by Beth Yarnall
“As co-owner, Dhane was very involved in product development. His partner ran the business side. There was a rumor about the company maybe being for sale, but I don’t know if it had sold or not.”
“Has anything out of the ordinary happened lately?”
“Like what?”
“Like someone hanging around who hadn’t before or a change in the company’s policies or procedures, something like that,” I said.
“No, not really.” Mateo stared off for a moment, his dark eyes fixed on a spot in the distance. “Wait.” His attention returned to us. “There was one thing that was kind of strange.”
“What?” Juan Carlos asked.
“This lady came to the counter early this morning while we were finishing setting up, you know, before the show floor opened.”
“Yeah?” The thrill of a possible clue vibrated inside of me.
“She was asking for Dhane. Got kind of mad when she found out he wasn’t around. Like she was expecting him to be there or something. Like they had a meeting scheduled.”
“Who was she?” I asked.
Mateo’s shoulders hitched up. “Don’t know.”
“Could you find out?”
“Maybe.”
Juan Carlos joined the questioning. “What did she look like?”
Mateo’s glance veered off again. “Kind of small. Dark hair. Hispanic. Smokin’ body.” He flashed a wicked grin. “All T and A, just the way I like them.”
His description sounded kind of familiar. “How was she dressed?” I held my breath for his answer.
“Black dress, tight. I liked that. Her hair was up. I liked that, too. Oh, and she had a big red flower in her hair. She kinda reminded me of Salma Hayek.”
My heart slid into my stomach. He’d described Vivian perfectly. Juan Carlos was staring hard at me. The same shock and disbelief I felt was being reflected right back at me.
I twitched a shoulder, trying to shake loose the bad feeling I was getting. “If you can think of anything else or if you hear something, please give me a call.” I slid my business card across the table to Mateo. “Even if it doesn’t seem important, okay?”
“Sure. Will do.” Mateo tucked my card in his jeans pocket and stood. “I’d better get back to the counter. See you, Juan Carlos. Say hi to George for me.” They exchanged hand pumps and fist bumps with each other. Juan Carlos’s part in it was lackluster at best.
“Later,” Mateo called to the rest of us as he left.
Richard slid over in the booth so we all could spread out. “So what’s with Cartoon Junior here?” he asked me, gesturing toward Jun.
“My name is Jun.”
I sipped my drink, needing a moment to sort out my scattered thoughts. “He’s helping me.” I briefly explained about the note and the gist of the conversation I’d had with Jun earlier.
“Where can we find this Trinity?” Richard asked Jun.
Jun hitched a shoulder. “Tenchi would know.”
“Would he put me in touch with her?” I asked.
“Probably.” Jun sucked up the last of his drink. “But you can’t talk to her.”
I exchanged a long look with Juan Carlos. “What do you mean?”
“She doesn’t talk to people,” Jun replied.
“Then how did she tell Tenchi to give you the note to give to me?”
“She didn’t.”
I slapped a hand to my forehead. “But you just told me she did!”
Jun sucked an ice cube into his mouth and talked around it. “I didn’t mean her.”
“Okay, wait.” Juan Carlos held up a hand. “I’m lost. If this Trinity chick didn’t tell this Tenchi dude, and I’m assuming it’s a dude, to give Azalea the note, then how did he know to give it to her?”
“Through Curio,” Jun answered, digging out another ice cube, totally oblivious to our frustration with him.
I dropped my head on the table.
“Who’s Curio?” Juan Carlos asked.
“Well, he’s really a what not a who.” Jun lassoed a cube on his straw and spun it around until it flung off and hit Richard. “Sorry,” Jun told him.
Richard took the straw from him. “It’s fine. What is Curio then?”
“A skunk.”
That brought my head up. “A real live skunk? In here?”
“Well of course not live.” Jun smiled as if we were all in on the joke.
“A dead skunk?” Juan Carlos shouted.
“Oh! No.” Jun squinted at me. “Did I say Curio was dead?”
Finally catching on to Jun’s path of logic, I asked, “Is Curio a stuffed animal?”
Jun tipped his head to the side, his wide eyes blinking slowly. “Of course.”
“Of course,” we all chimed.
“Where did you find this guy?” Richard mumbled to me out of the side of his mouth.
I waved him away and started in on Jun again. “So Trinity told Curio, the stuffed skunk, to tell Tenchi, a real guy, to tell you to give me the note?”
“Yes!” Jun beamed.
I lifted my glass. “Huzzah!” Then gulped down the last of my drink.
Juan Carlos’s eyebrows bunched up. “Why does she talk through a stuffed skunk? What is she, a child?”
Jun’s mouth flattened into a frown. “You’re being mean.”
“He’s not trying to be.” I laid a hand on Jun’s arm. “We’re just struggling to understand what happened so we can help our friend.”
“That’s okay, I guess,” Jun said. “Trinity is…different.”
“Look who’s talking,” Richard mumbled.
I shot Richard a dirty look, then turned back to Jun. “How is Trinity different?”
“She’s not like you and me.” Jun stabbed at the ice in his glass with his purple straw.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t know for sure so I probably shouldn’t say.”
“We won’t tell anyone, promise.” I had to get him to talk. He knew more about the people in Dhane’s life than anyone I’d met.
Jun looked around the table, checking our expressions for the truth. He bit his bottom lip. “I asked Tenchi about her. He said something happened to her a long time ago. Curio helps her.” He jabbed at the ice again. “That’s all I know.”
He wasn’t looking us in the eyes anymore and I got the feeling he hadn’t told us all he knew. I was really getting tired of people doing that. “Jun. We’re friends, right?”
He bounced in his seat a little, his expression wide open again. “The best.”
“Uh-huh. And friends help friends, right?”
“Always.”
“I need your help.”
Jun bobbed his head. “Okay.”
“I need you to tell me what Tenchi told you about Trinity.”
Jun looked at Richard and Juan Carlos.
“Hey, guys. Why don’t you get Jun another Cherry Coke from the bar?” I suggested, loading it with tons of amscray and I’ll-tell-ya-later facial expressions.
As soon as Richard and Juan Carlos were out of earshot, I started in on Jun again. “What did Tenchi tell you about Trinity?”
“He told me not to tell. I keep my promises.”
I took his hand and gentled my voice. “Jun, my friend Vivian is in really bad trouble. She needs our help. What Tenchi told you might help me find a way to help her. Don’t you want to help?”
He nodded, but he didn’t look convinced.
“Tenchi would understand you telling me just this once, don’t you think?”
He twirled his straw around the inside of his empty glass. “I guess so.”
I sat back and waited. I could see the struggle all over his face. He wanted to help, but he didn’t want to betray his friend. I knew exactly how he felt. I was in the same predicament. I wanted to help Vivian, but I had to do it without betraying her trust.
After a moment he took a breath and gave up on the straw with one final stab. “Tenchi said that when Trinity was little, like may
be five or six, Dhane killed their father. Right in front of her.”
Of all the things I’d imagined he’d say, that was nowhere on the list. It wasn’t even in the same stratosphere as the list. I rubbed at my forehead, searching the far recesses of my mind for a follow up question, but Jun beat me to it.
“I guess Dhane’s father married Trinity’s mother after Dhane’s mother died. Then one day the dad just snapped, attacked Trinity. Dhane killed him to protect her, but he didn’t have to go to jail. Because of what happened, Trinity doesn’t deal well with people. She needs Curio. That’s all I know.” Jun turned away from me and stared down at his empty glass.
I found my voice after a few moments of stunned silence. “Thank you, Jun.”
Jun didn’t answer. I wanted to reach out to him, let him know how much I appreciated his help. I had the strongest urge to hug him hard and tell him he did a good thing, but I couldn’t quite find the words.
We sat in silence for a few moments with me trying to summon the courage to ask him to go one step further. I thought about Dhane. Then I thought about Vivian.
“Do you think I could meet Trinity?” I asked him.
“I guess I could call Tenchi and find out.” He stood up just as Juan Carlos and Richard returned to the table. “I’ll be right back.”
Juan Carlos waited a beat. “Okay, he’s gone. Spill.”
I knew it was a terrible betrayal, but I trusted Richard and Juan Carlos. So I filled them in on the most pertinent parts of what Jun had told me, glossing over or not relaying the bits that I didn’t think were important in determining who had killed Dhane. I really needed their help in sorting through all of this. The sooner we figured out what had happened, the sooner Viv would be released.
“So,” Richard said. “What do you think Dhane’s sister will know that might help Vivian?”
He posed a good question.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “But at least we’ll know what we’re dealing with when we talk to Trinity. Jun is arranging that now.” I turned to Juan Carlos. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the story Vivian told us of how she met Dhane. A couple of the things she said have been bothering me.”
“Me, too.”
“It just didn’t make sense. And it didn’t match some of the things she’d told me before. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Juan Carlos got excited. “I know! There were more holes in her story than a punk-rocker’s head. I thought it was just me. Why would she tell us a story that isn’t complete? What’s she hiding?”
“I don’t know.” That was the million-dollar question. What was she hiding and why? I was especially curious to know if and how it would tie in to Dhane’s murder.
Jun returned, looking a little concerned. “Tenchi said that Trinity will see you. But it has to be now and you have to go in alone.”
Chapter Eight
Standing outside of Trinity’s suite, directly across the hall from Dhane’s, gave me the heebie-jeebies. The hallway was eerily quiet and so still that I could clearly hear over the hammering of my heart the voice in my head screaming to get out. I thought about my dad. Not because I was scared and wanted my daddy, but because if he were here he’d tell me to suck it up and do what needed to be done. So I sucked it up as best I could.
Just as I lifted my hand to knock, Dhane’s door opened behind me, scaring a startled yelp out of me.
“Well if it isn’t Ms. Smith. Fancy meeting you in this hallway twice in the same day.”
Clutching my hands over my chest to prevent my heart from leaping out and running off down the hall for safety, I turned to find Detective Kennedy leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed like he’d been expecting me. He regarded me with glimmering verdant eyes, a smug smile playing around his mouth.
God I hated him.
I dropped my hands and rolled my eyes. “Don’t you have a crime to solve and an innocent person to release, or is it case closed? Time for coffee and donuts for you.”
I seemed to have amused him even more because his eyes bunched up at the outside corners. “You’re very good at the best-defense-is-a-good-offense strategy. Sure you’re not a lawyer?”
I stared hard at him, trying not to huff and roll my eyes. All I’d be missing then would be a firm stomp and a whine like a teenager who’d just been put on restriction. Why did this jerk bring out the worst in me?
“I hope you’re better at being a cop than a stand-up comedian,” I countered. Good. That was good. I sounded the right amount of annoyed and indifferent. “Shouldn’t you be out setting up surveillance or checking in with the crime lab or something?”
“Jesus. Everybody who’s ever watched an episode of CSI is suddenly an expert on police procedure.”
I balled my hands, hating the way he pushed my buttons. “You’re a tremendous ass, you know that?”
He put his hands up, palms out. “Easy, Ms. Smith. Wouldn’t want to have to take you in for police brutality.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, vibrating with anger. “Go away.”
“Sure thang, sweetheart. Just one pesky little question. What are you doing here…again?”
I folded my arms over my chest and shook my head.
“You always go about everything the hard way?” he asked.
A voice called to him from within Dhane’s suite, drawing his attention away from me. He told them just a minute, then returned his attention to me, running a hand through his hair. “I really don’t have time for this. As much as I’d like to stand here and exchange barbs with you all day, I do have a murder case to solve. So just tell me what you’re doing here so I can get on with it.”
I studied him closely, noticing for the first time the strain around his mouth. His tie had been pulled loose and hung off center, and his auburn hair wasn’t carelessly rumpled but disheveled from hands raking repeatedly through it. His eyes appeared a brighter green because of the tired redness around them. I imagined those eyes had seen more than their share of horrors and human depravity.
Inwardly, I sighed. Really, why was I arguing with him? I hitched a thumb over my shoulder. “I’m here to see Dhane’s sister.”
Kennedy’s brows climbed. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“And why would the, ah…recent acquaintance of her deceased brother be paying her a visit?”
Oh, crap. Yeah, why would she do that? I went with my earlier measure of truth tactic. “She asked me to.”
I’d surprised him even more. Good. I supposed it was wrong of me to enjoy it, but this day had held so much suckiness, it felt good to get something over on Old King Kennedy.
“Really?”
“Wow, you’re a real tough interrogator. If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment.” I started to turn away from him, but his voice brought me back around.
“Tell me why she asked to see you.” He shifted his stance, letting the door close behind him. “This ought to be good.” He folded his arms over his chest.
“Well…” Make something up. Make something up. Make something up quick! “She’s a friend of a friend of mine.” I licked my lips, trying not to look up to the left…or was it the right that gives away a lie? Jeez, I really did watch too much CSI.
“Uh-huh.” He did that regal head nod thing, inviting me to continue digging my hole.
“That’s it, really.”
He frowned. “I’m disappointed in you.”
“Look, what do you want from me? You’ve locked up my best friend for no good reason and now you’re wasting time chatting with me instead of looking for the real killer.”
“I’d say a full confession is a pretty good reason to lock up a suspect.”
“A what?” There was a sudden clanging in my head from a dozen warning bells. Tiny dots filled my vision and I swayed a little, blurring the dots. “What…what did you say?”
“Ah, Jesus. You’re not a fainter, are you? Here, sit down.” He made a move to grab ahold of my arm, but I jerked
away from him.
“You’re wrong. You must be wrong. Vivian would never…she couldn’t…you must have misunderstood.”
“This is a real shock for you.”
He reached for me again, but I batted his hand away. “I want to see her. You’re wrong. This is all wrong.” I turned my back on him and headed for the elevators. “I’ll talk to her. She always tells me the truth.”
But she hadn’t told me the truth about her and Dhane. I pulled up short. A sickness clenched my gut and I fisted a hand over it, pressing back against it. Confessed. No. No, no, no, no, no. That was not right.
“I need to see her.” I started forward again, but Kennedy’s words stopped me.
“You can’t. She’s in custody. The only person who can see her is her attorney. So unless you studied torts and crimes along with cuts and perms, you won’t get in to see her.”
That did it. I turned on him. “Look, you arrogant son of a bitch—”
“Ah, your color’s back. Thank Jesus. For a minute there I thought I’d have to deal with old Dave again. Sorry for the insult. But I don’t have time to deal with a fainter and you looked like you were going to keel over at any moment.”
“You’re crazy. You know that? You drop that bomb on me, then insult me. What’s wrong with you?” I wanted so badly to shed myself of him, I felt like I was suffocating. I brushed past him, purposefully knocking him back a step. I banged my fist on Trinity’s door. I could feel Kennedy’s eyes boring holes into the back of me.
The door swung open enough to reveal an Asian man who I assumed was Tenchi, but I really didn’t care. I walked in, seized the door from him, and took supreme pleasure in slamming it in Kennedy’s arrogant face. Then I brushed off my hands and turned to find a small group of people gawking at me.
As if they had a right to stare, garbed like rejects from a Clowns-R-Us catalog. Really, where did these people get their clothes?
“You must be Azalea,” the one who’d answered the door said.
“Yup. Ah, sorry. That guy is kind of a pain.”
“We know.” A tall, scarlet-haired woman uncoiled from the sofa. “I’m Sora.” She held out a hand and when I shook it, the phrase “wet noodle” popped into my head. I resisted the urge to wipe my hand on my jeans, but only narrowly.
