Death of an Escort (24 page)

We hung up. I would have to go drink beer and
eat wings with him sometime. I owed him.

Next I called my wife, but she didn't answer.
I left a brief message.

Back to what Gracie had told me, Kelly Brandt
had helium in her bloodstream. That would indicate suicide, but the
problem with that were the missing tanks of gas.

Helium didn't come from nowhere. No wonder
the cops were suspicious of the whole thing. Parts of this didn't
add up.

For the first time, I believed Macy. Up till
now, I didn't really. I figured that I'd find out that Kelly had
committed suicide.

The kicker for me was the lack of gas tanks.
Helium wasn't something you breathed in the air, and helium gas
tanks don't have legs. Someone had used an exit bag on her. Someone
had wanted her dead.

Macy poked her head into my room. "Ray?"

"Macy? What are you doing hear?" I asked.

She came in and she looked even bigger to me
than last time I saw her, if that were possible. If she got any
wider, she'd have trouble making it through doorways.

"I got a friend who is a nurse. She called
and told me about you," she said.

"I think that's illegal," I said. "Patient
privacy and all that."

"Shh," she said. "If I hadn't known, I
wouldn't have brought you these balloons."

Indeed, she had brought a bouquet of brightly
colored balloons.

"Thanks," I said.

"I was hoping this didn't happen while you
were looking into my mother."

"Well, kind of," I said.

"Oh, Ray," she said. "That makes me feel
awful."

"Don't worry," I said. "I'll be fine. And it
was nice of you to stop by and bring balloons."

"You know," she said. "I had no idea how much
balloons cost. Far more than I would have guessed."

"Really?" I asked.

"Twenty bucks for this," she said pointing at
the balloons she brought in.

After some more mindless chitchat and well
wishing, she left. I looked up at the balloons. Balloons were
expensive?

It certainly wasn't the rubber or latex or
whatever they were made out of. It had to be the gas they were
filled with. Helium.

Chapter 23

It was the helium. Now that I was thinking
about it, I remembered something from way back about helium being a
hard gas to isolate. That made it expensive.

Not only that, but there were probably only a
limited number of places you could buy helium from in town. It
wasn't like dish soap or trash bags.

I'd guess there would only be a handful of
places that would sell it. With that thought, I rang for the nurse
again.

I requested a yellow pages book, and she got
one for me. I looked up helium, and there was a heading but it said
to look up party supplies.

So I thumbed over to party supplies. There
were three of them.

With my cell I called them. One of them
didn't sell helium, but the other two did.

I asked if they had any thefts of helium.
Both thought the question weird, but the answer was no.

So, two places in town sold helium. I'd visit
each. I was closing in. I could feel it.

The next morning I was released. I didn't go
home. I was on a mission, and I headed straight for the first party
place. They were a total bust. They hadn't sold any helium in the
past month.

The second store was in the vicinity of where
Carlie Smith lived. I took that as a good sign as I entered.

There was an older gentleman who looked up as
I came in.

"Good morning, sir? Can I assist you finding
some items?"

"Actually I have a question for you," I said.
"I understand you sell helium for filling balloons."

"We can supply you with helium," he said.

"Have you sold helium to anyone in the last
several weeks?"

He looked confused. "Yes, we have."

"Would you know if a Carlie Smith bought
some?"

"Uh, I don't know. What is this in regards
to?"

I took out a business card and handed it to
him. He took it and walked around the sales counter. "So you're a
private investigator? Has this person been bouncing checks or
similar?"

"I can't discuss it," I said. "But would you
be able to tell me if Carlie Smith made a purchase here?"

"I can tell you," he said. "We keep a record
of all the sales of helium because we need to get the tanks back.
They are merely rented. We sell the gas inside and rent the
tanks."

"I follow," I said.

"Let me look up in my records." He flipped
through a book full of pencil markings. After a bit he looked up.
"Are you sure you have the first name right?"

"Why?" I asked.

"I have someone here by the name of Smith,
but it's not Carlie."

"Does it start with a 'C'?" I asked.

"No," he said. "It's listed here as
Adrienne."

"Adrienne?"

"And she hasn't returned the tank yet
either."

"Adrienne?" I repeated. "Do you remember
her?"

"Hmm," he said and seemed to be in thought.
Then his face showed recognition. "Yes, she was the child."

The kid sister of Carlie. Yep, it was
her.

"What do you remember about her?" I
asked.

"I remember her now. I sold her a tank of
helium and balloons. She said she was getting them for a party her
older sister was having."

"Carlie sent her," I said. "Clever of
her."

"I didn't catch that," he said.

"Nothing," I said. "Thanks. You've been
helpful." I left. It was time to get a confession, and wrap this
one up.

I drove to the apartment of Carlie Smith. I
parked outside and walked up the steps, and I pounded on the
door.

Carlie answered, and there was an immediate
coldness in her eyes when she saw me.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Either you come out here, or I'm going to go
inside your place," I said.

"What is this about?"

"Guess," I said.

"I'm going to get a restraining order on you.
You really bother me." She tried to shut the door.

I jammed my foot into the opening before it
could close. She leaned on it. It was an old wooden door, and I
could hear it cracking a little bit under her weight. My foot was
starting to hurt too.

"Let's talk about Kelly Brandt," I said.

She shoved harder on the door.

"This isn't going to stop me, you know," I
said.

"I'm calling the cops," she said. Her voice
was shaky, as if she'd started to cry.

I slammed my shoulder into the door. The
impact took her off her feet and she fell to the dirty, linoleum
floor inside. I entered and closed the door behind me.

Once inside, I did the chain bolt to better
secure the door.

She'd gotten part way off the floor and now
she crawled backwards from me in a motion resembling a crab.

"What is it you want?" she demanded. Indeed,
it did seem she'd started to cry.

"What happened that night with Kelly Brandt?"
I asked.

"It's really none of your Goddamn business,"
she said trying to sound tough.

"I've made it my business. What happened that
night? Did you get into a fight with her?"

She looked shocked. "No!"

"Tell me what happened," I said.

She crawled back past the stove and fridge in
the kitchen. Their outside door opened up into the kitchen. She was
now near the entry way to the rest of the apartment. Using the
entryway for support, she got to her feet.

"I don't want to talk about it with you." She
disappeared through the entryway.

I followed. Now we were in a dirty living
room. The furniture and carpeting were old, torn, and dirty.
Laundry was randomly strewn about on the floor and furniture.

The walls were the darkest wood paneling I'd
ever seen. It made the whole room feel very dark and small.

"Carlie!" I said. "You must tell me what
happened that night."

She sank down into an overstuffed chair that
had a yellow T-shirt draped across the arm. She put her face into
her hands.

"What do you want to know?" She was sounding
rather emotional now.

"You met Kelly. Then what?"

She looked up. She looked resolved. "I don't
have to talk to you."

I didn't answer.

"You shouldn't even be in here. This is
trespassing."

"Carlie," I said. "You will talk to me before
I leave," I said.

"We had sex," she said. "Okay? I had sex with
a woman! Are you happy now? I said it. Are you happy?"

"I already knew you had sex with her," I
said. "What happened after that?"

"I left," she said in a quieter voice.

"Immediately after?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

"And Kelly?"

"She was going to leave too," she said.

"You are lying to me," I said.

"How would you know?" she asked with a bit of
irritation in her voice.

"You killed Kelly," I said.

Her face went white. Even her lips were
drained of color for a moment. "I killed Kelly?" she whispered.

"Didn't you?"

For a bit she didn't answer. She merely
stared at me with glassy eyes. "No," she said in a faraway voice.
"No, I didn't kill her. I really liked her."

"Did you pay to spend the time with her?" I
asked.

She snapped back to reality and the hardness
was in her eyes again. "Yes, I did," she said. "What difference
does it make to you?"

"You suffocated her," I said. "You put a bag
over her head."

"I did not!" she said.

"But you did."

"What possible evidence could you have?" she
asked. Now there was a bit of panic in her voice. Her eyes were
open wider now. She was starting to look a bit like a trapped
animal.

"Helium," I said. "Kelly Brandt was
suffocated with helium."

"Sounds stupid," she said under her
breath.

"You got helium for a supposed party not long
before this," I said.

She didn't answer, but the look on her face
said everything.

"And you haven't returned the tank yet," I
said.

"How could you know that?"

"Know what?" I asked.

"That I had a party with helium-filled
balloons? How could you know that?"

"I'm a detective," I said patronizingly.
"It's my job to figure things out."

She stood a little unsteadily and put a hand
to her forehead. "You're going to tell the cops, aren't you?"

"Tell them what?" I asked.

"That I killed Kelly." She walked to the
center of the room still like she was in a daze.

"Well, did you?"

She whirled around. "No! But you're going to
tell them. And you're going to give them all your 'detective
evidence'. I'm going to get arrested."

"If you admit to it, it will be better for
you," I said. "Perhaps they will even cut a deal with you."

"Look . . . guy, whatever your name is. I
didn't do it. Okay? I was told Kelly committed suicide. That's all
I know. I didn't do anything to her."

"Bondage? Rough sex?"

"Ha!" she said. "With Kelly? No, she wouldn't
do that stuff."

"You're putting on a good act," I said. "The
police might even buy it."

"I'm not acting," she said frantically. "I
didn't kill her! I didn't do it. Why would I? She was the one woman
I really loved to be with. She was amazing." She started crying
again.

"But she didn't love you back. So you killed
her?"

She screamed an ear-piercing scream.
"No!"

For a moment, I let it be. I gave her a
moment to collect herself.

"Okay," I said. "Tell me what happened that
night. Give me the details."

She calmed down a bit. "Okay. I got there at
about 9pm. Kelly had already arrived. I met her up in the room. I
left the money on the dresser and then we were together in bed for
about half-an-hour. After that, I left."

"You left before Kelly?"

"Yes," she said.

"And she was alive when you left?"

"Yes!"

It was the oddest thing. I came over here
convinced that I had this one nailed. It was Carlie. It had to be
Carlie, but now I wasn't sure.

Carlie didn't have any alibi, but she was
convincing. I decided to try another route.

"What's an exit bag?"

"A what?"

"An exit bag," I said. "What is it?"

She looked confused. "I don't know," she
said.

That hadn't trapped her. She seemed as if she
honestly didn't know what it was.

The front door tried to open, but the chain
stopped it.

"That's my little sister," Carlie said. She
got up. I followed. She let Adrienne in. The girl didn't say hello
or anything. She walked right by.

The two of us were left standing in the
kitchen.

Abruptly I said, "I got to go."

At my car, I felt confused. Was Carlie that
good of an actor? Did she do it or not?

I got in and drove away, but I wasn't heading
anywhere. I knew it had to be Carlie. She had the helium. It was
all about the helium. I drove out to the main highway.

There I aimlessly drifted down it, not really
going anywhere. Driving and trying to make sense of this.

I looked to my left and I drove past the
recreation plaza. It was filled with a bowling alley, a miniature
golf course, and an indoor rock climbing wall.

I hit the brakes. The car behind me almost
hit me.

I got to the side of the road, and I got the
finger and an angry honk. At the side of the road, I called
information from my cell phone.

"Carlie Smith," I said.

A few moments later the automated computer
repeated back a phone number. I called it.

"Hello?"

"Carlie? It's Ray, the guy that was just over
there," I said.

"What now?" she said.

"I need you to meet me. Something important
has come up."

"What?" she asked suspiciously.