Florida Heat

  “That doesn’t seem fair. You get the gorgeous detective and the guys get someone who is so buff, no one would be able to punk him.”

  Julie snorted in spite of herself. “She was pretty. But what I don’t understand is why nobody said anything.”

  Now Marques looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  Julie took another deep breath and realized she was actually starting to feel better.

  “The detective asked if anyone knew about Sherry and her boyfriend. And no one said anything.”

  “Maybe nobody knew anything to tell.”

  “That’s just it,” the words nearly exploded out of her. “Marques, the day I met Sherry at the mall, I was with Nicole and Willow. She showed us a picture of her new boyfriend. She said his name was Ricky and how she’d met him online.”

  “And Nicole and Willow heard this?”

  “Yes, Nicole even commented about the quality of the picture. I mean I know they didn’t like her. They made that very clear. But why wouldn’t they tell the detective what they knew?”

  “That’s not right,” Marques said. “If you have information that might help, you need to tell the police.”

  “I wanted to,” Julie said quietly, “but I kept waiting for one of them to say something. They’ve known Sherry for ages and I’d only met her a week before. But they just sat there like it was a big joke or something.”

  Marques shook his head in disgust. “I don’t care if you like her or not. If you have information you’ve got to tell.”

  Julie dug the detective’s card out of her purse. “Would you wait with me while I do?”

  “Sure, and Julie,” he smiled at her, “you’re doing the right thing.”

  Julie sent a text to the detective and within minutes got a reply. “Stay where you are, I’ll meet you at the coffee shop. Thanks!”

  “Well, now I’ve done it,” she said, slipping the phone back into her purse.

  “So now do you want something to drink?” Marques asked. “I could use a latte.”

  She smiled. “Make it two.”

  True to her word Kate arrived ten minutes later and found Julie and Marques still at their back table.

  “Thanks for calling,” she said taking a seat. She looked at Marques, “I don’t think I met you today, I’m Detective Snow.”

  “I’m Marques Brown. Would you like some coffee?”

  “Thanks, but I’m fine. You’re Julie Finch, right?” When the girl nodded, Kate continued. “So who has the information?”

  Julie sat up a little straighter. “I do. Today when you asked if anyone knew about Sherry or her boyfriend I thought the other girls were going to say something. They’ve known Sherry longer than I have.”

  “But they didn’t,” Kate said. “Do you know why?”

  “Sherry wasn’t popular,” Julie offered. “Well that’s not exactly right. Sherry wasn’t popular with that crowd. It’s probably better to say most of the girls in that room didn’t like her.”

  “And that’s why they didn’t want to talk to me?”

  “I guess. But Marques and I talked it over and I, we, don’t think that’s right.”

  Kate watched the two teens link hands under the table. “And you have some information that you think will help?”

  “Sherry did have a boyfriend. The day I met her she showed us his picture. She said she’d met him on the Internet.”

  Kate took out her notepad. “Did she give you a name?”

  Julie nodded. “Yes, she called him Ricky.”

  Kate stopped writing and looked up. “Are you sure she said Ricky?”

  “Yes, positive.”

  “Did he go to school here?”

  “No. I don’t think he was in school at all,” Julie said. “I asked her if he was taking her to the game and she said football was very passé.” She gave an apologetic glance toward Marques. “Then she said he was an older man. But she never really said how old.”

  “Did she ever tell you where they went when they went out?”

  Julie started to shake her head. “She never really said. She just sorta skirted around it. I don’t know if it was to keep it private or if she was embarrassed about it.”

  “Could you identify Ricky if you saw him?”

  “Like in a line-up?” Julie all but squeaked.

  “No, just by looking at some pictures.”

  “I don’t know. I mean I never met him but she did show us his picture once. It wasn’t a very good one cause she took it with her phone when he wasn’t looking.”

  “Would you be willing to try?”

  Julie looked at Marques who squeezed her hand even as he nodded.

  “I can try.”

  Kate pulled a stack of photos out of her bag and spread them on the table. “Take your time and take a good look. It’s okay if you don’t recognize him. Just tell me if you do.”

  “It’s him,” she pointed to Richard Smith’s previous arrest photo.

  “You’re sure?” Kate pushed. “There’s no question in your mind that this is the man whose picture Sherry showed you?”

  “No, that’s him,” Julie sighed with relief. “Wow, I thought that was going to be hard. But it was easy.”

  “You did great,” Marques said proudly.

  “Yes, you did.” Kate scooped up the pictures and slipped them back in her bag. “Is there anything else you can think of that Sherry might have said? Any indication as to where she was going to meet him or where he was going to take her, or even someplace where she hoped he would take her?”

  “I don’t think so. She was pretty secretive about Ricky. She thought he was someone really special.” Julie’s eyes began to fill again.

  Kate reached over and gave her arm a squeeze. “Julie I know what you just did was hard, but you did the right thing. You’re a good friend.”

  “Will it help you?”

  Kate rose to go. “Oh yes, it will help more than you could know. Marques it was a pleasure meeting you. Julie you still have my card. Don’t hesitate to call me if you think of anything else.”

  “I will,” Julie said. Then as she watched Kate walk away she turned to Marques. “Wait here a minute.” Jumping up she followed the detective out the door.

  “Detective Snow,” she called making Kate stop.

  “Did you think of something else?”

  “Well, not exactly. Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.” Kate watched Julie’s cheeks start to blush. “What?”

  “Could you tell me what you use on your hair to make it so shiny?”

  * * *

  Kate hurried through the doors to the Medical Examiner’s Office and found Willard sitting at his computer. “I got your text. What’s so urgent?”

  He slowly pulled his eyes from the computer screen. “The crash on Friday night – two fatalities – that was yours right?”

  Kate wondered why he always asked that when he already knew the answer. “Yep, I drew the short straw on that one. Is there something new?”

  “I wouldn’t have texted you if there wasn’t,” he said flatly.

  Kate waited. “And….”

  “Your teacher didn’t die in the crash.”

  Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. “What?” Kate gasped shaking her head. “The medics pronounced her dead at the scene. Are you telling me they made a mistake and she survived?”

  “Oh no, she’s dead all right,” he said smugly.

  “Then what,” Kate snapped, annoyed that her momentary surge of hope had just been dashed away.

  Willard stared and Kate stared back. “I’m waiting,” she said coldly. “And I haven’t got time for games or riddles, Willard. What are you talking about?”

  “It’s quite simple,” his tone turned prissy. “Your teacher didn’t die in the crash because she was already dead.”

  “What?”

  “Follow along, Detective Snow. Your teacher was poisoned. And my test results show ricin.”

  “Ric
in? Where would she get ricin?”

  “She would get it from castor beans.”

  “But where … how… why would she have castor beans?”

  “That, Detective Snow, is your problem, not mine. I can tell you that it appears the poison entered the body through her eyes, most likely in the form of eye drops. She puts the drops in and the poison has a direct route to her nervous system. She would have been dead in a matter of minutes.”

  Kate reached for a chair and sat like a marionette with the cut strings. “Oh, my, god! I watched her use eye drops on at least two occasions.”

  “That wouldn’t have done it,” he said stiffly. “The level of poison was quite high. A system cannot build a tolerance to ricin. The first time she used it in eye drops she would have died.”

  “Then she didn’t die as a result of the car crash-- she was poisoned.”

  “I believe I just said that,” Willard replied.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Waving goodbye to Marques, Julie opened her front door and stepped inside. One look at her mother’s face told her she was in big trouble.

  “You’re late,” Mrs. Finch said quietly. “Who drove you home?”

  “Marques.”

  “I thought we talked about that.”

  “No, Mom. You made up your mind about him because he plays in the Jazz Band and you haven’t even met him.”

  “So where did you go?”

  “We didn’t really go anywhere. Marques stayed with me at the coffee shop while I talked with the police.”

  “Police? Why were you talking to the police? Are you in trouble?”

  Julie dropped her books on the kitchen table. “No, I’m not in trouble and Detective Snow said I helped her a lot.”

  “And just who is this Detective Snow and how do you know her? I want to know what’s going on right now.”

  “Detective Snow came to school today. There was a really bad traffic accident last Friday night and one of the people killed was a girl that goes to my school.” Julie felt her eyes start to sting again.

  “Yes, I heard about it on the news. Did you know her?”

  Julie nodded. “I met her a week ago.”

  “Oh honey, I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Finch pulled Julie into a hard hug.

  Now the tears fell again. “It was really horrible Mom. I didn’t hear about it until this morning and it was all anyone could talk about at school.”

  “Oh, Julie,” Mrs. Finch pushed back from their hug. “But I still don’t understand what that has to do with you talking to the police.”

  “Detective Snow came with a grief counselor. She said she needed information about Sherry’s friends and especially her new boyfriend.”

  “New boyfriend?”

  “Uh huh, Sherry told us she’d met him on the Internet.”

  “But why would the detective need to know about that? What else is going on here?”

  “I don’t know. She asked me if I could identify the guy and I did.”

  “You met this boy? Were you at the police station?”

  “No, Mom, I wasn’t at the police station. Detective Snow met me at the coffee shop. She showed me a bunch of pictures and I picked him out.”

  “And how could you do that if you’d never met him?” Mrs. Finch asked suspiciously.

  “Sherry showed me his picture the first day I met her.” That disastrous day at the mall, she thought.

  “So you met with this police detective at the coffee shop to identify a boyfriend?”

  “Mmm-hmm, when she talked with us at school she asked questions. I kept waiting for the other girls to answer because they’ve known Sherry longer than I have. But nobody said anything.”

  “I see.”

  “Marques and I talked it over and he said I should tell the police what I knew. So I called Detective Snow and she came and met us.”

  “You called Marques about this?”

  Looking down, Julie missed the way her mother’s eyes went hard again. “I was really upset.” And I can’t tell you about what, she thought miserably. You’d never understand about gold fish and pink flamingos.

  “So Marques told you to call the police and you did. What else has Marques told you to do?”

  “He’s a good friend, Mom.”

  “I don’t want you seeing him again.”

  “That’s not fair!”

  “Not fair, not fair?” her mother’s voice rose. “Not fair is lying to me.”

  “I haven’t lied to you.”

  “No? Then what is the meaning of this?” Mrs. Finch held out an opened envelope with the Visa bill.

  “Oh that.” Julie scrambled to think of an excuse.

  “Oh that! Julie how in the world could you spend $400 for sunglasses?”

  “But I returned them.”

  “And that makes it okay? Why did you buy them in the first place? What were you thinking? Were you even thinking?”

  “Well I was at the mall and .…” She started to say the sales lady thought she was trying to steal them so she bought them instead and then thought of a better idea.

  “It was a mistake, okay? I returned them the next day.”

  “Did you buy them to wear to that football game?”

  “No, and it was a night game Mom. You don’t wear sunglasses to a night game.”

  “Don’t get fresh with me, young lady. I want to know why you purchased sunglasses one day and then returned them the next.”

  “I didn’t realize they were that expensive. I read the tag wrong and thought they were $40. When I got home and saw it was $400, I took them back the next day.”

  “And why would you purchase sunglasses for $40? Julie you know how tight our money is. We talked about it. And you told me you stayed within the amount we agreed on.”

  “I know, but when I saw the blouse I knew it was perfect for the skirt you made me. I didn’t think you’d mind because it was so special.”

  “So special that a $100 blouse is now laying on the floor of your room?”

  “I meant to put it in the wash.”

  “Julie you’re missing the point here. I specifically asked you if you’d stayed within our budget and you told me yes.”

  Julie hung her head. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I don’t know what upsets me more, you thinking it’s okay to buy a blouse we can’t afford or lying to me about it.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “Well sorry isn’t going to take care of it this time. You’re grounded for the next week.”

  Julie’s head snapped up. “But Mom, I have a date with Marques for the game this Friday.”

  Mrs. Finch just shook her head and turned away. “Then you’ll just have to tell him that since you lied to your mother you’re on restriction.”

  “Jeez, Mom.”

  “Don’t jeez Mom me,” she said angrily. “And it’s about time you started learning about financial responsibility. You’re going to repay me for that blouse that you ‘just had to have’.”

  “Are you going to take it out of my allowance?” she asked dejectedly.

  “No, because as of now you are no longer getting an allowance.”

  “Mom!”

  “I’ve been upset about this since I opened the bill this afternoon. I know I can’t buy you everything you think you have to have but I keep a roof over our heads and clothes on both our backs. So if you want something special, like $40 sunglasses then you’ll just have to earn the money to pay for them.”

  “And what am I supposed to do to get money?” Julie plopped down angrily on the kitchen chair. “Be the maid in this house?”

  “Don’t use that tone with me, young lady. It’s about time you started taking on your share of the work.”

  “You want me to drop out of school?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Mrs. Finch sat across from her at the table. “I have a full time job and you have school as a full time job. From now on we are going to start sharing the chores around the house. I’ll do mo
re because you have homework.”

  “And you’re going to pay me for doing the chores?”

  “Absolutely not. You’ll do them because, like me, you live in this house. No, if you want to have spending money I suggest you get yourself an after-school or weekend job.”

  “But Mom. It’s my senior year!” she wailed. “It’s bad enough we had to move and I’m doing my senior year in a new school, but if I’m working I won’t have time for anything!”

  Mrs. Finch rose from the table. “You should have thought of that before you decided to buy a blouse and sunglasses you couldn’t afford.”

  “That’s not fair,” she muttered.

  “Julie,” her mother said, “you’re going to learn that life is seldom fair. Now I suggest that you start on your homework while I get dinner. The dishes and dinner cleanup are on you tonight. Then I suggest that you start thinking of where you want to get a job. Oh, and the mall is out.”

  “What?”

  “I said the mall is out. There’s been a lot on the news about teenagers shoplifting there and I don’t want that type of people hanging around with you.”

  They already are, she thought miserably.

  “So get started on your homework. I’m making spaghetti for dinner.”

  * * *

  Kate greeted the dogs and Midnight as she walked in the door. There was a slight shoving match to see who could get the most attention until Midnight turned and hissed at everyone and the dogs willingly backed up. Kate scooped up her cat with one hand and bent to stroke the dogs with the other. “It’s okay, guys, she’s just missing her mama.”

  “And her mama is home before dark,” Jo said from the kitchen doorway. “That’s a change.”

  “It’s been a day and a half already. Any chance you made fresh iced-tea? It’s still hot enough to fry eggs on the sidewalk out there.”

  “You know I always wanted to try that. Break an egg open on some black asphalt and watch it sizzle.”

  “I’ll settle for a shower and some cold tea. Anything new today?” Kate asked, dumping the cat on the couch then turning toward Jo’s guest room.

  “Actually yes. I’ve got good news and not-so-good news.”

  Kate paused. “So spill.”

  “Mitch stopped by this morning and it seems my tire was slashed by some teens bent on hell and destruction.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope, got an eyewitness and everything.”

  “Well that is good news, I guess. What’s the not-so-good news?”

  “Richard Smith from the accident is aka Ricky Smith and he’s already one of mine.”