Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Box Set

by Jamie Lee Scott

  Cortnie laughed so hard she snorted. “Apparently so. But in all fairness, he thinks we’re installing it tonight. A little surprise never hurt anyone.”

  Nick leaned in. “What’s so funny?”

  I pointed to the video of Mr. Clinton entering the executive restroom, then of his assistant walking in right afterward.

  Cortnie said, “Granted, it is a unisex bathroom.”

  “Or in this case a ‘sex’ bathroom.”

  The time on the video read 5:59a.m., so apparently most of the rest of the staff had yet to arrive.

  “How do you know they had sex?” Nick asked. “It’s illegal to video in a bathroom.”

  “Listen.”

  I turned up the audio just enough for Nick to hear. I didn’t want everyone thinking we had a “When Harry Met Sally” moment at our table.

  Nick grinned. “Oh.”

  “But here’s the best part.” Cortnie turned her laptop around for Nick to see. “This little surprise may hurt Mr. Clinton’s trusted assistant.”

  Cortnie pushed a button, saying, “Which is exactly why I didn’t let on that we’d be setting up before the weekend.”

  Cortnie rewound the video to about twenty minutes earlier. Clinton’s assistant was seen entering the warehouse with a tall, thin man in a hoodie. The hoodie was pulled up over the man’s head. They knew exactly where they were going.

  “So what’s the surprise here? I thought this client knew you were planting surveillance equipment?” Nick stared at the computer screen.

  “We told him it’d be best if we went in on a Friday night. That way the employees wouldn’t accidentally be working late, or come in early on the weekend and catch us. Not that they’d have caught us anyway.” Cortnie sounded smug.

  “But what about the security guy? Don’t you think he’ll tell someone that we were there?”

  “He sure as hell won’t be telling anyone he was caught with his pants down.” Cortnie adjusted the screen’s color. “And it’s early enough today that Mr. Clinton doesn’t even know we were there yet.”

  “And he’s going to have a coronary when he finds out that while he’screwing his assistant, she’s screwing him in a different way.” I didn’t laugh. It sucked to trust someone only to find out you’re the patsy.

  “Yeah, didn’t he say we could trust her?”

  I took a long drink of my martini. “Yes, he did, poor guy. What’s he going to do now?”

  Nick leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head, interlocking his fingers. “This is why married men should never cheat on their wives. If a woman has so little scruples that she’d have sex with a married man, then what else is she willing to do?”

  He had a point.

  “But what if she doesn’t know he’s married?” Cortnie argued.

  “Whatever. She’d have to be an idiot not to see the signs.” Nick was still kicked back.

  It was obvious this was a subject he was passionate about because of his tone, but his body language told another story. He was so relaxed.

  Come to think of it, I was more relaxed than usual, too. Then it hit me. The sex! So that’s what good sex will do for someone. It’d been so long, I forgot how much better my body felt after that release.

  “Speaking of idiots: Any news about the dead lady?” Cortnie was quick to change the subject.

  59

  Nick looked pointedly at me. “I didn’t know the dead woman was supposed to be a topic of conversation.”

  I shrugged.

  “Believe me, when you work surveillance with someone, you have to have something interesting to talk about. Mimi said you hadn’t decided whether it was natural causes, or murder.”

  “Still working the murder angle,” Nick said. “We just don’t have any evidence to back it up.”

  “Plenty of suspects, though.” I leaned in. “I overheard Willard and Becky having a tryst in her hotel room. So there’s Becky, the nephew, a couple of manufacturers she used to work for, and of course, the husband.”

  Nick stopped eating. “Whoa, wait a minute. Becky and Willard?”

  I told them about following Willard to the motel, and what I’d heard.

  “And you didn’t think to tell me about this earlier?” Nick sat up quickly.

  “Well, I did tell you about them packing up to go home, but then we got sidetracked and, well…”

  Nick’s face flushed. At least I think it did. With the lighting, it was hard to be certain.

  “Motive!” Cortnie called out.

  That changed the mood substantially. No more thoughts of our afternoon delight.

  “But the nephew has a motive, too,” I said, “and several of the vendors here would love to see her dead.”

  “What motive would the nephew have?” Nick asked. “Is he in the will or something?”

  Lord, how I loved being the one with all the inside information. I relayed the information I’d gleaned from my “shopping” trip around the convention center.

  “Wow, she really is a piece of work,” Cortnie said. “You said she seemed drunk when you met her in the afternoon? That doesn’t seem to fit with her professional demeanor. If she’s that anal, she’d never be intoxicated while setting up her booth. Maybe poisoning?”

  Nick fiddled with his fork on his plate, not entirely thrilled with the conversation. “What are you thinking?”

  “Granted, if it’s what I think it might be, she’d have to have been poisoned at least two days earlier.” Cortnie was so casual about it, like she was talking about coordinating recipes, instead of discussing the mode of murder.

  “I’m listening…” Nick dropped the fork on the plate, leaned in, and put his elbows on the table.

  “If I was going to kill someone, I’d use antifreeze. I’d do it a few days before they were leaving for a trip. It takes about thirty-six hours for the toxins to take full effect in the body, so I’d be sure to get it in at intervals, to make sure enough was ingested.”

  “I need to look up the symptoms.” Nick pulled out a notepad and pen from his pocket.

  “Seriously? A pad and paper? Are you a dinosaur?” Cortnie laughed.

  We both looked at her, and in stereo said, “Okay, Charles.”

  “Charles? What?”

  Nick shook his head and scribbled his notes.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “Mimi said she slurred her words, and even stumbled. Definitely intoxication, but was it alcohol?”

  “How would they be able to tell if it was antifreeze? And how could you get someone to drink it?” I was curious. Not that I’d planned to use the idea or anything.

  “Most hospitals wouldn’t even be able to test for it, but there would be calcium oxalate crystals in her urine. Or there’s a good chance there is a fluorescein in the antifreeze.”

  “Fluorescein?” Nick asked without looking up from his scribbling.

  “It’s used to help detect radiator leaks. If the particular brand had fluorescein added, there would be a fluorescence that could be seen with a Wood’s lamp.”

  Nick looked up. “What is that?”

  “Most hospitals would have one, so they could easily test that way. It’s like a black light. It would show any fluorescence in the victim’s mouth. They’re also used to detect counterfeit money.”

  Nick pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll keep that in mind if I ever come across a counterfeit case.”

  I looked at Cortnie in disbelief. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

  We were both quiet as Nick spoke to Eva. “Look, it’s just a hunch, but do they have a Wood’s lamp in the M.E.’s office?” A pause. “If they do, you need to have them examine Marina Goldstein’s mouth, and the vomit and urine that you logged into evidence. Look for fluorescence.”

  He turned his back to us. “You need to check the urine for cal--, hold on.” He checked his note pad. “Calcium oxalate crystals.”

  He tapped his fingers on the table, then grabbed his fork and picked up a p
iece of ravioli. The possibility of murder wasn’t going to hurt his appetite.

  “I was having a conversation with some friends, and the possibility of antifreeze poisoning came up--” He turned back toward us, a pained look on his face. “Yes, I’m with Mimi, but it wasn’t her suggestion.”

  I wanted to stick my tongue out at his phone, as if Eva would somehow know.

  “Well, she seemed drunk the day we met her, and it was pointed out that it was out of character for her to be drinking while setting up her booth--”

  It was obvious Eva had just cut him off, by the look on his face.

  “Look, the husband wants the body cremated in a hurry, and shipped back to the Midwest. We need to do this before that happens.”

  Cortnie said, “Have them also check the osmolal gap.”

  Nick moved his phone away from his mouth. “What is that?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Just have the M.E. check it.”

  Nick had Cortnie spell it for him, and he told Eva.

  I asked Cortnie, “How would the murderer get her to drink it?”

  “It’s sweet. Well, that is if they don’t live in California. We have a mandatory bitter agent added to antifreeze in this state. It could be added, undetected, to any sweet food or drink.”

  I said, “Zack said she had a thing for melon martinis.”

  “That would work, but she’d have to drink them on a regular basis for it to work. I don’t think it could be added in one large dose and not be detected. I could be wrong.” She said this as if she wasn’t wrong very often.

  Nick said, “Call me back as soon as you know something.” He hung up looking tense.

  “You know the bad thing about this?” Cortnie offered.

  “About what?” I asked.

  “If it’s antifreeze,” she said, “that’s actually a bad thing.”

  Now Nick was curious. “What’s so bad about it?”

  “Proving who did it.” Cortnie closed her laptop and started straightening her files. “Everyone has access to antifreeze.”

  Cortnie had likely just given us the murder weapon, and had dismissed it as easily as if it was crumbs on a plate.

  Nick and I sat perfectly still, stunned, as Cortnie packed up her things and stood.

  “Well, I’ll give Mr. Clinton the weekend to enjoy his life, then I’ll break it to him about his mistress slash assistant. Did you want to be there when I break the news?”

  That was an abrupt change of subject, but I guess it’s the reason we were there to begin with. Marina’s death was really just a side note for all of us.

  “I wouldn’t miss it. Cheating asshole will get what he deserves. If he’d have just kept his pecker in his pants, he could put this woman away and be done with it. What’s he going to do now?”

  She smiled and walked away.

  My head was swimming with the revelations about our client and his dilemma, and wondering just who had killed Marina Goldstein, when Nick broke my trance.

  “Let’s go back to the room.”

  60

  I was hoping go back to the room meant we were going to hop back in bed and start over where we left off. Ha!

  Nick went straight to the bathroom and started packing up his toiletries. He’d left his razor, shaving cream, toothbrush, toothpaste, Q-tips and aftershave scattered on the counter. I stood in the doorway and watched him line everything up neatly in his shaving kit.

  “Regrets?” Not that I wanted the answer.

  He looked up. “Coming to San Francisco?”

  I wanted to smack him. “Yeah.”

  “Not a one.” He zipped up the kit and walked past me to the bedroom. “It was good to see old friends.”

  “Really? No pangs of regret for leaving?” I’d decided to change the subject so he didn’t think I was dwelling on our earlier encounter.

  He sat on the edge of the bed. “My problems started long before I became a cop. The city wasn’t the problem. I was.”

  I wanted to go sit next to him and try to get him to talk more about himself. Instead, I leaned against the doorway into the bathroom. “Okay.”

  He fiddled with his fingernails, not looking at me. “The drugs and drinking started in college. Some nights I’d get so wasted I’d black out and not know whose house I was in when I awoke the next day. And I’d have to face a girl, whose name I didn’t know, pretend I’d had a great time, and get a ride home.”

  Ouch. Poor girls.

  “The last thing I wanted was for the girls to know where I lived. I was in it for the fun. I was in it for the sex. No way in hell did I want static cling.”

  “Static cling?”

  “Yeah, that chick you screwed, and now you can’t get rid of her, stuck to you like static cling. Back in the day, it was bad enough. Imagine today, with the internet, social networks, text messaging. I’m glad I’m not in college nowadays.”

  Such a kind and compassionate guy. “Yeah, thank God.” And I’d just had sex with this guy.

  He looked up at me. “Aren’t you glad we split the sheets before I became that guy?”

  I was astonished. “Nick, that’s exactly the guy you were when we met. You were a womanizing jerk.”

  “So then why had we ever hooked up?” Now he was leaning back on the bed, propped up on his elbows.

  I thought hard. “I’m just going to say this: because you were hot! You were the cutest guy in school, and you asked me out.”

  Nick dropped flat on the bed and roared with laughter.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He composed himself enough to answer. “You were that flattered that I asked you out? I thought I was an asshole. Who cared how good looking I was if I was such a jerk?”

  I didn’t even hesitate. “Yes, you were an asshole, but I didn’t know that until after the night we went to the beach. I actually thought you liked me.”

  Nick sobered. “I did.”

  “You had a funny way of showing it.”

  “I was young and stupid, and didn’t know how to be just friends with a girl. I’m sorry if I treated you badly.”

  I wanted to say all was forgiven. Hell, I’d just had sex with the man, and now I was contemplating our past? Shouldn’t I have done that before I jumped in the sack with him? Oh well, what’s done is done.

  “You may be sorry now, but you weren’t back then. You were just happy that I’d listen to you drone on about your problems, and then let you fuck me when you were done.” I was letting past hurts bubble up a little.

  “Ouch,” Nick said. “I don’t think I ever used the word ‘fuck’ to describe what we did. When I look back, I realize that if I still had you to talk to, I was less likely to end up on the wrong side of a drinking binge.”

  “Well, goodie for you. And what did I get out of it?” I thought for a second. “Never mind, it’s the past, and what I got out of it was more than words can describe.” My insides were less tense now.

  “For years, I thought about you. I wondered what path you’d chosen, and if we’d ever cross paths again. Then one day, I just stopped thinking about you.”

  That stung a little, but I had to admit, I’d stopped thinking about him, too.

  “Then when I moved back to Salinas, I never in a million years thought you’d still be here. And to run into you so soon after coming back, it was crazy, like fate.”

  The only fateful thing was that he’d come back into my life after Dominic died. Our paths never would have crossed if Dominic was still alive. And if they did, I’d have never been inclined to have sex with Nick again. I loved my husband more than life itself. Nick would never have even made my heart skip a beat, if the circumstances were different.

  “Did you ever get married?” I asked.

  “Almost, once. I loved her, but not enough to be monogamous.” He sat back up, the joy on his face faded. “She didn’t deserve me.”

  No one deserved to be treated the way Nick treated women.

  “And you’ve changed?” I hoped he had
, but I wasn’t sure.

  “Changed? I don’t know about that, but I’ve matured. I regret that I didn’t have more respect for women. And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life sleeping with different women.”

  “I’m surprised you had so little respect, being raised by a single mom.” I remembered what he’d told me about his mom taking him away so his father could never again abuse them.

  “My mom was strong in some ways, weaker in others. I’m not--”

  Before Nick could finish, his phone rang. He looked at the number, then at me, before he answered. His face went ashen.

  Before I knew it, he was standing, pacing the length of the room. I wished whoever was on the other end spoke loud enough that I could at least hear a voice. Suddenly he stopped, looked at his phone, and put it back up to his ear.

  “Are you serious?” His tone was stern.

  I wanted to move in closer, but before I could approach him, there was a knock on the door.

  “Hey,” Charles said. “I thought I’d find you two here.”

  I put my finger to my lips and pointed toward Nick.

  Charles lowered his voice, “What’s going on?”

  I shrugged.

  Not one to be left out, Charles barged into the room and started pacing alongside Nick.

  I thought Nick was going to blow a gasket. He stopped dead in his tracks and glared at Charles.

  Oblivious, Charles said, “Who are you talking to?”

  Nick ignored him and continued to listen to the person on the other end of the phone.

  Whatever it was, it was important, or urgent, because Nick barely spoke and his face showed total concentration.

  As he walked away from Charles, he said, “So what now?”

  I’m pretty sure all three of us were holding our breath.

  “Right.”

  Right what? Oh, God, I wanted to know who it was and what was going on. It was excruciating.

  Charles backed off, and came back to stand by me. “Looks serious. Is it about Marina?”

  I shrugged.

  “What, tongue sore from French kissing, and you can’t talk?”

  I gave a sardonic grin.