Couldn't Cheat Death

by A. P. Eisen

  Paul slipped the pad out of his pocket. “What happened today between you and Troy?”

  Her lips pursed, as if from a combination of tasting lemon and smelling something rotten. “I’ve used him on the covers of my best selling series of books—His Conquest, His Passion, His Desire, and His Eternal Love.”

  “All four?”

  “Yes. It’s the continuing story of a man’s quest to find true love.”

  “I see.” Not really, but what could he say? “So you’ve worked together before?”

  “Once, last year, when I went to a small con in San Diego.”

  “Did you ever have a personal relationship with Troy?” It was a reach, as Troy had never mentioned being with a woman, but Paul figured he had to ask.

  “No. Of course not.” The shocked expression on her face was almost comical. “He’s too young, for one, but more importantly, he’s gay. Not into me.”

  “Did you know he and Jerry were a couple?”

  “Jerry told me after we were…together. I didn’t know before.”

  “But you said you were supposed to meet him a second time. So at that point you knew he was with Troy.”

  Her expression grew livid. “Can I go now, Detective? I’m a little shaken up and would like some alone time.”

  “Of course,” he said smoothly. “We can talk later.”

  She shot him a stony look, then stormed off toward the elevators.

  Sirens filled the air as a police car drew up in front, and he met the two officers at the door. “We have him sequestered in a back room. He shoved a female to the ground and punched me in the jaw.” With the rush of adrenaline he hadn’t paid much attention to his face, but now the soreness had begun to sink in, and it throbbed.

  “Yeah. We can see. You got a nasty bruise there, Bulldog.” Officer Fisher, a barrel-chested man in his early thirties, pointed at him. “That’s gonna hurt like a bitch tomorrow.”

  Fisher’s partner, Oliver Washington, gave him a rueful grin. “You must’ve been caught off guard. I don’t recall you ever getting your clock cleaned in the five years I’ve been on the force. Better get some ice on it.”

  Before he could answer, Cliff, who he hadn’t realized stood next to him, held out an ice pack. “Here. I was waiting for you to finish before giving you this.”

  “Thanks.” He met Cliff’s clear-eyed gaze and placed the ice pack on his jaw and cheek. “I appreciate it.”

  “Of course. Do you want to take them to the room where Duffy is holding Troy?”

  “Yeah.” He glanced over his shoulder at the officers. “Let’s go.” He followed Cliff, trying to resist the urge to touch the man’s waist. He shoved his hand into his jacket pocket, just in case.

  They opened the door to see Troy sitting slumped in a chair, his hands still cuffed. Duffy and another giant of a man stood on either side of him.

  “He’s behaving?”

  “Yeah. Quiet as a sleeping kitty, ain’t you, Troy?”

  He looked terrible, nothing like the red-faced, out-of-control man of earlier. His face was ashen, and his eyes had taken on an odd yellowish tinge.

  “Read him his rights, and I think he should be taken to the hospital. He’s been cycling on and off steroids.”

  “Ohhh, boy. Okay, you got it.” Fisher and Washington approached Troy, and Paul nodded to Cliff.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  The door closed as Paul heard Washington Mirandizing Troy. “You have the right to remain silent…”

  “How does your jaw feel? That was some wallop you took.” Cliff pointed to a hallway. “We can go this way and bypass the front desk.” After a few twists and turns, Cliff produced a key and opened a door, which led to the hallway behind the registration desk. Cliff opened his office door, and Paul walked inside.

  He grinned and lowered himself into the chair. “Not my finest hour, I’ll admit.” He took the ice pack off his jaw and handed it to Cliff, who put it on his desk, then leaned over to take a closer look.

  “You’re getting a big bruise right here.” Cliff touched Paul’s face with his fingertips. Paul barely breathed while Cliff traced his jawline. “Make sure you keep ice on it.”

  “I will,” he said gruffly.

  Cliff’s hand rested on his cheek. “I happen to have an automatic ice maker. If you’d like to come by for dinner, I can keep you in ice chips all night.”

  The words hung in the air between them. The implication was clear, and Paul knew Cliff had presented it in this manner to give him the choice.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Cliff shocked himself when he invited Paul for dinner and…whatever else, although he knew what he’d like to happen. Watching Paul get knocked down by the enraged man freaked him out, but when it was evident Paul wasn’t hurt, when he got right up and subdued Troy, a thrill shot through Cliff. Seeing Paul all dominant had been pretty damn exciting. He backed away and sat behind his desk before he did something stupid like kiss Paul.

  Maybe Paul felt the same way, because his eyes darkened and he licked his lips. “Yeah. I think I’d like that. I have an interview at five o’clock. Rob is picking me up at four thirty. I can ask him to drop me off at my apartment, and you can pick me up from there.”

  It would’ve been too much to expect Paul to have his partner take him out to Cliff’s house. After all, how would he explain it? Plus—and here’s what he hoped Paul had in mind as well—if Paul did plan to stay over, he’d need a change of clothes for the next day.

  “Okay, that sounds good.”

  Paul exhaled and worked his jaw. “Ouch. Listen, I hate to bother you, but I’m starving. What’s a guy have to do to get something to eat around here?” He arched a dark brow.

  And as much as Cliff liked the growly Paul, he really, really liked the teasing light in Paul’s eyes. “Do you want me to order something here, or would you rather go to the bar and eat?”

  “The bar would be good.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Cliff locked the door behind him, and he and Paul struck out across the lobby to the bar. Amy Parsons was serving with a trainee, and both were busy but not overwhelmed.

  “Back again? That was some ruckus out there.” She acknowledged Paul. “Do you want some ice for that bruise?”

  “I’ll be all right, but thank you.”

  “Actually, now Detective Monroe would like something to eat. If you’re too busy, we could order in my office.”

  “Nah. It’s all good.”

  “How’s it working out?” Cliff tipped his head toward the new employee.

  With her hands in motion shaking a cocktail, Amy answered, “Fine, fine. He’s coming along.” She poured the drink and served it, then placed a menu in front of Paul. “Let me know when you’re ready to order.”

  Paul scanned it quickly while Cliff watched Amy serve the other customers.

  “I’ll have a turkey club, no mayo, please. And fruit instead of fries. Oh, and an unsweetened iced tea.”

  She laughed. “You two are twins.” Still laughing, she put in the order at the register.

  Paul cocked his head. “Twins?”

  “I ordered the same sandwich for lunch earlier.” Cliff lowered his voice. “I guess we like the same things.”

  Paul’s eyes darkened, but he said nothing. Amy set a tall, thin glass of iced tea in front of Paul and one in front of him.

  “Thanks,” Paul said. “Is it hard for Mason to understand why you’re not around as much?”

  “Yeah, but I’m happy to be making more money. Now I can afford to get him the things he needs, plus we don’t have to live on pasta five days a week. I’ll be right back with your food.” A customer grabbed her attention for a beer, and then she left the bar to get Paul’s meal.

  “Was Amy the only one to pick up Jerry’s shifts, or did anyone else get some of them?”

  Thinking back to the reports he’d checked earlier, Cliff said, “You know, I think so, but can’t be certain. It’s easy enough
to find out. We can ask Amy—”

  With a shake of his head, Paul stopped him midsentence. “I’d prefer not to.”

  “All right. We can either go to my office and check, or after you finish eating, we can ask Jade in the restaurant. She’d know.”

  “Okay.”

  Amy reappeared, holding Paul’s plate, and he hadn’t been kidding about being hungry. Like everything else he did, Paul ate his food with quick yet precise determination, and Cliff wondered if sex with Paul would be as neat and tidy. He remembered their kisses and the glorious messiness of his mouth and tongue and dismissed that thought. He drank the cold iced tea quickly to shut down his contemplation of what might happen later.

  “Ready to go when you are.” Paul had his wallet out, but Cliff shook his head.

  “On the house.”

  “No can do.”

  Amy stood watching them. “Put it on my bill, Amy. My treat.”

  Paul opened his mouth to protest, but Cliff gave him a quelling look. “It’s a ten-dollar sandwich, not filet mignon. For that, you’re on your own.”

  They were still laughing as they crossed the bar to enter the quiet of the restaurant. It had just opened, and only one couple sat at a table by the window, but Cliff knew by six o’clock it would be a madhouse. Jade Kennedy stood at the rear, and she rushed over to greet them. Wariness clouded her eyes, and it saddened Cliff to know their relationship had been compromised. He wondered if they could ever return to that easy place where they once were before Jerry’s murder.

  “Is anything wrong?” Her gaze homed in on Paul, her icy demeanor an indication neither of them was her favorite person at the moment.

  “I’d like to ask you a few more questions, if you have the time,” Paul said.

  Considering the emptiness of the restaurant, Jade would’ve been hard-pressed to come up with an excuse.

  “Okay, but I don’t have anything new to tell you.”

  “Ms. Kennedy. I’m not here to ask why you didn’t tell me you already knew of Jerry’s affairs yet didn’t bother to tell us when we questioned you.” The dark bruise spreading across Paul’s jaw up to his cheek gave him a somewhat menacing appearance despite the casual tone of his voice.

  Red bloomed across her cheeks. “I…I wasn’t thinking straight. You have no idea what it’s like finding out someone you love has been murdered and you’ll never see them again.”

  Shit.

  Cliff darted a glance at Paul and caught the ragged edge of his grief before he regrouped and forced his lips into a thin smile. “I’m not about to get into a discussion on that, Ms. Kennedy. Let’s just say the wisest course of action is to always tell the police everything, no matter when you remember it. But as I already said, I’m not here to ask you about that.” He pointed to a booth in the corner. “May we sit a moment?” And without waiting for her answer, left Cliff with Jade to take a seat.

  “I didn’t—”

  Cliff put up a hand. “Don’t. I’m not here to be your listening post. If you tell me anything, I’m going to tell Detective Monroe.”

  “I thought you were my friend.”

  “I am. I don’t think you killed Jerry, but you’re not making it easy, Jade. Now, I wouldn’t keep the man waiting.” Seething, she walked a step behind him.

  They sat in the booth, him next to Paul and Jade across. Paul pulled out that ubiquitous pad.

  “I’m interested in the schedule you’ve set up for the bar since Jerry’s death. Obviously you have to plan ahead.”

  “Oh. Yes.” Jade straightened in her seat, her surprise at the question evident in the quick rise and fall of her brows. “Well, normally it would be difficult to find replacements for the busy weekend shift because the staff already have their own schedules, but Amy was ready to step up. She’s saved us for this weekend at least.”

  “Are you giving her the weekend shift on a more permanent basis?”

  Jade’s brows knitted together. “I have to keep the shifts in rotation, so no. But for now, she was the first to offer when I asked the staff, and she’s already got the experience, so I know she can handle the crush.”

  “I see. Did anyone else offer? Or do you only need one person?”

  “Oh, no. I always have two bartenders. Dusty is the other bartender. He’s been with us a while now.”

  Cliff liked the pleasant young man whose dimples, unflagging smile, and curly hair made him a favorite among the customers and staff alike.

  “Did he normally work the weekend shift? Does he still? I haven’t heard about him.” Paul sounded aggrieved, as if he should’ve known.

  “Yes. He and Amy worked together until Jerry replaced Amy.”

  Paul tapped his pen on the table, his brow furrowed in thought, and Cliff, whose closest involvement with the police came from watching crime shows on television, found it fascinating to watch it unfold in the flesh. Then again, everything about Paul Monroe in the flesh fascinated him.

  “So can I ask, why did you replace Amy with Jerry? Why not Dusty?”

  “Look. Jerry and Dusty worked really well together. They’re both attractive and knew how to keep the drinks flowing. Amy…” She hesitated, then seemed to come to a decision and continued. “Amy gives me the creeps. Sorry. She watches people. Not that her work isn’t good. She keeps the bar moving, just not as fast as Jerry. If you’d seen him in action, you’d understand.”

  “Is that true?” Paul asked him. “Was Jerry a better worker?”

  “I hate to say better, but he did have a better rapport with the customers.”

  Paul chewed the end of the pen. “Tell me what you know about the relationship between Jerry and Amy.”

  “Relationship?” True puzzlement emanated from Jade. “They had no relationship.”

  “Well, they had some kind of friendship, because Jerry used to watch her son on occasion.”

  “What? Watch Amy’s son? Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”

  “Jerry and Amy were friendly only because they worked together. They had no contact outside of work.”

  “Ms. Kennedy,” Paul spoke with both patience and kindness. “I know you and Jerry were close, but obviously there were things about him you didn’t know. Isn’t it possible you didn’t know he watched Amy’s son?”

  A deep-red blush crept over her face. “I mean, yes, it’s possible, but it doesn’t make sense.”

  “Lots of things don’t make sense in a murder case. That’s why we need all the facts. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “I do. And I’m sorry I wasn’t open with you in the beginning.”

  “Is there anything else you want to tell me now?”

  Her eyes darted to Cliff, who held her gaze with clear-eyed certainty. “Remember what we talked about before? I think you should make sure before you leave this table that the detective knows everything.”

  “I did know that Jerry was cheating on me. I knew he was with other men as well as women.”

  “And you thought to keep this from us, why?”

  “I didn’t think it made a difference.”

  “You didn’t think…” Paul trailed off, shaking his head, and Cliff knew if this wasn’t a murder investigation, it might’ve been comical. “Please, Ms. Kennedy. Tell me. Tell me everything.”

  She reiterated the same story she told Cliff, without repeating that she was glad Jerry was dead. Cliff didn’t believe that anyway. People said things in the heat of the moment when they were hurting. He’d done it, told Lincoln when they broke up that he hated him, wanting to hurt the man for not loving him enough.

  “So you knew he was with other people. How did that make you feel?”

  “Angry. Hurt. And yes, vindictive and jealous. I won’t deny it.”

  The strong muscle in Paul’s thigh tensed next to him. “I see.”

  “But I wouldn’t kill him. I couldn’t. However much he hurt me, I couldn’t do that. I planned to take him off the schedule.
That’s how I was going to get retribution.”

  “And we should believe you now?” Paul asked in a curt voice. “What will you remember tomorrow or next week?”

  “Nothing, I swear. It was the shock of everything. And knowing when I spoke to you and the other detective that you’d already heard from the people Jerry had been with.”

  Cliff handed her one of the white cloth napkins on the table, and with a watery smile she took it and dabbed at her eyes.

  “I think that’s all I need for now. But we might be back again to talk.”

  Jade fisted the napkin and held her head high. “I didn’t kill Jerry. I swear to you. That crazy boyfriend probably did, when he saw Jerry and me leave the night of the book party and knew Jerry had made his choice. Jerry was afraid of him.”

  “He was?”

  Eager to speak now, Jade nodded. “Yes. He told me how Troy was cycling on and off steroids and that his temper was out of control. The only reason he hadn’t broken up with him was because he was afraid Troy would hurt him physically.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Kennedy. You’ve been very helpful.”

  Cliff slid out of the booth, and Paul followed him out of the restaurant. The bar had begun to fill up, and Amy was serving the customers, but her gaze remained on Jade in the restaurant.

  “What do you think about Jade’s information?” Cliff’s steps halted, and he and Paul faced each other by the lounge area.

  Paul checked his phone. “Rob is going to be by in a few minutes to pick me up. We can discuss this after, at dinner.”

  As much as Cliff wanted to be involved in the investigation, his intent for the upcoming evening was not to talk about murder.

  “Maybe. But maybe there will be other things we want to discuss?”

  A faint blush crept over Paul’s cheeks, his discomfort oddly sweet to Cliff.

  “Yeah. Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll see you later.”

  Cliff watched him push through the front door, ignoring the automatic ones, and in a moment a dark-green sedan pulled up, Paul got in, and the car drove away.

  Maybe.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN