by Maisie Dean
“We’re done for the day. You’re welcome to head home now,” Harrison said.
I picked up my purse and shut down the computer at my desk. “I’m happy to come along,” I offered.
Harrison hesitated and then spoke. “I...can’t pay you any overtime. It’s not in the budget, even for me—”
“Don’t worry about it,” I told him. “If I can help make up for nearly derailing the case with my wacky alter-ego theory, I owe it to you anyway,” I said. “Plus this case has gotten under my skin. I want to see it through.”
“Okay, suit yourself,” Harrison said. The two of us did a quick sweep around the office, turning off the lights and pushing in our desk chairs. There seemed to be a lightness, a bounce to Harrison’s step that wasn’t usually there.
“Unless you’d rather go alone…” I said.
Harrison was flicking off his desk lamp and he turned around quickly to face me.
“No, no. It’ll be a nice change of pace to have the company,” Harrison said.
“Do you not usually have company at this time of day?” I said coyly. For some reason I held my breath. There wasn’t anything wrong with my remark. It was after hours, after all.
Harrison paused and seemed to be searching for something to say, but then he flashed me a wide Booker smile and gave a small laugh.
I let out my breath.
“It’s a nice change,” Harrison repeated.
“Excellent. It’s a win-win situation then,” I said and shot him a smile. We met each other in the middle of the room and walked side by side to the front door. At the same moment we both reached for the door handle. Our hands brushed and Harrison pulled back abruptly.
His cheeks got rosy. He mumbled something that sounded like an apology.
I swung open the door, and decided to have a bit more fun with my buttoned up boss. “I’m not sure what kind of company you’re looking for, but—”
Harrison’s eyebrows shot up high on his forehead and he was shaking his head. “I should say that I enjoy your company because you’re smart, and...and your optimism is contagious,” Harrison said. The compliments tumbled out of his mouth so fast and earnest that it made me burst out laughing. Harrison had to shoot his hand out to catch the closing door I’d let go of in my surprise.
“I’m completely kidding. But, thank you. That’s nice to hear.”
It looked like it was his turn to let out his breath. He gave another shaky laugh and rolled his eyes at me.
“After you, then,” he said.
“Thank you.” I slipped through the door and headed down the stairs, trying to swallow a joke about getting locked inside the office overnight.
CHAPTER 16
The clock on Harrison’s car showed six p.m. on the dot as we turned onto Annie’s block. Traffic had been ridiculous, although expected. It was LA in the evening, after all. We were lucky to arrive on time.
Harrison pulled over a few houses away down the block and the two of us stepped out of the car. I recognized Owen’s white Smart car across from Annie’s house. The windows were tinted so I couldn’t see Lucky, but the driver’s side window was rolled down a couple inches.
I wish I could’ve walked over to say hello. Whenever Lucky or Harrison crammed themselves into Owen’s two-seater, their large frames looked awkward and oversized, as if they were driving a clown car. This evening, though, it would be better not to be seen to be affiliated with the stakeout car.
Harrison walked confidently down the sidewalk. I had to speed up my pace in order to match his strides.
“Which neighbors wrote the note?” I asked, trying to recall whether Lucky had mentioned it on the phone.
Harrison’s brisk pace slowed to a pause. “Lucky,” he mumbled under his breath. “He didn’t tell us.” Harrison didn’t acknowledge that he hadn’t asked either. I decided not to bring that up.
Harrison pulled out his phone to send Lucky a text. He wasn’t more than fifteen feet from us, but Harrison wasn’t one to break protocol. I stood slightly behind Harrison so that he blocked me from view if Annie or the mysterious Busty were to look through the window. The house to the left was a minimalist, traditional bungalow. It was an off-white color with an orange circular window near the front door. The house on the other side of Annie’s was more modern, but also a bungalow. The whole thing was a pale gray, including the front door.
A whooshing sound accompanied a text from Harrison to Lucky, and Harrison tapped his phone against his palm while he waited for a reply. Two taps of the phone later, Lucky cracked open the white car door.
“Orange window,” Lucky shouted.
Harrison’s head snapped toward the car like he was trying to locate the source of gunfire. He lifted up both hands and grabbed his head, his phone pushing against his right temple. Lucky waved and shut the door.
Harrison looked at me with wild eyes. “Why is he the way that he is?” Harrison groaned. We both glanced up and down the street to see if anyone had witnessed the exchange. The sidewalks were empty, except for a couple empty garbage cans tipped on their sides.
Harrison took a deep breath and slid his phone back into his suit jacket pocket. “After you,” he said.
I walked the remaining feet to a low, black chain-link fence and unlatched the handle. An orange tree took up most of the space in the front yard area. A ring of stones lined the dirt mound it grew out of. There were a few other garden plots, but they didn’t appear to have received any attention in recent weeks. I hopped up the two steps onto a small porch. Harrison took the two steps as one and stood by my side. There was a small, brass door knocker in the shape of a fox, as well as a white doorbell to the right side of the door. I pressed the button for the doorbell, but when I couldn’t hear any sound in response I lifted the knocker a few times.
The door creaked open on the third knock, and I caught a glimpse of a woman with black hair in the gap.
“Hi there, you were expecting us?” I asked.
The dark haired woman nodded but didn’t speak. She opened the door wider to usher us in.
Harrison and I followed her down the hallway. The old-looking wooden floorboards were shiny with a kind of restorative varnish. On the walls were framed photos of waves breaking on a sandy beach. They reminded me of the kind of images that came with the frames themselves. Our strange host led us into a living room with a low, woolly couch, and a couple of those odd chairs that were comprised of many strong, plastic covered lines. One of them had a sheepskin lying across it for a more comfortable rest. There was an off-white, painted brick mantel and fireplace. The unusable space was filled up with a few smooth stones and some tall, thick white candlesticks.
“Sit, please,” the woman said. “My name is Vivian, Vivian Quinn.” Vivian’s voice was high pitched and squeaky. It sure wasn’t a voice I would want to hear every day.
Harrison and I both opted for the low couch, and Vivian eased herself down into the chair with the sheepskin.
Vivian was around my height and she looked to be around thirty years old. She didn’t appear to be wearing any makeup, but the dark color of her hair, eyebrows, and lashes created a severity in her look. Her black hair cut off abruptly at her shoulders, and a piece of it was pinned back carefully against her head. Her thicker arms extended out from the short sleeves of a high-necked, red tee shirt. She also wore a pair of jeans that flared at the bottom. She was wearing black clog-like shoes, which struck me as odd.
“What can we do for you this evening?” I asked her.
“I heard about the insurance claim issue, you see, poor Annie. Is the case coming along well?” she asked. “She’s such a good person, it’s such a shame she’s wrapped up in all this,” Vivian added.
“It is unfortunate. Tell us, Ms. Quinn—”
“Oh, call me Vivian,” Vivian interrupted. “Ms. Quinn makes me feel old.”
Unfortunately for her, the name Vivian itself felt old without any help.
Harrison forced a thin-lipped smile.
“Vivian,” he restarted. “Do you know your neighbor Annie well?” Harrison asked. The expression on his face looked more like sleepiness than curiosity.
A frown crossed Vivian’s face briefly and then she smiled again. “Sure I do. I mean, not as a close friend, but as a neighbor,” she said.
Harrison stayed silent instead of asking a follow-up question.
Vivian kept looking between Harrison and me.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Vivian asked, suddenly getting to her feet. “Coffee? Tea? How about some iced tea?”
“No,” Harrison said.
At the same time as he said no, I answered, “Iced tea would be nice, thank you.”
Vivian nodded and padded further down the hallway in her clogs.
Harrison’s knee bounced up and down, which looked uncomfortable considering that he was so large on the small couch his knees were actually higher than his waist. He huffed and checked his watch.
I elbowed him in the ribs. “Would it kill you to be polite? Do you have a hot date or something?” I joked. “ I thought you said you didn’t have any company this evening.”
Harrison didn’t retaliate against my nudge. “No date. It’s clear to me that Vivian is nothing more than a nosy neighbor. A lookie-loo. A drama llama—”
I snorted and quickly had to cover my mouth to not laugh too loud. “A drama llama?” I asked.
Harrison ignored my outburst. “She wants to be a part of something, but she doesn’t know anything helpful.”
I regained my composure and looked around Vivian’s living room. A large window displayed the colors of the setting sun falling against the side of Annie’s house. The oranges and corals were reflecting off their living room window. I couldn’t see inside with the glare and the color. I wondered if they were able to see back into Vivian’s house like a one way glass.
“We’re already here. Let’s see if anything comes up. It can’t hurt to be thorough.”
Harrison tightened his crossed arms.
Vivian returned with a wooden tray and three full glasses of iced tea. She’d added a fresh lemon wedge on the rim of each one.
“Thank you,” I said warmly.
Harrison just nodded his thanks, reluctantly freeing one of his stiff arms.
There was an awkward silence. I was about to fill it when Harrison did.
“Do you know Annie’s roommate Busty?” Harrison asked.
Vivian’s eyes widened. It could have been recognition because she said, “Yes, of course. You certainly can’t miss her.”
Harrison laughed without any authentic humor in his voice. “You really can’t, can you?” he said.
It looked like it was on me to keep the peace.
“Vivian,” I said, before Harrison could launch again. “Have you spent time with Annie and Busty together at one time?” I asked.
Vivian looked at me strangely. “Yes, of course. It’s been a couple months but we had a barbeque back in January,” she said. “Why do you ask?”
I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head casually. “Our work is all about gathering facts,” I said.
Harrison gulped down the remainder of his iced tea. “Ms… I mean, Vivian, do you have any helpful information to share with us?” he asked.
Vivian leaned back a bit in her chair. She cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes.
I hastened to smooth out the situation. “What my partner means is, can you think of anything that we may not know already?” I said gently.
Vivian took in a breath and her eyes darted to the window. “I just know that insurance companies can be really tough these days,” she said. “I just wanted to help. Anything so that poor Annie can get a big settlement and not have to work for a long time. Hopefully she’ll be able to get treatment for those awful headaches of hers too. Poor girl,” Vivian said. She had a long face, and her eyes looked glassy. She kept glancing out the window toward Annie’s house, as if to catch a glimpse of her to make sure she was alright.
I followed Vivian’s gaze and saw that although the sun had set low enough for the glare on the window to disappear, the blinds inside Annie’s house were drawn and I couldn’t see anything inside.
Harrison left out an audible huff and stood up from the small couch. “You know, Ms. Quinn, I hear there are online sites and meetups around the city if one is needing some social time and a chat,” Harrison said.
I didn’t know where he was going with that but it didn’t seem good.
“Did you sign up, Kacey?” he asked me, but didn’t wait for my reply. “I know I did not, Ms. Quinn. We are hardworking detectives and we don’t have any time for this—”
“Excuse me?” Vivian said. She’d brought her hand to her mouth. Her eyebrows were scrunched low and close in the middle and high at either side of her face.
I tried to jump in. “I’m sorry, Ms...Vivian. My partner, he’s just—”
“Teaching you a lesson about not wasting people’s time,” Harrison interjected.
Vivian was speechless. She looked at us like a couple of wild animals that had accidentally gotten into the house.
“We’ll be leaving now,” I said, shooting daggers through my eyes at Harrison.
Harrison kept on going. “I’m really just doing my civic duty, educating—”
“Let’s go, Harrison,” I nearly shouted at him. What was he doing? I thought I had behaved badly on the case, but Harrison’s behavior had certainly taken things up a notch.
“I’m sorry, Vivian,” I called over my shoulder as I pushed the arguing Harrison out of the room. It took all my strength to corral him down the hallway and out of Vivian Quinn’s house.
CHAPTER 17
I pushed my tall, irritated boss toward the exit. To his credit, despite his verbal protests, he let me maneuver him out of the situation rather easily. He was far too large of a person for me to manhandle against his will, but he allowed me to guide him down the hall as he kept his lecture to Vivian going through the wall.
By the time we’d reached the end of Vivian’s hallway, it was Harrison who reached out and yanked the door open. I knew his tolerance for unhelpful people was low. Very low. But it had been a long time since I’d had a first-hand reminder.
He was about to walk through the door when I reached up and grabbed his shoulder. Something had caught my eye in the row of coats hanging near the door.
“Harrison, look,” I said, and pointed to a black jacket with a logo patch on the breast pocket. The logo showed a guitar sitting up on an angle. It was the familiar fifties-inspired decal of the Rockburger logo! I looked over my shoulder. The hallway was empty. Vivian must have still been too stunned to leave the living room after Harrison’s outburst.
Harrison stuck his hands into the jacket’s pockets. He pulled out a few old business cards that were bent at the edges and dirty in some spots. “They’re Neil’s,” Harrison said. Harrison’s demeanor changed. His eyes narrowed and he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Vivian!” Harrison called suddenly.
Vivian must have thought we’d left when Harrison had opened and closed the front door, because she made a bit of a yelping sound upon hearing Harrison’s voice again. She quickly cleared her throat to cover to sound.
“Vivian, can you come over here for a moment,” Harrison said.
I widened my eyes at him and whispered. “Have you been spending too much time with Lucky?” I asked.
Harrison ignored my question. “Please,” Harrison added to his request to Vivian.
Vivian appeared around the corner of the entry to the living room with her arms tightly crossed.
“Is this your jacket?” I asked quickly, before Harrison could launch in again. I held up one of the sleeves of the black coat with the patch.
I figured I should do the talking to mitigate the possibility of the agency getting sued for Harrison’s antics.
Vivian shrugged. “No. It must belong to one of the girls,” she said.
“One of the girl
s, meaning Busty or Annie?” I asked.
Vivian nodded.
“I see,” Harrison said. “So, one of them must have left it over here the last time you all...what? Got together for wine? A movie night?” Harrison tilted his chin up and stroked it.
Wine and movies? Many women definitely enjoyed those things, but I had to prevent myself from suggesting they could have easily been playing poker or watching a sports game as well. It was not the time, however. I made a mental note to rebuke Harrison later.
“Exactly,” she said. Vivian lifted her own chin higher into the air. “They came over to watch the last awards show, whatever it was. Annie loves the red carpet.”
Harrison took a step toward Vivian, but there was still about five feet between them. He held up the business cards.
“Nice try,” he said. “Unless you or one of them go by ‘Neil Meeks—Manager,’ this jacket doesn’t belong to any of you ladies.”
Vivian’s eyes narrowed at Harrison and her arms tightened even further at her sides.
“Fine, that’s Neil’s jacket. He’s my...he...we’re dating,” Vivian said. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Not my...not my business?” Harrison asked. “Kacey, do you think this is my business? Do you think that Ms. Quinn should have led with information like that?” He turned his whole body toward me as if we were having our own private conversation.
I turned back toward Vivian. “I think that we’ve overstayed our welcome. It’s time to go, Harrison,” I said again.
This time I opened the front door and stepped outside. Harrison didn’t follow right away so I turned back to see what the holdup was.
Harrison pulled his own business card out of his pocket. He extracted it from a small metal case. The edges and corners were straight and crisp. He held the card out to her and then turned on his heel when she took it. “Next time you get the urge to help,” he said over his shoulder, “skip the cryptic notes and use that.”
Harrison closed the door firmly behind him. A couple steps down the stone path I heard the click of a firm lock from inside the house. Harrison had been a bit outrageous. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to be sure she was rid of us.