Motion for Murder (13 page)

Frankie blinked. "Why? He know where I can score some righteous narcotics?"

I could tell from my mother's expression that Frankie's sperm stock was plummeting fast. Sherri, on the other hand, looked interested for the first time.

"How
" My voice trailed off in a squeak. I cleared my throat and tried again. "How was he poisoned, exactly?"

Curt shrugged and forked a mound of mashed potatoes into his mouth. "My money's on that crap everyone says he was drinking when he collapsed." He glanced at my mother. "Sorry about the language, ma'am."

"It was coffee, wasn't it?" Sherri said. "I
told
you coffee's no good for you."

"Makes you impotent," Frankie agreed.

"It wasn't coffee," I said. "It was a protein shake. He had one every day."

"Which reminds me." Curt patted his lips with his napkin. "We still need to have that discussion."

My mother's ears perked up. "Discussion?"

"She don't know nothing," my father said at once. "And she's quitting that job tomorrow."

"By phone," my mother said, nodding.

"I can't quit my job," I said. "How will I pay the rent?"

My mother gestured with her fork toward Curt. "I'm sure Curtis will be perfectly happy to work something out."

"Then how will I pay my mortgage?" Curt asked.

"I'm sure the bank will be perfectly happy to work something out," my mother said.

Curt looked at her with wonderment.

"They have a point," Sherri said, less than helpfully. "You don't want to work with those awful people anymore, do you?"

"They're called lawyers," I said.

"Oh, hey, people," Frankie said, both arms up like an umpire calling time-out at the plate. "Let's not get all excited here. Just 'cause the dude was killed don't mean it ain't the place to be." He glanced at Curt. "You seem a little constipated over this, dude. Guy a friend of yours?"

"Curtis' brother is a policeman," my mother said, sitting straighter since she had at least one reputable dinner guest, even if he was standing firm on the rental negotiation policy.

"No shit." Frankie looked at Curt with renewed respect. Curt looked at Frankie with renewed suspicion. "Let me do you a solid," Frankie told him. "Check out the dude's secretary. Everyone knows you can't trust the secretary."

"
I
was one of his secretaries," I snapped.

"Huh." Frankie mulled this over while he chewed his meat loaf. "That's a bitch. Hope he signed the payroll before he checked out."

"Speaking of checking out." I slid back my chair and stood up. I was beginning to think I'd have been better off eating at the office. Off Dougie's plate. "Sherri and I have to leave."

"So soon?" My mother pointed to my plate. "But you didn't even finish your meal!"

"I lost my appetite."

"But you need protein," she protested. "At least eat your meatloaf."

"I don't think so."

"I'll fix you a doggy bag," she said, standing up.

"I'll help you," I said.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," Curt said on the way home. Sherri was tucked in the back seat with the doggy bags, not saying much. I was pressed against the passenger door, saying less. I didn't know whether to be mortified or angry or resigned, which is how I usually felt after having dinner with my parents. "Your mom's a hell of a cook," he added.

"I'm surprised you could eat anything." I turned the air conditioning down.

"Why, because of Ritter?" Curt shrugged. "He's harmless. I think." He glanced in the rear view mirror at Sherri. "You're not dating him or anything, are you?"

Her shudder rocked the Jeep. "God forbid. I half expected his head to start spinning around. He looks awful."

"Looks." Curt nodded. "Good to know you have your priorities straight."

"Sherri likes blonds," I told him. "That's why we're going bowling, so she can find herself a blond."

"Jamie!" she squawked. "Don't tell him that!"

"Like I don't already know," Curt told her. He looked at me. "I want to talk to you. And I want to do it tonight. So where's this bowling alley?"

I shook my head. "You can't come. This is girls only. You'll crimp our style."

"So will getting arrested." He glanced in the mirror at Sherri. "Again."

Sherri kicked the back of my seat. "I didn't tell him!" I snapped.

"She didn't have to," Curt said. "That story traveled faster than the space shuttle. Next time stick to citrus fruit and leave the kumquats alone."

"It was a cucumber," I said helpfully. "One of the biggest cucumbers I've
"

"
Jamie
!" I could tell by Sherri's voice she was close to hyperventilating. "Please! Can't we get rid of Mr. Produce here?"

"Your gutter balls can wait," Curt said. "This can't. Jamie's got to get out from under this Heath mess. I'm trying to help her."

"How?" Sherri asked. "By embarrassing me until I confess?"

"It's a new tactic." He smiled at her in the rear-view mirror. When Curt smiled, women tended to forgive him on the spot.

Predictably, she kicked the back of my seat.

"Okay, how's this. If you're so determined to figure this out tonight, Sherri can get a lane and warm up while we talk." I glanced at her for approval. She nodded dubiously.

"It'll have to do," he said. The Cherokee slid to a stop at a red light. "And by the way, this isn't a date."

No kidding.

Once we started moving again, I said, "So, what did you think about Paige today?"

He glanced over. "Why? You think she did it?"

"
Paige
did it?" Sherri squealed.

"I don't know who did it," I said. "She just seems…irritated by the whole thing is all. As opposed to grief-stricken."

"Grief-stricken?" Curt shook his head as he swung out from behind a slow-moving Cadillac. "Honey, no one's grief-stricken about Doug Heath's passing. Including Mrs. Heath."

"I knew it," Sherri said, which was pretty much what I'd been thinking. A fat check from Howard had been all the sympathy Hilary needed. "She probably killed him for the insurance money."

When Sherri wasn't shopping for a husband, she was busy watching
Murder, She Wrote
reruns on TV Land.

"Hey, I know!" She was on a roll now. "How about that young guy, Waldo? Maybe he figured getting rid of Dougie would put him on the fast track to partner!"

I lifted my eyebrows at Curt. His mouth tightened, considering it. "Oh, come on," I said. "Wally didn't do it. He didn't have the time. Too busy sniffing after Howard."

"Then Howard did it," Sherri yelled. "Wally was paying too much attention to Dougie, and Howard got jealous."

I twisted in my seat. "Would you, please?"

"Let her go," Curt said. "At least she's entertaining."

"Maybe I should become a detective." Sherri looked pleased. "I've got a real knack for this stuff. Don't you think?"

"You're a natural," Curt told her. "Now where do I turn?"

*  *  *

A half hour later, I was finishing up my second root beer, and Curt was making his food shopping list while nursing a Pepsi and waiting for me to talk about something other than adding Ding-Dongs to the list. It was my feeble way of stalling, since I didn't want to talk about Dougie. I think Curt knew it, but since he liked Ding-Dongs, too, he played along. Sherri had snagged an open lane next to a gaggle of teenaged boys and was growing her confidence by the minute. "You know this is just between us," he told me for the third time.

"Good." I pushed back my chair. "Then just between us, we're done. Now I can go get a ball and some ugly shoes."

"Not so fast." He put a hand on my forearm that stopped me cold. "I want to talk to you."

Thing is, I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want to talk to anybody. I'd already talked to the cops, and it hadn't helped me get my mind around any of this. Curt suspected it was Dougie's protein shake that had killed him. Missy routinely made Dougie's protein shakes. She'd had plenty of opportunity to mix poison into the can of powder. Missy had pilfered the mystery paper from Dougie's desk. It wasn't looking good for Missy, but I didn't want to be the one to cast suspicion on my friend. "Why?" I said. "This isn't even your brother's case."

"Jamie." The single word carried enough scorn to make me blush. "You're my tenant and my friend. You work in that place. The sooner we can figure out who killed Heath, the safer you'll be."

"I know. You're right."

"So talk to me," he said, and I did, giving him the redacted version. "So what do you think about Sherri's theory about Wally?" he asked when I was done.

"There's nothing to it. Wally's got a partnership. He wouldn't do anything that stupid."

"Like knocking off a partner?" Curt asked.

I couldn't think of anything to say to that, so I said nothing for a minute or two. Curt didn't press it. He'd made his point. Finally I tipped my head toward the snack bar. "Do I get a refill here?"

He headed off for another root beer while I sat there wondering why I was being so mulish, skirting around betraying a friend when she couldn't possibly have poisoned Dougie's protein shake in the first place. Probably it had something to do with dinner. My parents had struck a nerve in suggesting I should quit my job, even though it was an impossibility for me since I had no prospects and no savings to float me for even two weeks. Companies were stretching their personnel and trimming their payroll instead of hiring; I saw it on the news every night. On top of that, there was absolutely no way I was going to ask Curt to reduce my rent. I might have been late once or twice, but I'd never missed a month and never bounced a check.

"So who was in the office on Wednesday?" Curt asked me when he came back with my soda.

"Everyone, I think. But only Howard was in the kitchen with Dougie."

"And you and Paige."

I nodded.

"What about Wally?"

I gave it some thought. "He was upstairs, I guess. Ken was in deps in the conference room."

"What about that other girl, the paralegal?"

"Donna?" I shook my head. "Don't waste your time. She's Country Mouse with a law library. She can't even stand up for herself, let alone kill someone."

"It's always the quiet ones," he said. "What's Donna's last name?"

"Warren. You don't really think she
"

"I don't think anything," he said. "Cam can do that."

Cam was Curt's older brother, and he'd become a decorated member of the police force after some years as a Navy SEAL. He was a six-feet-four human monolith with only testosterone and adrenaline in his veins.

"This is strictly bonus footage," Curt said. "Two buddies chatting."

I wasn't buying it. Buddies chatted about sports and dating and movies, not murder investigations. But I was willing to be the helpful to a point, as long as the root beer kept flowing.

"Now, Janice." I took a drink. "She's got no assertiveness problems. I think she could go toe to toe with Hilary."

Curt stopped jotting notes and looked up at me. "Where was Janice on Wednesday?"

"I couldn't tell you," I said. "But I know we were all in the conference room after Dougie
afterwards. Ken said some things and went to call Hilary."