by Carly Morgan
Someone buzzed the bell to her apartment.
She ran over to it. “Yes?”
“Miss Green? This is detective Morales of the New York City Police Department. My partner and I need to ask you a few questions. Mind if we come up?” Alarm shot down Katie’s spine. She’d been so focused on tracking down Birdy, she’d nearly forgotten Bentley had been murdered.
“Sure.” She quickly perused her apartment. Take-out boxes littered the coffee table. Pillows were everywhere. And some of Bird’s clothes and underthings littered the floor. Katie quickly picked up the clothes and shoved them in Birdy’s fantastically messy bedroom before closing her door. Then she grabbed the trash bin from under the sink and swiftly threw all the trash in it. Finally, she fixed the pillows.
She tucked the bin under the sink just as there was a knock. In the mirror to the left of the door, she checked her hair and her teeth. “Hello,” she said, opening the door.
Two men stood on the landing, looking very grim and professional. “Mind if we come in?”
“No. Sure.” Katie pushed the door back.
They came in, and immediately began looking around.
“I’m detective Morales,” said the man with dark hair and beard. He had a piercing stare that was somehow intimidating and comforting at the same time. “And this is detective Hughes.” The man he pointed to had a rat-like appearance, complete with a pointy face and beady eyes.
“How can I help you, officers?” Katie asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable. She was usually the one asking the questions, not the other way around. She indicated they sit on the couch while she slid onto the high back chair to the right of them. One of Bird’s bras was squished behind the pillow. She hoped they didn’t notice.
Detective Hughes pulled a small notepad from his pocket. “Did you know Bentley Nelson?”
“Of course. I was engaged to him.” Her voice came out flat. Exhaustion mixed with her roiling emotions, and she’d gone numb.
He wrote something in his notebook. “You said ‘was’. What happened?”
“We broke it off a little more than a month ago.” Katie said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. She was usually the one asking the questions, not the other way around.
“Do you mind if I ask why?” Detective Hughes continued.
She shrugged. “He wasn’t the man I thought he was.” She didn’t want to drag his name through the mud.
Detective Morales spoke next. “Where were you last night between eight and ten-thirty in the evening?”
“I was in Maui, at a bar called the Sly Mongoose, and then on a plane.”
The officers looked at each other before studying her.
“I see, and when did you get back?” Detective Hughes asked.
“I landed less than two hours ago,” she said, glancing at the clock to verify.
Detective Morales nodded. “I’m sure you have documentation to back that up.”
“I do. I can get my plane ticket right now, if you want.”
“That isn’t necessary, but hang on to it,” Detective Hughes said.
“And how long have you known Pamela Bird?” Detective Morales asked.
“I met her my freshman year of college and we’ve been friends ever since, so a little more than eight years.”
“Do you believe Pamela would kill someone?”
Worry for her best friend broke through the numbness surrounding Katie. “No way,” she said, glaring at detective Hughes.
“Do you know of anyone who would want Bentley Nelson dead?” Detective Morales asked next.
“No.” She shook her head as she spoke. “Mind if I ask a question?”
“Go ahead,” Detective Morales said, clasping his hands together.
“What happened to him?”
“Well, Miss Green, we found Mr. Nelson dead last night.”
Alarm shot through her. “I know that, but how did it happen, and where’s Bi—Pamela?”
“We can’t give more information about Mr. Nelson at this time. The investigation is ongoing,” detective Hughes said, his nose twitching like he smelled moldy cheese.
Detective Morales glanced at his partner, obviously irritated. To Katie, he said, “At the moment, Pamela is being held for questioning.”
Worry turned to panic. “You mean she’s in jail?” Katie knew the lingo and they were starting to make her mad.
“Yes,” he said, flatly.
“What? Why? I’m telling you she didn’t do anything. Birdy wouldn’t hurt a fly.” She stood, walking behind the chair and into the kitchen, pressing her hands to her head, trying to stay calm. She started to shake.
“Well, the evidence suggests otherwise, Miss. Green,” Detective Morales said.
“What evidence?” Katie asked, astounded.
“That isn’t information we are at liberty to discuss.”
Katie went back to her seat. “I need to see her.”
Detective Morales handed her a card. “She’s at the address listed on the bottom there.” He pointed. “I will tell you the case is pretty solid against her. I believe the DA has already decided to go for murder one. It should be quite the spectacle, considering who her family is.”
“I don’t care what evidence you have against her. It’s false,” she said grabbing the card. “Now, unless you have any more questions, I need to go see my friend.”
They stood slowly and Katie noticed they were visually searching the room. They wouldn’t be able to do more without a warrant.
“We’re done for the moment. Thank you for answering our questions,” Detective Morales said.
Katie held open the door and waited for the officers to leave. When they were gone she shut the door and fell to her knees, crying harder than she’d ever cried before. Amidst the tears, she offered a simple, heart-felt prayer. “Dear God, please help her.” She’d never felt so helpless in her entire life.
Chapter 13
The 13th Precinct was on 21st street. A rather unassuming building: tan brick divided by dirty windows, except for the top row, which were stained glass. It could’ve been an apartment building from its outside appearance. The only thing that distinguished it from its neighbors was the American flag hanging from a flagpole above the door.
A light wind blew and Katie pushed some stray hair off her face. She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to see Birdy behind bars. She pulled open the heavy plate-glass door and headed to the front desk.
A balding male police officer studied her from behind the desk. His head shone like a polished bowling ball, gleaming in the fluorescent lights. “I’m here to see Bird… I mean, Pamela Bird.”
The officer’s bloodshot eyes gave Katie a once over. “Name?”
“Katie Green.”
“I.D.?”
She handed him all her pertinent information.
“Great. It’ll be just a moment. Wait right here.”
“Okay.”
While she waited she searched the front lobby. Plastic chairs were placed in rows. Morning sunlight shone through the old stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns against the walls and floor.
A few people milled about, including a man in a trapper hat. He drank from the water fountain, slurping like he hadn’t had a drink in weeks. One of the flaps on his hat was missing, exposing his dirty ear. His tan coat was covered in stains, as were his pants. On his feet were slippers instead of shoes. When he’d had his fill, he shuffled over to a seat, the slippers’ plastic soles dragging against the concrete floor, making a swish-swish sound.
“You can go in now, ma’am. The inmate is waiting for you,” the police officer said.
“Thank you.” Katie walked through the door he held open for her. Another set of officers waited on the other side.
“Name,” a woman said when she reached the desk.
“Katie Green.”
The officer nodded. “Very good. Walk down the hall. Pamela Bird is behind the last door on the right. Do not try to enter any other d
oors, otherwise Butch here,” she paused and pointed at a big, burly man and continued, “will take serious issue with you.”
“You said the last door on the right, correct?” Katie verified after swallowing. She didn’t want Butch to have an issue with her.
“You got it.” The woman smiled knowingly and Katie guessed she wasn’t the first person Butch had intimidated.
Katie pulled her navy jacket tight around her and walked down the hall. When she reached the last door, she opened it. The room was six feet by six feet, split in half by thick glass. Several holes had been drilled into it. Katie guessed they were for communication.
“Katie!” Birdy said when she saw her. “Thank goodness. I’m so happy to see you.” She pressed her body against the glass.
“Hey, Birdy.” Katie came over. “How you holding up?” Katie noticed her hair was a mess and her makeup was smeared.
“Everything smells like vomit, cleaning products, and too much crime,” Birdy said, sitting huffily in a plastic chair. Her shoulders were slumped and she looked exhausted. “How’d you get here so fast?”
“I took the last flight out.” Katie crossed her legs, feeling the effects of the long flight and no food, but she tried to hide them.
Tears leaked onto Birdy’s cheeks. “I didn’t do it, Kiki. You know that, right?”
Katie leaned forward. “Of course I do.” She placed her hand on the glass over Birdy’s.
“Kay,” she cried. “Good.” Birdy’s voice didn’t have the rich confidence Katie was used to and it made her sad. So, so sad.
“It’s okay, seriously. Your dad told me he was handling everything. I assume that means he’s sending someone to get you out.”
Bird snorted. “Sending someone because of course he can’t come himself.”
“Will you start from the beginning and tell me what happened?” Katie picked at a nonexistent hangnail, slipping back into somewhat familiar territory. At least she knew what questions to ask.
Birdy leaned forward and crossed her arms. “I got a text—”
Before she could get too far, the door opened. Katie had an immediate worry about Butch. But her fear became shock when a GQ model filled the doorway. He had super-short brown hair, tanned skin, and hazel eyes. Separately, his features seemed mundane, but together they were devastating in their faultlessness and symmetry. His jacket fit perfectly, his shoulders were broad, and he had a tapered waist.
“Wow, talk about eye candy,” Birdy said under her breath.
He rolled his eyes.
Katie smiled, thinking her best friend wasn’t wrong. But ever since Maui, Katie couldn’t think of another man. For her, there was only Max.
“My name is Ares Devereux,” he said seriously. His gaze was directed at Birdy as he came in and closed the door. “Your father asked me to come and talk to you.”
“See,” Katie said, glancing at Birdy.
Ares flicked her eyes toward Katie, but only briefly.
Birdy stood and leaned into the glass. “Mr. Devereux, I believe we met once at the annual Christmas party.” She smiled. “And you don’t need to sugarcoat it. My father couldn’t care less about my current situation, except to ensure it embarrasses him as little as possible. He pawned my case off onto you.” She dropped back into her seat.
“Your father cares,” he said, looking taken aback. “He’s just busy. And, yes, we did meet. I remember the Christmas party.”
“Yeah, and Daddy Dearest speaks so highly of you.” She laced her fingers behind her head.
He moved closer, looking at Birdy. “You’ve recently graduated from Harvard Law School, correct?”
“So did I,” Katie said. “So you better watch yourself. I know my stuff.” Even she thought she sounded stupid.
Ares took in the small room, including the fact that there was only one chair, which Katie occupied and had no intention of giving up. The door opened again. This time it was Butch. Katie’s heart raced.
“Brought you a chair, Mr. Devereux.”
“I appreciate it.” Ares took the chair and placed it next to Katie’s. He set his briefcase on the tiny table in front of them. The clasps snapped open.
“Have you filed a motion to get me out of here? Orange is not my color.” Birdy scowled at her black dress. “Also, I could use a shower.”
Ares pulled a file from his briefcase and clicked open a pen. “Do you wish Ms. Green to stay while we get down to business?”
“Yes, of course. Katie can stay.”
“Then let’s begin.” His features were unreadable.
Katie faced Birdy. She’d been about to tell Katie what happened before Ares came in.
“Walk me through the events,” Ares said.
Birdy gave Katie a quick glance. “Bentley texted me about nine thirty, asking if I could come over.” She didn’t look at Katie or Ares as she spoke, instead focusing on her nails. Katie noticed she had a French manicure, but one nail had been broken and Birdy picked at it while she talked.
It was obvious Birdy was worried Katie would be upset about her visiting Bentley. Katie wasn’t upset, just curious about why. Birdy had made it perfectly clear she didn’t like Bentley, so why would he be texting her? And why would she go?
“What did Bentley want?” Ares asked.
“He said he wanted to talk about Katie. I agreed because I intended to tell him to leave Katie alone.” She gave Katie a pointed look.
“What time did you arrive at Mr. Nelson’s apartment?” Ares didn’t look up, just continued to take notes on his yellow notepad.
“It was around ten fifteen. I know because I got a text from my mom reminding me of our Botox appointment the next morning.”
Ares shook his head as though disgusted. Katie felt her patience wane. Birdy was her best friend. And while her life was difficult for most people to understand, Birdy was a good person. Actually, she was great. Ares would be lucky to know someone as awesome as Birdy. “What’s your problem?” Katie asked sharply.
“It’s okay,” Birdy said, though Katie could see her feelings were hurt. Birdy didn’t want to get Botox. Katie knew that, but it was the one way Birdy and her mom bonded, and Birdy took what she could get.
“No, it isn’t. You need to show some respect for your client,” Katie said, glaring at Ares.
“Look, I respect Pamela. But what I don’t have is enough information to get her out of jail. That’s my job. That’s what her father is paying me to do.”
Katie huffed, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.
Birdy sighed. “Do you think my mom even knows I’m in jail?” She ran her hands through her short hair.
“Highly unlikely,” Katie said with a snort.
“True. It isn’t noon yet.”
“Right,” Katie added. “Rabid zombies couldn’t wake her this early.”
“She sleeps deader than the dead.” Birdy laughed roughly and then started to cry. “I want to get out of here.”
“I know, Bird. I know.” Katie contemplated Ares. “Have you filed the motion—”
“Katie, I’ve done everything that can be done. I’m really good at being a lawyer. It’s why I was given this case. Birdy’s arraignment is scheduled for first thing tomorrow morning. She’ll need a change of clothes,” he said, giving Birdy a once over.
Birdy noticed and smoothed down the front of her dress, not that it did any good. “Katie, will you bring me my cherry red Christian Dior suit with the white top and my matching red pumps?”
“You might want something more subtle. You are being charged with murder. Red might seem… insensitive,” Ares said.
“I agree,” Katie added.
Birdy curled herself into a ball. “I don’t know what to do.” She rocked back and forth.
It was a side of her friend Katie hadn’t seen before. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s all right,” Katie said, trying to calm Birdy. “I’ll bring your gray suit, same white shirt, and the black Prada heels.” Katie raised an eyebrow at Ares. �
�Better?”
“Much.” He didn’t seem fazed by Birdy or her theatrics. “Pamela, when you arrived at the house, was Bentley alive?”
Katie clasped her hands together, waiting breathlessly for Birdy’s answer. Had Bentley been alive?
“He was alive. I swear, Kiki.” Tears fell from her eyes, making tracks through her smeared mascara.
Katie regarded Birdy, searching for flaws in the story, but didn’t see any, as expected.
Ares nodded. “What happened next?”
Birdy gave Katie another strange look as she cleared her throat. “When I got inside his apartment, Bentley called me into his bedroom.”
Katie’s heart began to race. Had Birdy and Bentley been closer than Katie realized? She couldn’t believe that was true.
“I set my purse on the kitchen counter. His bedroom door was open. I saw him sitting on the edge of his bed. He was crying.” Her voice trailed off.
“So, you went in? Did you talk?”
“He tried to kiss me,” she whispered.
Katie gasped. She didn’t mean to.
“I didn’t kiss him back, Katie. I swear.” She gave Katie a pleading look, one that demanded she believe her. “I told him nothing was going to happen between us. Ever.” Birdy shuddered.
“It’s okay, Bird.” Katie didn’t want her friend to feel like she couldn’t tell the truth. Katie had seen his nastiness first-hand.
Ares nodded to Birdy. “Please continue. You didn’t kiss him back. Then what?”
“He apologized and asked me to sit by him on his bed, promising he would keep his hands to himself.
Katie rolled her eyes.
“Exactly,” Birdy said, pressing her hand against the glass. “Trust me. I’ve known Bentley long enough to get what kind of man he was. I didn’t do anything wrong.” She watched Katie as she spoke.
“I believe you, Bird. Keep going.”
Ares gave Katie a pointed look. His features softened for the first time since he arrived. “Then what, Pam,” he said.
“It’s Birdy. Please don’t call me Pam or Pamela. I don’t like it.”
He nodded. “Fine, Miss Birdy.” He put down his pen, interlocking his fingers. “Continue.”
“We talked for a long time until I excused myself to the bathroom.”
