The Woman Who Wasn't There

by Marie Ferrarella

  “Aren’t you?”

  Part of him still thought she was either baiting him, or just bantering. A warmth spilled through his loins now that he gave the matter real thought.

  “Not if I can help it,” he told her. “My work is serious enough, the rest of my life I try to keep as light as possible.”

  Troy glanced at his watch. He had to be getting back, even though he would have preferred to remain here, talking to her like this. Part of him believed that he was having a nice dream and that, sadly, it would end the moment he walked out of the coffee shop. But the work wouldn’t do itself and if Kara had to handle the workload, he knew he would never hear the end of it.

  On the off chance that she actually was serious, he said, “So I’ll see you tonight at your place at seven.”

  “Yes.”

  There wasn’t a glimmer of a smile on her face. He had to believe she was serious. And if she was serious, he still didn’t understand why. Her excuse didn’t really hold water.

  Or did it?

  He shook his head. “You are an unusual woman, Agent D’Angelo.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “Do I get to call you Delene tonight?”

  She told herself that if she relinquished the shield provided by her title, that wouldn’t make any of this more personal. Delene really wasn’t her name anyway, even though it was what she’d answered to these past five years. “If you want to.”

  Bits and pieces of tonight’s scenario began to play through his head. “And you’ll call me Troy?”

  She felt as if the ground beneath her feet was turning into quicksand. Maybe this wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done. She did her best to keep a poker face in place.

  “If that’s what you want.”

  What he wanted was to bring color back to her face, sparkle into her eyes. What he wanted was to make tonight the most memorable night she had ever experienced.

  “That’s what I want.” Leaving her with a wink, he turned away and started to walk toward the front entrance.

  He took exactly three steps before the annoying tones of his cell phone emanated from his pocket. He stopped and took it out, then flipped it open. Because there was a low level of noise around him, he covered his other ear. “Cavanaugh.”

  “Where are you, pretty boy?” Kara’s voice came through the phone loud and clear. She sounded slightly impatient.

  They usually took lunch together. Kara didn’t like to eat alone. “Having coffee at The Coffee Express. Want anything?”

  “Yeah, for you to get your butt down to Central and Grand.”

  Was she being petulant because he’d ducked out on her? “You want me to stand in the middle of the crosswalk?”

  “No, wise guy, I want you to meet me in front of the Grand Hotel.” He was familiar with the place. It was anything but what its name indicated. The rundown, seedy establishment was home to a number of people down on their luck, hoping to move up, afraid that they might be moving down. “One of my informants came through.” Kara took the opportunity to crow because most of the time, despite her time on the force, most sources turned out to be his. “We’ve got a possible Kathy Springer sighting, thanks to someone I know in the Medicaid department. You interested? Or do you want to have another cup of rip-off designer coffee?”

  “I’m on my way.”

  After snapping the phone shut, he tucked it back into his pocket and started toward the door again. But as he waited for a couple to make their way out ahead of him, he hesitated. He and Kara wouldn’t have even been looking for Kathy Springer if it hadn’t been for Delene. She was the one looking for the woman to begin with.

  He knew that later he could tell Delene where Kathy was, after they’d taken the woman in for questioning. But Delene had made it clear that she wanted to be the one to break the news to the woman and her daughter. This was a homicide case, not a matter up for show-and-tell. Which meant that he should just keep walking. But to be a good cop didn’t mean always strictly playing by the rules. Listening to his brothers talk about their cases had taught him that.

  Even his father bent a rule or two when the time called for it.

  He made his decision.

  “Got gum on your shoe?” Just as he was about to turn around and go back, Delene came up to him. “You’re stuck in place,” she pointed out.

  Someone jostled against her, sending her all but into his arms. It took a second before they both backed up again. His racing pulse was a new sensation. He summoned a great deal of restraint not to kiss her. “We found Kathy Springer.”

  Surprise, then pleasure slipped over her features. There was a light in her eyes that he found particularly inviting.

  “Great,” she cried. “Where?” As an afterthought, in case he had any ideas about making a quick retreat, she took his arm.

  The contact surprised him. She was physical when she got excited, he thought. Good to know. “The Grand Hotel on Grand and Central. I’m on my way over there now. Want a ride?”

  She wanted to be able to stay with Kathy and her daughter if she had to. Besides, she didn’t like being dependent on someone else. “I’ve got my own car. I’ll follow you.”

  It might be better that way, Troy decided as he finally went to the parking lot. He watched and waited while Delene got into her car and then brought it around behind his. As he pulled out of the lot, Delene stayed with him. If they arrived in their own vehicles, it wouldn’t look to Kara as if he’d actually brought Delene to the site.

  For about a minute and a half, he mocked himself, bracing for the lecture Kara would feel bound to deliver. The one about secrecy and ongoing investigations.

  ***

  Traffic conspired against their making good time. Ten miles took over thirty minutes. He and Delene pulled into the hotel’s limited parking lot almost at the same time. Once they emerged from their respective cars, he could see the frown on Kara’s face from where he was. He was going to have to do some placating later on. Maybe offer to do some of her paperwork in order to smooth her ruffled feathers.

  “Sorry, traffic was bad,” he said to his partner as he approached.

  The frown on Kara’s face did not recede. She paused only long enough to blow her nose. Her cold had her in a bad mood.

  “Bringing along your own cheering section these days?” she asked, giving Delene the once-over.

  His tone cut short any sarcasm Kara might have had to offer. “Have you talked to the superintendent yet?” he asked.

  Kara shook her head. “No, I wanted to wait for you first.”

  Troy opened the door to the small, dark foyer. The smell of ammonia permeated the air. A stoop-shouldered man in a green shirt and darker green pants was listlessly pushing a mop around. The water in the pail beside him was murky.

  Unable to contain herself any longer, Kara hissed into Troy’s ear. “Why is she here?”

  Despite his partner’s judgmental tone, Troy couldn’t help smiling. Kara was the last person on earth to be considered for the post of goodwill ambassador. Her people skills left a great deal to be desired.

  “Delene was with me at the coffee shop when I got your call.”

  The mildest trace of interest flittered across Kara’s brow. She looked at Delene again. They were all inside the building now. The man mopping the floor had his back to them, ignoring them as he worked.

  “So?” Kara pressed, still not seeing the connection. Or the need for Troy to bring the woman along, even if she might have been his latest source of interest.

  Delene had no intentions of standing quietly by as they talked around her. She had just as much right to be here as they did.

  She spoke up. “So, if it wasn’t for my looking for Clyde’s girlfriend in order to find his daughter, you people might not have even thought to look for her.”

  Troy tried to cut through any further questions from Kara. “Professional courtesy,” he explained. “I owe her one.”

  Kara frowned, clearly not happy, but still not about to make wave
s for a partner she respected and worked well with. “You could have just sent a thank-you card.”

  Humor glinted in his dark blue eyes. “Next time.”

  The words had come from Troy, but they made a cold shiver run down Delene’s back. Next time? Was he making plans? She didn’t want plans, didn’t want anyone thinking they had the right to make plans that involved her or feeling as if they had any say over her life at all.

  The only one who had a say in her life was her, and it was going to stay that way.

  “There’s not going to be a next time, Cavanaugh,” she informed him tersely.

  Kara’s mouth dropped open and then she smiled. Broadly. Amusement and pleasure danced in her eyes as she looked at her partner. “She’s not interested in you, pretty boy. I didn’t think there was a woman alive who wasn’t interested in you.”

  Delene blew out a breath. She had called in to the office and taken a few hours’ personal time. She didn’t want to waste it standing here, listening to Cavanaugh’s partner cackle.

  “Do you think you could see your way clear to not talking about me as if I wasn’t here?”

  For the first time, Kara grinned at her. “Sorry, my fault. Won’t happen again.” She hummed to herself as she led the way to the man with the mop. Tapping him on the shoulder, she waited until the slight, dark-haired man looked at them.

  Both Kara and Troy showed him their badges. “Detectives Cavanaugh and Ward,” Troy said. He shoved his wallet back into his back pocket. “We’re looking for someone in connection to a homicide.” The moment he said the word, the superintendent’s ruddy complexion turned pale.

  “I run a clean place,” the man declared, clutching his mop with both hands.

  “I’m sure you do,” Troy said mechanically. “Do you have a Kathy Springer staying here?”

  He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Nope, can’t say that I do.”

  Troy glanced at Kara. The woman moved forward, unwilling to accept the man’s answer. “She’s blond, skinny, has a little girl with her. About four or five.”

  Still the man shrugged and shook his head again. “They come, they go. As long as they pay their rent on time and don’t make noise after eleven, I don’t really notice them.”

  Troy felt his pockets, but the photograph he had of Kathy, reprinted from the mug shot they found, wasn’t in any of them. He looked at his partner. “Did you bring a picture of her?”

  Kara shook her head, chagrined. “I didn’t think to bring it,” she confessed. “You?”

  He thought back, then remembered where it was. “On my desk at the precinct.”

  “Damn,” Kara muttered. “Look, she’s about—”

  Before she could continue with the description, Delene elbowed her way in. She held up a photograph, the one she’d copied from Kathy’s driver’s license.

  “How about her?” she asked the superintendent. “Have you seen this woman? Is she staying here?”

  Leaning the mop handle against the wall, he wiped his hands against his coveralls and then took the photograph from her. He peered at it closely, squinting in order to focus better.

  And then he nodded, his head jerking up and down like one of those ceramic bobble heads.

  “Yeah, sure, I know her. That’s Serena Sherman. She’s in 2B.” The superintendent handed the photograph back to Delene. “New here. Keeps to herself. And she’s got a kid. Kinda thin, but very pretty.” There was a touch of a leer to his lips as he watched Delene put away the photograph again. “Like her mother.”

  “In 2B,” she repeated. “Thanks, that’s all we need.” Turning to Troy and his partner, she smiled. “Looks like we’re all in business again.”

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  Troy could hear Delene exhale an impatient breath directly behind him as he knocked on the door of 2B for a third time. There was still no answer.

  “She’s not home,” Kara said. “Let’s go.”

  Just then the door opened. The woman who looked at them with accusing eyes was not Kathy Springer. Or Serena Sherman. Not unless the woman in the photograph had suddenly aged about forty years and gained close to a hundred pounds.

  Scowling, the woman in the bright, crisp lavender-and-green floral housecoat planted herself in the doorway, her body prohibiting any access into the apartment.

  “Quiet,” she rasped, annoyance etched into her features as she glanced over her shoulder. A television set was on behind her. The program she’d been watching had gone to a commercial break. Troy had a hunch that was the only reason she’d come to answer the door. “You’ll wake up the baby.”

  “Baby?” Delene echoed. The little girl in the photograph she’d seen in Clyde’s motel room had been around four or five. Had the superintendent given then the wrong apartment number?

  The woman shrugged, then inserted her hand beneath the housecoat to fix a bra strap that had slipped from her shoulder.

  “Well, she’s really four, but I call her ‘baby’ because, hell, at my age, almost anyone under twenty is a baby.” Then, as if she suddenly realized she was becoming friendly with strangers, she scowled again, looking at Troy since he towered over all of them. “What do you want?”

  Troy took out his badge and showed it to her. “I’m Detective Cavanaugh. This is my partner, Detective Ward.” He glanced to see that Kara was holding up her identification.

  Leaning forward and squinting, the woman made it a point to look at both badges. Satisfied that they were real, she nodded toward Delene. “Who’s that?”

  Delene already had her identification out. “I’m Delene D’Angelo. I’m with the County Probation Department.”

  The woman’s brow knitted together, as if she was digesting the information. “Serena done something wrong?” she asked.

  Troy wasn’t about to go into any detail. “I’m sorry,” he said politely. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  The woman straightened her somewhat bulk-encumbered frame, annoyed that she hadn’t gotten an answer. “That’s because I didn’t throw it. I’m Louise Patton. I babysit for Serena when she’s working.”

  Troy turned toward Delene. “Give me the photograph you showed the super.” She did as he asked and he took it from her, showing it to the woman. “Is this Serena?”

  “Yeah, that’s her.” Her head bobbed as she once again glanced over her shoulder. The parade of commercials was still going on. She returned her attention to the people in the hallway. “But she’s not home right now.”

  “Where is she?” Kara asked.

  The woman’s small, deep-set brown eyes moved from one to another slowly. Missing nothing. What’s this all about?”

  Troy paused for a moment, debating how much to share with the woman. “We’d like to speak to Serena in regards to a homicide investigation.”

  Every bone in Louise’s body seem to snap to attention. Drama had left her television set and the realm of make-believe and had come calling into her life. “Who’s dead?”

  Troy’s smile was easygoing. And immovable. “We’d like to speak to Serena first.”

  Louise Patton gave an unladylike snort and looked properly annoyed at being kept in the dark. Delene would have been willing to bet one month’s pay that the woman was a regular nonstop gossip when it came to her friends and neighbors. Louise struck her as someone who desperately needed to know everything about the people around her.

  “Would you know where she is?” Troy pressed gently. More gently than the situation warranted, given his position, Delene thought. She knew a lot of policemen liked to throw their weight around, and he should have been more inclined than most, given his pedigree. That he didn’t gave her pause. And made her see him in a more favorable light.

  It further undermined the feelings she wanted to have about him.

  Louise’s wide shoulders rose and fell in lieu of a verbal claim of ignorance. “Said she had some errands to run, and then she’s going to go to work. She’s usually gone from around seven.”
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  “Do you know where she works?” Delene addressed the question to the back of Louise’s head. There were several places where the roots were coming back, with more than a touch of gray.

  The woman was checking up on her program. A second battery of commercials had come on, delaying her viewing even longer.

  Turning back around, she shook her head in response to the question. “No, she don’t tell me.” The corners of her mouth rose in a superior fashion. “But I’ve got my suspicions.” And then she jerked her shoulders up and down again. “But she pays me every morning when she comes home, so I can’t complain. I’ve got insomnia,” she confided. “Might as well make some money while I look for something decent enough to watch on TV.”

  Troy had a feeling that given enough time, Louise Patton would tell them everything she’d ever known about anyone or anything. For her talking was as natural as breathing.

  “She works until morning?” Kara asked just before she sneezed.

  The woman seemed irked that she was expected to repeat herself and disdainful that the detective was sneezing in her presence. “That’s what I said.”

  “What time does she come home?” Delene asked.

  The babysitter thought a moment. “Sometimes at two, sometimes at four. It’s not like she punches in a clock here.” She cackled before adding on smugly, “Easy money for me—her daughter’s an angel.”

  The endless march of commercials was finally over and it was obvious that she wanted to get back to watching her program. One hand on the door, Louise began to shift impatiently, eager to close it.

  “You got a card or something I can give her when she gets home so she can call you?”

  Instead of giving her one of his cards, Troy merely said, “We’ll be back.” He lowered his voice just a tad, playing up to the woman’s desire to be in the know. “And we’d just as soon you didn’t mention our stopping by to her.”

  The babysitter nodded knowingly. “’Fraid she’s going to run out on you? I get it. My lips are sealed.” Her smugness escalated as she pantomimed placing her lips under lock and key.