Poker Face

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Poker Face Page 5

by Noelle Winters


  He frowned at the papers around him. “Is it urgent?”

  Liv shook her head. “I was in town, so I figured I would ask.” She smiled, reassuring.

  He looked relieved. “How’s she doing?”

  “Today’s a good day.” Peter was one of the few who knew her grandma’s real state. Gram was as private as her mother had been, and that sense of privacy ran deep in her marrow. Her family was hiding in plain sight. She quickly decided to change the subject. “Hey, did Cairo leave her phone behind when she was last here?”

  Confusion was clear on his face. “Cairo?”

  “When she came to talk to you about the thing?” Liv wasn’t sure how vaguely she could phrase it.

  “I haven’t seen Cairo in quite some time.” Peter’s face softened. “I was sorry to hear about her death, though.” He frowned at Liv. “Was something going on?”

  Liv hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  Peter’s gaze was still half wary, half confused. “I’ll let you know once I find that copy of your Gram’s will but if you need anything, let me know.”

  Liv nodded, a half-smile on her face. “I will.”

  She left Peter’s office with more questions than answers.

  7

  Thursday 29th September; 9pm

  “You’ll do as you’re told and that’s that.” He hissed the words, his gaze as venomous as his speech.

  She shrunk back against the wall, her face turned away from him. “But -”

  He slapped her, and she slid to the floor, clutching her face.

  “Do it. Or you know what I’ll do.” He tapped the envelope that was tucked securely in his pocket. It wasn’t the actual evidence he had, no. It was just a symbol of it, that he could flaunt in her direction.

  She sat there, utterly broken.

  Good. It was just how he liked them. “Get out of my sight.” He gestured to the back room. Silently, the well-dressed woman scampered out of sight without looking back.

  He sat at the table, knocked back a drink and looked in the direction she had gone. Slammed the glass of scotch on the table so hard it shattered. Stupid! How could she have been seen? She had risked everything. He scowled at the remnants of the scotch and glass as if it had answers. Murdering her whole family would take time. He’d have to hire the right person, secure the right alibi.

  It was more mess than he cared to deal with. Then there was that snoopy policewoman who was flitting around Cairo’s body like an annoying gnat. They hadn’t publically declared it a suicide, not yet. That worried him.

  Or as much as it could, anyway. There was already a plan in place. If only the police would wise up and figure it out sooner. He’d been careful. He had covered his tracks, and no one would be able to connect them. That was the benefit to being an underground organization.

  He logged into his secure computer, disconnected from the internet, and updated his information. The alert on the side of the screen still blinked, and in disgust he turned it off and slid it to the side. He wasn’t a hacker, but like all crime bosses, he knew someone who knew one. When he had ordered the computer, he’d had the hacker put all sorts of protections on it.

  That included an alert if someone copied files on it, or moved anything to an external drive. He didn’t keep all of his secure information on the computer, but enough of it that someone who knew about his business could put the pieces together.

  Cairo had been too dangerous to let live. And there were other loose ends to take care of, before the whole thing began to unravel. Most important was the flash drive. Whatever she had copied the information onto needed to be found and destroyed, before it fell into the wrong hands. He had security measures in place, but even they weren’t perfect.

  No one was.

  He swirled the glass around in his hand, staring at the amber liquid. Then he finished it, and put the glass on top of his laptop. He never liked killing people.

  But he was very good at it.

  8

  Friday 30th September; 8am

  Ryan’s mind was spinning in circles as they stood not far from Elliot the ME, who was gowned up like an alien. Autopsies were a messy business. They also weren’t Ryan’s favorite bit of detective work.

  She turned away and smeared some peppermint oil underneath her nose, trying not to inhale too deeply until it was on. It at least took the edge off the odor of death and decay, the coppery stench of blood. Then she turned back to Elliot, who was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

  “It works.” Ryan smiled ruefully.

  “What have you found?” Dane was the one who asked. He had a notebook and pen out, ready to write things down.

  “The hyoid bone in the neck is broken, which is a classic sign of hanging or strangulation.” Elliot pointed to the neck.

  Ryan looked away, willing her queasy stomach to chill. She’d seen at least ten autopsies and still couldn’t stand the smell or the appearance. “Suicide?” She kept her eyes firmly on Elliot.

  Elliot let out a sigh. “Hard to say,” she said. “Classic signs of a hanging. Whether she hung herself or someone else hung her? I’m not sure yet.”

  “What can we do to help?” This was something Ryan was particularly interested in. It was the difference between a suicide and a homicide.

  “I’m calling it undetermined for now. I also have to wait on toxicology reports. If someone else hung her, there’s probably a drug in her system since I don’t see any signs of blunt force trauma.” Elliot pointed to the head, which was intact. No blood was found in her hair.

  Ryan wrinkled her nose. “Could she have been strangled manually?”

  “Normally there would be some bruising on the neck.” Elliot pointed to the relevant mark. “This is more consistent with a rope versus hands, but it is possible she was manually strangled or strangled with a ligature that was covered up with the rope.”

  Ryan stared at her. “So you’re basically saying she died but we don’t have any idea whether or not she did it.”

  “Yup.” Elliot’s face was grim. She knew the implications of her findings as well as the homicide detectives did.

  Ryan went to scrub her gloved hand over her face and stopped, trying not to gag at the thought. At least she wasn’t covered in anything. “I have the phone and financial records coming in hopefully this afternoon.”

  “That’s a good start.” Dane nodded.

  “We should probably check her house and computer for any evidence of searches about suicide, or depression.” Ryan was speaking as a stream of consciousness now, not stopping to censor herself. “Interview more friends and family. I talked to her mother yesterday. Nothing was out of the norm.”

  “Nothing at all?” Dane looked dismayed.

  “Cairo was a pretty quiet person, apparently.” It matched what Ryan knew about her from high school. “Thanks, Elliot.”

  Elliot nodded, sewing up the autopsy cuts. “I’ll let you know when we get pathology and toxicology back.”

  Ryan and Dane nodded to her before they headed out of the autopsy suite, shedding their protective clothing as they did so. She took a deep breath as soon as they were outside, enjoying the fresh air that wasn’t scented with cadavers.

  “It’s not that bad,” Dane pointed out.

  “Not all of us have noses of steel,” Ryan retorted.

  “It could be a suicide,” Dane said, drawing her attention back to the case.

  “It could,” Ryan reluctantly admitted. “But I think we need to look into it more before we make that decision.”

  “What about your missing persons case?” He waved a hand. “That teen girl.”

  Guilt swamped Ryan momentarily, but it washed away. That was how it worked sometimes in law enforcement, one case got put to the side to make way for another. “We’re closing in on 48 hours on this case. I want to solve it.” Not that it would stop her from taking the file home and working in her free time.

  You know, all the free time she had when she wasn’t working eight
een hour days. She had to force herself to take time off, even if she didn’t want to. Passing out wasn’t worth it.

  “What did you think of the Mom and cousin?” Ryan kept her voice nonjudgmental, curious to see if Dane had picked up on what she had.

  “Mom doesn’t like the fiancé, that’s for sure.” Dane snorted.

  “What about the cousin?”

  “Did she grow up here?” Dane looked at her for that one.

  Ryan searched her memory as far back as it went. “I don’t think so.” She didn’t ever remember Cairo mentioning a cousin, but her memory only went so far back and maybe Veronica was a distant cousin.

  Ryan’s phone rang, drawing her attention. “Hello?”

  “This is Mary-Beth, from the front desk. There’s a man here with legal papers for you?” It was the front-desk secretary at the department.

  “Who?” Ryan was a bit baffled.

  “His name is Steven, he says it relates to a case of yours?”

  Ah. “I’ll be there in a sec.” Ryan hung up the phone and turned to Dane. “Steven’s here with some papers.”

  “What type?” Dane was curious.

  “We’ll find out,” Ryan said wryly.

  Friday 30th September; 11am

  When they arrived at the department, Steven was sitting in the waiting room, a cheap folder clasped in his hands. “This is everything I have on the lawsuit.”

  Ryan took the manila folder, a bit concerned about how skinny it was. “No other records?”

  Steven’s gaze seemed distant. “She didn’t keep a lot of that stuff at home.”

  Ryan nodded, thinking. “Did she have an office?”

  “I don’t know.” Steven exhaled, and his shoulders sank a few inches. He seemed more hollow, defeated, than he had when they were at his business. Was there a reason for that?

  “You okay?” Ryan asked cautiously. She was better in these situations, and Dane let her take the lead.

  Wordlessly he took a note out of his inside coat pocket and handed it to them.

  Who knew what bombshell it was going to contain. Ryan opened it, and pulled out the photo. It was Cairo with another young man, with long, ratty hair and a broken smile. They had their arms around each other and were very clearly comfortable with each other, that border between casual and intimate.

  “Look at the date.” Steven pointed to the back of the car.

  “It’s from two weeks ago.” Ryan couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. “But that’s -”

  “Charles, yes. Her ex-boyfriend.”

  “When did you find this?” Ryan looked at him, her eyes sharp. Had he gone searching his house when they had dropped by? Or had he searched Cairo’s house?

  “It was in a book she lent me.” He sighed. “I found it when Olivia dropped by.”

  Ryan’s mind screeched to a halt. “What?”

  “Olivia Evans,” Steven repeated. “She brought by some casseroles or something, and I don’t have potholders, so I used a book. When I picked it up, the photo fell out.”

  Ryan wanted to smash her hand into her face and sigh in exasperation, but she would have been lying if she said she was surprised. For all Liv was an incredibly closed book, she had a habit of getting into situations that she shouldn’t. It was unusual, though, that she had taken such interest in a murder investigation.

  “Did she say anything?” Ryan asked, keeping her voice casual. “About the case?”

  Steven looked thoughtful, then shook his head. “Why?”

  “No reason.” Ryan looked down at the papers, flipping the envelope over, the photo tucked with it. “If there’s anything else you remember, please give us a call.”

  Steven nodded, then turned around and left without another word.

  “What do you think that’s about?” Dane asked, his voice low.

  “Hell if I know,” Ryan said wryly.

  Friday 30th September; 12noon

  Liv sank onto the stool she used to sit on behind the counter, keeping an eye on Mocha as she napped against the far wall. Gram was working on her crochet at home, and Liv had thought it would be nice to get Mocha out of the house for once. Maybe they needed to get a second dog.

  She stifled a yawn. She hadn’t slept well, not after her snooping. She kept having dreams that Cairo was coming after her, begging to be saved. That someone was stalking her, stalking Cairo, stalking Gram.

  Liv shivered at the memory. Everything was fine. But how could it be with a murderer on the loose?

  The door jangled and she stood, plastering a smile on her face as she turned to greet the customer. Then she froze.

  Ryan stood in the doorway, her hand still on the door. It felt like time hung without moving, like they stood there forever.

  Then Mocha got up from her bed and sauntered over to Ryan, sniffing her slacks intently. Ryan’s gaze fell to the dog, and a small smile lit up her face.

  Ryan truly was gorgeous. Even after a decade, she hadn’t changed. There were faint lines here and there, but all they did were make her more beautiful. When Ryan lifted her head to smile at Liv, it made the fluttering break out in her stomach.

  It also threatened to break her heart.

  “Can I help you?” Liv asked, leaning forward slightly.

  “What’s your recommendation?” Ryan looked at her with sharp eyes.

  Liv blinked. “What do you mean?” Did Ryan know she had been poking into the case? Probably. Ryan wasn’t stupid, and she knew Liv had a habit for getting into things she didn’t necessarily need to stick her nose into.

  “For coffee.” Ryan pointed to the menu. “It’s changed since I was here last.”

  Liv relaxed, feeling her shoulders sag a touch. “If you like flavored coffees, the marshmallow mocha is quite good.”

  “I’ll take one of those, then.” Ryan nodded, pulling out her wallet and sliding it across the counter.

  Liv reached for it, her fingertips brushing the leather. It was smooth and buttery under her fingers, and she inhaled sharply, her mind flashing back to the feel of Ryan’s skin and lips under her, the way they had twined together and become one.

  “It’s on the house,” Liv said before she could get her brain back under control.

  Ryan studied her for a moment, and the fire was still in her eyes just like it had been when they were younger. “How are you, Liv?” The soft huskiness of her voice sent shivers down Liv’s spine.

  Liv exhaled quietly, turning to make the drink. It gave her an excuse to not look at Ryan, at least. “Fine, thanks. You?” She was always fine. No matter how much she wanted to jump over the counter and throw herself at Ryan and kiss the sense out of her. But she had burned that bridge long ago.

  No matter how Ryan was looking at her. No, they needed more than their raw sexual attraction to be happy. They had already proved that.

  Ryan hadn’t answered by the time Liv pushed the warm drink across the counter. There was a horde of butterflies in Liv’s stomach now, and her skin prickled out of excitement and nerves. She could feel her breath coming just a bit faster, her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. She was on edge, and it was all because of Ryan.

  “Thanks.” Ryan took the coffee. “Do you have any sandwiches?” She looked over at the small cooler, then back at Liv.

  “There’s a few there. If you want anything custom, just ask.” And she would make it, like a putz. A sucker. Why was she acting so weird? She shoved the thought aside. She knew why it was. But that was all they had, sexual attraction. She couldn’t connect with anyone. It wasn’t worth it.

  Ryan went and picked up a sandwich, selecting a table at random and sitting down with her coffee and sandwich. Liv highly doubted it was a coincidence that Ryan sat so she could see Liv while she ate.

  Mocha, however, was far more interested than Liv was. She wandered over to the table, rising up on her hind legs and doing what Liv called ‘the meerkat’.

  “She’s going to eat your food,” Liv said wryly.

  “Hi, girl.” R
yan scooted her food to the center of the table, ensuring that all wrappers were tucked around it. “Who’s this?”

  “Her name’s Mocha,” Liv said. “She’s my Gram’s.”

  “You have a grandmother here?” The barest hint of red tinted Ryan’s cheeks. “I mean, of course you have a grandma. I just didn’t know she was here.”

  Liv bit her lip, not certain what to say. “Yeah.”

  Ryan scratched Mocha’s head, not pressuring Liv at all. Liv gratefully returned to her countertop, cleaning it off just so she had something to do.

  She watched as Ryan leaned down and pulled out a folder, spreading the papers over the table. She would have bet good money that it had something to do with Cairo’s case. She knew Ryan was involved, and had been from the day Cairo had seen her at the crime scene.

  And if she was actually investigating it, then she didn’t think it was a suicide either.

  Picking up the wet rag she was using to wipe off the counter, she started at the far table and started working her way towards Ryan. One table, then two. Then she was just to her side, trying her hardest to use her peripheral vision.

  “They’re bank records,” Ryan said wryly, stacking them up.

  Liv scowled inwardly. When she saw Ryan’s smile she realized it was outwardly, too. She scowled some more and stalked back to the counter.

  “Steven mentioned you’d dropped by his house.” Ryan’s voice was tentative.

  Liv didn’t confirm or deny, but she gripped the wash cloth a bit tighter in her hands.

  “Liv, this could be dangerous.” Ryan’s voice softened. She stood, moving closer. “You can’t get involved.”

  “It’s not a suicide.” Liv’s voice was stronger than she expected. She stared Ryan down, but was surprised to see shock in her eyes, not disbelief.

  “Why?” Ryan looked actually interested in what she had to say.

  “She didn’t show any signs.” Liv thought now. “She’d talked about future plans. She was getting married. And the scene looked staged.”

 

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