Exposed by Rage (3 page)

I hesitated to reveal my connection to the woman we were going to see.  I assumed DeMarco thought I knew her through Jillie.  Everyone knows what happens when you assume.  I thought I had a good memory, but his was better.

DeMarco smiled as I got in the passenger seat.  “You don’t remember me, do you? 

“Remember you?  From where?”

I was in your English class in high school.  Not that you were here long, but I never forgot you.

I studied him, but nothing popped.  He hadn’t been one of the bullies so I guess that’s why I didn’t remember him.    “So you know who I am.”  I controlled the emotions I felt, the ever stalwart target of bigotry.”  It was inhumane, reminding me of those early days in school.  DeMarco just had to pour salt on the wound.

“Yes.  I always felt bad for you back then, so many people were cruel over something you had no choice in.”

He really seemed to mean what he said—maybe I didn’t need to be so cautious around him—but only time would tell.

I forced myself to remain still, when what I really wanted was to escape the car.  “I haven’t seen Trix in two years.  Not sure my being with you will gain you any favors.”

He glanced at me, “Sorry.  I didn’t think how uncomfortable this might be for you.  I would like you to go in with me, but if you don’t—“

“I knew where we were going and came with you.  You don’t need to let me off the hook.”  We pulled into the drive and I gave DeMarco the pass code to the gate. Security conscious as Trixie claimed to be, she hadn’t changed my private code since I left home eight years ago.

The gates folded back silently as we rolled up the long drive.  The house looked down on us from the top of a small hill.  The current defense force, two muscular pretty boy toys, descended the front steps as we pulled up to the door.  DeMarco started to reach for his identification, but I stopped him.  It wouldn’t be necessary.  Trixie always made sure her pets recognized me on sight even though I hadn’t seen her in more than two years.

“Mizzz Ashley,” toy number one spoke with an artificial southern drawl, “Miz Trixie is waiting for ya’ in the atrium.”

Toy Two remained silent as he opened the front door. 

Inside, little had changed.  The walls, floors, carpets and most of furniture were blinding white, littered by the bodies of Trixie’s current entourage of raunchy stars and starlets. I didn’t wait for DeMarco to catch up, nor did I pause to gage his reaction.

The atrium was really just a large enclosed sunroom with a few plants scattered about.  Trixie stood across the room by the French doors that opened to the pool.

“Ashley,” Trixie said in that velvet voice that had been almost as famous as her sex goddess body. 

The man who had been talking to her turned around.

"Ashley. Honey.  Surprised to see you.  Thought you tried to stay away from all us por...noggg...ra...phers," A smirk spread across the man’s face.

George Tyler, camera operator.  The stuff his camera recorded was trash, and unlike the performers I knew, this guy had barely crawled out of the primeval ooze.  I don’t get that spidery tingle along my spine often, but it always happens when he’s around.

So why was he here?  Trixie used his camera when necessary but never in Plano.

George strutted toward me.  "Tough news about Jilliebean, huh?"

If he was trying to sound sympathetic, he failed miserably.

“George, come with me.” Trixie walked into the hall, expecting the slime to follow.  She didn’t appear curious why I was there and ignored DeMarco.  For me the treatment was typical, and if forced to admit it, a little hurtful.  I was surprised at DeMarco’s treatment. Trixie rarely missed an opportunity to turn on her blinding, dentist-enhanced smile when a guy was as DeMarco hot as was around

“One of her employees?” Demarco watched Trixie and the sleaze from the doorway. 

I nodded, not trusting my voice.  I was afraid he would hear the hate I felt.

Trix finished her business, giving me the same disapproving look she had when I was a child and failed to meet her fashion expectation.  I was waiting for her to tell me I would be whatever it was she wanted me to be, if only I would do this or do that.

“Mrs. Dix,.  I’m Detective DeMarco.”  His voice was steel as he stepped between us flashing his badge. “I understand you and Ms. Favor were partners in several businesses.  Do you know of any reason someone would want her dead?”

I have to admit, at five foot seven, blonde hair cascading down her back, and in the slinky sequin covered floor-length dress she wore, the woman was blindingly beautiful when she turned on the charm.  Of course she only did that when she wanted to control the meeting. 

“I’m afraid I have been rude, would you care for coffee? I’ll have some delivered to us in the library.”

Misdirection.  DeMarco didn’t take the bait.

“Thank you, but I just have a few questions, it won’t take long.  Ms. Favor called your daughter and asked her to come home.  Do you know why?”

Trixie looked at me instead of DeMarco.  “No, I haven’t had much contact with my daughter, as I’m sure she’s told you.  Jillie was closer to her, but didn’t talk about her if she could avoid it.” 

Angry voices interrupted.  Two of the people who had been in the front room as we passed were now standing in the foyer, yelling at each other.  From here it was hard to tell what the argument was about, but it was enough to make it impossible to keep Trixie’s attention.  She withdrew to settle the disagreement, and temporarily put an end to DeMarco’s questions.

Even when the disturbance had been quieted, she didn’t return. 

DeMarco, shaking his head, gave a wry laugh.    “Any idea where she disappeared to?  She needs to show a little respect.”

“We can look around.  I didn’t see her go up the stairs.” I admit I wouldn’t want to be on the bad side of DeMarco.  The look on his face made the hair on my neck stand at attention.

We found her in her office, and as we entered the room she hung up the call she was making. 

“Sorry to have left you that way,” she purred.  “I had to take care of an important issue before it got out of hand.” 

“I don’t generally appreciate people ignoring me when I ask them a question.  So
if
it’s convenient,” DeMarco said, “I’d like to know who may have been willing to murder your partner.”

Trixie sat back in her chair studying the detective.  “It wasn’t me,” she said with a small smile.  “I don’t’ know anyone who would do such a thing. Jillie was my partner on paper only, as I told you before, we didn’t see a lot of each other.”

“Did Jillie have other partners?  Money problems?  Angry former employees or boyfriends?  Anything you can think of would be helpful.”

Trixie just shook her head.

DeMarco continued.  “Or maybe you’ve heard rumors about changes in your--industry that might have led to something like this?”

Trixie clenched her teeth before answering.  “Detective, I can tell by your voice you have disdain for what I do, but just because I work with people who are different than the small minded citizens of this city, doesn’t mean any of them are capable of murder.”

“Take some time and think about it—my partner, Detective Braden and several others will be here shortly.  I want to interview everyone here.  Don’t hesitate to tell him if you think of anything.”  Turning to me, he said.  “Let’s get out of here.”

I couldn’t have agreed more and wasted no time returning to the car.  However I was pretty sure DeMarco wasn’t planning to let Trixie just walk away.  He’d be back and I was forced to admit he appeared to know what he was doing.  If he had gotten in Trixie’s face should would have shut down for good, this way he gave her enough room to think she won the day

A woman ran down the steps as DeMarco started the car, and knocked on my passenger side window.  The Lady Eve, one physco messed-up chick.

“Ashley, I am so sorry.  I know you loved Jillie,” Eve murmured.

I wasn’t sure what to say.  I hardly knew Eve, and what I knew about her was both sad and appalling.

“Thank you, Eve,” was perhaps an inadequate reply but all that came to mind.

“Was she really tortured?  Was it horrible?”  Eve’s eyes grew wide.  She appeared excited.

“Did you know Jillie well?”  I was curious, even as I was appalled by her reaction to the murder.

“I’m sure we would have been great friends, if she would have answered my calls.”

DeMarco broke in.  “Eve, maybe you would like to come to my office, we could talk about this.”

“Oh, you think I killed her.” Eve’s crystal bell laugh rang out.  “Of course you do, but I don’t have time right now, officer.”  She scampered back up the steps and into the house. 

“Is she insane?”  DeMarco reached for the door handle.

I caught his arm as he started to step out the car.  “Probably,” I assured him.  “Eve is almost certainly unbalanced.”

“I’ll have Braden talk to her first.  He’s pretty good at dealing with nuts.”

DeMarco’s cell phone rang as we drove out of Trixie’s driveway. He put the phone on speaker and I heard Braden follow up on the message about Eve, and tell DeMarco, the chief wanted him in the office. He dropped me off at the hotel on the way to the meeting.  I wasn’t unhappy.  At the front desk, there was an envelope for me from a local law firm and my own cell rang as I walked down the hall to my room.

“Honey, I am so sorry, Dylan told me what happened to Jillie,” Poppy Mendoza explained when I answered.  Poppy was my one true friend.  She had found me on the streets when I’d run away, watched over me, protected me.  Only a year older than me, she was street smart and brain smart.

“Thanks, Poppy.” I closed my eyes, sighed and knew I didn’t have to hold back the tears.  “I guess I needed to hear from you,” I croaked, when I could.  “So how did Dylan find out?”

“Caster told him after you called last night.  Said you were thinking about resigning if he had a problem with you working on this case with the local police...”

Caster was my commanding officer. Dylan was the closest thing I’d had to a romantic interest since I’d been in grade school, and had worked with me the first two years I’d joined the MP’s.

“So you think you’ll resign and stay in Plano?  That doesn’t sound like you.”

As she was talking, I opened the envelope from the lawyer.

“Popp, I have to go.  I’ll call you in the next day or so.”

“No problem.  I want to be there for you at the funeral, so let me know when it’s arranged.”

“Promise.  I’ll call you soon.”  I realized I’d been so angry about Jillie’s death I hadn’t even thought about a funeral.  As far as I know, Jillie’s parents were dead and she didn’t have any brothers or sisters, so who was going to arrange it?  I dialed the attorney’s office, hoping he’d have some answers.

* * * *

Harold Severenson was tall, lean and made you feel comfortable with a solid, gentle handshake.  He met me in the lobby and walked me to his office, offering me a seat before stepping behind his desk.

“Thank you for coming so quickly.  I know how much Jillie cared for you and I’m sorry you had to be the one to find her.”  He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. 

“Your note indicated you wanted to see me as soon as possible.”

Putting his glasses back on, he gave me a sad smile.  “Jillie left specific directions should anything happen to her.  You were to be contacted and provided with these.”  He handed me a heavy envelope.  “This is the key to her house, the cars, and to the club.”

I looked at the envelope, then back at the man.

“Of course there will be an official reading of the will, but she wanted you to have access as soon as possible.”

“Did she tell you what she thought might happen?  Was she worried she was going to be killed?  Why would she...”

Severenson shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give you the impression...Jillie made these arrangements some time ago.  I don’t think they’re related to what happened to her.”  Pain and sadness flashed across his face. 

“You were her friend and attorney.”

He nodded.  “Yes, she was very dear to me.  I wish I had known she was in trouble.  I would have...” he looked as though he was searching for the right word.  “I would have done anything I could to help her.”

Normally when I am curious, I just blurt out the questions on my mind.  This time, I held back, feeling Harold Severenson was more than just Jillie’s attorney.  The anguish I saw in his eyes told me a story I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear.

“Sorry, I...I am going to miss her,” he cleared his throat.  “Jillie’s parents disowned her, and she thought of you as her ‘little sister’.  She wanted you to have what belonged to her.”  He smiled. “She thought you were the most wonderful person she’d ever met and wanted you to have the moon.”

“I loved her.  She was my family.”  I fought back the tears burning the back of my eyes.  “I...did she make arrangements? What she wanted...”

“Yes, don’t worry about that.  She wanted to be cremated, her ashes scattered.  I will see to everything once the police are ready to release her body.”

“Thank you.”

“She wants a wake, a celebration of her life.  If it is alright with you, I think we should have it at VixSin.  You can close the club and I can have my secretary take care of the catering.”

“Thank you.  I appreciate it.” 
Thank you again, Harold Severenson, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
I stuffed the envelope into my bag, and prepared to leave.

“Miss Gibson, one more thing.  I also have a letter for you.  I thought perhaps I should wait until the reading of the will, but then Jillie didn’t specify that, and perhaps this will shed some light on the current situation.”

I couldn’t control the quiver in my hand as I reached out and took the second envelope.  Was there going to be something in this that would help me find her killer? 

* * * *

I made two phone calls as I drove back to the hotel.  The first one was to DeMarco, to get his okay so I could move into the pool house at Jillie’s.  The second was to call Poppy back, ask her to come for an extended stay.  I needed her friendship, but I also needed someone who could look at the books and management of the club, if I was going to be the new owner.  Poppy was addicted to numbers and would be able to tell me everything about the operation before I could finish looking at the check register for this month’s bills.

   After checking out of the hotel, I drove to Randi and Butch’s place in Aubrey. A small town northwest of Dallas.  As much as I wanted to read the letter Jillie had left, I wanted to catch her killer.  I had opened the letter before leaving my room, and, after a quick scan, knew I wasn’t ready for anything Jillie had to say, nor was there anything I could find that told me what had happened.  I’d read it later.  Much later.

Ashley
, it started, by the time you read this I hope you and your mother have reconciled.... 

“Come in,” Butch said when he opened the door.  “Randi’s in the back, I’ll get her.”

Randi managed the VixSin and she and Butch often went out with Jillie and Kevin.  I was glad I could talk to both of them, it would save me some time.

“Ash.  Baby.  It must have been so awful.”  Randi threw her arms around me in a fierce hug.  “I was hoping we were going to see you before the funeral.  Do you know when that will be?”

I waited until I could breathe, before answering. “No, her attorney is taking care of the arrangements.” 

“Harold?  He must be devastated.  He loved her so much and she couldn’t love him back.”

“Harold Severenson?  Her lawyer?  I thought Kevin was the man in her life.”

“Oh he is...was, the last year or so, but I bet there was some jealousy there.  Kev wanted her to find a new attorney, and she refused.”

Kevin was jealous?  Would he have...?  Of course not.  I couldn’t be that wrong about someone.

“I more or less agreed to work with the police to find out who killed Jillie.  Of course, they’ll be along to ask you the same questions again.  Do you mind telling me?   Was there anyone at the club that seemed to be a threat?”

“Just the usual victims.  Jillie worked in the back most nights and rarely came out until closing.  I’m not sure most of the freaks even knew she was there.”

“Well, that’s not exactly true,” Butch chimed in, walking up and placing his arm around Randi.  “There were a few of the actors from Trixie’s group hanging around lately.  A couple of them were real winners.”

The sarcasm was unusual.  Butch usually didn’t raise an eyebrow when it came to strange, creepy or perverted.  “Do you know who they were?”

“No, and Kevin told me not to mess with them.  Then that actor, Duncan Delaney showed up. He insisted Jillie take care of him personally.  You know.  Serve his drinks.  Introduce him to the girls.  Real jackass.”

I almost laughed at the way he snapped his fingers and raised his chin, placing his nose in the air as he mimicked the actor, but then I remembered why I was there.  We talked for another twenty minutes about Jillie, the club and people who were regulars and regular drop-ins.  No one popped out as suspect number one.

I told Randi that Poppy would be coming in and looking over the books.  She looked upset, but didn’t say anything.  My half-hearted attempt to determine why failed.  She didn’t give me anything to work with and it could just be she saw Poppy as an outsider.

It was time to go to the house, take out my frustrations with a workout in the pool.  Try to clear my head and make sense of what I was hearing.

* * * *

Two cars sat in the driveway of Jillie’s house.  One I recognized immediately.  Poppy.  I should have been surprised, but nothing about Poppy surprised me anymore.  She was sitting in the front seat of the second car, talking to the driver.  Detective Braden. Apparently the interviews at Trixie’s place were over for the day.

Poppy hopped out of the car as I pulled in beside them, and ran to my driver side window.  “I thought you’d never get here, this guy has been making me crazy.  Tell him I was supposed to meet you here.”

Braden stood in the doorway of his car, watching.  He wore the same superior smirk he’d had on yesterday, and it was just as irritating as when I’d had to deal with him in the main house. 

I walked up to Braden.  “So are you going to let me in or do I have to call DeMarco for you? I’ve already talked to him and he gave me the okay to stay here.”

“He told me, but he didn’t say anything about your girlfriend.  She another one of your porno friends or someone closer to you?”

Poppy could have broken his neck for the insult.  I wasn’t her type. 

“Braden, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Move your car.”

He lost the staring contest.  Without additional conversation, he put the car in reverse and tore away.  Tough man he wasn’t.

Poppy followed me into the back, pulling her car next to mine in the auto park between the pool and the garage.  We dragged our suitcases into the pool house and agreed a swim in the heated water before unpacking would be a great team-building exercise.

I began laps, working out the kinks in my muscles and trying to make sense of the events over the past twenty-four hours.  Jillie dead.  There was a lawyer who loved her.  I was her heir.   Trixie and the cameras were in Texas.  Nothing but confusion swam in my brain.

“Okay, Ashley.  Time to give it a rest.  I think that makes forty laps.  Eventually you’re going to cramp and drown.  I don’t want to do a rescue swim, I already dried my hair,” Poppy called as I shoved off the deep end wall.

I hadn’t noticed when she’d stopped swimming along beside me.  She’s much stronger in the pool than I am, and although I wouldn’t admit it, I was beginning to feel the strain.  I stepped out of the pool and took the towel she offered, as the air hit me.  My overworked muscles took exception to the sudden chill. 

Texas weather, one day ninety degrees the next it’s snowing.  It was only April so the nights cooled quickly when the sun disappeared behind the horizon. 

Poppy had already changed and offered to start dinner while I took a shower.  I would have been insulted by the offer, but I hated to cook.

“You’re friend Jillie sure had great taste,” Poppy said as she put dinner on the table.  Salmon with a pesto sauce, and side of pasta glazed with garlic, diced tomatoes and a sprinkling of olive oil, topped by freshly chopped basil.  My stomach roared in celebration for the first time since I’d arrived.

  I looked around the room.  When you came in the French doors from the pool you had a kitchen and small dining area on the left and a comfortable seating area on the right. It was simple yet elegant.  The couch and chair were plush and allowed you to sink into them.  Grey slate tiles divided the two areas, the tiles big enough to keep water from wet swimwear off the carpet in the living area.

“It’s nice,” I said and watched Poppy’s eyes open wide in disbelief.

“Nice.  I know you don’t have a deep desire to wear the latest fashions, but surely you know this is not just nice.  Look at the fabrics on the couch and lounge.  In a pool house.”

“Okay.

“Have you been in the bedrooms, Ash?  I mean just out here in this little swim cottage.  The bedding.  The sheets are Egyptian cotton.  Spread - real satin and silk that simmers like the sea. You’re friend made a major investment here.  I had no idea those clubs brought in this kind of money.  I can’t wait to get my hands on the accounts.”

I’d never noticed.  Could money be the motive for murder?  But that didn’t make sense.  I know I didn’t kill Jillie, and according to her lawyer, I was her heir.  But maybe there were others?

I thought about the envelope filled with keys.  There were five cars in the garage.  Three were collector T-Birds, restored to their original glory.  One was a pick-up, almost a requirement in Texas, and the last was her Lexus, the one she drove every day.  I knew a couple of the people who worked around the house, and was sure she had left something for them.  The gardener, Jose Torres, and Elspeth Bloomington, her housekeeper had been with Jillie for years.  Beverly Tyson restored the cars and maintained the fleet.  Surely they had been mentioned.  Who else?