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Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Box Set

Page 19

by Jamie Lee Scott


  “Did I tell you I got Eugene’s address?” Nick said.

  I climbed down into the Porsche. “Have you talked to him yet?”

  “No, I thought I’d head over there and see if I catch him at home.”

  “Why don’t you call first?”

  “So he knows I’m coming? If he’s a legit suspect, I’d rather catch him off guard.”

  “True that.”

  “From the address, he lives in a pretty nice neighborhood. I figure if I don’t catch him at home then I can head over to the Boardwalk and get some fried artichokes, so the trip won’t be a total loss.”

  I wanted to be a fly on the wall in that interview with Brad, I mean Eugene, but I didn’t dare ask. Nick and I were getting along, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that. But I wanted to solve this murder before he did. Call me competitive, or stupid, whatever, I wanted to catch the killer.

  “Well, I’d best get back to filing papers. It feels like I’m never going to get through it all.” I sank down in the seat at the thought of umpteen more hours of sifting and filing.

  “I thought Charles had hired temps to do it?”

  “He did, but the sooner we have everything back in order the better. I mean what if some paperwork is needed for a court case and we can’t find it?”

  “Don’t you have all of your cases backed up on discs?” Nick shifted the Porsche down smoothly as we got to the office and pulled up to the curb.

  “Yes, but I still like to have that paper in my hand.”

  “Doesn’t mean you have to spend your weekend filing when you can afford to pay people to do it for you.”

  I opened the car door and stepped out. Leaning in the window, I said, “Thanks for taking me along.”

  “You want to go to Santa Cruz later?”

  Did I just hear right? Nick asked me to come along. I’d get to be that fly on the wall after all. I shook my head, sure I didn’t hear correctly.

  “Huh?”

  “Santa Cruz, Boardwalk, want to go?” He said each word distinctly and slowly.

  “The Eugene interview?” Oh, I should have shut up while I was ahead.

  “No,” Nick drew out the word. “Beach, Boardwalk, maybe a late dinner?”

  I tried not to show my disappointment. If he took me along, I’d find a way to get in on that interview. “Dinner and a roller coaster, what more could a girl ask for?”

  “Right. I’ll put the car in the garage and we’ll take the Vic over there. I’ll pick you up at your house in an hour.” Nick put the car in gear and peeled away from the curb.

  I stood staring after him for at least a minute. I was asking myself where this was going, and should I stop it while I still had my heart fully intact?

  What the hell, we only live once. And we aren’t even sure how much time we have, so why worry about what might be when we can live what might be. Yes, Mimi Capurro, philosopher.

  22

  The Boxter was definitely better than the Crown Vic, but at least with the state plates on the car, Nick could speed and we got there in record time.

  Nick had changed into professional attire, with black slacks, a grey shirt and a monochrome tie. He looked good.

  I didn’t look so bad myself. I’d changed into black too, but I was in black pants and a black oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows. I chose black ballet flats which I could easily kick off if we went for a walk on the beach. I was thinking ahead.

  Nick wasn’t kidding about the neighborhood Eugene lived in. It wasn’t even a neighborhood, with only one house every quarter mile. The only sign of a home from the road was the mailbox. We turned into a driveway lined with redwood trees as old as God. The driveway was paved in asphalt and lined on both sides with equally spaced pansy tufts.

  When Nick parked in front of the split level home, I sat quietly, mesmerized by the views. The house was just high enough in the hills to overlook the forest of redwoods. I could see floor-to-ceiling windows along the side of the house where the walkway meandered to the front door. There was a BMW Z4 parked in front of the closed garage door.

  I thought back to Friday night. Weren’t they in a Volvo? I didn’t remember seeing a BMW in that parking lot. Maybe the Volvo was Henry’s, or maybe Eugene had more than one car. At least it looked like someone was home.

  Nick said, “Now be good. I don’t know how long I’ll be if he’s here.”

  “I’m good. I brought my iPod. I’ll just listen to music and relax.” I dug into my handbag and showed him, then leaned my head back.

  When Nick turned to get out of the car, I said, “Wait, look at me.”

  He did.

  “Ack, your tie is off. Turn toward me.” I reached out to him.

  “I can do it.” Nick snapped.

  “Stop, you’re wrecking it.” I grabbed the tie, loosened the knot, and straightened it. And I slipped the bug nicely in the knot.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “I didn’t want you to look too buttoned up. Slightly disheveled will give you an advantage, especially if he’s as anal as I think he is. He’ll give you less credit than you deserve.”

  When Nick walked toward the house, I pulled my recorder from my handbag, plugged the headset into it, and listened. I rested my head on the seat and closed my eyes, just in case he looked back, I didn’t want him to think I was too interested.

  Nick knocked on a door that could have been the front or back door. With some houses you can’t tell which is which. He waited, but not patiently. I could hear him sigh several times. Just when it seemed he was going to turn and leave, I heard the door open.

  I would have loved to get another look at Eugene. Who cared that he preferred men, he was still nice to gawk over. I listened to the exchange of introductions, and then Eugene let Nick into the house.

  “Nice kitchen,” Nick said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a kitchen this well equipped.”

  “Oh, thanks. Cooking is a hobby. I never really get to do enough of it.”

  I could hear them walking down a hallway.

  “What do you do for a living?” Nick was conversational.

  “Computer stuff.”

  “What kind of computer stuff?”

  “You name it. I work out of the house here, and travel to locations if necessary. But don’t call me if you want something done right away. I’m booked several months out most of the time.”

  “Sounds like a nice gig if you can get it.”

  “Please sit,” Eugene said. “Flexible. I’m able to travel quite a bit. So you are here to talk to me about Esme?”

  “Did you know her well?” Nick had the interviewer voice now.

  “Pretty well. I mean from the game, and from Henry. We were all working for the good of the game, you know. I guess the matter of whether the game succeeds or fails fell on our shoulders. No one else would’ve put the work into it that we did.”

  “What kind of work?”

  “We were preparing a PR campaign. We had put together a proposal for the city, so they wouldn’t shut the game down. It’s just like a city council to pass ordinances to keep us from being able to continue the Camarilla.”

  “A PR campaign?”

  “Yes, and a little bit of money didn’t hurt either.”

  “Speaking of money, that sword collection must have cost a fortune.” I could hear the awe in Nick’s voice.

  “Oh that, I’ve been collecting for years. Hopefully it will be worth quite a bit more when I’m ready to retire. Safer than the stock market, I suppose.”

  He collected swords? Weird. But then he played vampire games too.

  “Vampires are really a big part of your life, huh?”

  Eugene was silent for a moment. “Stop beating me off. You’re here because you want to know about Esme. So here it is.

  “Don’t even begin to think the girl is a saint who no one would have wanted dead. She’s stabbed enough people in the back to attract a few enemies. Am I one of them? No. Could
I be? Absolutely. She walked out on her roommate when she found out that Lauren and Henry would let her stay with them for free.”

  “But I thought her roommate was still living in the apartment. And all of Esme’s furniture was still in there when we stopped by. Susan didn’t say anything about being left with the rent to pay.”

  “She wouldn’t. She’s just happy to have a cheap place to live. But Esme would’ve moved all of the furniture out pretty soon if she’d had a place to keep it. She kept bugging Henry about letting her store it at the house, but Henry didn’t think it was a good idea. There you go. When Henry said no to the furniture storage, Esme went and asked Lauren.”

  “What did Lauren say?”

  “Kind of funny that. She said to ask Henry, since the house was his.”

  “Did Henry own the house before he married Lauren?”

  “No, but that house is Henry’s domain. He did all of the interior design, and he has a nice sword collection too. But his isn’t on display. He keeps it locked in a cabinet. His is much more valuable than mine.”

  “So how well do you know Henry?”

  I was waiting for the answer to this question.

  “Actually, I met Henry through Lauren, in a roundabout way. You see, I quite like the vampire scene and I’m a fan of Lauren’s books, so I started collecting signed first editions. Anyway, I was at a signing and Henry was there and we got to chatting. We had a lot in common, and then Henry joined the Camarilla.”

  “Yes, I saw the two of you in Santa Cruz on Friday night.” Nick inferred seeing something he shouldn’t.

  “Oh really, where?” Not a hint of defense in Eugene’s voice.

  “At the Camarilla. I went over to check out the game and ask some of the players about Esme. She seemed well liked within the game.”

  “Yes, now that she’s dead. She was the head vampire of her clan, and now three other women get to vie for the part.” Eugene coughed. “How did you know it was Henry and me?”

  “Well, I knew who Henry was from the night of the murder, and I recognized him in his Camarilla attire. And, well, I saw you leaving Henry’s hotel room one night this past week. I recognized you too. Great costume, by the way. A prince, huh?”

  Nick was egging Eugene on. It seemed as if he was trying to get under the man’s skin and goad him into talking.

  “Weird,” Eugene said thoughtfully.

  “What’s that?” Nick didn’t sound as if he really cared.

  “Weird that you didn’t talk to me Friday night. Why did you wait until now, coming to my house?” Eugene oozed suspicion. “Am I a suspect?”

  “To be honest, Eugene, yes, you are.”

  I could hear Eugene stand. “Oh my God, are you kidding me? What on earth would make me a suspect? This is crazy.” He was shouting.

  “Look, we saw you with Henry. And I’m not talking about the game.” Nick spat out the words.

  “You’re kidding, right? You think just because Henry and I are fucking that I killed Esme. Give me a break. It’s not exactly a secret.” Eugene had to be pacing, from the to and fro of his voice.

  “Cool,” Nick said. “If it’s not a secret, I’ll just have you come down to the station in Salinas with Henry and Lauren, and the four of us can have a talk.”

  Eugene spat, “Fine. Do that. Now unless you have some real evidence that I had anything to do with Esme’s death, get out of my house.”

  Nick’s voice went soft and smooth. “Eugene, why so defensive? I thought you were innocent.”

  Eugene lowered his voice this time. “Get out.”

  Nick grinned. “I’ll be seeing you very soon.”

  I pulled the headphones from the recorder and plugged them into my iPod just as I heard the door slam behind Nick. I turned slowly to look at him, and I grinned.

  Nick grinned back as he went round to the driver’s seat and got into the car. He slammed the door shut. “He’s hiding something, I just don’t know what.”

  All innocent and sweet, I said, “What makes you say that?”

  Nick looked me in the eye and said, “Well, you heard him.”

  My heart stopped. “Huh?” Oh, crap.

  Nick lifted his tie and peeled the microphone from the back side as if it were an insect. He reached toward the passenger floor and tossed it into my handbag.

  * * *

  I’d like to say that Nick took me to the boardwalk and we had a romantic evening, but the whole microphone incident put an end to any good time we would’ve had. And the sad thing is that I didn’t really learn anything. Nick didn’t speak to me once on the ride back to Salinas.

  I had wanted to drop the recorder off at Gotcha, so I could put it in the safe, but I didn’t want to drive from my house to the office and back. “Can we stop by my office before you take me home?”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t even look at me when he said it.

  He whipped the Crown Vic around the street corners, and rolled up to the curb at the Gotcha office.

  “I’ll be right back.” I got out of the car before Nick came to a complete stop.

  As I jogged up to the Victorian house, I saw lights on toward the back of the house. This didn’t seem right. I’d left when it was still daylight, and I didn’t remember turning on any lights at the back of the office. I skidded to a stop.

  I pulled my nine millimeter from my handbag and flipped off the safety. I slipped my handbag over my shoulder and made my way to the back of the house with my gun in front of me. When I got to the kitchen door, it was open just a crack. I heard noise inside.

  23

  Laughing?

  I peeked in the door and saw Gemma sitting on the kitchen counter. Charles was next to her, looking at her cell phone.

  “What are you doing here on a Sunday night?”

  “Even better question, what are you doing here?” Charles asked.

  I looked at Gemma, “I didn’t even know you were back.”

  “Just got in a few minutes ago. The car dropped me here.”

  To Charles I said, “And you?”

  “I stopped by to see how much re-filing needed to be done.”

  “You were going to help?” This surprised me.

  Charles smirked. “No, I just wanted to know how many temps to have Manpower send in the morning.”

  I should have known he wasn’t there to help. “So what’s going on?”

  They looked at Gemma’s phone. “Oh, we’re looking at photos of one of the signings. I was just going to show Charles this crazy guy in the vampire outfit. He’s different from the rest of the weirdo fans. This guy is serious. He was at two signings.”

  I went around to the opposite side of Gemma from Charles and took a peek. I looked up at Charles.

  “Holy shit.”

  Charles grabbed the phone from Gemma.

  “What?” Gemma pouted and stood on her tiptoes to get a look at what had Charles so interested.

  “Is it?” I came around the other side and stood next to Charles, looking at the image.

  “Yes, I would say it is.” Charles started to walk away with the phone.

  “It is what?” Gemma whined. She hated not being in the know.

  I had my phone out to call Nick when I looked up and saw him in the doorway.

  “What happened to I’ll be right back?” He glared at me, then at Gemma and Charles.

  I grabbed the phone from Charles. “Look at this.”

  I shoved the phone at him and waited for a response. The picture on Gemma’s phone was the Prince, aka Eugene Winkle.

  “This is awkward. He’s doing her husband, and he’s dressing up and attending her signings without Henry.” He handed the phone back.

  “You don’t get it.” I pushed the phone back at him. “He’s the guy Lauren was talking about. The one who attends all of her signings.”

  “Okay.” Nick still didn’t understand what I was so frantic about.

  “He wasn’t at the signing on Monday night.”

  A dawning g
limmered in Nick’s eyes. “Oh, this gets better and better. He’s her biggest fan, he’s screwing her husband, so he probably got an advanced reader’s copy from said husband.”

  “So he’d know about the slaying scene way before the book came out, and he’d have time to set up the murder. He probably stayed at the bar with Henry to get him drugged up, and then followed him home. With Henry tucked away, he lured Esme downstairs, if she wasn’t already down there, and he killed her.” I was giddy with the fact that I’d had the piece of evidence that solved this murder.

  “Didn’t he say Henry had a sword collection that he kept locked up?” Nick added.

  “Yes. If he is Henry’s lover, he probably had access to the collection.” Then it struck me. “Henry has no idea.”

  “Or does he?” Nick said. “I’m going to figure out a way to get them into the station first thing in the morning. I want to talk to each of them separately. And maybe get a warrant for Eugene’s house.”

  “Gemma, we need to keep your phone.” I said.

  “What?” I think Gemma was stunned at what she’d revealed, because she is usually much chattier.

  “Charles, can you forward her number to my other cell phone?” I handed it to him.

  Charles was silent too, as he punched the numbers. He handed the phone back to me. “Just don’t answer it, and it’ll forward to the other number. Wow, this is crazy.”

  “You still want a ride?” Nick asked me. “I’ve gotta head out. I’m going to the station before I head home.”

  “Yeah, hold on.” I pulled the recorder from my handbag and handed it to Charles. “Put this in the safe, please.”

  Charles looked at the recorder. “Okay.” I think he was a little dazed at the idea of discovering the murderer, too.

  Nick had driven the Crown Vic to the backside of Gotcha, so we went out the kitchen door. He walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. Before you think he was being polite, I remind you that the door only opens with a key. He left the door open and went around to his side.

 

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