an ass. Trying to get back at me for hurting him. No one messes with Reid and gets away with it.”
“Until now.”
“Yeah,” I said softly.
“Sounds like a scare tactic,” Cage went on, opening a cabinet and looking inside.
“That’s what I figured. So I decided to do some of my own digging on Reid.”
“Really?” That seemed to pique his interest. “What did you find?”
I went over to the chair behind Reid’s desk and sat. “More than I ever expected.”
Cage leaned against the door. “What?”
I rested my head in my hands. “I have a thick file, if you want to see it.”
“Fuck yeah,” he said, putting a hand out for me to take. “Come on, let’s check the bedroom. Maybe something there will be out of place as well.”
I froze. “I won’t be able to help you out,” I finally said, standing and ignoring his hand.
“Really? You’re telling me you were engaged to the man but didn’t engage in… bedroom activities.” He studied me carefully.
“He’d told me he wanted to wait until we were married.” I walked out of the office and into Reid’s bedroom. It was like looking at a stranger’s room. I’d only been inside once, and that was when Reid gave me the grand tour of his place. It was a long time ago.
“So you and Reid never…” His voice trailed off.
“Nope. Thank god. Reid was into a lot of shit, and it’s highly unlikely he was careful.”
“I see,” Cage said, coming to stand beside me. He was so close I could feel the heat coming off him. “Well I’d love to get a look at what you’ve found.”
I turned to face him.
“If the two of us work together, I’m sure we can get Birdy’s murder charges dropped. Deal?” He stuck out his hand again.
This time I took it. He gave my hand a warm squeeze and I felt it all the way down to my toes. “Deal,” I said, walking out of the bedroom. “Is there anything else we should look for?”
“No, I think we’re done.” He walked to the front door and held it open for me. I went under the yellow tape and into the hall. Cage followed.
After the door was shut, he glanced both ways down the hall. To the left was the elevator. To the right were more apartments and the door that led to the stairs. “What’s behind that door?” he asked, heading toward it.
“The stairs,” I said.
“Let’s take them down.” He pushed open the heavy metal door and we walked down. The stairs were concrete, the railing metal. Our feet echoed as we walked down.
When we got to the bottom floor there were three doors. One led out to the garage, another led to the front desk, and the third went outside. Cage opened them all, then chose the one that led us outside. It was an alley and smelled like rotting trash. There was a white van parked in front of the door. A man in jeans and a tee shirt loaded boxes of candy onto a dolly.
“You mind holding the door for me, my man?” he asked Cage.
“Sure.” Cage held open th
e door while the guy when through.
When the door closed, Cage said, “A service entrance. Interesting.” He looked up and I followed his gaze. There was a camera over the door. The lens faced down. “I wonder if the police took the surveillance tapes?” He checked the file. “It says there weren’t any. That a tape hadn’t been installed.” He smiled. “I think we just caught our first break. I’m going to go talk to the security guy. Wanna come?”
I shook my head. “I’d better go home and grab Birdy’s suit and stuff for tomorrow.”
“Cool. But I want to see what you have on Reid. I was going to hit The Attic tonight. Want to meet me there? I can tell you want the security guy said and you can show me what you’ve got.”
“Okay,” I said, ignoring my rapidly beating heart. I wasn’t sure if it was because that meant I’d see Griffin tonight or because I’d get to see Cage again.
He checked his watch. “I’ll see you at ten?”
“All right.”
“See ya, Dandelion.” Before I could yell at him to stop calling me that, he disappeared back inside the apartment building.
I walked down the alley and hailed a cab.
CHAPTER 8
Griffin
The Attic wouldn’t open for an hour still. Me and the guys had practiced a few songs. I thought about sharing the lyrics to the song I was writing for Katie, but decided to wait.
“Group meeting,” I said when we finished the last song. I walked to the end of the stage and picked up my shirt. As I pulled it on the guys stowed their instruments. I hopped off the stage and went over to the nearest table.
Nancy, one of the waitresses, brought us over a round of drinks, ice water with lemon slices. I took a long drink while I waited for the rest of the band to come over. The cold liquid felt good on my throat and I sucked the glass dry, then shook it, letting Nancy know I was empty.
She quickly came back with another. “You sounded great,” she said, picking up the empty glass and setting it on her tray.
“Thanks, Nance.”
She winked and walked away.
I swallowed the water as I watched her walk. She rolled her hips as though she knew my eyes were on her. I couldn’t help but smile. Nancy was a beautiful woman, tall and thin with breasts only the plastic surgery gods could bestow. Tonight she had on black shorts to emphasize her long, lean legs and a red tank top that showed off her endowments. Her curly red hair was piled on her head.