Killing Streak Page 6

  “Yes. We usually talk some business while we play and this morning was no exception.”

  “And he met you there at six thirty?” Jack asked. “Is it possible it was later?”

  “Well, he was a few minutes late, but if my wife looked like his, I’d find reasons to be late, too,” D’Ambrose said.

  “I hear she can be kind of wild,” Jack said.

  “I don’t know where you get your information, Detective, but I’ve never seen Corie Markham be anything but a perfect lady.” He almost seemed offended.

  “Have you seen Evan since this morning?”

  “No. And it’s unusual not to talk to him once or twice a day, but considering what you’ve told me I understand why.”

  “Can you tell me if you know a woman named Jennifer Suarez? Her name came up in the course of the investigation and we’re attempting to locate her.”

  D’Ambrose seemed to freeze for a moment before he answered. “She was Evan’s assistant for a while. Has something happened to her?”

  “Was?” Jack asked.

  “It’s been a couple of years since Jennifer worked for Evan.”

  “What can you tell me about her?” Jack asked.

  “Not much. She was Evan’s assistant, not mine. I’m not sure why he became dissatisfied. He told me he had to let her go and I had no reason to question him about how he runs his own business.”

  “Do you know how we could get in touch with her?”

  “I don’t but Aranda might.”

  Jack closed his notebook. “I appreciate you seeing us so quickly.”

  When they emerged from D’Ambrose’s office, Aranda got up and closed his door behind them with a solid thunk. “Will there be anything else?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” Jack said.

  Aranda tilted her head to the side curiously and waited.

  “We’re trying to locate a former assistant of Evan Markham’s, Jennifer Suarez. Roger said you could help us with that.”

  As with D’Ambrose, there was a small hesitation before she answered. “Of course.” Aranda sat down and pulled up some information on her computer screen, then wrote on a piece of paper which she handed to Jack.

  “Who’s this?”

  “A private detective.” She bit her plump lower lip for a moment. “Roger is very particular about who he works with.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jack watched her.

  “He has his business associates checked out.”

  “By this guy.”

  “Yes.”

  “And would he also be able to help me locate Jennifer?”

  “I believe so. After she—after Evan fired her I called and asked her to lunch, you know, to be friendly. She declined but assured me she was doing well. Commented that she’d simply had a personality clash with Evan.”

  “You usually keep in touch with the fired employees of your business associates?” Aranda didn’t respond right away and Jack persisted. “Why were you worried about her?”

  Aranda thought about it some more and decided to answer. “One night I was out to dinner with Roger and Evan. He had quite a bit to drink. Well, we all did. Anyway, at one point Jennifer’s name came up and Evan said horrible things. Just went off. Calling her names—you know the kind of things some men say about women.”

  “I do,” Jack said quietly. “It’s wrong.”

  “It was vile. Roger was furious. Told Evan that he better stop, and if he ever talked about a woman that way again, they’d never do another deal together. That shut him up.”

  “But that wasn’t the end of it?” Serena asked.

  “Roger is a really nice man. He apologized profusely to me for Evan’s behavior, even though it wasn’t his fault. I know that no one believes a man can be rich and successful and also ethical, but he is. It bothered him, the way Evan acted and Jennifer suddenly disappearing, so he had it checked out.” She nodded toward the piece of paper. “The investigator can tell you a lot more than I can.”

  “You’ve been very helpful.” Jack folded the paper and put it in his pocket.

  She got up from her desk again to walk them out. As she opened the door to the hallway she turned to Jack. “If you have any follow-up questions or we can help in any way, please let me know.” Aranda extended a slim hand and Serena saw a flash of white as she smoothly handed him her card.

  Chapter 9

  Vangie was on the phone. And she was hysterical. Evan looked at Corie. They’d finally been allowed back inside their house and Corie sat listlessly at the kitchen counter. Vi, martini in hand, was trying to coax her to eat something. Evan took his glass of Bordeaux and walked outside onto the front porch.

  “Evan, it was awful. They treated me like a criminal. They want to search my place.” Vangie sobbed so hard she choked. “They think I did it! Me.”

  “Stu called you, right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  He cut her off. “I told you I’ll take care of it. You can’t keep calling me.”

  “I need someone to talk to. I don’t know anyone else here. Please come over. Please.”

  “We’ve been through this.” On the porch Evan paced. Corie had arranged the outdoor furniture in groups meant to facilitate conversation. It struck him now as charming and innocent.

  “We haven’t been through this.” Vangie’s voice grew shrill. “I did my part. When are you telling your wife?”

  He glanced through the front windows into the house. “Christ. Her friend was just murdered. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me? I was dragged to a police station.”

  “As long as you didn’t say anything, it will be fine.”

  “It would be your own fault if I did. That detective was obnoxious.”

  “You’re not making any sense.” Evan was sure no one could hear him but he lowered his voice anyway. “Look, I have to go. Sit tight tonight. Relax. Take one of the pills I left you.”

  Vangie’s voice shrieked out of the phone. “I didn’t tell the police anything. But I could tell them lots.”

  “Vangie, I know you’re upset and you don't mean to say something you’ll regret. I said I’ll take of care of you and I will. Tonight, I need you to be a good girl.”

  “I’m sick of being a good girl. I’ll let you go so you can go back and comfort your wife. I have to call the detective anyway.”

  And she hung up on him. The slut actually hung up. Evan stared at the phone in disbelief, then quickly placed a call to his lawyer, Stu Graber. “Meet me at Vangie’s.” Evan would have texted but Stu was old school.

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now.” Evan’s voice was a snarl. “How fast can you get there?”

  “Ten minutes.”

  “Make it five.” Evan didn’t wait for an answer. Stu worked for him. So did Vangie. They all worked for him. So why did he have to do everything himself? He composed his features before he went inside to look for his wife. Corie and Vi were sitting on the deck off of the kitchen. Shit. They were outside. Could they hear him? Had he used Vangie’s name?

  Corie looked up as he opened the sliding glass door from the kitchen. She was still wearing the same t-shirt and jeans that she’d had on all day and she looked very pale.

  “Sorry about that.” Evan walked over to his wife and put his hands on her shoulders.

  “Everything all right?” Vi took a healthy sip from a freshened martini.

  He saw her cigarette. That was why they moved outside. “My lawyer. I’m afraid I have to go out for a little while.” Corie stared off into space in the general direction of the deck railing. Evan massaged her shoulders.

  “Now? I don’t understand why you have to deal with this tonight.” Vi’s eyes flicked quickly to Evan’s face and she stubbed her cigarette out.

  “The police don’t take the evening off, Violet. Everything is fine. I have to meet briefly with Stu and I’d rather not upset Corie any more than necessary.” Evan buried his hands in Corie’s long hair and lifted it
off of her neck.

  His wife looked up at him. “Tell Stu to come here. It’s not as if anything could make this day worse.”

  “I think it’s better all around if I meet him at his office.” Evan kept his hands in her hair.

  “With the life that man led it’s no surprise he’s dead,” Vi said. “They better not hound us. I won’t hear of it.”

  “We’re all suspects, mother.”

  “Corie.” Evan’s fingertips brushed her neck.

  “No. It’s true. We are. It’s how this works.” Subtly, Corie pulled away from Evan’s touch and leaned towards her mother. “I don’t mind talking to them. Brice was my friend.”

  “I’m not going to let the police run me ragged because they’re incompetent. I know people.”

  The disgust in Corie’s voice was palpable. “Oh, please. You’re going to call Nancy? You need her to protect you?” Her mother was friends with the mayor, Nancy Thorne, as well as assorted congressmen and other Colorado luminaries. “Did you kill him, Mom?”

  Vi’s voice squeaked. “How dare you.”

  “Then I don’t understand what the big fucking deal is about talking to the police for five fucking minutes.”

  “You are so naïve.” Vi made a dismissive motion with a manicured hand.

  “That’s your stock answer for everything. It’s such bullshit.”

  “Violet.” Evan’s voice cut through their squabble. “Corie’s had an extremely hard day.” Apparently she’d forgotten their earlier conversation in the driveway. “I think it’s best if we all cooperate with the police. The faster they resolve this the faster we can all move on with our lives.”

  Corie looked up at him. “How long will you be gone?”

  “I hope not long.” He leaned down and kissed her and Corie let him. “You two really should be nicer to each other.” That last comment was directed at Vi, who had trouble holding his gaze.

  He heard Corie mutter, “In what universe,” as he retreated back through the kitchen door.

  Evan parked his silver Mercedes a couple of blocks down from Vangie’s after taking note of the unmarked car across the street from her house. He’d watched for a tail on the way there but hadn’t spotted one. Still, best to be careful. Evan was grateful for the alleys that ran behind the houses in these older Denver neighborhoods. He made his way to her back door and let himself in using his key. The moment she saw him Vangie let out a squeal of delight, ran to him, and threw her arms around his neck.

  “I knew you’d come. Oh Evan!”

  He pushed her away. “You better not have made a phone call. Where’s Stu?”

  “He’s not here. Why would he be?”

  Evan strode to the bathroom, shook out a pill into the palm of his hand, and returned to the kitchen. A wineglass filled with pink liquid sat on the counter. Probably from a box. Evan grimaced and handed the glass to Vangie along with the pill. “Take this.” Evan clenched his teeth. When exactly had he lost control?

  “I don’t want a pill. I want you.”

  Evan stared at Vangie. Her face was blotchy from crying and her makeup had run. He took in the tacky jewelry, the animal print blouse, and long, two-tone acrylic nails painted in a reverse French manicure with the darker strip at the tips—the style, apparently, if you were a trashy minimum-wage slave or a hooker. He saw her for what she was: a tasteless, stupid, greedy woman. What the hell was he thinking? Evan grabbed her by the chin. “Do I need to force you? I’ll shove it down your throat if I have to.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” She yanked her head away.

  “You asked for my help. If you don’t want it, I’m happy to leave.”

  “I don’t want a pill. Besides, I’ve been drinking wine.”

  “That Kool-Aid you like isn’t even real wine. You’re going to take the pill. You’re going to tell me who you called. Then you’re going to wash your face and get ready for bed.”

  Someone rapped on the front door and Vangie’s eyes grew wide. “Who is that?”

  “Your lawyer. Do you want him to see you like this?”

  Stu knocked again.

  “Aren’t you going to let him in?” Vangie asked.

  “That depends. Are you going to cooperate? Or are you going to get your own lawyer? They’re very expensive, you know.”

  She put the small round tablet in her mouth and followed with a healthy swig from the wineglass. She made a face but she swallowed.

  “Good girl. Now open the door.”

  “Hello, Vangie.” Stu walked into the living room and closed the door quickly behind him. “Got some surveillance going on out there.”

  Vangie stared at Evan wide-eyed. “What? What does that mean?”

  “Go get ready for bed.” Evan waited until Vangie had disappeared into the bathroom and then turned on Stu. “Ten minutes? You better not fucking bill me for the last hour.”

  “What couldn’t wait?”

  “I need some damage control.” He prowled the small space and wound up next to a bar set up on one side of the dining area. Evan poured two fingers of Scotch into a glass, then sat down on the couch and nodded toward the chair Jack had occupied a few hours earlier. “Have a seat. Fill me in. What do they know so far?”

  Stu remained standing. “The detectives want to test her gun. She says she doesn’t know where it is. They’re getting a warrant. It shouldn’t take long and they’ll be wanting to search in the morning.”

  Evan’s pale blue eyes looked thoughtful. “Any reason not to let them do that?” He took a swallow of his drink.

  “Depends what outcome you have in mind.” They heard a toilet flush and the bathroom door opened. Stu cut his eyes toward Vangie. “Christ.” He turned away and pretended to be studying a print on the wall.

  Vangie was wearing a short, deep red Frederick’s of Hollywood number that gaped open in the front to reveal a thong and push up bra. The bra was a black-and-white tiger print, naturally. She sat down next to Evan on the couch and snuggled up against him. “I got ready for bed like you asked me to.”

  Evan didn’t touch her. “I’ll come tuck you in when we’re done.”

  “No,” Vangie pouted. “I want to stay. This concerns me.”

  Evan slammed his glass on the coffee table and pulled her up onto her feet. “You need to let me handle this.”

  “Oh Evan, I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Vangie tried to kiss him but Evan held her at arm’s length. “Then show me you’re glad and do what I asked.”

  “You gave me that pill so I don’t know how long I’ll be awake.”

  “I’ll be right in.”

  She made a high-pitched whiny sound but left.

  Evan watched her walk away, the skimpy robe not quite covering her fleshy butt cheeks. He’d consider fixing those if he wasn’t done with her. He turned back to Stu. “It’s safe. You can turn around.” Evan sat back down on the couch, put his head back, and closed his eyes for a moment. When he looked up again Stu was still standing by the wall. “Sit down for Christ’s sake. You’re making me nervous.”

  “If it’s all right with you I’ll stand. I don’t plan on staying long anyway.”

  “Actually, you’re staying all night.” Evan took another sip of his drink.

  “What? No.”

  “I need you to keep an eye on her. If you don’t want to do it, then sub it out to someone you trust. But I’m not leaving her on her own.”

  “Since when am I a babysitter?”

  “Your bill rate’s higher than any other fucking babysitter I know of. Especially when I pay you overtime.”

  “Shit.” Stu pulled out his cell phone and made a call.

  “Where’s the gun?” Evan asked, after Stu finished making arrangements.

  “Damned if I know.” Stu looked toward the bedroom and lowered his voice. “What if she did it?”

  “Two birds with one stone.”

  Stu looked back at Evan and hesitated for a moment. “What if you did it?”

>   “I didn’t.”

  “Then we’ve got nothing to hide,” Stu said.

  Evan's index finger absentmindedly tapped against the rim of the glass. He repeated what he’d said to his mother-in-law earlier: “I think we should cooperate with the police.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “See what else you can find out. You have discovery, right? You’ll find out what they have on her. I think that’ll be very helpful.” Evan stood. “I need to get back home. I didn’t want to come out in the first place. You got this?”

  “Aren’t you going to tuck her in?”

  “I don’t pay for sarcasm.”

  “She’s not going to come after me, is she?”

  The thought of Vangie throwing herself at Stu made Evan smile. “She’s very obedient. And I’ve taught her to do some interesting things.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Don’t worry. I gave her something to help her sleep. Cops won’t think it’s strange she’s meeting with her lawyer but I’m leaving out the back, same way I came in. Screen her calls and keep her away from a computer. Let me know as soon as they show up in the morning.”

  Chapter 10

  Corie didn’t need to fake the exhaustion she used as an excuse to leave her mother and retreat to the master bedroom. Vi volunteered to spend the night in one of their guest rooms, allegedly to comfort Corie but really because she was too drunk to drive. Whatever. Vi and Evan could console each other or kill each other. The second option was infinitely preferable.

  Corie rolled onto her side, punched one of the pillows into a more desirable shape, and tried to get comfortable. She badly wanted a drink herself, but last night her descent into oblivion had proved literally fatal. Tonight she’d keep her wits about her. She even had the windows open so she could hear anything that happened on the property. Too little, too late.

  Now that she was lying down she wasn’t sleepy at all. Evan’s hands on her shoulders and in her hair earlier had woken up a feeling she’d hoped was long buried. She groaned, rolled onto her back again, and stretched her leg to the side seeking a cool stretch of sheet.

  Dark desire. A ready kiss. Her body, so eager, arching towards him only to be told to lie still. “Discipline,” Evan had said, “is the way to ecstasy.” Love, in their case, was all about denial. Her denial.