Nursing a Grudge is Murder (A Maternal Instincts Mystery) (20 page)

“No,” I shrugged. “Mr. Miles isn’t your real client, is he?”

V.D. looked confused, then suddenly said, “You think Barramendi would hire you?”

Ouch!

He started laughing so hard I thought he might split his gut.

Thankfully, it seemed the kick I’d given him served to curtail a bit of his laughter, because he clutched his gut and said, “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

“Good!” I said.

He got serious for a moment and said. “I’m sorry, Kate. But there was no way Barramendi was going to hire you.”

“Why not?” I challenged.

“Because he's my cousin and he owes me. Besides, I'm the only P.I. he ever hires.”

I refrained from telling him that I’d worked for Barramendi in the past. Who knew, perhaps they’d had a family feud going on.

Frustration welled inside me and I turned to leave.

“If you want, I’ll share whatever information I find on the laptop on one condition.”

I took a deep breath and waited him out. “What?” I finally asked.

“You audition for my play.”

I felt myself go cold. “I'm not auditioning for your play.”

“Why not? You’d be perfect for the main character, you know.”

“I wouldn't. I'm sure I wouldn't be.”

“Of course you would be. She's a hottie.” He gave me a lopsided smile.

Now what?

Was I going to argue that I wasn’t hot?

“And I cast your mother in the mom role. You’d be perfect in the daughter role. Besides your mom says you’re fantastic on stage. You trained in the theater, right?”

Oh God! I was going to kill Mom!

“I’m busy,” I said. “Very busy. New baby plus new career equals super busy,” I said.

“Well, it's only a staged reading at first,” he said. “Not so much of a time commitment—”

I cut him off. “Are you crazy? We're standing in Mark Zloky’s houseboat, stealing his laptop. Why are you negotiating with me over a staged reading?”

“You’re right,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

He unlocked the door and waved me ahead of him. I climbed up the short staircase, suddenly feeling uncomfortable walking in front of him. After all, he had just called me hot. Now he was looking at my rear-end.

I stopped at the top of the staircase and looked out into the main level of the boat.

The coast was clear. V.D. seemed to give no heed as to whether or not he would get out safely. I quickly climbed off the boat and made my way to the harbor. V.D. followed me, the laptop clutched under his arm.

I had to think of a way to get it.

Chapter Twenty-One

“At least the weather is clear today,” I said. “Nice day to be out and about.”

He nodded in agreement.

“How about an ice cream?” I asked.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “You want to have an ice cream with me?”

I smiled. “Sure, we can discuss the case a little bit further.”

He looked at me suspiciously. “Okay, and how about we talk about my play?”

“Yeah sure, you can tell me all about it,” I said as we made our way down the main drag of Sausalito.

We walked into the same gelato shop I’d been in earlier. I ignored the look the girl behind the counter gave me. After all, drastic times call for drastic measures. I ordered myself a big double scoop of lemon meringue pie gelato in a waffle cone. Vicente ordered himself a Rocky Road.

We took seats by the window and watched the people on the main drag.

“Is Mr. Miles out on bail?” I asked.

“No, no. They didn’t jail him, just brought him in for questioning,” V.D. said.

I raised an eyebrow. “Do you think they asked him about Mrs. Miles?” Then added, “Lillian Miles,” for good measure.

Vicente stuck his spoon into his Rocky Road cup and swirled the ice cream around. “I don’t know. Why would they ask him about his wife?”

I suddenly felt superior. I was privy to information V.D. didn’t have. Then a blast of self-consciousness attacked me and I wondered if he were simply pretending he didn’t know anything in order to get information out of me.

I decided to steer clear of a potential landmine and asked instead, “How did you get started as a P.I.?”

V.D. licked the back of his spoon. “Well, my cousin became an attorney, and he needed people to start investigating things for him, and I needed a way to make a living. He encouraged me to get my license. I've been working for him ever since.”

If Vicente was Barramendi’s go-to P.I., why had he showed an interest in hiring me?

“What do you know about Mark Zloky?” I asked.

V.D. shrugged. “Not much. Nothing, in fact. I’m not even sure why you’re interested in him.” He patted the laptop. “I’m hoping this will shed some light.”

I glared at him. Conflicting feelings battled inside me. I wanted so much to share my thoughts on the case with someone, but I realized I couldn’t share them with V.D. I figured he’d laugh at me when I got things wrong and in general make me feel like a fool.

I focused on my lemon meringue ice cream and silently decided not to tell Vicente about Melanie. After all, McNearny needed time to notify next of kin, and there
was a chance her death might not even be connected to Perry’s…although I found that hard to believe.

We headed back to my car. His dented Harley parked next to my vehicle.

“So what’s up with your phone?” V.D. asked.

I suddenly realized that he couldn’t have tracked me through my cell phone. “It’s broken,” I said, turning toward him. “Did you follow me here?”

He laughed. “Of course.”

My blood boiled so fast, it felt like steam was coming out of my ears, but before I could turn my wrath on him, he pulled something out from the carrier case on the back of his bike.

“I went by your place to give this to you, but I saw you leave so I followed you here.” He held out a package wrapped in a plastic bag. “Does this belong to you, Mrs. Connolly?”

I took a step back, my anger turning to embarrassment. “No!” I said.

He smiled, an evil little wicked grin that said he knew I was lying. “How do you know? You don’t even know what’s inside.” He waved the package at me, taunting me.

“What is it?” I asked. I could feel my cheeks burning hot.

He pushed the package into my hand. “Take a look.”

I opened the package, already knowing what was inside: my lock pick set.

Ack, he knew it was me. I felt so foolish.

“This isn’t mine,” I said. I almost went so far as to say that I didn’t know what it was, but since I’m a P.I. in training, that lie would make me look even more like a dolt.

He pressed his lips together. I’m sure it was to suppress another goddamn grin. After a moment, he said, “Really? It must be yours.”

“No,” I shrugged. “What makes you think it’s mine? Where did you find it?”

“I fingerprinted it. I know it’s yours. Do you think I’m a rookie?”

I was silent.

“And I found it exactly where you left it. Did you learn anything?” he asked.

He studied me intently, his expression changing from the charming guy to something else, like maybe there actually was something he was hiding.

What could that be?

I shrugged off his intensity and laughed. “Just that you…”

“What?” he asked.

“You suspect Sam Kafer.”

Vicente’s expression changed. “Why do you say that?”

“There was a big glossy…headshot…” I cut myself off. “Oh, God!”

He smiled again, that annoying, cocky, smug, childish “gotcha” smile.

“Sam was auditioning for your play, wasn’t he?” I said.

Vicente nodded. “Yeah, I cast him today.”

I absently wondered about Melanie’s time of death. The Medical Examiner would probably give McNearny that information soon. Would Sam’s alibi be that he was auditioning for V.D.’s play at the time of Melanie’s demise?

I climbed into my car and said over my shoulder. “I didn’t find anything else at your apartment that was useful because there was somebody there.”

He laughed. “She scared you off, eh?”

“Yes.” I closed the door to my car, then rolled down my window. “Now are you going to share the information you find on the laptop or do I need to break into your place and steal it back?”

“There aren’t many things I share, Mrs. Connolly.” He got on his bike and smiled at me. “But I like your Mom, so I’ll let you know what I find.”

<><><>

On my way home I stopped at a pet supply store and stocked up on kitty litter, food, bowls, a few toys and even a scratching post. I wasn’t entirely certain Jill would adopt the cat, and even if she wanted him, I didn’t know when she would pick him up.

When I got to my house, I found Laurie playing on the floor with some plastic rings. Every time she pulled a ring toward her, Whiskers dove for it and Laurie squealed with delight.

I scooped Laurie into my arms. “How’s mommy’s little peanutty pie?”

Whiskers rubbed against my ankles then trotted over to sniff and paw at the pet store bags.

Kenny came into the living room gnawing on a crust of bread. “There’s nothing in the fridge,” he complained.

I laughed. “Didn’t I just give you lunch before I went to Sausalito?”

“Cha, but that was over an hour ago!” Kenny complained.

I sighed. I would have told him he was a bottomless pit, but I remembered that I’d had two ice creams and a coffee since I’d left. “Order takeout,” I said.

Laurie’s pudgy hand pawed at my necklace. She was already rooting for milk.

“I don’t have any money,” Kenny whined.

I fished a twenty out of my pocket and pressed it into his hand.

“Were you able to talk to the guy on the boat?” Kenny asked.

“No, I stole his laptop instead,” I said.

Kenny clapped his hands together in excitement. “Now we’re talking! Where’s she at?”

“It got stolen from me.”

“What?” he asked.

“I know. It’s ridiculous. Another P.I. swiped it out from under me. Long story.”

Kenny grumbled and I caught him up on my trip out to Sausalito. When I finished, the only thing Kenny said was, “Does the guy know how to hack?”

“What do you mean?”

Kenny shrugged. “The other P.I.—is he a computer guy or does he have a computer guy?”

“I don’t know. He’s a P.I. playwright.”

Kenny gave me a sidelong look.

“Oh God, you want to work for him now?”

Kenny placed one hand over his heart in a very dramatic gesture. “No, no, you know I…I…”

“Shut up,” I said. “His number’s over there,” I pointed to my office.

Kenny leapt off my couch. “I’ll let you know what I find.”

<><><>

After Kenny left I quickly fed the kitty then nursed Laurie. When I laid Laurie down for her nap, part of me wanted to nap right alongside her, but the other part needed to digest the case. When I figured out who killed Perry and Melanie, then I’d have myself a really good sleep.

I doodled in my notebook and tried to review what I knew, but my thoughts kept drifting to the second ice cream helping I’d had. I decided that I should go for an evening run as soon as Jim got home, so I changed into my running clothes and paced around my living room.

My phone rang and I dove for it, hoping it was Jill or Galigani. Mom’s voice filled the line. “I was cast in the play.”

“Congratulations,” I said. “I heard you were trying to get me cast as well.”

Mom laughed. “Oh, that was payback for breaking my beau’s ankle.”

I cringed. “How is he?”

“They’ve put him in a boot of some sort. A cast-boot thing…I think they’re going to release him today. I’m on way to pick him up anyway.”

“All right, tell him to call me when he can. I have news.”

Mom pressed me for the news and as I began to tell her about finding Melanie, my phone line beeped. “Oh, Mom, we’ll talk later. I gotta go. That’s Jill phoning me on the other line.”

I toggled lines over to speak with Jill.

She said, “Kate! I got your message. Sorry, I couldn’t phone you earlier. I’ve been in the studio filming all day.”

I broke the news to her about Melanie and listened sympathetically to her grief. She asked me the standard questions, “What happened?” “When,” the rhetorical “Why,” and finally the predictable, “Was I sure?”

I told her about my conversation with the Yosemite hiker’s mother and the fact that she’d indicated a blonde woman named Lillian had been camping with Rick the weekend of his demise.

She gasped. “Lillian is Brent Miles’ wife!”

“Right!” I said. “And another thing, I found out the identity of the guy following you. His name is Mark Zloky. We have his laptop. We’re looking to see if there is a connection to Miles or his wife.”

I hoped Kenny would get a chance to look at the laptop. After all, suppose V.D. hid or destroyed evidence that could link Mrs. Miles to creepy skull cap guy?

“What do you mean, we? Have the police arrested him?” she asked.

“Oh, no, no,” I said. “I probably shouldn’t have told you. I don’t know that any of this will stand up in court…I think its probably not a legal…what’s the term?”

“Search and seizure?” she asked.

The sound of my footsteps on my front stairs resonated through the living room and sent Whiskers skidding down my hallway. “Hey, one more thing. I have Perry’s kitten.”

“What?” she asked.

“Whiskers. He was at Melanie’s. She must have found him. Do you want him?”

She sighed. “I’m allergic.”

Secretly, I was thrilled, but convincing Jim was going to be a different story. We hung up as my front door lock clicked and the door swung open.

Jim smiled at me. “Honey! I landed the client!”

I hugged him. “Oh, I’m so proud of you.”

“I called you a couple times, but you didn’t pick up.”

“My cell phone broke.”

Jim made a sad face. “Oh, we’ll have to get you a new one tomorrow, huh?” He headed for the kitchen and rooted around for a beer. “What’s for dinner?”

“Uh…”

He laughed. “Why don’t I buy? Where do you want to go?” He glanced at my outfit. “Were you planning on going for a run?”

“Yeah. I was waiting on you. Laurie’s asleep. I have tons to tell you, but I’ll tell you over dinner. I’m going to take a quick run on the beach, okay?”