Chapter Twenty
Chapter
Twenty
“You really need to give me your number,” Theo said as she approached Jemma and me the next day. “I’ve got better things to do than spend my time looking high and low for you.”
My bestie and I were seated on the wide rim of the Mirage’s decrepit and empty mermaid fountain, enjoying the few rays of October sunshine reaching us there in the courtyard.
I’d just filled Jemma in on the previous day’s escapades when Theo interrupted our conversation without a shred of contrition.
I could have told her that I had no obligation to report my whereabouts to her, but who was I kidding? It was easier to hand my phone over, so I did.
“We’ve been debriefing,” Jemma told her. “Rosario’s a solid suspect. We need to find a way to serve her up to the police on a platter.”
“I need details,” Theo said as she sent herself a text from my phone.
She handed back the device, and once again, I relayed what I’d learned at the cocktail party and what Wyatt and I had found in Rosario’s apartment.
“He can pick locks?” Theo said, impressed, when I reached that part of the story. “He’s more than just good looks then. He’ll be a great asset for the agency.”
“The fake agency,” I stressed.
“It’s not fake anymore,” Theo countered. “We’ve got a phone number, a website, and you’re investigating. How much more real could it get?”
Jemma shrugged. “She could be getting paid to investigate.”
Theo waved off that detail. “Once we’ve got this pro bono case under our belts, the money will roll in.”
I decided not to shatter her crazy fantasy. She was just a kid, after all.
I continued with my story of searching Rosario’s apartment and finding the dart-pierced portrait of Freddie. As I’d predicted, Theo demanded to see photos, so I passed my phone to her again.
When I got to the part about the snakes, Jemma made a face.
“I can’t stand reptiles.” She gave a dramatic shudder. “I’m so glad I wasn’t with you.”
“Wyatt told me they’re harmless,” I said. “I sure hope he’s right about that.”
“He knows snakes?” Theo said, looking thoughtful. “I’ll add that to his file.”
“He’s got a file?” I asked with surprise.
“So do you.”
What? I did not like the sound of that. “I want to see mine.”
Theo gave an unconcerned, one-shoulder shrug. “It’s confidential.”
“It’s my file and my agency!” I protested.
“Take it up with HR.”
“There is no HR!” I shot back.
Theo gave me a smug smile. “Nope.”
“All right, children,” Jemma broke in. “Let’s focus here.” Her eyes took on a dangerous glint. “So, Em, what else happened while you were alone with Wyatt?”
“Nothing.” I shrugged in what I hoped was a nonchalant way. “We searched the place and got out of there.”
Jemma shook her head with disappointment. “What a wasted opportunity, Em.”
“If you’re so into Wyatt, why don’t you make a move on him?” Even as I grumbled those words, my stomach twisted at the thought.
“I’d never do that to you, hon.”
I didn’t get the chance to argue that she wouldn’t be doing anything to me.
“Besides,” she continued, “I’ve got DeVaughn, and he’s keeping me plenty happy.”
Theo leaned forward with obvious eagerness. “Who’s DeVaughn?”
“He plays for the Jets,” Jemma said, referring to the NFL team.
She brought up a picture of him on her phone.
“Whoa,” Theo said with appreciation when Jemma showed her the photo. “He’s smokin’.”
“Right?” Jemma smiled at the photo before shutting off the screen of her phone. “Now, back to Emersyn,” she said with frightening determination.
“Not back to me,” I countered. “Whatever might be going on with my love life—”
“Or lack thereof,” Jemma said out of the corner of her mouth.
Theo snort-laughed, and my traitorous bestie joined her.
I raised my voice to drown out their snickering. “Isn’t that my own business?”
Jemma patted my knee. “Not when you’re in need of help, hon.”
“I don’t need help!”
“You haven’t been on a single date since you broke up with Hoffman,” Jemma pointed out unnecessarily. “And that was months ago.”
“I’ve got Livy to raise now,” I reminded her. “I need to focus my attention on her, not dating. Besides, I don’t want men cycling in and out of her life.”
Jemma put an arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze.
“And I commend you for that, Em. But raising a kid doesn’t mean you can’t have a love life.
You don’t have to introduce any men to Livy in the early stages.
Plus, if you’re completely fulfilled in all aspects of your life, that will only benefit Livy. ”
“And you’ve got two hotties to choose from,” Theo added. “Bodie’s got a thing for you.”
“No, he doesn’t,” I protested.
Okay, so maybe he’d given me that impression when I made my impromptu visit to his apartment the day before, but I was feeling defensive now that Theo and Jemma were teaming up on me, so I wasn’t about to agree with anything they said.
“He asked the elderlies about you,” Theo said.
“Ooh, do tell,” Jemma prodded, not that Theo needed any encouragement.
And if I were completely honest, I really wanted to know what, exactly, Bodie had asked about.
“He came by to fix a leaky pipe while my grandparents were hosting bridge night,” Theo explained.
Jemma smacked my arm with the back of her hand. “You should ask Bodie to fix your pipe.”
I crossed my arms. “I fixed it myself.”
Nobody needed to know that I’d done so with the aid of a YouTube tutorial, after I nearly flooded the apartment and Wyatt swooped in to save the day.
“Then unfix it so you can ask him,” Jemma suggested.
The door that led into the front section of the building opened, and the blond, broad-shouldered detective I’d seen on two previous occasions stepped out into the courtyard.
He wore a gray suit and carried a tablet in one hand.
He paused for a split second, taking in his surroundings, and then strode over our way.
His presence distracted Jemma and Theo enough that they stopped hassling me about my love life. I’d never been so happy to see a cop.
“Ladies,” the detective said, his piercing blue gaze passing over each of us in turn. He tapped the badge clipped to his belt. “Detective Callahan, NYPD. Do you all live in the building?”
Jemma and Theo pointed at me and said in unison, “She does.”
“With my niece,” I added, and realized that probably didn’t matter to him.
“My grandparents live here,” Theo said.
“And Jemma’s my best friend,” I said, indicating my BFF. Again, I realized that probably wasn’t relevant to the detective, but something about his sharp blue eyes made me want to blurt out all my secrets, not that I had any. Well, not many.
Jemma gave him a little wave and a smile. “Jemma Ghosh. How can we help you, Detective?”
Callahan woke up the tablet and turned the screen our way. “Do you recognize this person?”
The photo on the screen looked like a slightly grainy still from the surveillance camera in the lobby. It had caught a person dressed in jeans and a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up as they walked across the lobby, from the direction of the front doors.
We took a closer look at the screen, all of us shaking our heads.
“No. Sorry,” I said. From their fair-skinned hands, I could tell that the person was white, but that was it.
“Is that the murderer?” Theo asked, a light of excitement in her eyes.
“A person of interest,” the detective replied. “We’re hoping to speak to them to see if they have any information that would aid us in our investigation.” He swiped the tablet’s screen to bring up another photo taken from the surveillance video. “How about this woman? Does she look familiar?”
“That’s me,” I said right away.
Detective Callahan didn’t appear at all surprised, and I suspected he’d figured that out before asking the question.
He shut the tablet’s case. “You found a bouquet of flowers in the trash can.”
I nodded. “Roses.”
“Was there a card attached to the bouquet?”
“No,” I replied. “I took a quick look in the trash can, but I didn’t see one there either.”
The detective produced a business card from the inner pocket of his suit jacket and offered it to me. “If you remember anything related to the case or have any information to share, please get in touch with me.”
I accepted the card. “Of course.”
He gave us a nod and continued on his way across the courtyard, disappearing through the next set of doors.
Jemma snatched the business card from my fingers.
“Detective Thomas Callahan?” she read with obvious disappointment. “I was hoping his name would be Thor.”
“He’s totally a Thor,” Theo agreed.
“Not according to his card,” I pointed out.
“Thor can be his code name,” Theo decided.
“Why does he need a code name?”
Theo didn’t bother answering my question.
Jemma pressed the card into the palm of my hand and curled my fingers around it. “Keep that safe. We’ll come up with some information you can share. Hopefully you can meet with him in person. Privately.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“Why are you trying to set me up with every man under the age of forty?” I asked. “We don’t even know that he’s single.”
“No wedding ring, at least,” Theo said as she retrieved her laptop from the backpack hanging from the handles of her wheelchair.
Jemma gave her a nod of approval. “Always look for the ring.”
I crossed my arms. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “I’m actually perfectly fine without a man in my life.”
Jemma patted my knee. “Of course you are, hon, but a little spice in life is even better. And that cop is super spicy.”
Theo’s fingers flew over the keyboard of her laptop. “Maybe we’ll have better luck identifying the person of interest from the actual video footage.”
“Okay, but how can we get ahold of that?” I worried I might already know the answer. “I’m not breaking into Freddie’s office. Besides, the cops probably took his computer.”
Theo dismissed my concerns without glancing up. “All the footage is on the cloud.”
“Always look on the cloud,” Jemma said with a nod.
“Got it!” Theo turned her laptop so we could see the screen.
The date and time stamp on the footage from the lobby revealed that it was from right around the time of the murder. Sure enough, the person in the black hoodie strode into view carrying a bouquet of roses and disappeared off camera about four seconds later.
“How did you get that?” I demanded.
“Child’s play,” Theo said, offering no further explanation.
Maybe it was best if I didn’t know the details.
The figure walked back into view after about sixty seconds.
Whoever it was, they dumped the bouquet of roses in the lobby’s trash can and jogged out of sight, heading deeper into the building again.
The still Detective Callahan had shown us must have come from a point in the video after the mystery person got rid of the roses.
“The flowers,” I mused, mostly to myself. “Why suddenly dump them and take off like that?”
“The flower bearer didn’t run out of the building,” Jemma said. “So the intended recipient probably didn’t chase them away.”
“Maybe the flowers were for Freddie, but then…what?” My theory fizzled away before it gained any steam. I directed the next question at Theo. “Is there any footage of this person leaving the building later?”
Theo fast-forwarded through the video. I was the next person to appear.
I found the roses, disappeared, and then returned to the lobby without the flowers.
After I left through the front door, an elderly couple who lived on the ground floor entered and took the hall to the right, which led to their unit.
A while later, Agnes entered the building.
Soon after, Wyatt and I ran in through the main door, in response to Agnes’s scream.
“What about the back door?” Jemma asked.
Theo searched on her laptop but then shook her head. “Looks like that camera hasn’t been working for a while.”
“So, there’s no evidence that this mystery person left the building before the murder,” Jemma said.
“Which means they could very well be the killer.” Theo brought the first video clip up on the screen again.
“Could it be Rosario?” Jemma’s question was laced with doubt.
I shook my head. “Not the right build or skin tone.” A sickening lump grew in the pit of my stomach. “Can you play it back again?”
Theo did so.
“Stop it right there,” I said as the person disappeared off camera. “Back a few frames.” When Theo got to the right spot, I said, “There!”
I leaned in closer to the screen, not wanting to believe what I was seeing.
“What is it?” Jemma asked.
Peeking out from the left sleeve of the person’s hoodie was an orange wrist strap, one I recognized as an Apple Watch. That confirmed what I’d already surmised from the individual’s familiar, loping gait.
I sat back, the world tilting around me.
“Em?” Jemma prodded with concern.
“The person of interest?” I said faintly. “It’s Hoffman.”