by Shayla Black
“But he was gone by the time you arrived?” She wanted to get the timeline down. “I’ve heard surveillance cameras caught him going into the motel but not coming out of it.”
“Yes. The cameras in the motel are stationary. Cheap security, nothing that you couldn’t buy at a local electronics store, so they don’t swing.” Her uncle rolled his eyes. “There were only a few cameras in high-traffic areas. Apparently the admiral left through a different door than he entered. Besides being captured by the security camera in the hall, the motel employee I spoke to identified him. As far as I can tell, the caller was most likely another guest of the motel. She didn’t leave her name because she was probably a working girl.”
The motel that had become the scene of the crime was well known for its hourly rates. A prostitute likely wouldn’t want to deal with the police on any level. It was surprising that anyone who frequented the place would call in at all. “I can hardly imagine the admiral going to a rattrap like that.”
“Men have their secrets, Holland. I believe I taught you that, too,” he said with a sad sigh. “What men present to the women they love tends to be a shiny, happy surface they don’t ever want their wives and daughters to scratch past. We’re dark creatures, especially someone like the admiral. You know he’d cheated on his wife for years.”
“I heard that rumor.” There had been any number of salacious bits of gossip floating around after the story broke. The tabloids had speculated about everything from numerous mistresses to orgies in the name of Satan.
Her uncle’s voice softened in sympathy. “No, honey. That was what his wife told us after his death. She accepted who her husband was, though she didn’t know about the underage girls. I think that’s what broke her. She thought she was the only one Hal Spencer was hurting.”
Holland’s stomach took a nosedive. She definitely didn’t want to be the one who had to tell Dax that his mother believed the accusations. “Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me everything you know. I’d also like any and all information you have on the victim.”
She didn’t say alleged victim. One way or another that girl had been victimized. She’d been fifteen. Holland had seen Amber Taylor’s picture on the evening news, watched as she’d been escorted into the police station by two burly officers at her side. She’d been a pretty girl who, with a little makeup, could definitely have passed for much older. She had the body of an adult, but Holland had been haunted by her eyes. They’d been what truly made the girl look older. She’d had the blank stare of someone who had seen far too much and no longer cared.
Had Admiral Harold Spencer put that look on the girl’s face? She didn’t want to believe it, but then she knew enough about criminals to know the smart ones could fool the people closest to them. The most successful pedophiles, rapists, and killers came with nice faces and demeanors that hoodwinked those around them.
Holland started taking notes as her uncle ran through the basics of the case with her.
Almost an hour had passed when she stood and stretched. “I know you’re against me looking into this. So thank you for sharing your information with me.”
Her uncle approached from behind his desk and enveloped her in a bear hug. “Now, honey, you know I’d do anything for you. I love you like you were my own. That’s why I’m going to tell you to be careful with that Spencer boy.”
She gave him a squeeze and then pulled away. “I’m not dating him.”
“But you’d like to.” He gave her a little shake. “Hell, if I was female I’d want that boy, too. He’s handsome and rich and charming. Apparently he’s got a very large—”
“Uncle Beau!”
“Heart.” He laughed out loud. “You didn’t let me finish. I was going to say that he must have a big heart since he’s done so much charity work. You hush that nasty mind now, girl. All I’m saying is I understand the impulse to be around the boy. But he’s asking something of you that you might not be able to give and I don’t know how he’ll handle it if you tell him something he doesn’t want to hear.”
If she had to tell him all the evidence pointed to his father’s guilt, he would be so angry. He could possibly turn that anger on her. No one liked to hear bad things about their loved ones. Yes, cops got to hand out bad news all the time. It was part of the job. Still, she couldn’t stand the thought of Dax Spencer hating her. Even though they weren’t together, knowing they liked each other was somehow a comfort.
“I’m sure it won’t cause any trouble. I’ll be professional and he will, too. He’s given this over to me, so you shouldn’t have to deal with him at all.”
Her uncle raised his brows. “Really? Not even once? Because it looks like I’m about to deal with him right now.”
She turned and sure enough Captain Spencer was standing in the middle of the precinct, staring at her with his eyes narrowed. He wore civilian clothes, slacks and a dress shirt. No tie. He didn’t need one. He looked cool and in charge. And fairly angry, if she read the set of his shoulders right.
He stormed over. She could practically hear the clomping of his probably ridiculously overpriced loafers as he made his way toward her.
“So it’s all professional?” Her uncle sounded entirely amused.
“It is on my side.” But something about Dax’s expression looked as if he had other ideas.
He strode up to them, his stare never leaving her face. “Hello, Holland. I thought we were meeting tomorrow.”
“I did as well.”
“I thought we were going over the case tomorrow at lunch.”
“No. I never said anything about lunch.”
His face turned a bit pink. “Holland, I thought we were partners. Tell me you’re not here talking to your uncle about my case.”
Was he serious? They had some misconceptions she needed to clear up. “No, we’re not partners. I’m looking into your father’s case. And why, pray tell, are you here, Dax? Do you have some parking tickets? Because those should really be dealt with at the parish courthouse.”
He fell quiet for a moment, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel his anger. “We had a long talk about this yesterday. I thought we’d been clear.”
“Then why the hell are you here, Spencer?”
She was pleased when he went a more brilliant shade of red.
Her uncle leaned against the doorjamb. “You two seem to be completely on the same page. I’m utterly sure this is going to work out for the best.”
Dax exhaled, looking as if he tried to relax. “You never told me your uncle ran the civilian investigation.”
“I didn’t think it mattered. I told you I would look into it. And I made plans to keep you up to date. You never intended to let me investigate, did you? You thought you’d be with me every step of the way.”
Her uncle let out a long sigh. “Y’all obviously have more to work out than you thought. I don’t think this is the place to do it. You might not mind some gossip, Captain Spencer, but I don’t like men flapping their gums about my niece, not even the ones I work with.”
Sure enough when she looked around, all eyes were on them. Every cop in the precinct was watching. She wasn’t afraid they would go to the press, but she knew damn well they would talk amongst themselves. That would be uncomfortable for her uncle. “I’m sorry. We’ll leave. I need to make a few things clear to the captain.”
Dax nodded. “Yes, I think we need to talk.”
Uncle Beau waved his arm as though shooing away a couple of unwanted cats. “Go on, then. Holland, honey, why don’t you take him on over to Antoine’s? It’s quiet there this time of day and the staff is discreet.”
And her uncle had a standing dinner reservation there. He didn’t often use it, but Antoine’s had been serving NOLA’s power players for as long as it had been open. She could get a drink and maybe cool the situation down. “What do you say, Captain Awesome?”
He rolled his eyes, but it was obvious she’d managed
to deflate his anger. “All right. I could use a drink. Commander, I apologize. I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”
“See that you don’t get my niece in trouble, now. You hear?”
Yes, she was right back to feeling like a teenager and her uncle was vetting her boyfriends. It was obvious he didn’t like this one. She sighed and led Dax out into the late afternoon sunlight.
* * *
He followed Holland and the hostess into the cool back room of Antoine’s. They’d walked past the sunny environs of the front dining room. That was for tourists and families celebrating special occasions. The real politics of New Orleans happened in the back of the establishment, the room where the sunlight didn’t reach.
Once they’d arrived at a corner table, Dax sat across from her and pondered what to say.
He’d fucked up. He’d known she expected to shake a few trees and report back to him. But he’d been itching to do some fact finding of his own and talk to her uncle so he’d have something to bring to the table at their meeting tomorrow. Maybe then she’d see that they could work together. And a part of him hoped that if she could partner with him in the investigation, she’d see that they could partner in other ways.
“I’m sorry about the scene at the police station.” He needed to calm her and talk that horrible cop frown off her face. She wore it like a mask, and Dax wanted to talk to the woman.
“Why were you there?” And she was using her cop voice on him, too. It was bland and impersonal. He was sure she used that voice when she was questioning a suspect.
“You know why I was there.” He wasn’t going to lie. Honesty was his only way out of the mess he’d plopped himself in. “I found out your uncle led the initial civilian investigation and I wanted to ask him a few questions.”
“You didn’t think I could manage that all on my own?” Her frown turned right side up, into a friendly grin, as the waiter approached. “Thanks, I don’t need a menu. I’ll have a Sazerac and for dinner the Poulet sauce Rochambeau with asperges au Beurre.”
Show-off. Her accent was perfect and she had the menu memorized like a good NOLA daughter would. Well, he was a son and he could play that game, too. “I’ll have a Sazerac as well and let’s start with the Huitres Bienville for the table. For my entrée I’ll have the Crabes mous frits and pommes de terre. Merci.”
The waiter nodded and went off to put their orders in.
Holland finally smiled just enough to let him know she was amused. “Really? Oysters?”
Sure they were an aphrodisiac, but they were also quite good. “If you don’t want any, chère, I’ll eat them all myself.”
She pulled the white napkin out, settling it over her lap. “I’ll have a few. I don’t know that you should eat a dozen oysters. God only knows what it will do for your libido.”
He was glad she was finally relaxing after their tense trek to the restaurant. “Your French is excellent.”
“I spent most of my teen years here. My aunt and uncle spoke a lot of French in their home. It was a survival skill. It’s also one of the reasons I got the job here. There are still a lot of people around here who speak Creole or some form of it. Even I can get confused out on the bayou.”
Because some communities out there cut themselves off from the world. They spoke the old languages and didn’t like authorities nosing into their business. “You shouldn’t have to go out there often.”
“More than you’d think. Navy boys can be very adventurous. Now, what exactly did you think you could accomplish with my uncle that I couldn’t?” She was right back to formal, though she accepted her drink from the passing waiter with a gracious smile.
Maybe a Sazerac or two could break through her chilly reserve. And maybe so could honesty. “I wanted to walk into tomorrow’s meeting with something solid to show you.”
“That’s supposed to be my job, Captain.” She took a healthy sip of the whiskey and absinthe cocktail. “I’m the investigator. You asked me to look into it.”
He had to tread carefully here. “Not exactly. I asked you to help me look into it.”
“Then we have a problem, because I’m not taking you everywhere with me. Your presence will do more harm than good. Can’t you see that?”
“All I see is that my family was destroyed and I don’t think I can sit on my hands while someone else finds out why.”
“They don’t seem destroyed, Dax.” She softened and leaned forward. “Your mother is finally getting out again. She’s seeing her friends.”
“The ones who didn’t turn their backs on her.”
“Yes, her real friends. She’s playing bridge again and she’s planning a cruise with some of her old sorority sisters.”
“She told you about that, huh?”
“I have dinner with her from time to time. As for Gus, she’s smiling again. She’s back to being Gus. And I heard she’s about to start a big new job for the White House. They’re not destroyed, Dax. They’re starting to live again, and this could bring it all back.”
Did she think he hadn’t considered that? “That’s why I’m trying to keep quiet. But I can’t let it go when I know someone did something terrible to my father. I can’t allow it to pass simply because my mother and sister are getting over it.”
“The bigger issue is, you’re not getting over it.”
“Don’t turn this into something selfish, Holland.”
“I’m sorry if it sounded like that. That wasn’t my intention. You need closure to move forward. And you deserve that. What you’re saying is that you won’t find that closure unless you’re active in this investigation, right?”
He shook his head. “I can’t sit on the sidelines this time.”
“You didn’t sit on the sidelines last time. You marched out onto the field and told the other players how awful they were.”
Put like that, he had been an ass. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking logically at the time.”
“No one can under those circumstances.” She swirled her drink around. “Tell me something. Are you going to be able to handle it if this investigation doesn’t go your way?”
It wasn’t going to end up like that. He was one hundred percent certain, so he could easily answer her. “Yes. Though I don’t think I’ll be able to believe it if I don’t see it with my own two eyes.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” She sat back. “All right. I’ll let you know what’s going on, and where it’s appropriate, you can come with me. The first time you cause trouble, I stop investigating.”
That was all he could hope for. “I won’t cause trouble. I know I did last time. But I’m ready to find the truth now. What did you learn from your uncle? Scary guy, by the way.”
Beauregard Kirk was built like a linebacker and looked twice as mean.
“You should have seen the way he liked to scare off my prospective dates in high school. He would greet them with a shotgun. I didn’t really date much until I went off to college. But on to the topic at hand,” she said as a segue. “I learned a little something new. Have you ever been to the Raven Motel?”
The name made his stomach turn. He took another drink. “I hadn’t been there before the incident. I know its reputation, though. It’s a place where hookers take their johns. Did anyone uncover the name of the woman who called in the tip?”
“I’ve got a copy of the call. It was never released to the press for obvious reasons.”
He knew exactly the reason. “If the woman was a prostitute, it would have made the police’s narrative seem a little less substantial.”
“Yes. Besides, the woman was trying to do a good deed. If she didn’t want to be identified, that’s her business. We want to keep anonymous tips anonymous or no one will call in.”
He understood the reasoning behind it, but damn he wanted to talk to that woman. “I’d like to listen to it. Her accent alone might tell us something.”
Holland nodded. “Agreed, but I don’t know
that finding out who made the call will change anything. We’ve still got the issue of the security tape.”
He remembered that footage well. That fifteen seconds of tape had been played over and over on the news. Something about that seemed fishy as well. “It never shows my father’s face, only the girl’s.”
“Yes, but your father was in uniform. He’s identified by the insignia and there’s the moment when the girl looks up at him. We had our best lip-readers figure out what she was saying.”
Where are you taking me, Admiral Hal?
She’d asked the question as they walked down the hall toward the rooms. There hadn’t been any audio.
“How stupid do you think my father would have to be to take the risk that someone would notice an officer in full uniform?”
“I wouldn’t say stupid. I would say reckless, and that does
