For Old Crime's Sake (Chase Charley Mystery Book 1) (3 page)

I scoffed. “Because I live next door and you practice voodoo, why else?”

“That is a good reason, I suppose. Call me after you get rid of it.”

I stuffed the phone back in my purse and headed back to the apartment. At least Mrs. Perkins wasn’t still in the foyer when I arrived. However, she had placed the twigs and bones in front of my door. I wouldn’t even tell Courtney about this because she would flip out. I shoved the junk into my purse, pulled out my keys and hurried toward my car. I was already running late; there was to time to walk.

I parked my car on the street closest to the water. Wham!’s Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go played from the speakers. The song was popular the year I was born, but it was still one of my favorites. Silence filled the car when I turned off the ignition. I’d might as well get this over with.

After grabbing the items from my purse, I headed for the edge of the river. I felt ridiculous with this trash wrapped up in a napkin, but I didn’t have the heart to tell Courtney I didn’t believe in all this voodoo stuff.

Golden beams of sunlight covered my path to the river’s edge. When I neared, a young couple strolled past hand-in-hand by the water. I’d wait until they passed before tossing the stuff over the side. I didn’t want anyone to think I was littering. The things Courtney got me into.

I inched close to the railing and peered down at the water. A slight breeze stirred the hot air and the water flowed past. The sun glistened off the water’s surface. Gentle waves hit the railing below. I needed to hurry so that I could catch Jessie before she was busy with a client.

No one seemed to be watching now, so with a flick of my wrist I tossed the items into the water. With a splash, the wrapped napkin hit the surface and then floated away. I hoped this would satisfy Courtney. I glanced over my shoulder again to make sure no one had been watching me.

Now that I’d finished the voodoo task it was time for me to get back to business. I needed to ask my source more information about the house she’d sent me to last night. Why had the party been cancelled and who was that dark-haired cop who’d put a body in the trunk of his car?

After crossing the parking lot, I climbed behind the wheel and pulled out my phone. I dialed Jessie’s number, but after a bunch of rings, it went to her voicemail. I left a message, then decided I’d head toward her salon anyway. This was too important to wait around for her to call me back. I glanced over toward the water one last time and then pulled away.

The salon was closer to my apartment than the river, so I had to maneuver the traffic back over to Magazine Street. Beau Modèle was the name of the place. The top was down on my car and a talk radio show played in the background. I had no idea what the hosts were talking about, so I flipped it off and listened to the traffic instead.

Just a few more blocks and I’d be there. The light changed to yellow, so I slowed down. I might be a so-so journalist, but I was an excellent driver. The traffic signal wasn’t the only light I’d noticed though. When I peered into the rear-view mirror, the twirling blue lights of a cop car flashed behind me. Of all the luck. Was he after me? What had I done?

I merged to my right and unfortunately he followed. His car was mere inches from mine. I was being pulled over. This day had gone from bad to worse in seconds.

After flipping on the turn signal, I steered my car over to the side and shoved it into park. I grabbed the wallet from my purse. The faster I gave him my license, the quicker I could get out of there.

When I glanced in the mirror again, two policemen had emerged from the car. The problem was that I recognized one of them and he wasn’t a person I wanted to see. My stomach turned. This couldn’t be a good thing. The so-called cop I’d seen from last night was approaching my car.

I thought about peeling away from the curb, but I knew that wouldn’t end well. The other officer looked about twenty-nine or thirty. He was good-looking, with thick dark hair and big brown eyes. The good-looking cop was walking up to the passenger side of my Porsche and the mean-looking cop was coming up to my side. Was this really necessary? I’d seen fewer police on a drug raid.

The mean-looking officer’s stare was focused on me. He did not look happy. Just as he reached the back of my car, a crash sounded. He’d swung his stick at the back of my car and broken the taillight.

I tried to remain calm. I just hoped I didn’t end up in jail today. I would have a hard time explaining that to Oscar.

The cop’s stare was still on me as he walked up to the side of my car. He stopped by the window. The tag on his shirt said West. At least now I had his last name. More of his features were visible in the light of day. I’d seen he had dark hair last night, but now I saw that he had deep brown eyes. Wrinkles lined the corners of his eyes and he had a small scar on the left side of his upper lip. The officer was solid and well over six feet tall. He was like a tree towering over me.

“Hello, Officer,” I said in a singsong voice. “How are you?”

“Did I ask you to speak?” he barked.

Being the smartass that I was, I had to respond. “You didn’t ask, but I was curious about your wellbeing.”

Why didn’t I ever use my better judgment? For someone who didn’t want to go to jail, I was sure giving it my best shot.

“Do you know why I stopped you?” His voice held no mercy, only anger.

I had a feeling, yes, but I decided to go along with his little game.

“No.” My voice was full of saccharine sweetness. I wondered if he would fall for the batting eyelashes trick. Considering he looked as if he wanted to rip my face off, I doubted it.

“You have a busted taillight. I’m going to have to give you a ticket for that.” He pulled out his official ticket-writing notepad.

“But…”

He glared at me and I knew that it would only get worse if I said anything else.

“License and registration, please.”

I handed him the items. He turned on his heel and marched back to the car. The other officer was still beside the car. I guess he was assigned to keep an eye on me.

“You doing okay?” he asked as he leaned down against the car.

I frowned. “No, actually I’ve had better days.”

He stared at me under his thick eyelashes for a beat. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“You know my light wasn’t broken, don’t you?” I asked.

He studied my face, but didn’t answer. Finally, he pulled out a card. “Call me if you need anything.”

I looked at the thick white paper. Another officer’s name had been struck out and in pen underneath was written Marc Marquez.

I tapped the card with my index finger. “Are you Marc or the other name?”

A touch of red colored Officer Marquez’s cheeks. “I don’t have my cards yet. So I’m just using those until I get mine.”

Oh, great, an officer who had been on the force for two days. That would be a lot of help.

I motioned toward the back of the car with a tilt of my head. “What’s the other officer’s name?”

Officer Marquez paused and glanced toward the police car. “Phillip West.”

“Thanks,” I said.

He flashed his brilliant smile at me and then leaned back from the car when he spotted the other cop returning.

Stomping back to my side, Officer West thrust his hand forward and handed me a ticket and my items back. “I trust you will get that light fixed right away.”

I stared at him. “Yes, of course.”

“And you won’t get in any more trouble, right?” He focused his death glare on me.

I nodded. “Of course not.”

He stared and then walked away. Officer Marquez followed him and they climbed into their car. I made eye contact with Officer Marquez. He seemed sympathetic, but what good would that do me?

I had gotten the message loud and clear. That didn’t mean I would listen though. I had to find out what this cop Phillip West was trying to keep quiet.

I parked my car in front of the salon on the other side of the street. Cars passed down the street one after the other. After waiting for several cars to pass, I crossed to the other side.

I still couldn’t get the bad cop out of my head. Something about Phillip West wasn’t right and I knew it. I had to find out what he was up to and what he had done with the body in his trunk. It sent chills down my spine knowing that I had been that close to a dead man.

A man played the saxophone at the corner of the street and a delivery truck was being unloaded on my right. I pushed open the door and stepped into the salon. Varying shades of teal colored the space and black and white photos of the city decorated the walls. To my right was a sitting area with uncomfortable modern metal chairs. A glass coffee table sat in front of the chairs with hairstyle magazines and tabloids on top.

The receptionist’s desk was currently unattended. It always was. It wasn’t because they didn’t have a receptionist, it was because she was always in the back talking on her cellphone. I had no idea who she talked to so often. I had the feeling that the owner cared a lot though. I had no idea why the owner didn’t fire her.

I grabbed a magazine and was about to sit down when I spotted my stylist Jessie. She smiled and motioned for me to come back. I tossed the magazine on the table and hurried back. I’d have to read the latest gossip about Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie later.

Jessie motioned for me to sit in the chair. The salon was full and the other clients and stylists watched me as I made my way to her station.

Jessie wore high heels every time I saw her. I had no idea how she stood for so long in those things. She had short blonde hair with pink streaks. Today she wore a denim skirt and pink blouse.

She pulled out the cape. “So what’s going on?” She started to drape it around my neck.

“I didn’t come for a style. I need to know what the deal is with that house you sent me to last night,” I said.  

“What do you mean? How was the party?” She leaned against the small table next to her.

“The party was a bomb. No one was there. The lights were off and everything.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“There was some man there and he was stuffing a body into the trunk of his car. Turns out he’s a cop. Needless to say, he recognized me from TV and called my boss.” I stared at her through the mirror.

She made a timeout signal with her hands. “Wait. Back up. I am confused. There was a dead body?”

I nodded. “Yes, but of course I’m sure he would deny it was a dead body. I know differently though.”

She nodded. “Right.”

“You don’t believe me, fine, but I need to know who was supposed to throw the party.”

Jessie looked around, and then, when she was sure no one was listening to us, she said, “Well, you didn’t hear this from me, but the party was supposed to be hosted by no other than Bentley Miles.”

“The actor?” I asked.

“How many other Bentley Miles do you know?” She grabbed her scissors.

“What about this cop? Why would he be at the party?”

“Oh, I bet he was there for security. Do you think Bentley killed someone and they covered it up?” Her eyes widened.

“I don’t know, but that seems farfetched.”

“He’s a famous actor.” She pointed with her scissors. 

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t kill someone.”

She placed her hand on her hip. “True, but still… I will try to find out what happened.”

I nodded. “Thank you. That would mean a lot.”

“Are you sure you’re not ready for a touchup of color?” she asked, looking at my head in the mirror.

I stared at my reflection. “I’m okay for now.” I looked for any gray hair, but couldn’t find them. “So what about this cop? Do you think you can find out any information about him?”

She shook her head. “I can try but I can’t make any promises. Why are you so interested in him?”

I looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “He had a dead body in his trunk. My investigative mind will not let that go.” I wondered if I should tell her that he had stopped me.

She looked around the salon again. No one seemed to be paying attention to our conversation. And it was a good thing because they may have called the police on us.

“You don’t know for sure that it was a dead body.”

“What else could it be?” I asked.

“It could have been a bag of laundry,” she said.

I thought about that for a moment. She had me doubting what I’d seen for a moment. Then I shook my head. “No, I am sure of what I saw. Plus, that Dangerfield guy came around too. I am almost positive that he saw it too, although he denied it. I think he’s investigating the same story for his segment.”

“Oh, he is handsome. You two would make a great couple.” A dreamy look filled Jessie’s crystal-blue eyes.

I frowned.

She grimaced. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t like him.”

I pushed to my feet. “I am sure the feeling is mutual. Anyway, thank you for the help. It really means a lot to me.” I draped my purse strap on my shoulder and marched to the door.

The receptionist still hadn’t reappeared when I left. Fighting the traffic again, I crossed the street and climbed into my car. As much as I wanted to pursue this cop, I had to get other work done or my boss would have me in the office again.

I just knew that Dangerfield was going to figure this out before me and I couldn’t let that happen. He thought he was so slick. I’d show him.

I pulled away from the curb. I looked in my rear-view mirror and thank goodness I didn’t see the cop car this time.

After sneaking back into the office, I managed to get enough work done on a pyramid scheme story that I figured I could go home and do more research on Phillip West. I grabbed some takeout from the Chinese restaurant around the corner and headed toward my apartment. It seemed like an eternity since I’d thrown the so-called hexed sticks into the water. I hoped that I didn’t have to deal with my lovely neighbor again tonight.

I parked my car around back, and walked down the sidewalk to the front entrance door. The last rays of sunset turned to shades of deep navy and I had flashbacks to last night when I’d been parked out in front of the house staking out Bentley Miles’ party.

For a moment, I thought about heading over there again, but I figured it would be pointless. What were the odds that Phillip West would be back again tonight? Although if they had another body to get rid of, I supposed he would be there, since he’d possibly been hired to work for the actor. I made a note to research who owned the house. I opted to do the research from the comfort of my own apartment.

I inched into the building and peered down the hallway. So far, there was no sign of Nosy Perkins. All I had to do was make it to my door before she heard me. One voodoo spell was enough for one day.

Inside, I switched on the TV. Mainly I wanted it for background noise. I hated the quiet. It reminded me of how lonely it was to live alone. After making a trip to the kitchen for an apple and a little peanut butter, I sat down in front of my computer. I typed Phillip West’s name into the search engine, but all that came up was a few articles about drug-related arrests that he’d been involved with. That didn’t give me much to go on. I needed more personal information. How long had he been a cop? Was he married? Where was he from? Had he always lived in the city?

I stared at the screen wondering what I should do next. It was clear that I wasn’t going to find any information about this man tonight. I clicked off the computer and made my way over to the sofa. Maybe it was time to just zone out in front of the television.

I picked up the remote, but stopped just before I turned the channel. I hadn’t even realized that I had the channel on the competing station. It was time for Dangerfield’s segment. He was so smug because he had a spot on the nighttime news.

His face appeared on my screen. I should have just flipped the channel, but for some reason I couldn’t make myself turn him off. Tonight he was doing an investigative report about a local restaurant that didn’t clean the kitchen. Boring stuff. I studied his face. He really was handsome, but that didn’t make up for his cocky attitude. At the end of the report, he hinted at another big story that he was working on. He’d better not be talking about the same case that I was working on. I’d beat him to it if it was the last thing I did.

I clicked off the TV and headed for bed. As I brushed my teeth, I couldn’t stop fuming over the fact that Dangerfield had been at the scene last night. He had been trying to get the scoop just like me. But what else had he seen? I needed to find out what he knew. The only problem was that meant I would have to actually talk with him. There was no way I would do that. There had to be another way.

I washed my face, turned off the light, and climbed into bed. I couldn’t believe the last thing I was thinking about before falling asleep was Bill Dangerfield.