Matchpoint (10 page)

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Brody told them when we entered. “This shouldn’t take too long.”

“When can we open up again?” asked Holly.

“Dr. Dulur isn’t even cold,” Nathan said, clearly annoyed at her.

“He’s cold enough,” said Holly. “I have my own clients, you know. I have fifteen cleaning appointments this week.” She seemed to notice me for the first time. “You want me to handle that whitening for you? I can get it done today.”

“I’m good,” I said.

“The office is closed until further notice,” Brody said. “I don’t know who the heir is.”

“The doctor didn’t own the practice,” Belinda explained. “It’s owned by a group of dentists out of L.A. Dr. Dulur was just an employee.”

That was news to me, and by the looks of them, news to Nathan and Brody, too. It was impossible to tell if Holly was surprised. With her face frozen in one expression, I thought she needed a sign to hold up to announce her emotions.
MAD. HAPPY. SURPRISED
. It would be a big help.

“I’ve been in contact with them,” Belinda continued. “They said to open up just as soon as the police allowed, and they’re sending a replacement dentist.”

Belinda continued to inspect the waiting-room plants. Brody stared at her, the little cogs in his brain turning loudly, cranking his brain cells into activity, and I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking that Belinda had gotten right back to business, seemingly unfazed in the wake of her boss’s gory murder.

Brody took out a notepad and scribbled something. “All right, folks,” he said. “Let’s get to it. I’m on overtime as it is, and it’s mac-n-cheese night at home. Walk me through the events.”

Again, Belinda took charge. “Gladie came in at six-thirty. She was the last patient of the night. I left after I checked her in.”

“Where did you go?” Brody asked.

Belinda flinched and took a step back. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“Where did you go after you left? It’s a pretty simple question.”

“I don’t remember,” she said. Brody stopped scribbling and looked up.

“You don’t remember? It was last night.”

“I don’t remember,” she repeated.

Brody scribbled in his notebook. “Then what happened?” he asked.

“Then I left,” Holly said. “You want to know where I went? Bar None. I had three whiskey sours and went home with Gianni Marchi.”

“You’re at Bar None every Tuesday night. Everyone knows that,” Brody said. “That leaves you, Mr. Smith.”

Nathan stood. He had a small shaved patch on the back of his head and a bunch of stitches. I swayed in place and took a seat.

“I prepped Miss Burger for her dental work. Seven fillings and a whitening treatment.”

“Where was that?” Brody asked.

“Examination Room Three.”

“Let’s go back there.”

I dragged my feet on the carpet behind the others as we filed past the yellow police tape that blocked off the back office. It occurred to me that they might be curious to see the actual scene of the crime. I was trying to block it out of my mind, like Sarah Palin’s bus tour. I had almost convinced myself that what I had seen the night before wasn’t all that bad. I was pretty neurotic, and I had probably blown the whole scene way out of proportion.

“I prepped Miss Burger,” Nathan explained at Examination Room 3. “Everything happened so fast.” His voice hitched, and he closed his eyes. I patted his back to steady him, but I was picturing myself lying on the chair, unconscious and helpless.

He turned to me. “Thank you. I’m all right,” he said, and took a deep breath. “Then the lights went out. Dr. Dulur said something. A bad word. I got up to check the breakers. I could barely see, and I was wondering how I was going to make it through the office like that, when Dr. Dulur cried out.”

“Cried out how?” asked Brody.

“Like a scream that was cut off, and he fell to the floor.”

“Did you get a look at the guy?” Brody asked.

“It was dark. I felt his presence, and I ran. I heard him running after me, like he was heavy. He made noise, you know what I mean? I got to the waiting room, and I turned and saw him by the glow of the Exit sign. He was big, really big, and dressed all in black. I couldn’t make out his face. I made it to the door when he hit me over the back of the head. The next thing I knew, Miss Burger was standing over me.”

Brody whistled. “Eighteen stitches, right? That bastard.”

Nathan absentmindedly touched his head, like the act of telling his story made the injury hurt all the more. I could relate. My tooth felt like it was on fire, and a couple others were starting to throb, too.

“Okay, Underwear Girl, it’s your turn,” Brody said.

“I w-w-woke up here on the floor,” I said. “But the lights were on. I don’t know what time it was.”

Brody flipped through his notebook. “You called the police at 11:53.”

“I was under the gas for almost five and a half hours,” I said to no one in particular.

Unconscious at the mercy of a killer.

I struggled to steady my quivering lower lip. If I let it go, there would be no turning back. I would need a Xanax drip.

“Where did you find him?” Brody asked.

I pointed to Examination Room 2. “Over there.”

It had been cleaned up. The chair was gone, as well as a swath of carpet, which had been cut out, leaving a large rectangular hole in the floor, showing the concrete below. It was a relief. It didn’t look anything like
Saw III
anymore. It was more like Costco.

“How did his blood get all over you?” Brody asked.

Nathan, Holly, and Belinda turned in unison and stared at me.

“It sort of happened in stages. I checked his pulse, and then, you know.”

“No, what?” Belinda asked.

“It happened,” I said.

“What happened?” Belinda asked.

“He fell on me.”

“A dead guy fell on you?” Holly asked. I could have sworn her eyebrows twitched.

“Yes,” I said.

“I’ve seen that before,” Brody said. “Happens all the time.”

I let that hang in the air for a moment. “Did you find his, you know?” I asked.

“His face?” Brody asked. “Not yet.”

“He didn’t have a face?” Holly asked. “I didn’t know he didn’t have a face.”

“What do you mean, he didn’t have a face?” Belinda asked.

“What kind of sick fuck takes a man’s face?” Nathan chimed in. I was wondering the same thing.

With the walk-through finished, Brody locked up Bliss Dental, and we walked toward the cars. Belinda pulled me aside.

“Any luck with a match?” she asked me.

“Belinda, a dead guy with no face fell on me,” I said.

She smacked the side of her head. “Oh, of course. What was I thinking? You think you’ll have something for me by tomorrow?”

Belinda was more focused than most. “Tomorrow? Sure, why not? You’ll have a name by then,” I promised.

“So, I’ll have a date Saturday night?”

“Sure.” My shirt was stuck to my back. Flop sweat. Matchmaking gave me stage fright. I wasn’t what you would call a natural.

Nathan hopped into his Geo, and Holly into her truck, and they peeled out of the parking lot. Sergeant Brody was having a heated conversation with a couple who had wandered into the lot and removed half of their clothing. “The Arrival!” they called to the sky, flapping their arms like wings. They broke out in dance, and Brody chased them around, trying to get them to put their clothes back on.

“Is it a full moon?” I asked Belinda.

“How would I know?” she said. “Listen, Gladie, there’s something else I want to talk to you about.”

Beating all odds, Brody captured the couple and shoved them into the back of the squad car. He stood doubled over with his hands on his thighs and tried to catch his breath.

“Gladie, they found something fishy about the books,” Belinda said quietly.

“What books?”

“The Bliss Dental books. A financial discrepancy.”

“Who found it?” I asked.

“The police, and they’re looking at me. They asked me questions, and they want to ask more questions. They told me to get a lawyer.”

I was going to hell because all I could think of was that my first real client was going to go to prison and with her my Visa card. “That’s terrible, Belinda.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Holly said it’s a perfect motive for murder.”

“What motive?”

“If I was stealing money and Dr. Dulur found out.”

“Are you saying—?”

“I’m innocent, Gladie. Do you believe me?” She put her hand on my arm. She was wearing another large sweater, this time with a giant yellow daisy embroidered in glittery thread on her chest. The daisy matched her yellow knit pants, which were a size too small and
outlined her ample thighs. She wasn’t the stereotype of a crazed killer who butchered her victims.

“Of course I believe you, Belinda,” I said.

“So, will you help me?”

“I’m going to match you right up.”

“No, I meant with the murder. Will you help me prove my innocence?”

The month before, I had been peripherally involved in solving a murder. I guess the news had gotten around. “Belinda, I really want to help, but I think you need a professional.”

Belinda fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked her car with a beep. “No, I want you, Gladie. We can talk more tomorrow when we meet about my match.”

I was seriously sweating now. It was getting dark. Tomorrow was only hours away, and I didn’t have a match for Belinda. I had to find someone quick.

I watched Belinda drive out of the parking lot and then I approached the squad car. The windows were fogged, and the car was rocking in a familiar rhythm. Brody put his hands up to the window to look inside and then jumped back.

“Stop!” he yelled. “Stop it now!” He pounded on the window. “Stop defiling the police car! This is government property.”

The car bounced in earnest. Either the police department didn’t splurge for decent shocks, or the couple was unusually energetic.

Brody threw up his hands. “I’ll never get my mac-n-cheese now,” he moaned.

“They’ll have to finish sometime,” I pointed out. But I wasn’t eager to ride in that backseat anytime soon. I started to call Bridget to pick me up, but I hadn’t paid my cellphone bill yet, and it was still dead.

“Stop!” Brody yelled again, and pounded on the windows. I sighed. It occurred to me that just about everybody
was having more sex than me. It also occurred to me that I was hungry.

“Need a ride, pretty lady?” As if by magic, Holden came up behind me and slid his arm around my waist. He nuzzled my neck, and my skin burst into flame, instantly drying my back.

“I was just thinking about you,” I croaked. “Where did you come from?”

“I was driving by and saw you standing there.” He pointed to the squad car in disbelief. “Are they—?”

“Yeah, and Sergeant Brody isn’t going to get his macaroni and cheese.”

Holden raised an eyebrow. “Okay.”

“So the answer is yes,” I said.

“To what?”

“I want a ride.”

THE LAKE was at the southwesternmost corner of Cannes, way out of the historic district, past the orchards. It was mostly used by rich tourists who came up during the summer to get drunk while boating. But it was past the boating season, and the lake was usually deserted this time of year.

We drove into the sunset. The sky was painted with brilliant pinks and blues. I had lived in a lot of places, but I had to admit Cannes was one of the most beautiful. Unfortunately, it also seemed to attract every escaped lunatic west of the Mississippi.

End-of-worlders, alien worshippers, and murderers aside, the women were bonkers. I mean, no less than six older women were gunning for Spencer? What were they thinking? Didn’t they have any self-respect?

“What do you think about Facebook?” I asked Holden.

“I’m not much for the computer,” he said. “I like to maintain a low profile.”

He wasn’t kidding. But it did give me an idea. I wondered how much I could find out about Holden online. Maybe a little snooping would uncover just what he was hiding from me and why he wanted to keep a low profile.

The parking lot at the lake’s activity center near its main dock was filled with RVs and cars. Music blared and people milled about, with bonfires dotting the shore. It was just like Burning Man.

Holden helped me out of the truck. He took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. “It’s a little chilly,” he said.

It was all I could do not to wrap my legs around his waist and beg him to impregnate me right there between the Airstream travel trailer and the impromptu garbage dump.

The glow of the last vestiges of the day outlined his tall, strong body, and a sigh escaped my lips. “Should we find Bridget and Lucy?” he asked me.

“Who?” I asked. But Lucy was walking straight for me, still in her signature heels and flowy dress, even out in the wilds.

“Gladie Burger, is that you?” Her heels clacked against the blacktop. “Bridget, I found her! And she brought the tall drink of water. It’s safe. Come on out.”

Lucy sidled up next to me, and I noticed her hair was askew and her lipstick had smeared off her lips onto her left cheek. “It’s been hell, Gladie,” she said. “Poor Bridget.”

I smelled Bridget before I saw her. At first I thought I was smelling barbecue, but it was Bridget. I gasped. “Bridget, your hair.”

“It’s still smoking,” Bridget said, hobbling toward us
with one shoe off and one shoe on. “But as far as I can tell, the fire is out.”

Half her hair was singed off, and smoke billowed off her head. “Are you sure you’re not on fire?” I asked.

“No, she’s out,” Lucy said. “I made sure. I don’t know why it keeps smoking.”

“The pagans did this to you?” I asked.

“The pagans? No, it was the PTA.”

“The PTA set your head on fire?” Holden asked.

“Not quite,” Lucy explained. “It was a candlelight vigil. They were carrying the candles to protest the pagans, and Bridget got too close.”

“I was discussing free speech with them.”

“It got heated, excuse the word,” Lucy said. “They were waving their candles around, gesturing wildly while telling Bridget she was a bleeding-heart pagan lover.”