“Did you really believe someone was shooting at you?” It was all too much to comprehend.
Sara broke eye contact and looked away.
“I didn’t know. How could I have known? And I sure as hell wasn’t going to hang around to find out.”
“Did you visit Montague in the hospital?”
“Is that your way of asking me if I killed him? And his name was Donnie, not Montague.”
“Donnie, Montague, whatever. The poor kid who’ll never live to see his full potential. Did you visit him in the hospital?”
“No, I thought about it, but figured I’d caused enough problems for the poor guy.”
Cullen nodded thoughtfully. Then she had another question.
“And when I read to you about the other kid? The one that OD’d at that frat party? You could have said something then.”
“What?” Sara said. “What did you want me to say? Oh, by the way, I’m ninety-nine percent sure I sold the coke that killed him? Is that what you wanted me to say?”
“I don’t know.” Cullen struggled not to raise her voice. “A little heads-up would have been nice. So the police went after Donnie?”
“Yep. Cops were crawling all over him. I provided him with my attorney and told him to keep his mouth shut, but he was getting scared and thinking of naming his source.”
“You.”
“Me.”
Cullen felt a chill creep up her spine. So Sara definitely had a motive for wanting to kill the guy. But did she do it? She swore she didn’t, and Cullen tended to believe her. She had been honest when she told Julia she didn’t see Sara as a murderer. She wouldn’t hurt a fly, of that Cullen was certain.
“Let’s go get breakfast.” Cullen stood.
“I’m not hungry. I think I want to take a nap.”
“You do that. I’m going out. I need to think, to clear my head. I’ll be back.”
She got in her truck and drove to her favorite diner. It was after eleven by then, so she ordered a chili burger and sat sipping more coffee.
Cullen reached into the pocket of her jeans and slid out Julia’s card. She turned it over in her fingers. She had no more information. She had no reason to call her. She slid the card back in her pocket. She should hate Julia. Detective Stansworth. She should be angry at her for trying to pin a murder on Sara when Cullen knew she was innocent, so why wasn’t she? Why was she looking forward to seeing her again, regardless of the circumstances?
Chapter Three
Monday morning arrived and Julia was in her office rereading every report she could find on the Montague shooting and subsequent murder. He’d been in the hospital for two days when he’d been killed. Whoever had done it had been smart. They’d adjusted his morphine IV so he overdosed. They’d gotten in, opened it up, and left before he flatlined to avoid any suspicion. And no one at the hospital remembered seeing anyone entering or leaving his room.
Did the person in the video have scrubs on under their sweats? Were they able to fit in? To look like they worked there? How the hell could no one have seen anything? She was frustrated beyond words. She needed to catch a break. And then she got an idea.
That afternoon, Julia drove back to the hospital armed with the photos she had of Sara. Now that she knew who she was and how she was associated with the young victim, she could show her picture to the different nurses and attendants. Surely someone had seen her that fateful afternoon.
She approached the nurses’ station on the sixth floor and showed her badge.
“What can we do for you, Detective?”
“I have some pictures of some suspects I’d like the nurses to look at. I’d like to know if anyone remembers seeing her here before.”
The nurse buzzed Julia in. Julia took out the photos and showed them to the nurses who were busy charting.
“Let me know if any of these women look familiar to any of you, please. Pass them around.”
Everyone took their time looking at the pictures, but one by one, they shook their heads.
“Isn’t this the boy that was murdered here?” a nurse asked.
“Yes, that’s him. And these are persons of interest, but that’s all I can say.”
“I wish I could help you, Detective, but they don’t look even remotely familiar.”
Damn. Julia had had such high hopes someone would remember seeing Sara.
“Thanks anyway.”
She gathered the photos and went back to the station. She pulled up the video from the hospital again and froze it when she saw the person in sweats appear on the screen. The photos she had of Sara were mostly from the shoulders up as she was leaning on her open car door talking to Montague, but there was one full body pic, and she held it up next to the frozen frame. Try as she might, she couldn’t be sure it was Sara on the hospital video. Sure, it could have been her, but then, it could have been anybody.
How had someone been able to slip into the kid’s room unnoticed? Where had his family been? His friends? Anyone? How had he been left alone and how would someone have known he’d be by himself?
Unless someone sat in the waiting room watching the room. That had to have been what happened. But surely someone would have noticed that, right?
It wasn’t making any sense. She had other cases that needed her attention, but this was the one she wanted to solve. Montague was killed because he was about to finger his supplier. She would have bet her life on that. And now that she knew who that was, she just had to find a way to put two and two together. But how?
Cullen Matthews. Somehow she’d help nail Sara, Julia was certain. Maybe not intentionally, but if she could trip her up, she’d spill the beans. She grabbed her coat and drove downtown.
The ad agency of Logan and Bremer was on the corner of Southwest Fifth and Stark, in an old building that had been renovated on the inside while keeping the old façade from the eighteen hundreds.
She read the directory in the lobby to learn which floor she’d find Cullen on and rode the posh elevator with green leather up to the fifth floor. She walked up to the receptionist.
“I’m looking for Cullen Matthews. Is she in?”
“Is she expecting you?”
“No. I’m an old friend and I’m here to surprise her.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.
“I’m really sorry,” the receptionist said. “She’s in a meeting right now.”
“I’ll wait.”
Julia sat in a wingback chair in the reception area. It wasn’t uncomfortable, really, but it certainly wasn’t the most comfortable chair she’d ever sat in. It was bright blue to match the blue and red decor in the office. She slid her laptop out of its case and, glad her back was to the wall for confidentiality reasons, opened her files on Montague.
Sara had said she’d been with Cullen when Julia had originally asked her where she’d been. Had Cullen had that day off? Could Cullen provide Sara with a much-needed alibi? Julia shook her head. She was getting ahead of herself. Sara didn’t need an alibi. Not yet, anyway. Soon maybe. Hopefully.
Julia was lost in her studies of the hooded person from the hospital when she was interrupted.
“You wanted to see me?” There was no ignoring the chill in Cullen’s voice.
Julia stood.
“Great to see you again, Cullen. Do you have an office or somewhere we can talk?”
“I have an office, but I don’t have much time. Come on back, but make it quick.”
“Will do.” Julia slid her laptop back into its case and followed Cullen down the hall to a large office. Cullen sat behind the mahogany desk and Julia took a chair across from her.
One wall of her office was covered in plaques and certificates.
“You look like you do good work,” Julia said.
“I’m one of the best.”
Julia arched an eyebrow. Had Cullen grown arrogant? Or was she simply confident? And why did it matter?
“What do you need?” Cullen said. “Or is this a social visit?”
“Unfo
rtunately, no. This is a business visit.”
“Okay. What do you want from me?”
“I need to know, Cullen. Did you take October twenty-seventh off work? It was the Friday before Halloween. Did you get a head start on the holiday?”
Cullen leaned back in her chair and laced her fingers behind her head.
“That’s important, isn’t it?”
Julia stared at her for a minute.
“Very. And, again, I’ll remind you this is a murder investigation. Lying could make you an accessory.”
“Sara didn’t kill Donnie,” Cullen said.
“Donnie?”
“Montague. Yes, she knew him. No, she didn’t kill him.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I know her,” Cullen said. “I know her very well. She’s not a killer.”
“You didn’t know she was a coke dealer did you?”
Cullen shook her head slowly.
“No. I didn’t know that.”
“So you don’t really know what she’s capable of. Isn’t that the truth?”
“I know she couldn’t hurt, much less kill, another human being.”
Julia could appreciate Cullen’s loyalty, misguided though it was.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“What was the date again?”
“October twenty-seventh.”
“No, I didn’t take it off. I love Halloween but didn’t request extra time off for the holiday.”
“So you don’t know where Sara was all that day, do you?”
“No.”
Julia barely heard Cullen’s whispered answer. She started to stand.
“Wait,” Cullen said.
“What?” Julia sat back down. “I thought you didn’t have much time.”
“Julia, you have to believe me. Sara’s not the murderer.”
“She’s got the motive and the opportunity. She’s looking pretty good in my book.”
“Motive? What motive?”
“You know as well as I do,” Julia said. “Montague was going to finger Sara as his dealer. She couldn’t have that, so she killed him.”
“You can’t really believe that.”
“Yes, I can.”
Cullen thought back to Halloween weekend. She and Sara hadn’t been seeing each other very long. Some of Cullen’s friends were having a Halloween party Saturday night. Sara had suggested they go as a gangster and moll. She remembered meeting Sara for dinner at the House of Good Fortune that Friday night. How had Sara been? Had she been distant? Subdued?
All Cullen could remember was Sara’s excitement at having found the perfect costumes for the two of them. She’d eaten a normal dinner, so she clearly hadn’t been upset about anything. If she’d just killed someone, surely she’d have been remorseful. She’d have lost her appetite or something, right?
“I don’t know.” Cullen brought herself back to the present. “I saw her that night after work and she seemed normal. I can’t imagine she’d have wanted to meet for dinner if she’d just killed somebody.”
“Killers are cold-blooded creatures.”
“See? Sara’s warm, caring. Anything but cold-blooded.”
“Tell me about that night.”
“We had dinner then went back to my place. There’s nothing more to tell.”
“And the rest of the weekend?”
“I guess she seemed fine.”
“What did you do?” Julia said.
“Let’s see. I remember dressing in my double-breasted suit and fedora and picking her up. She was wearing a black flapper dress and looked adorable. We headed to a friend’s house for a party.” Cullen smiled at the memory.
“And at the party? How did she act?”
Cullen exhaled as she thought back.
“She was fine. She saw some people she knew. She would disappear with them for a while, then come back out to where I was hanging out on the porch. Um…then we went inside and danced for a while. She was all smiles, like she was really having fun.”
“Was there food? Did she still have her appetite? Or had guilt settled in?”
Cullen remembered the buffet that she’d enjoyed. Sara had said she wasn’t hungry. But Sara often wasn’t hungry, which Cullen now attributed to her coke habit.
“Cullen?” Julia prodded her.
“She didn’t eat. But for all I know, she might have been doing coke. I mean, that would make sense, right?”
“Sure, it would. Or she might have been dealing with guilt.”
Cullen reminisced some more about the end of the night, when she’d told Sara people would be asking her questions about her, and Sara had asked what she’d say. Cullen had told her she would tell them Sara was her new lady. Sara hadn’t responded right away. Why was that? She’d finally said that would be great, but it sure had taken her a while. Now Cullen wondered if Sara was thinking about protecting her. She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. Julia was planting illogical thoughts in her head.
“She sure wasn’t acting guilty,” Cullen said. “She seemed to be having fun. Honest, good, down-to-earth, innocent fun.”
“I think you’re blinded to the truth. How long have you two been seeing each other?”
“About five weeks or so.”
“So you don’t truly know her, do you?”
“I know her well enough.”
“Cullen, I’m asking you as a friend. Please be careful with Sara.”
“There’s nothing to be careful about. Thanks for trying to watch out for me, but I can handle my life. And my life includes Sara. She may be a coke fiend, but she is not a murderer. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”
Julia rose.
“I’ll see myself out.”
Cullen couldn’t concentrate after Julia left. She tried to lose herself in her work but couldn’t do it. She didn’t need to be there. She needed to be with Sara. She called and Sara answered on the first ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, babe. How does Chinese for a late lunch sound?”
“Aren’t you working?”
“I think I’m going to take the afternoon off. You want to meet me?”
“I don’t have a car, remember? Why don’t you come pick me up?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Cullen disconnected and checked out for the afternoon. She got on I-5 which was a parking lot. Her stomach growled, and she told herself to be patient. She’d be home soon. It took forty-five minutes to go the twenty miles to Sara’s house, but she got there and found Sara sitting on the porch swing.
It was a beautiful sunny day in Bidwell. It was crisp but nice, and Sara looked beautiful sitting there in her jeans and black sweater. She came down the step and got in Cullen’s truck.
“You look amazing.” Cullen leaned over and kissed Sara.
“So do you. But then, you always do.”
“Thank you. You hungry?”
“I am.”
Cullen drove to the House of Good Fortune, but it didn’t look open. She parked her truck.
“You wait here. I’m going to go see what’s up.”
“Be careful, Cullen. That looks like police tape.”
Cullen walked up to the front door. It was indeed covered in police tape; crime scene, it said. She put her hands on the door so she could see inside and there were cops crawling all over the place.
“Back away,” a male voice said. “This is a crime scene.”
“So I see.” Cullen stepped back and turned to see a man who looked to be in his mid fifties with a pot belly and tight sport coat approaching. “What’s going on?”
“You ever been here before?”
“I come here all the time.”
The man handed her a card.
“I’m Detective Magnell. My partner Silverton and I are working the case. This place was big in drug trafficking. You mind if I ask you a few questions?”
Cullen felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. Drug trafficking?
Was that why this was Sara’s favorite restaurant? She thought back to the odd fortune she’d gotten there one night about a week before she and Sara had started seeing each other. It had said, “The drop will be at Mayfields at seven o’clock on the tenth.”
Mayfields was a popular department store downtown. What sort of drop had they been talking about and, more importantly, who was the message for? Clearly, there had been some mix-up, she’d thought at the time. She remembered now that Sara had been waiting for a to-go order as well. Had the message been for her? Had it been about cocaine?
“Ma’am?” Magnell said. “You with me?”
“I’m sorry. Sure, I’ll answer any questions you have.”
“Have you ever seen any shady looking characters hanging around the place? Anybody who looked out of place?”
“No, sir.”
“What about suits? Overdressed people? I don’t mean just your regular Joe coming in after work, I mean, jewels, the works.”
Cullen shook her head.
“I never saw anyone who looked like that here. Everyone seemed so normal. And their food was delicious. Maybe you guys have made some mistake?”
“No mistake, ma’am. Now, can I get your information for my records?”
Cullen gave him her full name, address, and phone number. He thanked her for her time and she walked back out to where Sara waited. Cullen had so many questions she didn’t know where to start, but she knew she had to find out if Sara was involved.
“What’s going on?” Sara said. “Who were you talking to? Why the police tape?”
“Apparently, they were running drugs out of the restaurant. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Sara turned in her seat so she faced Cullen.
“Of course not!”
“Okay. Just checking.”
“Cullen, not all drug dealers know each other.”
“I’m not saying they do. I’m just thinking you spend an awful lot of time here.”
“I love their food, and you spend a lot of time here, too, yet you don’t see me accusing you of being a drug runner.”
“I didn’t accuse you. I merely asked.”
Scene of the Crime Page 3