Chapter Eight
I strained to hear the brief, not so happy, conversation between Maddox and Solomon, barely audible from the bathroom where Lily gunked up my face. After a swooping layer of black eyeliner and retro red lips, and my hair rearranged to loose, we tripped back to the living room, where it was decided that Solomon would wait outside Flames and monitor our wires, listening in on everything we said and heard. The moment wires were mentioned, the four of us spent a couple of uncomfortable (for me) minutes assessing my costume. Every time I yanked the hem down, one hand holding the top up, I was less sure that it qualified as a dress. Maddox didn’t seem to mind until he saw Solomon looking long and appreciatively, and scowled at him.
"There's nowhere you can put a wire on her," pointed out Lily. “It’ll bug out.”
"It'll fit in her bra," said Maddox, seriously studying that region under the pretext of a technological emergency. At least, I think that’s what he was doing.
Solomon looked at the piece of kit in his hand, then to my bra region, and finally met my eyes. He smiled. I lost the ability to think for a few precious seconds as my breath quickened.
"I'll fit it," said Maddox, holding out his hand to Solomon.
“Where did you get that?” I asked, proffering my hand. I didn’t wait for an answer. "I'll fit it. Just tell me what to do," I said, trying not to think about Maddox's hands in my bra. Or Solomon's. Certainly not both at the same time! I bit the insides of my cheeks before they could flush as red as my lipstick.
A couple of instructions later, and the wire was transmitting and tucked, by my own hands, into the right cup, away from the sound of my heartbeat.
Solomon handed a similar one to Maddox, which he tucked under his t-shirt, fastening it to his chest with a piece of tape. After a couple of “One, two, one, twos,” we were happy they were working. Some creative shuffling later (me alone in the kitchen, Lily generously offering to help Maddox) and they were switched off until needed.
Lily zoomed off to change while we went through the plan. A short time later, she reappeared looking like an Asian dominatrix in a tight, rubber dress and a black bobbed wig, her lips blood red and her face pale. "Trust me, I will not look out of place," she said at my raised eyebrow. "I'm going to head out. There's a parking lot for employees. You'll be on the guest list under fake names and I’ll wave you through. I'll text you if Tallulah comes in." She clattered out, her spike heels sounding like daggers on the stairs as I wondered what else she had in her closet that I didn't know about.
We gave her an hour's head start before I jettisoned the hip-length cardigan I’d wrapped around myself in favor of a jacket. We clambered into Solomon's car, and I crossed my fingers that none of the neighbors would happen outside and see me dressed like a prostitute, despite the long coat thrown over me, as I climbed into the Lexus with two men.
Solomon drove without speaking, steering the sleek car with ease through the light evening traffic and pointing it downtown. He pulled into a space half a block from the club fifteen minutes after Lily said the doors opened.
"Seriously? You expect me to walk in these things?" I asked, pointing at the heels.
Solomon twisted around and looked down at them, his eyes running up my legs before fixing on my eyes. I shivered. "Can't you?"
"Not a half block. These are “get-in-a-car-get-out-of-a-car-and-pose” shoes." They were also “flat-on-your-back-heels-over-your-head” shoes, but I decided putting that image into Maddox and Solomon's minds probably wasn't the best idea. Lily, however, would have thought it was brilliant.
"I'll drop you outside when we're ready. You need help switching on the wire?" Solomon asked.
"No. I'm good." I wriggled out of my coat and placed it over my front, shuffling to get my hand inside my bra and switch the wire on. When I noticed Solomon watching me in the rearview mirror, I stuck my tongue out, just a little bit. He laughed, which surprised me into smiling. "Is it working?" I asked.
Solomon stuck an earbud into his ear and said, "Say something."
"C cup," I said.
"It works."
"Try mine." Maddox switched his wire on. "Eyes forward," he said.
"Not as flirty," said Solomon, "but it works."
"Safe word?"
"Scarlet."
"Done."
"Pardon? Safe word?" I asked.
Maddox twisted in his seat. "In case we get any trouble. Just work 'scarlet' into a sentence and Solomon will be alerted that we need help. It's not a typical conversational word, but it's not so crazy that it would make anyone suspicious."
"Okay. Scarlet it is."
Solomon extracted a passport-sized photograph from his jacket pocket and passed it to me. "This is a recent shot of Dean. Find someone who recognizes him and can point out Tallulah."
I took it and slipped it into the tiny purse I carried. It was just large enough to hold my lipstick, a few dollars, my cell phone and bank card. "Anything else?"
"That's all for you." Solomon checked the traffic, pulled out and drove the half block before swerving to the curb and letting us out. "I won't be far," he said, quickly glancing at me. I think he was trying to reassure me.
Flames’ entrance was an anonymous black door set into a brick wall. A small emblem of a flame on the front was the only clue. Maddox gave the handle a tug and it opened. With Maddox in front, we walked up the stairs to the booth at the top where Lily waited. Before we could say anything, she checked our fake names off the guest list, stamped the backs of our hands with a flame stamp, visible only under the blacklight wand she waved over top, before signaling we could go in. The tuxedoed hulking wall of a doorman opened the door for us. I didn't even have a chance to ask if she had seen our mystery woman before she turned to a woman in a leather trenchcoat who entered right behind us.
Throbbing techno music assaulted us as soon as we entered and a sea of scantily clad bodies, both male and female, paraded in a wave of human flesh. Lily was right. My bra, hotpants and skintight dress combo was positively overdressed compared to the buttless chaps, skimpy lingerie, PVC and rubberwear, stomach-roilingly worn by both sexes. I could see dancers on a far stage performing, their movements fluid and spry as they dipped and swung around poles. A small dance floor divided them from us. Beneath the sparkling disco ball, couples gyrated, their hands freely roaming the places that should not be groped in public.
"Montgomery has a wild side," I said against Maddox's ear and he shot me a bemused glance.
"Let's start at the bar," he said, nodding in the direction of where I assumed he could see the bar over the small crowd blocking the way. As we pushed past, hands seemed to find their way onto my butt, brushing over my thighs and arms, each receiving a sharp jab from me.
As we proceeded, I turned and saw a woman bent over a chair, which wouldn't have been interesting at all, if not for the Victorian-costumed woman spanking her enthusiastically with a ping-pong paddle.
I stumbled and Maddox caught me, yanking me past the line of the onlookers. "Make mine a double," I said.
"I think a man just groped me," said Maddox, worried lines furrowing his forehead.
"Everyone just groped me," I muttered. Somewhere, not far away, I imagined Solomon smiling.
The bar was several people deep. When I felt a hand on my arm, I jumped, expecting another groper, but instead found Lily. "Your table is ready," she said, her Geisha lips pursed. She cracked a whip. I blinked. Where had my friend gone?
"Our what?" I wheezed as she recoiled the whip.
"Your reservation is ready," she repeated slowly, flashing wide ‘get with it’ eyes before beckoning us to follow her to a small booth. As we sat down, I realized I could see across the small dance floor to the corridors that sprang off at the far end: the bar and the "entertainment" areas. We had an excellent view of the club. I sent Lily a mental pat on the head. "Your waitress will take your drinks order shortly." And with that, Lily was gone. I noticed no one dared grope her and the one hand tha
t did get too close got a sharp sting from her whip.
"Can you imagine you-know-who in here?" I said to Maddox as he edged closer to me, his forearms resting on the table. He clasped his hands together. I felt grateful that he blocked me mostly from viewing the club, even if I were tempted to peek. Montgomery was a lot more exciting than I gave it credit for, I decided, when a man in a rubber mask and hotpants stalked past. "I wonder what Dean wore."
"I'm trying not to think about it."
"Do you think he was a rubber man or chaps?"
"Jeez."
"PVC must get pretty hot in here." I mimed peeling it off, my tongue making a wet, popping sound.
"Sounds like you know what you're talking about."
"Me?” I shook my head. “Heavens, no."
"Maybe he wore a rubber thong like that guy." Maddox nodded and I shuddered the moment my eyes hit on the skinny man in, yes, a rubber thong, incongruously paired with a pair of dress shoes and black socks.
"I didn't need to see that."
“No one does.”
A woman in a black tutu with a frilly apron and an impossibly small-waisted bustier, which she was nearly popping out of suddenly blocked out our view. "I'm Ruby. Can I take your order?" she asked, before blowing a very large bubble of pink gum, which deflated after a loud pop. She sucked it in and gave us an expectant look.
I pulled the photo of Martin Dean out of my little bag and placed it flat on the table. "Actually. Maybe you can help me. Do you know this man?" I asked. Okay, it wasn’t subtle but I bet my tiny dress that if anyone would recognize our man, it would be the waitress.
Ruby studied it for a moment. Her jaw stiffened and she glanced at me, then somewhere across the room, and back again. "I'm not sure," she said finally, looking from Maddox and back to me with suspicion. "What'll it be?"
Instead of a flash of uncertainty, I thought she sounded pretty definite. I rooted in my bag, pulled out a folded twenty and slid it next to the picture. "How about now?"
Ruby palmed the money in a smooth movement and it disappeared. "Yeah, he's a regular. I don't see him tonight and he's usually here by now. What did he do to you? Get a bit too frisky in the dungeon? Boyfriend gonna spank him back?"
"Uh, no.” The idea of Maddox spanking anyone had not crossed my mind until that very moment. But now… I thought about Solomon snorting as he listened. This was a bad idea. Now, he would really think I was stupid. I took a deep breath and persisted, “Actually, I'm more interested in the woman he came with. What can you tell me about her?" Also: what was Dean into? And what was the dungeon? I had to ask Lily. Frankly, I had so much to ask her, I should make a list.
Ruby glanced up, quickly looking around the room, then pulled out her pen and pad. "You gotta order drinks," she said, her voice rising above the thump-thump of the track playing.
"Are we being watched?" asked Maddox.
She smiled brightly like we'd just complimented her. Definitely the right question. "You betcha. My boss likes to make money not small talk."
"Okay. Let's discuss the cocktail list..." I picked the menu off the table, adding, "and the woman."
"She's about my height. Red hair in a bob, though I think it's a wig. A lot younger than him," Ruby said, tapping her pen on the cocktail menu as though giving advice.
"Is she here tonight?"
"Yeah. I saw her ten minutes ago."
"Where?" I asked.
"She was at the bar. There was another guy with her. Not that dude.” She nodded at the photo. “She’s with a short guy."
"What did he look like?"
"Kinda average. White guy. Thirties, maybe. I wasn't really looking. You don't here, ya know. Unless, you... ya know."
I got her point. I didn't want to “ya know.” I darted a look at Maddox. Not in public anyway. "Where'd they go?" I asked.
"I dunno." She tapped her pen on the pad impatiently. "C'mon guys, you gotta order or I'll get in trouble."
"Martini," I said, placing the menu I held on the table, right over the photo, which I palmed just as smoothly.
"And a beer," added Maddox.
She jotted our order down. "Coming right up," she said, turning on her heel and sashaying away, her hips wiggling like nobody's business.
"We need to find this woman," said Maddox.
"And the guy," I said. "You think he's here for the spanky-panky? Or is he part of the gang?"
"I’m not sure I want to guess." All the while Maddox talked, his head was facing me, but I could see his eyes roaming the room. "I don't see her," he told me. He relaxed, resting his back against the padded upholstery of the booth.
Ruby, the waitress, returned, cutting off his view and we waited while she lay down cocktail napkins and our drinks. As she slid my martini in front of me, she whispered, "I just saw the woman go down the hall towards the ladies’ room. The guy was with her. Not the one in the picture, the one she's here with tonight. I think he’s new. He had that look about him." She looked pointedly at us. Yeah, okay, so we stuck out.
"Thanks," said Maddox as he slipped her enough money to cover the drinks and a tip. At this rate, the waitress was going to be our best friend the whole night. Not that I planned on staying that long.
"The sooner we find this woman and find out what's going on, the better," I said, after taking a sip of my martini.
"Whoa. There's no 'we' here," said Maddox. “We find this woman. You go home. We take her in for questioning.”
I raised my eyebrows. "No way! You wouldn't have gotten in here without me. And you're sure as hell not getting into the ladies' bathroom." Hah. Take that, Maddox. I got up, grabbing my purse, but before I could slide around the other side of the booth, Maddox caught me by the wrist.
"Fine. I'm coming with you," he said. "I'll wait in the hall. Don't approach her. Just make sure she's in there, then come out as soon as she leaves. I'll catch her outside."
"Okay." We walked hand-in-hand to the narrow hallway that veered off, away from the dance floor, towards the bathrooms.
Just as we entered the hallway, I caught a flash of red hair by the door to the ladies’. I hurried forward, teetering in the stripper heels. A groping couple peeled away from the wall, blocking our view momentarily, and we stepped past them, avoiding eye contact when they turned to assess us. Behind them, the hallway was empty. A thought occurred to me. I really, really hoped I wasn't about to walk in on the red head and her new man doing the nasty in a public restroom, but my nosiness won out. Plastering on my game face, I ducked inside the bathroom and walked forward, hips about three inches ahead of my icked-out face and pulled-back shoulders, poised to leave the moment I heard any humping.
"Hello?" I called.
I pushed the first stall door and it opened, clanking against the stall divider before swinging shut again. Empty. I tried the second, then third. At the fourth, I got something. No woman in a red bob, but the lid of the toilet tank was slightly askew. I stepped inside and looked closer. I could see small scrape marks around the edges. The lid hadn't been moved by accident, but worked off. I peeked inside, but couldn't see anything except water and the flush mechanism.
Stepping out of the stall, I looked around. No one was in the bathroom and there weren't any security cameras.
My reflection in the mirrors frowned back at me. There was only one reason someone would have fiddled with the toilet tank on a club night, other than to fix it. It was the perfect place to hide something small.
I left the bathroom and rested my back against the wall, next to Maddox, leaning in to talk to him. "No one's in there," I said. "But I think something was hidden in one of the toilet tanks—the lid was off—and whatever it was, the red head's got it."
Maddox scanned the hallway towards the dance floor and didn’t say anything about how farfetched my idea seemed, which gave him extra points. "She didn't come back out this way," he said, turning to look the other way, past me. He jerked forward, stepping past me, and jogged along the hallway. I followed him thr
ough an “Employees Only” door at the end, and saw a dark blur then a flash of red. Someone squealed. A bang, barely audible over the pumping music, rang out and Maddox broke into a run as a rush of light suddenly lit up the room as the exterior door opened and banged shut.
I barreled as fast as I could on high heels out of the emergency exit moments after Maddox. The cold night air blasted over me as I found myself on a small iron platform, one story up. I just had time to look down, see Maddox jump the last few steps off the fire escape and race into the alley, swallowed up in the darkness.
I turned, my arm knocking the door, and it banged shut. An alarm sounded inside, probably alerting someone that a door had unexpectedly opened. I sighed and looked down. Maddox was off chasing someone, and I had no hope of keeping up in the heels. I gave the door a hopeful tug, but it was shut tight.
Shivering against the cold, I wrapped my arms around myself and tutted. The only way forward was down, unless I wanted to wait for whomever to come and investigate the door opening. Clinging onto the railings, I made my way down the rickety fire escape, my spiked heels catching in the steps’ iron mesh surfaces. As I hit ground zero, I pulled a face and groaned. I landed in something soft on putting my foot down. Typical. Maddox got to run after the bad guy. I got to stand in garbage, wearing a hooker dress.
Looking around me at the litter-strewn dark alley, the overflowing dumpster probably the source of the disgustingly ripe smell, I knew I was stuck. Running into the dark would be as stupid as standing still. My best hope was to make my way to the front of the club and find Lily, or wait for Maddox to pick me up there.
I took a couple of steps forward, stumbled, and with both arms flailing to steady myself, I tripped and landed palms down. "Oh, great," I mumbled in annoyance as I peeled my hands off something dark and sticky. I hoped I hadn't cut myself in the fall because God knows what was breeding in this alley, seeking a human host.
I rocked backwards, crouched on my haunches and took a deep breath, preparing to wobble back to my feet. I brushed my hands against my hotpants, my dress somewhere around my hips. I looked for something to grab onto and help me up.
My breath caught.
A pale leg protruded across the alley. Not a mannequin, not a fake limb, but something fleshy and undeniably human. Worst of all, it wasn't moving. I followed the line of the leg, past a limp knee to a scrap of fabric and higher up until I saw her face.
There was no way the red head was ever going to talk. She sat like a ragdoll propped against the wall, her fists clenched to her sides, her red wig slightly askew. Blood trickled from her mouth and dripped onto her top. Her chest bore an unmistakable bullet wound, leaving the flesh puckered around the hole. I froze, unable to move, but unable to look away. She was dead.
"Deep breaths," I whispered, trying to focus on breathing in and out as my stomach heaved and I turned away.
Maddox would not be a wimp. Maddox would look for a clue. I steeled myself as I turned back to her. Yep. Still dead. I edged closer and looked over her, when I noticed something jutting out of her hands. I reached forward gingerly and grasped the object, giving it a little tug. It slipped through her still warm fingers. In my hand, I had a small silver key ring, no fob. Flicking through them, feeling awful, I guessed the keys were to her house, her car, and two smaller ones, probably locker keys. I forced myself to check her other palm, and this time, I found a single small key. I snatched my hand back and stared at her.
God. I’d just robbed a body. Sort of.
Something rustled behind me and I glanced over my shoulder in alarm, expecting to find the shadow of her murderer looming over me. Nothing. No Maddox. No mystery man. No Solomon. Now would be the perfect time for Solomon. What was the safe word again? I scrabbled through my memory, gulping.
"Scarlet," I whispered, hoping the receiver picked up my voice. "Scarlet! Very, very scarlet," I squeaked.
The shivering took on a life of its own, and feeling sick to my stomach, I straightened up, subconsciously yanking the dress hem to a more appropriate length.
My hunch about the red head was right. Whatever happened to Martin Dean, she knew something. Maybe she knew who killed him, or what he was involved in. I looked at the single, solitary key in my hand. Perhaps he had trusted her to look after something for him? We were just too late.
Instinct kicked in and I moved the opposite direction from Maddox, to what I felt sure was the front of the club. Tripping and stumbling as I came out of the alley, I staggered into a wall of a man and almost shrieked. My fists reflexively moved to sucker punch him until I looked up and saw it was Solomon.
Throwing myself at him, I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on, relief washing through me. After a moment of him standing still and I feeling too relieved to be awkward, he put his arms around me and held me close to him. My head rested against his warm chest as his hand stroked my back. Slowly, the violent shivering stopped.
"I heard gun shots through the wire," he said. “I was looking for you when you said the safe word.”
"Back there. The woman we were looking for. Tallulah. She's dead," I gasped into his shirt, clutching the material in my fingers. I had no idea how my hands ended up inside his jacket and chose not to care. He was warm, familiar… he wasn’t going to shoot me. "Shot," I squeaked, blinking rapidly at the recollection of her face, frozen in death. “Someone shot her.”
The back-stroking didn’t stop, even as he asked, "Maddox?"
"We saw someone and he chased after him. He isn’t armed! Maddox that is. Maddox isn’t armed and the other guy has a gun!" Panic streaked through my voice as I babbled.
Solomon maneuvered me towards the building and detached himself, which was quite a feat given my limpet-like grip on him. Holding me by the arms, he bent his head and looked into my eyes. "I’m sure Maddox is armed. He’ll be fine. Stay here. Don't move," he ordered, “I’m going to check.” He took off down the alley, returning a couple of minutes later, his demeanor sober. "Let's get out of here," he said, folding me into him, only his presence stopping my knees from buckling. "Backup's on its way."
The Lexus was parked in an alley a hundred feet away. Solomon deposited me inside and went in search of Maddox. I sat huddled in the front seat, feeling cold and exposed in the skimpy garments. More than anything, I was just frightened. I scoured every shadow for the whites of a killer’s eyes, every nook for a crouching figure, expecting the mystery man to leap out at any moment, his gun aimed at me. In his other hand would be Maddox’s severed head. I squeezed my eyes shut.
So when the door opened, I jumped a mile. But instead of a murderer, it was Solomon. Not that his presence stopped my shivering that started up again with a vengeance. He closed the door and slipped off his jacket. Reaching over to me, he wrapped it around my shoulders. I pulled it close, and for a moment, I just closed my eyes, with my head bowed, my knees knocking together. The jacket smelled of him, fresh with the faintest scent of spice and warmed by his body heat. When I opened my eyes, he was still sitting there, just waiting patiently.
"Is Maddox okay?" I asked, afraid of what he might tell me.
"He's fine. He's waiting for the police." Solomon slipped the key in and the engine turned over. "You don't need to be part of that."
I glanced at his shadowed face. "But I found her."
"And you shouldn't have."
"I'm part of the crime scene."
"And Maddox is the police," Solomon pointed out. "I'm taking you home. No arguments."
I was too shaken up to protest. "Okay," I whispered. Reaching inside my top, I pulled out the wire, switched it off and held it until Solomon gently took it from me and pocketed it. He pulled the seatbelt around me and buckled it, making sure his jacket was still tucked around me.
Solomon turned the heat on and pointed the vents at me, warming me up. He drove slowly out of the alley between the buildings and didn't turn the lights on until we hit the street. We rode in silence all the way home. He parked outside my buil
ding, shutting off the engine and walked around to open my door.
Still stunned, I took his hand and held onto it as he followed me to the door, and stayed behind me as I walked up to my apartment, opening the locks like a robot, thoroughly attuned to doing it automatically.
"I'll be okay from here," I said.
"All the same, I'd rather make sure."
I stepped inside and held the door open for Solomon to pass through. I followed him into the living room and sank onto the couch. I pulled off my ridiculous shoes and tossed them into the corner; then I shrugged off Solomon's jacket and folded it over the arm of the couch.
"I've gotta get out of this," I said, waving a hand at my outfit. It seemed puerile, after seeing the dead woman, for me to be dressed up, like I was playing undercover spy in a game. More than anything, seeing her dead eyes drove it home that this wasn't fun. It wasn't a break from real life. It wasn’t pleasurable anymore or something to entertain Lily with or to stop me from being bored at the office. Someone was killing people and it was too close to comfort for me.
I took a deep breath, swore I wouldn't cry in front of Solomon and retreated to my bedroom. I peeled off the dress and hotpants, tossing them into the hamper. Something dropped to the floor and I blinked at the noise, then looked down. I'd forgotten all about finding the keys. Stooping down, I picked them up, and for a moment, just held them while trying not to break down. I wanted to pull on my jammies and crawl into bed, squeeze my eyes shut and pretend it was a nightmare, but I couldn't do that with Solomon waiting in the living room. So, instead, I pulled on jeans, a sweatshirt and thick socks and went into the bathroom to scrub off the makeup and wash my hands.
I took my time, half expecting Solomon to leave, but when I returned to the living room, he was waiting for me. Sitting half reclined in the armchair, one leg slung casually over the other, his hands folded behind his head, he looked utterly at ease.
"I'm feeling better," I said. "You really don't need to babysit me."
"I know," he said, but didn't make any gesture to leave.
"Beer?" I suggested, because I sure as hell needed one. The wine earlier and the sip of martini weren't enough to fortify me. Ethanol would probably have worked, but I was fresh out.
"Sounds good."
I padded out of the living room and opened the refrigerator, skirting past the leftovers tub from my mother to reach the beer. Maddox’s and my plates were by the sink, but I would deal with those in the morning. I pulled out two bottles for Solomon and me, snapping the caps off before walking back into the living room. I flopped onto the couch, passing a bottle to Solomon, as I took a long swig on mine. I was really tempted to chug it.
"Tell me what happened," said Solomon when I opened my eyes again.
I told him about seeing the woman, then checking out the bathroom and finding the toilet tank lid askew, but she was already gone. I told him Maddox spotted them heading out back and followed the couple out to the alley when we heard the shot. "If we assume Dean was part of the fraud, and she was his girlfriend or something, he must have given her something to hide," I said, "But I don't know what. It must have been really small."
"Or in a waterproof bag," suggested Solomon.
"I guess. Whatever it was, Dean didn't want to keep it at home or at work." I took another swallow. "You heard everything the waitress told us. Any clues?"
"Not one."
"This sucks." I pulled the keys out of my jeans pocket and passed them to Solomon. "These were in Tallulah's hand when I found her and this little key too. I don't know why I picked them up. I just did."
Solomon examined them and came to the same conclusion as me. "House and car keys. I'll let Maddox know to look out for her car. It's probably parked nearby. What are the smaller keys?"
"You tell me. Maybe a locker?"
"Too small."
I straightened up. "Could it be something useful?"
"Maybe."
"You think Lily is okay?" I felt bad for leaving her behind, even though I knew she had her own car parked in the employee's secure lot and planned to drive home alone anyway at closing time, long after we were gone.
"Maddox called while you were in the bedroom. The club's been shut down and everyone has been detained. Your friend is still there."
"I've seen two dead people in a week," I said, draining my bottle. "Have you seen dead people?"
"Too many."
"Oh." It was probably best not to dwell on that. “Is Solomon your first name or last?”
“Last.”
“What’s your first?”
He looked at me for a long time. Just when I started to regret asking, he said softly, “John.”
Maddox arrived an hour, and two beers, later. After a brief discussion in hushed voices in the hallway, Solomon left without saying goodbye, although I didn't have the energy to be irked, and Maddox walked in.
"How're you holding up?" he asked, sitting next to me and pulling me into his arms.
I held up my bottle and gave him a lopsided smile. "Marvelous," I said with a hiccup, then a yawn. The fright had worn off and sleep beckoned. I hoped I wouldn’t dream tonight. "What happened?"
"I saw the guy and ran after him, but he gave me the slip so I walked back to where I left you, but you'd gone and Solomon was there. The body you found was Tallulah, Dean's girlfriend."
"I guessed. She was shot." Of course, he knew that. He’d seen her. I just couldn’t get past it.
"The crime scene investigators are doing their thing and Montgomery PD are questioning everyone in the building. Lily won't be home for a while, but I had someone check on her and she's okay."
"Why didn't you stay?" I waited for him to say, ‘because he wanted to be with me.’
"I didn't want to blow my cover."
Oh, well.
"Did you see who shot her?"
"Barely. White guy, shorter than me. Almost certainly the same man the waitress saw."
"So that narrows it down to, what? Forty percent of Montgomery?"
"Yeah."
I thought about that for a moment. Whoever this guy was, he would be almost impossible to find, given our vague description. I doubted anyone in the club saw anything, except maybe the waitress. Everyone else was concentrating on the performers or bumping and grinding on the dance floor. If he were an average guy, no one would have paid him a second glance. Our best witness was dead. For the second time, I thought about the keys.
"I found keys in her hand and gave them to Solomon."
"He said. Maybe she was getting ready to go back to her car or..."
"Maybe she thought she could fight the guy off?"
"With just her keys?"
"It would be the only weapon she had." I made a jabbing motion.
"Some weapon," said Maddox.
I uncurled my legs and walked into the kitchen, pouring myself a large glass of water. Maddox followed me and leaned against the doorjamb, waiting.
"You know, a key could have been hidden in the toilet tank," I said. "It's small. It wouldn't be damaged by the water. If Dean trusted her and he knew she could only hide something in there if he were with her, and could only pick it up if she had a guy, him, with her, he might have had her hide something,” I babbled. “He might figure it was safer than keeping it at home or the office."
Maddox nodded. "Sounds plausible. I'll check with the M.E. to see if her hands were wet when they got to her."
"That wouldn't matter," I pointed out. "She could have dried her hands on her dress or a paper towel."
"Why didn't her attacker take the key with him, if that's what he wanted?"
"Maybe we disturbed him?" I suggested. "It could only have been seconds between her getting shot and you running outside."
"I didn't even see her. I just took off after him. He could have grabbed it from her."
"Maybe she wouldn't give it up. Maybe she knew he would kill her if she gave it to him. Maybe she was bargaining?"
"There wasn't a
lot of time to bargain," Maddox pointed out.
"Not by the time they were outside," I said. I drank the water and turned to pour myself another glass. I didn't want a hangover in the morning on top of everything else. "Maybe she was bargaining the whole time? 'I'll get you the key—if that's what it was—and you let me live.' That sort of thing."
"But she had her keys in her hand."
I smiled. "The guy didn't go into the bathroom though. He waited outside, like you did. Tallulah could have gone in and switched the keys. She could have put the mystery key on her keyring and given him a different one. One of them wasn’t on her keyring. Or maybe she just wanted to confuse him."
"Why would she do that?"
"Bargaining still, or to confuse him," I said. "He might not have known what he was looking for. Or maybe she didn't know Dean was dead yet."
"Maybe."
"Maybe she wouldn't give up the keys," I continued, even though I started to think we were talking in circles now, "so the murderer had to kill her too. What if he was going to grab them when we came out? He'd have to take off when he saw you."
"If that's true. He'll still need the key. It's a long shot."
"What would he need to do to get the keys now? If that's what he wanted all along?"
"Normally, they'd go with the body to the morgue. The M.E. would put all the effects together for the next of kin, if we don't need it as evidence. If it's evidence, it goes to the evidence locker."
"So... if he hasn't gotten them already, there's no way he could get the key now Solomon has them?"
"It's unlikely," agreed Maddox. "You did right picking them up."
It didn't feel right, not one bit, plucking the keys out of Tallulah's dead hands.