“How did she find out?”
“She went home for lunch one day, and caught them in her bed. Personally, I think Monica planned it that way. When Rose threw Danny out, Monica made sure Rose knew he was staying with her.”
“Okay, now I understand why everyone hated her, but I don’t believe that Rose killed her. She has a temper, but she’s not stupid. She would have killed Monica as soon as she caught her in bed with her husband. She wouldn’t have waited. She would have probably shot Danny too.”
“I agree, but that doesn’t mean she won’t still be a suspect. Besides, I think Rose is afraid that maybe Danny killed Monica. Rumor has it that Monica dumped Danny recently for someone else.”
“You have any idea who?”
“No. Like I said, she wasn’t talking to me, and by that time she had pretty much alienated everyone in the office.”
Having demolished everything on my plate, I sat back, placing my napkin over the empty plate. “Anything else?”
She smiled. “No, that’s pretty much it.” She seemed much more relaxed. Finishing her salad, she pushed the plate away and leaned in close. “Now that you’re up to date, let’s talk about Detective Hunky. Has he asked you out yet?”
I laughed. “Are you kidding, he hasn’t even looked at me.”
She shook her head, sitting back with a knowing look on her face. “Sweetie, you may not see him looking, but trust me, he’s looking. Even when he’s not looking, he’s aware of every move you make. If you don’t believe me, just watch Alan’s face when the three of you are together. He doesn’t like the detective’s interest in you one bit. By the way, in case you haven’t noticed, the handsome detective is rich, as well as good looking. I googled him, Nicholas Carmen Delgado of the San Francisco Delgados. His dad, Alfonso, made money buying and selling California real estate during the boom times. He took that money and invested in computer software. When he died each of the kids inherited several million.
“Wow. How did you find out his first name was Nicholas?”
“I asked. He knew my name; I thought it only fair I should know his. I wonder why he decided to become a cop in Vegas of all places.” Trust Charlene to research a cop.
“Several millions, that explains the suit and the gold cuff links. Married? Kids?”
“Married once. Wife died eight years ago. No kids.”
“Wow, single, rich and I even like the way he looks.”
She laughed. “Now, that’s an understatement. If I hadn’t poked you, you would have been drooling, very unattractive in a woman. There’s enough electricity between the two of you to light up Vegas.”
Charlene was usually good at reading people. I remained unconvinced. While I was certainly attracted to him, the only vibes I got in return seemed to be negative. So far, all he had done was growl at me. Unless perpetually pissed was his way of showing interest, I didn’t see it.
During lunch, I’d responded to several text messages from supervisors needing help, or answers to questions. With the office closed, and the only one available with answers, I needed to get back. It occurred to me that while we were shocked at the murder, no one including me had been mourning Monica. Obviously none of us really knew her. Other than a mean streak, she’d hidden her personality, even her real name from all of us.
After parking the car, I took the elevator back up to the office. Since the crime scene tape was gone, I decided to stop by security to see if I could reopen the office. I almost hoped the answer would be no. The blood on the carpet and the wall still painted a vivid picture in my mind.
Chapter Three
Alan sat behind his desk, his head propped up on one hand. Dark smudges of purple underscored his red eyes. He really needed to get some rest. Yawning, he told me, “The police just left. They released HR, but I’d rather you stayed out of your office until I can get the hazmat team in to clean it.”
I leaned one hip on his desk, looking down at him. “That’s okay.” I shivered with the memory of blood and matter dripping off my desk. “I’ll work out of Monica’s office. I need to review her files anyway to get up to speed on the cases she was working. Did the police take any of her files?”
He yawned again. “I don’t think so. Actually, they seemed more interested in your office, than they did hers, but I’m sure they’ll be back. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?” He ran his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes.
“I’m okay. I got a couple of hours of sleep. You’re the one that should go home. I bet you didn’t get any sleep.”
He got to his feet, and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. “You’re right. Let’s both go home. Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.” He grabbed my elbow and steered me toward the door.
I didn’t feel like arguing with him. Since he wouldn’t leave unless I did, I decided to let him walk me to the basement to my car. I’d wait until he pulled out and then go back up to the office. I didn’t want him to feel guilty about leaving, but I wasn’t ready to go. I had phones calls to return. In addition, I needed to notify my staff they could return tomorrow. And I wanted a look at Monica’s files.
Detective Delgado walked up while we were waiting for the elevator to the parking garage. His cool green eyes skimmed over Alan and the hand still holding my elbow. “I’m glad I caught you before you left. I’d like to go over the deceased’s files with you.”
His eyes meeting mine sent a shiver down my back. Suddenly I didn’t feel tired anymore. “Sure no problem.” I gave Alan a shrug.
The elevator doors opened, but instead of stepping inside, Alan tightened his hold on my arm, turned away from the elevator, and started to walk toward the office.
Delgado put a hand up to stop him. “There’s no need for you to stay Harris. You look like hell, go home. I won‘t keep her long.” When Alan started to protest, Delgado just looked at him, making it apparent to both of us he did not intend to let Alan accompany us. The two men exchanged some sort of silent macho communication. After a tense moment, Delgado stepped aside and motioned for me to lead the way. Alan turned back to the elevator and punched the down button hard.
“Is there something between you two?” Delgado asked when we were out of earshot of Alan.
“No. We’re just co-workers. Why?”
“Is he always so protective of his . . . co-workers?” he said lifting one eyebrow.
We’d reached the office, so I didn’t reply. I busied myself unlocking the door. I really didn’t know the answer. Alan had seemed tense lately and more attentive than usual, but he couldn’t be jealous of Delgado as Charlene suspected.
As we walked to Monica’s office, I sneaked a look at the handsome detective. His face alone was enough to destroy a woman, chiseled features, strong chin punctuated by the five o’clock shadow, and full lips made for kissing. As usual, he looked straight ahead, not at me. He stepped back to allow me to enter the office first, managing to keep a distance between us, even when I stopped in the doorway. The place was a mess. Papers strewn around the room, falling out of files piled up randomly on the desk. “Did your people do this?” I asked.
He looked around. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“She would never have left her office like this. She was a neat freak and compulsive about confidentiality. I’ve never seen more than one file on her desk at any one time. Even when she came into my office to discuss the cases she worked on, they were all neatly organized in an expanding file.”
“Can you tell if there’s anything missing?”
Shaking my head, I said, “I doubt it. I’ve spent most of my time in meetings, so I haven’t talked to her in over a week. I don’t really know what cases she worked on lately. The best I can do is to sort through this mess and separate the old ones from the new ones still pending.”
More to himself than to me, he said, “Someone was looking for something. They ransacked her house as well.”
I sat down at the desk and pulled a pile toward me. Delgado remained standing. Rest
ing one hand on the back of my chair, he leaned over my shoulder. He smelled wonderful, musky aftershave with just a hint of mint. His face was so close I felt his breath on the back of my neck. It played havoc with my concentration. I kept thinking that if I turned my head, his face would be right there looking at me. I’d look up into those beautiful green eyes. He would have that crooked little smile on his face. Then he would take my face in his hands and . . .
His phone rang destroying my perfect little daydream. He walked into the outer office before answering it. When he came back, he said, “There’s no hurry on this,” waving his hand at the files. “We just got a lead.” He turned to leave.
I followed him to the door. “Wait, did you find out her real name?”
“We matched her fingerprints to an arrest record in St. Louis. Her real name is Marcia Sullivan.”
“Why were her fingerprints on record?” I had the door keys in my hand, but I didn’t use them, waiting for him to answer.
“She was picked up as an accomplice in a burglary six years ago; she managed to get probation by testifying against her husband, Jimmy Sullivan. He was released from prison three months ago. It looks like she had a good reason to run.”
“Is he under arrest?” I unlocked the door.
“Not yet, but it won’t take long. I’ll let Harris know once we catch him.” With that, he left.
I wanted to yell, “Wait, does that mean I won’t see you again,” but that would have been pathetic, so I held it in. Instead, I went back to Monica’s office, picked up the phone, returned calls, and informed my staff that the office would be open for business in the morning. Then I gathered up my things, locked up the office and left. Like he said, there was no hurry and suddenly I was exhausted.
Once home, I undressed and fell into bed. A few hours later, someone pounding on my door woke me. I grabbed a robe, and looked through the spy hole. Alan stood on the porch. Opening the door, I asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I came to check on you. You’re not answering your cell phone.”
“Oh, I forgot to recharge it. It‘s probably dead. Has something happened?”
“Not really. I just wanted to let you know the police identified Monica and they think her ex-husband may be the killer. When I couldn’t reach you, I got worried. So I came to check on you. Am I interrupting anything?”
“What?”
He looked me up and down. “Well, it’s only eight o’clock at night and you’re in a bathrobe. I don’t want to intrude if you’re entertaining.”
It takes me awhile to wake up even after my feet hit the floor, so only now did I realize he was still standing outside. “No, I’m alone. Just taking a nap.” I stepped back and motioned for him to come in. “Actually I already knew about the identification. Delgado got the phone call while we were still in Monica’s office going over the files. That’s why I came home. If her husband did kill her, there’s no hurry to check out the files.”
Now awake, something seemed wrong with that scenario. Thinking aloud, I said, “I guess he could have tracked her down at work, but why in my office and how did she get in?”
Alan didn’t say anything. He just stood there looking at me.
“Are you listening?” I asked.
He smiled and moved a step closer. “No. Actually I’m thinking how seductive you look in that bathrobe.”
“Oh!” I’d forgotten I wasn’t really dressed. I pulled the sides of the robe together where it had gaped open. “Let me put on some clothes. I’ll be right back.”
Before I could turn away, he grabbed the belt of the robe and pulled me to him. “I think I like you better this way.”
Stunned, I didn’t know what to say. Still, I didn’t resist when he put his arms around me, drew me to him, and kissed me. It had been a long time since a man held me. His strong arms around me felt wonderful. He was a good kisser. I slipped my arms around his neck and kissed him back, reveling in the feeling. When his lips started moving down my neck, I came to my senses, gently but firmly pushing him away. “I’m sorry. You know we can’t do this.”
He held on, trapping me in his arms. Kissing my jaw just under my ear, he whispered, “For once in your life, Val, break the rules. Just go with the feeling.”
In control now, I pushed against him harder until he let go. “You know I can’t. If anything happened between us, Tony would know the instant I walked in his office. It would be all over my face, then one of us would have to quit.”
Eyes twinkling, he reached up and ran his finger lightly down the side of my face. “You never know. It might be worth it. How will we ever know unless we give it a try?” He looked into my eyes, a slight smile on his face.
The man was good, but I had been conned by the best. My ex-husband, one of the most charming men alive, loved women, literally. It took me two years to realize that we each had a different definition of marriage. I wanted a monogamous relationship; he wanted a guarantee that he would have someone to come home to if other interests didn’t pan out. He claimed he loved me and his numerous affairs didn’t affect or diminish that love. Whether or not it was true for him, his affairs killed my love. I couldn’t and wouldn’t share. Consequently, not into the kind of trial relationship Alan proposed, I folded my arms in front of me and said coldly without the least hint of passion, “Fine, as long as you’re the one who quits.”
I don’t know which stopped him, the threat, or the lack of enthusiasm in my voice. He dropped his hands. After a moment, he smiled and said, “You win. Go get dressed and I’ll order us a pizza.”
On the way to the bedroom, over my shoulder I said, “Pepperoni, mushroom and black olives, and make it a large. I’m starving.” I looked in the mirror. I couldn’t believe he thought I looked sexy. I hadn’t bothered to take the pins out of my hair before I lay down, so half of it straggled down one side of my face. I removed the rest of the pins, brushed it straight, and threw on an oversized T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants, going for the opposite of sexy. I didn’t want any more temptation. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Alan, and I didn’t want to have to decide right now. I was glad he wasn’t mad. At the very least, I valued his friendship and I didn’t want any awkwardness at work.
Alan stood by the phone looking through circulars I got in the mail. My kitchen was small with a counter between it and the dining room. The phone hung on the wall at the end of the counter, and that was where I tossed my mail.
He looked at his watch. “The pizza should be here in about ten minutes.”
I set out plates and napkins. Looking in the refrigerator I said, “What do you want to drink? I only have diet soda, but there’s milk or water.”
“I know you don’t drink, so I’m guessing you don’t have a beer in there.”
“Not unless you count diet root beer.”
With a big sigh, he said he’d make do with water. The doorbell rang and he went to answer it.
When he didn’t come back with the pizza, I wandered out. Delgado stood in the doorway. His eyes raked me up and down and then swung back to Alan. Looking back at me, he raised one eyebrow, making it clear he thought I had lied to him about my relationship with Alan. Even though I hadn’t done anything wrong, I felt guilty.
Delgado had changed into jeans, a T-shirt, and a black leather jacket, biker sexy. Somehow, he managed to combine dangerous and sophisticated into one cohesive persona.
I looked down at my non-sexy outfit, glad I wasn’t still wearing the bathrobe, but wishing I looked better.
“Alan came over to tell me about the identification,” I babbled, feeling like I owed him an explanation. The pizza delivery guy arrived and saved me from making a complete idiot of myself. While Alan paid for the pizza, I invited Delgado to join us.
I didn‘t expect him to accept, but following me into the kitchen he said, “Sure. It smells good. I’ve been trying to reach you on your cell phone.”
“Oh, right. Alan said the same thing. I keep forgetting to plug it in.” I
dug it out of my purse and slipped it into the charger on the counter next to the wall phone. Most people I know have gotten rid of their landline, just relying on their cell phone. However, I’m forever forgetting to recharge mine, so I keep my home phone as backup. It was also the only number I gave my mother. “Why were you trying to reach me?” I said as I set out another plate.
Alan walked in. “Have you caught the husband yet?” He set an extra large pizza and bread sticks on the table.
Delgado took a slice of pizza and put it on his plate. “Yes, but we’re fairly certain he didn’t do it.”
“Why is that?” I asked, pulling strings of cheese from my own slice.
“Because they just picked him up in St. Louis robbing a liquor store. It’s just possible he had time to kill the girl here and return to St. Louis, but it’s not likely. He doesn’t seem to have the money or transportation. He admits to looking for her. Says she owed him for taking the rap for the burglary. He wanted compensation.”
“Was there anyone else in on the burglary?” asked Alan.
“No charges against anyone else, but you never know.”
“Did you find out anything more about Monica?” I asked.
He hesitated and then shrugged. “I might as well tell you since it has already been leaked to the papers. He did tell us a little more about Monica‘s background. She was born Marcia LaSalle, the only child of Lorraine LaSalle. Lorraine worked as a secretary to a prominent Missouri senator and rumored to be his mistress. Jimmy says that Lorraine kicked Marcia out at the age of sixteen. Marcia was picked up for prostitution a couple of times in the next couple of years, but never charged. According to Jimmy, he came along and rescued her from the street. Since his rap sheet is several pages long with arrests for theft, dealing drugs, assault, and pimping, I don‘t know if her life got much better. When money got tight, they decided to rob the senator. Marcia knew his routine, and since the senator sneaked her mother in every time the wife left town, she also knew the alarm codes. Everything went smoothly. Jimmy and Marcia lived high for the next couple of months on the proceeds of their heist. When the money ran out, they tried to pawn some of the jewelry, which led the police right to them.
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