Pretty Dangerous (17 page)

“Give her more than a minute to get steady,”
Cedric said dryly.

MiMi fought off the shakes that started when
Willa listed the grim reaper possibilities. “He died from a gunshot
to the chest.”

“Damn. I’m surprised they came straight for
you though.” Willa blinked as she tried to sort through cop
logic.

“Most murders are committed by people known
to the victim. If evidence pointed to a robbery they’d have said
so.” Cedric’s good humor had vanished, replaced by a serious
expression. “They didn’t give you more facts for a good
reason.”

“Yeah, they wanted to see if you’d slip and
say something only the murderer would know. Then they’d pounce,”
Willa put in.

“Oh God, you think I blurted out something
they could use against me?” MiMi squeezed her eyes shut to blot out
such a reality. “I’m on my way to prison. Again.”

“They may be eliminating you as a suspect.
Obviously you didn’t know how he died, so they went ahead and told
you. Plus it was probably about to be in the news.” Cedric started
to go on, but stopped when his smart phone buzzed. He stood,
unclipped it from his belt, and gazed at the screen. He waved to
them as he left the office.

“Has Jazz called? Maybe Don can tell us
something.” MiMi couldn’t sit or stand still. She moved to the
window. Willa’s office looked down on an interior courtyard. People
sat at tables eating lunch. Afternoon sunlight gave the scene a
cheerful look.

“We can’t put him in a difficult position by
asking him questions.”

“That an exact quote?” MiMi didn’t turn
around.

“Yep, Jazz is starting to sound downright
conventional. She’s protective of him.” Willa smiled as she shook
her head.

“She loves him,” MiMi replied.

“Jazz is too busy pretending they’re friends
who have good sex. That makes her feel safe.” Willa waved a hand.
“Anyway, back to your pressing problem.”

“Roderick was no good, but he didn’t deserve
to die. Hell, if people who were scum got the death penalty the
streets would be littered with bodies. Besides, he was genuinely
sweet to Sage.”

“Hmmm.” Willa raised her eyebrows, sipped
coffee but said no more.

“Okay, maybe he was setting us up to be his
trophy family. We’d make a nice respectability cover for him,
especially if he expected to be in legal trouble.” MiMi chewed on
her thumb for a few seconds, a habit her mother had nagged her
about since childhood.

Willa gave a short chuckle. “His stunning
wife, huh? How modest of you. What about his wife with a rich daddy
who could give his business bottom line a much needed bump?”

“That too,” MiMi agreed. She grimaced as if
Roderick stood in front of her. “What a low down sleazy waste of
space.”

“At least one other person thought so,” Willa
clipped.

MiMi shivered. “No, someone hated Roderick
enough to kill him. If only we knew more.”

Cedric came back and shut the office door as
if on cue. “That was Edselle. He’s found out more. Roderick
suffered blunt force trauma and was shot in the leg. The bullet hit
a major artery. He bled to death.”

MiMi’s legs went weak. She stumbled to a
nearby chair and dropped onto it. “Oh God, that’s awful. They
wanted him to suffer. Wait a minute, Forrester said he was shot in
the chest.”

“He probably wanted to surprise you into
saying something like, ‘I hit his leg’. You’d be surprised how many
suspects give themselves away so easily.” Cedric checked his texts
messages as he talked.

“No wonder the police are questioning people
close to him. Sounds personal to me.” Willa looked at Cedric.

“It could have been a robbery. His home and
his office had stuff thrown around, like someone searched them.
But... I don’t know.” Cedric sat on the edge of Willa’s desk.

Willa sat straight. “Wait, that’s good news.
The police will cover all the bases. He could have interrupted a
burglary and been attacked.”

Cedric scratched his jaw and turned over her
premise for a few seconds. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You don’t believe it though.” Willa lifted
her mug. When Cedric nodded, she got up and poured coffee into an
empty mug for him.

He took it from her. “Thanks, babe. He either
interrupted a thief at his house or his office, not both. Burglars
typically don’t go to a victim’s house, figure out where he works
and go there, too. Doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe they forced him to his house or office
when they couldn’t enough money. Anyway, it weakens any theory that
makes MiMi the likeliest suspect,” Willa said.

Cedric frowned. “They could have taken to the
nearest ATM and forced him to withdraw cash. And...”

Willa gazed at him. “What else?”

“In criminal cases the authorities can’t hold
back information from a defense attorney,” Cedric replied.

“She hasn’t been charged. They could have
told him because the details are about to become public anyway,
probably in the news.” Willa pointed her mug at him.

“Good point. Ed didn’t say she was going to
be arrested.” Cedric took out his cell phone and dialed. He spoke
for a few minutes. “You’re right. Ed says he saw a breaking news
bulletin on his tablet about Roderick’s murder. He called the
police and got more information. The detective, Drake, told him
they were following more leads.”

“Which is the same as saying they don’t have
enough to charge MiMi or anyone else,” Willa added.

“Good catch.” Cedric smiled at her.

MiMi listened to them bat ideas back and
forth for a few minutes. She massaged her forehead in an effort to
fight off a migraine. Yet the first stab of pain started behind her
left eye. Willa’s assistant slipped in to press an object into her
hand. MiMi looked at the foil with two white tablets encased in
plastic. Kay handed MiMi a large paper cup filled with water. She
waited as MiMi tore open the package, took the pills and gulped
down half the water.

“Thanks,” MiMi said softly and accepted a hug
from Kay, who then left just as unobtrusively.

Willa and Cedric spoke quietly. With her eyes
closed, MiMi rested her head on the back of her chair. Tension
eased from her neck and shoulders. The pills kept the thud from
turning into a full-fledged sledge hammer of agony. After a few
moments her thinking cleared. MiMi opened her eyes. Aware that the
headache could still hit hard, MiMi moved slowly to sit up. She
wanted to be strong, to help them examine alternatives. After all,
this was her mess, not theirs. But she couldn’t.

“I just want to go home, take care of my
little girl and crawl under my comforter,” MiMi said, her voice
shaky.

Willa gave Cedric a look full of meaning. He
nodded and crossed to MiMi. Without saying a word, he gave MiMi a
solid warm embrace and then walked out. He didn’t have to make a
speech. Cedric would juggle his work at Crown Protection with
finding facts to help her. Just as Kay hadn’t needed to speak as
she looked after MiMi.

“Kissing my kids has always been my best
medicine. I’ll drive you home. Kay can follow and bring me back to
the office,” Willa said gently.

She helped MiMi to her feet, dried tears from
her cheeks and handed MiMi her purse as she talked. Overwhelmed,
MiMi could only follow directions. She let Willa and Kay take
control for the next forty-five minutes. They collected Sage from
daycare. Three hours later, MiMi felt much better. Going through
her typical mommy routine helped. Sage cooed in a warm soapy bath
as she played with her toys. MiMi fed her mashed potatoes and green
peas. By the time the sun slipped down, MiMi could almost believe
the awful day had been all her imagination. Almost. By eight
o’clock she’d put Sage in bed. MiMi smiled as Sage’s eyes
fluttered. She kicked her chubby legs in an attempt to stay awake,
but it didn’t work. MiMi jumped at the sound of the doorbell.
Thankfully Sage seemed too tired to be disturbed by the chime that
echoed through the house. MiMi made sure the baby monitor was set.
She left the bedroom door halfway open. Then she went down
stairs.

“I don’t care if a truck load of burly FBI
agents, cops or both is at this door. If they disturb my baby, I’m
going off, on somebody,” MiMi muttered.

She peered through the window next to the
front door. What she saw surprised her. A slender elegantly dressed
woman the color of nutmeg stood in the light. Long black hair
draped her shoulders. The woman’s form fitting black dress and
bright teal blue pumps caused a flash of admiration in MiMi. Long
contemporary silver earrings swung as the stranger scanned her
surroundings. A dark Mercedes sedan sat in MiMi’s driveway. When a
tall man with broad shoulders and a bald head stepped out of the
driver’s side, the woman waved him away. Then she faced the door
again.

“Hello, Ms. Landry. May I speak with you one
moment, please?” she said. Her soft Dominican accent made her
request sound quite pleasant.

MiMi didn’t move. The presence of the man
made her invitation a lot less inviting. “It’s late and I’m dressed
for bed.”

“Tsk, tsk, Ms. Landry. This isn’t the
southern hospitality I’m told is so famous,” the woman replied.
“Your fancy neighbors might find out about Jack stealing my money
and why this property belongs to me.”

“What the...” MiMi slammed open the locks and
jerked the door open.

A tan SUV pulled up just suddenly. Three guys
piled out of the passenger front and back doors. A fourth man
bounded around from the other side. He pointed at the woman’s male
companion who was coming from the BMW.

“Hey, man. You don’t wanna do that. Just be
cool right where you at,” the fourth guy shouted.

His three companions positioned themselves in
a line blocking a path up MiMi’s sidewalk to her front door. Then a
black SUV screeched around the corner. Seconds later it parked
behind the Mercedes so that the car couldn’t back out. The bald
headed companion slapped a palm on the car’s roof in frustration.
Jazz appeared from the SUV passenger door. Don Addison, emerged
from the driver’s side seconds later.

“Hey, didn’t your mama teach you not to open
the door to strangers?” Jazz yelled at MiMi.

Ten minutes later they all sat in MiMi’s
living room. The elegant woman wore an impassive expression as she
studied Jazz first. She seemed to reach some kind of conclusion as
she gave a short hiss. Then she looked at Don. Her milk chocolate
gaze lingered on his tall, muscular frame. Her deep wine colored
lips parted to reveal white teeth.

“Your police officers are a lot sexier here.
Or is that just the way you grow them in the southern states?” the
woman purred.

“He’s kinda unique,” Jazz replied. She draped
an arm around Don’s shoulder for a second and then took it
away.

The woman raised a dark eyebrow. “Lucky
girl.”

“Luck ain’t got nothin’ to do with it.” Jazz
flashed a cocky grin at the woman.

“Hey, cut it out,” Don mumbled, a quick
side-eye at Jazz.

The woman laughed. “Enjoy being a sex object,
my darling. Women have to put up with it all the time.”

MiMi had time to dress in a red tunic sweater
over jeans while Jazz and Don babysat her visitor. She cut in
before the woman could go on flirting. “Excuse me if I ask a rude
question, but who the hell are you?”

The woman started to stand, but changed her
mind when Jazz took a step toward her. She sighed as she settled in
the chair again. “You people are so dramatic. I’m Nairoby Villa. I
don’t think you want an officer of the law to hear the rest of what
I have to say.”

“You’re not in a position to set the damn
rules,” Jazz shot back.

Don tapped Jazz on the shoulder. “Lemme have
a minute.”

Jazz followed him to a corner, they whispered
back and forth. Don finally did most of the talking as Jazz nodded.
They both shot side glances at the newcomer from time to time.

“Her handsome policeman is very smart. He’s
probably explaining to your hot-headed friend that any illegal
activity I disclose would place him in an awkward position.

“What are you talking about?” MiMi squinted
at the woman.

“You’ll see soon.”

Nairoby gave a short nod in the direction of
Jazz and Don. Don went out the front door without looking back.
Jazz joined them again. She sat down on the edge of MiMi’s sofa,
but didn’t relax.

“You were about to say.” Jazz gazed at
her.

“I could use such a fine asset in my
business.” Nairoby glanced at the door. “What’s his name
again?”

“Mr. Don’t Even Try It,” Jazz replied mildly.
She crossed her shapely legs. “You didn’t come thousands of miles
to get your ass handed to you over a man. Explain why you disturbed
my girl.”

Nairoby laughed. “I like you. I’m sure we
could talk business. Now this one...” She glanced at MiMi.

MiMi strode to the woman and stood in front
of her. “The police officer that might have kept me from beating
you senseless is gone. I’ve been through enough crap that my
patience is thin. So you need to start talking.”

“Fine,” Nairoby said with a sour expression
of distaste. “I can’t believe Jackson would bother with you. But
that’s neither here nor there now. Jackson and I had a business
arrangement. He helped me export merchandise, trained my security
staff and we shared in the profits.”

“What kind of merchandise?” MiMi frowned at
her.

“Mainly textiles. Later I expanded into
garments for expensive specialty boutiques. Then I developed a line
of cheaper clothing.” Nairoby gave a short laugh. “I have you to
thank for that. Jackson gave me advice based on your experience.
You may have noticed he took an interest in your work.”

“What?” MiMi yelped. She jammed both fists on
her hips.

“You thought his pillow talk about the
clothing business meant he was fascinated with you? He did it for
me.” Nairoby ignored the odds against her and stood.