At the Drop of a Hat (19 page)

“Even when it isn't,” I added.

We were both silent, taking in the sounds of the night. I realized that I was across the small backyard from where Russo's body had been found. I was relieved that I couldn't see more than shadows in the dark. I really didn't want to remember the sight of his body broken and bloody on the cobblestones beneath it.

“He died right there,” I said.

Viv pressed closer to me, and I felt her hand reach for mine in the dark. Her fingers were icy cold, and I shivered even as I tried to warm her hand with mine.

“Let's get this over with, shall we?” Viv asked.

“Yes, let's,” I agreed. Suddenly I was feeling spooked. Not that I thought Russo was haunting the place of his death or anything like that, still I had no interest in lingering.

We went to the back door together. The keypad was just to the right under a small lid. I flipped the cover up and then entered the code that Ariana had given us. I heard the lock pop on the door, and Viv and I exchanged a quick look before I opened the door and pushed it in.

We were in the small kitchenette. I didn't think we'd find anything here so I pushed on through and up the short flight of stairs. We went down the hallway, passing a bathroom, again not really a place I felt the need to check, and into the main part of the house.

“Where should we start?” Viv asked.

“Let's go upstairs,” I said. “Russo lived up there; maybe we'll find some connection to Mariska.”

We crossed the sitting room and went through the door that led upstairs. It looked like someone had left the hall light on, probably for security, which made it easy to climb the stairs.

Russo's apartment was pretty much exactly what you'd expect of a confirmed bachelor and player: black leather furniture, a large bar along one wall and an enormous television. There were no pictures or personal effects. It could have been a hotel room, except a hotel would be warmer and more welcoming.

We did a cursory check of drawers but there was nothing. Even his magazines were scrupulously maintained with no back issues stuffed in nooks and crannies. His kitchen looked as if no one ever actually used it.

We hurried upstairs to the bedrooms. One was overdone with black satin sheets and a mirror for a headboard. Ew. The other was clearly a guest room. We concentrated on the icky bedroom. The closet was as meticulously kept as the rest of the house. No pictures, no mementos, no indication that an actual person lived here.

“Gah!” Viv made a gurgling noise from beside the big bed.

“Did you find something?” I asked as I hurried over.

She slammed the drawer on his nightstand before I could glance inside it.

“His porn and sex toy collection,” Viv said. Her upper lip was curled in distaste.

“Ew,” I said.

“Well, it's the first thing we've found that indicates a person actually lives here,” Viv said. “A perverted person but a person nonetheless.”

“I don't think all porn is perverted,” I said.

Viv gave me a long look. “No.”

“What?” I asked.

“I'm not getting into a discussion with you about what is acceptable and what is unacceptable porn,” she said.

“What discussion?” I asked. “I'm just saying some porn is not that bad.”

“Because you've seen so much porn,” Viv said.

“I've seen my share,” I said.

“Well, I think it's safe to say we Brits are a little bit more open minded sexually than you Americans, so if I think his porn drawer is unseemly, then you can trust me,” Viv said.

This just made me all the more curious.

“Do you have a porn drawer?” I asked. Yes, I was just teasing her.

To my surprise, her face went bright pink, yes, so pink I could even see it in the dim lighting.

“I am not discussing this,” Viv said. “Let's go check the offices.”

She stomped out of the room, leaving me to follow her.

“I have a porn drawer,” I called after her. It's mostly made up of a collection of my favorite erotic novels, but she didn't need to know that.

“Shut up, Scarlett,” she said.

When I joined her in the offices below, it was easy to see that the police had done a thorough search of both Ariana's and Russo's offices. Their computers were gone and so were any papers off the tops of their desks.

“I'll take Russo's office,” Viv said. She disappeared through the door and I saw her switch on his desk light.

I turned back to Ariana's office. Her windows were right on the street so I didn't dare turn on the desk lamp. Instead, I used the face of my cell phone to illuminate the immediate area.

I sat in her chair and began opening her desk drawers. There wasn't much, and I had a feeling the police had probably taken anything of note, but still it felt like there had to be something—some clue.

Several minutes passed and I became more and more discouraged. Viv appeared in the doorway between the two offices.

“There's nothing,” she said. “Nothing that indicates any connection between Russo and Mariska.”

“I suppose it was too much to hope for,” I said. “Why couldn't it be a Cinderella story where we find a shoe and the only one it belongs to is Mariska?”

“And what?” Viv asked. “The heel of the shoe matches a puncture mark in Russo's behind where she booted him off the roof?”

“Exactly,” I said. “Is that asking so much?”

Viv checked the time on her phone. “The bars will be closing soon and there might be more foot traffic in the neighborhood. We should go.”

“All right,” I agreed. I closed up Ariana's desk, feeling disappointed.

I followed Viv out, making sure the room looked just as we'd found it. Hanging on a rack by her office door was the blue raincoat Ariana had been wearing when she first came to see us. I took it off the hook and draped it over my arm. At the very least, I could return her jacket to her and the night wasn't a total loss.

Unless, of course, she ended up being convicted of murder and I never got to give her the jacket. Yeah, sometimes I go to the darkest of places.

Viv and I stepped outside and I quickly reset the alarm. Although we hadn't been inside for that long, it was definitely colder out now. I shrugged on Ariana's jacket. I was sure she wouldn't mind.

I tripped on a cobblestone and stumbled into Viv. She caught me and held my hand.

“Easy does it,” she said.

We felt our way to the gate and Viv reached up to unlatch it.

She opened it just enough to be able to peek out into the alley.

“It's clear,” she said.

I followed her out and quickly shut the gate behind me. We began to work our way down the alley when an angry voice broke through the quiet like a fist pounding on a table.

“What the devil do you two think you're doing?”

I'm not sure who shrieked louder, Viv or me; probably it was me. Clutching each other, we scrambled backward until the wall was at our backs. I let go of Viv and assumed a fighter's stance.

“Run for help!” I ordered Viv. She looked at me as if I were mental. Not terribly off base of her, was it?

Then Harrison stomped out of the shadows and I felt a surge of really freaking mad blast me right between the eyes. I stepped forward and slapped his shoulder with my right hand while checking my heart rate with my left.

“Damn it, Harry,” I cried. “You scared me half to death.”

“Harrison,” he said. Then he rubbed his shoulder. “Nice punch.”

“It was a slap,” I said. “A deserved one.”

“Really?” he asked. “Because correct me if I'm wrong but didn't we three agree to tell each other if we went off to do some investigating?”

“I wrote you a text,” I said.

“No, you didn't,” he said.

“Yes, I did,” I argued. I pulled out my phone to prove it to him and found the text message sitting there unsent just as I'd left it. I turned the display to face him so he could see my intentions had been good. Thank goodness I'd had the sense to write the text earlier and save it.

“It helps if you actually send it.” He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. I got the feeling he doubted me and I didn't like that one bit.

“I meant to!” I protested.

“Uh-huh,” he said.

“Do you suppose you two could lace into each other elsewhere?” Viv asked. “I don't think loitering around here is very wise.”

“Come along then,” Harrison said. “I have my car. You can explain yourselves on the drive.”

I might have been annoyed with him but I was thrilled that he had his car. I was dead tired and the thought of hoofing it back to the shop didn't work for me.

Harrison helped Viv into the passenger seat and then held the door to the back open for me. I briefly wondered if this was a statement on the hierarchy of our friendship, Viv getting the front because they'd been friends longer, before I realized that I was so tired, I didn't even care.

Okay, I did care but not enough to let it show. I rested my head on the seatback and listened while Viv recounted our night's adventures. Harrison was much more civil with her than with me. He actually sounded admiring of her putting herself in jeopardy to help Ariana any way she could. It made me want to kick the back of his seat, but I resisted.

Instead I buried my hands into Ariana's coat pockets to warm them. There was a single knit glove, odd, and a crumpled bit of paper in the pocket. Curious. I pulled the paper out. I smoothed it on my lap and tried to read it under the passing streetlights. Finally, Harrison stopped at a light and I pulled out my cell phone to illuminate the paper.

It took me a moment, but I realized it was a dry cleaner's receipt. It listed two suits, several men's shirts and a woman's blouse. The name on the receipt was “Anthony Russo.”

Now why would Ariana have a dry-cleaning receipt for Russo? I supposed it wasn't out of bounds for her to have to pick up Russo's laundry but it did seem an awfully twentieth-century girl Friday sort of chore. Then again, Russo was a bit of an asshat, so I supposed he might have made her do it for him.

“All right, Ginger?” Harrison asked from the front seat.

I glanced up from the paper. He was just pulling up in front of Mim's Whims. Without waiting for him to get my door, I popped out of the car.

“Never better,” I said through the open door. “I just found a clue.”

I shut the car door and strode into the shop, barely breaking my stride to unlock the door and deactivate the alarm.

Viv came hurrying after me, but Harrison took his time, obviously not in any rush to hear my news. Well, it would serve him right if I didn't tell him what I'd found.

Harrison locked the door behind him when he entered the shop. He was looking at me in amusement and it was then that I realized he didn't think I had a clue at all. He thought I was teasing them. Well, I'd show him.

We all moved into the back workroom. Viv grabbed a bottle of Jameson that we kept in the workroom for just such emergencies and three small glasses.

“My nerves are shot,” she said. “I need to fortify before we hear about your clue.”

She uncapped the bottle and splashed a finger into each glass.

“Your health,” she said, and without waiting to clink glasses or anything, she threw the shot back. She sputtered and choked and blinked watery eyes at us, but the color came back into her pale face.

Harrison and I both followed suit with our glasses. I didn't down mine in one swallow but rather sipped at it. I was too excited to share my find to need a drink to calm my nerves.

Viv stared at the bottle as if considering another shot. I moved the bottle away from her.

“Do you really want to repeat yesterday?” I asked.

She shuddered. “No, you're right. I'm good.”

“Good, then look at this,” I said. I pulled the receipt out of my pocket and put it on the counter.

Harrison and Viv both leaned over and studied it. Viv looked at me first with a frown.

“What does it mean?” she asked.

“That Ariana was picking up his cleaning,” I said.

“Not out of order for an assistant,” Harrison said. I frowned at him and he added, “Not that I would ever ask someone to do that for me but it's not unheard of.”

“It's more than that, though,” I said. “Look at the items. It says one woman's blouse.”

“Still not following you,” Viv said with a shake of her head.

“We have to find out who the blouse belonged to,” I said. “It could link Russo to Mariska in a more intimate manner than she's admitting to, which would give her or her boyfriend a motive for murder, and would draw suspicion away from Ariana. Or it could be a new woman altogether, which would give us a whole new direction to go.”

“Go?” Harrison asked. “Where are we going? This is a receipt for a blouse. There are a million reasons why Russo had a woman's blouse mixed in with his things.”

“Well, tomorrow I'm going to find out the one reason,” I said. I didn't know why but I felt sure that this was important.

“How do you propose to do that?” he asked.

“I am going to—” I began but was cut off when Viv plopped her head down on her arms at the table, a soft snore sawing from between her parted lips.

I looked at Harrison and lowered my voice. “I'm going to the dry cleaners first thing tomorrow and I'm going to ask them about the blouse.”

“And you think out of the thousands of blouses and hundreds of customers they have, they'll remember this one.”

Okay, that was an annoyingly good point.

“It's worth a shot,” I said.

Harrison studied me for a moment. Then he looked at the receipt. He looked back at me. “Eight o'clock. I'll meet you out front and we'll go together, you remember, like we agreed.”

“You're coming with me?” I asked.

He just stared at me.

“All right,” I said. I tried not to wince when I added, “Eight o'clock.”

“Do you need help getting her upstairs?” he asked.

I glanced at Viv. She was still snoring but it was more an exhausted sleep than a passed-out stupor so I figured I could rouse her.

“I think I can manage her,” I said. “But thanks.”

He nodded. Without another word, he turned and left the workroom. I knew he had a key and could lock up after himself, but he hadn't said good-bye, so I assumed he wanted me to follow him.

We navigated around the furniture and shelves of the dimly lit shop. To display the hats, Viv was partial to rounded metal hat stands. She felt that the mannequin head stands were too creepy, and in the shadowy room, I had to admit they would have given me the willies.

We stopped by the front door. Harrison turned the dead bolt and had his hand on the knob. He glanced at me over his shoulder, and asked, “Why?”

“You're going to have to give me more to go on there,” I said. “Why what?”

“Why are you and Viv so determined to help Ariana?” he asked. “You don't know her. By all accounts, she is guilty and you have nothing to gain.”

It was a fair question. From the outside looking in, there really was no reason for Viv and me to help Ariana. We could give her hat back and wash our hands of the whole unfortunate incident, except I had been the one to find her with Russo. I had seen the horror on her face. I couldn't explain it, but I knew she was innocent. I just knew it.

Then, of course, there was the fact that Viv and I had both sensed Mim's presence when we'd taken the hat from Ariana, and we had both assumed that it meant we should take on Ariana as a client. Was it Mim? Were we having a mass—and by “mass,” I mean the two of us—hallucination? Was it just wishful thinking?

Then again, I had seen the way Viv's eyes had lit up at seeing the old hat of Mim's. To refurbish a hat of our grandmother's was such a gift for Viv. I knew how much it meant to her to bring the hat back to its former glory and to have Ariana wear it on her special day. Well, that was the point of the whole endeavor, wasn't it?

“I don't know if I can really explain it,” I said. “There are so many reasons to want to help, but the most important is that I truly believe Ariana is innocent.”

Harrison gave me a small smile. “I'm glad to hear it. I think the same and I know Stephen believes it all the way down to his core.”

“He's standing by her then?” I asked.

“Yes, and his mother, Trudy, is, too,” Harrison said. “Which makes up for her own family a little bit.”

“Her father and stepmother?” I asked.

“Haven't shown up to check on her or anything,” he said. He sounded disgusted.

I thought about my own parents and how they were always there for me even when I made a mess of things. As much as I love London, I had a sudden pang of homesickness for my parents, and the ocean between us seemed awfully big.

“All right, Ginger?” Harrison asked.

The nickname made me smile. Yes, my parents were far away but I had Viv, Fee, Andre and Nick, and yes, I had Harry, too.

“I'm fine,” I said and I meant it. I reached around Harrison and pushed open the door. I gave him a shove into the doorway and then I surprised us both by standing up on my tiptoes and kissing his cheek. “Eight o'clock, Harry, and don't be late or I'll go without you.”

Then I shoved him all the way out the door, pulled it shut and locked it. I heard him whistling as he walked down the street, and it made me smile.