by Jennie Marts
Zoey let out a rush of air. “Oh, thank God.” An expression of confusion crossed her face. “Then who is this?”
Mac pulled back the tarp to reveal just who the officer described. Male in his late forties, balding, stocky. He wore a leather bomber jacket and looked like he’d stepped out of the cast of the Sopranos. Dried blood caked along the side of his forehead where he’d suffered a blow to the head and crimson blood pooled around a torn hole in the fabric of his shirt.
He looked toward her. “Do you recognize him?”
Zoey shook her head. “No, I’ve never seen that man before.”
Mac noticed the way her hands had started to shake and dropped the tarp back over the body. He looked at the other cop. “Sorry. She doesn’t know him.”
He shrugged. “Oh well, the guys from the crime scene lab will be here any minute, and we’re waiting on the Medical Examiner.”
“Well, I’m no ME, but I’d hazard a guess that the cause of death was the single gunshot wound in his chest.”
The other cop grinned. “That’s a possibility.” He nodded at Zoey who had headed down the hallway. “Hey, you better get your girlfriend. This is still a crime scene, and I don’t want her messing up any evidence.”
Shit. He was right. Zoey’s apartment was now the scene of a murder, and he guessed the first person they were going to look at was the owner of the apartment.
He strode down the hall after her. After his girlfriend. Ha. He hadn’t used the term ‘girlfriend’ in years.
So what was Zoey? Dating material? A friend with possible benefits? A potential love interest? Ugh. Those were all worse than girlfriend.
The hallway led to a bathroom with two bedrooms off to either side. He followed Zoey as she ducked into the room on the left.
Entering the room, the first thing he saw was the blood-covered comforter. Holy hell. It looked like someone had been murdered in here too. Zoey lay on the floor by the bed. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Oh yeah, I just—um—tripped when I came in here.”
He narrowed his eyes as he saw her draw her hand back from under the bed skirt and slip her phone into her pants pocket. “You do know that I’m a detective, right? We’re trained to be observant and to know when someone’s lying.”
She pushed up off the floor and sighed. “All I want is my phone. I’m sure no one even knows it’s in here.”
Mac cocked an eyebrow at her then relented. “Fine. That guy was killed by a gunshot to the chest and had blunt force trauma to the head. I’m pretty sure your cell phone isn’t the murder weapon.” He looked around at the immaculately kept bedroom, trying to imagine Zoey’s life here. “Besides, they don’t need the actual phone to pull all of the records anyway.”
“Pull the records? Why would they do that?”
Seriously? “Zoey, you’re in a bit of trouble here. There’s a dead guy in your apartment, and your bed is soaked in blood. I’d say that makes you a strong suspect in his murder.”
She gasped. “A suspect? I didn’t kill that man. I don’t even kill spiders. And I don’t even know who that guy is.”
“Regardless of your humanity to spiders, at the very least, the Denver PD is going to view you as a person of interest. We’re going to need to go down to the station so you can fill out a report.”
“What? I can’t go now. We have to find Teddy. We don’t know what happened to him. If he’s still even alive. We have to at least go to his house and see if he’s okay.”
She took his hand and looked up at him. “Mac, please. I’ll go down to the police station. I’ll answer whatever questions they want. But first, I need to check on Teddy. Will you take me to his house? Please?”
Damn. A guy could get lost in those blue eyes. And he was seriously losing his way.
The increased noise in the front of the apartment signaled that more law enforcement had arrived. If they were going to get out of here, they needed to do it now, before it was too late.
He shook his head and gestured to the window. “All right. We’ll go check on Teddy. I’d feel terrible if the guy died. But then we’re going down to the police station.”
“Thank you. Thank you.” She hurried to the window and raised the sash then climbed through like she’d done earlier that night. It was still dark and so far, the alley behind her apartment was deserted.
Mac climbed out the window and slid it closed behind him. For just a moment, he questioned his decision before he followed her down the fire escape and through the alley. They hurried to where he’d left the car, and he unlocked and opened the door for her.
He could see more people had arrived, including the press, and he was glad they’d parked a few blocks away. He slid the car into gear and pulled a U-turn in the street. “Okay, so where does this Teddy Grimes live?”
Zoey pulled out her phone and read him the address from her contacts. “It’s only about ten minutes from here. I gave him a ride home once when his car was in the shop.”
He focused on her directions, willing his lips to stay shut. Had she only given him a ride home? How close was she to this coworker? No. He did not need to know.
It was none of his business. “So, you and this Teddy guy? Were you always just coworkers—er—I mean, friends?”
Zoey laughed. He liked the sound of her laugh. Liked it way too much.
She tilted her head at him. “Why do you ask? Are you jealous?”
“No. What? I was just asking for the purpose of the investigation. It’s none of my business who you want to date. Or not date. Or whatever.”
Wow. Really smooth.
“Teddy and I are just friends. When I first started working there, he may have asked me out for coffee a couple of times, but I’m sure it was only to be nice. He’s a sweet guy. But there’s never been any romantic interest there.”
“At least on your part.”
“On any part, as far as I’m concerned.”
Good. As much as he hated the jealous little streak that was running through him, he really didn’t want anyone else interested in any of her parts.
“Look, Teddy’s a nice guy. He’s only ever been good to me. And I trust him. Instead of going straight to a hospital, he tried to protect me. And he may have the evidence to back up my testimony against the Cavelli brothers in this money-laundering scheme.”
They turned into a suburban neighborhood of small cookie cutter houses. Well-kept lawns and varying shades of taupe houses lined the street, the homes distinguished only by their trim color or front porch design.
Zoey pointed. “There, that’s his. The one with the Denver Bronco flag.”
At least the guy had good taste in football teams.
They pulled up in front of the house, and Zoey had her door open before he’d even stopped the car. He turned off the engine and raced to catch up with her. “Zoey, slow down. You don’t know what—or who—we’re going to find here.”
The place looked quiet, no car in the driveway and no lights on in the house. The porch light glowed softly and everything looked tidy in the living room visible through the front windows of the house.
Part of him hoped this was all a mistake. That they’d knock on the door and a grumpy guy in boxers would answer and say that he was fine.
But the dead guy currently inhabiting Zoey’s apartment made him think they weren’t going to be so lucky.
Zoey rang the doorbell then knocked on the door. “Teddy? Are you okay?”
The door budged open an inch when she’d knocked on it, and she looked up at him in fright.
An unlocked open door was never a good sign.
He put out his arm and gently moved her behind him. Taking his gun from the holster, he carefully pushed open the door, his senses on alert for any indication of danger.
They stepped slowly into the living room. Everything seemed normal.
Crossing the room, Mac could see a light on above the sink in the kitchen and a family room to the right. This seemed to be the room
most lived in. A big recliner and a comfortable sofa turned toward a big screen television on the wall. Shelves on either side of the TV were lined with video games, controllers, and stacks of DVDs.
In the dim light from the kitchen, he could see overturned furniture and a smashed gaming system on the floor. A red smear of blood stained the tan carpet.
Definite signs of a struggle.
He pressed Zoey against the kitchen wall. “Stay here. I’m gonna check out the rest of the house,” he whispered. “Yell if you see anything.”
She nodded, her eyes wide with fright.
He quickly checked out the upstairs. A bathroom, office, and bedroom were on the upper level and all were empty. The bed was a mess of sheets and blankets, but that could be the way it looked all the time.
“I don’t think anyone’s here,” he said, coming down the stairs.
Zoey hadn’t moved. She stood in the same spot and let out a breath as Mac stepped into the room.
He pointed at the door off the kitchen. “That’s probably the garage. I’ll check it out, but the place seems empty.”
A scratching sound followed by a soft keening came from the direction of the door.
Mac raised his gun and motioned for her to be quiet.
Obviously the place wasn’t completely empty.
Chapter Three
A chill raced up Zoey’s back as another frantic scratching noise sounded.
Could it be Teddy?
Could he be lying on the floor on the other side of the door, too weak to do anything but scratch at the door? Maybe he’d heard them and was trying to signal for help.
Mac approached the door, his gun held up, his body alert for any sign of danger. As nervous as this situation made her, she still couldn’t help the sensations that ran through her as she watched his muscled physique tense and flex. Lord, he was good looking.
Everything about him appealed to her. She liked his neat appearance, his clean-shaven head, his quick precise movements. She liked things neat and tidy, organized, and Mac seemed to share that sense of precision.
He reached for the door then slowly turned the knob. She held her breath, praying that it was Teddy, and he was okay.
Mac yanked the door open, and a big ball of white fluff raced into the room, yapping and crying as it beelined for Zoey’s legs.
“Oh no. Poor thing.” She reached down and lifted a small white poodle into her arms. A pink ribbon hung limply from its forehead, and the dog was trembling as it pawed at her chest trying to get close enough to her face to lick her cheek.
Mac disappeared into the garage. She tentatively crossed the room to follow him.
Maybe this little dog was trying to signal them that Teddy was in the garage. It didn’t look much like Lassie but its frantic yips could mean ‘Help, Timmy fell in the well’ or ‘Help, Teddy’s bleeding out on the garage floor.”
Poking her head around the door, she peered into the garage.
No Teddy.
The garage was actually fairly empty. A deep freeze hummed in one corner, and a mountain bike leaned against the wall. A few storage boxes were stacked along one side of the room, and a small workbench filled the back wall.
She clutched the poodle to her chest. “Check the freezer.”
Mac raised an eyebrow. “For what? Are you suddenly hungry for ice cream?”
“No.” She lowered her voice and glanced around the empty room. “For a body. On TV, they’re always hiding the body in the freezer.” Why was she whispering?
Mac sighed and opened the freezer door. Stacks of pizzas and frozen dinners covered the shelves. “No body.”
Zoey let out her breath. Thank goodness. “Then where the heck is Teddy? Do you think those men took him?”
“If so, it would only be man, singular. If you were right about there being two men breaking in to your apartment, one of them never left.” Mac crossed the garage and led her back in to the kitchen.
“What do you think they’ll do to him?” Her voice trembled, and tears threatened as she thought about Teddy risking his life to protect her.
“Hey, now. None of that.” Mac reached a hand up and laid it gently on her arm. “We don’t know what happened. For all we know, Teddy may have escaped and gotten himself to a doctor. When we get to the station, I’ll check in with the local hospitals and see if they had any stabbing victims admitted tonight.”
She nodded, trying to put on a brave face. And ignore the sudden warmth that filled her at the touch of Mac’s hand on the bare skin of her upper arm.
He touched the paw of the dog, and its pink tongue snuck a quick lick of his finger. “What’s the story with this little guy? Did you know Teddy had a dog?”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting this dog. Teddy talks about his dog, Bruiser, all the time. But I always imagined it as a pit bull or a mastiff, something big and hairy like him. The kind of dog that drools and tears up your garbage. This dog looks like it gets pedicures.”
Mac lifted the pink crystal-ringed tag from around the dog’s neck and grinned. “This tag says Bruiser, so this must be his dog.” He ducked his head to look under the dog’s body. “But he’s actually a she.”
Zoey cuddled the dog under her chin. “Hey, Bruiser. You’re a good girl. I wish you could tell us what happened here. And what happened to Teddy.”
“I wish she could too.” Mac surveyed the disheveled living room. “The destruction in this room corroborates your coworker’s story about someone breaking in and him fighting them off.” He toed the edge of the smashed Xbox laying near the smear of blood on the carpet. “Try not to touch anything. I’m going to have to call in this scene as well.”
“I haven’t touched anything.” But she’d certainly thought about touching a few things. A few of his things. Funny tinglies ran through her when he said the word ‘touch’, and she tried to focus on the situation at hand. She needed to find her friend and figure out who the dead guy was in her apartment.
“That’s good. I’m sorry we didn’t find your coworker.” He took another look around the room. “I don’t think there’s anything left to find here. We should head over to the police station. Somebody’s probably going to be pretty pissed off that we left the scene earlier. The only way I’m going to save any grace if I get you over there now.”
She looked around the kitchen. “Okay. I just want to find this little girl’s food and her dishes.”
“Good idea. We should grab some of her food so she’ll have what she’s used to at the shelter. We can drop her off at the Humane Society on our way to the station. They’ll take care of her until Teddy’s found.”
She gasped. “I’m not leaving her at a shelter. Who knows when Teddy will get back?” Or if he’ll get back.
Stop it. Don’t even think like that.
“I’m bringing her with me. I’ll get Gram to help me take care of her until we know what happened to Teddy.” She peered into the open door that she assumed was a pantry and spied two small dog dishes on the floor. Bingo.
“You’re just going to take the guy’s dog?”
A bag of dog chow sat on the pantry shelf, and she grabbed both the bag of food and the dog dishes. A quick glance at the rest of the pantry told her that Teddy ate a lot of chips and Pasta Roni.
She passed the bag to Mac. “Look around. I can’t leave her here.”
He held his hands up in surrender before taking the bag of food and crossing to the front door. “He’s your friend. I just want to go on record that I had nothing to do with this dog-napping.”
“We’re not dog-napping her. You make it sound like I’m concocting a note demanding a ransom for Bruiser, the fluffy French poodle. I’m just taking care of her until we find Teddy.” She found a scrap of paper and a pen in a drawer and scribbled a quick note that simply read, “I have Bruiser—Z”. A little cryptic but hopefully wouldn’t give too much information if someone else saw the note.
She stuck it to the refrigerator with a magnet shaped like a fo
otball helmet. Then she sent up another quick prayer that Teddy was okay, pulled the front door closed behind her and followed Mac to his car.
He put the dog food into the back seat then held the door for her while she got situated in the front. She put on her seatbelt, and the dog settled in her lap while Mac walked around the car and slid into the driver’s seat.
“I’ll call in to dispatch and see which precinct we need to go to,” he told her as he started the engine.
“I’ll call Gram and let her know what’s going on.”
“Good idea. I’m surprised she’s not already down here. I’ll bet she’s already heard about the murder. That woman seems to know everything. I have a feeling when she hears, she’ll race right down to see if she can offer the CSI guys any tips.”
Zoey laughed. “You’re probably right.” She dialed Edna’s number and filled her in on the events of the morning.
“I’d already heard about the murder. And I’m coming down there. I just saw this new thing on CSI that helps—”
“You don’t have to come down here, Gram. I’m sure the Denver PD have it all handled. Besides, we’re not going back to my apartment. I have to go down to the police station to give them a statement.”
“I figured that. I’m already one step ahead of you and have been arranging for a good lawyer to help you out. I’ve already called Maggie, and she’s on her way over here to pick me up. We’ll meet you down there in a half hour.”
Maggie Hayes was a member of her grandmother’s book club, the Pleasant Valley Page Turners. That summer the Page Turners had found themselves in quite a few messes that had required Tasers, lawyers, and the police to help clean up.
Zoey’s wasn’t the first dead body that they’d encountered that summer.
Ugh. Why was she thinking of it as her dead body?
“Thank you, Gram. But I really don’t think I’m going to need a lawyer. I’m just going to give them a statement.”
“Of course you’re going to need a lawyer. Don’t you watch television at all? Honey, a dead body was just found in your apartment. That makes you the number one suspect. The police aren’t just going to ask you a few questions. They are going to try to determine if you murdered this guy and if they should arrest you for it.”
