Booked to Kill, page 18
Memories of the morning flared to life inside her, and she cringed. “This morning was so weird. Like we didn’t know how to be around each other. He jumped right back into work mode. Didn’t say anything about what had happened. What if he regrets sleeping with me?”
“What if he doesn’t? Did you talk about it?”
She twisted her lips, hating the doubt that had clouded her judgment. “No.”
“Maybe he’s as confused as you. Maybe he thinks you regretted sleeping with him, and he didn’t want to upset you.”
She crushed her eyes closed against the statement, wishing she had been more assertive. She was so wrapped up in her own head she hadn’t considered what he’d been feeling. Something she should have done, considering what he’d confided about Mary.
“Enough about what it all meant,” Christine said, breaking into her spiraling thoughts. “How was it?” She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows.
Heat crashed back into her cheeks. “Amazing.”
Christine let out a squeal and clapped her hands together.
Olivia laughed. “Stop it. Everything happened so naturally. I was afraid my first time after Dave would be weird. That’d I’d be wracked with guilt the whole time. But it was...beautiful and easy and just made me happy.” She smiled thinking back on it. “I even cried at the end.”
Oh. My. God.
She pressed her hands to her mouth. “Holy shit! I cried after! He must think I’m crazy.”
Christine winced. “Or that having sex with him upset you. That you weren’t ready. You really need to talk to him about this.”
She went back to banging her head against the desk. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
“Oh, now. You’ve been through a lot, and this is all new to you. You’re allowed to make some...missteps.” Christine hurried around the desk and gave her a reassuring squeeze.
“Quick. Tell me something to distract me. How are you holding up?” Mentally bringing herself back together, she focused on her friend.
“I’m okay. Staying with Paul the last few nights has helped keep my mind off what happened to Courtney. And he’s been so supportive. The commute from Queens at 4:30 a.m. every morning has been a bit rough, but a small price to pay for happiness I guess.”
Olivia straightened and grabbed her phone from her pocket. “Queens? I didn’t know that’s where he lived. I want to show you something.” She opened her Facebook app and clicked to Mason’s profile page again. Jack might be on his way to interview a new suspect, but maybe she could find something on Edward or Mason they’d missed the night before. “Do any of these places look familiar?”
Christine grabbed the phone and flipped through the photos. She enlarged one of the pictures and pointed to a large sculpture of the earth behind a smiling Mason with the woman she assumed was a grandparent. “This looks like Corona Park. Paul and I were just there last weekend.”
“Anything else?”
She pointed out a few other places she recognized in Queens, then frowned. “Isn’t that the guy who worked with Dave? The one who took over his position after he died?”
Oh God. She’d forgotten about that. In her haze of grief and misery, many of the things that had transpired at Dave’s work after his death had barely registered. Why would they? She only knew what Mason revealed, and she’d assumed he’d wanted her to feel included in the world that Dave had spent so much of his time in.
“I need to tell Jack about Mason’s connection to Queens.” She took back her phone and shot off a text, alerting him to the fact that Mason had posted several pictures in the borough Jack had been interested in.
“Why? What does it mean?”
Her stomach turned and a nervousness hummed around her. “It means that if Nathanial Cuppio is a dead end, Jack might have another suspect.”
* * *
The ding of a text message broke the silence between him and Max as they walked down the crowded sidewalk in search of the right building. His heart leaped to his throat when he saw Olivia’s name. The message might have information that could prove useful in his investigation, but her words did nothing to the spiderweb of thoughts and emotions clogging his brain after their horrible car ride.
“What is it?” Max asked, slowing to a crawl behind two tourists snapping pictures with every step.
“Olivia. Photos we saw of Mason Shaffer are from Queens. Her friend recognized some of the locations.” Irritation at the snail’s pace forced on them had him tightening his grip on the phone.
The streets were always packed on Sunday afternoons, especially when the weather was warm and the sun was high. Vendors set up shop on the busy sidewalks, hawking their wares. Tourists loitered on the sidewalks, not wanting to miss any part of the city around them.
“That’s the only tie we have to Queens so far,” Max said. “But a few pictures still don’t amount to much.”
“Agreed.” The new nugget of information made his head hurt. Nathaniel Cuppio fit the mold of who they were looking for. He had prior arrests, violent tendencies, and had shown an interest in Olivia’s art with the fan mail he’d sent her. Now this new detail stuck to him like a burr.
He hurried around the stragglers, his focus still on his phone. “I ran a background check on Mason. He lived with his single mom in Brooklyn. Went to school at Columbia. Now lives downtown. Nothing that ties him to Queens.”
“Do you know his address?” Max asked than led them to the elevator at the far side of the lobby and pressed the button for the nineteenth floor.
“Not off the top of my head, but I can find it easy enough. If this little meeting ends up a bust, we need to pay Mason a visit next.”
“Maybe we won’t need to worry about that. Let’s keep our heads straight with this interview.”
He sent Olivia a quick note of thanks, stuffed his phone back in his pocket, then stepped out of the elevator when the doors slid open.
The hallway was wide and clean. The scent of lemon in the air. Tasteful art dotted the walls between the windows that let sunlight flood inside. The effect reminded him of Olivia’s apartment and the bedroom she’d converted into her studio.
Stopping at the door marked 19B, he knocked and waited. Nervous energy zipped through him, and he jingled spare change in his front pocket.
The door swung open to a balding man with a square face and curious green eyes. Dark smudges stained his white shirt. “Hello?”
Max flashed his badge again. “Nathanial Cuppio?”
He frowned. “Yes.”
“I’m Detective Green. This is my partner, Detective Stone. Do you have a moment to speak with us about Olivia Hickman?”
His head reared back and the wrinkles running the length of his forehead deepened. “Oh. My. Why, yes. Please come in.” He opened the door wide to let them inside, closing it behind them. “I’m a big fan of her work. Is she all right? Geez, I mean, why would the police be here to talk to me about her if everything was okay? Do you want to sit? Water?” He fluttered like a nervous bird, bopping around the open space.
Jack fought to keep his gaze on the jittery man, but the explosion of colors hung on the walls stole his attention. A dozen canvases were mounted all around the room. There was something familiar about the paintings. He stepped closer, studying the thick lines. “Are these Olivia’s paintings?”
Nathanial wrung his hands and nodded. “Yes. I admire her work so much. I’ve followed her career from the start. Bought some of her earlier pieces before you could even find her in a gallery. And now she’s at A Peculiar Sight. Not a super established gallery, but a good stepping-stone for her.”
Jack sucked in a long, steadying breath as he took in the ramblings. If they were looking for someone with an obsession, they’d found him. “Did you send her fan mail?”
“Every month,” he said, smiling like it was something to be proud of. “As a fellow artist, I understand how difficult it can get to keep your spirits up. I want her to know she has someone on her side. How she’s inspired me to be a better artist. Do you want to see?”
He and Max exchanged a long look as Nathanial nearly ran, disappearing behind a wall, only to re-emerge with a sketchbook. “See,” he said, flipping it open. “I draw. Mostly still lifes. But Olivia, wow, she’s a sight to behold, isn’t she? I can’t resist trying to capture her essence on the page.”
Sketches like the one found in the box filled the white space, and Jack clenched his jaw. Something was off about this man, but he wasn’t convinced he was the one threatening Olivia. “Can you tell me where you were yesterday morning? Around 7:00 a.m.?” He refused to give any praise over the disturbing images of the woman he was falling for. No reason to encourage this creep.
Nathanial swished his mouth to the side. “Hmm, yesterday morning at that time I was getting breakfast before heading into work. I just got a new job at an art supply store. Killer discount and I get a chance to speak with other artists. Not the most exciting job, but it helps pay the bills.”
“Where did you get breakfast?” Max asked.
“A little café that’s just amazing. I go every morning.” He widened his eyes as if letting them in on a special secret.
“Can anyone testify you were there?” Jack asked, his gut sinking. If this guy had an alibi, they were chasing a dead end.
Nathaniel shrugged. “Sure. Diane worked the counter. She knows me. She’ll tell you. Or I have the receipt still. I always keep those things. Never know when I’ll need them.” A nervous laugh bubbled from his throat as he scooped his wallet from his baggy jeans and fished out a receipt. “You can have it if you want it.”
Jack double-checked the date and time. Dammit. No way Nathanial was in Cold Spring attacking Olivia when he was buying coffee in the city at 7:23 a.m. “I don’t need to keep it, but do you mind if I snap a picture? And I’ll need the number of someone at your job who can confirm you were at work yesterday.”
“Sure, go ahead. Are you going to tell me why you need to know?” He fiddled with his phone. “I can send you my boss’s number. Call anytime.”
Jack used his phone to take the picture, then suppressed a sigh. He’d thought this was the guy they were after, when it turned out he was just an overly enthusiastic fan who gave off a very bad vibe. He couldn’t do anything to stop Nathaniel from admiring Olivia or her work, but he’d put the fear of God himself in the man while he could. “Someone is trying to hurt her. Has threatened and stalked and scared the shit out of her. If I find out that you have any knowledge of who this is, or that you have harmed her in any way, I’ll be back, and I’ll haul your ass out of here in handcuffs. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Nathanial swallowed hard, a paleness sweeping over his skin.
Max clapped a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “We should go.”
Jack shot Nathanial one hard look before walking out the door, leaving him and his unhealthy obsession behind.
Chapter 22
“Explain to me why it’s important the man who worked with Dave has pictures on Facebook of him and some old lady in Queens.” Christine leaned over her shoulder and studied the computer screen like she was waiting for something to jump out at her and tell her what was going on.
“It’s a long story,” Olivia said, not wanting to get into all the details. “But basically, the person who bought my art and left a threat on the vacation rental site both gave bogus information. That information leads to a pizza shop in Queens.”
A spike of pain jabbed against the tender spot at the back of her head. She needed sleep, but since that wasn’t an option, more coffee was the next best thing. She lifted her paper cup and cringed at the cool liquid.
“And that’s connected to this park because...?” Christine left the end of her question hanging and raised her brows.
“Jack thinks false information given is significant. Not a random place just thrown out.” Olivia pushed away her crappy coffee and rubbed at the back of her neck, hoping to relieve some of the tension. The bright lights of the computer screen screamed at her, and she fiddled with the buttons to dim the brightness. “But there has to be something more. Something that really ties him—or whoever used the address—to Queens for it to matter.”
“I agree. Let’s dig around a little. How deep did you go when looking at Mason’s profile last night?”
“We got a little distracted.” Images of last night’s activities clashed inside her head and heated her core.
Christine laughed and dragged the chair around to sit beside her. “Yeah, you did.”
She bumped her friend with her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”
“Fine. Click on that picture of Mason at the park again.”
She did as instructed. Mason smiled his boyish grin with his arm looped around an older woman with gray hair pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. “No one else is tagged, but there are some comments.” She skimmed through them.
“There.” Christine pointed at the screen. “That profile picture looks like the same woman. Click on her and see what pops up.”
She clicked and was surprised when the older woman’s profile took over the screen. “She must not understand how to make her profile private. And look, she lives in Queens.”
“I’d say that’s a big connection depending on how she knows Mason. Look at her About Info where relatives are listed.”
She navigated to the page and skimmed the long list of names, her gaze landing on the name Mason Shaffer: Grandson. Nausea churned in her gut. “I figured that was his grandmother, but knowing it, and that she lives in Queens, gives me a bad feeling. Does that really mean something? Is that enough to condemn a man who has been nothing but nice to me?”
“It’s enough to call and tell your boyfriend,” Christine shot back. “Any little detail could be important.”
Olivia wadded up her empty pastry bag and threw it at Christine. “He’s not my boyfriend. But you’re right. If he has to speak with Mason, the more information he has the better. Do you mind getting me another coffee while I call him?”
“Trying to get rid of me?” Christine pressed her mouth into an exaggerated pout.
She flashed her sweetest smile. “Maybe.”
“Fine, but only because I need to check on my employees and make sure everything’s running smoothly.”
Once Christine left, she found Jack’s contact information in her phone and pressed Send. Her heart pounded as she waited to hear his voice.
“Olivia? Is everything all right?” His urgent tone boomed through the speaker.
“I’m fine. Did you get my text about Mason?” She slid a pencil from a little jar shaped like a cupcake on the desk and rubbed it between her fingers. Anxiety danced in her belly, her throat suddenly dry. Her reaction was beyond ridiculous. She liked Jack, really liked him, and acting like a nervous Nellie was the worst way to show him she was serious about him and a possible future together.
“I did. Good work. Max and I are on our way to speak with him now.” What sounded like wind rumbled and muffled his voice.
Disappointment pressed against her lungs. “What about Nathanial Cuppio?”
Jack sighed. “I don’t like the guy, but he’s not the stalker. He has an alibi for the time you were attacked yesterday. He gave me a receipt, and a quick call to the café he was at confirmed it. I also spoke with his boss. He worked all day yesterday. If I need more information from him about the nights of the murders, I know where to find him. But he’s not our man.”
Dammit. Things would have been so much easier if he was. Now the eye of suspicion shifted back to Mason. “You should know, Christine and I found out that Mason’s grandma, the woman in the photos, lives in Queens.”
A beat of silence pulsed through the phone. “Shit. I did a background check on Mason. He was raised by a single mother. How much you want to bet he spent a lot of time with his grandma? Probably in her home. In Queens.”
She brought her free hand up to her neck and rubbed her collarbone. The implication of what she’d uncovered hiking up her blood pressure. “How could I be so wrong about him? How could I not see it?”
“Sometimes the things right in front of us are the hardest things to see. But don’t jump to conclusions yet. We can’t know for sure until we talk to Mason, and Max just lucked out with a parking spot right outside the guy’s building. Stay with Christine. Don’t go home. I’ll call and fill you in as soon as I can. Even pick you up after...if you want.”
The hesitancy in his voice made her smile and loosened the knots twisting up her insides by a fraction. Christine was right. She wasn’t the only one who was on edge after last night. Now wasn’t the time to have the conversation, but she could at least let him know the direction her heart was leading her. “That’d be nice. We have a lot to talk about. Be safe. I’ll be waiting for you.”
When Christine came back with her fresh coffee, she couldn’t hide her smile. The idea that Mason might be the one behind shattering her world made her heartsick, but knowing Jack would be with her at the end of the day lifted her spirits. She’d push aside all her fears and tell him exactly how she felt.
Her phone dinged in her hand.
Christine set the hot to-go cup in front of her. “He miss you already?”
She laughed and glanced at the text. “It’s not Jack. It’s Edward. He got a check from the insurance company for my artwork that was destroyed and needs me to come by before noon to pick it up.”
“That’s great news.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to go alone, and Jack might be busy for a while. Will you go with me?”
“Sure, just let me tell the manager she’s in charge until I get back.”
