“Any news?” Ruben asked.
“Nope. She must not have found him yet.”
Ruben looked to his watch. It was afternoon. His stomach rumbled a little. He’d skipped lunch to attend that sham of a shooting panel. They didn’t have long until tonight’s Lucky 37’s stake out.
“Unless you’ve got something else for me to do, I’m going to break for lunch.”
“More wedding stuff?” Glick asked.
Ruben tried not to bring his private life into the office, but Glick had been a damned good detective in his day. “Yeah. Who knew you had to coordinate the color of the mesh that wrapped those stupid wedding almonds with the napkins? Which needed to match the ribbons and the secondary flowers in the bride’s bouquet?”
“I’m assuming, Paggie?” Glick suggested.
Ruben sighed. He did want to make his bride happy, but even he had his limits. “We’re trying to set up a catering tasting.”
“At least your belly will be full,” Glick said. “If they have any tiger shrimp, bring me some back.”
“Will do,” Ruben said, slapping the door jam.
After all the drama around here, it might be nice to get out and about.
He’d just have to trust that Kent wasn’t getting Nicole in trouble.
* * *
There was something thrilling about breaking the law. For a good cause of course, Kent thought as he walked around Tanya’s house. It was about as bland as he imagined. A microfiber couch. The kind where you could spill spaghetti sauce on it and you’d be able to wipe it clean in a jiffy. It was the modern equivalent of those old plastic covers that housewives made their families endure.
There were only a few splashes of color. A bright orange Georgia O’Keefe poster. A red rooster over the stove. Otherwise the place was nearly institutionally dull.
On a small desk set off from the kitchen, in what should have been a breakfast nook, was a desk with a laptop.
Finally. Something that might actually help the investigation.
“What are you doing?” A young voice called from behind Kent. He swung around, wishing for once he had a weapon on him. He eyed the knife block until he realized that the intruder was just a young, rather scrawny teenager.
“I’m with the police department,” Kent stated.
The boy’s eyes narrowed, clearly more suspicious now than he was before. “Don’t you need a warrant or something to bust in here?”
Kent lifted an eyebrow. “Might I ask you the same question? At the least I’m on official business and you are?”
Realizing his mistake, the teen took a step back. “I’m a friend of Tanya’s.”
“A live-in friend? Aren’t you a bit young for that?”
“No,” the teen said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t like that. She took me in, gave me a place to stay.”
“Out of the goodness of her heart?” Kent questioned.
“Yes, if you must know. Tanya was the nicest person I’d ever met.”
The boy sounded sincere. Teens weren’t great liars. They just didn’t have the focus for it. Kent nodded to the kitchen table. “Then why don’t we sit down and you tell me about it? How about your name?”
The teen hovered at the other side of the table. “Nathan.”
“And how did you meet Tanya?”
Nathan shrugged. “At her weekly book club meeting.”
“She had a book club?”
The teen stared at Kent like he was possibly the stupidest person in the world. “You really don’t know a thing about her, do you?”
“Apparently not,” Kent admitted, “But you met at a bookstore?”
“Well, not exactly in the bookstore, more out back in the alley.”
“Where you were…?” Kent asked.
“What do you think?” Nathan shot back. “Selling drugs and…”
“Turning tricks?” Kent filled in the blanks. In Britain the teen would be called a rent boy.
Nathan nodded, apparently too ashamed to say the words himself. “At first she just brought me books and magazines. Which to be honest were more important than food or drugs.”
“But then?” Kent prompted.
“She asked if I wanted to live with her,” Nathan explained. “It was a little weird, ya know?”
Kent could get a sense of it. “Because she didn’t want anything from you?”
“Yah, she just wanted to make sure I was safe. So even though it was weird, I came here. It turned out good though. I was able to keep up the house when she was sick and help her when she was weak.”
“It sounds like you two really helped each other out,” Kent said, waving to the chair. “Sit.”
“Not until you tell me why you’re really here.”
Fair enough. “I’m investigating Tanya’s life and death. It may be connected to a serial killer.”
The teen snapped his finger several times, pointing at Kent the kid reminded him a lot of Joshua, only the teen’s behavior was age appropriate.
“I told them!” the boy announce. “I told them it wasn’t natural causes!”
“Whoa,” Kent said. The kid was way ahead of him. “What do you mean not natural causes? Tanya had stage five pancreatic cancer.”
“Yah, but it was the treatable kind. She was doing great. Then boom, she went down.”
“At the infusion center?” Kent said trying to catch up. This must be how Nicole felt all the time. Not a very pleasant sensation.
“Yeah. She was doing fine then she started complaining about the solution stinging. The nurses kept saying it was phlebitis, but Tanya had ten rounds of chemo and had her catheter replaced several times, she knew what phlebitis felt like and she said it was different. Not a burning, but a sharp sting.” Kent nodded for the youth to continue. “Then she started frothing and seizing and died in my arms.”
“There are a lot of reasons for someone on chemo to die. Embolisms, Rapid Tumor death toxicity, preexisting heart conditions.”
The teen shook his head violently. “No, I‘ve seen plenty of people die. Junkies on the street. Then the people that died at the infusion center. I know the difference. This looked more like an overdose death.”
“But no one believed you?”
Nathan snorted. “Yah, some fancy cancer doctor is really going to believe an ex-junkie like me. They kicked me out before I could even talk to the police.”
Sounded like an infusion center who didn’t want any controversy. And who usually listened to street kids? Not a whole lot of people. Kent was just a little proud, prouder than he was of his profiling work, that he was one of them.
“I’m listening now, tell me everything,” Kent urged.
The kid did. He walked through the timeline precisely, giving Kent a rich detail of what happened that day. It was clear that this kid had turned those events over and over again in his head. There was a clarity that most witnesses didn’t have.
“You realize to prove your concerns, we’re going to have to exhume Tanya’s body?”
The boy looked concerned for a moment, then nodded. “It’s worth it. I’m sure she’d understand.”
“Okay,” Kent said opening his phone.
A voice came over the line. “Captain, what do I owe the pleasure?”
“It’s Kent,” he informed Joshua.
If anything the morgue attendant got even more excited. “Yes, sir. I’m at your disposal.
Kent certainly hoped so. “Look, I need the body of the woman you guys discovered.”
“We’re going to need the signature of the nearest blood relative.”
“That’s just it,” Kent explained. “She doesn’t have any.”
“Well, then the order will need McGregor’s signature.”
“Ah, and that’s the other rub. Could you ask him for me?” Kent queried. McGregor and he didn’t exactly have the friendliest relationship.
“Dude, come on. Don’t make me the messenger,” Joshua whined. “Besides he’s going to want something in exc
hange.”
“Tell him I can get Cuban cigars. Real ones. Dipped in cognac.”
“All right. Give me a second,” Joshua said then Kent heard the click of the hold button followed by an instrumental Barry Manilow song. Coppa something. Kent checked his contact list. On another case, he’d met a cigar steward well versed in acquiring illegal cigars.
The phone line clicked back over. “He says only if they are Havana with the seal intact.”
“You tell McGregor we’ve got a deal. And once you get the body, please pay special attention to the last catheter site. I have a witness that swears there was something else in that chemo cocktail.
“You got it. I’ll ring you once we’ve got the body.”
The line went dead. Kent put the Captain’s phone back in his pocket.
“Do you really think they’ll find anything this long out?” Nathan asked.
“If anyone can, it’s my team,” Kent stated.
Nathan grabbed a picture of Tanya from the desk. “I want to do right by her.”
“You are,” Kent said.
Out of everything he’d learned this afternoon, the one thing that came through crystal clear was how much this adopted mother and son loved one another. “I can’t believe she didn’t leave a will or something for you.”
Nathan shuffled a napkin in front of him. “She did, but I can’t find it. I think it may be in her safety deposit box. She never expected to die suddenly. She kept telling me when the doctors told her it was time she’d show me everything. She thought it would be jinxing her recovery if we talked about end of life stuff.”
“She had a safety deposit box?” Kent asked.
Before Nathan could answer, the screen door opened and Nicole walked into the house. “Why am I not surprised?”
Kent shrugged.
“You said you’d meet me back at the station,” Nicole frowned.
“But this is so much more interesting,” Kent informed her. “This is Tanya’s unofficially adopted son, Nathan.”
Nicole recovered quickly and shook Nathan’s hand. “Very nice to meet you.”
“He thinks that Tanya was murdered at the chemotherapy infusion center,” Kent explained. “And he was just telling me about a secret safety deposit box. Nathan, do you know where the key is?”
“Sure, I’ll go get it.” Nathan said pushing back out of his chair and rushing off like only a child could do.
Nicole frowned as the child left. “What are you doing? The kid is living here illegally and has got to be under aged. We’ve got to contact social services.”
“Or,” Kent suggested. “We figure it out without them.”
“Kent, you can’t just keep picking up strays like this.”
He rose and put his arms around Nicole’s waist. “Why not? You did with me.”
Before she could answer, Kent kissed her, deeply. Nicole responded at first, then pulled back. Maybe his mojo was wearing off.
“Really? What’s your end game here?” she asked. “What’s your ideal resolution?
“I’m just trying to fulfill Tanya’s last wish. Are you really going to complain?”
Nicole sighed, pushing back from him as Nathan ran back into the room.
“Here ya go,” Nathan said, handing the key over to Kent.
Nicole rolled her eyes. “I suppose that you need me to get you a warrant to get into the box?”
Ah, that was his girl. He’d take her frustrated frowns, sighs and eye rolls as long as she helped him out in the end.
Off of his nod, Nicole sighed one last time. “All right, then we should head over to the bank then.”
“Aught, aught,” Kent said, wagging his finger at her. “You have another engagement, don’t you?”
Nicole cocked her head, clearly trying to think of where she was supposed to be.
“Remember? The stake out tonight?” Kent reminded her.
“That doesn’t start until eight. It is barely three o’clock now.”
Kent breathed in savoring the next few moments. “But you have to get ready.
Nicole’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’ve to get you looking like Lucky 37’s ideal woman. You need make-up, a dye job and a few tactically placed temporary tattoos.
“No,” Nicole said crossing her arms over her chest.
“Nic, Lucky saw you that night and again last night. There’s no way you can go in looking like this. And even if he hadn’t seen you, you aren’t his type at all. We’ve got to transform you into a skanky strung out biker chick.”
“Well, thank you at the least for thinking I needed a complete make-over,” Nicole stated.
“Run along now, I hired everyone and they should be at the house at any minute.”
Nicole frowned. She did that a lot around him. But that was the trade off right?
“You’ll call me if anything significant turns up?” Nicole asked.
“Of course,” Kent reassured her even though they both knew if something really significant turned up, he’d probably be too distracted to call her. But no point in bringing that up now.
“Fine,” Nicole said as she put her hand out. “But I get the car.”
“How are we going to get to the bank then?” Kent asked trying to look as innocent as he could while still holding onto the car keys.
“Ugh, fine. I’ll call a patrol car,” Nicole said heading to the door. “This had better be worth it.”
Once she was gone, Nathan turned to Kent. “You guys been married long?” the teen asked.
“No, we’re just engaged, not yet married.”
“Really?” Nathan said. “You could have fooled me.”
CHAPTER 7
Nicole got out of the patrol car.
“Thanks,” she said as she closed the door. She really hated hitching rides, especially since she had a completely kick ass Mustang herself. Maybe she should buy Kent a car despite his objections.
What would it matter? He’d just “borrow” her keys and leave her driving some stupid Nissan or Toyota. Now the only way she could drive a Mustang all the time would be to buy another just like hers and she just didn’t have the extra hundred grand to restore another Mustang to its original condition.
Especially not with the wedding coming up. At some point. They didn’t have a date yet, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t money to be spent.
She walked up to her door and found it ajar. Nicole smoothly pulled her weapon, nudging open the door with her foot.
“Hello?” she called out softly.
“In here!” a cheerful voice called from the kitchen.
Nicole crossed the house quickly, her gun still out but pointed down, her finger off the trigger.
Her kitchen was no longer her kitchen though. The table and counters were covered in makeup brushes and rouge. There was another cart stacked with tin foil squares and a container filled with some paste that reeked like bleach. Better than a dead pig she supposed.
“No,” Nicole said. The perky blond with the happy voice stepped behind Nicole, blocking her from leaving.
“He said, you’d put up a fuss,” the hairdresser said. Nicole only guessed that she was a hairdresser. The teased, mile high big hair kind of gave it away. “Now have a seat and let us do our work.”
“You aren’t making me a blonde,” Nicole said as she reluctantly sat down on a kitchen chair.
“Dirty blonde, yes,” the hairdresser said. “With nice long roots.”
Ugh, could this get any worse?
“He wanted such prominent roots that I made him sign a waiver you all weren’t going to sue me after,” the hairdresser said, chuckling to herself. Nicole feared the woman’s prominent breasts might burst out at any moment.
A smaller and less buxom blonde walked in from the porch, she had even more make-up bags.
“Really, I don’t need all that,” Nicole pleaded.
The make-up artist tilted her head. “Oh honey, yes, you do.”
&nb
sp; Sighing, Nicole leaned back in the chair and awaited her doom. If she called Kent he would just insist so there was no point in calling him.
Besides, she did want to catch Lucky 37 and if that meant she had to turn into a bleach blonde skank, so be it.
* * *
Kent waited in a rather comfortable chair next to Nathan as the bank manager went to the fax to get the search warrant. Nicole had been a good girl and gotten it for them even though he’d taken the Mustang.
“Sorry for the delay,” the manager said as he walked back in with his cheap suit and flamboyant tie. “I’m so sorry to hear Miss Wyant passed on. We had no idea. I will need to see a copy of the death certificate.”
Kent looked to Nathan. He hadn’t thought about that. He might need to get Jimmi to do some of his magic.
But Nathan pulled out his beat up wallet and pulled out a delicately folded piece of paper. “Here, but I get it back, right?”
The manager gave a sympathetic smile. “Yes, I just need to get a copy of this.”
Kent looked to Nathan. He was trying to be brave but the corner of his lip, quivering gave him away. While this trip might be helping him out long term, clearly in the moment it was ripping open a scab.
The manager was quick about it and came back almost immediately. Kent felt that his presence and that of the search warrant had lit a fire under the man. He doubted if Nathan came in by himself he would be getting such service.
“This way,” The manager said, motioning through the glass door to the deposit box area.
Kent followed along with Nathan as they went through two locked doors until they were finally at the vault itself. The manager opened the door but did not enter.
“You have the key?” he asked Nathan. The teen pulled out the key from his pocket.
They entered together and used the two key system to open the box. The manager backed away. “Let me give you two your privacy.”
The manager left, partially closing the door behind them.
“All right, let’s see what’s in there.”
Nathan pulled out the long drawer and placed it on the table. He opened the metal lid.
There were several papers on top. Kent opened the first one. It was Tanya’s will and testament. He scanned it quickly. No surprises here.
The Harbinger Collection: Hard-boiled Mysteries Not for the Faint of Heart (A McCray Crime Collection) Page 67