Billy miscalculated. I’m not sure if he equated the thing’s appearance with Corinne leaving or if he was protecting me, but he lunged, snapping.
The demon moved so quickly it was just a blur. A single swipe sent Billy airborne. He landed in a tiny snowdrift piled against a car tire. The demon gave a last sniff of the air and snorted. In a whoosh it was gone. I rushed to pull Billy out of the snow. He shook his head slowly, bemused, while I felt him all over. He licked my face, none the worse for his demon encounter.
“Were you protecting me?” I rubbed his ears, which were now like ice. He grunted happily, closing his eyes. “Ellie’s gonna have to get her kids their own dog. Any dog brave enough to tackle a demon is mine.”
I carried my dog inside.
Fierro was pouring tea into the blue willow cups. “You want milk or sugar?” When he saw my face, he set the kettle down. “What’s wrong?”
The tears came flooding back. I blinked furiously, but they spilled over, running down my cheeks.
Fierro was across the room in an instant or maybe I met him halfway, but he was warm and solid. He felt like a wall between me and the rest of the world, with his arms around me like that. “Corinne crossed over,” I said against his coat.
His hand smoothed my hair. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
I nodded and raised my face. “It’s the right thing. She’s safe now.”
“How about you? You okay?”
I swallowed hard. I couldn’t find my voice to say the things I was thinking. His hand touched my cheek. “I’m okay,” I whispered.
We were eye-to-eye. He smelled clean, like soap. “Letting go is hard sometimes.” His voice was husky.
“It helped her, you know. Knowing that you’re taking her case seriously, that you’re going to solve it. That’s really all she wanted. That and for Billy to be taken care of.”
His hand cupped my chin for a moment, then he released me, stepping back. “You’re keeping him?” Fierro cleared his throat and sat down at the table. Billy hopefully bumped his knee with Dingo. Fierro tossed it.
“He’s my dog. Now all I need is a place to live. I’m being evicted. They don’t allow pets here.”
“That’s dedication.”
“Not really. I used to love this place, but I think I’m buying a condo with my brother. New construction. No ghosts.”
“Owning is better than renting.”
“You own?”
“A little house in Queensland Estates.”
“That’s a nice neighborhood. Very trendy.”
He made a face. “I lived there before it was trendy. It was my parents’. When Dad died, Mom moved to Florida.”
I took a sip of the tea and wrinkled my nose. It had sat too long and was very strong. “Needs milk. You want anything?”
“Nah. I’m good.” He stood up. “That search warrant isn’t going to write itself. I’d better go before Tessler puts out an APB on me. Remember, if I can pull this off, you don’t know me.”
“Got it. And then after work I know you again and I need to do a statement.”
“See you tomorrow. Lock the door after me.”
“Jeez, Fierro. It’s not my first night in the city. Don’t you need me to call a cab or something?”
He raised his hand, showing me a cellphone. “I called for a black-and-white to give me a lift while you were outside. They’ll be here any minute.”
I stayed awake for a long time after Fierro left, unable to sleep. Billy didn’t suffer from the same problem, and I found his snoring strangely reassuring.
* * * *
Pretending not to know Tessler and Fierro was the weirdest thing I’ve done in a long time, which is saying something. There was a big hubbub, and Duncan rushed out of his office instructing everyone to lock their desks until the legal team arrived. Then he collected keys and sent everyone to the break room.
“What’s that all about?” Beth said.
Kelly shushed her. “He said no talking.”
“God, I need a cigarette right now.”
“It has to be about Ruth,” I said.
Kelley glared and moved to the next table, but Beth and Gayle scooted their chairs closer.
“What did you hear about it? I heard someone cut her head off and left it in the sink.” Gayle’s eyes were alight with excitement.
“Ghoul. Try not to look so happy.” Beth gave her a withering stare and adjusted her glasses. She glanced sideways at me. “Ruth told me that you knew Corinne.”
“Not that well.”
Tim and Tom and Ted or whatever the hell their names were wandered in looking confused. “What’s all this about? Why are the police here?”
“Because of Ruth,” Beth said. “Duh.”
We spent the entire morning in the break room. Finally, we were herded out like cattle into the hallways. Police crawled over the place. Duncan and a man in a blue suit– whom I took to be the lawyer because no one else would wear a suit that boring – stood over to one side. Duncan wrung his hands in distress as our desks were searched. The contents of Ruth’s desk were packed up and carried away under the watchful eye of the lawyer. Duncan kept yammering on about proprietary information.
“We aren’t interested in that sort of thing,” Fierro said patiently. “We’re looking for personal information. But yes, we will need to know what Ruth was working on.”
“She wasn’t working on anything. I told you. The girls aren’t assigned to any particular scientist or research assistant. I assign them work as needed. Beth is the receptionist.” Duncan worked himself into a tizzy.
“We’ll need to interview everyone separately,” Fierro said. His eyes swept down the line of ‘girls’, but skittered away from mine. I looked at my shoes to keep from making eye contact.
“You can’t think that anyone here is involved,” Duncan said.
“At this point we’re seeking information,” Fierro said. “That’s it for now.”
We were herded back into the break room. This time an officer stayed with us to keep everyone from talking.
It was a long, boring day. I couldn’t wait for it to be over so I could grill Fierro about the case.
The parking lot was jammed as everyone tried to rush out at the same time. Sitting in line, I finally took the time to check my voice mail.
“We need the black hearse back. One of the vans is in the shop. Call me.” That was from Harry.
“Portia, it’s Ethan. I’ll be finishing up my shift, and all I can think about is you. Dinner? Call me.”
“Yeah, this is Fierro. I got questions. You got answers. So call me already. You know you want to.”
Of all the presumptuous men in my life, Fierro had to take the prize. The line started moving.
The first call I placed that night wasn’t Harry or Ethan or Fierro. It was Ellie.
“I need your help,” I said. “I’ve got some objects I need you to read.”
“I’m busy right now,” she whispered. “PTO. Call me later. After eight, okay?”
I toyed with the idea of calling Fierro versus calling Ethan.
Hmm. Information or hot sexy doctor with food? I was hungry. And information could wait.
Chapter 16
I should have known better than to plan an evening. These things never work out for me. There was no hot sex. There wasn’t even any cold sex. Ethan sent me an urgent text that he was pulling a double shift, so I called him back and insisted I didn’t mind at all.
I’m getting better at lying.
The next message humbled me. “Portia? This is Susie Simpson. I was wondering if you had heard anything from the police. You seemed to know that detective. I’m supposed to fly out tomorrow. Do I get to leave?” She sounded shaky.
I had forgotten poor Susie. I called her and promised to find out the answer. I also promised a ride to the airport. She sweetly declined my offer of dinner. She wasn’t feeling so hungry, she said. I couldn’t blame her.
I should have called Mother
or Harry, but I chickened out. I didn’t want to talk about hearses, condos, or the events of the last twenty-four hours. At least not with them. Mother doesn’t find bloody bodies in the bathroom. She only sees embalmed and reconstructed corpses after the sisters have worked their magic.
So I called the newest number on my cell, which is why I was sitting in Mancuso’s Grill eating bruschetta with Fierro. It wasn’t the evening I had planned, but lately my life was nothing if not unpredictable.
“Why would Ruth have copies of a scientist’s notes? Is that normal?”
I stopped eating. “Copies? Like from the copy machine?”
“Did I stutter? Yeah, like pages were stuck on the copy machine. Handwritten notes and stuff like that. So is it normal for you guys to keep that sort of thing?”
“No, it isn’t. We transcribe notes sometimes, but mostly we do correspondence and stuff. From what I’ve seen, all the scientists are pretty protective of their work. I’ve never been asked to transcribe anything like that. Each scientist seems to have his ‘pet’ that he trusts to transcribe stuff. But Ruth is Duncan’s secretary. I can’t imagine why she would have something like that.”
“What exactly do they research?”
“Something about plants and plant growth. Farming stuff.”
“Is there big bucks in that?”
“Someone spends money on it. What are you thinking?”
He leaned forward conspiratorially. “I’m thinking industrial espionage.” He sat back. “How’s that for a motive?” He crammed the rest of his bruschetta in his mouth and chewed.
“You mean like spying?”
“I mean like maybe Ruth was selling secrets to a competitor. That would account for the money.”
“Then why kill her? Wouldn’t that make her more useful alive?”
“Not if she had passed on everything she could. Maybe she was about to blab. If this competitor took out Corinne, that could make Ruth wig out.”
“But why Corinne? You never met her. There’s no way she was involved in anything like that. That doesn’t make sense.”
“The medicated burrito probably wasn’t intended for her.”
I thought back. “Ruth knew about the burrito. I’m sure of it. She freaked when I started asking about the burritos in the fridge.”
Fierro started on another bruschetta. “So Ruth knew about it before or after the fact? Maybe she threatened to out someone. Blackmail might explain her sudden turn of fortunes.”
“Whose notes were they?”
“Don’t know yet, but I will. I don’t want to go waving that info around. Don’t mention it to anyone. I need someone who’ll recognize the handwriting, but I don’t know who to trust.” He looked at me hopefully.
“I don’t recognize that yet. Heck, I don’t even know which RA works with whom.”
“RA?”
“Research assistant. They all look alike and their names are Ted, Tom, Tim... Heck, I don’t know. They’re interchangeable as far as I’m concerned.”
“Who would you consider the most likely candidate for trust?”
I thought for a minute, chewing bread and drinking my Diet Coke. “Not one of the secretaries. And I don’t know the scientists and RAs at all. Maybe Duncan Werner.”
“That head secretary guy?”
“He knows everyone, and he’s been with the company a long time. I’d bet he’s loyal to them.”
“I’ll give him a shot.”
“Anything interesting in the apartment?”
“Do you really want to know?”
I shuddered. “No. Tell me anyway.”
“Ruth was stabbed multiple times. She bled to death. We think she was attacked and died right there in the bathroom. The place was definitely tossed, but this was no burglary. No electronics taken except her computer and her cellphone. There was a bunch of cash still hidden in the kitchen in a canister. But Ruth’s desk was cleaned out. There wasn’t even an address book left behind. No prints. Nothing useful that way. Everybody knows to wear gloves. Our killer couldn’t have gotten out without being bloody and there were some smears in Ruth’s bedroom, but not Corinne’s.”
“So what does that mean?”
“I’m thinking this way. Killer is in the house. He’s looking for something. He searches Corinne’s room. No luck. He’s in there when Ruth comes home. She goes into the bathroom to take a shower and puts on her robe. Killer surprises her in there. Stabs her. Ruth lies dying in the bathroom while he searches the rest of the house.”
“That’s horrible!”
“Did you think it wouldn’t be?”
My shoulders slumped. “I guess not. I haven’t been around anything like this before.”
“I should hope not.”
“So how did he get in?”
“No signs of forced entry. He probably had a key. If we’re talking about someone who knew Ruth or Corinne well, it might not be unreasonable to have made a copy or simply stolen a key.”
I cleared my throat. “There was a key under the stairwell. I used it to get in.” I explained about Corinne’s instructions.
“So anyone could have known this?”
“A lot of people hide a key.”
“Where is the key now?”
“I don’t remember.” An image came to mind. “Wait. Yes, I do. I left it on the entry table beside the front door. There’s a little tray there. I set it there and forgot to grab it on my way out.”
“I’ll see if CSSU collected it. You realize that you’ve probably destroyed any evidence by handling it.”
“Which I did on purpose because I knew that Ruth was dead inside.” I looked down at my plate. “I need cheesecake.”
“Where do you think she is?” Fierro said it so quietly I could barely hear him.
I knew whom he meant. “I don’t know. I’m sure Ruth was involved in Corinne’s murder.”
“So she’s in hell?”
“I’m the wrong one to ask.”
“I went to Mass.”
I set down my drink. “How was it?”
“Weird. I felt like a fraud. I haven’t been to church since Gracie died. I think I believe everything the priest was talking about, but I just wasn’t...into it. I can’t explain it.”
“I thought about praying,” I said. “But it felt strange. I couldn’t do it.”
“Yeah, this was like walking into a new school. Nobody noticed me, but I felt so exposed.”
“It was always easier with Harry.” I brightened. “That’s what you need.”
“I need a twin?”
“No, but you need a buddy. You need someone to go with you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You volunteering?”
“Well...maybe...”
“Because it sounded like you were volunteering.”
“Maybe I was. Sure. If you want to.” I placed both palms down on the table and exhaled. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“You act like I just talked you into robbing a bank.”
“Stage fright. I’ll do it.”
“Good.”
The silence was awkward. The waitress saved us by delivering piping hot parmesan-artichoke dip.
“Oh, I’m taking Susie Simpson to the airport tomorrow. If that’s okay, I mean.” I spooned some dip onto a plate.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I wanted to make sure she could leave town.”
He laughed. “Of course she can leave town. Why? You think the nice librarian from Omaha offed her niece’s roommate?”
“No, of course not.”
“Me, neither. Why on earth would you ask that?”
“I don’t know. Because that’s what they always say on TV. Don’t leave town.”
“She can go. You watch too much TV. What?”
I froze, my hand halfway to my lips with a chip. A blob of artichoke fell onto the table. There was something wrong in the room, something that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “Did it just get cold in here?”
/> “I don’t think so.” He looked around. “Maybe the door was open.”
“That must be it.” The cold reminded me of someone, and I knew just how to draw her out. “So, anything new in Starla’s case?”
Something blew through the room. Candles on the tables flickered. I looked around, but saw nothing.
“I’ve worked the neighborhood, but got a lot of nothing. When I get the chance, I’ll take another run at it. Shake up the husband again. See if he slips up. I don’t got a lot of time to spend on Starla seeing as no one thinks it’s murder yet. I’ve got two related murders on Corinne’s case. I’ve got help there.” He shoveled a chip in his mouth.
“Starla’s out of time,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s in play, unclaimed. Reclaimers could grab her any minute.”
It was a sobering thought. Fierro raised his beer. “To Starla.”
“To Starla,” I agreed. Clink.
“Don’t I feel all warm and fuzzy?”
I sipped my beer. “How long have you been there, Starla?”
“Long enough. So my case goes to shit while Corinne is so fucking important.”
“Stuff has been happening on Corinne’s case,” I said. “He’s been working on yours when he can.”
Fierro was sitting very still, cradling his beer. “I’m missing a vital part of the conversation here.”
“Fierro, meet Starla. Starla, meet Fierro.”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” he said to an empty chair.
“Wrong chair.” I pointed to the other side of the table. “Actually she isn’t in the chair. She’s sort of hovering over it.”
“Sorry. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still safe,” he said in Starla’s general direction.
“Fuck off, pig. Like you care.” The bread basket went flying off our table. I hadn’t even seen Starla move.
“Starla says it’s nice to meet you,” I said.
“Fuck you too, Portia.” The candle on our table went out.
Starla and I glared at one another. “Starla’s a little cheesed that her case isn’t getting as much attention right now as Corinne’s.”
“Damn straight,” she said.
The First Ghost Page 17
