Couldn’t stand to wait to go home to shower, not one more fucking second. Descended to the gym in the basement, thanked Candace for her kind assistance before shedding her paper thin coverall and standing under the hottest water she could stand in the grimy, tired shower stall, wondering if Mills could hear her sobbing.
***
INT. – 9TH PRECINCT INTERROGATION – MORNING
Gerri stood next to Emily as the ADA shuffled papers in front of her. They’d managed a quick meeting while Ivan Bruts stewed alone in the interrogation room. Daryl Patterson was more than willing, it seemed, to throw his security chief under a bus now he suspected the man had murdered both Belinda and Gaylene.
“I honestly thought it was my wife stealing from the company.” Daryl sounded sad. “When you accused me of it… I realized something was wrong. But I never suspected Ivan. He’s been with me for years.”
Jackson delivered a thick file to Gerri who still longed to punch him until not even his mother would know him. If he had a mother. Slime like him was shit into existence, not born. The very thought he’d watched Ray dress, had humiliated her friend like that… Gerri would tear him into tiny little pieces and keep him alive while doing it.
Police work drew her back to the sharp inquiring eyes of Emily Pocket as Gerri shared the file.
A file the ADA had spread out before her on the table, facing down Ivan Bruts.
“You had them both fooled.” Gerri spoke up before Emily could, felt the woman’s irritation, but this was her investigation and no matter the ADA’s involvement, it was Gerri’s ass on the line. “Belinda and Daryl. Had them almost turned against each other.”
Bruts didn’t comment about that. “Where’s my lawyer?”
“Turns out Mr. Patterson chose not to have his legal counsel represent you.” Emily’s small smile was about as evil as anything Gerri had seen. “Did you want to wait on legal aid?”
Bruts shifted in his chair. “I want a lawyer.”
Fine, he’d have one. But, Gerri had a few things to say while they waited. Even as Emily packed up, the detective leaned in, grinning. “Funny how the surveillance tapes from the Melton’s elevators were mysteriously erased last night.” Convenient. “Was Ray right, Bruts? Were you going to blame the murder on her? Planned to plant the gun at her house, perhaps?” She had officers at Ray’s right now, searching for the weapon. “See, if that was your plan, you fucked the pooch. Because no one screws with my friends.”
His nose wrinkled, lip curling. “None of my business who your slut doc friend fucks,” he said.
Gerri could easily have gone over the table at him. But her gut chuckled, surprising her. And, she realized his response was fear based. He was afraid of her.
Did he know what she was?
“If I find that gun anywhere near Ray’s apartment,” Gerri said, “I’ll know it was you.” If they found a gun, Ray was screwed. Prints or no prints, it would point to the medical examiner, not him. But Gerri refused to let him think such a blatant attempt at framing her friend would work to his advantage.
“Prove it,” he said.
“Easy,” Gerri said, sitting back. “We have a witness.” Okay, so the kid from the laundry at the Melton hadn’t pinpointed Bruts, but he didn’t know that. “You like to visit the Melton a lot, don’t you? Late at night? Sit in the back of SUV’s and put bullets in the backs of women’s heads? Too bad the camera you toasted wasn’t working.” She grinned. “But the fine young man who saw you leaving can’t be erased.” She paused, purposely. “Or, can he?”
Bruts was sweating. Gerri loved this part, loved the hunt and chase, the power of it. Emily sat silently next to her, waffling between anger and excitement according to Gerri’s gut. Let her watch and learn.
“Ex-military,” Gerri said. “Dishonorably discharged for stealing antiques from Iraq and Afghanistan during your tours, though they cut you loose when you testified against your buddies.” She shook her head. “So much class there, I can barely stand it.”
Emily cleared her throat. “We can only assume you were working one of two angles. Either you were stealing from the company to pad your own pockets,” Gerri watched him, felt nothing, “or you were trying to ruin the Pattersons for an outside client.”
There. He twitched. Just barely, but enough for her bheast to feel it, to register it.
To mutter, guilty.
Gerri laughed as her mind made a leap. “I don’t imagine your new bosses will be very happy with you for this failure, Mr. Bruts,” she said. “In fact, I would venture a guess they aren’t the forgiving type, am I right?”
A flash of terror passed through his whole body. Real, unadulterated terror. The kind she could smell in a waft of sweat.
So, he wasn’t afraid of her, then. Who was he working for?
Gerri stood, Emily beside her. “I give you twenty-four hours in holding,” she said. “If that. Good luck making it to trial, Bruts.”
Mute, stricken by fear he was unable to voice, he simply watched her go.
The ADA followed her out into the bullpen, grabbed Gerri’s arm, turned her around with one tiny hand. Gerri loomed over her, still grinning.
“You’re going to leave it at that?” Emily seemed disturbed by Gerri’s attitude.
“Guys like him,” the detective said, “make their own beds, Pocket. And no matter what I told him in there, we have nothing. He’ll escape our justice. But from the fear he was kicking out, he won’t survive his employer’s disappointment.”
“And you can live with that?” The ADA hesitated, troubled.
“Not my decision,” Gerri said, even while she made her own plans to follow him once he made bail. Out into the world. Back to his bosses. Because, she just had to know. And tracking him made the most sense. If he made it that far. “Nice working with you.” She walked away, heading for her desk, thinking about Ray and Jackson and the fact no matter what she did, how hard she tried, some shit just had to fix itself.
***
INT. – GERRI’S CAR to DR. PANTHER’S OFFICE – AFTERNOON
Gerri checked the text from Emily and grinned.
Found Bruts laptop in air vent at apartment. No record of bosses, but evidence of communication.
The second text was expected. Bruts just found dead in his cell.
Gerri shoved the phone into her pocket without answering. Two women dead and the traitor either murdered or encouraged to suicide. Not an ideal ending, but at least the case was solved. To a point. Emily would likely pursue the employers, though Gerri had no doubt they would cover their tracks well enough she’d never find them. She might even help if the ADA asked.
As far as Gerri’s detective instincts were concerned, the case was solved. Bruts’s laptop confirmed the orders to kill the two women. Though the emails, sent from an untraceable cellphone, never indicated why they needed to die. A frustrating end to a frustrating case, but an ending, none the less. And she had other things to deal with.
She sat behind the wheel of her car for a long time before climbing out and entering the office building. She did her best to contain her anger as she rode the elevator up to the top floor, talking herself out of freaking out, knowing it would do no good and that it was really none of her business. But needing to see things through.
Angela looked nervous when Gerri appeared, but calmed as the detective held up both hands.
“Sorry,” she said. “Really. I shouldn’t have lost it. I need to see Dr. Panther.”
Angela picked up the phone, but didn’t get to dial. Cici’s office door whipped open and the beautiful therapist gestured for Gerri to join her inside.
The detective took her time, measuring her steps as much as she did her breathing, knowing freaking out on Cici would get her nowhere. They’d already had it out once in the last twenty-four hours. Besides, Gerri was more interested in Ray’s state of mind than her own.
The door thudded solidly shut. Gerri turned, mouth open to speak, silenced when Cici beat her to it.
“I know why you’re here,” the therapist said, dark eyes quiet. “Might I say, Detective, first and foremost my personal life is none of your business?”
Gerri shrugged. “Ray is my friend,” she said. “I worry. So sue me.”
Cici looked away, body stiff under her cream silk blouse and black pencil skirt. “I’ve decided to let you go as a patient,” she said. “Angela has the exit paperwork prepared for you.”
Not like it was a huge surprise. Cici had given her fair warning earlier, hadn’t she? But Gerri was still hurt by the dismissal. “Just like that, doc?”
Cici’s frown was tinged with sadness. “You refuse to accept you have problems to deal with,” she said. “And I can’t continue to allocate valuable time and resources to your recovery if you won’t even address your issues.” Gerri felt her stomach clench, hated the fact she wanted to beg Cici to change her mind, to reconsider. That she’d be good, she promised. Memories of being asked to leave teams thanks to her temper, of breaking up with friends and boyfriends over her attachment issues burned in Gerri’s blood as Cici went on. “Your outburst against Angela yesterday was the last straw, Detective.” The therapist sighed, rubbed her temple with two fingers. Gerri’s eyes traveled to a small bruise on the inside of her elbow, a bruise that looked like the imprint of a hand. But, she didn’t get to ask about it because Cici was still talking, breaking her heart. “Maybe at some point in the future, if you decide you’re willing to actually work on your issues, the two of us can reconnect.” No one had ever offered Gerri a second chance before. “But, I want you to think about this, long and hard. And I will have to do the same.”
There wasn’t much else she could do. Except, in a pique of hurt, strike back at the therapist the only way she could.
Without thinking of the consequences, her bheast growling and grumbling in pain at being rejected yet again, Gerri shrugged as if it didn’t matter to her.
“This isn’t about me,” Gerri said. “It’s about your relationship with Ray. I get it. But, you might want to ask the woman you’re in love with, who you’re dumping me for, why she’s sleeping around on you. If she loves you that much in return.” Gerri regretted her words immediately, knew she’d betrayed Ray with that childish backlash. And had hurt Cici in the process, though she really didn’t want to care.
“You’re lying.” Cici actually seemed afraid, broken.
“Am I?” Gerri strode past her, brushing against her shoulder, rocking her around as the detective stomped to the door and jerked it open. “Have a nice life, Doc. And when Ray dumps your ass for good, like she always does, I’ll be there for her. Not you.” She paused one last moment, green gaze locked on Cici whose face crumpled, tears in her eyes. “But, if you use this against her, if you hurt Ray even a smidge, I assure you, Dr. Panther, you haven’t seen even a fraction of the mess I am inside. But you will.” Cici just stared, mute and trembling. “Whatever you did to her to drive her into another woman’s arms, I’ll find out. And if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
An empty threat. Or was it? Gerri let her bheast take control a moment and understood she would do it. For Ray. For Kinsey.
Hell fucking yeah.
Boots ringing on the tile floor on the way by, Gerri saluted Angela, heading for the elevator. She should have tried this therapy stuff long ago.
Suddenly, she felt like a million bucks.
***
INT. – RAY’S APARTMENT – AFTERNOON
Ray answered the door, expecting Gerri or Ray. Not Cici, not those troubled, dark eyes, not the luscious fall of black hair, or the delicious skin under cream silk.
She knew before Cici opened her mouth the therapist had found out about Gaylene. A sob hovered at the back of Ray’s throat as she waited for the accusation, the screaming, the pain.
“Ray,” Cici whispered. “I’m so sorry, my love.”
She was sorry? Ray gasped, reached out and pulled Cici to her, tucking the shorter, softer woman against her long, slim body. Breathed in Cici’s unique scent, a mix of desert air and freshness, trembling as Cici trembled.
They held each other a long moment before Ray stepped back, letting the therapist in. The door swung silently shut as the pair stood, watching each other with a foot of distance between. It felt like a gaping chasm to Ray.
“When you came to see me last night, I wasn’t alone.” Cici shook her head, long waterfall of shining hair rippling around her. “I take clients in my home from time to time, those who can’t or won’t come to my office. Those who don’t want the public to know they are seeing me.”
Of course. The other woman’s voice had been a client, not Cici sleeping around. That was Ray’s MO. But there was more to this, the way she’d treated Ray in the last few days, weeks. The on-again, off-again.
Cici seemed to know where Ray’s mind went. “I said I was sorry,” she said. “And I meant it. I’ve been so confused, Ray. I love you.” Her fingers drifted over Ray’s wrist, a gesture so simple and yet so intimate Ray shivered from it. “But I was dealing with guilt over not telling Gerri and other things.” She looked away. “I’m under certain… pressures. Family based.” Cici sighed. “I never meant to hurt you.” She paused, hurt in her face, in her whole body. “Or to drive you into another woman’s arms.”
Ray sobbed once, both hands covering her mouth to hold in her grief. But Cici reached for her instantly, not allowing her to smother her weeping. Pulled Ray firmly to her, stroking her hair, whispering her love for Ray while she cried openly over what she’d done.
Over what she always did. Ruined everything because how could anyone possibly love her?
Mummy’s legacy had to end. Here and now. Ray kissed Cici, desperate to believe this could be real, that everything would be okay. Even as her soul crumbled and continued to weep over the fear she was just lying to herself all over again.
***
INT. – PHILO’S BAR AND GRILLE – NIGHT
Kinsey eyed Gerri over the lip of her wineglass as the detective chugged her third beer, setting it down on the table with a gusty sigh. She’d already shared her version of events of the day, and though Kinsey had no doubt they’d unfolded the way Gerri said, it was only one side of the story.
She really needed to call Ray.
As if understanding her reticence, Gerri fixed the anthropologist with her piercing green eyes and grinned. “Tell me I didn’t fuck up.”
Kinsey couldn’t help the smile that answered her friend’s question. “You were yourself, Ger,” she said. “No one can blame you for that. And I’m worried about Ray, too.” She wondered if Gerri and the brunette doctor had a conversation about her like this one. If she’d have one with Ray about Gerri someday.
They cared about each other, fair enough. But they were also adults, right?
Right.
“At least Ray finally stood up to that douchecanoe mother of hers.” Gerri rolled her eyes. “Should have seen the look on the bitch’s face when Ray told her to go fuck herself.” Kinsey still couldn’t believe that part. They’d met Victoria a few times in college, and both knew instinctively—had talked about it even then—that Ray’s mother had full and complete control over her daughter’s emotional state. It amazed Kinsey Ray had managed to pull even free enough of Victoria to go to medical school when her mother resisted.
Said a lot about her friend and made Kinsey worry less. And more.
“You do realize dating Cici could be a good thing?” Kinsey set aside her glass of wine, no longer wanting it. Her tongue burned from the tannins. “That Cici could help Ray work through some of her shit? Give her the stability she’s never had?”
Gerri shrugged again, looked away, sullen suddenly. “We’ll see,” she said. Was she unwilling to admit their friend was that screwed up or perhaps Cici might be right about Gerri and her influence over Ray?
Kinsey felt like a kindergarten teacher in that moment, like she was the only one in control. How weird was that? She’d looked up to Gerri an
d Ray for so long, she’d forgotten they all had flaws. But, faced with the detective’s childish reaction to Ray’s situation, Kinsey caught herself smiling and wanting to pat her friend’s head.
“We’ll just have to be here for Ray, as always,” Kinsey said. That got a nod from Gerri, another sigh, heaved over her empty beer. Gerri waved to the waitress while Kinsey went on. “By the way, you’ll be happy to know I kicked the habit.”
The detective’s eyes narrowed. Kinsey could almost see her bheast rise, watchful. “What habit?”
As if she hadn’t already guessed. The anthropologist shivered under Gerri’s gaze, but not in a bad way. She was grateful for her friend’s caring, really. “Simone,” she said. “I quit.”
Gerri’s grin was worth the agony of cutting herself loose from the artifacts. Kinsey clenched her hands in her lap, knowing even more now, as the wave of longing passed, she’d made the right choice. Whatever those artifacts were, she wanted nothing more to do with them.
Liar.
“I’ll tell the captain,” Gerri said. “Can’t wait to see the look on Jackson’s face.”
Kinsey grinned with her, clinked glasses when Gerri’s new beer arrived, though she only took the barest sip from her wine as the redhead downed hers.
Funny how she just didn’t like the taste anymore.
***
INT. – JULIAN BLACK’S MANSION – NIGHT
Simone threw her glass across the room, the heavy lead crystal shattering against the edge of the fireplace. She ignored Julian’s scowl, how he ducked from the glittering shards hurtling back toward him, her hands fisted at her sides, nails cutting deep into the flesh of her palms.
Booty Call (Episode Seven: The NIghtshade Cases) Page 7
