Acquainted With the Night (13 page)

Alex kicked herself mentally for scaring the woman and said quickly, “She’s fine. This won’t take long. I just need to ask you a couple of questions, as I said.”

“Oh. Okay. Would you like some coffee or something?”

“No, nothing. Thank you.”

They sat down in Vivien’s carefully furnished living room that could have been a cover photo for an Ethan Allen catalog. Alex looked Marja over, curious about Vivien’s new girlfriend.

She was as tall as CJ, but with a completely different body. CJ was all lush curves and feminine to her fingertips. Marja had shoulders to rival an NBA player and Alex imagined she could easily bench press the couch. Her hair was in a casual braid, and she looked like the grad student she was, dressed in jeans, sneakers and a gray University of Denver sweatshirt. Her complexion had a healthy glow, and even with no makeup she had strong, compelling features.

A woman more different from the carefully groomed and fussy Vivien was hard to imagine. Maybe that was the attraction.

“I need to verify some information,” Alex said, “and I think you can help me. I’m trying to establish where Vivien Wong was on a couple of dates. Last year, actually.”

Alex didn’t believe that Vivien had anything to do with the attacks on her, or the note to CJ, but she was going to feel a lot better in a few minutes if she could actually prove it.

Marja said quietly, “I’ll help if I can.”

“I’m hoping the first one is easy. I understand you first met Vivien the evening you were hired to serve as a bartender at a party she was giving.”

“Yes.” Well, Vivien told her Marja wasn’t a big talker.

“Do you remember the date?”

“March sixteenth. Last year.”

“Good. I don’t need any details, but I do need to know if Vivien was here all evening. All night.”

Marja stared at her, and said, “Can I ask what this is about?”

“It’s really just routine. I’m verifying her whereabouts for that night.”

Marja looked unconvinced by Alex’s explanation, but she answered, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, she was here all night. With me.”

“She didn’t leave?”

“No. I left about seven the next morning, and she was here all night.”

“You’re sure she didn’t leave for any period? Perhaps when you were sleeping?” Alex tried to be tactful.

Marja’s color rose a little, but she said, “She got up to go to the kitchen and get us some water about four o’clock. We weren’t really sleeping much. She was here.”

Alex tried another angle. “Did she make a phone call at any time? Especially before, say, ten thirty that night?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Really sure.”

She could have set something up ahead of time, Alex knew, but it was hard to imagine that she wouldn’t have had to make at least one verifying phone call, either before or after. “One last question, Ms. Erickson. Do you happen to remember where you were last July Fourth?”

Marja stared at her a moment, then shrugged and said, “Yes. We went to Georgetown, up in the mountains, you know. They have a five-K run, and I did that, then we saw the fire hose races, and watched the fireworks over the lake. We stayed in a bed-and-breakfast the night before, then drove back down after the fireworks, since Viv had to work the next day.” She frowned, then added, “I remember she got a phone call from a friend of hers, something about a shooting…”

The door from the garage opened, and Vivien called out, “Hey, baby, are you home yet?”

Alex got to her feet as Marja went to greet Vivien.

“Honey,” Marja said. “There’s a police officer here.”

“Alex!” Vivien exclaimed when she came into the room. “What’s going on? Have you heard something?”

“Not directly,” Alex said. “But I do have something to tell you. Can we all sit down?”

“What the hell is going on?” Vivien asked again. She put her briefcase on the sofa table and unbuttoned the short jacket of her charcoal-gray suit.

Marja looked at Alex, then said to Vivien, “She was asking questions about you, hon. Do you know her?”

Vivien gave Alex a sharp look.

Alex said, “I needed to confirm your whereabouts, Vivien. For the night I had the accident, and for the day David was killed.”

“What on earth for?”

Alex sighed. “It’s kind of a long story. But one I think you need to hear.”

“I’m listening,” Vivien said cautiously.

“Okay. But first, I want to apologize. You weren’t really a suspect, but I needed to make sure you weren’t trying to fool me.”

“About what?”

“About how you really feel about CJ,” Alex admitted.

Marja said, “Maybe I should go start dinner, or something.”

Vivien gripped her hand tightly, ignoring Alex for the moment. “There is absolutely nothing on this topic you can’t hear,” she said, her voice harsh. “Isn’t that right, Alex?”

Alex read Vivien’s look, not the one directed at her, but the one she’d directed at Marja. If Vivien was lying about what she felt for her lover, Alex would turn in her badge.

“I actually think that’s right,” Alex said.

Marja looked from Vivien to Alex and back again. “Viv, who is she?” Marj finally asked.

“A friend, or so I thought,” Vivien said acerbically. “This is the woman married to CJ St. Clair, my best friend. Or perhaps my former best friend. Which is it, Alex?”

Alex sighed. “CJ didn’t want to leave, Vivien. Not you, and certainly not me. Let me explain.”

When she was finished, Vivien was crying and Alex had brushed away a few tears herself. Marja didn’t say a word, but halfway through the story she slipped one long arm around Vivien’s delicate shoulders and held on.

“Christ on a kite, why the fuck didn’t she just tell us?” Vivien finally said.

“She didn’t want to risk it, I guess,” Alex said. “I don’t really understand it myself.”

“All this time…” Vivien began, then choked up again.

Marja squeezed her tightly, and then said, “You should have known she’d never leave voluntarily. She loved you guys, right? So I think I should go make dinner now, and we can talk about all the positive memories you have about her, so when I meet her I can tell her how much good stuff you told me.”

She went into the kitchen, and Alex watched Vivien’s eyes following her.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Vivien asked.

“I like her,” Alex said.

“Me, too. She makes me feel like a fucking teenager.”

“I’m sorry for the questions, Vivien. I needed to be sure you weren’t harboring some secret obsession with CJ.”

Vivien wiped her eyes. “I love CJ to pieces,” she answered. “But not like that. The only person I’ve ever felt that way about is her,” she said, looking toward the kitchen.

Alex, satisfied, said, “I know.”

Chapter Twelve

On Wednesday morning, Alex got to her office at eight a.m. exactly to find someone already waiting outside for her. The woman was somewhere in her early thirties, dark hair and pale complexion, with deep-set, dark eyes. Something about her features looked vaguely Slavic. The next moment, Alex remembered: her new detective was reporting today. With everything else, she’d forgotten.

“Detective Adamcyzk,” Alex greeted her. “I’m Captain Alex Ryan. You’re early.”

“Didn’t want to be late on the first day,” she said easily.

“Come on in.”

They sat in Alex’s office, and Alex said, “I’ve read your jacket, of course. What would you like to tell me in addition to that?”

The open-ended question seemed to fluster her a little, but she straightened in her chair and brushed her palms against her khaki slacks. “I liked patrol just fine,” she answered. “But I really wanted a gold shield, to be a detective. I’m hoping to get to work as soon as I can.”

“Good,” Alex said, “because there’s always plenty to do. But I just wanted to get to know you a little better. Your first name is…” She glanced down at the label on Adamcyzk’s file again. “Jolenta? Am I saying that correctly?”

“Yes. You got Adamcyzk right, too, which is pretty rare. Jolenta is my grandmother’s name, she immigrated from Kraków after the war. I go by Jo.”

“Kraków? Isn’t that where Pope John Paul II was from?”

“You’re right,” Jo said, trying to conceal her surprise. “He wasn’t born there, but he was the Archbishop there for a while. You a Catholic?”

“Sort of,” Alex answered honestly, and that got a smile from Jo Adamcyzk.

“Me, too,” she said. “A sort of Catholic.”

“You have family here?” Alex asked.

Jo shook her head. “They’re back in the Chicago area, mostly. I moved out here after high school.”

Alex looked at her appraisingly. “Why Denver?”

After a moment, Jo answered carefully, “Change of scene. God knows the weather is a lot better. Scenery, too.”

There was more to that story, Alex thought. Some problem with her family, maybe, like CJ. Alex said, “You’ll want to meet Sergeant Frank Morelli, my senior detective. He’s from the Chicago area, too.”

“Okay. Will he be my partner?”

“No, I’m assigning you to Kelly Porter. He’s been here five years, long enough to know what’s going on, but new enough that he’ll remember what it was like to be the new guy. He should treat you right, but if you have any problems, I have an open door. Work hard and use good sense, and I won’t mess with you. We have a staff meeting every Monday morning at eight to go over caseloads, and as the new gold shield you’ll be bringing the doughnuts for a while. Do you have any questions?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Good. Let’s go out and I’ll introduce you around a little.”

The first people she ran into were Chris Andersen and Frank Morelli, who were in a huddle at their desks in deep discussion. Alex introduced Jo Adamcyzk to them both, and said to Frank, “Got another cop from Chicago for you.”

“Yeah?” Frank said happily. “What neighborhood?”

“Roseland.”

“Geez, that’s a way out there. Tough neighborhood.”

“What about you?”

“Harlem Avenue.”

“Uh-oh.” Jo smiled. “Northsider.”

“Hell, yeah. Oh, man, I bet you’re a Sox fan.”

“Of course. And you root for the Cubbies, I’m sure.”

“Well, of course.”

“Poor guy.” Jo turned to Alex. “My team won a World Series a few years back. His hasn’t even been close for a hundred years.”

“At least I’m rooting for Chicago’s favorite team,” Frank retorted.

“Bite me,” Jo said, in a friendly tone.

Chris looked at Alex and said, “Do you have any idea what the hell they’re talking about?”

“Not much,” Alex conceded. “Let me introduce you to your new partner, Detective Adamcyzk. You and Frank can trade insults later.”

On her way back to her office after getting Jo settled in with Kelly, she said to Frank and Chris, “You have stuff to tell me yet?”

The two partners exchanged a look, and Frank said, “Yeah, I think so. Is now okay? We got interviews later.”

“Absolutely. Come on in.”

As they sat down, Chris said to Alex, “Looks like another one for the team.”

“Excuse me?”

Chris smirked and said, “I think our new girl there is a family member, Captain.”

Frank said, “Okay, my turn to be confused.”

Chris turned to him and said, “Get with it, Frankie. Adamcyzk is gay.”

He looked at her in surprise. “Really, Hans? Has she got a tattoo on her forehead that I missed?”

“Don’t call me Hans,” Chris retorted. “Your problem is that you’re not tuned into the cosmic vibrations of lesbianese.”

“Well, you got that right. Hanging out with you all day probably made me immune.”

Chris rolled her eyes and said to Alex, “I’m right, aren’t I, Captain?”

Alex responded dryly, “I have no idea. That wasn’t in her file.”

“Funny, Captain.”

Alex said, “Could we get down to it, please? I can tell you that neither CJ’s mother or brother left town on the relevant dates, and there’s no angle on CJ’s trust fund that seems relevant. What do you two know that you didn’t know Monday morning?”

Frank started with, “As we all suspected, the lab was no help. Common paper and envelope, written on an ink-jet printer, no prints except for Lieutenant St. Clair’s. No fibers, no DNA on the envelope either, so he or she didn’t lick it closed. Zip.”

Alex sighed. “Too bad, but, as you say, not surprising. What else?”

Chris said, “I’ve been trying to track down Halliday. She was on the faculty at, uh, Oglethorpe University, a private school in Atlanta. Or she was until a little over a year ago.”

“What happened?”

“She apparently just walked out the door. Quit and left, in the middle of the semester, no less. University won’t say anything else and we haven’t tracked her down yet. Still working on it.”

Alex considered the problem thoughtfully for a moment.

“We talked to both Patty Herron and Stephanie Morrow yesterday,” Frank said. “And we’ve got an appointment with District Attorney Bradford in an hour and a half.”

Alex suppressed a sigh. She knew she’d be getting an unpleasant phone call from Tony later. “What did you get from Morrow and Herron?”

The two detectives exchanged a glance. “Told you it would be fun,” Chris muttered.

“Herron was very talkative, but not real helpful,” Frank said. “She did remember the night of the cocktail party last March pretty clearly. Said she and Morrow had a hell of a fight on the way home that evening.”

Alex asked, “Did she say what it was about?”

Frank suddenly looked a little uncomfortable, and he shifted his body a little toward Chris, as if to say “you take this one.”

Chris said coolly, “They had a fight about Lieutenant St. Clair. Herron’s version is that she made the mistake of saying something about how nice she thought St. Clair was, and then Morrow started going off on what a bitch St. Clair had been when they were together, what a snob she was, stuff like that. Apparently it pissed Herron off, and they continued the fight until the early morning hours.”

“I see,” Alex said calmly. CJ was the least pretentious woman she knew, but she did have money and had had a rigidly proper Southern upbringing, so she could see how Stephanie could twist that into snobbery. “The important point being that they were together all night?”