“How were we so lucky to get assigned to this case?” Delacruz said.
“Simple. Detective Boggs retires in two weeks, and he figured this case wouldn’t be solved that quickly. I heard his wife has already booked their flight to Fiji, and no one says no to Mrs. Boggs.”
“Smart man.”
But Delacruz hoped that they’d be able to solve it quickly, although he trusted his gut, which was telling him that this case would be anything but a typical homicide if there was such a thing.
“Do you have information on the two therapists who found the victim?” he said.
“Yes, but not much. Boggs’ team questioned them, then let them leave. I haven’t talked to them yet, so everything I know is from the report I’d pulled at the station. One’s Cassidy Hudson, and the other’s Jamal Jones.
“Did Mr. Jones check out okay?”
“Clean as a whistle. Not even a parking ticket on record.” Sanchez reopened her notebook. “As for the other one, and I quote: ‘Ms. Hudson has a sarcastic demeanor and will not shake hands.’”
“Won’t what?”
“Apparently, she’s one of those prissy little germaphobes, and she wouldn’t shake hands with the detective. I guess she’s a real pill.”
“Huh, well, she probably has her reasons. I’m not particularly great with germs, either. Her ‘sarcastic demeanor,’ though, reminds me of this woman from my apartment complex earlier today.”
“Really? Another one of your classy gals, I presume?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I haven’t dated in months.”
“No matter where we go—for coffee, donuts, whatever it is—you always get some trashy skank throwing herself at you.”
“It’s not all that bad. Plus, we get free stuff out of it, don’t we?”
“You keep telling yourself that. So, what about her?”
“Oh, I was at the pool, and she had such an attitude.”
“A real bitch, huh?”
“Eh. I wouldn’t say that. More insecure than anything. Anyway, did this Ms. Hudson check out okay?”
“Yes. No priors, although she did have a few parking tickets and was recently photographed speeding through an intersection. According to the court clerk’s notes, when she paid the fine, she seemed more preoccupied with how terrible she looked in the photo, than having broken the law.”
Delacruz smirked. His partner’s jealous tone reminded him of his older sister’s. His sister had hated the cheerleaders at their high school because they wouldn’t accept her into their clique, no matter how much she’d tried.
“We should follow up with them,” Delacruz said. “Maybe even bring them down to the station to answer some of our own questions.”
“I have their phone numbers; I’ll give them a call and set up a time for them to come down tomorrow morning.”
“I was going to volunteer down at the animal shelter tomorrow morning,” Delacruz said. “With the recent influx of abandoned animals, they could really use my help.”
“Well, go play hero, then, and I’ll hold down the fort.” Sanchez gave him a playful punch in the shoulder.
Ever since they’d had a heart-to-heart over coffee during a stakeout one night a few weeks back, Sanchez had become more touchy-feely. She’d let it slip that she found him attractive, but he hadn’t responded in kind to her comment. The strange way she chewed her food did very little to entice him into breaking the department’s dating policies, or into breaking his own, for that matter: never dip your pen in the company ink.
“Uh, thanks,” he said, “but this case is more important right now. I’ll find someone to replace me.”
Over the next two hours, both detectives took their own photographs of the scene. They wrote down extensive notes and bounced ideas off each other until there was little left to discuss. During the first stages of an investigation, any solid leads or theories always came sparse. It would have been nice, not to mention convenient, to find a piece of evidence that pointed to the killer, but no such luck. Frustrated, tired, and hungry, the two detectives drove back to the station to process the details. Gut feeling told Delacruz that this wasn’t an isolated murder.
Back at the station, he sifted through piles of evidence already collected, then started to make a crime-board to map everything out. He hung up a photo of the victim, complete with the time and the date.
“I hope we can keep it to one board this time,” Sanchez said.
Delacruz nodded. “Let’s hope.”
While Sanchez rifled through stacks of paperwork and photos at her own desk, Delacruz sifted through various witness statements until, about halfway through, he came across Cassidy Hudson’s. Multiple quotes of hers made him smile. The woman was spunky. Then, he saw Ms. Hudson’s address: Tuscany Estates Apartments.
“Sanchez, did you see this?”
“See what?”
“This witness, Cassidy Hudson. She lives at my apartment complex.”
“Have you seen her around?”
“I’m not sure ... ” Delacruz scrutinized the photo. “You know, I never thought the new policy of keeping witness pictures with their statements would ever come in handy.” He blocked out the hair to focus on the face. “Wait a second ... I think I have seen her. Remember that woman I told you about, the one at the pool?”
“The cute one with the bad attitude?”
“Hey, I never said she was cute. Plus, she’s a suspect. Come on, give me some credit.”
“You should stay clear of her.”
Delacruz shook his head with a quick laugh. “I think it’d be a good idea to get to know her better, but on the down-low. Befriend her, see if she knows more than she’s letting on.”
“Sounds like a terrible idea. Let me guess, you’ll be down at the shelter tomorrow, instead of questioning the two witnesses with me?”
He shrugged and prepared to leave for the night. “Might as well. Kills two birds with one stone that way.”
Sanchez rolled her eyes. “Just for the record, I still don’t like it. But we’ll play it your way... for now.”
“Great.” Delacruz stood and headed for the door, notebook in hand. “I’ll call you later. Let me know if anything important pops up.” And he promptly left in search of something to eat before he’d sit down to again review his notes in private. A killer who preyed on the elderly was on the loose, and if they didn’t nip this case in the bud, the community might start to panic.
CHAPTER 4
C
assidy shuffled into the Sunshine Home Health office fifteen minutes late, hoping she wouldn’t have to later hear about it when she met with her boss, Janet, who’d messaged earlier that morning wanting to see her as soon as she’d set foot into the building. Slowly, Cassidy lifted the sunglasses from her face and secured them onto the top of her head. The room seemed unusually bright, and she regretted her last-minute decision to drink a large glass of wine before going to bed last night. The horrific sound of laughter and the fake, nauseating smell of aerosol-can flowers accosted her.
Good grief, I hate mornings. Cassidy would have yelled this out, had her head not been throbbing.
“Cassidy! OMG! I heard what happened!”
Willow rushed over and tried to pull Cassidy’s stiffened body into an unwelcome embrace. The overly chipper coworker was not only a physical therapist, but also a wacky spiritual adviser who’d been brought in to fulfill the “spiritual void” that had formed within the company. And when she’d found out Willow was related to the owner of Sunshine Home Health, Cassidy had given up all hope of getting her fired.
Now, the bizarre woman had wrapped two stubby yet extremely strong arms around her. It was a struggle-snuggle that was choking out her will to live. Terrified to meet Willow’s large, round coal-black eyes, Cassidy searched for a means of escape. Could she fake a seizure? Drop her talker-stalker to her knees with a quick elbow to the face? Instead, Cassidy held her breath, hoping to outlast the hug or at least pass out. But, the thou
ght of waking up on the dirty office floor made her shudder. Never once had the floor been mopped with anything other than the dingy brown water used to clean the toilets and the bathroom stalls, and the sheer volume of infectious material that could have been swabbed from it made Cassidy queasy.
“Oh dear, you’re shaking,” Willow said. “Come sit by me and tell me all about it. It must have been just awful!” Willow relinquished her grip on Cassidy’s torso and, grabbing her hand instead, led them to the lunch table in the center of the room. Cassidy grimaced. Note to self: sanitize my left hand before touching anything that belongs to me.
The lunch table was piled high with everything from rubber therapy bands to unused adult diapers. Cassidy never ate her lunch there, nor had she ever ceased to be horrified by those who did.
“No, I’m fine, really.” Cassidy wrenched her hand free and sat down on a metal folding chair. “I think we need to worry more about JJ. He seemed pretty shaken up by the whole thing.”
Willow screeched with delight. “OMG! I know just the thing. The spirit-cleansing song does the trick every time!”
Cassidy’s eyes widened. “Oh—uh—no, Willow, you don’t need to do that. He’ll be just fine.”
“Oh, pish-posh! He needs my help. You even said so yourself.”
“But I’m sure he’ll be fine without the song. Please, remember what happened last time?”
For a moment, Willow grew quiet, lost in thought as her eyes filled with tears. Hopefully, she was recalling the last time she’d performed her song and dance ... and sent an unwitting coworker to the hospital. Maybe there was hope for JJ yet.
Then, Willow took a deep breath, tears drying in the blink of an eye. “I’ve got it,” she said. “I’ll perform the entire song. Last time, I rushed it, cut it short, you know. That’s what went wrong.” And she stood up, cramming supplies into her backpack.
“No, seriously. JJ will be okay. I wouldn’t risk it.” But her words fell on deaf ears.
“He’ll be here any minute, and I need to prepare. I don’t want to pull a hamstring like I did last year.”
As Willow hurried off, Cassidy’s stomach sank with guilt. Or was it the aftereffects of wine mixed with beer? Either way, she sanitized her hands and went in search of her boss. She’d need to find JJ before Willow did in order to warn him of the impending insanity. But first she had to talk to Janet and get that out of the way.
“There you are,” wheezed Darth Vader’s younger and less attractive sister when Cassidy entered the office.
“Hey, Janet. I got your message. You wanted me to come in early?” Cassidy paused at the door to take in the full essence of Janet’s new hairstyle.
“Are you doing all right after yesterday’s unfortunate incident?” Janet asked, running her thick fingers through a mess of dried-out tresses. “I was out getting my hair done when I heard about Francine.”
“Uh, yeah, it was pretty awful. I think JJ’s more shaken up than I am.” What exactly did one say about hair like that? “Your, um ... beautician really outdid herself this time.” At least the mullet was a decade closer to being in style than the previous clip Janet had sported. Had it been anything else, Cassidy might have mentioned it.
“My hair-girl, Carla, said the color will fade a bit after I wash it a few times. Looks like I’ll be using less shampoo than usual; I’m not made of money, you know. I wasn’t sure if the color worked with my skin tone, but it’s growing on me.”
“Well, not everyone can pull off one really bold color, let alone two completely different ones, like you have. Platinum blonde and bright orange always makes me think of Halloween. It’s beautiful that time of year, don’t you think?”
Janet paused to consider Cassidy’s last comment. “I do love candy.”
“Was there anything else you needed, Janet?”
“Normally, a death is a lot of paperwork, but since she was already dead and you’re not charging for your visit, I guess that’s good enough for me. Having said that, though, I have to warn you, until this case is solved, you and JJ are both on an unofficial probationary period.”
“What the hell does that mean? And why aren’t you telling JJ this, too?”
“Because I want you to break the news to him. Quite frankly... I don’t want to watch him cry.”
“Oh great. Leave it to me to break the bad news. So, what does the probationary period mean, exactly?”
“If either of you end up arrested for this crime—or any other crime, for that matter—you’ll immediately be fired. The company wants to keep its name as far away from this horrible incident as possible.”
“Anything else I need to know about?”
“Yes. The police called and wanted to ask you some more questions. Get that done today. We’re pretty busy around here, and I can’t have you wasting time on frivolous pursuits.”
“Frivolous—?” Cassidy blinked. How was answering questions from the police a frivolous pursuit?
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” Cassidy said. “I’ll wait for JJ to come in, and we’ll head down to the police station. I hate it when JJ rides the bus to work.” She left the smelly closet-sized office. “Public transportation can be so dirty, and then he’ll want to get into my car.”
She pulled out her phone, and just as she was about to call JJ, the telltale sounds of Willow’s off-key singing floated down the hallway. Damn! She was too late; he’d been found. Maybe she’d still be able to help him, though.
Cassidy rushed down the corridor toward the main entryway, where JJ stood as stiff as a board, covered in glitter and fear while Willow lunged and kicked high into the air, singing at the top of her lungs in a language not of this planet. The gathering audience snickered, hiding their amusement behind clipboards and hands as a few more agonizing minutes passed. Finally, Willow ended her performance flat on her back, sweating and panting. Then, right when everyone thought it was safe to move, she sprang to her feet, screeched one final time, and blew a handful of glitter into JJ’s face.
“Ach—my eyes!” He wiped at the sticky little flecks of glitter and Willow skipped away.
Cassidy rushed over. “JJ, hey, I’m glad you’re here. As soon as you’re done cleaning this up, we need to go down to the police station and answer more questions.”
“Clean up?” He blinked away glitter infused tears. “I was just assaulted."
Cassidy chuckled and shook her head, she was just happy no one had been injured this time.
She turned to leave.
“Cassidy, please?”
At her best friend’s hurt expression, Cassidy’s resolve melted.
“Okay, but let’s make it fast. We really need to get going.” Cassidy pulled on a pair of latex gloves and began to pick up the shiny debris left in Willow’s wake.
CHAPTER 5
J
J hadn’t spoken more than two words to Cassidy since they’d gotten into the car and she’d told him of their unofficial probationary period. Their silence continued all the way to the police station. At least he wasn’t in tears, yet.
“Do you plan to sulk all day,” she said, “or can we go inside and act like adults?”
JJ turned, face revealing his emotional distress. He was such a straight-laced person, the mere thought of being in trouble at work seemed to have crushed his spirit.
Cassidy put the car in park, but kept the air conditioning running. “JJ, I’m serious. Janet said we aren’t actually in trouble. We just have to keep ourselves from being arrested and our jobs are secure.”
“Why on Earth would we get arrested? I mean, we had nothing to do with it!” He crossed his arms and wore a pitiful expression.
Cassidy sighed. “You’re right; we had nothing to do with it. Our greedy, self-absorbed company, is more interested in appearances than finding out the truth. But I’m in the same boat as you, and I’m not concerned.”
Yet JJ continued to huff about like a child, and his attitude was starting to grate on her n
erves.
Cassidy turned off the car, opened the door, and stepped into the heat. “Suit yourself, but I can’t do anything about it.” She slammed the door hard enough to rattle the windows.
“Cassidy, wait!” JJ hurried to catch up to her.
“Eh? What was that? Are you talking to me now?” She kept up a brisk pace to the police station’s front door.
“I’m not mad at you,” he said. “You know how I get sometimes.”
“It’ll all be okay...I promise.”
“Are you sure? What happens if we get fired? We’d be black-balled from ever working in Miami again.”
“Right, but you have to stop being such a baby about stuff. If we get fired, we have other options. We could move, or change careers. Remember last year, when you took that balloon-animal night class? I’ll bet there’s a traveling circus around here somewhere—”
“Can’t you be serious for a moment?”
“Sure, but that’s not as much fun. And it’s not going to get us anywhere. You’re my best friend and I’ll do everything I can to make sure we keep our jobs.”
“Best friends?”
Cassidy smiled. “Absolutely.”
JJ reached out to pat her shoulder, but pulled his hand back when Cassidy flinched. “Let’s go inside and get this over with,” he said, “then we can go get something to eat. A sandwich for me, and a shot of tequila for you?”
“Tequila does sound good, but it’s probably too early for that. I’ll keep it in mind, though, depending on how all of this goes. In the meantime, keep your head up... and open that door for me, please.”
“But you’re closer.”
“Hey, don’t push it, buddy. I’m not sure who’s touched that door. It is a police station, after all.”
JJ opened the door, and they walked inside. Hopefully the interrogation won’t last too long, Cassidy thought. She hadn’t had a drink before noon since college, but ever since JJ had mentioned it, she could almost taste the sour Margarita mix and the salty rim of the glass.
The Cure May Kill You: A Cassidy Hudson Mystery Page 3
