“Scott told me his wife had been abducted. Based on what he said, it sounded like she’s been missing since this morning, but he didn’t get around to telling me who had taken her. He said he’d been threatened because he had something someone else wanted. Mandi became the leverage. You know, you should probably be focusing some of your attention on looking into her disappearance, Detective.”
Before he could blow another gasket, the door opened, and I heard a familiar voice. When I turned, I found Ryder striding toward me, his jaw locked up tight and his serious cop face in place. Detective Delaney lumbered out of his chair and pulled himself up to his full height, which was several inches shy of Ryder’s.
Delaney barked, “What are you doing here, Hamilton? Didn’t you wash out of homicide after only one case, and aren’t you out on leave for a boo-boo, anyway?”
Ryder ignored him and looked at me. “Are you okay? One of the guys at the station called me and told me something went down here. Is that…?” He gestured toward the big bag they’d just put Scott in.
I nodded.
His voice was strained. “I am so sorry, Juliet.”
Delaney said, “Quit chatting up my suspect, Hamilton. I don’t know how you managed to badge yourself in, but this is my crime scene. Get lost.”
Ryder finally turned to Delaney. “Yeah, it’s a crime scene. And because of that, it’s not a proper location to question anyone. Her lawyer gets hold of this, and your whole conversation could become inadmissible.”
Yeah, if I had a lawyer, which I didn’t. But I was starting to think I might need to find one tonight.
Delaney held up his hands. “Okay, fine. You want her out of here? I’ll take her out of here.” He grabbed my arm and hoisted me out of my chair. “We’re going to the station.”
All I could think was Please don’t handcuff me. Ryder practically had steam coming out his ears, and he jawed at Delaney all the way out the door and down the sidewalk to his cruiser.
As Delaney was unceremoniously stuffing me into the backseat, Ryder said to me, “Maya and I will grab Pete and meet you at the station. Don’t worry, okay?”
Easy for him to say, although in the back of my mind I knew I had the truth on my side.
Delaney smiled menacingly. “Don’t bother with Bennett. He’s already got a free ride downtown.”
Okay, now I was worried.
—
I’d been “taken to the station for questioning” before, so I knew what to expect, but it was still embarrassing as hell. At least I didn’t have the added humiliation of arriving in handcuffs.
I waited for what seemed like hours in a little interrogation room. Finally, Delaney came in smirking at me. But as cocky as he seemed, he’d become awfully disheveled. His shirt was rumpled, his tie was hanging loose, and it looked like he’d lost a button or two near his collar.
He slapped a manila folder down on the table between us. “Scott O’Malley’s preliminary cause of death is cardiac arrest.”
No kidding. His heart stopped. I could have told them that.
He continued, “The ME informed me that she thinks he may have come in contact with some kind of substance that could have killed him.” Leaning toward me, he asked, “You know anything about that?”
“No.”
“Witnesses say he ingested coffee and water while he was talking to you. Maybe you slipped something into one of his drinks.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Maybe your friend Pete Bennett did it, then. He served the victim both drinks—isn’t that correct?”
My stomach clenched. Now I realized why they were looking so closely at Pete. “Yes, Pete brought Scott coffee and water.” I quickly replayed the events of tonight in my mind, hoping to find some way to prove Scott’s sudden death couldn’t have been caused by anything Pete did. My eyes widened as an image of how Scott had looked when first I sat down to talk with him shot through my head. “But neither had anything to do with his death. Scott was showing clear signs of being unwell long before he ingested anything at Java Jive. He was sweating, pale, and shaking when he got there. If he came ‘in contact with some kind of substance that could have killed him,’ it happened before he walked in the door. Test the coffee and the water he drank. I’m sure both cups are still on the table where we were sitting.”
He gave me a condescending glare. “Oh, we’re already testing them, but thanks for being an armchair detective. I hear you’re quite the investigator.”
“About that, I know you have zero evidence to hold me, or Pete Bennett for that matter. When can we leave?”
Delaney snarled, “Well, seeing as how Hamilton has been beating down the captain’s door and professing your innocence, I doubt you’ll be here too much longer. I suppose it pays to sleep your way around the department.”
My temper flared at his biting remark (which wasn’t inaccurate—I had in fact dated two MNPD detectives), but I held my tongue. My lack of response seemed to incense him. He stormed out and slammed the door. I blew out a pent-up breath and let my shoulders slump. I hadn’t been this exhausted in a long time.
After a few minutes, a uniformed officer came in and told me I was free to go, but that I needed to be available for further questioning. In other words, don’t leave town. He led me to the front doors, where Ryder and Maya were both pacing, impatiently waiting for me outside. The moment I got out the door, they both rushed up to me and gave me tight hugs and awkward condolences about Scott. Once I assured them I was okay, they both seemed to relax a bit.
Ryder was relieved enough to crack a joke. “Didn’t I tell you that you’d be in big trouble if I had to cut our date short to come bust you out of jail?”
Maya elbowed him in the ribs. “Oh, stop. But seriously, Juliet, you really are going to have to stop being nearly arrested.” Her tone was light and crisp, as it usually was thanks to her British accent. However, her voice still wavered underneath, and her dark eyes were strained.
Ryder chuckled. “Yes, you’re going to have to stay out of trouble, but only because Maya can’t handle it. I had to run interference so she didn’t earn herself a spot for the night downstairs in the zoo. Did you know she got kicked out of the station for barging in there and losing her crap, demanding they release you and Pete immediately?”
She gave him a wry smile. “I wasn’t the only one with my knickers in a twist. Your bad behavior nearly succeeded in getting your temporary leave turned into a permanent one.” Winking at me, she said, “He had Delaney by the collar, itching to beat some sense into him. Luckily, their captain didn’t happen to see it.”
For some reason, that got me. Tears pooled in my eyes. “You guys are the best. I’m betting Pete and I would be guests of the MNPD tonight if it weren’t for you sticking your necks out for us. Both of you took really stupid risks.” I smiled. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“It’s what friends do,” Maya said, putting her arm around Ryder’s waist. “You would have done the same for us.”
Oddly enough, when I looked at the two of them smiling at each other and gazing into each other’s eyes, I didn’t feel the pang of discomfort I usually got. I didn’t have time to think about what that meant, because Pete exited the station at that time, and I hurried into his arms.
“I’m sorry I got you mixed up in this mess, Pete. The last thing I’d ever want is for you to go through another interrogation over a murder.”
Pete had made some major strides lately in getting over the heartache of his former girlfriend’s death, but I knew there was still some pain there about him being charged with her murder and put in jail for a time.
He said, “Don’t worry about me. I need to know if you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
Pete let me go and took a step back so he could study my face. I could tell he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t press it. “Bottom line, Jules, we’re both suspects or persons of interest or whatever you want to call it. We could be in some serious tro
uble here.”
Ryder cut in, “Pete’s right. The situation is nothing we should take lightly. However, the good news is that the facts and evidence are on your side. They can’t charge you without evidence.”
Pete stared at him. “Are you forgetting what happened to me?”
Ryder sighed. “Technically, there was evidence against you. It just wasn’t the right evidence.”
Maya said, “According to what we’ve learned, they’re thinking it could be some kind of poisoning. But since they won’t find any poison in the drinks you two served the victim, you’ll soon be off the hook.”
Pete wasn’t convinced. He wasn’t exactly trusting of the MNPD. “I think the detective on the case has all but made up his mind. Even if they find nothing in the drinks, they could still say we cleaned up the evidence before anyone got there. This is far from over.”
Frowning, Ryder said, “I don’t think Delaney would make stuff up, but he isn’t the best detective they could have thrown at this case.”
“Where’s Cromwell? For once, I’d rather he be the one investigating us,” I said. Detective Cromwell had been a thorn in my side through some other cases, but the last time I’d gotten tangled up in a murder investigation, he’d surprised me by being totally on my side and even treating me like an equal.
“Vacation,” Ryder replied.
Maya said to me, “If Delaney is the incompetent git he seems to be, I think the quickest way to clear your names is to investigate this thing yourself.”
Over the past year, I had decided I really hated investigating murders. Give me a cheating spouse or a dirty business partner any day. Murderers were nuts.
I protested, “But what about the big case I’m working on? I’ve got a lot of hours yet to put in—”
“You’re off the case,” Maya said matter-of-factly.
My jaw dropped. “But…You can’t—”
“I can, and I just did. You’re going to be distracted by this thing with your ex either way, so you’ll be no use to me. Get your personal life in order, and then come back to work.”
Tears again welled up in my eyes. It felt like I was being fired.
Maya took my hands. “Juliet, I’m not doing this to hurt you. If you’re not giving your full attention to an investigation, you’ll either miss something important, or worse, get yourself hurt. I couldn’t stand for that to happen on my watch. Find the proof of your innocence, and then you can get on with your life. Delaney could drag this out for months. Trust me, you don’t want that.”
Ryder nodded. “As much as this goes against everything I’ve ever said to you, I think you should investigate Scott’s death on your own. We’ll help you every step of the way.”
I felt Pete fidgeting beside me. He said, “I’m on board, too, but I think we should pick this up tomorrow. It’s late, and you’ve been traumatized. You need some rest so you can think clearly.”
Patting me on the back, Ryder said, “Come on. I’ll drive you guys home.”
Chapter 4
Once I got to my apartment, it hit me how tired I was from everything that had gone down today. But before I even made it to my bedroom to change into my pajamas, there was a knock at my door. Immediately assuming it was Cooper, who had probably heard either through the grapevine or on the news about what had happened at Java Jive, I cringed. I didn’t have the energy to talk—or do anything else, for that matter. Maybe he’d go away if I didn’t answer the door. I hid quietly in my bedroom, only to be startled nearly out of my mind when my phone began ringing and vibrating in my pocket.
“Hey, Pete,” I said as my greeting. No matter the mood I was in, I never minded talking to Pete.
“Answer your door.”
“Okaaaay…”
I ended the call and hurried to the door, wondering what could have possessed him to drive over here at midnight.
He stood at my door with Scott’s satchel in his hands. “I…um…didn’t get a chance to give Scott his man purse back before…you know…”
I sighed. “Right. I guess we should—”
Pete barged into my apartment. “There’s some stuff in here you need to see.”
I followed him into my kitchen, where he placed the bag carefully onto my counter and opened the flap. “You went through his bag?”
He gave me a sheepish look. “I had a good reason, okay? I took his murse because in the back of my mind I was worried he’d come back to get revenge on you for punching him earlier. I figured it was my responsibility to make sure he didn’t pull some kind of weapon out in the middle of my place…or worse, try to use it on you.”
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
“And I was right,” he went on, brandishing a handgun he pulled from the bag.
Jumping back in horror, I cried, “Put that thing down! It’s probably loaded.”
He showed me the butt end of the gun, which was missing its magazine. “Calm down, Jules. I removed the clip and emptied the chamber.”
Staring at the gun, I said, “Scott must have thought he was in real trouble. I never knew him to carry a gun. I don’t even think he owned one when we were together.” I stopped to shake my head. “Wait. How did you get your hands on Scott’s man bag? You didn’t take it with you to the station, because you didn’t have it when we left. And Java Jive is on lockdown until the crime scene unit is done with it, so you couldn’t get back in there to grab it.”
“You know after Scott was…um…gone, and I went to get you some water?”
“Yeah.”
Pete shrugged. “Call it intuition or déjà vu—I knew this thing was going to turn into a huge cluster—which it has—so I hid the bag in the bushes near the back door. I wanted you to be able to have a look through it before the police got it. And I didn’t want to tell you about it in front of Ryder Likeapony. I know he’s supposedly on our side and all, but he’s still a cop.”
I was touched at the risk he took for me. “Thanks, Pete.”
At the same time, I was concerned he’d created a problem. The police were going to be looking for Scott’s personal effects, like his keys, phone, and wallet. When they didn’t find them in his pockets, in his vehicle, or at the scene of his death, it was only a matter of time before they started asking questions. And of course Pete and I would be the first people they’d ask.
For now, though, we had the upper hand. Maybe. Depending on if there was anything of use in Scott’s man bag. I opened the bag and emptied the contents onto my kitchen counter. As I suspected, we found his wallet, keys, phone, spare change, and lip balm. There were also a few crumpled receipts, an old-fashioned motel key, and some empty candy wrappers.
“The phone is password protected, so it’s pretty well useless.” Pete picked up the motel key and wiggled it at me. “This is what I’m most interested in. Scott said he was in trouble. What do you say we do a little poking around in his motel room and see what else we can find? He was staying at the Franklin Motel. It’ll be just like old times.”
I chuckled uneasily. The first time Pete and I had investigated a murder (the other time I’d been a person of interest), it had led us to the Franklin Motel. It was a horrendously run-down place in a seedy part of town, and we’d had a rather dangerous experience there. I didn’t know if I was up for it again, especially tonight. Sure, I tracked shady characters at my second job, but I never withheld evidence from the police or did any kind of breaking and entering.
When I gave no response, Pete threw his arm around my shoulders. “I know you’re a fancy-pants PI who doesn’t break the rules anymore, but this is kinda serious. I think we need to do whatever it takes to clear both of our names. I’d much rather get a slap on the wrist for a B and E I did commit than a few decades with a cellmate named Tiny for a murder I didn’t.”
I held up my hands. “Okay, okay. I get your point. Let’s go.”
—
During the drive over, I filled Pete in on the rest of my conve
rsation with Scott and repeated what Detective Delaney had said to me during my interrogation. Pete said Delaney’s interrogation of him went largely the same way, so he had no additional information to add.
When we pulled up to the aging motel, which was crawling with unsavory characters even at this ungodly hour, I said, “Something feels off about this. Scott O’Malley would never even consider stepping foot inside a fleabag motel, much less actually rent a room at one and stay overnight. Plus, he would have peed himself having to walk past all the dealers and pimps and hookers wandering around.”
Pete cast a sideways glance at me. “You want to know what I think?”
“Don’t I always?”
“I think he came to this fine establishment so he could give a fake name, pay in cash, and remain unnoticed. You want a room at a posh hotel downtown, you have to give them your life story and your credit card. If he was trying to keep a low profile, this is the place to do it.”
“I guess you have a point there.”
Pete grinned. “Don’t I always?” He reached into the backseat and retrieved Scott’s gun from the bag, then stuffed it into the back waistband of his pants.
My mouth dropped open. “What are you doing? This little field trip of ours is dangerous enough without you running around with a gun.”
“Do you recall what happened the last time we poked around at the Franklin Motel? I had to assault a guy to get us out of here in one piece. If we get into a sticky situation again, holding someone at gunpoint will be much simpler. As for me ‘running around with a gun,’ it’s okay because this thing isn’t even loaded.”
He got out of the car, and I followed him, complaining. “Oh, well that totally makes it okay. So what happens if one of those fine gentlemen over there decides we’re easy pickings and holds us at gunpoint with a gun with actual bullets in it?”
“We run like hell. Now zip it and act like you own the place. Room ten.”
On our way to room ten, as we passed the smelly green bog that had at one time been a swimming pool, we got offered both drugs and sex, but we did not in fact get held at gunpoint. Once we were inside the room, I leaned against the door and breathed a sigh of relief.
Murder Over Mochas Page 3
