The Past, page 6
The dark-haired ones always caught my attention. This prostitute was beautiful. She barely covered her body with her tight black shorts and midriff tank top. The heels stood at least four inches high. She looked exactly like what she was, but I didn’t care. The way her hips weaved back and forth as she walked reminded me of the image from the night before, the identity of the mystery lady, and the memory I glimpsed for a second.
I needed more insight into my recollection. Somewhere in my brain lurked the answer. Why was the brunette in my vision so important? I took my last drag on the stub and felt the heat between my fingers. I watched her ply her trade and promised myself I wouldn’t hurt this whore. The smoke calmed me a little. I put my cigarette out, started the engine of my truck, and drove to her corner.
She flashed me a seductive smile when she walked up to my window.
“Need a lift?” My eyes contained a knowing expression of their own as I flirted with her.
“If the price is right.”
“It might be.”
She gave me a figure and hoisted herself up into the cab of the pickup. I nodded agreement to the amount.
I glanced at her again. The smoldering intensity her eyes revealed and the redness of her lips teased the image hidden in my memory, but it dangled just out of my mind’s reach. This hooker resembled the woman in my mental flashes more than the one last night. I needed to get her to move again. I felt the answer would come, if she would pace for me in her sultry way.
I pulled into a park away from the streetlights. She could stroll farther with the extra space. The room had been too small for Hilda to move properly. This would work. I felt it.
“Okay, Honey Bun, I need you to walk for me like you did on the corner. It’s what a man needs to get his juices going.” I lied to her. I wasn’t interested in what she sold. Only the images and the secrets that remained hidden.
“How did you know my name?” She stared up at me with the first hint of fear in her eyes.
“I didn’t know your name. You smell sweet like a honey bun.” I grinned and got out of the car to open her door.
6
Paige stretched both calves several times, bent at the waist, and touched the ground flat handed. Both leg muscles pulled tight. When her head came up, Josh stood right beside her. He threw a small towel at her and put another around his neck.
“I figured I’d find you here. The morning’s perfect for a run.”
She didn’t answer him and took off toward the Pacific, which waited for them at the bottom of the mountainside. She could see the gulls fly above the surf, searching for breakfast. They ran closer to the beach, and the bird’s cries screeched louder.
“Have you figured out our plans for the day?”
She continued to ignore him, trying to hold on to the unspoiled atmosphere of the scene surrounding her.
“Are we no longer on speaking terms?” he asked, intruding into her solitude for the third time.
“I’m working to maintain a peaceful start to my day. I never invited you along. If you don’t enjoy the quiet, please take another route.” She increased her speed and pulled slightly ahead of him.
“I see you’re in a good mood.” Josh brought himself up even with her.
“Actually, this is my good mood. Sorry you don’t find it charming enough.” She tried to focus on the mystery. Who died on Ben’s patio? Why would someone want the victim dead? Most important, why was Ben so reluctant to identify the man?
When she ran, she liked to let her mind ponder the events on her current case. She worked best that way. She’d solved several cases after she mulled over the facts and listened to the rhythm of her own jogging. The evidence seemed to fall into place after she perspired and her feet slapped the ground ahead.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. You never invited me along. Do you want alone time?”
“I’ve already lost my train of thought. You might as well stay. Sometimes I get my best inspiration during a run, but Sonya talks incessantly. She’s my running partner. What’s on your mind?” She turned her head in his direction.
“I’m not sure. You’re different from what I expected, and Caroline’s like no other religious person I know. Not that I know that many evangelists. Who’s Sonya?”
“Sonya’s a kid I mentor back home. I caught her smoking pot, so I make her run with me. Caroline’s different than I expected, too, but I like her. I trust her. Those two don’t always come in the same package.”
“I know what you mean.”
Their conversation lagged for several moments.
“So what’s bothering you? If you don’t beat around the bush, we’ll get there much sooner.” She glanced in his direction. They turned right and moved north along the highway.
“Do you have any idea why Ben’s so hesitant to tell us the guy’s name?” Josh asked.
“I’m working on it. Obviously, he knows him. I figure it’s somebody he probably would want dead. The motive must be strong. How much do you know about his past?”
“Not much. Tony, Ben, and I cemented our friendship over the years. We worked on several movies together years ago. Our bond has strengthened since we first met. We don’t talk about our pasts much. I figured if they wanted me to know, they would tell me. Ben never mentions his at all. Tony rarely does. We only found out he had an old-maid aunt during filming on Liberty Valance.”
“So what do you all talk about?”
“Mostly drink beer, joke about our lives, girls, and things that don’t matter.”
“I see.” She hesitated for a time and considered how he referred to women, but decided the information she needed led in another direction. “Why do you suppose that’s true? Ben is a good friend. You told me he is. Why don’t you know more about him than his favorite drink and how many women he’s scored with?” She watched his expression turn thoughtful because she’d forced him to see something he’d never examined before.
“I’m not sure how to explain it. Our friendship exists because we know we can trust each other not to ask the wrong questions. I think we each have areas we never discuss. We know we don’t need to. We accept each other without every detail. I don’t need to know Ben’s secrets to know he didn’t kill the man. I know he didn’t.” Josh’s certainty would persuade most people, but she didn’t convince that easily.
“Unfortunately, your opinion won’t hold up in court, but I’ll keep it in mind. However, I’ll also bear in mind you wouldn’t be surprised if he had something shady in his background.”
“Now, you’re putting words in my mouth. I didn’t say shady.”
“No, you didn’t, but you know there’s a gray area there somewhere.”
Josh ran in a half circle and reversed their direction. “What do you want for breakfast when we get home?”
She allowed him to change the subject and followed him while they increased their pace toward his residence. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it. We need to go check with the lawyer. See what angles he wants more information about. I want to check my laptop. Bill might have my crime scene photos ready, and we need to let Caroline work her magic on Ben. He’ll talk to her sooner or later.”
“You know what I don’t understand?”
She shook her head and ran toward the road up the mountain.
“How can a TV evangelist look so damned good?”
“Beats me, but she’s my friend. Keep your testosterone to yourself.”
He laughed aloud for several seconds. “You needn’t worry. I’ll consider her off limits.”
She turned on him and stopped. “I’m serious. She’s my friend. Put a lock on your zipper. I won’t let you hurt her over this. She’s doing you a favor.”
“You think I’d leave her with a broken heart.”
“I’m not taking any chances. Caroline’s an evangelist. It doesn’t mean she’s a pushover. Besides, you flirt with every female in sight.”
“So you did notice I flirted with you.”
“You’re about as subtle as the Hollywood sign. I’ll race you home.” She knew the challenge was a mistake the minute they turned the corner onto the mountain road. He left her behind. She would smile if it didn’t hurt so bad to run up the elevated grade of the mountain.
After she reached the gate to his property, he held a sports drink out for her. She took the cold bottle and walked past him without saying a word.
“You’re not a poor loser are you?”
“Not at all, but I hear a shower calling my name.”
When she got to her room, she reached into her pocket to empty the contents. The phone vibrated in her hand before it started playing Bill’s ringtone.
“I’ve got your crime scene photos.”
“Hello to you too, Bill. Are they on my laptop, yet?”
“I sent them a minute ago. Is it sunny in LA? The snow’s deeper here than I’ve ever seen it.”
“I just got back from running several miles. The fresh air felt great.” She put the phone between her ear and her shoulder.
“We’ve set record lows over the northeast part of the state. I think I hate you right now.”
“Are you still snowed in?”
“Yes, and the snack food machines don’t tempt me anymore. What I wouldn’t give for a hot cooked meal, not to mention a shower.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m heading for one right now. Believe me, I need it. Have you talked to Hank? Is he okay in this weather? ” She sat down on the bed and took her left shoe off.
“He called my cell this morning. Claimed he was fine.”
“Thanks for the pictures. I know I asked a lot.” She wiped the sweat on her brow with the shirt she’d taken off.
“I had nothing else to do. The night crept by. They’ll probably get a few roads open today. I might get out later.”
“I hope so. I’ll talk at you in a bit.”
She went straight to her laptop, turned it on, and waited to enter her password. Then she hustled to the bathroom to rinse off while the computer uploaded.
The shower didn’t take long. She could hardly wait to see the gift Bill sent her. Crime scene photos were her favorite. She studied them growing up. If their techs knew how to do their job, she should unscramble a few of the theories that remained tangled in her brain. She dried with Josh’s plush towel and heard her phone ring again.
She glanced at the caller ID and snatched up the phone. “Why aren’t you in school?”
“There’s snow up to my elbows. No school,” Sonya said.
“Sorry. I forgot. My mind was on other business. So what’s up?”
“You’re not back, and I’m bored. The snow is so deep outside, it’s like we’re prisoners. Haven’t you solved the case, yet?”
“No. You called to pester me. I can’t get any work done. Are you and your mother okay with the storm and all?”
“Yeah. She got food in before the weather hit. We’re lucky. We still have electricity. Part of Tulsa lost power. So, what’s Josh Stuart really like?”
“I guess he’s okay. I’m still a little pissed. He went over my head to get me out here, but he’s treated me all right since I arrived.”
“Did he get you in trouble? He might be worth it. He’s hot.”
“Not trouble. How did we digress to this subject? I’ve got to go. I’ll never come home if I stay on the phone with you all day.”
“I know, but I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, even if you’re a mess most of the time. I’ll see you when I get back.”
She laid the phone down on the bed and walked over to the computer that sat on the dresser. Several strokes later on the keyboard, the photographs she needed appeared on the screen.
“Gotcha.” She grinned.
A knock on the door made her frown. She grabbed the towel from the floor and wrapped it around her. Shit. Would people never leave her alone this morning? She opened the door a crack and saw Josh on the other side.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“I’ve been interrupted so many times, I’m not. Do you own a good color printer? I want to print photos from my laptop.”
“Yeah. I have one in my study we can use.”
“Give me five minutes. I gotta put clothes on. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” She closed the door, dropped the towel, and hunted for something quick to put on. Jeans and a red V-necked T-shirt would do.
A few minutes later, she arrived to see Caroline sipping coffee and Josh munching on a granola bar. They sat around the breakfast table and looked comfortable. The glow from the morning sun came through the bay window and washed over them. The scene resembled a Norman Rockwell done in a California style. She broke the golden spell that rested on them.
“I need the printer.” She held up the flash drive that now contained the crime scene pictures.
Josh got up and motioned for her to follow. They moved through the main part of the house and up the stairs. His massive bedroom had a private study attached. The office contained a desktop computer set up with a three-in-one.
He plugged the thumb drive into the USB port and turned the computer on. She waited for a few seconds while he typed in his password. The computer hummed, and he turned back around.
“Did you get a chance to go through them?”
“Barely a glance. I can tell more once I get them to Ben’s and compare them to the scene itself. The body’s a mess. No way to tell who the victim is, unless the fingerprints come back with a match.”
“Won’t the police have run them by now?”
“I’m sure they did. That’s why we need to get Ben to talk. We need to stay ahead of the police, not behind them. They may already know. States require prints when you get a driver’s license. It’s only a matter of time.” She gathered the considerable stack of eight-by-tens, and they walked back to the kitchen.
“What do you want to eat this morning?”
“Let me grab a granola bar and a Pepsi, but I’m okay if you don’t have either.”
“We’ve got to work on your eating habits. They’re horrible.” He tossed her a can of Pepsi and she grabbed a nutty oatmeal bar and moved toward the garage.
“Thanks for inviting me.” Caroline got up from her chair, emptied her cup in the sink, and placed it in the dishwasher.
When she saw Caroline following behind them, she changed her direction to the black Escalade. They climbed inside, and she turned to Caroline in the back seat. “Do you want to go by and see if Ben will talk to you? We need the victim’s identity ASAP.”
“I’ll give it another shot, but I can’t promise anything.”
“What Josh and I are going to do won’t be a picnic. After this long, it’ll stink. You’re better off with him.” She turned back around and settled into the quiet that filled the SUV.
After they left Caroline at the jail, they drove back to Ben’s home in Malibu. Josh used his key to let them in. The house smelled stale and felt stuffy like so many crime scenes left empty too long. She strolled through the house and examined it thoroughly. Something felt off. She was certain she’d been careful not to move anything when she took samples the day before.
When they got to the place where Ben discovered the body, she sorted through the photos until she found the one she wanted. The victim was a mess. He wasn’t just dead. Someone bludgeoned him repeatedly after his last breath.
Josh interrupted her contemplation. “What is it? What did you find?”
“I’m studying the pictures. You need to search them. Concentrate on what fits and what doesn’t. You can tell a lot from the victim for example. The murder was rage induced. So much anger means this was personal. The killer knew him well.”
“You think that’s why Ben won’t tell who the person is, don’t you?”
“It could explain the reason, but jumping to conclusions doesn’t always pan out. I need to know for sure. So do the police.”
She pulled several more photographs from the stack and moved around the room. First one and then another, she compared them to the scene before her. Fifteen minutes passed before either spoke again.
“I didn’t want to say anything, but I’m sure someone has been in here since we were here last. Several objects aren’t in the same place. You were careful the day we took samples, weren’t you?”
“I only touched what you told me to. Why?”
“I noticed the drawer in the other room wasn’t pushed in all the way. I’m sure the front was closed tight after we came here before. This photo confirms what I remembered. Go see for yourself. Someone moved the patio chair. See how the rust print around the bottom is off a little? In the picture, it’s perfectly in place. I’m sure it was in place when we visited yesterday. Someone was careful, but not careful enough. It’s been searched.”
“Why would anyone want to go through the place? What would be the point?”
“Exactly my thought. I’m not sure. I don’t have a theory, yet.”
Ben paced his new cell. They’d moved him overnight. He wanted to know what the detective and Josh discovered. Had they made any progress? He pushed his hand through his hair for the twentieth time, stopped, and threw himself on his bunk. His feet hung over the edge. The damned bed was too small. The cell was too small. His life was too small. How the hell would he ever get out of here?
Jerry Taylor walked up and tapped on his bars. Since he was a celebrity, the same guard moved with him to this horrible hole. That surprised him, but the deputy acted like a standup guy.
“You got a visitor. It’s the redhead, again.”
The news distracted him from his morbid reflections. He got up off the bunk and put on his winning façade. A few minutes later, he faced her, separated by a thick layer of glass.
He expected his smile would surely disarm her like it did countless other women, but her expression gave no sign she was captivated.
“Have you decided to participate in your own defense?” she asked.
He stopped all pretense and stared at her.
“I won’t beg you. If you decide to help yourself, it’ll be your choice.”
