Black Diamond Death

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  Tommy shook his head.

  “I dunno about that.”

  “Let me put it this way,” Nick said, “you can give us the information we need, or the next time you get a knock at your door, we’ll be having this conversation at the station.”

  CHAPTER 36

  I typed the address Tommy gave us into my phone.

  “Now I know why I couldn’t figure out where she lived,” I said. “She doesn’t own the place at this address, Charles Peters does.”

  “Charles could be her father; they share the same last name.”

  “Let’s stop by her apartment,” I said to Nick.

  “And do what?”

  “Take a look,” I said.

  “I doubt you’d find her there, she’s on the run.”

  I smiled.

  “Oh no you don’t.”

  “Come on,” I said. “I work for myself, so guess what; I don’t need permission from you or your boss. If she’s not there anyway, what’s the harm––who’s going to know?”

  He pointed a finger at himself.

  I joined my wrists and held them out.

  “Why Detective Calhoun, do you plan to arrest me?”

  He stayed quiet.

  “Turn here,” I said.

  “This isn’t a good idea.”

  Nick was far from perfect, but he tried his best to uphold the law, and I respected him for it. It wouldn’t be right not to give him an out.

  “Let’s go home, and I’ll do this later.”

  “If you mean on your own––I don’t think so,” he said. “You go in, I’ll keep watch. Let me know if you need me.”

  “Will do.”

  “How do you plan on getting into her apartment anyway?”

  I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  “Don’t you worry about that, the less you know the better.”

  There was only one person seated at the front desk when I entered and his eyes were glued to a device that he clutched in his lap. He couldn’t have been much older than a teenager and he had shiny long hair like a girl on a Pantene commercial. With his eyes sealed shut he lifted his fingers in the air and whipped his head from side-to-side as he strummed to the beat on his air guitar. When his guitar solo was over he opened his eyes and gasped when he saw me standing there.

  “I wondered if you could do me a favor,” I said.

  He removed his earbuds and looked at me.

  “What’s that?”

  “I left my wallet in my sister’s place today, and I seem to have lost the key card she gave me as well.”

  “Who’s your sister?”

  “Bridget Peters,” I said. “Unit 431.”

  “I’m not supposed to give another card out without her permission.”

  “You could call her,” I said.

  I gambled on the fact that she wouldn’t answer.

  “I guess I could do that.”

  He dialed the number and waited. After about thirty seconds he put the receiver down.

  “No answer?” I said.

  He shook his head.

  “I was afraid of that,” I said. “She told me she had to show some houses today and one of her listings was out of range. I have no idea when to expect her.”

  “Can’t you wait until she gets home?” he said.

  “I’m headed out to dinner with some friends in a few minutes,” I said. “And well––”

  “You can’t go without your wallet.”

  “Right,” I said.

  The wheels in his head churned and he weighed his options. If there was one thing I’d learned it was not to give people the chance to mull things over for long.

  I leaned over the counter and looked at the device that sat on his knee.

  “Oh wow, I’ve always wanted to get one of those,” I said. “Is that the new one?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I heard you can rent movies on it. That must be nice. I expect you sit here all night in this place without much of a distraction.”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s cool,” I said. “Do you do that?”

  “What?”

  “Rent movies on it.”

  “All the time.”

  “And you don’t think the screen is too small?” I said.

  He pulled it from under the desk.

  “Wanna see?”

  He handed it to me and I put the earbuds in. I cared nothing about the size of the screen, but that wasn’t the point. I watched for a minute and pretended to be engrossed in the fight scene that unraveled on the screen. When enough time had passed, I gave it back to him.

  “Thanks, I need to get one of those,” I said.

  He ran a plastic card through a machine and handed it to me.

  “Here,” he said. “Go get your wallet.”

  I stepped into the elevator and my cell phone vibrated.

  “How’s it going in there,” Nick said.

  “I’m in.”

  “Let me know if you need me.”

  “Will do.”

  “Remember what we agreed on,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  “This conversation never happened. Scratch that. This night never happened.”

  “10-4 over and out,” I said in a low whisper even though the floor was vacant and I was the only one in sight.

  Bridget was clean alright, although to characterize her place in such a way didn’t do it justice. Pristine worked better. There wasn’t a speck of dust, dirt, or grime anywhere. In the kitchen dishes rested in the dish drain. They were dry. The walls in every room were painted a bright white and I was almost afraid to touch anything for fear I would ruin the sterile environment.

  In the living room an inlaid bookcase contained a small DVD collection in a wide array of black and whites and about twenty movies which starred the late Marilyn Monroe. The room itself contained one picture. It was a single photo of Marilyn from her early days when her name was still known to those around her as Norma Jeane. She sat on an oversized green ball with a funny looking starfish prop next to her, and her hair was a rusty shade of red and not the lustrous blond she was known for later in life. She wore a white strapless bikini although the bottoms looked a lot more like granny panties than hot pants. It appeared Bridget was fascinated by her.

  The shower stall in the bathroom was dry. She hadn’t used it, at least not in the last several hours. On the nightstand in her room a single photo displayed a girl with her arms draped around Tommy. She had light brown hair that was straight and went to her shoulders and greenish-colored eyes that sparkled. She looked happy. On the bed was a duffle bag half full of clothes. I rifled through it and found two pairs of jeans, a few shirts, socks, a pair of Sketchers and several pairs of non-granny style panties. The side pocket contained some travel size shampoo and conditioner bottles, a bag of makeup, and a toothbrush and toothpaste.

  Bridget left in a hurry and without her bag, but why? Maybe she started to pack and planned to return later for it. Given the methodical order of her condo, to leave the bag didn’t suit her personality. Questions flooded my mind. Why had she left the bag behind, what was her tie to the murder and most important––why was she on the run?

  CHAPTER 37

  It was half past noon the next day and Maddie and I had just finished up with our jujitsu class and changed back into our civilian clothes. Out the window the snow gravitated toward the ground. It looked like tiny white feathers. We made the unanimous decision to stop next door for a hot drink before we braved the elements. I hoped if we stayed long enough the sun would show itself. Come out, come out, wherever you are.

  Maddie took a sip of her coffee.

  “That butterfly bandage is hot,” she said.

  “A hot mess.”

  She laughed.

  “I don’t know why, but I can’t take my eyes off it. It’s kinda like when you see a deer that’s been squished really bad on the side of the road and the guts are all over the place, and you know you shouldn’t look,
but you do anyway.”

  “You should have seen what I had to wear before this. It would have fascinated you for days.”

  “How’s your case?” she said.

  “It’s not.”

  “That good, huh,” she said.

  “For once I’ve learned something new.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It is possible to move backward instead of forward.”

  “Sounds like you need a day of shop therapy,” she said.

  “Or a week. Vegas is calling.”

  Her eyes beamed at the notion.

  “Let’s go then. I’m in,” she said.

  We clanked our cups together and toasted to the prospect of Vegas in our future.

  “Once I finish the case, you’re on.”

  “And what if you don’t solve it, you gonna be okay with that?” she said.

  I glanced at her and took a sip of my tea and said nothing.

  “Oh come on, don’t give me that face,” she said.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you do. It’s the same one you always give me when you don’t like what I’ve said. I didn’t suggest you give up.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “You allow your cases to consume your life,” she said.

  “I just finished jujitsu and now I’m here with you having a drink. My cell phone isn’t on me at the moment, and I haven’t mentioned the case all day until now.”

  She sighed and put her cup down. Here we go.

  “You struggled today in class. You lacked focus. I know you, and I know what you’re like when it comes to these jobs you take on. You’ll push yourself until you’re exhausted, and I don’t want to see you go through the same thing you did when…”

  She stopped and pretended to stare out the window.

  “Go ahead,” I said. “Say it. You don’t want to see me go through what I did when Gabrielle died.”

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have––”

  “No, it’s okay. That’s how you feel. That’s how Nick feels too. Hell, everyone feels that way, I get it.”

  “I understand how much you want to help this girl find who killed her sister. But she’s not your sister sweetie,” she said. “She’s not Gabrielle.”

  “And you assume that’s why I’m doing this, like somehow if I can find Charlotte’s killer it’s going to make up for what happened to Gabby.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said.

  “Can we talk about something else?”

  She leaned in and placed her hand on my shoulder.

  “I’m sorry. Forget what I said, okay,” she said. “I’m going to shut up now.”

  The sun launched itself out of the clouds and beamed through the store window.

  “That’s my cue,” I said.

  Maddie stuck a piece of bubblegum in her mouth and took her sunglasses out of her bag.

  “What’s on the agenda for today, pursuit of the bad guy?” she said.

  “Or bad girl.”

  “Bad girl, I like it,” she said.

  “I need to talk to Parker’s other women. His so-called alibi flies in today, but there’s someone else I need to meet with first. Her name is Zoey, and I’m certain they’re involved in a relationship of some kind.”

  Maddie flung open the passenger door of my car and hopped in.

  “Forgot where you parked your car?” I said.

  She pulled down her sunglasses and winked.

  “I’m coming with.”

  “Oh, you are, are you? I don’t think so.”

  “Afraid I might badger your witness?” she said.

  “Or scare them.”

  “Into submission, maybe. And in that case, you need me.”

  I thought about it for a minute. I liked working alone. It was better that way. Maddie popped a bubble and sat down in the passenger seat.

  “Oh come on,” she said. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

  Bright-eyed and pigtailed Maddie dressed in a hot pink track suit that fit like a glove and furry white boots that came halfway up her leg wouldn’t go unnoticed. In all the time I knew her I could not recall a single occasion where she didn’t stand out. Ever.

  “I think it would be best…”

  “Come off it Sloane. You’re such a worry wart,” she said. She nudged me in the ribs with her elbow. “Every good hero needs a sidekick, and I’m yours. Can’t you see it––two girls about town in their trusty Audimobile, together on a mission to solve crime. It will be fun.”

  I wanted to stick to my original plan and go it alone, but I couldn’t help myself and I burst out laughing. It was hard to believe there was no age difference between us.

  “Oh, alright already. I’ll take you, but just today. Buckle up.”

  She clapped her hands together in approval.

  “Promise to keep quiet though and let me do the talking.”

  She bobbed her head up and down quickly.

  “I mean it Maddie,” I said. “Not a word.”

  CHAPTER 38

  The Dynamic Duo, one in a hot pink track suit and the other in faded jeans and a fitted sweater, rendezvoused at Bridget’s apartment.

  “Stay here,” I said to Maddie when I opened the car door.

  “I want to come though.”

  “There’s just one thing I need to do and that’s it.”

  She stuck the bottom part of her lip out and folded her arms but remained seated.

  I crossed the courtyard and entered the building. A female sat at the front desk this time. I smiled and held up my key card. She nodded.

  I surmised Bridget wasn’t there but gave a courtesy knock just in case. When no one answered, I went in. From the entry her place looked the same. I walked to the bedroom and pushed open the door. The duffle bag was gone.

  Bridget had been there which meant she might still be in town. I exited the apartment and walked back to the parking lot. Right before I reached my car I spotted a green Honda parked at the far end of the lot. It was the same make and model that Tommy reported and from my vantage point, I could see a person on the driver’s side. The car idled, but it didn’t move. Its passenger stared at me and I stared back. I walked over but took my time; I didn’t want to alarm her. When I was close enough, I confirmed she was the girl in the photo with Tommy. She put the car into gear and glanced behind her. At twenty feet away, I wouldn’t reach her in time.

  “Bridget Peters?”

  Her eyes widened.

  “I need to talk to you,” I said. “It won’t take long, just a minute of your time.”

  The look on her face was the perfect blend of confusion and panic.

  “Please,” I said, “let me explain who I am. I can help you.”

  Her driver’s side window started to lower, but before I could say anything more a glimmer of pink sprinted past me. By the time the word NO! formed on my lips, Bridget tore out of the parking lot like someone who just received a call that their house was on fire. Within seconds she was gone. I looked over at Maddie who wiggled her shoulders and looked at me as if to say oops.

  “Maddie,” I said. “You were supposed to stay in the car.”

  “I wanted to help.”

  “I had it under control,” I said.

  “I’m sorry, I thought I could get to the car and––”

  “And what?” I said. “She might be the one person who can tell me what I need to know, and now she’s gone.”

  I put the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. A few minutes went by which seemed more like a few hours and we sat in silence. I focused on the road and Maddie looked out the window. After a few minutes she made eye contact.

  “I guess I wasn’t much help.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’m sorry I lost my temper. Something tells me Bridget’s the key to all this but she’s afraid; I could tell when I looked at her.”

  “Maybe you’ll get another chance.”

/>   “I hope so,” I said. “In the meantime, we still have Zoey.”

  CHAPTER 39

  It was late afternoon when we pulled up at Zoey’s place. The exterior of her squarish house was red brick and looked old, like it was built in the late 1800’s. It stood out amongst the other grandiose houses on the street because of its miniscule size. I recognized Zoey’s car in the parking lot as the same one from the restaurant a few days before.

  I closed my door and looked at Maddie who hadn’t said much over the past half hour.

  “You can talk now, you know.”

  “I know,” she said. “I don’t want to screw up anything else for you so I’m just going to keep my trap shut and let you do your thing.”

  Zoey peeled back the corner of a crimson red curtain and watched us approach. The door opened before we reached it and she peeked out. She looked me up and down and then switched her focus to Maddie.

  “Zoey Kendrick?” I said.

  “Sounds like you two know who I am, but I’ve never seen either one of you in my life.”

  “I’m Sloane and this is Madison,” I said.

  I handed her my credentials.

  Zoey had bits of what appeared to be dried orange paint on her face and she wore a tank top and a pair of overalls which were rolled up at the bottom. Her feet were bare except for a small silver toe ring on her pinkie. She glossed over what I handed her with minimal interest and handed it back to me.

  “I wondered if I could ask you a few questions about Parker Stanton,” I said.

  She shrugged.

  “Why should I answer any of your questions?”

  “A woman is dead, and I would like to find out what happened to her,” I said.

  She pulled back on the door.

  “Come in.”

  The inside of Zoey’s house reminded me of an artist’s showroom. Modern art was represented on each one of the colorful walls. One painting had several pastel colors blended together in a swirled pattern. It hung on a red wall. Another painting consisted of a series of vertical lines in all different colors. It hung on a blue wall. And on a yellow wall in the dining room was a painting of a young girl scolding her cat.

  “Wow, your house is amazing,” I said. “It’s so colorful.”