Don't Breathe a Word

by Christie Craig

  Her frown deepened. “No. I just…I thought we could be friends or something.”

  He inhaled. “I’m honored, but you’re a witness on a case.”

  “Did you miss the ‘friends’ part?”

  He put the straw in his drink. “I didn’t miss the ‘or something’ part.”

  She grinned.

  A young man brought out her food. Juan watched his so-called witness unwrap her burger. She popped a fry into her mouth. Then she picked up another one and pointed it at him. “Why do I get the feeling you’re a decent one?”

  “A decent what?” he asked.

  “Guy. Cop. Person.”

  “I try. But seriously, I don’t have time to chat.” He started to stand.

  She motioned for him to sit back down. “But seriously,” she mimicked him, “I have something on Cindy.”

  Frustrated, he fell back into the booth. “Then talk.”

  “I went in to pick up my paycheck this morning. There was a guy there chatting with Mr. Grimes, aka the Grinch, my boss.” She ate a fry. “And he was asking questions about Cindy. He wanted to know where she was. Said something like…‘She hasn’t been at her apartment.’ It sounded like Grinch had given him her address earlier.”

  Juan sat up straighter. “Do you know who he was?”

  “I didn’t, but after he left I heard Grinch talking to Bo, one of the bouncers. Grinch was nervous, told Bo that the guy worked for some drug dealer from Los Angeles. He said he recognized him from years ago when something went down.” She smiled as if pleased with herself. “I thought that was something you should know.”

  Juan took in the info and turned it over in his mind. Was this who broke into Bates’s apartment? Could this relate back to the Liu killing?

  “What did this guy look like?”

  “Big guy. At least six three. Dark hair and light eyes. Had a tattoo, a spiderweb, on the right side of his neck, looked like a prison tattoo. And he walks like a linebacker, ready to plow into someone.”

  “That’s a good description.” Normally people couldn’t even remember what hair color a perp had.

  “I got something better.” She held out her hand. “His license plate. He was driving a cream-colored Corolla.”

  Juan pulled out his phone and took a photograph of her palm, then he looked up. “You’re right. You deserved more than a burger. We’re probably going to need you to give our artist a description of the guy. But I’ll call you.” He reached for his wallet and pulled out a couple of twenties.

  “No.” She held up her hand. “Keep your money.” She picked up another fry. “I might need something from you sometime.”

  Juan placed the money on the table. “Need what?”

  “I don’t mean anything illegal.”

  “Then what do you mean?” He leaned back in the booth.

  She bypassed his question. “You talking to Grinch about Cindy has gotten rumors flying.”

  “What kind of rumors?”

  “Someone said all of this is connected to an old murder case.”

  “Who said that?”

  “It was hearsay. I can’t even tell you who said it.” She paused. “Is it true?”

  “I can’t say. I should be going.”

  “Wait,” she said. “Another reason I came was I wanted to be sure you didn’t get the wrong idea about Cindy.”

  “What wrong idea?”

  “I think I sounded judgmental when I told you about her selling drugs.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “It’s just…she’s one of the nicer ones. Yeah, she’s been acting strange lately. But I don’t think she uses. She told me she got clean a while back. I believed her.”

  “Okay.” He pushed the money across the table. “Take it. I have to get back to work.”

  She handed him the milkshake she hadn’t touched yet. “Tell your hot partner it’s from me. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention me to Grinch if you speak to him again.”

  Juan took the milkshake and returned to the office.

  “That was quick,” Connor said.

  Juan set the shake on the guy’s desk.

  “I didn’t think you’d get it.”

  “I didn’t. She did.”

  “Did she really have something?” Connor asked.

  “Yeah.” He told them everything.

  “You think this guy is tied to Noel and Liu’s cases?” Mark asked.

  “I think it’s worth finding out,” Juan said. “Can one of you run this license plate and check to see if a big linebacker with a spiderweb tattoo was questioned in the Liu or Noel cases? I’m going to have a talk with Star’s boss again.” Juan pulled out his phone, snagged a pen and paper, and scribbled down the license number.

  “You want to do the Internet check and I’ll go talk to the guy?” Connor offered.

  “No, I’ll do it,” Juan said.

  “Okay.” Connor shot Mark a look that seemed to mean something.

  “What?” Juan asked.

  “Nothing,” Connor said. “Just…normally you’d prefer to stay put.”

  “Yeah, well, things change.” Juan pushed away from his desk.

  “Yeah.” Connor leaned back in his chair. “We’re noticing.”

  Juan walked out and the truth of his statement came with a punch in the gut. He was changing. Acceptance brings change. Or sometimes change brings acceptance. Murdock’s words set off a tiny alarm in his gut.

  Chapter Fifteen

  That was good, guys. You did great,” Vicki said to her Pilates class of fourteen women. She forced a smile on her lips. But in truth, she felt winded, cold, hot. Oh, hell, she felt sick. And it wasn’t from just the news of Marisol.

  She couldn’t miss work. Couldn’t afford to miss work. Yet the slow drum of a headache played right behind her eyes, and though she’d skipped lunch, she felt queasy.

  Thankfully, this was her last class. She glanced at the clock on the wall. She had thirty minutes to get to the school to pick up Bell. Thankfully, she’d used her lunchtime to grab a new phone and some Tylenol. She was pretty sure she had Pepto-Bismol at home.

  “See you next time.” As everyone started leaving, she used a towel to mop the sweat off her brow. When she looked up, one of the class attendees, a dark-haired woman, walked toward her.

  “I love how you lead a class.” She offered Vicki her hand.

  “Thank you.” Vicki pushed herself into PR mode. “I teach it on Wednesday and Friday, too.”

  “I know,” the woman said. “I’m Christina Acosta. I manage Finally Fit on the south side of town and also help out around here. I thought I could use a workout. And I’m impressed. If Lucy isn’t careful, I’m going to try to steal you to work at my location.”

  In spite of the woman’s compliment, Vicki’s warning bells rocked, rattled, and rang. Had Juan told his sister-in-law about her? How Vicki had mistaken him for a burglar, beaten him up, been willing to kiss him like a hormonal teen, then sent him packing? Crap. “Yes, you’re Juan’s sister-in-law.”

  Christina’s eyes widened. “You know Juan?”

  Okay, this was really awkward now. “We’re neighbors. He mentioned you worked at the other gym.”

  “Oh, okay. He didn’t mention you. I mean, I’m sure he would have if the subject would’ve come up. I’ve barely seen him lately.”

  The awkwardness reached a new level. So not good when you were dealing with someone who had the power to put you on the unemployment line.

  The thought of losing this job and having to go back to waitressing had Vicki putting on a good front. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Yes.” Christina looked as if she was still reeling from the fact that Vicki knew Juan. “So…neighbors?”

  “Yes.”

  Christina smiled. “He’s a great guy.”

  Vicki nodded again.

  Right then the receptionist stuck her head in the door. “You have a phone call, Nikki.”

  Vicki clutc
hed the towel. “Did they say who it was?”

  “No. Just that it was urgent.”

  * * *

  “Always happy to have a police officer stop in, but weren’t you just here asking the same questions?” Mr. Grimes, or as Star called him, Grinch, asked.

  “Yeah.” Juan’s tone should have given the guy the first warning that this wasn’t a friendly visit, but Grimes continued to look too chipper. “I stumbled across something else.”

  “What?” the man asked, leaning against the bar.

  Juan wasn’t about to rat out Star by throwing her name into the mix. “Cindy’s place was broken into. And we arrested someone who claimed they bought drugs from her and the sale supposedly went down here. You know how bad that looks for a place like yours. Cops could get all up in your business.”

  “I told you I fired her. Whatever she was doing around here is on her, not me.”

  “I know, but there was a car with out-of-state plates hanging around the night her apartment was tossed.” That, of course, was a lie, but this bozo didn’t know that. “Seems like somebody’s looking for her, and you’d be the first person they’d go to.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not in the business of passing out info on my ex-employees.”

  “You gave it to me. And I’m not taking it personal, but I don’t even think you like me.” Juan looked around. “I’ll bet cops swarming this place pretty much shuts it down for a while, doesn’t it?”

  The Grinch’s expression matched his nickname. “Fine, a guy came looking for Cindy the other night. He wanted her address.”

  “And you gave it to him.” Juan frowned.

  “He wasn’t the type to take no for an answer, if you know what I mean.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t exactly ask to see his ID.”

  Juan just stared at him.

  “I’m serious. I don’t know.”

  “Have you seen him in here before?”

  When he hesitated, Juan jumped in. “You can make this easy for yourself. Or—”

  “Okay. Yes, I’ve seen him in here before.”

  “When?”

  “It’s been a while.”

  Juan rubbed his hand over his scar. “Months? Years?”

  When the guy flinched, hope flared in Juan’s gut. Damn it if he might not just find out what happened to Abby Noel but solve the Liu case as well.

  He’d missed this. Missed actually doing the legwork in lieu of staying in the slow lane and doing Internet searches.

  “How long?” Juan repeated.

  “Four or five years, I’d guess.”

  “Was he here the same time Abby Noel went missing?”

  “Maybe. But I really don’t know much. I’d just started here. She went missing the same week. I barely knew the chick.”

  “Yeah, but her boyfriend, who I heard hung out here as well, got murdered. And when someone gets murdered, people have a tendency to remember things.”

  The man ran a hand over the bar as if debating.

  “So if the cops showed up here at around eleven, how much coke would we find on your employees?”

  Frowning, Grinch pushed away from the bar. “Fine. He was here about the same time the dancer went missing. And I remember him mentioning he was from L.A. But I don’t know if he had anything to do with the murder or the chick disappearing.”

  “Luckily, I consider that my job. But I’ll need you to come down to the station and see if you can give us a good description.”

  “Not in a million years. Absolutely not. I won’t get involved.”

  * * *

  Vicki couldn’t drive fast enough to the school. According to the nurse who’d called her at the gym, Bell was running a fever and throwing up. Vicki kept telling herself that kids got sick, that this wasn’t anything to panic about, but not once since she’d had Bell had she run a fever. And what if it was something really bad? What if she had to go to the hospital?

  They didn’t have insurance. Other than a fake vaccination record and birth certificate, she had zero paperwork on her niece. They’d want the name of a pediatrician in Colorado. She could find one, but what if they requested records? What if they saw Bell’s scars and started asking questions?

  It wasn’t until Vicki parked at the school and was hit by another wave of nausea that she remembered her own illness. They probably had the same thing. Which meant it was just a virus. Which meant she didn’t have to panic. Knowing that didn’t help. The thought of Bell sick had Vicki’s stomach knotting and feeling worse.

  She rushed into the school and asked where the nurse’s office was. Pointed in the right direction, she took off.

  Pushing inside the room, Vicki spotted a nurse. “Hello, I’m Nikki Hanson, Bell Hanson’s mom.”

  “Yes.” The middle-aged woman with bright red hair introduced herself. “Poor girl. She’s resting now, but she’s thrown up several times.”

  The nurse led Vicki to the back, where Bell lay on a cot with a bucket in her hands.

  When Bell saw Vicki, the child started to cry. “Oh, baby.” Vicki rushed in.

  Bell buried her head on Vicki’s shoulder. Vicki looked at the nurse. “Should I take her to a doctor?”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary. I’ve had three kids in here with this today. I think it’s a stomach virus.” The nurse gave Vicki some easy care instructions and they headed to the car.

  Bell curled up in her car seat. “My stomach hurts.”

  “I’m sorry, hon.” Vicki pulled out of the parking lot. “When we get home I’ll give you something that might make your tummy feel better.”

  “No medicine!” she cried, and then came the sound of Bell throwing up. Thankfully the nurse had given them a plastic bag, just in case.

  “Oh, honey,” Vicki said. “I’m driving as fast as I can.”

  * * *

  “How did you get him to come in?” Mark asked as he and Connor walked back into their office.

  Juan looked up. He’d left them down with Mr. Grinch and the sketch artist to come back and make a few phone calls. “Are you kidding? An upstanding, caring citizen like him? He jumped at the chance to help.”

  Connor and Mark both laughed and settled at their desks.

  Juan added, “Let’s just say I pointed out the pros and cons of not pissing me off.”

  “One day you’ll have to fill me in on those,” Connor said.

  “When you piss me off, I will,” Juan said. “Did you get anything on the license plate?”

  Connor looked back at him. “Yeah, but nothing that’s going to help. It was stolen yesterday on the north side of town from an apartment parking lot.”

  “North, huh? So if our perp is from Los Angeles like Mr. Grinch thinks, then maybe he flew in and needed a ride,” Juan mused aloud.

  “Good thought,” Mark said.

  Connor leaned back in his chair and put his feet up beside his Steelers coffee mug. “When we get the drawing, I’ll see if we can’t get our hands on some airport security film of flights coming in from California.”

  Juan stared down at the Noel file again. “I can’t help but think it’s because we opened the case that they’re coming after her now.”

  “Do you want me to go back to the Black Diamond tonight and ask around?” Connor readjusted his feet. “Maybe another employee might have a clue where she is.”

  “Star said Cindy was pretty much a loner, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.” Juan let go of a frustrated sigh. “If this person looking for Cindy is really tied to the Liu case, they’re going to want to shut her up permanently.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Mark said.

  Juan frowned. “We kind of do. Remember, Star said people were whispering it was about an old murder.”

  Mark nodded. “Did she tell you who said it?”

  “In our second conversation, she said another waitress heard one of the customers say it. And I just hung up with that waitress and she said it w
as a new customer—a guy with average build, average height, and light brown hair. It could be half the population. She can’t even remember what night she heard it. I told her to call me if she remembered anything.”

  “You think she might be lying?” Mark asked.

  “It didn’t sound like it,” Juan admitted, wishing it had. They could really use a break here.

  Mark pushed back from his desk a bit. “Give me her contact info and I’ll go question her in person.”

  “It wouldn’t be on us if someone was tipped off that we’re looking into the case,” Connor said, “but it would suck if something happened to her.”

  “Hey.” Mildred moved into the room and over to Juan’s desk. “Mrs. Noel dropped these off when you were out. Said they were birthday cards you wanted to see.”

  “Yeah.” He took the brown manila envelope, but his gut said they weren’t going to help. “Thanks.”

  Mildred left.

  Mark spoke up. “Birthday cards?”

  “Yeah, remember I told you that Bates sends cards to Abby Noel’s kid?”

  “That’s decent of her,” Connor said. “Most addicts aren’t nearly that conscientious.”

  “I know,” Juan said. “I assume it’s out of guilt, but Star said she was a nice person. That she even got clean.”

  “But she stole those drugs.” Mark exhaled.

  “And there’s that,” Juan said.

  Mark seemed to consider all the information. “We don’t have enough to get permission to assign someone to watch Cindy’s apartment, do we?”

  “No, but patrols are doing drive-bys.”

  “Then we might have to stake it out ourselves,” Mark said. “Annie’s going out to dinner with her friend. Why don’t I go park at Bates’s apartment and see if she stops by.”

  “Okay,” Juan said. “Call me when you’re ready to leave and I’ll take a shift after you.”

  Mark turned in his chair and it squeaked. “Okay, we’re doing this, but just to play the devil’s advocate, we all know we could be wasting our time. This might not have anything to do with the Liu murder. Plus, she could have already left town. And we could be wrong and she may not know shit about Noel’s disappearance.”

  “Yeah,” Juan answered. “Or we could be solving not just one case, but two. What are the chances that a woman’s boyfriend is murdered and she goes missing the next day and it’s not connected?”