Twisted Interest

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Twisted Interest Page 4

by Nora Kane


  She pulled Trevor down as the passenger opened fire. The shots went above their heads, shattering the big glass window that took up the entire front side of the store and showering the two of them with glass and shredded posters advertising beer.

  The car came to a stop and Margot could tell they were coming back to finish the job. She stayed down and plucked her own pistol out of her purse. As the car started backing up, Margot aimed and fired. The short barrel on her gun meant it wasn’t very accurate, so she picked big targets like the back windshield. The glass fell and the gunman disappeared into the car.

  Margot emptied her magazine into the car as it drove by. With her shooting, the gunmen didn’t raise his head. Margot reloaded using her only spare magazine as the driver sped into the night.

  “You make anybody mad, Trevor?” Margot asked as she stood up and brushed the glass off of her.

  “Me? I figured they were here for you.”

  Margot wished she could argue with him. The car was too much like something Mal would drive. As she brushed the glass from her hair, she couldn’t help but wonder if her former lover just tried to kill her.

  Chapter 5

  “Did you get the license plate?” Ames asked. He’d subbed in to do an overnight shift when a couple of detectives were out sick.

  Margot thought it was weird seeing him without Radcliff. If Radcliff was around, he’d play nice, but without him, Ames didn’t even attempt to hide his disdain for her.

  “I was kind of busy,” Margot told him.

  “Maybe you should have been doing that instead of shooting up the city.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I like to save my reading for after the gunfight is over. Are you going to arrest me?”

  Ames shrugged. “I’d like to, but honestly, I can’t think of a time since you and Mal left the department when I didn’t want to arrest you. Just like every other day, though, it looks like I’m going to have to wait. With the clerk telling everybody you saved his life, dragging you away in handcuffs would look bad. Plus, I’m homicide, it doesn’t become my problem until one of those bullets hits someone.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I heard you were here and thought I might come by and see if you got shot.”

  “Thanks for the concern.”

  “Maybe next time.”

  Margot didn’t have anything to say to that.

  “That’s the problem with you, Margot. There will be a next time and a next time after that. One of these times, a bullet is going to have your name on it.”

  “You think I want this?”

  “You say you don’t, but here we are again. Why were you talking to the clerk anyway? Looking to step out on my partner?”

  “Work. He was harassing my client.”

  “Any chance they were shooting at him?”

  “I don’t know him well enough to say no, but I doubt he has my history.”

  “You want to venture a guess who it was this time?”

  “I thought this wasn’t your kind of case.”

  Ames shrugged. “Professional curiosity.”

  “The name Dennis Thorn ring any bells with you?”

  “That who shot at you?”

  “No, not exactly anyway.”

  “Don’t be cryptic with me, Margot. If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

  Margot thought about it for a long second before she said, “It’s not your case, Ames, and I’m going to say this once, I don’t want to say it twice.”

  “You want me to get the detective in charge?”

  “Not yet, I need to talk to someone first,” Margot said as she checked the time.

  There was a chance Harry Lee would be up, but even bars were getting ready to close, so she figured she’d talk to him tomorrow. Margot sent a text anyway. If he was up and wanted to talk, she’d be good with it. It was going to take a while and more than one glass of whiskey to get to sleep after the adrenaline rush that accompanied having someone try to murder you.

  Chapter 6

  After the night she had, Margot would have loved to take the day off, sleep until noon and then spend the rest of the day drinking the bullets that went by her head off her mind, but she had work to do. Shaw would have probably let her, but Browers and Associates might not be as understanding, especially since it happened while she was working for someone other than them. She never promised exclusivity when working for them, but she had a feeling they expected it anyway.

  She’d told Thad she’d check on Phoebe, so she decided to make that the first business of the day. Talking to Phoebe, who once dated Radcliff, wasn’t always easy, but they seemed to have come to an understanding. Plus, with Margot getting her out of jail, Phoebe wasn’t nearly as nasty as she had been when they first met.

  Margot tried to call to let Phoebe know she was coming by, but it went straight to voicemail. She left a message and headed over.

  She was surprised Phoebe was still staying in the house where her husband and his lover were murdered. It was even more surprising to find her in the back yard where the crime took place. The hot tub where they’d died and were found floating in red water had been drained and covered up, but the tub itself was still there as a reminder.

  Phoebe was sunning herself in a skimpy bikini that wouldn’t leave many tan lines and drinking something clear with a lime in it when Margot let herself into the back yard.

  Margot didn’t know either victim. but seeing the hottub where they met such a violent end was disturbing to her. Phoebe, who was sitting in a chaise lounge facing the tub, didn’t seem bothered.

  Phoebe didn’t move as she said, “Margot, what a surprise.”

  “I called, you didn’t answer.”

  “So, you rushed over to check on me?”

  “Something like that.”

  Phoebe held up her glass. “Would you like a drink? I know you’re more a whiskey girl, but on a hot day, a bit of vodka on ice sure hits the spot.”

  “It’s ten in the morning.”

  “So? I mean, how can you drink all day if you don’t start in the morning?”

  “I’m working, Phoebe.”

  “You shouldn’t let that stop you. In fact, why don’t you join me? I have a drawer full of bathing suits and I bet you and I wear the same size.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” Margot said as she pulled up the other chaise lounge and sat on the edge so she was facing Phoebe.

  “Why not? You shouldn’t be shy about wearing a bikini. I bet you look good. Maybe better than me right now. I haven’t been too inspired to get to the gym.”

  “I’m working on keeping you out of jail, Phoebe.”

  “So no sunshine and vodka for you?”

  “No. I’m sure I’m not the first to ask you this, but do you have any idea how Lucas might have gotten the straight razor?”

  “Other than he stole it when he killed my husband?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No.”

  “Is there anyone else who could have taken it? Is it something your husband would have noticed missing?”

  Phoebe sipped some Vodka as she thought about it.

  “The razor was just for show. Tim liked the idea of a straight razor, but he didn’t shave with it regularly; in fact, the only time he tried, he cut himself. So, it could have been gone for a while without him knowing it, but I can’t think who would have been in our bathroom to steal it other than the maid and I don’t think she would do that. Even if she were a thief, there are a lot better things in the house to steal and I can’t picture her hanging out with Lucas.”

  “Can you tell me how to reach her?”

  “You’re not going to accuse her of stealing are you?”

  “No, but she might have noticed when the razor went missing.”

  “She’d have a better idea than me. I have her number somewhere.”

  Margot thought she might get up and go find the number, but the only thing she moved was her glass back to her lips.


  They both turned as the back gate opened again.

  Margot was surprised to see Detective Anderson walk through.

  “What are you doing here, Margot?” he asked. She was surprised he’d taken his eyes off Phoebe long enough to notice she was there.

  “I work for her defense team, why are you here?”

  “I just thought I’d drop by to say hello.”

  Margot looked over at Phoebe. “Do you want me to call Browers?”

  “Why? You think that cute lawyer, the one with the Porsche, would come by? If so, you definitely need to go change into one of my suits. That pants suit thing you’ve got going does not do your body justice.”

  “A detective just walked into your backyard. Trust me, he does not have your best interest at heart.”

  Phoebe lowered her sunglasses so Anderson could see her wink and then said, “I can’t speak for his heart, but I think some of him has my best interests in mind. At least certain interests.”

  Looking at Anderson, she was probably right, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a detective looking to solve a case.

  “Then I’ll call them for you,” Margot said as she fished her phone out of her purse.

  “I don’t think you need to do that, Margot,” Phoebe said, “Harlan is one of the nice ones.”

  “There are no nice detectives, even if you know their first names.”

  “Maybe you just have a bad attitude,” Anderson told her.

  “What do you really want, Anderson?”

  “I was in the neighborhood and during the course of my investigation, I noticed Ms. Masterson was having some difficulties,” Anderson said as pointed at the nearly empty glass of vodka in Phoebe’s hands. “I thought it might be prudent to check on her.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Don’t be so cynical, Margot,” Phoebe said right before she gulped down the last of her drink, “I told you he was one of the nice ones.”

  “Look, Margot,” Anderson said, “since you’re here watching over her, I’ll be on my way.”

  “You sure you don’t want to stay for a drink?” Phoebe asked as she stood up. If the alcohol had any effect on her, it didn’t show.

  “I think Detective Anderson wouldn’t want to be drinking on the job.”

  “She’s right. We’ll talk soon, Phoebe.”

  Phoebe smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Anderson left the way he came in and Phoebe headed inside.

  “Get your maid’s number while you’re in there,” Margot told her.

  “Okay, you sure you don’t want a drink?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Phoebe returned with a Merry Maids business card with the name ‘Mary’ written on the back with another phone number.

  “Be nice, like I said, I like her.”

  “No problem. Is he right?”

  “Who?”

  “Anderson.”

  “You mean Harlan?”

  “He and I aren’t on a first name basis, but yeah.”

  “I’m not in jail, yet. If you worried about me hanging myself or drowning in the pool, you don’t have to. I’ve drank like this for a while now.”

  “I can hang out if you don’t want to be alone.”

  “But you’re not going to drink with me?”

  “No.”

  “I’m fine, Margot. In fact, the idea that you’re out there looking for who really killed Tim makes me feel a lot better than you sitting here being a bummer while I tan.”

  “Okay, I might go call your maid then. I’ll come by later.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “If Anderson comes back, call me. He might seem nice, but you can’t trust him.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do say so. See you later, Phoebe.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Margot went out to her car and was getting ready to call the maid when she saw Harry Lee had returned her text from the wee hours of the morning.

  The text read: Layla’s West at noon.

  He didn’t seem to be asking.

  Margot checked the time on her phone. If she left now, she could beat him there and be ready if he had some surprise in mind.

  Chapter 7

  Margot wished she had time to set up some backup. Since she was sliding into legally dubious territory, she wasn’t sure how comfortable she was asking Shaw or Radcliff. They were both probably busy with their own work, anyway. She didn’t doubt either one of them would do it, busy or not, which was part of the problem. She thought too highly of both of them to risk dragging them down to her level.

  That was the nice thing about Mal. Working for Margot was as close as he got to going straight, but he always had her back, no questions asked. At least, until recently. It was that loyalty that had her going to talk to Harry Lee before she went to the police.

  Layla's West was never full, but there were a few more customers drinking their way through lunch than there were the afternoon they’d met before. Margot was still able to get a table that let her put her back against the wall. Even though she’d turned down Phoebe and tried to take her no drinking during work policy seriously, Margot ordered her usual Makers Mark on ice. She justified it by telling herself this could be her last drink. Her last anything really; Harry Lee had a reputation for making people who got in the way of his business disappear. The fact she was working for him didn’t really change that.

  Harry arrived a half an hour before he said he would get there.

  Unlike last time, he had Bobby with him. Harry sent his thug/bodyguard to the bar and went over to join her at the table.

  “Finish your drink. I had Bobby get you a fresh one,” Harry said as he sat down.

  “Thanks, but I’m only going to have one. I’m working.”

  “Bobby’s bringing it anyway. What you do with it is up to you.”

  Margot didn’t want to make him mad, so she said, “Thanks, I appreciate the effort.”

  “Good to see you’re not in custody.”

  “Being innocent helps.”

  Harry smiled. “I wouldn’t know much about that. What can I do for you, Margot?”

  “Mal used to work for you back in the day.”

  “That was the rumor.”

  “It wasn’t a rumor.”

  “He told you that?”

  “No, but that doesn’t matter. Mal would never lie to me, but he would choose not to say if I put the question to him.”

 

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