Rock Star Down (The Psychic Registry) (7 page)

Laurel nodded, "I
get it, I really do. It's just— I watched him on the show, so it's like I knew
him."

This time Archer
nodded, "Sorry, kid."

Miller shrugged, "Don't
take it personal, Laurel. It's a job, that's it."

Laurel bucked up, "Right.
So what else have you got, Detective Archer?"

"Vaginal
secretions," Archer said.

"What?"
Laurel blurted.

"Mixed with
ejaculate," Archer continued.

"On the body,"
Nathan clarified.

"Of course,"
Laurel said. "So he and Jaqui had sex before they got into some sort of
heated argument and she killed him?"

"Did your boys
put it to her?" Nathan asked Archer.

Archer shook her head,
"They asked the question, but her lawyer didn't let her answer."

"Why not?"
Laurel asked.

"Because it doesn't
make sense," Nathan said. "How many people get into a big fight
after
sex?"

Laurel shrugged.

Archer added, "A
married couple has sex, they're in love. That's what a jury thinks. And people
in love, they don't kill each other."

"But if they didn't
have sex," Nathan continued. "If Franklin was dipping his wick on the
side and his wife found out…"

"That would give
the wife motive for murder," Laurel realized.

"So Jaqui's lawyer
was wise to keep her quiet. If it wasn't hers then she looks guilty,"
Archer added.

"Can they get DNA
from the… lubrication?" Laurel asked.

Archer shrugged, "Even
supposing that they can, we don't have enough evidence to get a court order
compelling a sample from Jaqui."

Nathan shook his head,
"Forget about it. Her attorney won't let it happen. What's more
interesting is the idea that he was cheating."

"I agree, Miller.
But so far we haven't found anything to corroborate an affair," Archer
said.

"Maybe it was a
one-off, with a groupie?" Nathan asked.

"Maybe,"
Archer shrugged, "But it doesn't fit what we've already got. Franklin was
in a recording session all morning with a band and his engineer, all men, by
the way. No sign of any groupies at the studio. It's possible he made a quick
stop on his way to the studio if we've got the timeline wrong. But he
definitely had time in the early afternoon after the band finished."

"So the sex
probably happened at home or at the studio. Where was Jaqui?" Nathan
asked.

"
At home.
Then she went to the studio in the late afternoon," Archer said.

"That's verified?"
Laurel asked.

Archer nodded, "Both
her personal assistant and her housekeeper place her at home until sometime
after lunch."

"Any word of them
arguing or fighting?" Nathan asked. "Maybe something started at the
house, then Jaqui stews all morning and she decides to settle things at the
studio?"

"If there was a
fight, no one's admitted as such," Archer said.

"Alright, I want
to talk to the wife. Think you can make that happen?" Nathan asked.

Archer smiled.

"Already a done
deal?"

"Jaqui's people
have some connections. They got wind you were coming on board. Anyway, her
criminal attorney calls me this morning and says that Jaqui
wants
to
talk to you."

"Huh, maybe she
didn't do it?" Nathan said.

"Or she thinks
that she can fool you," Laurel posed.

Archer gave them both
an incredulous look, "Or maybe she knows that this psychic business is
just a bunch of bullshit – no offense, Nathan – and she figures the play will
boost her in the tabloids."

Laurel studied Archer
for a moment, "You still don't believe in psychic powers, do you, Detective?"

"Miller here is
an expert interrogator. He doesn't need supernatural powers. People who agree
to sit down with a closer like Miller are either innocent or fooling
themselves. So yeah, I'm a skeptic,
just like most people
. I can't say
where Jaqui falls on the spectrum, but I can be fairly certain that they are
going to spin this to their advantage, no matter what Nathan says," Archer
said.

Nathan nodded along.
It didn't make any difference to him what Archer believed so long as she was on
his side. As for the revelation that Jaqui welcomed his interrogation, "Hey,
why didn't you mention this sooner?"

Archer smiled, "I
was just having so much fun watching you two play detectives."

Nathan laughed.
Fucking
cops.

They had to park a couple of blocks down
from the house as a small media camp and a throng of mourning fans had taken
over Jaqui and Rock's street.

Jacquelyn Scott and
Rock Franklin shared the corner row house in an upper-middle class neighborhood
at the city limit. At three stories high, the houses were big and the corner
terrace was especially so. Still, Nathan had expected a more exclusive address
for the home of a pop star and her producer husband. The neighborhood was nice
enough, but it wasn't so nice that he wouldn't give a second thought to parking
his BMW on the street. He expressed his curiosity aloud and was rewarded with an
answer from Laurel:

"Rock bought this
house when he hit it big with his band. His parents live just a few minutes
from here and he likes to visit them when he can," she told him. "Jaqui
doesn't like it so much. She wants a mansion with a gate and servants quarters
above a four car garage."

"You got this
from their TV show?" Nathan asked.

"Yeah. Rock is a
blue collar guy and isn't ashamed of it. While Jaqui is a bit of a
princess
,"
Laurel said.

"So there was
tension between them, at least as far as the show was concerned," Nathan
said.

"I don't think it
was staged. You could tell they weren't getting along entirely," Laurel
replied.

Archer added, "She's
been spending a lot of time on the West coast, trying to get into movies, I
gather. That fits with the affair angle. Wife's gone on business, husband's
getting short shrift."

"But how does
somebody conduct an affair and not get caught if they're the subject of a
reality show?" Nathan wondered. "You'd think they'd get nabbed on
tape at some point. And that would definitely make the cut!"

Archer replied, "Ain't
that kind of show. They don't
spy
on them. They follow them around as
they do their jobs and then mix that with their private lives. Didn't they get
married on the show?"

Laurel nodded, adding,
"That was the first season finale. But the video crew only works for two
or three months. And even then it isn't around-the-clock shooting. Besides, big
stars like Jaqui and Rock call the shots on a show like this. If the producers
don't keep them happy, then they fire them or cancel the show."

"So this wasn't a
couple of down on their luck has-beens trying to fire up their careers?"
Nathan asked.

"Nope,"
Laurel and Archer answered in unison.

As they walked, Nathan
was counting the TV cameras in the distance. "Lot of TV for a three-day-old
murder," he noted.

"Word must be out
on you, Nathan," Archer mused.

 Nathan shrugged it
off. Media types didn't bother him so much – not even the TV people, and they
were the dumbest of the lot – but they could make his job and his life more
difficult.

"Do me a favor,
Laurel?" he asked.

Laurel perked up, "Yes,
Nathan?"

"I'd prefer not
to have any live mics or cameras in my face— Suffice to say, some psychics can
get a read on people using a remote feed and I'm not keen on giving any snoops
a freebie."

"Wow, sure
Nathan. But what can I do? They all know you.
I'm a nobody
."

"Just act like a
big shot. Like you're the one they should want to talk to."

Laurel wrinkled her
nose, "Okay, but what do I say?"

"Don't say jack.
Or better, yet, say
no comment.
But say it like you're the final
authority on the matter."

Archer smiled and
shook her head.

"Are you pulling
my chain, Nathan?"

"Not in the
least," he said.

There was a fan
memorial on the sidewalk in front of the house that spanned from one stoop to
the next. The fans lined half the block, shuffling in a slow procession past
the memorial of flowers and pictures, candles and mementos. Uniformed police
kept the mourners and well-wishers off of Rock and Jaqui's doorstep. Across the
street, on the opposite sidewalk was the media encampment, dominated by TV
crews and video bloggers with a few people from print and radio.

A smattering of entrepreneurs
had seized the opportunity: a white taco truck was doing brisk business near
the media enclave, a hot-dog cart, too, and more than one person was selling
t-shirts.

Nathan had Laurel and
Archer walking in front of him as they crossed the street at the corner of Rock
and Jaqui's house. A couple of police recruits were directing traffic and the
young trainees were ogling Laurel, but she didn't seem to mind. From the media
area, all eyes and cameras were upon their group, but they didn't break stride.

"Nathan Miller!"
a voice called out and the throng of reporters surged across the street. A
dozen voices called out questions all at once.

The sudden movement of
the crowd and their outburst of queries startled Laurel.

Easy, Laurel,
he thought to her.
Just keep going. They don't
matter. You're in charge, remember?

Laurel strode forward
alongside Archer as they pressed though the crowd that had been joined by the
excited fans hoping to catch sight of Jaqui.

Archer held up her ID
and waved to the uniformed officers to help clear a path.

Nathan could hear
Laurel giving reporters the brush off, "No comment. Step aside," she
commanded. Over and over, until they slipped past the uniformed police and
climbed the steps to the front door. And he didn't look back as they were
ushered into the home by a vigilant housekeeper. There were calls from the
crowd for "Jaqui!" mixed with shouts for "Miller," and even
a few for "Detective Archer." But they were already inside the foyer
and the housekeeper shut the door behind them.
No comment.

The housekeeper was a plump little
immigrant woman, forcing a weary smile. Her role was obvious as she wore a quite
formal domestic uniform; nothing so bad as a hotel maid's, but not much better
and it occurred to Nathan that it was likely a costume for the show. Only
black-tie affairs called for smartly uniformed domestics, at least in Nathan's experience.

"One moment,
please," the housekeeper said to them, before she left the foyer.

Archer glanced around
the room and whistled in approval, "Nice place."

Laurel was still
regaining her composure after their harried arrival.

Nathan heard voices
coming from another room, then people approaching. They were joined by a
middle-aged man, tall but slight of build, and a bit paunchy. He had the look
of money but it clearly wasn't his trade. The man looked them over carefully, and
then introduced himself as Aaron Silverman. He was accompanied by a short young
woman, who was
almost
pretty, and clearly not as well monied as
Silverman.

The young woman smiled
and said, "Hi, I'm Natalie. We're with the show."

"I'm a big fan of
your work, Mister Miller," Silverman said.

Nathan noticed he didn't
offer to shake hands. "Can't say I'm familiar with yours, Mister
Silverman."

"I understand.
You're not exactly our core demo. But maybe you've seen something else?
Hasidic
Underground?
Escort Confidential?"
Silverman asked.

Nathan shook his head,
though he'd noticed Laurel perking up at the last title.

"No? Let's just
say they did solid numbers. Nothing like
Jaqui's World
, mind you— But
listen, I've been thinking about you and your set-up:
A psychic detective
show
. I could sell that to
the
majors
!"

"I don't think
so—"

Silverman waved him
off, "Just
consider
the possibilities. Until then, we have the
business at hand."

Nathan looked at
Archer,
what the heck was he going on about?

Archer shrugged in reply
and said to the TV producer, "Excuse me, Mister Silverman? We have an
appointment to speak with Missus Scott right now. Maybe we could continue this
conversation subsequent to that discussion actually taking place."

Silverman frowned and
gave Natalie a scolding look.

Natalie said, "I'm
sorry. I explained Mister Silverman's request to Sergeants Jacobs and Ramirez,
and they assured us you'd be on board."

Archer narrowed her
gaze at Natalie who shrunk from her scrutiny, "They said we'd be
on
board
, huh? What are we talking about here?"

Silverman interceded, "Jaqui
and I were discussing the situation – Mister Miller's joining the investigation
– and we felt that it should really be part of the show."

Nathan shook his head,
"That's not going to happen."

Silverman wasn't
giving up, "At least negotiate. We're offering great exposure for your
business, plus compensation for your appearance. Let's say scale times five for
you, and scale plus ten for your associates here."

Natalie nodded in
agreement as if it was indeed a good deal.

Archer was shaking her
head, incensed at having been set-up by her fellow detectives.

Laurel appeared
interested, but she held her tongue and looked to Nathan's lead.

"I'm sure that's
a very generous offer, but I must decline," Nathan told them. "Now,
if you'll excuse us, we need to speak with Mister Franklin's widow about his
murder."

Silverman didn't like
being put off, but he knew to ease up, though perhaps not to back down
entirely. "Natalie, why don't you show the detectives into the piano room
while I go fetch the shyster and have a quick chat with Jaqui," Silverman
said.

Archer held up her
palm to halt him, "It would be in your best interests if she comes to
speak with us shortly. Because if Jaqui should have a change of heart and
decide not to talk to Mister Miller, here— Well, that might look like
obstruction of justice on your part, Mister Silverman."

Silverman appeared
cowed, but was turning bitter.

Laurel jumped in, "On
the other hand. Should she continue to cooperate,
I
might see fit to
appear in your program."

Silverman frowned, but
he took a closer glance at Laurel and clearly appreciated her looks. "And
just who are you?"

"My name's Laurel
Comfort. I'm an investigator representing the City Attorney, David Fletcher."

Silverman took a
moment to consider it. "Natalie, get Miss Comfort a release form."

Nathan suppressed a
smile.
Yeah, Fletcher knew how to pick ‘em.

The piano room was aptly named, as an
ebony baby grand was at the heart of the space. Without the piano it was merely
a sitting room, although it was a nice, cozy room to be sure. Laurel sat with
Natalie on the couch and filled out the assorted paperwork for her reality
debut. Meanwhile, Archer was occupied with studying their surroundings as it
was her first visit to the home.

Nathan moved close to
Archer and spoke to her privately, "I know you'll want to be in the interview.
But I think it's going to be a full house, so I'd prefer to lead the
questioning while you run interference with the entourage."

"Sounds fine,
Miller. I'm not the primary on this case and damn if I'm doing the work for
those jackasses after they queered things with Silverman," Archer scowled.
Then she softened, "But I reserve the right to follow-up once you're
through with her."

"Afraid I might
miss something?" he grinned.

"Nope, just
afraid you won't tell me everything. You operate in a bubble, Miller," she
replied. "And not that I mind, but where are Jacobs and Ramirez? And the
Lieutenant? They're the blessed leads on this case and they don't show up for an
interview with their main suspect? Tell me, Nathan, why aren't they here?"

"Internal Affairs
had a file on Jacobs back when he was a junior grade, but nothing stuck. Maybe
he avoids me because he's dirty, maybe he just doesn't like the rat squad, even
former members. Sergeant Ramirez is a devout Catholic who kisses his rosary and
recites a Hail Mary at the mere mention of my name. He thinks I'm a witch
doctor," Nathan said.

"And the Lieutenant?"

"He's a
politician now. And he isn't in Fletcher's camp."

"So he belongs to
the Mayor?"

Nathan gave a nod.
Just because he didn't care about the politics didn't mean that he wasn't
keeping track of the players.

"Okay, thanks for
the clarification. I know you fancy yourself above it all, but remember that me
and Laurel have to keep working with these people, alright?" Archer said.

"I don't betray
my people, Archer. I'm not going to leave you twisting," he replied.

"And Laurel?"

As if on cue, Laurel
called to them from the couch, her face beaming. In a false whisper she said "I'm
getting almost a thousand dollars!"

Nathan smiled and said
to Archer, "I think she can handle herself."