by Diane Bator
Leo was nervous too. “You’re not a criminal lawyer?”
“I’ve tried cases, but I hate being in court.”
He tilted his head. “So why’d you become a lawyer?”
“It’s good money.” She shrugged. At least she was honest.
The door lock snapped, making Leo flinch and Brady Ryan was ushered inside the interrogation room. Five-foot-ten with a mop of hair the color of one of Christina’s cinnamon buns and a body the same consistency, Brady stood and studied them until the door closed.
Leo had never thought of anyone resembling a pastry before, which amused him. Since the imprisoned Brady looked nothing like his portfolio pictures, Leo assumed drugs and alcohol were involved in the de-evolution. He saw through Brady’s bravado before he even opened his mouth and wondered what Christina ever saw in the guy.
“Who are you?” The Pastry—aka Brady—sneered, but a quiver distorted his voice as his gaze darted from Leo to Shelley. “I’m guessing you’re another dollar-store psychiatrist here to show me inkblots or ask me about my relationship with my mother?”
Shelley sighed. “He’s not here for that.”
“Rorschach Test,” Leo said.
Brady’s eyebrows rose. “What?”
“The ink blots are called a Rorschach Test. They made me take them when I left the army.” Leo intentionally averted his eyes. If Brady felt like the Alpha Dog for a while, he might talk, if only to brag and impress Leo.
“Army, huh? Did they think you were crazy or something?” Brady sat across the cold metal table.
Shelley glanced to Leo who winked then sat back to wait. He hoped the less he or Shelley talked, the more Brady would itch to fill the silence.
Right on cue, Brady squirmed on his chair. “Who the hell are you? You definitely don’t work for my lawyer. She’s a one-man show.”
Leo grinned. It seemed like an appropriate choice of words. “No, I don’t work for your lawyer. Actually, I’m here on your wife’s behalf.”
“Who?” Brady’s face paled to sugar cookie white.
“Rose Ryan or, as her family calls her, Christina Davidson.”
“She hated the name Christina. After her family disowned her, she went by her middle name, Rose.” Brady flared his nostrils as his face turned deep red. He jumped to his feet and banged on the door. “Get me out of here. I want to go back to my room. This dude’s crazy, even the army says so.”
“It’s called a jail cell, you jellyfish.” Leo slammed his hands on the table and stood up. “And you’re not in one because you’re a great humanitarian, you’re accused of murder in the first degree.”
Shelley shrank away from him. “Leo, I don’t think—”
He glared at Brady. “Are you really so spineless you’d hide from the one person in the world who actually cares what the hell happens to you? She’s your wife. Don’t you think she needs to know you’re okay?”
Brady’s features pinched like he was about to cry. “You know my Rosie?”
“Sit down.” Leo commanded.
“No.” His chin quivered. “I want to go back to my room.”
Leo shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere until you park your rear in that chair. If you ever want to get out of jail, you’d better start talking or you’ll never see your wife again.”
His lower lip trembled as he bowed his head. “I already told her I want a divorce so she won’t have to see me like this. She’s not here, is she? If she is, send her home.”
“Are you kidding me?” Leo’s heart raced as he closed his eyes and managed to count to five. This wasn’t the reaction he’d anticipated. “Relax, she’s not here. She’s dealing with her mother’s death and running the family business all alone. If you actually loved her and had a backbone, you would’ve been there to help.”
Brady stuck out his lip. “She didn’t want me to go with her. She’s embarrassed to be seen with me.”
Shelley opened her mouth to interject.
“You’re a liar, Brady.” Leo shot her a glare. “Christina doesn’t need a divorce or you to sit her wallowing in pity, she needs you to pull your head out of your butt and tell everyone the truth.”
The Pastry—Leo had to stop thinking of him that way, it was making him hungry—slumped onto his chair and clutched his head in his hands. “What’s there to tell? I’m a loser. I killed Gage and now I’m going to hell in a gaudy orange jumpsuit.”
Leo didn’t disagree. He leaned on the table, looking Brady in the eye. “Let’s start with the obvious. Did you have an affair with Gage?”
“Yes.” He wiped a hand across his face.
“Even when you knew Christina was his muse and posed for him?”
“Yes.” Brady sobbed.
Leo sat. “Did you go to Gage’s apartment that night with intent to kill him?”
Brady shook his head. “No.”
“Did you kill him?” Leo clenched his jaw and looked Brady in the eye.
“Yes,” he shouted, then his shoulders sagged. “No.” He buried his face in both hands. “I don’t know.”
Shelley rolled her eyes and dropped her pen onto the metal table. “What do you mean you don’t know? Which is it?”
He shook his head. “Gage showed me some paintings he’d sent to a gallery for a big show. We had a glass of wine then everything went hazy. I’m not much of a drinker, but I can usually put away ten or twelve before I pass out. That night, I only had one.”
Leo couldn’t tolerate two or three drinks let alone ten or twelve. More than two glasses of wine would put him under the table. “What do you remember?”
Brady pressed his lips together. “What’s in this for me?”
If it wasn’t for Christina, he’d get up and walk away, leaving The Pastry to mold in jail. “Your freedom. Possibly your life.”
“Oh.” He blinked several times then blubbered. “I just wanted to have a good time. Rose told me that Gage was a great artist who had potential and needed models. I started off just posing for him and I guess he liked what he saw. We had a thing going on for the past few months.”
At the same time as Christina was seeing Gage. Leo kept the sickening thought to himself. “Were you seeing Gage at the same time Christina was seeing him? Before she went back home?”
Brady’s face reddened. “Yeah, but she didn’t know about us. Gage and I got together in June and met up while she was in classes or at work. He wanted me to model for him, among other things. We’d hook up in different studios all the time. He had a lot of friends with great places. A few of them...well, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to hear about the things we did.”
“Good guess.” Leo, who already longed for hand sanitizer, sat back and folded his arms. “How did you kill Gage?”
Brady winced. “With a gun?”
“You don’t know?” He leaned his elbows on the table and covered his eyes with his palms. Talking to Brady before getting some sleep was plain stupid. The guy was probably brain damaged from drugs and didn’t make much sense on a good day. “Did you throw the gun at him or what?”
Brady let out a long sigh. “I shot him.”
“Where?”
“His apartment.” He frowned then added, “In the stomach.”
Not enough to kill him instantly like the other model who found Gage’s body had claimed. Leo needed to find her name in the paperwork and track her down. “How many times did you shoot him?”
“Just once that I know of.”
Leo’s head hurt. The airport was only a twenty-minute drive away. “What do you mean that you know of? Could you have shot him again without knowing?”
“Maybe when I dropped the gun,” Brady said. “I was so scared. I didn’t stick around to listen for another gunshot. I only shot him once then I left.”
“I thought you said things got hazy.”
“I did.” He hesitated. “I mean, they did.”
Leo stood up and headed for the door. “We’re done.”
“We are?”
Shelley seemed as startled as her client.
“What did I say wrong?” Brady followed him like a Chihuahua. “I thought you were here to help me. Why are you leaving?”
“I’m not here for you. I’m here for Christina’s sake. Shelley, you and I need to talk in private. I have a few more questions.” He raised a hand to knock on the door then lowered it. “Brady? Who else was in Gage’s apartment that night?”
“Just me and him,” Brady said. “We had a glass of wine then Gage told me he knew Rose and I were married. If I didn’t divorce her, he was going to dump us both and blacklist us from modeling for his friends. I got angry. There was a gun. I brought it from home.”
“You did?” Shelley’s mouth dropped. “That’s premeditation.”
Brady huffed. “No. It was for protection, not meditation. The last time I was at Gage’s place, I got jumped and beat up. I called the cops, but they never caught the guy.”
The little hairs on the back of Leo’s neck itched. “Where did you shoot him?”
“In the stomach. Then...” He blew out a breath. “Then I tried to leave, but I got dizzy and fell down. One shot. One drink.”
Shelley met Leo’s gaze then turned to Brady. “Are you sure? I thought you left?”
Brady stared at the floor, his right eye twitching. “No, I passed out.”
Leo clapped one hand to Brady’s shoulder and knocked on the door with the other. “Stay out of trouble. I’ve got some digging to do. If all goes well, we might be able to have you home for Christmas.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Brady winced, tears welling in his eyes.
Leo tightened his grip. “Then you’re stuck in a cell with a lot of nasty playmates.”
“Gage is dead, Rose is in Packham, and I’m out of a job.” Brady sniffed. “I don’t have a home anyway, just an empty apartment, a bottle of cheap wine I can’t stand, and a pile of bills I can’t pay now that Rosie is gone.”
Leo smirked. “At least you’ve still got your health.”
“So far.” Brady winced.
While the guard led Brady back to his cell, Shelley followed Leo down the hallway. “So, what do we do now? Do we need to gang up on him and do an intervention, or just give up and let him rot here?”
Leo narrowed his eyes. “Are the police done processing Brady’s apartment?”
“Yeah.” She slid on a pair of large rhinestone-studded glasses, which made her look more like a wanna-be movie star than a lawyer. “Why?”
“I’d like to check it out.” Leo yawned. “Maybe take a shower and catch a nap.”
Her mouth dropped as she peered at him over the rim of her glasses. “You want to use my client’s apartment while he’s in jail. Are you for real?”
Leo shrugged and walked away. “What? I’m a friend of the family.”
“You’re a nosy rat. Brady didn’t even know who you were.” She matched pace with him down the bright hallway. “I had you checked out while we were at lunch, you know. I know exactly who you are, Leo Blue.”
“Good, then you won’t mind me using their apartment.”
“You...I...I’ll call Rose.” Shelley threatened. “Does she even know you’re here? To tell you the truth, I don’t think she does. I doubt she even knows who you are.”
“Yeah?” He turned to stare her down. “Then why am I here?”
“I think you work for the gallery that was supposed to show Gage’s work.”
Leo narrowed his eyes. “Why would you say that?”
She smiled, her cheeks pink from chasing him down the corridor. “Despite what they told me and the police, I think they really liked his paintings and now that he’s dead, they want to do the exhibit after all. Nothing sells like an artist who died tragically.”
“I’ve seen his paintings. They weren’t that good,” he said. “Well, maybe one or two.”
“Wait a minute.” She grabbed his arm, sliding her sunglasses to the top of her head. “You’ve seen his paintings? The ones he brought to the gallery in Buffalo? How?”
Leo folded his arms across his chest. Technically, he hadn’t seen them in person, just via e-mails, but was glad he’d printed copies. “What if I have?”
Shelley glanced around them and frowned. “We need to talk somewhere private.”
“Get me Brady’s house keys and meet me there. I need a place to crash and you need a detective.” Leo grinned. “You bring the key and I’m yours.”
“That thought has more merit than you know. Did you work this charm on his wife? If you and she—”
“Lady, I’m not into games.” Leo pulled the stack of photos from his pocket. “If you want my help, then you have to do something for me. Go talk to Brady and get what I need, then I’ll hand over these.” He fanned the photographs from the gallery in her face.
Shelley blew out a sharp breath. “You have pictures of the paintings?”
“I’m a nice guy, I get results.” Actually, Danny was the nice guy.
She nodded. “Give me twenty minutes. I’ll meet you out front of Brady’s apartment building with the key.”
Brady’s apartment building. She never once referred to the place as Brady and his wife’s apartment. Leo suspected she knew something he didn’t. Less than an hour later, they were inside Brady and Christina’s downtown Newville apartment.
Shelley slid off her shoes and sat on the brown couch. “Okay, hon. What’cha got?”
Leo handed her the stack of photos and wandered around the room. The apartment wasn’t what he’d expected for two models, one an art student. Sparsely furnished, the whole place was void of any personality. No artwork, no color, no warmth. The most personal thing in the living room was a photo of Brady and Christina in Vegas that hung on one wall. Christina’s eyes were red-rimmed and her smile seemed forced and sad.
“These are Gage’s paintings?” Shelley asked. “Not very talented, was he? Most of them look like something a kindergarten kid would make. Wow, except these. Any idea who the woman in the white shirt is? She’s gorgeous.”
“That, my dear, is Rose Ryan.” Leo opened all the kitchen cupboards, noting the lack of food of any kind. Two plates, two mugs, and an assortment of mismatched glassware sat in one cupboard. He guessed they didn’t entertain much. The smell of garbage from the can beneath the sink nauseated him.
“She’s stunning. I can see why you’d want to be her White Knight. What would someone as gorgeous as her see in a clown like Brady Ryan?”
He didn’t answer too busy searching the apartment, with no idea for what.
Shelley followed him like a lost pup. “There’s not much in here, is there? For Brady and Rose being a couple of happy newlyweds, this place isn’t much of a home.”
“Not really.” He headed for the bedrooms.
“Obviously one’s his, you can tell from the stale cologne and scattered clothing scattered all over.” She stood behind him and peeked over his shoulder. “The other room must be hers, but there isn’t much here. Most women would have a lot of clothes and makeup. More color and frills. This place is more like an army barrack.”
“Why would newlyweds have separate bedrooms?” Leo wasn’t sure if Shelley was keeping an eye on him so he didn’t steal anything or if she was just curious about her odd client. He walked into the second bedroom. The bed was carefully made. Next to it, stood an old turquoise dresser, its paint chipped and faded. The whole room seemed neglected, void of passion, as though Christina hardly ever spent time there.
Not like he was one to criticize. He’d never put much effort into any place he’d ever lived. He was sure it stemmed from a background of having nothing. Christina didn’t have that excuse.
Shelley sat on the bed. “I wonder if she actually went home to help her family or if it was just a convenient excuse to leave Brady. I sure as hell would have jumped at the chance.”
Leo opened the closet, empty except for four large suit bags. The first one he opened held a school uniform complete with white button up shirt, blue
blazer, and plaid skirt. In the bottom of the bag lay a pair of loafers and white knee socks. “What the hell?”
“What’s in there? Another body?” Shelley nudged him aside and opened the remaining bags. Each held one or two glittering costumes. “Ooh, kinky. These look like stripper clothes. Either Gage or Brady made her dress up for fun, or she had a job Brady never told us about. I doubt she’d want her parents to see this stuff.”
Leo studied the sequined G-strings and corsets. Apparently, he’d underestimated Christina Davidson. “Maybe the living with Brady were temporary and she planned to move on as soon as a better opportunity presented itself. A family emergency is as good an opportunity to walk away as anything.”
“Could be.” Shelley sat on the edge of the bed. “Maybe she planned to move in with Gage and kick Brady’s butt to the curb. That would be one motive for Brady to kill Gage.”
Leo raised both eyebrows. “You’re his lawyer. You’re supposed to prove his innocence, not find more reasons for him to be guilty.”
“It’s all part of the game.” She smiled. “So, what’s our next move?”
“My next move is to head back to Packham. I have a date.”
Shelley winced. “Oh, please don’t tell me it’s with Brady’s wife.”
He stared out the window. “I promised her dinner and I’ve already stood her up once. I also have a few questions for her about Brady. If you’ve got anything you want to know, make me a list.”
“Aside from how he could be so stupid? Nah, I’m good.” She shook her head. “You’d better give me your cell number though in case something important comes up.”
After Shelley left, reluctant to let Leo stay in Brady’s apartment alone, he sat in the sparse bedroom and called Danny. “What do you know about the Davidsons?”
He snorted. “This town’s full of Davidsons. Which ones?”
“Mel and Daisy.” Leo stared at a faded blue wall, empty except for a lone spider web in one corner.
Danny seemed caught off guard. “They’re okay. I went to school with Clancy, who was always a bit of a clown, but he’d always do good things for people. I thought he’d end up either a paramedic or a politician, the notion of him becoming a tattoo artist never crossed my mind.”