The woman said something that clearly upset Sara, because even from her position nearly twenty feet away, Ash could see the muscles in Sara’s jaw clenching. Rachel looked around, and then gestured for the threesome to move toward a small cluster of trees several yards away from the graveside.
Ash walked several feet to the right towards the small group. She was still unable to hear the conversation, but could clearly see the aggressive posturing Rachel was taking toward the woman. The brunette’s shoulders were hunched and she glared at the blonde as she clenched her fists.
The woman in red seemed unfazed by any of it, and laughed at one point, reminding Ash of the melodic tones of Coleen’s laughter from the other night at Blue Box. Then Rachel grabbed the woman’s arm, or at least Ash thought she must have, because as quickly as Ash blinked, Rachel’s hand was curled around the woman’s forearm, and then it was back at Rachel’s side. Now the two women stood face-to-face with one another. Sara said something, and Rachel stepped back.
Ash took several steps forward, tilting her head to the right, trying desperately to hear what they were saying, she struggled to reconcile the quickness of the exchange between Rachel and the woman.
“Detective Haines. Nice to see you again.” Andrew Raymond stepped up next to Ash.
Ash glanced to her side, and barely made eye contact with the man. “Mr. Raymond.”
“Andrew, please.” The man insisted.
Ash rolled her eyes. “Mr. Raymond, what can I do for you?”
The man frowned. “I’m surprised to see you here, is all.”
Ash continued to watch the three women. “It’s usual procedure in a murder investigation.”
“Kinda morbid if you think about it, detective.” Andrew stated matter-of-factly.
Ash looked at him. “How’s that?”
The man shrugged. “All these people are here to mourn Paul, and you’re here critiquing their every move in hopes of finding his killer.”
“I consider that practical, not morbid, Mr. Raymond.” Ash turned her focus back on Rachel, Sara and the woman in red. “Ah - Andrew - by any chance do you know who the woman talking to Sara Glass is?”
Andrew followed Ash’s stare. “That’s why I came over. That’s Michelle.”
Ash felt a prickling of heat rush up her neck. It was the feeling she got when her instincts and the facts of a case began to align.
“Thank you, Andrew.” Ash turned and smiled. “Please excuse me.” Before the man could respond, Ash turned and walked back toward her Jeep. She leaned against the front of the vehicle, intending to wait for Michelle and have a long overdue word with her.
“Detective Haines. I understand you’re looking for me.” Ash quickly turned to find Michelle standing next to the passenger door. Ash couldn’t reconcile how the woman had maneuvered from the area near the grave to the Jeep without Ash seeing her.
Ash looked at the grave and then quickly back at Michelle. “Yes.” She unclipped her badge and photo ID from her belt and walked toward Michelle. “Detective Ashley Haines, and you’re Michelle?”
The woman reached out and put her hand on Ash’s to steady the badge. “Call me Ela. Paul preferred my middle name, and I indulged him.”
Ash’s brow arched. Ela’s hand was cold like Emma’s, and her eyes were as intensely blue without any of the warmth she saw in Emma’s. “Your last name, Ela?”
The woman looked up from the badge, and grinned. “Jacobs.”
Ash pulled her hand away and clipped her badge onto her belt. “I know this may not be the best time, but I would like to ask you a few questions about Mr. Garrett’s death.”
Ela nodded. “Oh, of course, I am always happy to help the men and women in blue.”
Ash squinted at the clearly insincere tone in Ela’s voice. “Great, just let me get something to write on.” Ash hurried around to the driver’s door, and reached in to the Jeep and retrieved her iPad. Turning back around, she was startled that Ela was standing only a few feet from her.
How the hell did she get around the car without me hearing her? Ash shook her head. “Right, what was your relationship with Mr. Garrett?” Ash had the distinct impression the woman was toying with her, and she was in no mood.
Ela leaned against the side of the Jeep and crossed her arms over her chest. “We weren’t fucking, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Definitely toying with me. Ash glanced up at Ela, forcing a smile. “That hardly narrows it down, Ms. Jacobs.”
Ela laughed and smirked at Ash. “Right you are, Ash.”
Ash felt a surge of irritation. She hadn’t told the woman to use her first name and she certainly hadn’t given her permission to use the more familiar nickname. “Ms. Jacobs, I’m going to stop you there. In case you haven’t put it together, I’m interviewing you regarding the brutal murder of a man who, by some accounts, you may have been the last person he saw before he died.”
Ash’s voice went flat. “So let’s cut the bullshit, shall we?” Not waiting for Ela’s response, Ash continued. “Where were you Thursday night, two weeks ago?”
Ela cocked her head to the right, and Ash thought she caught a flash of iridescent blue shoot across her eyes. “I can’t possibly be expected to remember that, detective. I’ll have to look at my calendar and get back to you.”
Ash made a quick note on her iPad. “When did you see Mr. Garrett last?” Ash looked up at Ela. “Or do you need to look at your calendar for that information as well?”
Ela smiled and pointed her index finger at Ash. “You catch on, detective.”
“What’s your profession?” Ash continued to pepper the woman with questions.
“A little of this and a little of that.” Ela began looking around. “I know Paul referenced his ex Sara Glass several times. Perhaps you should take this line of questioning up with her?”
Ela smirked. “Aren’t the ex-girlfriends always on the top of your hit list?”
Ash shook her head. “Not necessarily. Ms. Jac -”
“And -” Ela leaned forward, her vanilla and lavender scent washing over Ash. “I’ve heard she’s with a woman now.” Ela shook her head. “Scandalous.”
Ash looked at the blonde, and considered her for several seconds. “Not really.”
Ela’s perfectly manicured brow arched, and her eyes wandered from Ash’s reddish brown eyes to her breasts, and then down to shapely thighs before coming back up to her face. “Oh, what a pleasant surprise.”
Ash’s heart raced. She had been leered at before by men and women alike, but this woman looked like she literally wanted to consume her. Ash cleared her throat.
“Here’s my card Ms. Jacobs. If I don’t have the information regarding your alibi for the night Paul was killed, and the last time you and he were together by five this afternoon, I’ll have an arrest warrant issued for your obstruction of a murder investigation.”
Ela took the card, and traced the edges with her index finger. “Not to worry Ash, like I said, always glad to help the men, and especially the women, in blue.”
Ash nodded, and opened the driver’s door. She knew she should take the high road and simply drive away, but this woman had irritated her a couple different ways. Ash decided the high road was overrated. “Ms. Jacobs, I’m picking up a faint European accent when you speak. Polish, maybe?”
Ash slid into the leather driver’s seat. “Regardless, you should know that in this country, and particularly in the South, we don’t use people’s first names or nicknames unless they give us permission.”
Then Ash looked pointedly at Ela’s dress. “And generally, it’s a sign of good taste, breeding and respect to wear black to a funeral.”
Before Ela could respond, Ash shut the car door, and started the Jeep’s engine. When she finally decided to look up, Ela was gone. Ash peered around the cemetery, but the woman in red was nowhere to be found. Ash wondered if the woman had any idea how suspicious her actions made her seem, and more to the point, if she cared.
/> Ash pulled out of the cemetery parking lot, and took several deep breaths. In spite of what she was confident had been a calm exterior demeanor, Ash had been sweating and her heart racing through most of the awkward interview. In spite of being beautiful, Ela Jacobs had rubbed Ash the wrong way, and she was convinced, now more than ever, the strange woman was involved in Paul Garrett’s death.
Chapter 5
“Are we doomed to continue this on-again-off-again relationship?” Alan put his menu down as Ash approached their booth at Sushi Zushi, a contemporary sushi restaurant in town.
Ash slid into the black leather booth across from Alan. She was happy for the distraction her friend offered after what had been a stressful week. Ela Jacobs had been at a Spurs game the night Paul Garrett was murdered, having parted ways with the victim earlier that evening. Several fellow fans had vouched for her.
The timeline was tight, but she would have had to traverse nearly the entire cityscape in less than fifteen minutes to arrive at Paul’s apartment, according to the timeline the Medical Examiner’s Office had provided.
To further add to her stress, the Garrett crime scene just kept getting stranger by the day. The final M.E. report was released, and it didn’t shed any new light on the situation.
Ash had read and re-read the file trying to understand how a fit, healthy man in his mid-thirties had been restrained by a single individual without fiber evidence of ropes, or ligature marks from leather or metal restraints. Not to mention the enormous strength it would take to crush every bone in Paul Garrett’s torso. The fibrinolytic enzyme found around the bite marks that nearly covered all of Paul’s body only added to the disconnects that seemed to comprise the case.
Ash sighed as she looked across the table at her friend. “Calm down, you’re not well. It’s only been a week.”
Alan put his hand over his chest and looked shocked. “I’m hurt.”
Ash picked up her menu, and began flipping through it without looking at Alan. “I hadn’t thought that possible.” Alan laid his menu down, and grasping his hands in front of him on the table, stared at Ash.
Ash glanced up at her friend, and then down at his hands. “Are you praying?”
“No!” Alan pulled his hands off the table. “Don’t even joke about that.”
The waiter arrived, and Ash ordered water without lemon. As counterintuitive as it was, the citrus and raw fish never tasted right to her.
“And can I get an order of edamame too, please?” The waiter nodded and left Ash alone with the incensed Alan. “What?” Ash put her menu down.
“How much do you love me?” Alan smirked.
“More than I have words for.” Ash saw a glint in Alan’s eyes that made her uneasy. “Why?”
Alan took a sip of his martini and cleared his throat. “Well, dear friend of mine, I have found you a date.”
Ash sighed. “I hadn’t realized I was on the lookout for one.”
“Always.” Alan took an olive from his cocktail and popped it in his mouth. “Or at least you should be.”
The waiter came back with Ash’s water and steamed edamame. “Are y’all ready to order?”
Alan looked up at the man. “Can you give us a few more minutes please?” Winking at the man, Alan then turned his attentions back to Ash, who was trying desperately to see how low in her seat she could sink. “Ah, ah, ah. Sit up, and be prepared to be amazed at my thoughtfulness and ingenuity.”
Ash pushed herself back up in the booth. “And don’t forget your humility.”
“That’s assumed.” Alan quipped. Clapping his hands together, Alan grinned broadly. “I have a new client who spent thousands of dollars with me, and - wait for it - she has a friend of your persuasion that she and I think would be just perfect for you.”
Ash felt physically ill, and took a long drink of her water. “Alan, let me see if I have this straight -”
Alan laughed. “Pun intended?”
Ash frowned the churning in her stomach getting worse. “What? Oh, the straight part? Ha - yeah, so you think I would be perfect for this woman you’ve never met, who was recommended by a client I’ve never met?”
Alan rolled his eyes. “Yes. This is how great romances start. You and I sitting in a restaurant, and you’re convinced I’ve done you some terrible injustice, and then boom, the love of your life enters stage left.”
Ash grimaced. She had to admit her social life had been lacking lately, and she knew Alan had nothing but the best intentions. Still, the idea of making small talk with a complete stranger was not high on her list of to-dos. “I really don’t want to do this, Al.”
Alan shook his head. “Maybe not, but you need to do this, Ash. When was the last time you went out on a date?”
Ash chewed on her lower lip. “Longer than I care to admit.”
“Then it’s settled. My client is giving her friend your phone number, and I am giving you her friend’s number, and presto - match made in heaven.”
Ash continued to chew on her lower lip. “Fine. What’s her name?”
Alan leaned in as if he was about to impart a state secret to Ash. “Lara, and it’s spelled L-A-R-A because she’s from Mexico and exotic.”
Ash laughed. “Alan, I hope that wasn’t your client’s line, because you got scammed, my friend. Mexico is not Spain, and parts of the country are downright third world.”
Alan huffed. “Christ, Ash, I’m not an imbecile. I know the difference between a country in Western Europe and a country in North America. Lara is from interior Mexico. Somewhere near Mexico City.”
Ash held up her hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Of course you know the difference.” Ash looked around for the waiter. “I’m hungry, where did the waiter go?”
Alan slid a piece of paper across the table toward Ash. “No subject changes. Here’s her number. Go forth and be gay together.”
Ash pulled the paper toward her, and without looking, folded it and put it in her pant pocket. Alan had always approached dating like Christmas morning, full of possibilities, merriment and wonder.
Ash also compared dating to Christmas morning. The people involved were the presents being offered to each other. They opened each other up, only to find they were not the anticipated gift. And if you were unfortunate enough to be going through the gift exchange on a blind date, you still had to smile in spite of the disappointment.
***
It was nearly six in the evening when Ash pulled into the parking lot of the Blue Star Arts Complex in the King William District of San Antonio. The development was adjacent to the San Antonio River, and consisted of renovated historic warehouse buildings. It offered an eclectic blend of arts-oriented galleries, urban style loft and studio apartments, restaurants and bars.
Lara Ramirez and she had exchanged a few text messages over the past two days, and had decided to meet at Bar 1919 for drinks. Ash had discovered the speakeasy style bar by accident when she had been at the complex with her sister-in-law Katy for a photography exhibit. The bar was small and not too noisy, which allowed for conversation.
Walking down the non-descript concrete stairs, and through the unmarked metal door of 1919, Ash blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior of the bar. The wood flooring, booths and bar itself were all dark stained oak. Looking around, Ash saw a woman sitting in a corner booth across from the bar. Based on their text exchanges, she assumed this was Lara, who had said she would be wearing a red silk scarf and a gray V-neck sweater.
If there was any doubt in Ash’s mind she would be attracted to the woman, it was immediately put to rest. Lara was in her early thirties, with long brown hair that had a luster and framed her defined angular features and perfectly proportioned lips. As she looked up, Ash’s breath caught. Lara’s eyes were nearly clear and, in the dim light of the bar, seemed to glow.
“Ash?” Lara slid out of the booth, a smile on her face. She wore a pair of denim Lucky Brand jeans tucked into black Steve Madden riding boots. This compl
imented her sweater and scarf, and accentuated her height which was close to Ash’s.
“Lara.” Ash extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Absolutely.” Lara took Ash’s hand. “I’m glad we were able to get our schedules to work.”
Ash noticed Lara’s hand was incredibly warm, verging on hot, and she reprimanded herself silently for allowing her mind to associate that with Emma Atman’s cool hands. “Me too.”
The two women slid into the booth, and Ash enjoyed the earthy scent of Lara as the size of the booth forced them into proximity of one another. “So what are you drinking?”
Ash knew Matt the bartender from her previous visits, and looked to see that he was on shift. “I usually leave it up to Matt. He’s a great bartender, and basically you can tell him what you like and he creates something delicious.”
Lara nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll defer to you and Matt then. Anything with vodka is okay with me.”
Ash smiled and slid out of the booth. “I’ll be right back.” Ash waved Lara off when she attempted to hand Ash a twenty dollar bill. “First round is on me, you can catch the second.” Ash winked as she walked toward the bar.
“Hi Ash. How’ve you been?” Matt stepped around a bartender Ash didn’t recognize as he greeted her.
“Can’t complain.” Ash leaned on the bar and looked over at Lara who was typing quickly on her phone. Ash hoped she wasn’t one of those people who couldn’t put the phone down. Ash’s mind began to spin, imagining Lara was telling her strategically stationed friend in the bar to be ready with a call that would provide her with an excuse to leave the crappy blind date.
“What will it be?” Matt broke into Ash’s paranoid musings.
“I’ll have an Appleton and coke, please. My friend said anything with vodka is fine by her.” Ash nodded toward Lara.
Matt’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at Lara. Ash knew that look. It was the same look she assumed was on her face when she first saw Lara. Something akin to lust and hope. “How about a Vodka Collins. A Tom Collins with vodka instead of gin?”
Becoming Forever (Waking Forever Series) Page 7
