I dropped the metal detector on the ground. “We’re following this whole thing because of the note, right? We’re trying to figure out what Nina meant by that note.”
“I know what she meant,” Frank said bitterly. “She wanted to leave him, and I didn’t get the message.”
If I could have punched him, I would have. “So what’s the point, Frank? We know who killed Nina. We know who killed you. Mintz is dead. So why are we bothering? We’re not trying to find answers for anyone living, are we?”
He stood there silently, his hands in his pockets.
I looked around, but we were completely alone. Nobody could see me ranting like a crazy person. “I’m doing this for you, okay? To help you find peace or resolution or… whatever, but I’m doing all this for you. Do you want me to drop it?”
He still said nothing.
“Seriously?”
Nada. Zip. Zilch. He wasn’t even looking at me anymore. He was staring at the Calvary Cemetery chapel, watching the sun go down.
“You’re such a jerk, Bogie.”
I shook my head, picked up my metal detector, and started walking back to the car. This was ridiculous. I was trying to solve a mystery that didn’t need to be solved. Everyone it mattered to was dead, including the guy who’d bugged me about it to begin with. Maybe he couldn’t stand to let the past lie, but I could.
I was done with his baggage. I had a life. I had a job.
I was done.
8
Life and Other Stunning Revelations
By Friday, I was ready for the week to end. I dressed up for the opening of the cafe, but my heart wasn’t in it. I couldn’t get excited about the event. Sure, I wanted to flirt with Jackson. And okay, maybe Farah. But it wasn’t as much fun without my Bogie, and Frank hadn’t made an appearance since I’d left him at the cemetery.
I was pissed, but I was still feeling mopey about going to the party without Frank. After all, when I was with my Bogie, I was never alone. Even if my company was dead.
Maybe I needed to work on that. I made a mental note to look up “codependency” online.
My black sheath dress was ripped across the middle, which would normally leave my belly showing, but I had personal issues with showing skin. My nan had sewed a panel across it made from sari fabric she’d bought in India when she went a few years before. The fabric made the dress bohemian. The rips made it punk. Exactly how I liked it. I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs, waving to my mom and nan as I left.
“Is Frank going with you?” Mom called.
“Nope!” And I didn’t care. Which was a total lie. I even found myself taking a deep breath by someone who’d been smoking.
Definitely look up codependency.
It was Friday night, but traffic wasn’t completely awful, so I made it to the cafe in under an hour. Parking took almost as long, but the wait was worth it. I stepped in and immediately felt like a rock star.
Jackson had put a picture of the five of us—Farah, Jonny, Cristiane, Randy, and me—on a placard by our wall. It was a promotional shot we’d done at our last collective meeting, and my hair had been a vivid purple. People all over the cafe were staring at the wall and pointing out different elements of the project. Farah’s section had the biggest crowd—he was already holding reluctant court in the corner—but my portrait gallery had a pretty decent audience too. Cristiane waved and gave me a big smile and a thumbs-up I returned.
I grabbed a glass of red wine and allowed myself to flow with the audience. I waved at acquaintances and shook lots of hands, answered questions about my painting and my background in LA. I was a native, therefore I was a curiosity to the imports. And there were so many imports. I ended up mingling in a group of Jackson’s friends from the East Coast. Ten minutes into the conversation, I’d made myself at home as the random colorful local.
Apparently Jackson had lived in Brooklyn before he’d moved to LA. But that was “so over,” and he was loving the opportunities on the West Coast. His mother in Omaha must have thought the people were friendlier too. Had I met her yet? Because apparently she was great.
If I thought it was a little odd how familiar Jackson’s friends had instantly become, it felt even more odd when he came up beside me and draped an arm over my shoulder.
I babbled incoherently. In my head.
“You met Linx, I see.” He was all smiles and good humor. “You guys all saw the wall, right?”
“So amazing.”
“Darkness and light.”
“Dynamic.”
“Such a great idea to capture the urban aesthetic with street art instead of the usual…” Blah blah blah.
I’d heard art-speak before, and I’m not gonna lie, who doesn’t love compliments? But it was Jackson’s glowing face I couldn’t stop returning to. He was just so nice. And I liked nice! He was smart. Accomplished. Ambitious without being an asshole. Beyond the crush-on-the-cute-boy thing, I realized I could really, really like this guy.
“Linx!”
I turned toward the familiar voice. “Raul?”
I made my excuses with Jackson and his friends, then walked over to the bar. Raul was standing there with a date.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said. “This is Langdon. Lang, this is Linx.”
Langdon looked about as interested in meeting me as he was in the wine he wasn’t drinking.
I shook hands with him anyway. “Hi!”
Langdon looked over the party. Clearly I wasn’t the most interesting thing there.
Raul smirked at him and walked away with me. “He’s pretty.”
“Then you match. What are you doing here?”
“You talked about this place so much, I figured I’d check it out.” He looked around and sipped his glass of red. “Amazing, baby. Those eyes are insane and crazy and I love them. Farah really needs to stop with the blood though.” Raul made a face. “So hot, yet so emo.”
“Wait.” I frowned. “I thought this was invite only.”
He sipped his wine. “It is.”
“So how did you get in?”
“I called them and asked if I could come.”
“You just… called up and asked if you could come to the private opening of a cafe to which you have no real connection?”
“Yes. I called the number listed on the website and a girl answered.” He plucked a passing chocolate truffle. “I told her I was a friend of yours, I drink a lot of coffee, and I have fifty thousand followers on Instagram. Also that I was hot and was bringing a hot date. Could they put me on the guest list please?”
It could never be said that Raul lacked confidence. I’d never even thought about doing that before, just calling and inviting myself to parties. I wondered if it would work in galleries.
“Wait.” I blinked. “You have fifty thousand followers on Instagram?”
“Yep.”
I might need to get more Instagram fans. I think I had closer to five thousand, and half of those were spam accounts. Of course, I also didn’t look like Adonis or have a washboard stomach. Raul had me beat there.
“So whatever happened with glamour girl?” he asked. “Did you and your mysterious sources find anything we didn’t know already?”
Yes, but not anything I can share with someone who doesn’t see dead people.
“Doubt it,” I said. “I thought there was a story, but—”
“Oh! I meant to tell you that if you want to see her medical records, the paper chasers found them. I could get a copy for you. I didn’t even know hospitals kept records that far back, but I guess they have to.”
I blinked. “Medical records?”
“Yeah, because of the cancer.”
Whoa. Record scratch. What?
“What cancer?” I asked.
He frowned. “I thought you knew. I mean, the pathologist thought it probably started out as ovarian cancer, but it had gone into her bones, so by the time she died and you could see— Oh!” He snapped his fingers. “That’s right, you didn�
�t want to see the bones. I forgot about that.”
“Nina King had cancer?” Shit shit shit.
“Bone cancer. Sad, right? I saw a picture of her they found in the police file. She was a knockout. I guess it sounds like the guy who killed her was a real asshole, but you probably knew that.”
This changed… What? What did it change?
One of those threads was waving in the wind, practically begging for me to tug it, but there was something I wasn’t seeing.
Raul continued, “The pathologist said it looked like she’d have been dead within six months if she hadn’t been murdered.”
Oh. OH.
I had seen it.
And so had Frank.
She’d been so thin. It wasn’t from stress like Frank thought. It hadn’t been the stress. Nina had been sick, and she knew it.
I don’t have time…
It doesn’t matter anymore.
Meet me at Aunt Mary’s house.
I handed Raul my wine. “I gotta go.”
9
The Note
I’m not going to lie about climbing over fences. Considering the people I hung out with in high school… I’d climbed over a lot of them. Chain-link was obviously the easiest, but the fence at Calvary Cemetery shouldn’t have been that big a deal. And it wouldn’t have been if I hadn’t been wearing a dress.
Let’s just say that if you were hanging out on South Eastern Avenue on Friday night, you got a show. Hope you enjoyed my Spanx. You’re welcome.
I landed on the grass and grabbed the duffel bag I’d thrown over, then I made my way across the black graveyard.
Spooky? Not really. Graveyards at night were usually pretty peaceful, but they were hard to navigate. I found the main path and made my way north to the baby angel playing a harp by a bench. Then I turned right and followed the path I’d first walked with Bogie days before.
Maria Cordoba’s grave didn’t look any different than it had the other day, but this time I’d come prepared. I still had my metal detector, but I’d also stuffed a few more things in my duffel. Lockpicks (thanks, Granddad), a penlight, and various blades I could use to pry things up. I was thinking Nina had buried a lockbox of some kind, but there was no way of being sure until I looked.
Whatever I was looking for was something Frank was meant to find. As soon as I’d learned about the cancer, something in me knew that Nina King had never intended to meet Frank Bogle at her aunt’s grave. Nina had left the note because she wanted Frank there for another reason. She’d left a message to confuse him because she knew Frank well enough to know that he was a bulldog about finding the truth. Leaving a confusing note was like throwing red meat to a tiger.
I looked around, but the Calvary Cemetery was silent to me. If my nan had been there, she’d probably have had a field day. Ghosts love to hang out where people spent a lot of energy on their memory, and very little drew as much emotional energy as their grave. But I didn’t feel anything around Maria Cordoba’s grave, not when I searched with my flashlight. Not when I got down on my knees with the metal detector.
I kept waiting for Frank to pop in—I’d thrown the door wide open on my end—but he hadn’t. A tiny frightened part of me wondered if he’d moved on. He couldn’t. Not until he knew the truth.
Nina hadn’t been a victim. Not at the end.
The metal detector wasn’t giving me any love, not even near the base of the gravestone. I didn’t want to dig up the whole area, so I grabbed the ice pick I’d brought from my nan’s kitchen and methodically pushed it into the soil all around the stone.
Still nothing.
If there was something buried, I was missing it.
Words from Frank’s last memory of Nina drifted through my mind: I got a brother who works for a stone mason…
Aha.
I grabbed the penlight and shone it on the base of the Maria’s grave. Inch by inch, I crawled along the base of the marker, wiping away grass clippings and dirt to reveal the marble.
It was in the center of the back that I found the seam. I grabbed my pocketknife and scraped at the edges, revealing a thin rectangle almost the same dimensions as a letter box. I managed to work the tip of the blade into the seam and wiggled it to loosen the marble.
Whoever Nina’s brother was, I hope he went on to a long and successful career, because that was some seriously detailed work.
It must have been an hour later that I managed to work the marble cover from the gravestone. It was only half an inch thick and concealed a small crevice where a rolled-up piece of paper was wrapped in yellowed cellophane. The cellophane cracked as I rolled it open, but the stationery was the same as the letter found with Nina’s body and showed very few signs of age.
I felt Frank’s cool presence settle beside me on the grass.
“She was sick,” I said. “Cancer. Raul told me tonight. She had six months at the most.”
His energy spiked, but I didn’t see him move and he didn’t speak.
I carefully unrolled the note and held the penlight up so I could read it aloud.
* * *
“Dear Frank,
* * *
If you found this, then I’m dead and you got the note. I hope it doesn’t get you in too much trouble, but it seemed a more likely story if I was running away with a lover when Pete found me. I knew you and my mother would be able to back up the story in court if you needed to.
* * *
Did you figure it out, Frankie? I’m trying my best, but I’ve never framed a man for murder before. I just hope it works and someone finally throws Pete Mintz in a hole. God knows I haven’t done anything worth much in this life. Maybe I can do something with my death.
* * *
I’m done, Frank. I’ve known for months, but I couldn’t tell you. That night at the club, I wanted to, but I couldn’t.
* * *
Thank you. For everything. If you can watch out for my mama and Eddie, I’d appreciate it. I think Eddie knows something is up, but he doesn’t look at me the same way as he used to. Doesn’t see me.
* * *
No one does, not even you.
* * *
If we’d met in a different life, we could have talked about music instead of murder. We could have danced some more.
* * *
Maybe if I do things right, I’ll meet you in the next one, handsome.
* * *
All my love,
Nina”
I wiped away tears and sniffed loudly. I felt a cold brush along my back. Frank’s version of a hug.
“She killed herself.” I sniffed. “She wasn’t a victim, Frank. She tried to put Mintz away so he couldn’t hurt anyone else.”
“When did you know?”
“When Raul told me about the cancer. She was so thin in your last memory. As soon as he told me, I put it together.”
He was silent for a long time.
“I didn’t see it,” he said softly.
“You were trying to catch the bad guy.” I shrugged. “You had a job to do.”
“But she was my friend.”
The way he said it, I wondered if he’d ever admitted it aloud. “Just a friend?”
He stared at the note on my lap. “You got my cigarettes?”
I pulled a box out of my duffel. “I’ve been carrying them around for a couple of days.”
“Light up, kid.”
10
I Like the Sunrise.
Frank waited for her steps to near, then he opened the door to the dark hallway and pulled Nina into the broom closet near the ladies’ room. She tried to scream, but he put his hand over her mouth and turned her quickly. Her terror died when she saw him.
“Frank,” she hissed. “What are you doing? Pete’s got guys all over this club. You trying to get me killed?”
“You didn’t go to your ma’s.”
There was something in her eyes, but he couldn’t figure it out. He was too wracked with worry. Until she’d walked into the jazz club on
Mintz’s arm that night, he’d thought the worst. Nina never missed a visit with her mother. Even when her brother had stopped coming, she never missed a visit. Bruises. Bleeding lips. Black eyes. Frank sometimes thought Mintz messed up her face just to humiliate Nina in front of her family.
But that night there were no bruises—not even a trace of them as he examined her—but she still hadn’t come.
She lifted her chin. “I had… a thing. Something I needed to do.”
“Something more important than visiting your ma?”
His hand was on her wrist, and he felt the pulse pick up.
“Nina, what’s going on?”
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Tears flooded her eyes.
“Nina?” An entirely unprofessional panic nearly stole his breath. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t.”
Frank took her in his arms. He’d have given anything at that moment—his body, his badge, anything—to save her.
He just had to fix this. Put the bastard away. If he put Mintz away, she could have a life again. She could put herself back together. They could…
It wasn’t about that. It couldn’t be about that. He was doing the right thing. That was all.
The right thing.
“Dance with me, Frankie?”
He opened his eyes. Nina looked up with those dark eyes that killed him. “What?”
“Just dance with me.” She tried to smile. “Nobody ever dances with me, and they’re playing my favorite song.”
Frank heard the bass saxophone moaning from the stage before the singer started in on “I Like the Sunrise.” Without another word, he took Nina’s hand in his and drew her close, wrapping an arm around her waist as she laid her head on his shoulder.
A Ghost in the Glamour: A Linx & Bogie Story Page 7