Margot Harris Mystery Series : Box Set 2 (Margot Harris Mystery Series Two - Twisted)

by Nora Kane

  “If I were you, I might take up making it a regular accessory.”

  “You wearing a vest, Radcliff?”

  “No.”

  “Good thing for you I brought two extras. If you’re going to be hanging around her all the time, maybe you should take it up as well.”

  “I suppose maybe I should.”

  Ames went to his trunk and Radcliff and Margot got out and followed him.

  While they put on Kevlar vests, Ames loaded a shotgun that was in the back as well.

  “Let us lead the way, Margot,” Ames told her.

  “If I’m here to talk Mal into surrendering, hiding behind you two won’t do us any good. Besides, I’m the one with the key.”

  Ames looked over at Radcliff who shrugged before he said, “If she’s coming along, she’s coming along. Front or back doesn’t matter that much.”

  “No one is asking why you didn’t get a warrant if I open the door. Marv gave me the key, so I think that implies permission for me to enter and once I’m inside, I can invite you in.”

  “So, technically a legal entry,” Ames said with a nod of approval.

  “Not exactly choirgirl behavior, but I guess it’s okay,” Radcliff added.

  Margot let them into the building. It was late enough that no one was on the streets and even if they were, this was the kind of neighborhood where armed men and women heading into a building wasn’t as odd an occurrence as it would be in most others.

  Margot couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like this was one of the units with some lights on. Margot put in the key. She turned it as slow as she could, hoping to be quiet. Marv clearly hadn’t oiled the lock anytime in the last decade so it was noisy despite Margot’s efforts.

  They all stood to the side as Margot pushed the door open. When nobody shot at them, Margot darted inside.

  The lights were off in the front room, but Margot could see light coming from what she figured was the bedroom. Ames turned on the lights. There was no furniture in the front room so there was nowhere for anyone to hide. They cleared the kitchen, finding some empty take-out containers in the trash. The three of them moved to the unit's single bedroom.

  There was no one in there either, but there was a sleeping bag on the floor. If someone was inside, they had to be in the bathroom, so opening that door was the most nerve-wracking moment of the night. No one shot at them there either.

  There was no one in the bathroom, but the floor was covered with blood splatters and so was the countertop and the sink. When Radcliff pulled back the curtain on the shower, they found a dark green hoodie that was also covered in blood.

  “That look familiar?” Ames asked.

  “Yeah,” Margot said as her shoulders slumped.

  “This is a good find,” Ames said. “Why the disappointment?”

  “I was still holding out hope Mal wasn’t involved. That belongs to the shooter from this evening. I’m pretty sure Marv didn’t give Viuda Negra a key to this place. It had to be Mal. Even if he didn’t drive the car, he’s involved.”

  “You know—” Ames began.

  “—Don’t,” Radcliff interrupted, sensing his partner was about to tell Margot some version of ‘I told you so’ at a time she didn’t need to hear it.

  “It’s okay,” Margot said, “he’s not wrong. I should have seen this a long time ago.”

  Chapter 10

  With the police now staking out Marv’s condo and APBs out on both Mal and a woman with a bullet wound, there wasn’t really anything else for Margot to do. She went to work, planning to tell Mrs. Dithers that her husband wasn’t cheating on her, at least on Tuesday, and continue checking social media for people trying to defraud the insurance company.

  When Ms. Collins said Mr. Dithers was here to see her, Margot figured she’d misheard and Mrs. Dithers was going to walk through the door, but she was wrong.

  “How can I help you?” Margot asked the man she followed last night as he came in and sat down.

  “She’s already bragging,” Mr. Dithers said.

  “Who?”

  “My wife, who if she has her way, will soon be my ex-wife.”

  “I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “She’s your client. She had you follow me.”

  “Is that so?”

  Mr. Dithers leaned forward and looked Margot in the eye. She got the feeling he felt this was intimidating. To some it might be, but after being shot at, Margot had a hard time worrying about getting the hard stare from an aging banker.

  “You need to tell me what you saw last night.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “I’m not asking.”

  “Your tone implies a threat and as a banker, I’m sure you’re familiar with the phrase, ‘Don’t write a check with your mouth that your ass can’t cash.’”

  Dithers leaned back; it was clear he was reassessing his strategy. After a few moments, he said, “She lied to you. She didn’t hire you to catch me cheating, she hired you to catch me making the drop. She was well aware of what was going to happen. She either wants you to go to the police or wants to hold the threat of going to the police over my head to shatter the prenup she signed.”

  Margot wasn’t sure how to reply.

  “Look, I’m not a criminal—not by profession, anyway. I made a mistake and got into business with some people who are criminals by profession and if they find out what you did, both our lives will be in danger.”

  Margot considered her answer for a second and then said, “I’m under no obligation to run over anything I find to anyone. Including your wife. If she hired for a specific task, the only information she has any right to is that specific task.”

  Dithers let out a breath. He looked relieved.

  Before either of them could say anything else, Ms. Collins poked her head through the door.

  “There’s someone here to see you. They are very insistent. I can tell them to wait, but they really wanted me to tell them they’re here.”

  “Who’s out there?” Margot enquired.

  “Cassandra Cole.”

  “I think we’re done here anyway,” Mr. Dithers said.

  He left and Margot followed to see who was waiting in the lobby.

  Standing by Ms. Collins' desk was a woman about Cassandra’s age with a similar sense of fashion, but it wasn’t Cassandra.

  “I know,” the young woman told her, “I’m not what you expected, but she sent me. She wants to meet you.”

  “She needs to go to the police.”

  “I told her the same thing, but she wants to talk to you first. She would have called you, but she lost her phone.”

  “I know.”

  The young woman took a folded sheet of paper out of her back pocket and handed it to Margot. Margot unfolded it and found another address on the inside.

  “Is this where Cassandra is?”

  “It’s where she’ll meet you in an hour. She said you have to come alone.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then how did you get this address?”

  “She came to my place and asked me to do this and then she left.”

  “Do you have a name?”

  “I do, but I’m going to keep it to myself. I don’t want to be involved in this beyond handing you that piece of paper.”

  “She decided she really wants the interview I promised her?”

  Cassie’s friend replied with a blank look.

  “You know, for her show?”

  Another blank look for a long second before she said, “Oh yeah, the show.”

  “You’re not familiar with Cassie’s show?”

  “Look, I said I’d give you the address, and I did that.”

  The young woman turned around and walked out. Margot considered detaining her but decided against it. Instead, she hustled back to the office and grabbed her purse. On the way back to the lobby, Margot did the same purse check she’d done last night, even th
ough nothing had changed. Finding all her weapons were in place and ready to go, Margot went to the window and watched. If Cassie's friend was fast enough, all this would be in vain, but she was still in the parking lot talking on the phone.

  After a short conversation, she backed out of her parking spot and turned right.

  Margot ran out the door.

  She was glad Cassie’s friend went right since there was a long stretch of road before she could turn one way or the other. This gave Margot a chance to follow. If Cassie’s friend hadn’t drawn a blank on Cassie’s YouTube show, something a trusted friend would surely be familiar with, Margot might not have followed her. With her odd answer, Margot thought she pretty much had to. She had the distinct feeling whatever was going on wasn’t quite what the unnamed young woman said it was.

  Just as Margot got on the road, she saw Cassie’s friend take another right. Margot hit the gas and made the same turn. She was glad to see Cassie’s friend was still going straight. Margot was able to get within two cars back.

  Since she had her solidly in her sights, Margot got out her phone and called Radcliff. She wasn’t surprised when her call went to voicemail. Unfortunately, homicide detectives were busy.

  Margot left a message: “Cassie told me to meet her an hour from now at 1414 Surfrider Way unit four. She told me to come alone. I’m headed over there now.”

  She figured Radcliff would ignore the part about coming alone, and he and Ames would head over there themselves. She hoped they didn’t scare Cassie away, but after last night, she decided she was done leaving Radcliff out of the loop when it came to murder investigations.

  If Cassie's friend was telling the truth, they might even beat her there. She had no idea where this person lived but figured with an hour to work with, she could tail her there and then still have time to reach the rendezvous with Cassie.

  Margot matched Cassie’s friend as she headed west. At first she wondered if she and this young woman lived near each other, but she continued farther north once she reached the coastal area.

  Margot watched Cassie’s friend pull into the parking lot of a condominium complex on the coast. It was in a neighborhood that was pretty much the opposite of the condominium Marv owned on the east side of town.

  Margot passed by the parking lot and was starting to think about heading for the rendezvous early when it struck her that she was already there. Cassie's friend was parked at 1414 Surfrider Way. Margot was fairly certain she would be headed up to unit four.

  Margot circled the block; just like last night, she was looking for the white Buick rented by Mal’s alias Dennis Thorn. Like the night before, she didn’t see it. Margot parked and headed inside. On the way to the door, she checked to make sure her purse was open and her gun was within easy reach.

  For a second, Margot considered waiting for Radcliff and Ames, but she went on. There was a good chance all she’d be doing was talking to Cassie, and she figured she could do that long enough for the two of them to arrive.

  Margot reached the door but, instead of knocking, she stopped and listened.

  She heard Cassie’s friend say, “It’s done.”

  “She’ll be here in an hour?” The voice that replied didn’t sound much like Cassie at all—unless she’d gained a thick accent and talked like English wasn’t her first language.

  “Yeah, like you said, once I mentioned Cassie, she was all over it. She tried to play it cool, but she’s going to be here.”

  “You tell her to come alone?”

  “Of course.”

  “Will she?”

  “I think so. I think whoever this Cassie is, she’s important to her.”

  “Okay, get out of here. You don’t want to be around for the next part.”

  Margot had a feeling she wouldn’t like the next part either.

  She stepped away from the door and started to head back to her car. This was definitely one where she was going to leave it to the police. If she’d read the scenario correctly, Viuda Negra was waiting inside to kill her. She didn’t really want a re-match of their earlier gunfight.

  She was heading for the door to call Radcliff again when a tall man stepped inside. He was carrying two coffees and what looked like a bag of donuts.

  Margot had never seen him before, but he recognized her. He dropped the donuts and the coffee and was yelling, “She’s here,” as he reached behind his back. Margot retrieved the gun from her purse before he drew the pistol behind his back. She had his chest in her sights before he could bring his gun around.

  “Don’t do it,” she told him.

  He didn’t listen, bringing the gun around and putting it in a two-hand grip. She shot him twice in the chest a second before he pulled the trigger. Taking two slugs made him fire his gun into the ceiling. Margot shot him one more time to be sure.

  While he was falling, she turned as the door to unit four swung open. Margot fired two shots that way but did all her damage to the door jamb. She was turning to run but tripped over the dying man in the hall.

  The woman Margot had come to know as Viuda Negra emerged from the room. She had Cassie’s fake friend in front of her like a shield. The fake friend wasn’t happy about it, but the woman with the dark hair was too strong for her. She didn’t see Margot on the floor right away. Margot would have taken a shot, but she wasn’t willing to put a bullet through the hostage.

  The door to unit two opened and an older woman in workout gear looked into the hall.

  “What the hell is going on?” she demanded.

  Margot got to her feet and lunged for the open door without saying a word. The woman tried to close it, but Margot was too fast. She lowered her shoulder and went through, knocking down the woman.

  Margot kicked the door shut, sat up, and locked it. She was instantly glad she’d sat up instead of standing as two shots came through the wooden door.

  “Stay down!” Margot instructed the woman as Viuda Negra shot out the lock and kicked in the door.

  She still was using Cassie’s fake friend as a human shield, so Margot didn’t have a shot.

  “Drop it!” she heard someone shout from the hallway. Margot thought it sounded a lot like Ames.

  Viuda Negra spun and fired toward the voice before she stepped inside the condo. When she spun around, her grip around Cassie’s fake friend’s neck loosened enough that the young woman was able to pull herself free. Margot pulled her out of the way and raised her gun.

  Viuda Negra wheeled around and brought her pistol to bear on Margot. Like with the man in the hall, Margot was just quick enough to put two bullets in her before she could open fire.

  Viuda Negra stumbled out into the hall. Despite taking a bullet to the shoulder and her chest, and already suffering a wound to her hip from yesterday, she was lifting her gun to fire again.

  Margot fired, as did whoever was in the hall. Viuda Negra was hit enough times to die three times over.

  “Is that you, Margot?” someone called from the hallway.