A Model Murder (The Dead Ex Files Book 2)

by Claire Kane

  Settling on her haunches, she nearly whispered, “Sir?” Hesitantly, she reached out to tap him. “Teddy?” she finally said. “Are you Teddy?”

  The man groggily changed positions, his pink eyelids still shut, a string of drool trailing from his chapped lips. He looked like all too many of the other destitute people she’d encountered tonight. Cringing, she tapped him once more on his shoulder. “Teddy? Sir?”

  With a snort, his lids blinked open, the whites of his eyes badly sun-damaged. “Huhrr?”

  Lacey sympathetically smiled, tucking some of her long hair behind an ear. “Hi. I’m so sorry for waking you.”

  He blinked some more. “You talkin’ to me?” He made another gurgling “Huhrr” sound from the depths of his throat.

  “Yes, sir. Is your name Teddy?”

  “Teddy?” he repeated loudly while cupping an ear. “I haven’t had a teddy since… since I was five!” He lifted a nearby crumpled cup. “Spare change?”

  Embarrassed, Lacey glanced around. A couple of window-shoppers didn’t seem to care or notice. But the black-beanied bell ringer who’d insulted her had stopped to peer at her like a watch dog. Never had a five o’clock shadow looked so menacing. She returned her attention to the vagrant. “I’m sorry for bothering you.” She stood, pulling her purse close against her body.

  Crossing the parking lot, Lacey sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She spotted another homeless man sitting against a concrete pylon that supported Seneca as it merged onto the Alaska Way viaduct. Even from several yards away, he had a different feel than any of the other transients she’d met tonight. Something… dark. Her heart beating hard, she wondered if she should dare approach him. One foot in front of the other, as if possessed by someone stronger, she went forward.

  A rat skittered across the shadowy pavement, squealing in the cold. Still, Lacey pressed forward, her high-heeled boots clicking loudly no matter how cautiously she stepped. The man didn’t seem to notice, focused on something in his lap.

  Lacey’s shadow was suddenly paralleled by another, from behind. She made to spin but wasn’t fast enough; a large hand seized her left arm.

  FOUR

  Her breath caught the instant she saw her captor. There stood the bell ringer, black beanie askew, his face menacing beneath. His former, vacant look had been replaced by a chilling clarity.

  “Let go of me,” she ordered. Although her voice was strong, she was shaking within.

  He pressed his face close to hers, and she recoiled from the stench of cheap coffee and cigarettes. “First, you pass up my donation bucket,” he said, teeth stained and voice dripping with disdain, “then you harass a sleeping man. Who are you?”

  It didn’t help to know she was probably within fifty yards of the spot where Jessica had been murdered. His grip crushed her bicep, refusing to release her.

  She started, “I’m just—” Her right hand stealthily continued reaching into her purse. “I’m looking for someone.”

  Squeezing even harder, making Lacey wince, he said, “Do you know what happened in here? Do you want it to happen to you?”

  Her right hand now having a firm grip around her pistol’s handle, she asked, “Why? Are you the murderer?”

  The man growled, then chuckled at Lacey’s reaction. She wondered whether she’d managed to keep the fear out of her eyes.

  Without warning, a calm, familiar voice chimed in her mind, making her gasp in surprise. Pull out your gun.

  “Victor?” she muttered.

  “Who’s Victor?” the man asked. “Don’t you mean Teddy? Isn’t that who you’re looking for? Yeah, I heard you.”

  “Yes,” she finally said, her heart hammering. Had she just hallucinated? Had she just willed a memory of Victor’s voice?

  The man jerked Lacey in his grip before letting go. “Here I am.”

  “Wh-what?” Lacey’s eyes narrowed, blood returning to her arm.

  “I’m Teddy, so what do you want?”

  Was this part of his game before the attack? “No, you’re not Teddy.”

  “Of course I am.”

  Lacey ripped the gun from her purse, pointing directly at his face. “Back up.”

  A sudden yelp and the sounds of panicked retreat behind her—probably the vagrant she’d been intent on moments ago—caught Lacey’s ear, but she kept her eyes focused on the man in front of her. “Back up, I said.”

  Raising his hands slightly, he looked surprisingly amused. Still, he complied with her demand. “I am Teddy.”

  Shaking her head, Lacey said, “Teddy’s homeless.”

  “Right,” he drawled sarcastically. “I really live in the Escala Condos. This is just my night job.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course I’m homeless.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re a liar and a creep. And I’ll put a bullet in your head if you don’t start telling the truth.” She savored the sense of power that surged through her at having the upper hand. “Who are you?”

  The man carefully pulled off his overcoat, dropping it carelessly into a puddle. He then started unbuttoning his shirt, not shivering even a bit.

  “What are you doing?” Lacey demanded. This man was more sick in the head than she supposed. “Why are you undressing?”

  He stopped unbuttoning at the top of his paunch, and exposed his hairy chest. Through the forest, she could barely make out the tattoo in bold black letters: Teddy.

  Lacey’s eyes widened. Cocking her head, she conceded, “Okay, so you’re Teddy.”

  “Like I said, rich brat.” He smiled a winning smile. “You going to put away the gun now?”

  “No. You going to stop being a creeper? Didn’t think so.”

  “What do you want from me then?” he asked.

  “You know what I want.”

  “Details about the other rich brat’s murder.” He spread his arms. “Am I hot?”

  Lacey nearly barfed in her mouth, until she realized hot meant right. “Yes.”

  “You sure you want to meddle in this, rich brat?” There was a dark gleam in his eyes.

  “Yes,” she replied, keeping her elbows locked, the gun motionless. “And stop calling me that.”

  “What?” His brows went up. “Rich brat?”

  “Yes. I’m not a rich brat.”

  “Now you’re the liar,” he said. “Tsk, tsk. Wait a sec. Ain’t you that Asian reporter? Lacey Ping?”

  “Ling,” she corrected, lifting her chin a touch. “What’s the fact that I’m Asian—? Never mind, no more tangents. I have some questions for you.”

  Teddy relaxed and started rebuttoning his shirt. When he finished, he retrieved his coat and fished a cigarette and a lighter from a pocket. He lit up and gestured at Lacey with the pack. She wrinkled her nose and stepped away.

  “Suit yourself,” he said. “Not like I got many to share anyway. But I see. You want an interview.” He shook his head and snarled quietly. “You know, I knew I couldn’t trust cops. Information gets leaked when they say it won’t. Now it’s my head on the chopping block, if you know what I’m sayin’. Well, you can’t intimidate Teddy, even with that shiny thing in your dainty little hands.” He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew it out into the chilly air. “I’m not available for comment.” He turned around and stuffed his free hand in his pocket, clearly convinced that Lacey wouldn’t pull the trigger. “Excuse me, but I have a job to go to.”

  Lacey stepped forward. “Wait, that’s it?”

  “Got a donation for my bucket?” he called over his shoulder. His tone said he didn’t expect a yes.

  Lacey huffed, glancing at the concrete, then back to him. “Seriously?”

  FIVE

  Standing on an unimaginably green stretch of grass, under brilliantly blue skies, would have been Victor’s dream, once upon a time. Granted, watching a herd of cats play croquet would only have ever happened in a dream, but now, it was the stuff of reality. And it was driving him insane.

  “You’re killing me here, Rao,” Victor s
aid, his blue eyes bulging.

  The black-and-gold striped tabby floated about a foot above the plush grass, aiming her croquet mallet at a wicket. “Could you give me some space?” she said, waving a furry arm at him. “You’re the only spectator in the middle of the field. You know, they have benches for a reason.”

  It was true; hundreds of human angels watched in wait beyond a white perimeter. There were only cats on the green, one black one, in particular, now eyeing Victor with disdain.

  Defiant, he stayed put. “Look, you’re the one who told me Lacey was in danger. And now you’re asking me to stand around while you play stupid games? I want to see her. I have to know what she’s up against. Talk to me,” he said, nudging her.

  Rao swung, hitting the yellow ball. It zipped just past the wicket, a little too much to the right. The crowd moaned in disappointment. His former pet turned, glaring at Victor. “See what you made me do?”

  Victor could have pulled his hair out if he weren’t made of spirit matter. “This is wasting time. There are more important things than this.”

  Giving Victor a sidelong glance, Rao challenged, “You’re questioning Heaven’s wisdom, here. Now, listen…” She hovered up to face him straight on. “You aren’t scheduled to ‘go down’ until after this round of the tourney. I have it on good authority, the best authority, that Lacey will be fine until then.”

  “You mean to say,” Victor's dark brows went up, “I get to actually go down... to see her... on Earth?”

  “More than that, bub.” Rao winked. “You get to be her guardian angel.”

  *

  Who knew a Subway sandwich would be more convincing than a gun at getting information? Slouching against the corrugated steel wall of the pierside storefront, Teddy dove into his foot-long ham and pastrami, pieces of lettuce spilling out of the corners of his mouth, littering the sidewalk. Lacey wished she’d had the time to take him to a regular Subway, where they could have gotten in out of the cold. “We gotta hurry,” he said. “Like I was saying, I have a job, you know.”

  “Right.” Lacey cleared her throat, having foregone eating for the sake of talking. “Look, I know you’re afraid of information being leaked. You wanted to remain an anonymous witness. I respect that. All this is off the record.”

  The hunger in his eyes was replaced with skepticism. “Sure.”

  “I mean it,” she said, slapping the steel wall in emphasis. “I’m not even a reporter anymore. KZTB is in the past.”

  “Then why do you care?” he asked through another large bite, a hunk of meat falling from his lips.

  She paused, her mouth hanging slightly open. “Because. I simply have a personal interest in the case.”

  He cocked a brow, and a hint of respect shone in his eyes. “A vigilante thing going on here? Gonna be like the female Asian Batman or something?”

  Lacey blinked, her hand still wrapped around the gun tucked in her large purse. She shook her head. “No. I mean, I don't want revenge. I don’t plan on—”

  “Killing him,” he finished, smacking his chops.

  That was actually an interesting question. What was she doing exactly? Lacey pressed her full lips together in thought. “No.”

  Teddy pointed with a knowing smile. “Ya know, you sure don’t sound sure of yourself.”

  “I’m supposed to be the one interviewing you.” She flipped some hair behind a shoulder, trying to get serious again.

  “Where are you working at now?” he ignored her words. “You know, even though you’re a rich brat, if you’re looking for work, you wouldn’t be half bad as a model.”

  “I’m not… looking to be a model.” This was getting tiring.

  “Why not? You know there’s some agencies close by.”

  Lacey shook her head emphatically. “Listen. First question, tell me everything you saw.”

  “That’s a big question. Not even a question, technically. I might need a soda to go with this sandwich.”

  “Argh. I don’t have any more money. I get paid Friday. Please. Just tell me what you saw.”

  “It’s just—for an investigative reporter, you’d think—”

  Lacey slapped the wall again, earning a frown from the employee working behind the window. “Enough. I got you your stupid sandwich. Now talk.” She lowered her voice, in case any of the few passersby had heard her little outburst. “A deal is a deal.”

  His countenance softened, and he set down the other half of his meal. “Okay. So I was finished with my shift for the Salvation Army, and I was heading to my usual spot for the night. A couple other guys share it with me. It’s where we sleep. Anyways, as I was walkin’ back to my ‘home,’ I heard a skirmish. This blond chick was—who was dressed very rich, by the way—”

  Lacey felt like rolling her eyes, but since he was on a roll, talking, she refrained.

  “Anyway, I saw this scrawny guy threatening her with a knife.”

  “Scrawny? A knife?” Lacey repeated. That’s not what her dream, or her vision, or whatever it was, showed.

  “That’s what I said. Do you want to hear the rest, or no?”

  Lacey shifted her stance. “Go on.”

  “Okay, so anyway, I nearly called out to the guy, to tell him to get off my turf and leave the brat alone. But I was too late. She was stabbed.”

  Lacey took a deep breath. “Just a moment,” she said, pulling her phone out of her woolen coat pocket. She quickly pulled up the Internet and Googled. Nothing new on Jessica’s case. Just the usual spiel from the cops, looking for information and hoping to weed out false testimonies.

  Teddy stood quickly and crowded Lacey, peering at her phone. “Whatcha doin’?” He made to snatch it, but Lacey jerked it away. He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re not texting someone what I’m saying, are you?”

  “No.” Lacey apologized, putting away her phone. “I was just checking something. What do you mean by scrawny?”

  Teddy’s dark eyes continued to study her suspiciously. “What you mean, ‘What do you mean’? I mean he was… scrawny. I’m more buff than him.” He flexed slightly and kissed his bicep before laughing sarcastically.

  Lacey looked at Teddy’s arms, easy to see through his thermal button-up. They were strong. She flashbacked to that moment in her dream, where her focus was zeroed in on the murderer’s biceps. They were eerily similar to Teddy’s. Bulky, thick like small logs.

  “What? What’re you thinking?” he said gruffly, breaking into her thoughts.

  Lacey shook her head while closing her eyes a moment. “I’m sorry. I’m feeling a little out of it. Must be my hunger,” she lied.

  Teddy slid the sandwich closer to him, possessively.

  “I have to go,” she lied again, standing. “I’m feeling sick.”

  From beneath the ridge of his beanie, Teddy eyed her. “Sure you are,” he said. “Hey, you know what I’d do if I were you?”

  Lacey paused out of curiosity. “What?”

  “Stop meddling.” He took a bite, and with a full mouth, said, “Or else.”

  A chill went down Lacey’s spine, and she hurried away, though trying to act cool. Once out of Teddy’s line of sight, she jogged toward KZTB’s parking garage, feeling like she had a hundred miles to go instead of two. Suddenly, all the city’s Christmas decor wasn’t comforting. The streetlamp bows now appeared blood-red. An inflatable sidewalk Santa even had a menacing look in his jolly smile. She couldn’t get to her car soon enough.

  Once in the garage, and with keys ready, she rushed toward her car in the dark distance. She hated how easily she could scare. It didn’t help that nearly every horror movie had a moment just like this one. Closing in on her ride, she beeped it open, the sound echoing eerily through the garage as though it had come from everywhere at once.

  Just as she pulled on her driver-side door handle, someone again grabbed her arm.

  SIX

  Lacey jerked with a yelp and spun out of the grasp, her hand shooting into her bag for her gun.


  “Whoa, Lacey,” a woman said.

  There, before her, was Cathy, bundled up against the cold, toting a bag stuffed to the brim with binders and folders. Her eyes bulged behind her cat-eye glasses, and Lacey wondered how big a fool she’d made of herself.

  “Sorry for scaring you!” Cathy said. “I saw you here, and was so surprised I couldn’t speak.

  Lacey clutched at her chest, taking deep breaths. She looked up at her former editor in rebuke. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  Cathy awkwardly fixed a bit of her short red hair, a look of concern in her eyes. “I’m really sorry. My car’s right here,” she said, pointing at the yellow Volkswagen in the next stall. “I wanted to catch you before you left.”

  “Well, you caught me.” Lacey straightened her back, running her slender fingers through long tresses.

  “I wanted to tell you that I put in a good word for you with the new station manager.”

  “Well, thank you,” Lacey said, still waiting for her pulse to slow.

  “Is that why you were here? Were you trying to talk to her?”

  “No, I don’t even know who the new manager is.” Lacey felt instantly apologetic at her curtness. “I mean, thank you. I’m just using this place to park. I was downtown. Shopping.”

  A nearby Exit sign suddenly buzzed and flickered before going out.

  The women looked back at each other, obviously both spooked. Cathy giggled nervously. “Going to have to call Maintenance in the morning.”

  Cathy’s eyes flicked back and forth between Lacey’s hands. “Shopping?” the woman asked.

  “Yeah, just got a little something.” Lacey pointed at her big purse as explanation. A pang of sadness welled inside, knowing she still hadn’t gotten Nainai a gift; worse, she wasn’t sure that she’d be able to afford anything worth giving. She pushed the thought aside.