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Thrilled To Death

Page 17

by Jennifer Apodaca


  “Exactly,” Gabe confirmed.

  I frowned and looked the hard lines Gabe had drawn to resemble the motor home. Shane was on the floor, but something was missing. “Wait, where are the dogs?” I looked up at Gabe. “Do we know if the dogs were poisoned or drugged?” That seemed really important.

  Gabe sat down with his coffee. “Drugged. Sleeping pills or something like that. And they were on Shane’s bed.”

  I sat back in my chair and tried to get a picture in my head of how it happened. “Did they feel sick and go climb up on his bed? Or did the killer put them there?”

  Gabe said, “First off, the dogs each had one of those doggie beds by Shane’s bed so I doubt they got up on his bed.” He tapped the picture. “If I were the killer, I’d want the dogs where Shane wouldn’t see them when he walked in. Sure he’d be suspicious that they didn’t come running, but if he saw them sprawled on the ground, his instincts would go on high alert.”

  “So the killer got inside, drugged the dogs, and maybe he put them on the bed. But couldn’t he have just dragged them out of his way instead of lifting them onto the bed?” I thought about that. “And he didn’t kill the dogs. He went to the trouble of tranquilizing them. He likes dogs. It might be that he knows dogs well enough to know how to get them to eat the tranquilizer.”

  “If that’s how he administered it,” Gabe pointed out.

  True. “Now what about the other body Vance said was the hit man?”

  Gabe said, “They found him in an abandoned house. The house was clean except for a plastic cup, and there were no prints, just the strong smell of alcohol. No bottles of alcohol or pills or even bandages. Just a sleeping bag the dead man was lying on and the cup. The theory is that the hit man met up with the person who hired him. That person brought the alcohol and pills in the guise of helping the hit man but ultimately ended up killing him.”

  That was cold. “But how do the police know it’s not suicide?”

  He sipped his coffee. “There’d be bottles of liquor, a wallet, something. The place was cleaned. Not robbed, cleaned.”

  I nodded. “And so maybe it was the same tranquilizer or sleeping pills used on the dogs.” I thought of the sleeping pills we had found in Bo’s motel room. I tried to be objective, but the dogs bothered me. “Bo doesn’t like dogs. He doesn’t know anything about them.”

  Gabe shrugged. “Doesn’t take a dog lover to roll up a sleeping pill in a chunk of hamburger.”

  It didn’t add up. “But lifting them up on the bed?”

  “Getting them out of the way.”

  He was playing devil’s advocate. “Maybe.”

  “But you don’t think so.”

  I shook my head but said, “I don’t know. Do we know if Bo has a gun? What kind of gun did the killer use?”

  “Not yet. A small .22 pistol. Up close and personal, and not a lot of room for mistakes. A hit man would never use a .22.”

  That struck me. “I don’t know a whole lot about guns, but going from trying to use a hit man to killing him personally with a close-up-type gun—that sounds like our killer’s getting angrier or perhaps the stakes are rising. But how did the killer get into the motor home to get that close? It’s back against some trees, but wouldn’t someone see a person skulking around?”

  Gabe sat forward. “The door had a scrape on it, probably from lock picks. I couldn’t be sure if they were from the hit man who broke in on Monday night or something more recent. That’s part of why I went in.” His face hardened, and he cast his gaze over my cheek and eye. “Plus I saw Shane’s SUV there. I knew the bastard was inside.”

  My heart tripped over. The message was that nothing had been going to stop Gabe from going after the man who hit me. “You have a lot in common with your brother,” I muttered.

  “Melanie doesn’t belong to Cal. You belong to me.”

  I sat up straight. “You don’t own me, Pulizzi.” God, he irritated me with that attitude.

  He grinned, slow and wicked with sensual heat simmering in his gaze.

  “Caveman.”

  “Man, sugar. All man.”

  A smile cracked through my irritation. “I noticed. But back to this.” I moved the diagram Gabe had drawn. “So if someone picked the lock in broad daylight to get inside to murder Shane, there might be a witness.”

  “I’ll go canvass the campground tomorrow morning. You go talk to Nikki. She seemed to have a solid reason to hate Shane. Two reasons if it’s her show Shane had been planning to spoil Saturday night.”

  “A woman scorned,” I said, thinking about Nikki. “I’ll talk to her. Rosy said that Vance had her in the police station this evening. So our two suspects are Bo Kelly and Nikki Eden.” That made me sad for Grandpa and for me. I cast around for a better suspect. “Grandpa and Fletch are looking through the Triple M for anything they can find. Maybe they will come up with something. In the meantime, Lola was hanging around the office making Blaine nuts when Shane was murdered, so she’s off the suspect list.”

  He nodded. “I saw her there. But Bo and Nikki had motive. We don’t know where either of them were during the murder. Do you think either of them can pick open a lock?”

  I had to think for a second. “Bo does different illusions based on his superhero theme. He’s big on levitation among other things. He could have some lock-picking skills if he’s rescuing a chained-up damsel in distress or something. And Nikki, she does some big escapist illusions, so I would bet she knows how to pick a lock.” Lead settled in my stomach as I considered her. “And Nikki would have known the dogs. She could have gotten into Shane’s motor home pretty easy, I would think. The dogs would know her.”

  “Enough to eat from her,” Gabe added. He looked down at the watch on his arm. “Who is Nikki, Sam? What drives her?”

  I tried to get to the core of her. “Smart, young, chip on her shoulder attitude but loves her grandma. Magic saved her, gave her a purpose and kept her out of juvie, when her parents divorced. She credits Grandpa with that. Her show is high concept, meaning big illusions that cost a hell of a lot of money.”

  “Love life?”

  I shrugged. “My sense is that she takes men when they appeal to her but guards her heart.”

  “Until Shane?”

  I got this. I understood this. It’s why I was good at Heart Mates and at critiquing romances. “He was her soul mate, a bad boy to her bad girl. A man with a chip on his shoulder, a tough life. They shared an understanding of making it in spite of the odds against them.”

  Gabe added, “And he betrayed her. Would that drive her to murder?”

  I didn’t know and shrugged in frustration. “Would she hire me if she had killed him?”

  “Sure, you’d be her inside information. Especially if she thought she was smarter than you. That’s the thing about killers, they tend to really think they can get away with it. Now what about Bo?” Gabe pressed on.

  I shifted my thoughts back to Bo and what drove him. “There’s the cartoon character based on him. That’s a powerful reason to keep Shane from spoiling his show.” I thought about Bo and his career, and his wife. “He chose magic over his wife. When he realized his being on the road made her unhappy, he let her go. And he loved her.”

  Gabe whistled softly. “I can answer that one. He gave up a woman he loved for his career, and now he’s making it to the big time and the sacrifices are paying off. I don’t even have to ask if he’d kill to keep Shane from destroying that.”

  I set a cup of coffee in front of Grandpa.

  He looked up from his computer screen. “You and Gabe got in late last night.”

  That felt downright weird. Gabe had left early to get to the office and help Blaine before heading over to canvass the campground for witnesses. “Uh, Gabe wanted his brother to get some sleep, so he sent Cal home and stayed here.” In my bed. A tight fit, but we both slept. At least until he talked me into taking a shower with him this morning. After that, Gabe had left before the boys got up to go help Blai
ne get ready for the painters.

  Grandpa grinned. “Do we have to talk about safe sex, Sammy?”

  I dropped into a chair at the table. “Don’t you dare. If you do, I’ll tell Mom that you’re dating a woman half your age.”

  His smile soured. “You’re just mean in the morning.” He clicked through some windows on the computer and said, “I got into one of Bo’s bank account, but I haven’t found any large withdrawals. This is his everyday checking account. I haven’t found a savings account. I’ll keep looking.”

  TJ straggled out, looking tired. I got up and kissed his forehead. “What time did you get to bed?” I had a stab of guilt. I should have been here to make sure he got to bed early.

  “I’m always tired in the morning, Mom. We went to bed at ten. Joel and I played video games with Cal. I beat them.” He grinned as he made his way to the table for cereal.

  “Who cares?” Joel shuffled out. He looked more awake. “Video games are for geeks.” He stopped by me. “Mom, Cal’s totally awesome. He told us about some mega fires he’s been in.”

  I smiled. “Yeah?”

  Joel looked around. “I thought Cal was spending the night.”

  “Gabe switched places with him around midnight.” I got busy searching my purse for lunch money.

  Joel stared at me with huge blue eyes. “So where’s Gabe?”

  “Went to work.” I pulled out two fives. It was all I had at the moment. I needed to go to the ATM.

  “What about you? Are you working on that magician’s murder?” Joel went to the table and picked up the box of cereal.

  I heard the doorbell ring and saw Grandpa and Ali get up to answer it. To Joel’s question I said, “Yes.” I didn’t tell the boys that I was having second thoughts about going after my PI license, mostly because I didn’t know what I wanted. I did want to work cases, but I didn’t want to lose Heart Mates.

  Joel nodded.

  TJ stopped eating and looked up. “Is it dangerous, Mom? I mean, Gabe thought we needed a babysitter last night.”

  Fletch came into the kitchen just as I poured some more coffee. I got another cup down and filled it for him. Then I took my coffee and the money to the table. I sat down, gave TJ and Joel each a five for lunch money, then said, “Gabe is always careful with us, TJ.”

  “Grandpa says it’s ’cause he loves you,” Joel said. “If you marry him, are we gonna live at Gabe’s house? Can I have my own room?”

  TJ stopped eating but stared at his cereal.

  Oh boy. Gabe had never said a word about marriage, and I didn’t want to marry, partly because I didn’t want to leave Grandpa alone. And I was scared to death of marriage. I’d spent thirteen years in a dead marriage. I never wanted to do that again. “Joel, I’m not going to marry Gabe, and he hasn’t asked me to. You, your brother, and I are going to stay here with Grandpa as long as he lets us.” I had no intention of leaving him alone.

  Joel glanced at Grandpa sitting at his computer. Fletch had pulled up a chair next to him. Then Joel looked back at me and said, “I want to stay here.”

  “Me too.” I smiled at him, then looked at my other son. “TJ, I’m certain that you and Joel are not in any danger. But like Gabe, I’m always going to be cautious. If that means having Gabe or his brother hang around, then that is what we’ll do.”

  TJ rolled his eyes. “I meant is it dangerous to you. Besides your clothes.”

  I laughed. “Do you think I should wear old clothes today?” I had on a tangerine-colored silk sleeveless top and form-fitting black pants. “I don’t think I’m in any danger at the moment, but I’ll be careful.”

  TJ glanced at Grandpa, then me. “I think you should stay on it, Mom,” he said, then got up and took his bowl to the sink.

  I watched my more serious, older son. That boy was sharp. He had caught on that the one who might be in danger was Grandpa. Somehow it was all connected to Grandpa. In one way or another, all the players were connected to him: Grandpa mentored Shane, then tossed him out of the Triple M; Grandpa introduced both Nikki and Bo to magic and got them into the Triple M, and Fletch too.

  Joel got up to rinse his dish and added it to the dishwasher, then both boys went into their rooms to finish getting ready for school.

  Fletch’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “I think we should look into Nikki’s bank accounts.”

  I turned around. Fletch sat with his coffee on the other side of Grandpa.

  Grandpa looked thoughtful. “I don’t really feel right. We had a reason to look at Bo with the fake thumb and all. And Nikki is Sam’s client.”

  Fletch set his cup down and looked at Grandpa. “But if there’s nothing there we can rule her out.”

  Grandpa turned to me.

  I was uncomfortable. Gabe and I had broken into Bo’s motel room while Grandpa had broken into his bank accounts. What if he was innocent? Then what we did was wrong. And Nikki hired me to work for her. “Let me talk to her first. I’ll call you after I do that and get to work to talk to Gabe.”

  Nikki looked like she hadn’t slept at all. She wore a pair of black boxer-style shorts and a gray tank top. Her hazel eyes were puffy and her spiky hair wilted. She sat at the kitchen table in the sunny little nook staring at a mug of tea that smelled like lemon.

  Rosy stood at my shoulder. “Coffee, Sam?”

  “I’d like that, thanks, Rosy.” I sat down and put down my yellow tablet with the list of magicians tucked in the back. “How are you, Nikki?”

  She lifted her gaze. “I can hardly believe he is dead.” “Shane?” Of course she meant Shane. But I wanted her to talk. I wanted to figure out her state of mind. Judging by the way she looked, it could be grief, horror, or remorse.

  She nodded. “He was bigger than life. Even when he dumped me, he was . . . so alive.” She rubbed her eyes, spreading black mascara residue.

  Rosy set a steaming cup of coffee in front of me, then she excused herself to go get dressed. I focused on Nikki.

  She said, “I didn’t kill him, Sam. I couldn’t have. I wanted revenge, but I couldn’t have killed him.”

  I glanced down at my coffee, thinking about women in love. We were in my territory now—romance. Nikki was watching me when I looked up and said, “You couldn’t kill him because you loved him once.” But I knew that love could turn into hate.

  She smiled, her lean face softening. “I was going to beat him at his own game.”

  “The confidentiality agreement. Nikki, I need to know what that’s about.” Did it matter anymore if Shane was dead? It had to do with him, obviously.

  “A network special. I was going to host a special to air after Shane’s show, showing what goes into building a magic act and how Shane took a shortcut to fame by destroying hardworking magicians. I was going to expose the real Shane Masters to the world, including that he was nothing more than a street thug. It was half a ‘behind the scenes’ of magicians and half a biography of Shane.” She looked into the kitchen, her eyes unfocused. “Shane didn’t know as much as he thought he did. It never occurred to him that I would get my own TV show.”

  That’s what Nikki had hired me for, to get her additional information for her TV special. And that’s why she approached Shane in the first place—she had been planning to do to Shane what he did to others. It all added up. Finally. Except I had really believed she loved him. But maybe she hadn’t. Maybe she had just been using him. “So you didn’t love him?”

  “I fell in love with him. And I went to his show in Vegas before coming here, ready to tell him the truth and break my contract with my show, if Shane would give up his spoiler shows. We could create a magic show together, like Penn and Teller, or Siegfried and Roy, but I never got past my first two words before Shane dumped me.”

  “Oh.” Nikki Eden had a lot of reasons to be pissed. She had been going to give up her prime-time chance at fame for Shane. And he had dumped her. “What were the two words you did get out?”

  She looked back at me with her head held high,
exposing her long neck. “I’m pregnant.”

  14

  My head spun with the shocking news that Nikki was pregnant by Shane Masters. Sitting across the table, I searched her face. No tears. She looked numb. I could understand that. “Did you tell the police this?” No wonder Vance had her down at the station for so long.

  “Every word. And I gave them all my documents. I don’t have an alibi for the time of Shane’s murder. I was here sleeping, and Grandma was off doing her reading program at the school.”

  I nodded, knowing she meant Rosy’s volunteer tutoring of middle school kids with lagging reading skills. But I wasn’t sure about the documents. “The stuff you were compiling on Shane for your TV show?”

  She lifted the cup of tepid tea and took a sip. “Yes.”

  That meant her documents were out of my reach if Vance had them. I wished I could have seen them. “What about your TV special? Is it cancelled now?”

  “My manager is in talks. He’s pitching a couple ideas.” She shrugged.

  I got the impression that Nikki didn’t really care about the TV show anymore. Numb. She just seemed numb. The shock of being pregnant, of getting dumped by Shane, Shane’s murder, then what was probably a grueling police interview . . . she was numb.

  Rosy came out dressed in bright pink capri pants and a loose printed T-shirt. She set a thin plastic case in front of Nikki. It appeared to be a CD case.

  “Thanks, Grandma.”

  Rosy put her hand on Nikki’s shoulder. “You didn’t drink much tea.”

  She smiled. “I’ll drink some later.”

  Rosy fixed herself some coffee and sat down between us. She didn’t say a word.

  My admiration for Rosy went up. She was supporting her granddaughter in a tough time.

  Nikki slid the plastic case across the table to me. “This is a copy of everything that I gave the police that I had on Shane, Sam. I know I originally hired you to find out everything you could about Shane, but now I want you to find out who murdered him. I know what he was. . . .” She stopped talking and swallowed.

 

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