He never tried to call me back.
I dreaded Monday, and not because I had to go to work. The fact was I didn’t have to go to work at all. One of the phone messages I’d gotten Saturday morning came from my supervisor at the jail, Dr. Eric Fox. Word of the newspaper article in the DetroitMetropolitan Daily had reached him, and he had politely asked me to please take several personal days to attend to my “crisis,” which meant I’d embarrassed the department, and if I wanted to keep my job, I’d better get my life in order.
So I cried, prayed, called Jazz and hung up, paced the floor, and waited for the calls——regarding the article Kalaya wrote——to bombard my phones. At exactly nine-twenty I got the first one.
Archie Dandridge.
“Mrs. Brown?”
Mrs.“Yes?”
“This is Officer Archie Dandridge.”
“What can I do for you, Officer Dandridge?”
“We need to talk. I’ve got the information and the photographs. And I’m afraid they didn’t come from Maguire. Your sister and Souldier gave them to me. I think you’re on to something.”
I slowly released the tension I’d been holding. “I’m so relieved. Can I come down and talk about it with you?”
“Bell…”
Bell?
“Do you have any idea where your husband is?”
“I haven’t spoken to him since Friday night.”
“I don’t mean to pry, but I think I may be closing in on Kate Townsend’s real killer. I think you were right all along. I don’t believe it’s your husband, and I believe now that her killer is a man.”
“That’s very interesting.”
“Again, I’d like to talk to you, and as you’ve probably gathered, it’s urgent.”
“Just let me know what time to meet you, and I’ll be right there.”
He paused. “You know that’s a problem. It’s going to take a tremendous effort to change the opinion of the people around here about you. And I’m afraid I have some concerns about Detective Maguire.”
I knew it!
“I’d like to talk to you away from the station. Can you meet me at a restaurant or at my home?”
“Of course. Thank you for accommodating me.”
“It’s no problem. You may not want to mention to anyone that you’re meeting me. This is a sensitive matter. You’ve had some mishaps with the press. I wouldn’t want any problems as something new is developing.”
“Just tell me where to meet you, Officer Dandridge.”
“Call me Archie, Bell.”
I let him call me Bell. If he would get Jazz out of this mess, he’d be my new best friend.
He continued, “How ’bout my home? I’m dog-tired. My wife will be there.”
I thought it odd that he felt it necessary to say that. He hadn’t been in any way unseemly.
Before I left the apartment, I stopped by Amos’s cage. He looked at me, and honestly, it looked like he was smiling.
“Mama will be back real soon, Amos.”
He made the clicking sound.Click, click, click, click, click with his little tongue. The same sound he’d made with Rocky. It didn’t sound menacing at all! I opened the cage, boldly now, and Amos climbed onto my hand.Click, click, click, click, click, click.
I had a Sally Field moment. “Amos likes me,” I said. “He really likes me.”
He was going with Mama today.
Mr. and Mrs. Archie Dandridge lived in a palatial art-deco home in Indian Village. This was high living for the east side of Detroit——definitely not thebeast side. I recognized the house as being designed by none other than the renowned industrial designer and architect Albert Kahn. The home boasted at least twelve thousand square feet. I could have lived quite comfortably in the carriage house.
“Wow,” I said to Amos. “Talk about big-city style.”
Amos and I——Amos in a sugar-glider Snugli that looked like a fanny pack around my waist——went to the door. I rang the bell. Moments later, it swung open, and Archie Dandridge greeted us.
He grinned. Shook my hand. “Thanks for coming here,” he said. He wore a teal-green suit that looked like it would cost a month’s worth of salary from both of my jobs. Generally, I hated every variation of teal. Even though it seemed to work for him, it still looked like gangrene to me——just like J. Lo said inThe Wedding Planner ——a creepy visual that I let go of as quickly as possible. I hadn’t been thinking straight lately, as it were.
Archie took one look at Amos peeking out of his Snugli, and a look of horror spread across his handsome face.
“That’s just Amos,” I said. “I’m in the process of bonding with him.”
“Bonding?”
“It’s complicated. But he’s sleeping now. He sleeps most of the day and screeches and bites his cage like a demon spawn at night. All night. But that’s another story.”
Reluctantly——I believed mostly because of Amos——Archie led me to a sunroom, full of light and scrumptiously warm, with a view of the carriage house and a magnificent arbor. “You have a beautiful home, Archie,” I said.
“Thank you, Bell. It’s been in my wife’s family since the thirties. I’m afraid it’s a bit rich for my blood. I’m a lowly Internal Affairs cop.”
And speaking of “wife,” I glanced at the pictures hanging on the wall. Archie Dandridge was married to none other than Barbara Marlow. Where in the world had I been to miss that detail? She was old money, from one of Michigan’s most prestigious families. Rumors were flying that the monarchical, imposing woman would run for the state senate in the next election. She had to be in her fifties, certainly older than Archie. Not pretty, but she had an honest-looking face. I’d voted for her because of that face.
“You did okay for a lowly Internal Affairs cop,” I said.
Amos shifted in the Snugli. The movement startled Dandridge. “Is it okay?” he asked.
“He’s fine. I hope you don’t mind that I brought him.”
“Not at all. What is he?”
“He’s a sugar glider. Very cute, don’t you think?”
Archie shook his head. I didn’t take offense.
“Can I offer you anything?” he asked.
“I’d like to get right to what we need to discuss.” The loveliness of the trees just beyond the glass enclosing us captivated me. “The view is breathtaking.”
“Thank you. I wanted you to know that I’m pleased with what you’ve come up with. Let me get a bottle of wine. I think we should celebrate.”
A bottle ofwine ? What in the world…
“I’ll be right back,” he said. “We’ve got a wine cellar, and I have a Bordeaux to die for.”
To die for?Strange choice of words. Or maybe I was getting too skittish.
But as stressed as I was, I could use a glass of wine. And a bit of fresh air——especially with such a nice view of the city. “Do you mind if I step onto the porch? Your yard seems so nice, I’d like to enjoy it.”
“Go right ahead, baby.”
Baby?Every part of me recoiled. The word put me on alert.No, I told myself.It was an accident. Unintentional. Archie has never been anything but professional.
Archie stepped out of the room to get the wine, and I glanced at the wall of pictures once again. He also had his high school diploma hanging there, which I found kinda sweet. Benjamin Archibald Dandridge. That was funny. I thought Benjamin was a much nicer name than Archibald. I thought it was curious that he’d choose to be called Archie instead of Benny.
The outdoors beckoned me to take a closer look. I opened the sunroom door and stepped into the backyard. A sense of foreboding rushed in with the change of temperature.
I tried to push the nagging dread out of my mind:You’re imagining things, Bell. I took a deep breath of the brisk, refreshing December morning. Tomorrow would be Christmas Eve, my favorite day of the year.
Will my husband be home for Christmas?
Thoughts of Jazz saddened me. I loosened the Snugli to allow Amos a
bit more air.
I took a step to walk out farther onto the porch, but my heel caught and stuck in the lattice-pattern doormat. I bent down to free my heel, and as I did, Amos protested my move with a yelp. My hand flew to his carrier to protect him. In that moment my gaze went to the ground. I caught a glimpse of the tiniest sliver of pottery on the mat. I leaned closer for inspection. I dabbed at it with my finger to pick it up. At the edge of the shard, I detected a glimmer of silver——otherworldly beautiful and as familiar as a steaming mug of tea in my living room.
Realization shot through me.
Addie’s pottery. The Starry Night mug.
My heart dropped to my shoes. Locard’s law. At every crime scene, the perpetrator leaves something or takes something. He’d transferred evidence, probably from the bottom of his shoe.
I stood ramrod straight. Snatched the cell phone out of my jacket pocket. He may not have wanted to talk to me, but I sure needed to hear from him. I punched Jazz’s number into the phone, praying that he’d answer.Oh, God, please, please, please.
He answered with a gruff “What do you want?”
“Please don’t hang up,” I whispered. “Did Archie Dandridge ever have a relationship with Kate?”
“What is this all about?”
“Please answer. I don’t have much time.”
His tone changed to that of concern. “Are you in trouble?”
“I’m always in trouble. Were they involved?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t mention him to me, but I know he was interested in her around the same we got together.”
“Jazz, this is important. When Kate cut herself, if she spelled words, what kind of words would they be?”
“What makes you think I know?”
“Could she have carved her lover’s initials on her stomach?”
I could almost hear him shrug. “I really don’t know, Bell. She wouldn’t talk to me about the cutting. I suppose anything is possible. She was a sick, broken girl.”
He called me Bell.I shook my head, trying to stay on track. At that moment my mind shot me a news flash. Benjamin Archibald Dandridge:BAD right on her belly.Yowza! “Bad” wasn’t negative self-talk. It was her baby’s daddy. “Archie killed her. It all makes sense now. The political ties. The baby. Even the leather gloves. I should have seen it from the start. It was all right there.”
Jazz paused. “Are you sure?”
“God led me by a star, just like He did the wise men. I have to go. I’m going to speed-dial my house so my answering machine will pick up. I’m going to get him to confess.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at his house.”
“And you think hekilled her?”
“I know he did.”
“Get out of there. Now!”
“I gotta go, Jazz. I’m sorry about everything, baby. I love you. I do. I just didn’t think I deserved you.” I hung up the phone, speed-dialed home, and shoved the phone back in my pocket.
I turned, and there was Archie, holding a bottle of wine. He opened the door to the sunroom for me to walk back in. I stepped inside.
Did he hear? How much?
My stomach sank.
The bottle he held hadn’t been opened. I thought about Sasha’s lessons: unopened bottles only. And always wear clean underwear in case you end up in the hospital or dead.
I prayed the hospital would be my destination.
I had to get Archie to confess. A piece of pottery wouldn’t be enough to put him away. I had to goad him into telling me what had happened. I prayed my phone was sensitive enough to pick up what we said from my coat pocket.
God help me.
I tried not to look like I was terrified.
Easy, girl. You can do this. Just get out of here alive.
He popped the cork on the Bordeaux and poured each of us a glass. He handed one to me, standing too close for propriety’s sake. “How’d he get you to marry him? He must be very smooth Jazz.” He chuckled at his play of words, as if everyone in Detroit hadn’t read that on Saturday.
“You’re very clever,” I said. “I thought you said your wife would be here.”
“You know how women in politics are.”
“No, tell me.”
“She’s gone a great deal. I find other means to entertain myself, as does she when she’s…busy.”
“Really?”
Now, there was a story to tell Kalaya. Detroit would love to hear about the Dandridges’ open marriage. Not to mention Barbara Marlow’s murdering husband.
“You’re a pretty woman, Bell.”
Why was it that every nutjob most likely to kill me was inclined to try out his rap on me? I smiled to humor him, rifling through my thoughts as if flipping through a psych journal, trying to land on the best approach that would get me the infoand save my life. The only thing that came to mind was to see just how far this rivalry between Archie and my hubby went. “You aren’t bad yourself. You’re not as fine as Jazz, but I guess you’d do in a pinch.”
He flinched. I’d taken him by surprise. He put down his glass of wine. “You’re quite forthcoming.”
“You have no idea.”
“I see why Jazz likes you. You’re spicy.”
“I’m glad you noticed. Of course, you notice everything Jazz has, don’t you?”
He laughed. “Look around. I’d say I have a lot more going for me than Jazz.”
“You married money. How hard is that?”
He stood closer to me. If I could just bide my time, I assumed that Jazz, despite our estrangement, would be my hero. People may not always be what we think they are, but I hoped to high heaven I’d called him right.Be my hero, baby.
“Jazz Brown is no threat to me.”
“Who said anything about him being a threat?” I tried not to sound sassy——almost contemplative. “He is, however, different than you. He’s more handsome, more intelligent, more charming.”
“That’s your opinion, Mrs. Brown.”
Nothing useful, but I had to keep trying. “It’s everybody’s opinion. Why do you think Kate left you for him?”
His jaw tightened. His amber eyes turned cold as January in Detroit. I’d touched a nerve, but he didn’t say anything. I had to push harder despite the fear creeping up my spine. “Must have really ticked you off when she left. Did you want the baby?”
“What are you talking about, Mrs. Brown?”
I was reaching. I’d either hit the mark or make a complete fool out of myself. I didn’t have much pride left. I had a nocturnal creature strapped to my waist. Looking crazy didn’t bother me. “I’m talking about the baby she aborted when she married Jazz. I mean, she couldn’t just haveyour baby when she was with someone else——someone better than you——now could she?”
“Shut up,” he said.
I needed a confession. For Kate. For Jazz. Neither deserved the lot Archie had cast upon them. Anger coursed through me as much as fear. “‘Shut up’? How rude are you? No wonder she dumped you. A player like Kate Townsend dumpedyou. ”
As quickly as he’d turned cold, he tried to unthaw, or at least appear to. “You’re quite amusing. You seem to forget that Kate dumped Jazzfor a woman. ”
Shoot. Score one for Archie. I shrugged. “Lucky Jazz. He found out it was impossible for Kate to be faithful to anyone, male or female. Her confusion messed with the mind of everyone she became intimate with.”
A look crossed Archie’s face before he could control it. Score one for Bell.
Now for the big guns. I prayed I wasn’t wrong, even if it meant he’d kill me. “So what was this last little close encounter about? Did you still want her, or did you just like the feeling that she wanted you…after Jazz?”
He didn’t say anything. I wanted to shake him. Force it out of him.If he did it. No, I may have questioned my instincts, but I had to be right. He fit the profile: married, upstanding, much to lose, not a gentleman. He even reeked of Lagerfeld. Now the biggest push of all, fueled by my out
rage at the lives he’d ruined: “News flash, Archie. Jazz wouldn’t have anything to do with her. You were her sloppy seconds——no, thirds, if you count Christine. You just weren’t good enough. As usual.”
“We loved each other.”
“Bah, humbug.” That was the best I could come up with. It was the day before Christmas Eve and quite possible that I wouldn’t live to see Santa Claus come to town. “She didn’t love you. Kate didn’t love anyone, including herself. Or maybe she was the only one she loved. It’s hard to say. In that way, you were a perfect match. She was just someone to, as you said, entertain you while you waited for your trust-fund-baby political wife to come back home and take care of the bills.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Why did you kill her? You didn’t want trust-fund baby to find out about your little offspring? Or was it to get back at everyone who has hurt you? You could destroy Kate. She humiliated you——first by choosing your archrival and then a woman for her bed. You could also hurt Christine, who loved her, and Jazz, who stole your rightful place on the force.”
“You have quite an imagination.”
His voice said one thing, his expression another.
Another point for Bell.
“She called you that night, wanting you to help her devise a plan to get Jazz in trouble, didn’t she? Was it then that you decided to kill her? Or once you got to the loft and she wouldn’t give you what you really came for?”
He looked at me like I was crazy. Or like I was on to something. I couldn’t tell which.
“They’ll pull phone records. They’ll find out who you are.”
“She had a cheap prepaid cell phone. Untraceable. I’m the one who purchased it for her. She called my own prepaid cell phone. There’ll be no phone records. I calledyou on that phone, too. They’ll never know it was me.”
Bingo! My heart rattled rapid-fire as a machine gun. The good news? He had confessed. The bad news? He was probably going to kill me. I made my face a cold mask of calm that belied the terror rising in my throat.Please send help, Lord.
Keep talking, Bell.
“You first thought you could just take her in Jazz’s loft, but then she resisted. Told you she loved Chris. She was going to keep the baby, and the women would raise it as theirs. But she’d tell everyone the truth——who the baby’s daddy was. And then where would you be? You killed her. You killed a pregnant woman.”
Death, Deceit & Some Smooth Jazz Page 29
