by Judi McCoy
After arriving at her apartment, she took Rudy and Mr. T for a quick out, nuked a Lean Cuisine for dinner, and sat at her computer. The nagging questions wouldn’t let go of her brain. Who, she continued to ask herself, was so despicable they’d kill a soft-spoken man like Gary? Had he gotten involved in something illegal and was made to pay the price?
Either way, his death was a dismal reminder of the frailty of life. If he had no relatives, she planned to claim the body and see to it Gary had a proper good-bye. But for now, there was only one thing she could think of to do: tackle his past on the Internet while Rudy slept like a baby on the sofa.
An hour later, her worries paled in comparison to what she’d found out about her deceased friend. She’d read the details of his life in newspaper articles from decades ago, and unearthed a dark but fascinating story so disturbing it was worthy of a television movie on the Lifetime network.
Garick Robert Veridot, son of Robert and Sylvia Veridot, now deceased, was fifteen when his older brother, Thompson, had been sentenced to prison for shooting their parents in a drunken and drug-induced rage.
Gary, the sole witness to the killing, had testified for the prosecution at his brother’s trial. The brother was convicted, and Gary was sent to live with a grandmother who died just after his eighteenth birthday. A short while later he disappeared, and even the most diligent thrill seekers and tabloid reporters lost his trail.
She teared up when she read the stories centering on a gentle yet intelligent kid too sensitive to adapt to city life alone. His nasty brother was ten years his senior, and he’d become a drug addict soon after puberty. Their wealthy parents had sent the older boy to treatment centers, as they were called back then, and, in the end, were forced to resort to their version of tough love.
An incensed Thompson had discovered their plan to disinherit him and offered to disappear if they gave him his share of the family fortune. When his parents refused, he’d blown them away with his father’s gun while his brother looked on in terror.
According to the last story, Thompson had been given the fairly light sentence of thirty years as a result of diminished capacity. The state hadn’t been able to prove premeditation because he hadn’t brought a weapon to the scene, and his clever attorney had convinced the jury that Thompson was so hopped up on drugs he wasn’t responsible for his actions.
Ellie guessed at the rest of the tale while she drank a cup of brandy-laced decaf. Poor Gary had lost a mother, father, grandmother, and brother in the space of three years. Completely alone in the world, he’d probably suffered a form of post-traumatic stress disorder, though at the time the condition didn’t go by that name, and chose to hide from anyone who knew of his tragic past.
She bit her lip every time she thought of the gentle, quiet soul who’d lived a hermit-like existence instead of coping with reality, all because of his brutal older brother. She recalled the day he’d seen a group of young men across the street from hers and Rudy’s usual park bench, and taken off as if he’d been running a race. Whenever he spotted someone he thought looked suspicious, he’d felt threatened and acted as if the entire world was after him. It was obvious now that he didn’t want to be found, nor did he want to deal with real life when his own had wound up badly.
She was so engrossed in Gary’s story, she jumped a foot when she heard the knock. Vivian, she thought, ready for their walk. She went to the door and opened it to her best friend, wearing black spandex biking shorts and a sleeveless, hot pink shirt. Her mile-long legs led to a pair of stylish running shoes.
“Hey, you ready?” Viv asked, perky as ever.
“In a second. Just let me hook up the big guy.” Squatting, Ellie frowned at her faded denims and sweat-stained T-shirt, then gave herself a mental pep talk. She walked dogs; these were her work clothes. Viv received all the male attention when they were out anyway, so why should she change?
By the time they arrived on the front porch, Ellie was in the midst of filling Viv in on all that had gone down.
“I told you it wasn’t safe to be around that guy.” Her friend waited while Mr. T watered the side of a building. “Just think what might have happened if you’d been at his shelter when the killer paid him a visit.”
“I still can’t believe someone murdered such a nice guy.”
“The unbelievable thing is the cops think you might have done it.”
“After dealing with Gruning, there isn’t a doubt in my mind I’m number one on his suspect list. Remember how suspicious the cops were when the professor died? Well, triple their interest in me for this case.”
“Good thing Sam was smart enough to know you were innocent once he started investigating Albright’s death for real. And speaking of Sam—”
“Leave him out of this.”
“But the dreamy detective spent the night.” Viv grinned. “Think of the opportunity you blew by remanding him to the guest bedroom.”
“Maybe so, but I had no intention of encouraging hanky-panky.” Viv didn’t need to hear about hers and Sam’s heated exchange in the kitchen. “Not ever again.”
“Okay, we’ll drop the hottie discussion for now and get back to Gary. The man was a nutcase, a beggar. What reason do the police give for thinking you shot him?”
“I was the one who found the body. Seems that’s a red flag to the cops. I think the only reason I haven’t been arrested is because they haven’t found the murder weapon. Once they do—”
“That still won’t be enough to assume you’re guilty. Who in their right mind would kill for a bunch of junk from a homeless person’s makeshift shelter? If it were mine, I’d take it all to the nearest Dumpster.”
“It’s not the junk in the shelter that has me worried. When Gruning learns there’s a safety-deposit box involved, and it could contain something of value, I’m toast.”
“I hate to keep repeating myself, but what makes you think there’ll be anything worthwhile in that box? Gary had nothing.” They hit Third Avenue and headed east toward York. “And remember, they need a murder weapon.”
Ellie frowned. “I read a short article in today’s paper, and there was no mention of them finding one. There was also no gunpowder residue on my hands—a point in my favor, I might add.”
“Whoa. Now you’re creeping me out, talking like one of those television cops. Either you’ve started watching CSI or you’ve switched from reading romance to true crime.”
“Neither, but I have learned to keep my eyes and ears open when I’m in the precinct. If you pay attention, it’s easy to figure out what’s going on.”
“Sounds to me like they’re fishing. You know, giving subtle hints and hoping you’ll incriminate yourself.”
“Gruning can fish all he wants—this pond is empty.”
They hit York and turned left to get to Eighty-sixth. On the way, she told Vivian about Gary’s past and his incarcerated brother, ending with, “Next time I feel like having my own private pity party, I’ll put myself in Gary’s shoes.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a story that sad,” Viv stated. “It would make a great ‘movie of the week.’ ”
“Now that he’s gone, some greedy journalist at one of those gossip tabloids will probably find a way to exploit him all over again. No wonder he went into hiding.”
“Not to belabor the point, but what did Sam have to say about Gary’s past?”
“I didn’t find any of the info out until tonight, but I’m sure Sam knows by now. The stories I read on the Internet explain what Gruning meant when he said Gary’s prints were on file.” She stopped to let Rudy nose a trash can. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle things on my own.”
“Hang on a second. This sounds like another Professor Albright situation. Don’t tell me you’re going to play Nancy Drew again.”
“Finding out who killed Gary is an idea.”
“Ryder is going to lock you up and throw away the key.”
“Sam has no right to an opinion on anything I do. It’s n
ot his case, and since he left me hanging a couple of months back, I don’t owe him any explanations.”
“That might be the way you see it, but I bet he’s going to have a different view.”
“Well, good for him.”
“Hey, don’t get angry with me. Just be careful.”
“I know how to take care of myself.”
“Great. I can see the shingle hanging outside our building now. ‘Ellie Engleman, Detective-in-Training.’ ”
“I have a right to some answers, especially if the police try to pin Gary’s murder on me.” She brushed a curl from her forehead. “The man was my friend, and a truly nice guy. I want to find the person who did this as much as the cops.”
“I’m sure Groaning—”
“That’s Gruning.”
“Whatever. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear it.”
“Stop being a pain. Besides Gary, I have a lot on my mind. I’ve got so many new customers, I need an assistant. I’m thinking of running an ad.”
“Why don’t you ask around first, or hang a flyer on a couple of the university bulletin boards? A college kid would work for less than a professional, and they usually need the money.”
“I guess I could do that on Monday. I’ll have time between rounds. But I still have to get to that bank.”
“I’d go with you, but I have meetings scheduled for the entire day.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll let you know what I find, and what’s happening with Gruning. I swear, I’ve never met anyone more obnoxious. He has a partner named Smith, but I don’t know a thing about him.”
“First Ryder, then Gruning and Smith,” Viv said with a giggle. “Before you know it, you’ll be on a last-name basis with every detective in Manhattan.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “It’s bad enough Georgette’s going to have a conniption when she finds out I’m involved in another murder. Between my career as a pooper scooper and my penchant for finding dead bodies, I’m her cross to bear.”
“How are she and the judge doing?”
“Fine. According to Georgette, he makes her blissfully happy, and I know she’s the light of his life. It’s sweet, really, finding a soul mate at their age.”
“I sure hope I don’t have to wait that long to find my Mr. Right.” Viv raised a brow, her smile little more than a naughty leer. “Do you think they have sex?”
“Ewww.” Ellie shuddered and set her sights on the park ahead. “I don’t want to think about it.”
They entered the gates of Carl Schurz Park and took the dogs off leash, then walked to the iron railing. To the north lay the Triborough Bridge, its majestic expanse bright in the waning evening light. Ellie rested her bottom on the railing and watched Rudy and Mr. T play tag with a couple of other dogs.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Viv asked.
“I’m picking up my two Chihuahuas and boarding them until the middle of the week. Then I plan to go clothes shopping.”
“It’s about time,” Viv responded, her tone teasing. “Please pick something that fits, instead of things that hang off you like a shroud.”
“My clothes fit the way I want them to fit. It’s not like I’m model-sized anymore.”
“I bet Detective Dreamy doesn’t think so.”
Ellie’s face warmed at the memory of last night’s kitchen encounter. Sam had complimented her hair and said she was attractive. The slug.
“He’s just like other males of the species. He’ll hump anything that’s available.” It had taken weeks to convince herself she was over the deceitful detective. He was the one who hadn’t called as he’d promised after their single night of sexual exploration. She hadn’t dumped him—he had dumped her.
At first, she’d assumed the reason for his disappearing act was her fault. She was too fat, too obnoxious, or too dumb, all failings her dickhead ex had mentioned time and again during their divorce battle. But on really bad days, she told herself it was more basic than that.
She was simply a lousy lay.
It had taken her months of self-exploration, but she now realized she’d been wrong to automatically think Sam had bolted because of her, when he was the one with the problem.
“Wow, you really are on a downer,” said Viv, breaking into her musings.
“Sam was just doing something nice yesterday, to make up for his being a jerk in April. The last thing I want is him in my pants again, because all that will get me is another night of slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am. I’m worth more than that.”
“You certainly are. And it’s about time you noticed.” They stood side by side for a few more minutes, lost in their own thoughts, before Viv asked, “Why do you think Gary left whatever’s in that box to Rudy and not you?”
“Who knows. Gary always talked about how he’d wanted a dog but his mother never allowed it. He and Rudy got along fairly well.” Now was not the time to tell Vivian of her unique talent of dog telepathy, or the fact that Gary had it, too, at least where Rudy was concerned. “Most of the time, he acted like a big kid. He probably thought it was cute, leaving whatever to a dog. Besides, as the executor, I’m fairly certain I have all the power. I need a lawyer, I guess.”
“Someone has to read you rights as an executor.”
“I plan to talk to the judge about it, if I can get him to myself.”
“In case help from Judge Frye doesn’t pan out, remember I have that cute corporate attorney I want you to meet. I’m sure he’d give you free legal advice if you went to dinner with him.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” Ellie said, as she’d done a couple of zillion times before. “I’m just afraid asking Stanley for help will make Mother angry. She’ll rag on me about my distasteful profession, which will lead to an argument, which will lead to another version of World War III.”
“The ex-terminator rides again.” Viv gazed out at the park and nodded. “Looks like the boys made a friend.”
An older gentleman dressed in jeans and a plaid, short-sleeved shirt squatted in front of Mr. T and Rudy, talking as if they were old pals.
“It’s time to go home. We might as well collect them and say hello,” said Ellie.
Ellie and Viv ambled to the trio. The man, who looked to be in his sixties, had thinning brown hair and a pot-belly. “Evening, ladies. These dogs belong to you?”
“The Jack Russell is mine, and the yorkie mix belongs to Ellie,” said Vivian. She shook the man’s hand. “I’m Vivian. Do you have a dog?”
The man grinned. “Name’s Benedict, and no, I don’t. But I like these little guys. I know about Jack Russells, but what’s a yorkie mix?”
“He doesn’t need to know, Triple E,” said Rudy, standing rigid at her side.
“Rudy’s part Yorkshire terrier, part poodle. At least that’s what they said when I found him at the shelter.”
“He seems smart. Is he a biter?”
Rudy growled low in his throat, complete with bared teeth. “I am where you’re concerned!”
“Hey, stop that,” Ellie ordered. “Sorry, he’s just tired. Normally, he’s meek as a lamb.”
“Good to know.” Benedict stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You two come here often?”
“A couple of times a week,” said Viv. “It’s a long walk, but the dogs like it.”
“I imagine so. Well, see ya around.” Turning, he headed south toward the Cherokee Apartments.
“Nice guy.” Viv clipped the leash onto Mr. T’s collar.
Rudy snorted. “I didn’t like him.”
Ellie swallowed her canine pal’s comment and hooked him to his lead. These days Rudy seemed suspicious of everyone. But really, growling at a nice old guy in the park who just wanted to say hello? He needed to get a grip.
Chapter 4
“Why do I have to take part in today’s so-called mission of mercy?” Rudy asked as they left the apartment the next morning. “Saturday’s our day to sleep in.”
“Because you need fresh air.”
“I’d rather be
snoozing,” he grumped. “And I’m in mourning for Gary.”
Ellie heaved a sigh. After everything that had happened in the past day and a half, catching a few extra winks had been her first choice, too, but she’d promised the Fallgrave sisters she’d babysit their Chihuahuas while they were out of town.
“I feel the same as you, but I have things to do, and this is our only chance for exercise today.”
“So take me for a walk and bring me home. I’m not looking forward to this stop.”
“Cheech and Chong will be our houseguests for the next couple of days, which means you are their host and I their hostess.” She waited while Rudy raised his leg against a trash can. “And no smart comments allowed. I expect you to be on your best behavior both at their home and ours.”
“I keep tellin’ you those hairballs are illegals. We’ll be lucky if INS doesn’t raid us . . . or Homeland Security.”
“You’re being ridiculous. Janice assured me they purchased the boys through a reputable breeder here in the states.”
“Right, sure. Heaven forbid she be truthful and tell you they came from some puppy mill south of the border.” He snorted. “You are such a pushover.”
“Why would she lie? Besides, if by any chance they are here ‘illegally,’ they probably miss their homeland. So we need to be extra nice to them.”
Twenty minutes later, they sauntered through the doors of the Beaumont, an upscale apartment complex that had been the second building she’d acquired on her client list. Nodding to the weekend doorman, she held up her key and entered the elevator. On the top floor, she took note of the ear-shattering music playing inside the suite and rang the bell. When no one answered, she used her key to open the door and peeked inside.
“Hello! Patti! Janice? Anybody home?”
She stepped into the foyer and waited. With the blaring rock instrumental, it was no wonder she couldn’t be heard.
Rudy pulled on the lead. “I say we tiptoe in and surprise ’em. I bet we catch those scrawny bean eaters doin’ something against the law.”
