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Reunited with the P.I.

Page 6

by Anna J. Stewart


  “It’s faint. What is it? Cleaning fluid?”

  “Bleach.” Vince ducked into the small kitchen and pulled open the fridge.

  Dread pooled thick in her throat. Guess she could add bleach to her list of least favorite words ever.

  “Simone?”

  She spun to find Jack standing in the front doorway. “Oh, hi, Jack. Good morning.” She needed to stay calm, not to overreact. Jack would have told her if he’d found something. Mara was fine. Scared but fine. Until Simone knew otherwise, she wouldn’t accept anything else.

  Jack frowned and closed the door. “How did you get in here? I heard voices.”

  “Ah...” Simone glanced over her shoulder as Vince popped back into view to examine the fruit bowl on Mara’s breakfast counter. “It was open?”

  “Vince Sutton, private investigator.” Vince joined them, held out his gloved hand. “You must be Detective McTavish.”

  “Wish I could say the introduction answers all my questions at the moment.” Jack’s trademark friendliness disappeared beneath a dark look of skepticism directed at her. “Simone? Care to explain?” He was dressed in his usual jeans and white button-down shirt, and the khaki blazer kicked up the casual look enough to be both practical and eye-catching. She couldn’t help but compare and contrast the two men. Brooding versus friendly. Pessimist versus optimist. Sexy bad boy versus good-intentioned...what was wrong with her?

  “I hired Vince to look into Mara’s disappearance.” Simone cut to the chase. “He’s had a lot of experience with missing persons’ cases.”

  “Sutton. I know that name.” Jack’s frown deepened.

  Simone’s cheeks went hot. “Well, he has a good reputation—”

  “Had,” Vince interrupted. “I’ve been out of the business for a while. I’m also her ex-husband.”

  It took a moment for the disbelief to shift out of Jack’s gaze. “Right.” His slow, rational nod made Simone ache to explain. Not that there was anything to explain. This was a business arrangement between her and Vince. A quid pro quo. He was helping her find Mara and she’d said she’d help his brother. “I didn’t realize you two had reconnected,” Jack added. “This recent?”

  “Very.” Simone cringed.

  “I’m going to keep looking around so the two of you can discuss this.” Vince’s tone scraped Simone’s nerves as he looked between the two of them, a wall of ice settling in his steely gaze.

  “There’s nothing to discuss.” Simone gave him a strained smile but he still moved off. What? Did he expect her to become celibate once their marriage had ended? Although come to think about it... “Jack, I needed to hire someone without any connections to the DA’s office. If this is going to be a problem—”

  “It’ll only be a problem if he keeps breaking into things. I’m a little surprised at you, Simone. I thought there were some lines you didn’t cross.”

  “There are, Jack.” There were. “And no, I’m not thrilled about it.” Simone folded her arms over her chest. “And a crime scene?”

  “You don’t smell that?” Jack backed up, reaching the hallway that led to the bedroom. “Someone’s cleaned up in here. What else have you found?”

  “Other than a stocked refrigerator, not much. We were just getting started when you got here,” Vince called from Mara’s bedroom.

  Simone swore. She’d forgotten about his bat-like hearing.

  “The smell’s stronger in here,” Jack said, entering the bedroom with en suite bathroom. As she joined them, she heard the whine of a cabinet being opened. “The sleeping pills used in the deputies’ coffee match the brand in her medicine cabinet.”

  “There’s no suitcase,” Vince stated, staring into the open closet. “And I haven’t found keys. Her purse and cell phone are gone. Car, too?”

  “Yes.” The more they talked, the less assured Simone became. “What about the notes Russo sent you, Jack?” Simone asked him as he emerged from the bathroom. “Was there anything that seemed strange?”

  “He mentioned a few visitors over the past few weeks. She stuck to her schedule faithfully, didn’t vary much from her routine. I saw a couple of things that could use a second glance, including some odd license plates on cars that made frequent appearances. I assume you’ll want to take a look?” he asked Vince.

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  Simone didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned that the two guys had fallen into a weird professional camaraderie. “We already had all tenants’ cars on record,” Simone said. “What did you mean about her refrigerator?”

  “She’s an accountant by trade, correct?” Vince shrugged, hands outstretched. “Where’s her office?”

  “There’s a desk in the dining area.” Simone, Jack and Vince returned to the main living space. She pointed at the table and moved aside as both men focused on Mara’s belongings.

  Jack immediately clicked on Mara’s laptop while Vince sorted through mail and receipts. Simone scanned the bookcases, where she noted the collection of mystery novels, books on logic and a DVD collection featuring mostly British detective shows.

  “For an accountant, I’m surprised her computer’s not more secure,” Jack said. “Her passwords are all stored, at least for her emails. Everything that’s bookmarked is completely innocuous. Last message she sent was the night before she disappeared. Eleven forty-five, to someone named Gale Alders. They made plans to meet for lunch once the trial’s over.” He looked at Simone. “Doesn’t sound like someone getting ready to vanish.”

  “She bought all those groceries two days ago,” Vince said. “The same day she sent that email. I don’t know about you, but if I’m planning on leaving town, I don’t replenish the fridge.”

  Simone worried that the case was about to go very, very bad. She wandered back to the bedroom and stopped short at the foot of the bed. Vacuum marks streaked the coffee-colored carpet; the dresser drawers were closed. She checked the clothes still hanging in the closet. “This place is immaculate,” she called out to them.

  “Jack’s right. Someone definitely cleaned up,” Vince said from behind her.

  “I need to make a call,” Jack said, as she and Vince returned to the living room. Jack headed outside.

  “Are you going to tell me what you’re thinking?” Simone asked Vince as he pulled the vacuum out of the closet.

  “I’m wondering if whoever cleaned up this apartment cleaned up after themselves.” He popped the canister off the appliance and, after retrieving a towel from the bathroom, dumped the contents out. She stooped down as Vince brushed his fingers through dust clumps and shards of glass.

  “Something must have broken.” Simone tucked her hair behind her ear. Bits of glass sparkled.

  “Can one of you answer a question for me?” Jack asked as he rejoined them.

  “What?” Simone pushed to her feet as Vince stayed crouched.

  “How can two deputies be suspended for dereliction of duty regarding a missing person’s case that doesn’t exist?”

  She rounded on Jack. “Ward told me last night he was filing a witness warrant as soon as we were done talking.”

  Jack winced. “Either he forgot or he changed his mind.”

  “Ward didn’t become DA by forgetting to file warrants,” she said. Had Cal Hobard intervened?

  “Well, there’s nothing on record,” Jack said. “So, my question stands.”

  Vince straightened. “Might this have something to do with what you didn’t want to tell me about last night?” he murmured in her ear.

  She lifted her foot and planted her heel on his shoe. She heard him suck in a sharp breath, but he refrained from saying more.

  “I just talked to Missing Persons,” Jack continued. “They have no report for someone missing, matching Mara Orlov’s description.” Jack looked down at the dir
ty towel and pointed to it. “You part archaeologist, too?”

  “Someone thought to clean up,” Vince said. “There’s broken glass here. Crystal, the good stuff.”

  Simone still remembered the befuddled expression on his face when he’d encountered the crystal jam jar her mother had sent for their wedding present. He’d remarked that they could have used what it had cost for a down payment on a house.

  “Trash in the bathroom was empty,” Jack said. “I’ll check the kitchen.”

  “You two are like ping-pong balls.” Simone left Vince, and struggled for the right words as she approached Jack. “Look, I know this isn’t the time, but about Vince and me—”

  “You don’t owe me any explanation, Simone.” Did he have to sound so understanding? “We went out on a few dates, nothing major. I know we’re just friends.” He opened the counter under the sink and grabbed the garbage can.

  They’d had some good times together. Dinner, movies, walks in the park. She liked being around him. He was fun. But as far as attraction went? Well, she’d certainly wanted it to be there and maybe if she’d never been involved with Vince, it might have been. Jack was a good guy. He was... Simone sighed. Jack was safe. “Do you?”

  “If I didn’t before, I do now. Should have listened to Cole. He warned me not to get attached. Leave it be, Simone.” He held up a hand. “While I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been hoping for more, I can take a hint. No need to hit me over the head with an ex-marine.”

  Guilt twisted her insides. She hated to disappoint him. “I’m sorry, Jack. I really like you.”

  “Please don’t twist the knife deeper. Not the first time I’ve fallen for the wrong girl.” He angled a smile at her that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It probably won’t be the last.” He took a cue from Vince and dumped the can’s contents onto the floor. “Broken vase it looks like. And what’s this?” He hefted a chunk of glass into his hand.

  “I remember seeing a crystal clock on her nightstand the last time I was here.” The shards Vince had found earlier could also have come from that. “Wait, is that...blood?” She pointed to the bright spot of red in one of the crevices.

  “Looks like it to me.” Jack grimaced. “Could be hers. Or not.”

  “You should get a crime scene tech here right away.” Vince had joined them.

  “Yeah.” Jack set the crystal fragment on the counter and stepped away from the debris and can on the floor. “I’ll call Tammy in the lab, have her collect all this. In the meantime—hey, where are you going?”

  Vince was at the front door. “I saw surveillance cameras at the school across the street. A couple of the neighbors downstairs had them as well.”

  “I can get a warrant—”

  “Someone’s going to a lot of trouble to keep this case on the QT,” Vince said and gestured at the living room. “A solitary lab tech is one thing, but think about it. You’ve got a missing witness, two drugged deputies and a cleaned-up crime scene. You also have a DA who, for whatever reason, doesn’t appear to be doing his due diligence to locate the crucial witness. This isn’t a missing person’s case, Detective. This is a lot of planning, both before and after the fact. You request a warrant and whatever else, you’ll be letting whoever might be involved know they didn’t get away with it.”

  “The DA already knows I’m looking into Mara’s disappearance,” Simone said.

  “He knows you’re looking,” Vince said. “He doesn’t know about me, and he doesn’t know about Jack, right?”

  “Not as far as I know, no.” Simone caught her lip in her teeth. But that could change at any minute. Ward could become aware that Jack and Vince were helping her. This was getting out of control fast.

  “Hold on,” Jack ordered. “Are you suggesting someone in the police—”

  “I’m not, actually,” Vince said. “It goes higher up than that, right, Simone?” How she wished he’d stop looking at her like that. “This is your call. You hired me. You’re the one who followed her gut and went outside her office. You decide.”

  How had this happened? Jack was right. She needed this investigation done by the letter of the law if she hoped to salvage the case and her career. The law had been her life for as long as she could remember. The idea of justice, of due process, had settled in her soul before she’d turned ten years old. Without rules, without structure, everything collapsed. People got hurt.

  Simone swallowed.

  People died. But Vince was right, too. Making Mara’s disappearance about anything other than a nervous witness with cold feet could spell disaster for everyone in the long run, especially Mara. Simone had to err on the side of caution, and the safety of the young woman’s future.

  “Vince, would you give me and Jack a few minutes?” Her ex-husband left them and Simone took a deep breath. “Jack, I’m going to ask you to do as Vince says and keep this as quiet as you can. Not forever. And hopefully, not for long, but at least until Monday.” Might as well pile everything into one potentially career-ending weekend and go out with a bang.

  She’d never seen someone’s faith in her dim right before her eyes and it hurt far more than she’d ever imagined it could.

  “You know how much trouble you’re in if this goes bad?” Jack asked. “We’re not talking sorta bad or kinda bad, Simone. We’re talking full-on bad. It’ll taint everyone involved.”

  “I can’t worry about that.” She felt as if she’d been pushed down a road she’d sworn never to take. Simone Armstrong didn’t cut corners; she didn’t break the rules and she certainly didn’t skirt the law. Something told her, however, that by the time this case was settled, she’d have done all of the above and more. “Please, Jack. Mara’s life might depend on it. Tell me you’re on board with us.”

  Jack shook his head and blew out a harsh breath. “Wow. Okay, I’ll follow your lead and do my best to keep Tammy silent, but I never thought I’d see the day where you’d trust your ex-husband over everyone you’ve worked with the past five years.”

  His anger didn’t surprise her; she only wished she could explain everything. But she couldn’t. Not to Jack. Maybe not even to herself. “I trusted you enough to include you, Jack. If that doesn’t mean much, say the word.”

  “I’m not leaving you out here on your own, Simone. You need me, you say the word.”

  “I appreciate that, Jack. And I’m not on my own, remember? I’ve got Vince.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said. “The guy who walked out on you three years ago. That makes me feel a whole lot better.”

  Chapter 6

  When Vince returned to Mara’s apartment complex, flash drive in hand, he found Simone sitting on the stone steps, arms wrapped around her knees peeking out from the ruffle hem of her skirt. He could hear voices coming from the apartment and assumed they belonged to Jack and the lab tech he’d called in.

  A chill ran up Vince’s arms. The ease with which he’d found himself slipping back into being an investigator unsettled him. It was as if his subconscious was agreeing with Simone’s observations from last night.

  He’d always prided himself on being meticulous, on trying to see every angle. But that was before the Walker case had become personal, so personal he’d found himself walking a thin line between bringing a perpetrator to justice and doling out revenge.

  If Simone wasn’t careful, if she didn’t somehow separate herself from the victim, from Mara, she was going to find herself falling down that same, slippery, life-changing slope.

  It was only a matter of time before the reality of this case—and Mara’s fate—would hit her full force. All the more reason to keep things as light as possible while he could, he figured.

  “Tell me something.” He walked up the stone steps and leaned against the railing. “Do you have some kind of force field that keeps your clothes so clean? They should hire you fo
r a detergent commercial.”

  She tried to smile, validating Vince’s concern. That the strain of whatever had happened to Mara was already taking its toll. “Eden always says I will dirt away with the power of my mind. Any luck at the school?”

  “A few well-placed comments about crime statistics in the area got us what we need. I’ll take the footage to my place and run through it once I get back from Davis.”

  “What’s in Davis?”

  “Gale Alders,” Vince replied. “We need a place to start as far as where Mara’s mind was in regard to the trial.” And he’d rather start with someone local.

  Simone looked over her shoulder. “I don’t want to leave here until Jack and Tammy are finished.”

  “Tammy okay with keeping this under the radar for now?”

  “It’s not the first time Jack’s had her do something off the books,” Simone said. “And I kicked in a bottle of her favorite tequila to sweeten the deal.”

  “A tequila girl, huh? You go shot for shot with her yet?” Vince asked. “Does she or Jack know you could drink them both under the table?”

  “I don’t do that much anymore. Just ask Eden and Allie.”

  He didn’t expect this case to last long enough for him to do that.

  “What about the neighbors’ cameras?” Simone asked.

  “One’s been busted for a while, the other is a fake.” A good fake, but useless nonetheless. “Simone, if you’d rather go home and work from there—”

  “I’m going with you,” she said. Maybe his P.I. skills weren’t that sharp because he should have expected this from her. “I need something other than files and reports to focus on. I need to do something. And please don’t ask me how I am. I’m fine, Vince.”

  Hardly. Simone was a talker when things were going well, but she became loquacious when things turned sour. He’d learned to let her ramble and pace, paying enough attention in case his opinion was requested, but it rarely was. Simone’s actions when they used to be together let him know early on that while she may have wanted him in her life, she didn’t necessarily need him. Recalling that now kicked his irritation meter into the red. “You trying to convince me or yourself?”

 

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