“I’d never met him before so…no, I have no idea who would want him dead or what he knew.” The lies tripped easily off my tongue, but I’d learned a lot playing poker and knew how to keep a straight face.
“Oh…okay,” she said, wishing I could have been more helpful. She glanced at her notes. She was thinking she could write that the person who found him, (me), arrived only moments after his death, but didn’t see or hear anything suspicious. And said person (still me), believed it had to be a disgruntled client. If she could only find out who some of Killpack’s clients were, it would help her get a better angle for her story. Like if there was a mob boss, or a senator, or a rich guy, or something along those lines. “Do you know who any of his clients were? Did someone refer you to him?”
“No,” I answered, surprised by how close she was to the truth. “I just knew him by reputation. From what I heard, he was really good at his job, and it’s hard to believe someone got the drop on him. He must have known them, because there was no sign of a struggle.”
“Really?” she perked up. “That’s good. Anything else?”
“No, and I’m afraid I’m out of time.”
“Well…thanks then.” She glanced at me with speculation in her eyes, wondering what I was hiding and why. “Sorry I interrupted your dinner. If you remember anything of interest, please let me know. Here’s my card.”
She handed me her card and left, thinking I knew more than I was telling, but until she could figure out what, she’d have to go another route. Too bad the only thing Killpack told her in their one phone conversation was how to do a better job with her reporting. It wasn’t anything useful to the story she was working on. Wow, had she only just talked to him last week? It was still a little spooky that he was dead now. Who could have killed him? Could it be related to her story? What she really needed was a list of Killpack’s clients. If she could only figure out how to get Dimples to share what he knew with her, that would help. Maybe if she took him some homemade cookies? She’d heard it said that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, so maybe that would soften him up.
Shaking my head, I closed the door. It rattled me that she thought I knew more than I was telling. Which was basically true, but how could she tell? I thought I had a good poker face. So what gave me away? Then it hit me that she’d thought “Dimples” instead of Harris. Oh boy…was I in trouble now, and there was nothing I could do about it. I hurried back into the kitchen, but everyone had disappeared, leaving the food still on the table. Since I wasn’t hungry anymore, I picked up my plate and scraped the half-eaten food down the disposal.
At least everyone had cleaned up their dirty dishes and put them in the dishwasher. But why was it that no one liked to put the leftover food away? Feeling unappreciated, and a little guilty about how I’d shoved Chris out of my way, I finished clearing up and left to find him. He was in his study checking the news for homicides on the Internet.
“Hi honey,” I said. “Where did everyone go in such a hurry?”
He mumbled something about Savannah and Josh having things to do before glancing at me with disappointment and wondering why this always happened. Things had been going so smoothly, and he’d almost forgotten that I could read minds, which was such a relief. Why couldn’t it just stay like that? He should have known something would happen to rock the boat. And now I’d found a dead body? And he had to hear about it from a reporter?
“So did Manetto call you or something?” he asked. He couldn’t imagine me getting into trouble without Manetto somehow involved in the whole thing. Why hadn’t I told Manetto I was finished working for him liked I’d planned? That was the only way to stop being involved with him. So why didn’t I tell him off? Dammit! Was this going to turn into another nightmare?
I opened my mouth to answer what he said, rather than what he thought, but anger was churning my blood to the boiling point. Didn’t he know I could hear him? I clenched my jaw and tried not to snap back at him.
“I thought…” he began.
“I know what you thought,” I said sharply, cutting him off. “And just in case you’ve forgotten, I know everything you’re thinking. I already feel bad enough that I let him talk me into helping him today, and your thoughts about how I didn’t tell him off are just making it worse. Do you think I like helping him? Do you think I want to do what he asks?”
Chris sucked in his breath. Wow, I was really upset. He instantly regretted his ‘knee-jerk’ reaction, but he hadn’t been prepared for this. “Maybe we’d better start over,” he said.
“And just so you know,” I continued. “Everything that happens isn’t always my fault like you think it is.”
To my shock, he came to my side and wrapped me in his arms. “I know, honey, and I’m sorry I got mad. It just took me by surprise, especially after the last few weeks. I’m sure you don’t like this any more than I do, and I’m sorry I thought that. So what’s going on? Tell me what happened. I’m sure it’s not as bad as I think.”
I could hardly believe that Chris was apologizing for his thoughts. He’d never done that before. A part of me melted inside, and I sank into his warm embrace. “Thanks. It means a lot that you’d say that.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t said it before now,” he replied. “It’s just…lately things have been going so well. I guess I just wanted it to stay that way. But it’s okay, we’ll figure this out. So what did Manetto want?”
I took a deep breath, letting all the anger drain away. “Uncle Joey called this morning with a quick errand for me. Remember when I came home from Orlando in the limo with Uncle Joey and how I picked up that the chauffeur was spying on him?”
“Oh, yeah.” He pursed his lips, not liking the reminder that I’d spent a week in Orlando with Ramos.
“Uncle Joey found out he was a private investigator and asked me to visit him. He wanted to know if there was anything else I could glean from his mind,” I continued. “But when I got there, he was dead.”
Chris sucked in his breath and dropped his arms. He rubbed his forehead in the way he always does when he gets upset and began to pace a little. The lawyer part of him kicked in, and he began to pepper me with questions. “Were you alone? Where was the secretary?”
“A late lunch, I guess.”
“And you had an appointment?”
“Yeah. Uncle Joey set it up, but I got there about half an hour early.” I shuddered, remembering all that blood. “He was still warm when I checked his pulse. But it gets worse.” I glanced at Chris with an apologetic smile, knowing this was really going to upset him.
“What?” he growled, knowing that look.
“He wrote a name on a notepad before he died. It was all squiggly and hard to read, like he was writing it after he’d been shot. Anyway…it was mine.”
“Yours?” A moment of disbelief crossed his mind before it sank in. “Damn!” Chris closed his eyes but managed to stay in control. “Where’s the paper?” he asked. “I need to see it.”
“Uh…Ramos took it.” I cringed just a little, knowing Chris wasn’t going to like that.
“Huh? So Ramos was there too?”
“No. I mean he was, but not when I got there. Ramos was supposed to meet me in front of the building. Uncle Joey sent him for my protection, but since I was early, I didn’t see him until after I’d talked to the police. From there, Ramos and I went to a corner café down the street, and I told him what happened and showed him the note. He asked to keep it, so I let him. I think he wanted to make sure I didn’t lose it or something, although I never actually heard him say that…it was, you know…in the back of his mind?”
“Okay,” Chris said. He was thinking that the note put a whole new spin on things and made it look like I was the murderer. It was a good thing I’d snatched it up.
“It does?” I gasped.
“Yes. It’s the first thing the police would have picked up on. So now Ramos has it. What the hell is he going to do with it?” Chris was thinking that Ram
os would give it to Manetto who could hold it over my head, making things even worse than they already were. I shouldn’t have let that note out of my sight.
“I don’t think that’s what Uncle Joey would do,” I said. “I think he’d try to help me.”
Chris exhaled in frustration. “Have you forgotten who these people are? How can you trust them? They’re criminals!”
“I know, but…”
“For all you know Manetto could have set this whole thing up. I know it doesn’t make sense, unless he wanted to use you to bring somebody out into the open. Or just let his enemies know he doesn’t fool around when they mess with him.”
“Chris…stop. He wouldn’t have sent me there if he knew Killpack would be dead. You’re jumping to the wrong conclusions.”
“Maybe,” Chris conceded. “But when you’re working for someone like Manetto, you shouldn’t be so trusting. With people like that…as long as you follow their rules, they’ll let you live, but the minute you break them, they’ll turn on you. Especially if you know too much.”
I didn’t want to believe it, but part of me knew it was true. If I turned on him, would Uncle Joey really get rid of me? Wasn’t that why I always did what he asked? Still, it didn’t seem possible that he’d actually kill me. And what about Ramos? No way would he do it. So Chris had to be wrong. Right?
“That’s why I always make sure I know as little as possible,” I said.
Chris sighed and his shoulders drooped. “Shelby.” He pulled me into his arms and held me tight. He felt bad that he’d probably scared me, but this was just one more situation that drove him crazy. He didn’t know what would come of it, and it worried him. He wished for the thousandth time that I’d never had anything to do with Manetto.
“Maybe it’s not so bad.” I tried to console him. “Dimples is the detective investigating the murder, and I told him I’d help him with the case if he needed me. I don’t think you have to worry about me so much. It’s probably just a disgruntled client who killed Killpack. Besides, I’m too valuable to Uncle Joey for him to ever want me dead. And I know Ramos would never do it.”
“Yeah…right.” Chris didn’t like Ramos much. He knew in his gut that Ramos cared for me. Hell, he’d saved my life too many times not to. In one way it was okay, because Ramos would have a hard time killing me if Manetto ordered it. But on the other hand, he didn’t want Ramos to get any ideas about me. I was his, and he wasn’t sharing.
“Honey,” I said. “I love you. I know this is a bad situation and I’m sorry. Please try not to worry too much. It’s going to be fine.” I didn’t acknowledge his thoughts about Ramos, knowing that talking about it wouldn’t do any good, and kissed him instead. Soon he wasn’t thinking about anything else but me. Just how I liked it.
“Mom!” Savannah called. “Where are you?”
We heard her coming down the hall and reluctantly pulled apart.
“I’m in the study,” I called, trying to keep my tone steady, even though my heart was pumping like I’d just run a fifty-meter dash.
She popped her head in. “I promised Ash I’d come over to help her with her… homework.” She was thinking about putting purple and blue steaks in her hair. It would look so cute. “Can you take me over?”
“What are you doing to your hair?” I asked.
“What? I never said…it’s homework not hair.”
“Hmm…let me think about it.” I pursed my lips, trying to decide what to do. I couldn’t let her ruin her beautiful golden locks with purple and blue streaks. Yikes! That would look terrible. I decided to go with the more direct approach. “I have a feeling there’s more going on here. Must be my premonitions. Care to explain?”
“There’s nothing else going on,” she said, thinking that sometimes she hated my premonitions. They always ruined everything. Why couldn’t I just be normal, like everyone else’s parents. “We’re just doing homework.”
“You know if you come home and there’s something different with your hair, I’m going to know that you lied to me, right?” I asked. “You know what happens when you get lied to. It means you can’t trust that person as much, and that leads to restricting their freedom. It’s called being accountable for your actions.”
“I know mom,” she moaned. “I’ve heard it a thousand times already. All summer long. It’s all you ever talk about. I’m not doing anything wrong, okay? It’s just a little hair dye. It comes out after you wash it a few times. Geez.”
“Really? It comes out?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, even though she thought it probably wouldn’t. All that mattered to her was getting it done with her friends.
Chris was shaking his head, thinking that I needed to cut Savannah some slack and let her be a teenager. If the only crazy thing she ever did was color her hair, what was so bad about that?
I turned to him and narrowed my eyes. “You know she’s only twelve, right? She’s not a teenager yet.”
“Um…okay,” he said.
I wasn’t ready to let her ruin her hair, so I made a proposition I hoped I wouldn’t regret. “Okay, but I’m coming with you. I know how to do streaks, and I’m not sure you do.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “In fact, it might look better if you just do the tips of your hair. I’ve seen that a lot, and I know how to do that too. But you should probably only do one color.”
“Seriously? Like… I was just thinking I’d like that better! So you can do that?”
“Sure. I just need some tin foil.”
“Okay!” Savannah bounced off to get the foil.
“But I’ll only do it if it washes out!” I yelled after her. I turned to Chris. “Okay, well, I guess I know what I’m doing tonight.”
“Do you really know how to do her hair like that?” Chris asked.
“What? You think I’m lying?”
“Of course not,” he said with a sly smile. “I mean…I don’t know, am I?”
“Nope. You’re thinking that you’d better play nice or I might be mad at you, and a happy wife means a happy life. Right?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was thinking,” he said.
“Uh-huh,” I murmured.
“Come on Mom!” Savannah yelled. “I’ve got the tin foil!”
I shook my head, wondering what I’d gotten into, and turned to leave. Chris caught my wrist and quickly pulled me into his arms. “We’ll talk more about this later,” he said, holding me tightly. “And I promise it will go better.” He was thinking that he loved me, and the main reason he got so upset was that it worried him that someday he’d get a phone call, or the police would show up to tell him I was dead. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing me.
“Thanks honey,” I said. Having his arms around me was like getting a happy shot, and I felt warm and protected. This situation was difficult, and I knew it wasn’t fair to put him through it, but I also knew I didn’t want to leave him out. I’d tried that before, and it hadn’t worked out so well. He wanted to be included in my dealings with Uncle Joey, but it was hard when he got so mad. On the other hand, how could I blame him? I’d be upset too. I was upset. I just needed to get control of the situation. I needed to take charge and use my ability to get what was necessary, so I wouldn’t be a victim in all this. And Chris could help me do it. It wasn’t bigger than both of us together. I kissed him quickly before walking out the door.
Chapter 4
The second morning of school was a little less frantic than the first, mostly because Savannah got ready early, excited to show off the blue tips in her hair. She’d also worn a lot of blue, which I thought was counterintuitive, but I kept my mouth shut. The only thing that marred her grand entrance was that both Chris and Joshua failed to notice anything different. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, I didn’t point out that it was most likely because her blue hair blended into her blue shirt. I also knew there wasn’t time for her to change before the carpool picked her up.
A
fter Chris and the kids left, the whole incident from yesterday came crashing down around me, and I wondered if I should call Uncle Joey. It would be nice to know what was going on. But since I figured he’d call if he found out anything new, I decided to get my mind off it by doing some work on my consulting agency.
I had a client who wanted some help finding out what her teenage daughter did while she was at work. She was worried about drugs and boys, so I figured there was a good chance she was right. Usually a parent’s intuition is spot on, as long as they’re willing to look at it. Most parents don’t want to believe the truth, so they turn a blind eye to the signs and hope it will just go away. This didn’t help them or their kids.
My client was surprised that I only wanted to talk to them both, rather than follow her daughter around. But I convinced her I could get the truth out of her without all that spy stuff. Now I just needed to set up a time to meet.
I picked up my phone and noticed the newspaper on the table. My gaze was drawn to the front page where a picture of Sam Killpack next to the caption “Private Investigator Murdered” was featured on the bottom half of the page. Billie Payne was named in the byline, and my stomach tightened. I scanned the print for any mention of my name, realizing I hadn’t told her not to use it when she came over last night. Damn! There it was!
It read, “Shelby Nichols, a colleague in the business, discovered the body when she came to confer with the victim about a case they were working on together.” That didn’t seem too bad, but then she went on to quote me with: “I don’t know who did this, but it looks like Killpack got too close to the truth in a case he was working on and was killed for it.” Did I really say that? She went on to add that because of my proximity to the murder, I had offered my services to the police in helping them solve the case. She even mentioned how I had solved the mystery of the missing money from the bank robbery a few months ago, and hoped my involvement in this case would help catch the killer.