Couldn't Cheat Death

by A. P. Eisen

  Cliff rubbed his jaw in thought. “About Jerry and Amy. I’m assuming because she trained him, they got to know each other. And I’ve met Mason; he’s a sweet kid, really tugs at your heartstrings. So because Amy helped Jerry, he probably wanted to return the favor.”

  “Makes sense.” Paul wiped his sweaty forehead with the bottom of his T-shirt. “Well, I’d better get upstairs and shower. I don’t know when or if I’ll be at the hotel today.”

  Cliff’s smooth jaw tightened. “I’m busy too. You know where to find me if you need me for anything.” Without a backward look, he walked to his car. Paul watched him drive away and waved good-bye, but Cliff either didn’t see or ignored him, because he didn’t acknowledge it.

  Annoyed with himself for concentrating on Cliff instead of the investigation, Paul hustled across the street and up to his apartment. He needed to get over to the station, find out what happened to his car, and give the sand over to the lab. His gut told him something had changed between them when Cliff had answered him about never hooking up with an employee. There was a story there, but Paul didn’t have time to dwell on it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Cliff arrived at the hotel on autopilot, and for the first time, didn’t bother to stop and chat with the front-desk staff. He closed the door to his office, took the seat behind his desk and sat, letting his coffee go cold.

  I don’t date employees.

  Technically, Roland hadn’t been an employee—he’d owned the hotel Cliff worked for at the time. And he’d relentlessly pursued Cliff, getting tickets to the hottest concerts and taking him out to dinner where he’d have a special menu made up for the two of them. Cliff, who’d been young and vulnerable after losing Harley, allowed himself to be seduced.

  Their affair lasted for three years, until Roland grew tired of him and moved on to another employee, and Cliff, torn apart by Roland’s indifference and infidelity, resigned. He licked his wounds and moved on to the Starrywood Corporation, where he held himself back from forming personal relationships with the staff. It was one reason he’d moved around so much until he met Lincoln, an architect hired by the corporation to renovate their hotels. He’d swept Cliff off his feet, dazzling him with his bright light so Cliff fell hard, blinding him to the reality that Lincoln was never going to acknowledge Cliff as his lover.

  The knock on his door brought him out of his unwelcome trip down memory lane.

  “Yes?”

  Jade poked her head around the door. “Hi. Can we talk?”

  “Sure. Come on in.” He took a sip of his now cold coffee and shuddered. “I’m going to make a fresh cup. Do you want?”

  “Uh, sure. Thanks.” Her perfume arrived before she did, its scent tickling Cliff’s nose. He couldn’t stand heavy scents and remembered Paul’s light aftershave from last night and how his mouth tasted. Desire jolted through him, but he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to regain his equilibrium. He popped a pod into the machine and waited for it to brew.

  “What’s up? Is there a problem with the restaurant?”

  The coffee cup filled, and he held it up. “Creamer, sugar?”

  “No, black is fine.”

  His brows rose, but he said nothing and handed it to her. He made himself one, dosing it heavily with cream so it looked more like caramel-colored milk.

  “Now tell me,” he said after settling himself behind his desk. “What’s going on?”

  She took a perfunctory sip and set the cup on the desk. “What do you think of those cops sniffing around?”

  Obviously you have some thoughts, he wanted to say, but remained neutral. “I don’t think anything of it. They’re investigating a murder. What do you expect them to do?”

  Her bright-red nails tapped on his desk. “I knew Jerry cheated on me.”

  Cliff sat very still, his heart racing. “Wh-what? You knew? How?”

  Her eyes narrowed, the lashes so thickly coated with mascara, they resembled black slits in her pale face. “You think I’m stupid? The man was a slut. Everyone wanted him, but I got him.”

  “But why be with someone like that? You’re a beautiful young woman. Why would you want someone who treated you so poorly?”

  Two spots of red stood out on her pale cheeks. “I’m not young. I turned forty-five this year.” She touched her hair, her cheek. “I’m almost fifty.”

  “So you’d rather have someone who cheats on you than be by yourself?”

  “I don’t want to be alone. I was married when I was twenty, and my husband was killed in a freak motorcycle accident three years later. I never planned on spending my life without someone.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being alone. You have friends and—”

  “There is if it’s not what you want,” she cut him off. “I like having a man. I like sex.”

  This conversation had entered the realm of uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. “I don’t think we should be talking about this. It’s not appropriate.”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “Please. You already know Jerry and I were sleeping together.”

  “Still, I don’t know why you’re telling me this. You should tell the detectives.”

  She let out a very unladylike snort. “Those two? I don’t need to be judged by two macho men on a power trip. All cops are like that. Besides”—her voice dropped to a whisper—“I’m glad he’s dead.”

  This wasn’t the Jade he knew, the cool, confident woman who never let anything rattle her. This Jade was pale and sweating, and Cliff didn’t like where his thoughts headed.

  “Why? You said you loved him.”

  “That bastard made a fool out of me, screwing anything that moved. Bad enough that he was with other women, but when I found out he was also screwing guys?” Her face tightened. “How dare he?”

  None of this made any sense. “So you knew before he was killed that he was with men and women?”

  “We were together one night, and he went to take a shower. His phone lit up with all these notifications, so I looked. They were messages from all these guys telling him how good he was and how they couldn’t wait to see him again.”

  “That wasn’t right, to look at his phone.”

  Her brow arched, and she stared at him as if he’d turned green or purple. “He cheated on me. That gave me every right. I confronted him about it when he came out of the bathroom, and we had a terrible fight. But I had the one thing he needed.” Her lip curled. “I held his schedule. So he promised me he’d stop seeing other people.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  “For a while he did, and we were okay.” Her eyes filled. “Not great, but okay. But then the cheating started again. He couldn’t help himself—it’s like he wanted to be good, but a few weeks would pass and suddenly the excuses would come as to why he’d have to break our dates—he’d have to train someone at the gym, or he needed to catch up on paperwork. All bullshit, I know now. He was only with me to get the best shifts at the bar. In hindsight, I see it. When I saw a picture of him with another man on his phone, that’s when I knew I’d lost him. They had their arms around each other, and Jerry looked so happy. That man was young, beautiful…a model. I couldn’t compete. And the worst of it was, I kept holding on. I couldn’t let him go.” She crumpled. “I didn’t mean what I just said. I’m not glad he’s dead. I didn’t hate him.”

  Even though Paul would have to be told, Cliff had to know for himself. He left his chair and kneeled at her side. “Jade. Did you kill Jerry?”

  To his relief, she shook her head. “No. I loved him. No matter how angry I was, I couldn’t kill him.”

  Mixed in with his sense of relief was the knowledge that as much as he wanted to believe Jade, he couldn’t keep this information to himself. “I’m sorry, but you have to tell the police this.”

  “Why? There’s nothing new. So what if I knew he cheated? I didn’t kill him.” Agitated now, she stood, and Cliff rose to his feet as well. “You know I couldn’t do something like that. I couldn’t k
ill someone.”

  Considering he hadn’t known his staff were busy sleeping with each other, he surmised he didn’t know much of anything at all.

  “If you don’t tell them, I will.”

  Her lips clamped together, and without a word, she slammed out of his office. It took him a few seconds to gather his thoughts, and then he went back to his desk, pulled out the card from his wallet, and made a call.

  “Thornwood Park Police Department, Third Precinct. How may I help you?”

  “I’d like to speak to Detective Paul Monroe, please. This is Cliff Baxter.”

  “Hold one moment, please.”

  Almost a minute ticked by. “Monroe.”

  “Oh, uh, hi. It’s Cliff.” The gruffness of Paul’s greeting threw him. He’d left the man on an uncomfortable note, and maybe Paul didn’t want to be bothered with him.

  “What’s up?” Paul’s voice modulated to a different timbre. “Everything okay?”

  “Something odd just happened, and I wanted you to know.” Cliff relayed his conversation with Jade, holding back nothing, making sure to include her facial expressions. When he finished, Paul chuckled, and the deep, warm sound in his ear turned Cliff’s insides upside down.

  “You have a future in detective work if you ever decide to give up hospitality.”

  “I think I’ll stay where I am. I’m betting you’re damn good at what you do.”

  “It’s all a matter of dedication. I don’t stop until I get what I want.”

  How was it possible to make a conversation about a murder investigation sexy?

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Thanks for the information. My partner and I will be around later this afternoon. Right now we’re going through what Forensics was able to come up with so far from Jerry’s computer and phone.”

  “Oh?” If Paul was willing to talk, Cliff was certainly willing to listen. “Anything useful?”

  “I can’t talk now, but certainly interesting.”

  A brief silence, and then they spoke almost at the same time.

  “If you have time, you can stop—”

  “I’ll be over later, so if you’d like—”

  They laughed, and Cliff couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “I’ll be here, chained to the desk, so if you want to talk in person, come on by.”

  “Thanks,” Paul said softly. “I might.”

  “Talk to you later.” Cliff disconnected and stared unseeing at the phone on his desk. Both he and Paul were workaholics and strove to be the best, he by putting his personal life second, and in Paul’s case, not having one at all. Cliff had told Paul the night before that he was a risk Cliff might be willing to take, and that hadn’t changed. The hero worship from years ago had vanished, but not his desire.

  “And none of this is getting my work done,” he muttered to himself.

  Curious about the employees’ schedules now, Cliff pulled them up on his computer. They’d already begun advertising for a bartender to replace Jerry, but in the meantime, Cliff noted Jade had put Amy in for all the nighttime slots. Jerry’s shifts. He wondered if Amy wanted to be away from her son all those evenings, and seeing that she was scheduled to also work the bar starting at noon that day, he made a note to stop by and talk to her.

  The morning passed swiftly with minor complaints from guests that Cliff easily ironed out, then a back-and-forth with a food vendor who tried to substitute items without notice. Duffy had delivered the camera footage from the garage, and hopeful that Paul would stop by at some point, Cliff waited to watch the footage with him.

  At twelve fifteen, hunger and thirst drove him from his office to the bar, where Amy was cleaning glasses and chatting with the servers. When he sat down, she immediately brought him his usual unsweetened iced tea.

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you want something to eat?” She set a napkin down and placed the tall glass on top of it.

  “Definitely. I’m starving. How about a turkey club on rye, no mayo.”

  “Okay.” She entered it on the register screen.

  “I wanted to ask how you’re doing. Without Jerry around, I mean. It must be hard.”

  Her mouth drooped, and her eyes grew shiny. “You have no idea. We depended on him so much. And he was such a good person. I don’t care what people are saying about him. He was a good person.”

  The iced tea tasted cold and refreshing. Cliff toyed with the straw. “What are people saying?”

  Amy remained silent for a moment, then huffed out a deep sigh. “I don’t like telling stories, but it’s not fair. I heard people calling Jerry a slut. So what if he slept around? He wasn’t married. Jade needs to shut up.”

  Cliff couldn’t help but ask, “So you knew about the two of them?” Was he the only one who didn’t?

  “Pffft, please. She couldn’t keep her hands off him when she thought no one was looking. He didn’t like it. I have to go get your food.”

  Amy left, and Cliff drank more iced tea and thought about what she said. Jade certainly could be the killer. Wasn’t the scorned lover always the best suspect? He wondered what the other people Paul and his partner questioned had said.

  Amy returned with his meal. “Here you go.” She set the plate in front of him and refilled his glass of iced tea.

  “So Jade was pretty obvious about their affair?”

  First glancing around, Amy leaned her elbows against the bar and lowered her voice. “Well, between us, she was. At least to me.”

  “How so?” Cliff was fascinated with Amy’s story and her insight, his sandwich and hunger forgotten.

  “She’d flirt with him, and of course she gave him the best shifts. Before he got the weekend shifts permanently, he’d get these texts from her. Sexual texts.” Red spots popped up on her cheeks.

  “And Jerry showed you texts like that?”

  Abashed, Amy shifted and dropped her gaze. “Well…we keep our phones at the register because we’re not allowed to use them during our shifts. I started seeing these texts from Jade about meeting up after work, or talking about things that went on between them.” She bit her lip. “A few times she sent him pictures.”

  God, what a fucking mess.

  “I know it was wrong to look, but I’m telling you, I don’t trust that Jade. I hope the cops are looking hard at her story.”

  Keeping noncommittal, Cliff started on his sandwich. He chewed and swallowed, watching Amy handle orders in her quick, efficient style. After she rang up the final customer’s drink, she returned to him, and he decided to ask her a few more questions.

  “So I see you’ve returned to the weekend evening shifts. How’s that working out for you? Is it okay with Mason?”

  “Oh, yes. It’ll be so much better because I’ll make much more money. You have no idea how hard it was working the afternoon and losing the weekend shift.”

  A group of women came up to the bar, and Amy left him to his sandwich. Cliff’s appetite had deserted him over his conversation with Amy. Was Jade capable of murder? If anyone had asked him last week, he would’ve called them crazy. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  “I thought the food was supposed to be good here.”

  A smile broke out over his face at the sight of the sexy-as-hell Paul Monroe.

  “Hi. Want to sit?”

  “Can we talk privately?”

  That question, innocent as it was, sent a thrill through him.

  “Sure. Let’s go to my office.” Cliff stood, and Amy’s gaze found his.

  “Bye, Cliff.”

  He gave her a smile, and he and Paul walked toward the lobby. “Busy morning?” he asked Paul.

  “Yeah. How about you?”

  They passed the front desk and walked down the hallway.

  “I heard some interesting things I think you should know.”

  “Oh?” Paul quirked a brow. “Rob is at Flex, where Jerry worked. I’m glad I came early, then.”

  To hell with it. Cliff had no desire to hide anymore. “I’m
really glad you came early too.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  People thought the noise of the precinct was distracting, but Paul found it invigorating. Earlier that morning, the moment he stepped through those doors, his blood quickened and his pulse raced. Here was where the meticulous combing through mountains of paperwork and checking and rechecking facts and documents took place.

  He spied Rob on the phone, and at the wave of Rob’s hand, Paul hastened past the other desks to join him. At his approach, Rob said something into the phone and hung up.

  “Hey, that’s some serious bullshit with your car. You okay?” His concerned gaze searched Paul’s face.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. I cabbed it over here, but that’s going to get old and expensive sooner rather than later. Anything new?”

  “They didn’t find any fingerprints on the knife, of course. Or anything unusual in Jerry’s car. Still waiting on results about the sand.”

  Paul withdrew the evidence bag from his pocket. “We need to send this to the lab to see if it’s a match. I’m wondering if our killer spends his or her time at the beach.” He set it down on the desk.

  “It’s great that you managed to get a sample. Lemme call them for a pickup.” He made the call, and after a few minutes charming whoever was on the other end to get it done that day, Rob hung up with a grunt and a smile. “They’ll be by this morning.”

  Paul poured himself a cup of coffee from the urn and held up a cup, but Rob shook his head. “Our boy Troy sure has a nice tan, but that’s most likely fake.”

  “Yeah.” Paul took a seat next to Rob. “Wonder what else is with him.”

  “I get a weird vibe from Troy, but that could be from his steroid use. I’ve seen guys like him at the gym. They’ve got this controlled rage about them. Like one wrong move could set them off.” Rob swiveled side to side in his chair, deep in thought. “If Jerry pissed him off, it could’ve been game on.”

  “True. But then it would’ve been in the heat of anger, not in a garage with a knife. That’s textbook premeditated.” He sipped his coffee, recalling the video of the killing.