Shot Through Velvet (37 page)

“Couldn’t be her. She was really outraged about the ruined velvet. She might kill Rod Gibbs in a fight, but she would never have killed him in cold blood and then destroyed her own velvet. She loved that velvet.”

“Inez Garcia. She strikes me as more of a follower than an instigator. So could she be the partner?”

“Inez hooked up with Sykes. Together they could have done it. Then Sykes comes up with his Velvet Avenger story. Misdirection?”

“Maybe.” Vic sounded dubious.

“There were a lot of hookups the night we were there, after the body was discovered,” Lacey said. “At least, it seems that way.”

“Death does that. Death changes things. People realize life is short and brutal, and what are they waiting for? They go to bed with someone. They prove they’re alive. It’s romantic. It’s all in Hemingway.”

“Get out of here,” Lacey snickered. “Anyway, as I was saying, Dirk Sykes hooked up with Inez Garcia. Honey Gibbs was with Gavin Armstrong, and I think Kira Evans might have hooked up with Hank Richards.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t think they wanted anyone to notice. So I noticed. Hank Richards was pretty cool and collected that night. He didn’t drink as much as the others, and he took particularly good care of Kira. Without making any fuss about it. I thought it was strange at the time that Kira was wearing long sleeves and a turtleneck when everyone else was in short sleeves and some were in shorts,” Lacey said. “That’s not the best protective gear, but it was hot in the factory and the dryers were on. Nicholson told me it could get to ninety degrees in there in the winter. Kira kept rubbing her arms. I guess the wool would have been pretty itchy in those temperatures. I was awfully warm myself. Inez teased her about having a love bite, which showed on her neck. Anyway, Hank diverted the conversation like a gentleman.”

“All you’re really saying is that Richards is a classier guy than Sykes. But yeah, they could have hooked up,” Vic admitted. “So maybe Kira was covering up a hickey? And if that’s the case, they might even have been hooking up right when Rod took his last stroll through the factory.”

“I love these romantic chats, Vic. Hemingway, hickeys, and hookups.” Lacey checked her watch. Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong were singing “Under a Blanket of Blue” on the CD player. “Why did Rod Gibbs derail the security cameras the night he died?”

“He disabled the cameras because he was up to no good,” Vic laughed. “He was an up-to-no-good kind of guy. But what specifically was he after? If we narrow that down, we might narrow down his killer’s motives.”

“You said motive is misleading,” Lacey said.

“Not always.”

“In that case, Nicholson suspected Rod was skimming money from the company. But Rod couldn’t have gone there to take money, because there wasn’t any kept on-site. Maybe some petty cash. So why bother?”

“More likely he was after records,” Vic said. “Files, documents, CDs, hard drives. Maybe he wanted to cover his tracks.”

“Okay. But he was also a guy who was into immediate gratification. What if he went to the factory that night to pull more of his harassment-and-intimidation crap?” Lacey rubbed her face.

“What’s bothering you, Lacey?”

“Something Nigel’s mom said about having to find the quiet to find the answer. Or something like that.”

“Has the answer boiled up, then?” Vic looked over at her, then back at the road.

“No, but I keep thinking about the one quiet person in all of this: Kira Evans. She was the bookkeeper. She worked late that night because Nicholson asked her to. She knew about Gibbs’s embezzling. Maybe Rod went there to get what he’d been after for so long.”

“She said she left before eleven,” Vic pointed out. “Rod wasn’t killed till later.”

“Yeah, that’s what she
said
. That’s what everybody says. Her only alibi is her daughter. There are no security tapes to prove that one way or the other.”

“Ironic, isn’t it? Rod derailed the lousy security system that might have shown us his killer.”

“What if it was Kira who killed him?” Lacey looked in the paper sack, hoping for some more muffin crumbs. The bag was empty.

“Her? Darling, you just took quite a leap.”

“Kira Evans filed a sexual harassment claim against Rod. Remember, Honey Gibbs said Rod never forgot a slight. He always paid it back. Like the boat. He schemed until he got that boat, the
Gypsy Princess
, away from Hank Richards and Dirk Sykes. He slept with Sykes’s wife. He tried to get Hank fired. He made Honey suffer.” Lacey turned the music down a little. Madeleine Peyroux was singing “Blue Alert.”

“Okay, Gibbs is a rotten guy. I get it.”

“But Gibbs hadn’t gotten his revenge on Kira Evans, not yet. He toed the line after her harassment complaint, but he was running out of time. He wouldn’t have many more opportunities to even the score. To get her alone. What if he still wanted her sexually, and he wanted to punish her? Maybe it was the same thing.”

“He planned to assault her that night? That’s why he messed with the cameras, so there’d be no proof? But why, with all these likely candidates, are you settling on Kira?” Vic glanced sideways at her. “What’s going on in that dangerous brain of yours?”

“Kira’s love bite. And her reaction when Inez teased her,” Lacey said. “Yesterday, Felicity had a hickey. She was all giggles and blushes when Broadway Lamont pointed it out. But she still smiled at Harlan. She really loves him, the poor schnook. She may not have enjoyed being busted, but she was proud of—Well, I don’t need to go into that, do I, Vic? But there was nothing like that with Kira. No secret smile, no love. Just embarrassment and discomfort. So what if Kira’s mark wasn’t a hickey or a love bite, but something more serious? Something like . . . bruises?”

“From Gibbs? Gibbs left marks on her throat? If that’s true, Lacey, then killing him was self-defense. Kira could say, ‘He assaulted me, Officer, so I killed him.’ Gibbs had a history. Everybody hated him. The cops down there would be happy to believe her. She walks. She’s a local hero, in fact. So why the big cover-up? And why truss him up like some strange cult sacrifice to the Blue Velvet Gods?”

Lacey closed her eyes and went over what she remembered from her visit to Black Martin, the factory tour and the discovery of Gibbs’s body, and that evening in the Mexican restaurant.

“Kira was quiet and edgy that night, when everyone else was rowdy,” Lacey finally said. “She didn’t drink margaritas with the rest of the laid-off workers. She had one wine spritzer.”

“Well, aren’t you the hall monitor.”Vic grinned. “Doesn’t make her a killer, sweetheart. She’s mighty small.”

“When will you macho men ever learn?” Lacey snorted. “Like Shakespeare says, ‘Though she be but little, yet she is fierce.’ You’re right. She is small. But angry and backed into a corner, who knows what she’d be capable of? Rod was shot with his own gun.”

“If she killed him, and I’m not convinced she did, she had to have help for the rest of it,” Vic said. “Did she hit Wade the security doofus over the head? Did she dye Gibbs blue? And what about Walt Pojack? Did she do that too?”

“That might be where the Velvet Avenger comes in. Taking advantage of the first murder to lead everyone in the wrong direction.” Lacey rubbed her head. “Or . . . I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?”

“I don’t know how Kira could possibly dye the man blue! Or why! Except that it’s sort of poetic justice. And I don’t believe she killed Pojack.”

“Okay, she’s still the top of our list for the day.”

“Think she’ll talk?” Lacey liked his confidence.

“No harm in trying. And I’ll have to give Mordecai Caine a heads-up.” They pulled over at the next exit for a quick break to change drivers. Vic made a call to the state cop while Lacey bought sodas at a McDonald’s.

“What did Caine say?” Lacey asked when she got in the Jeep’s driver’s seat and adjusted the seat and mirrors.

“What I expected. He thanked me for my interest and information. But to please remember that the state police have the investigation under control.” Vic laughed. “It’s like what I used to say to certain media busybodies.”

“Yes, I seem to remember that.” She poked him, then pulled the Jeep onto the highway. “But I was never a busy-body. The word you’re looking for is
reporter
.”

“If you say so.” He changed the subject. “We’ll be having lunch with Forrest.”

“Turtledove. My man.”

“The man. He’s checking on Kira’s whereabouts, so we can talk to her later.”

“We’re not the police, Vic. So far, she’s been a very quiet lady.”

“I’m running the security contract for the factory she loves.” Vic flashed his devastating smile. “And I can be real persuasive when I want information.”

“What do you want to know, cowboy? I’ll tell you everything I know.” Lacey grinned at him. “Maybe.”

Chapter 34

“Swanky place,” Lacey said. The Flaming Pit Bar-B-Q on the outskirts of Black Martin was crowned by a happy pig wearing a chef’s hat, outlined in neon flames.

“Only the best for you, sweetheart.” Vic opened the Pit’s door for her. “It’s supposed to have a great brunch.”

Once inside the place, Lacey still had her doubts. It looked more like a burned-out Saturday night than a fresh Sunday afternoon. The walls were dark wood. The oak booths were scarred with graffiti, and the place had a smoky feel, even though Virginia’s bars and restaurants had finally gone nonsmoking. The locals were watching a basketball game and paid no attention to the newcomers at the bar.

Turtledove was waiting for them. His grin was fierce, and Lacey was glad he was on their side.

“Armstrong,” Vic nodded toward the window as someone pulled up in the lot. “I believe that’s his pickup now.”

“Why is he here?” Lacey asked.

“I invited him. Invited Caine too,” Vic said. “Professional courtesy. Caine said no. Professional discourtesy.”

The door opened. He wasn’t in uniform, but Officer Gavin Armstrong still looked like a cop. With Vic and Turtledove, Armstrong made it look like a meeting of the Muscle Dudes Club. Everyone shook hands. A waitress showed them all to a booth, where they ordered brunch platters and drinks. It wasn’t cutting the tension.

“I didn’t think you were actively involved in the investigation,” Lacey said to Armstrong, when their drinks arrived. He seemed a little less like a pit bull than the last time she’d exchanged words with him.

“Caine doesn’t want me in on it. Says I have too many conflicts. I guess you know I have a personal interest.” Armstrong looked tired and concerned. “But I am in on it. I want to see this killer caught. So what are y’all here for, Donovan? And you, ma’am? Another big story?”

“With my company taking over plant security, I just want to make sure everyone’s safe,” Vic said. “I’ll offer any professional help I can provide. Maybe I can ask some questions no one else is asking. And if that means staying out of your way, and the state troopers’ way, that’s cool by me. I’d just like to get the lay of the land before I stick my foot in it.”

“And yes, I want the story,” Lacey said. “But I want to make sure it’s accurate. I’m not the
National Enquirer
.”

Armstrong chuckled. “Small blessing. That
Enquirer
reporter’s been raising Caine’s hackles to a perilous level.”

“Heard you had words with Caine yourself,” Vic said.

“I suppose Little Miss Peephole there heard everything?” Armstrong glared at Lacey.

“You were loud,” Lacey said in her defense. “I could have heard you out in the parking lot.”

He nodded. “Caine and me, we are not cut out to be bowling buddies, that’s for sure. But we’re working together on this case, when he remembers that. You heard what you heard fair and square. My apologies for flying off the handle. So, what can I tell you?”

“Who’s first on Caine’s list?” Vic asked.

“He finally gave up on me. Now he’s trying to pin this killing on Honey Gibbs. But that won’t wash. I know one hundred percent for sure that Honey had nothing to do with Rod’s death. And he’s got nothing on her! Nothing but motive. She had plenty of that, let me tell you.”

So Armstrong knew Honey was innocent because he’d spent the night of the murder with her. Lacey had already heard that story from Honey, but the cop clearly didn’t want to go on the record with it unless it became absolutely necessary. But it didn’t really take them off the suspect list, Lacey knew. Their alibis were basically each other, so they could have killed Gibbs together and spent the night together too.

“Aside from Honey,” Lacey said.

“All the usual suspects and the unusual suspects too. Everyone who ever worked at Dominion, even the ones who aren’t around here anymore. Many folks who had reason to hate Rod left town to find new jobs. They’re trying to narrow it down to just his enemies who stayed around town. That’s still a hell of a lot of people to interview, lots of alibis to check. It’s a big job. So mostly Caine’s focusing on recently fired factory workers who had a serious grievance against Gibbs. Nobody looks good so far. Of course, there’s poor old Wade Dinwiddy, the night security screwup.”

“What do you make of Wade?” Vic asked.

“He’s stupid,” Armstrong said. “Not too stupid to kill someone. Too stupid not to leave a big, old forensic trail like a neon sign. But he could have gotten lucky. Be the first time ever for him.”

Wade seemed to have a way of making people dislike him and pity him at the same time. “Still, he might know something,” she said.

“If you can get it out of that booze-soaked brain of his,” the cop agreed. “Seems he must have been there during the murder. Passed out drunk, it looks like. Banged his head.”

“Who else besides Wade?”

“Well, it doesn’t sit well with Caine that Blythe Harrington assaulted the corpse.”

Their waitress arrived laden down with brunch plates. “What do you make of Harrington as a suspect?” Vic asked, when the waitress scurried away.