Читать книгу Paw and Order - V.M. Burns - Страница 10

Chapter 2

“My God, what happened?” Jacob whispered in my ear.

I hadn’t even realized he was there until he spoke. I shook my head. “No idea.”

Red squatted near the body and felt for a pulse. He stood up and pulled out his shield. “I’m going to need everyone to please go back into the main area and wait until the police arrive.” He beckoned to Jacob. “I need you to get to Security and make sure every door is locked. No one leaves.”

Jacob nodded, turned and hurried as quickly as a man in a heavy compression boot could, to take care of Red’s request.

The crowd which had come in response to the scream, slowly returned to the main room.

A woman dressed in a short black dress was leaning against a pillar. From the way her hand was shaking, I knew she was the screamer.

I wanted to ask a million questions but Red held up his hand to forestall the barrage while he pulled out his cell phone. He called the police and reported the murder, indicating there was a TBI officer on the scene. When he was done, he turned to Dixie who had come to stand beside me. “Can you find Dr. Morgan?”

Like Jacob, Dixie looked dazed. After a few seconds, she nodded and stumbled away muttering under her breath. “Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir.”

Red frowned and glanced at me.

I smiled at the look of utter confusion on his face. “It’s a quote from Romeo and Juliet.” I inclined my head in Dixie’s direction. “She quotes literature when she’s nervous.”

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

As much as I tried, I couldn’t drag my eyes away from Archibald’s rear. “It seems so undignified. Can you at least pull down his kilt, so he isn’t so…exposed?” I whispered.

Red shook his head. “Sorry, but we can’t touch anything. This is a crime scene, and everything must be left exactly as it’s found.”

In my head, I knew the red pool of blood I saw seeping under the body meant Archibald Lowry’s death couldn’t have been due to natural causes. However, my mind refused to grasp the fact that someone I was acquainted with, no matter how slightly, had just been violently murdered. “Are you sure it was murder?”

He nodded and walked over to the screamer.

I followed in time to hear him ask, “Can you tell me what happened?”

She looked up at Red and shook her head. “I came from the bathroom.” She pointed a shaking finger in the direction of the ladies’ room. “I saw him lying on the ground with all that blood.” She turned even paler than she was before, a feat I wouldn’t have thought physically possible. She clutched her hand to her mouth and ran to the ladies’ room. She was thin and fit and made the sprint in four-inch heels, which elevated her athletic status considerably in my opinion.

Red looked like he was going to follow her, but that’s when Dr. Morgan arrived. Red gave me a pleading look and inclined his head toward the ladies’ room.

I nodded. Still clutching the poodle to my chest, I hurried to the restroom to check on the high heeled sprinter.

I halted inside the door. I could tell by the retching sound coming from one of the stalls that she’d made it in time. Motherhood had numbed me to practically every type of sickness involving bodily fluids. However, there was something about the sound of someone puking which caused me to shudder and want to plug my ears. I was ashamed to admit I stood as far away from that stall as the cramped confines of the restroom allowed. I turned on the water in the sink and pushed the button for the hand dryer, all in an attempt to blot out the noise. It didn’t work.

She flushed the toilet and I pretended I was washing my hands. I stood at the sink with a toy poodle cupped between my chin and my neck. His claws gripped the top of my dress and he clung to my shoulder like a parrot. He was frightened and I could feel his little body shivering. I felt sorry for the poor little guy, but this dress had been a splurge. Dixie had driven me to Atlanta to a designer shop where there were belts that cost more than my monthly rent payment. However, when the clerk held up this dress, the heavens parted, angels sang, and I wept. When I saw the tag I wept more, but I still handed over my credit card. It had cost a small fortune, but it fit like a glove. The fabric felt like butter and floated on my hips like some type of fairy fabric. It was perfect and I knew if I hadn’t gotten it, I’d regret it. I fully intended I’d someday be buried in this dress, so, while I was sad this cute little guy had lost his owner, he was going to need to come off. I didn’t want to ruin a dress I paid a king’s ransom for the very first time I’d worn it. I reached up and extracted him, taking care to avoid snags.

The sprinting screamer stumbled to the sink, turned on the tap and put her head down as close to the bowl as possible. She drank from the stream of water, then swished it around and spit. When she was done, she gripped the counter and stared at her reflection. “That was awful.” She had a slight accent.

“I’m so sorry. Were you close to Archibald Lowry?”

A look of fright crossed her face but was quickly replaced with a smile that was more like a grimace. “What makes you ask that?” She forced a fake laugh.

“You found him and you seem really upset…” I tried to make my tone sound concerned rather than accusatory.

“Well, I didn’t know him at all. I just happened upon a dead body.” She fidgeted to turn off the faucets and remove all traces of her discomposure. “Stumbling across someone who’s just been brutally beaten and stabbed would upset any normal person.”

She emphasized normal as though to indicate that I wasn’t. Previously, I felt compassion for her. However, that dried up quickly, especially as she glanced at me as though I was the hired help, which technically I was, but that wasn’t the point.

“How did you know he’d been brutally beaten and stabbed?”

She took a tissue and patted at her face, but then glanced at my reflection in the mirror. “What?”

“He was lying on his stomach, face down. It was impossible to see his face, and you certainly couldn’t have seen the wound.” I wet a tissue and casually wiped the poodle’s paws. “If you just stumbled across his dead body, how did you know he’d been brutally beaten and stabbed.”

“In case you missed it, Nancy Drew, there was a rather large pool of blood beneath him. Anyone with common sense could see that he must have been stabbed.”

Oh, it was on, now. “Nancy Drew was a teenager with a college boyfriend who played varsity sports. My boyfriend is that Tennessee Bureau of Investigations Officer out there and you’ll have to work on your acting skills before you try that routine on him.” If I hadn’t been holding a poodle, I might have given her a neck roll and two finger snaps. Thankfully, Indulf prevented me from being more obnoxious.

After a long pause, she gave a nervous giggle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just, well, I barely knew the man and I certainly don’t want to get dragged into this nasty business simply because I stumbled across his body after he was murdered.”

I lowered the eyebrow I’d raised and tried to look as neutral as possible.

She sighed. “I’m just scared. I mean, someone killed that man. If the killer thought I might have seen something, I could be in danger too.”

The fact that it was the truth made this story much more powerful than the last performance she’d tried. She wasn’t covered in blood and despite the four-inch heels, I doubted she could have plunged a knife or sword into Archibald Lowry’s chest. He may not have been a young man, but he looked burly and was probably strong enough to have at least put up a fight. I didn’t believe she killed him, but I still didn’t like her. “Understandable, but what did you see?”

“Not much. I saw the man in the kilt arguing with someone. I couldn’t tell who, because he was behind the pillar. The next thing I know, the other guy takes one of those weapons, bashes the old guy in the face and then plunges…” She took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “That’s when I screamed and ran.”

“Well, you didn’t get far.”

“No, I started to feel sick, so I looked around for a place to…well, you know.” She waved her hand in a manner that made me ask.

“Where’d you get sick?”

“Large planter outside.”

I’d have to remember to tell the cleaning crew.

“I’d just finished when I saw you two coming around the corner.”

There was a knock on the door. “Lilly, are you okay?”

I walked to the door and opened it. “Yes, I’m fine.” I held the door open so Red could enter.

He glanced around and, seeing that we were the only ones here, he walked inside. He turned to the screamer who was reapplying her lipstick. “Are you okay?”

She pursed her lips and then took a tissue and blotted the excess before responding. “Of course, it was just a shock.”

He took out a notepad. “I’m Dennis Olson with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigations and I need to ask you a few questions.”

She turned. “Of course, but as I was telling your girlfriend, I didn’t know the man who was murdered.”

Red glanced at me and I gave a slight shake of my head. “Well, let’s start with your name.”

She paused long enough for me to suspect that the name was a fabrication. “Fiona Darling.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a business card, sauntered over to Red and handed it to him.

She stood so close that when she leaned back against the counter and flipped her thick red hair, it landed on Red’s shoulder. It took every ounce of my willpower to keep from flipping it off.

Red seemed oblivious as he read her card. “Darling Detective Agency?”

“Yes, I’m a private investigator, although I’m not here tonight in any type of professional capacity.” She flashed a smile which nearly blinded me.

I barely noticed her perfume when she was at the other side of the room, however, up close and personal, it was overpowering and caused my eyes to water.

“What did bring you here tonight?” Red asked.

She reached over and scratched Indulf behind the ear. Even though poodles are not known for being aggressive, I wouldn’t have minded if he’d tried to amputate a finger or two. To my dismay, the little traitor merely wiggled and licked her hand.

“Aren’t you cute.” She leaned down and cooed.

Indulf missed another opportunity to show his loyalty and merely wiggled more and licked her hand.

She chuckled. “I just love dogs.” She looked at me. “What kind is he?”

That set off mental alarms. “He’s a poodle.”

She colored, but tried to downplay her faux pas. “Well, of course he is.”

Indulf redeemed himself when he sneezed in her face.

She froze for a few seconds, then took a tissue and patted her skin.

I gave Indulf an extra pat. “Good boy,” I whispered.

“Miss Darling, can you tell me what you saw?” Red asked.

Fiona Darling related the same tale she’d told me, however this time she stressed that she hadn’t seen the actual murderer. She fluttered her eyelashes and leaned in, keeping a hand on Red’s arm much longer than I deemed necessary. I wasn’t a jealous person, but Fiona Darling was an attractive woman, endowed with a couple of attributes which made her stand out. And she was certainly trying to use them to her advantage.

Red asked a few other questions, but then allowed the redheaded gumshoe to leave with a promise to make herself available for further questioning.

Her hips swayed far more than necessary as she sashayed out of the women’s room. When she left, Red turned to me. “What do you think?”

“She wears too much perfume, she practically tossed herself at your feet and she wears way too much makeup. I don’t like her. More importantly, what did you think?” I glanced at him. “She’s an attractive woman.”

“I didn’t notice.”

I stared at him, hand on hip. “Really? You didn’t notice a tall, thin, redheaded bombshell with stunning blue eyes who flung her hair on your shoulder.” I demonstrated the fling.

“Not my type.”

“Really? What part exactly? Tall? Thin? Blue-eyed? Gorgeous? That’s not your type? Are you seriously going to tell me you prefer…what? Short, fat—”

He hovered his hand over my head. “I prefer about…yay tall, dark haired and dark-eyes.”

I suppressed a smiled. “Fat?”

He came even closer and put his arms around my waist. “I prefer curvaceous.” He leaned down close to my ear. “With a razor-sharp mind, a generous heart and…” His lips grazed my ear.

“And?” I breathed hard.

“And, I prefer a woman who is intelligent enough to recognize a poodle when she sees one.”

We kissed. After a few moments he repeated his question from earlier. “What did you think?”

“I think that was a good answer.”

His lips twitched. “I meant about her story.”

“She’s hiding something.”

He grinned. “Agreed.” He pulled me close. “Jealous?”

“Of course not,” I lied. “Should I be?”

He kissed me. “Absolutely not, but it would make me happy if you were.”

There was something in his eyes that told me he was telling the truth. He kissed me again and I forgot about Fiona Darling. When we separated, he said, “I’m going to be here for quite a while. I can get one of the patrol cars to take you home—”

“I’m sure Dixie and Beau will make sure I get back to my house safely.”

He nodded and started to speak, but the door opened. An older woman took a couple of steps inside but halted when she saw Red and I.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I—”

Red apologized and we both left.

He got stopped by one of the detectives, so I went in search of Dixie and Beau.

I spotted Jacob near one of the buffet tables with the other members of our dog class, B.J., Monica Jill and Dr. Morgan.

Bobbie Jean Thompson, B.J. to her friends, was a short, African American woman with dark skin and a big personality. “Girl, I knew you’d have the scoop. What’s that fine looking TBI man of yours got to say about this mess?”

“He said he’s going to be here awhile.”

“You know what I mean. Does he know who did it?” B.J. asked.

“Not yet, but he just found the poor man.”

B.J. shook her head. “Poor man my big toe. Archibald Lowry is one of the richest men in the state. They say when the government needs a loan, they call Archibald Lowry.”

“Did you know him?” I asked.

“Pshaw.” She snorted. “Archibald Lowry and I didn’t mix in the same social circles.” She stared down her nose at me and I laughed.

“I don’t think Archibald Lowry mixed in anybody’s social circle,” Monica Jill whispered. Monica Jill Nelson was tall and thin with long dark hair and dark eyes. She was my realtor and had helped me find the house I was currently renting and hoping to soon buy.

“I can’t believe someone was actually murdered.” Jacob took a sip of champagne. “The board of directors is going to freak out.”

“Did you call Linda Kay?” I asked.

Linda Kay Weyman was our boss. She was a kind-hearted woman who had gone to bat for me and convinced the board to allow the event to take place at the museum. I felt horrible thinking that doing a favor for me would cause her distress.

He nodded.

I sighed. “Maybe they’ll accept my resignation in lieu of Linda Kay’s head on a silver charger.”

“You’ve worked here long enough to know Linda Kay will never stand for that.” He blushed. “Bad choice of words.”

Linda Kay ran the museum. Even though she only had one leg, she was certainly a force to be reckoned with. A southern lady with style and gentility, she had a spine of steel. I’d place money on Linda Kay in any fight she undertook. However, I certainly didn’t intend for her to have to fight on my behalf. After all, Jacob was a permanent employee and I was merely a temp.

“Well, I don’t intend for Linda Kay to take on the board of directors on my behalf,” I said.

Jacob took another sip from his champagne. “She’s already working on damage control.”

“We can’t have you losing your job over a murder you had nothing to do with.” B.J. tossed back a glass of champagne. “I guess we’ll just need to make this right.”

I stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“We’ll just have to solve the murder.” She looked at me. “And by we, I mean you.” She gave me another stare. “If we catch the murderer, then the board won’t be angry, and you keep your job.”

“I can’t find a murderer. Are you drunk?”

She grabbed another glass of champagne. “Not yet, but I’m working on it.”

“Working on what?” Dixie joined our group.

I stared at my friend. “B.J.’s lost her mind.”

“Honey, that’s not the issue. I lost that a long time ago.” She chugged back another glass of champagne. “This stuff is pretty good.”

“Don’t you dare get drunk and puke in a planter. We’ve already had one person do that tonight.”

“Ughh.” Jacob rolled his eyes and sipped his champagne. “I don’t even want to know.”

“I’m not drunk.” She smiled. “Not yet anyway. However, I could use a few more glasses of this bubbly liquid courage.”

“What are you all talking about?” Dixie asked.

“B.J. thinks I need to solve this murder.”

Monica Jill picked up a glass of champagne. “B.J.’s not the only one.”

“Et tu, Brute?”

“Et tu?” B.J. stared. “Was that some kind of sneeze?”

I chuckled. “It’s from Shakespeare. It’s what Julius Caesar said when he saw Brutus, the person he thought was his friend,” I looked pointedly at Monica Jill, “was involved in the plot to murder him. It means, You too, Brutus?”

Monica Jill nodded. “Yep, me too.”

I turned to Dixie. “They’re all crazy. Maybe there’s something in the champagne.” I stared in my glass.

“What’s so crazy about it?” Dixie looked at me. “It’s not like this is your first rodeo.”

I stared at her as though she’d lost her mind and then glanced at all of them. “I think you’ve all gone crazy.” I reached over and took each of their glasses of champagne which was a challenge while cuddling a poodle who was trying to drink from the fluted glasses.

Dixie took the poodle.

“Thank you.” I placed the fluted glasses down and turned back to my friends. “I’m not a detective and just because I got lucky a couple of times doesn’t mean I plan to quit my day job and become Nancy Drew.”

All three women and Jacob stared back at me.

Dixie turned to B.J. “In the words of Queen Gertrude from Hamlet, ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’”

“Uh huh.” B.J. nodded. “Methinks so too.”

“Yep, ditto,” Monica Jill said.

I glanced at Jacob.

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t even look in my direction.”

I picked up a glass of champagne from the table and downed it. This was going to be a challenge. “You’ve all lost your minds.”