Eeny Meany Miny Die (Cat Sinclair Mysteries) (11 page)

We walked up to the front steps of the station, but I hung back with Jenny. "What about finding your money?" I whispered. "I'm still looking into it, right?"

She shook her head. "Take Angel's case instead. Clearing her name is more important than finding my money. Besides, I wouldn't want to bring any more trouble to her door."

"What do you mean?"

"She inherits Frank's fortune, and his debts. If you prove that Frank stole from me, then
she'll
have to pay me back, not him. I don't want her to go through that. It's not her fault."

"Well, okay I guess." I admit that I didn't get it. Not until I exchanged Gina for Angel, and then…yeah.

Inside, I asked for Detective Harrison Forde, Scarface's real name. The officer on the duty counter pressed his lips together like he was stopping a smirk escaping. I couldn't blame him. Scarface was nothing like the actor who bore his name. He resembled the villain from the movies, not the hero.

We waited in the stark reception area as the officer called Scarface. Nobody spoke and nobody sat down despite the collection of chairs in one corner. I pretended to read the community notice board while Jen played with her long, sleek ponytail. Taylor flipped through a magazine and Corey leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, and stared down at his Nikes.

I was grateful when the door opened, breaking the awkward silence. Scarface's gaze settled on me immediately. He didn't look at the others, didn't acknowledge their presence. It was like I was the only one who existed in that room.

His lips curved into a greeting. "Isn't this a little early for you?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Did you go home last night?"

His one good eye twinkled. "Worried about me, Kitten?"

"Always." I don't know why I was flirting with him. It had nothing to do with my earlier argument with Will. Scarface and I both just liked playing games.

"This business or pleasure?" he asked, his voice a low hum.

I jerked my head at the three members of Play Group. "Work."

He stood very close to me and muttered, "Damn." He looked at them for the first time. Just looked, assessing, but he had the kind of gaze that made even the innocent squirm. It could bore through you and make you think he was reading your soul.

Jenny nibbled her bottom lip and nudged Corey with her elbow.

"We need to tell you something," Corey said.

"Go on," Scarface said.

"Not here."

Scarface led us down a windowless corridor painted stark white, past a series of closed doors. The corridor opened up to a large office space with partitions and desks, most of which were empty. A couple of heads looked up from computer screens, then quickly settled back to work. Scarface opened a door with the name plaque
Captain Henshaw
on it. It was empty.

He stepped aside to allow Jenny, Taylor, and Corey to enter, but shifted to block me. I cocked my head to the side, but my glare didn't affect him. It had been a good one too. He just smiled.

"Not you, Kitten," he said. "Unless you've got something to tell me."

"I'll wait out here then, shall I?"

"You do that. I want to talk to you after. In private."

"Something to look forward to."

He closed the door, but left the blinds open. I could see through the glass walls, but not hear anything. Scarface stood by the desk and folded his arms across his chest, his usual don't-give-a-damn pose. Jenny and Taylor sat in the only two chairs other than the captain's. Corey remained standing. I watched as he spoke. He was an animated talker, using his hands to express himself. Sometimes he dragged at his hair, other times he wiped his palms down his jeans or picked his nails. It wasn't expansive and exuberant in the way Gina and the Italian half of her family spoke, but it was nevertheless telling. He was nervous.

When he finished, Scarface said something, but I couldn't make out the words. I really needed to improve my lip-reading skills. Where the others had clear body language, he had none.

Jenny shot out of her chair. She took a step toward Scarface, but Corey held her back. She leaned forward and poked a finger at Scarface, stopping just short of his chest. Her mouth was twisted in anger, her jaw muscles clenching. I didn't think she was complimenting him on his shirt. It was pretty ballsy of her. Or stupid.

Scarface didn't say anything. He didn't react, not even flickering an eyelash. His body was relaxed, sleepy almost. He'd faced down way scarier people than Jenny.

"She's innocent!" I heard her screech. "Let her go!"

Corey held Jenny with both hands, and Taylor rose from his chair too. Scarface said something. It must have been good news, because Jenny quickly lost all her fight.

Scarface unfolded his arms and flipped through files on the captain's desk until he found two sheets of paper. He handed one to Jenny and the other to Corey, then passed them pens. They wrote and handed the papers back.

Scarface opened the door and the Play Group members filed out. I lifted my brows in question.

"She's going to be released!" Jenny said with a wobbly smile.

"For now," Taylor added.

Jenny hugged me. "Cat will find out who really killed that bastard, and then she'll be free forever."

Scarface watched me, an amused gleam in his eye.

"Come on, let's go tell the crew," Corey said, taking Jenny's hand affectionately.

Jenny arched her brows at me. "You coming, Cat?"

"No," Scarface answered. "She's busy."

The Play Group members left, and Scarface led me into his Captain's office and shut the door. "Got yourself a nice meaty case there," he said, sitting on the edge of the desk. "Does Will know?"

"Of course."

"Shall we make a wager?" he asked.

"On what?"

"On who'll find Frank's killer first. You or me."

"So you don't think it was Angel?"

"I didn't say that."

I narrowed my gaze at him. "Is this a trick? Do you already know she did it and you're just trying to get me to take a losing bet? Releasing her is a bit risky just to win, isn't it?"

His lips twitched. "I like taking risks, but that's not why I released her. Let's see, what'll the stakes be. How about, if I win, you go on a date with me. If you win, I go on a date with you."

"Nice try, Scarface. I can't date you, I'm with Will."

"This case could go on for a few more weeks."

Meaning he didn't think Will and I would still be together then. We were wandering down a path I didn't want to take, so I avoided the subject. "Why did you release Angel?"

"We have our reasons."

"So…you doubt she did it?"

"Look at her. She's like a fairy."

"She could be a killer fairy." He just lifted one shoulder. "This isn't like you, Scarface. I thought you looked past appearances and judged people based on the evidence. I didn't think you'd be taken in by a cute body and a pretty face."

He gave me that goddamn teasing smile again, the one that made me feel guilty for just being alone with him. His gaze traveled from my eyes to my mouth, then down my entire body, lingering on places that burned hot from his gaze alone. "I wouldn't call you cute, Kitten. Sexy maybe."

Damn it, I blushed. I couldn't help it. I may not want to take the flirting further with Scarface, but it sure felt good.

He chuckled. Bastard.

"So what do you know?" I asked, determined to get the conversation back on track before I lost my train of thought completely.

"All sorts of things."

"Come on, give me something to work with here."

"Want to win the bet, huh?"

"We don't have a bet!"

He grinned. "I can tell you what Angel herself has been told, but that's all. Her fingerprints are all over the room."

"She was staying in it! Of course they'd be there."

"There were only hers, Karvea's, and the staff’s."

"Maybe the killer wore gloves. Anything else?"

"There was no sign of forced entry and she had a key card. It wasn't reported missing."

"The staff also have access."

He gave a single nod. "It was well known that she hated her husband. They argued in public and she had several affairs."

"Several? You mean it wasn't just Corey?"

"Many others, going back four years to when they married."

"You found all this out since his death?"

That Cheshire Cat smile again. "You're not the only one with contacts in L.A."

I sat on the chair and digested what he'd told me. It wasn't looking good for Angel. She wasn't the angel her colleagues thought she was. On the other hand, it wasn't proof that she did it either. "Does Corey know about the others?"

He shrugged. "You should ask him."

"Do you really think she was with him the night of the murder?"

"It's possible. I don't believe your friend saw her leave, though."

Neither did I, but it felt traitorous to admit it. I was relieved that he was already suspicious of Jenny's statement, however. It meant I didn't have to air my own doubts. "So that's all you've got?" I asked. "No murder weapon?"

"We're still looking."

"It seems flimsy."

"She also benefits financially from his death," he said.

"Have you seen the will?"

"Karvea's lawyer emailed me a copy last night."

"Is she the only beneficiary?" I asked.

He didn't answer straight away, and I guessed he was debating how much he should say. It was probably against regulations to tell me as much as he already had, but Scarface wasn't the sort of man who followed the rules. "Angel gets the bulk of the estate, but the group's ownership reverts to his ex-wife."

"Really?" Interesting. I knew nothing about his ex-wife beyond what I had learned in my investigation so far. Inheriting the group in its entirety just gave her a motive for killing him. "What do you know about her?"

"Not much."

Which wasn't the same thing as 'nothing.' It didn't matter. Jenny and the others should be able to help me out. I felt good, lighter, and even my headache began to lessen. I now had another suspect. My new case had just gotten off the ground.

"What about the tox report?" I suddenly asked. "Was he drugged?"

"You've been watching too much
CSI
," he said. "These things take time. I'll let you know the results when I have them."

"Will you?"

He took a step closer and I felt myself being sucked in by his force field. He wasn't smiling, but his eye twinkled. "I wouldn't want the bet to be too easy for me. There's no fun in that."

"You think you're going to win? Cocky."

A slow, easy smile touched his lips. "So you agree we have a bet?"

Damn. "Sure. Why not. But I won't agree to a date."

"How about, if I win, I'll teach you some self-defense moves."

"I do kickboxing now."

He lifted a brow and I was gratified that he seemed impressed. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

I laughed. Like I could ever beat him. "Okay, you show me some sneaky moves if you win." Will would love that—not. "And if I win?"

He shrugged and I got the feeling he hadn't thought it through. He didn't expect to lose. "You get to ask me anything."

"That doesn't sound like much."

"Then I'll leave the wager up to you. If you win, you decide what you do to me."

Gulp.

He glanced over my head as the door opened. I swung round to see Stankovic glaring at us, coffee in one hand, croissant in the other. A pastry flake hung from his stubbly chin. "You again," he said, barely glancing at me.

"The one and only. I was just leaving."

"Good." He opened the door wider, but he was so fat that I brushed his stomach as I passed. It wasn't even nine, but he already smelled of sweat.

"Maybe you should try something healthier for breakfast," I said.

He took a large bite of the croissant and chewed in my face.

"Hey, Cat," Scarface interrupted before I could say something I'd really regret. "We'll be in touch."

I left the building and sat in my car until my heart stopped beating like a drum. Why did I play with Scarface? He was bad for me, bad for my relationship with Will.

Will.

Hell. I needed to find out if he was still mad at me. I drove to High Street and bought four coffees at Trendz Cafe across from the office. It was past nine, but the traffic flowed. Gina met me at the entrance to her shop and accepted one of the cups. She looked like a sexy bee dressed in a yellow dress with thin black stripes and plunging neckline. There wasn't a hint of the previous night's excess in her clear, unlined face.

"You look good," I said. "I hate you."

"You don't look half bad yourself. Just ask Will."

I winced. "We had a fight. I think."

"Then why are you wasting time talking to me?" She watched me over the rim of her cup as she sipped.

I sighed. "I'm going, I'm going." I opened the door to the office and greeted Faith.

She had her hair up in a skinny ponytail and lipstick gave her some color. She looked up and tugged on the cuffs of her cardigan in that self-conscious way she had.

"Is Will in?" I asked.

She nodded. I handed her the coffee and she thanked me. "Cat?"

"Hmmm?" I said, looking up the corridor to Will's closed door. What should I say to him? Sorry? What was I sorry for?

"Your clothes are on your desk. Thanks for taking me to your kickboxing class last night."

"Oh, sure. Glad you liked it. You were really good."

She dipped her head, but not before I saw her smile. It was a nice smile, but twitchy, unsure. It lasted a nanosecond, then she focused on the computer screen again, shutting me out. That's okay. I wasn't up for interrogating her.

I headed up the corridor and knocked on Will's door.

CHAPTER 7

Will looked surprised to see me. "I thought you were Faith," he said, leaning back in his chair.

"Were you expecting her?"

"No, but you don't usually knock."

Barging into his office was my usual
modus operandi
, but it didn't feel right this time. I no longer knew where I stood with him.