Chapter Twenty-Five Nic
Chapter Twenty-Five
Nic
Barbara Patterson is dead.
I drag my hands through my hair again and again.
Dead.
Dead, dead, dead.
Two bodies in as many weeks. So much for sleep.
“Are you okay?” Harriet asks for a third time.
We’re sitting at a table in the back hallway, surrounded by club employees. The cops arrived fifteen minutes ago and shepherded us all here with instructions not to leave. The coroner’s office should be here any minute.
The party guests are still in the ballroom. I assume they’ve gotten word about what’s going on, but who knows? With the way the cops treat rich people in this town, it’s possible they’re drinking and eating without a care in the world.
I finally speak. “This is fucked.”
“I know. I don’t understand what happened,” Harriet says. She pushes a hand against her eyes. “I saw her out there. I didn’t have a chance to talk to her. And now—”
“Where is she?” a broken voice calls from the other end of the hallway. Mindy Washington appears, cheeks streaked with mascara.
She spots us.
“Nic!” She runs over, throwing her arms around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder. “I can’t believe this,” she sobs. “I was just talking to her, and now…now…”
A wail of grief. I pat her back, like it’s any comfort at all. There’s nothing I can do here. Nothing that will change this.
She pulls away. “I heard you found her. What happened? Did she… Did someone…”
She’s dancing around the thing we’re all wondering.
Did someone murder Barbara Patterson?
“I don’t know,” I say. “The cops haven’t said.”
As if summoned by my words, Adam Kozel appears, Detective Jones by his side.
Harriet jumps to her feet. “Finally! What’s the word?”
Kozel puts up a hand. “I’m sorry, but I can’t answer anything yet. Everything’s still in progress. In the meantime, I have some questions for you and Nico. If you’ll come with me?”
I climb to my feet and give Mindy an apologetic frown, then follow Kozel and Jones to a quiet spot down the hall.
“To start,” Kozel says, “what were you doing in the fridge? Neither of you are employees of the club.”
Harriet glances at me. “I was looking for seltzer.”
He frowns. “I’m sorry. I’m a little confused here, Harriet. Why were you restocking the bar?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
She heaves a sigh. “My mom was on my back to find some, and the original bartender had disappeared. His replacement was about fifteen years old, totally overwhelmed, so I offered to grab it. I came back here, ran into Nic, and he said it’d be in the fridge.
” She shudders. “That’s when we found her. Lying on the floor.”
“Did you touch anything?” Detective Jones asks. “Move the body?”
Harriet shakes her head. “The only thing I touched was the door.”
“Nico? Anything?” Jones asks.
“The light switch,” I say.
“Well, that explains what Harriet was doing, but—Nico. What about you?” Kozel asks. “According to Mrs. George, you are not an invited guest.”
An alarm goes off in my head.
“He was meeting me—” Harriet says.
I cut her off. I can fight my own battles, thank you very much. I glare at Kozel. The way he’s saying Nico, over and over, is starting to piss me off. It’s what my parents used to call me when they were angry.
“I got here about three minutes before I ran into Harriet. You can ask Alec Sanchez—he let me in the back door. You think in those three minutes, I had time to find Patterson, lure her into the fridge, and kill her?”
Kozel holds up his hands. “Whoa, buddy. Nobody’s accusing you of anything here. Just trying to build a timeline.”
I scowl. I’m not his fucking buddy.
“I would like to ask a few more questions though, Nico. If that’s okay with you?”
I love that he’s trying to make it sound like I have a choice. “Fine.”
“On your way to the fridge, did you see anything strange? Anything that seemed out of place? Anyone acting suspicious?”
“I don’t think so.”
“How about you, Harriet?”
“Not that I remember.”
“Hi, Detectives.” A chef walks up to our little circle. “How much longer are you holding us here do you think? The people are getting restless.”
Kozel looks at his partner. “We need to get everyone’s info before they can leave,” she says. “But we’ll have someone get started on it, okay? Sit tight.”
The detectives turn back to us. “Don’t go anywhere, you understand?” Kozel says, a note of warning in his voice. “We’ll be back shortly.”
Harriet nods.
The detectives move on, leaving us with the chef.
“You’re the ones who found her?” he asks. “What were you doing in the fridge?”
Harriet repeats what we told the cops.
“The bartender went missing?” the chef asks once she’s done. “White guy, mid-twenties, brown hair, about yea high?” He holds a hand by his chin.
Harriet nods.
“Yup. Thought so. That’s Matthew. Knew he shouldn’t have been working today. I told Ella that, but did she listen? Course she didn’t.”
“Why?” Harriet asks.
He huffs. “Because she never listens.”
“No, I mean, why didn’t you think he should work today?”
“Oh. Because of him and Mr. George. Matthew’s been pretty torn up about what happened.”
Harriet glances at me. I know what she’s thinking. Matthew told me he barely knew George.
“They knew each other?” I ask, straightening.
“Oh yeah. They’d chat whenever Mr. George was in here.”
“Has anyone seen Matthew recently?”
“No idea. Lemme ask my manager. Hey, Ella?” the chef calls to a harried-looking woman deep in conversation with a couple employees. “Sorry to interrupt. Real quick—these people are looking for Matthew. You seen him?”
“He took off about a half hour ago.”
The chef turns back with a shrug. “Guess he’s gone. Knew he shouldn’t have worked today.”
“He left,” I repeat. A jolt of adrenaline surges through me. “Right before we found Barbara.”
He lied about knowing George, then took off right after Patterson died, and the cops are standing around doing jack-shit. Implying I did something wrong.
“Do you think—” Harriet says, but I’m already marching over to the detectives. I jam my finger into Kozel’s back.
“Nico, I’m in the middle of something,” Kozel says, not even bothering to turn around. “I’ll be back with you in a bit.”
If he thinks he can blow me off, he has another thing coming. “I need to talk to you. Right now,” I growl.
Harriet’s caught up, and she’s watching our exchange with concern.
Kozel heaves a sigh, finally turning. Irritation is etched across his face. “All right. Can you finish up while I handle this?” he asks Detective Jones. She nods.
I lead him back to where we’d been standing with Harriet trailing after us.
“You need to find Matthew Prado,” I say once we’re alone.
“Matthew Prado?”
“Yeah. He bartends here. Works for my mom sometimes too. He was at Harriet’s birthday party. You need to find him.”
“Why’s that?” Kozel says.
“He disappeared today. Right around when Barbara Patterson died.”
“What do you mean disappeared?”
“I mean, he left in the middle of his shift.”
“Okay? And why is that important?”
“Because! Because he took off! It’s suspicious as hell! Two people have died now, and he was there for both of them.”
Kozel scratches the back of his neck. “Well, so were you. And Harriet. And a lot of other people out in that ballroom. Did Matthew have something particular against Barbara Patterson that you’re aware of? Or George?”
I shake my head. “That’s not—You’re not getting it. Matthew knew George. They talked whenever George came into the club.”
“Okay?” Kozel says with impatience.
“Except Matthew works for my mom, right? And when I asked him about George after the murder, he told me he didn’t know him!”
“He lied,” Harriet adds. “Why would he lie unless he was hiding something?”
“I don’t know.” Kozel’s eyes are fixed on something behind me. I glance over my shoulder and see Sharkey and a couple other cops making their way toward us. “Let me ask you again: Do you have any concrete reason to think Matthew wanted either of them dead?”
“Isn’t figuring that out your job?” I step forward, noting with pleasure I have several inches on him.
“Nic,” Harriet whispers. Her fingertips graze my arm.
“It’s possible Matthew just didn’t feel up to sharing his emotions with you, his employer. Or perhaps he simply didn’t want to get involved.” He pats me on the arm. “I have to get going but appreciate you coming to me with this. We’ll keep it in mind.”
Translation: They’ll do jack-shit.
“You need to find him! You need to stop sitting around with your thumbs up your—”
Kozel’s jaw clenches. “Nic, this is not a good idea,” he says in a low voice. “Trust me. You need to back off.”
“Ha! Trust you? What a fucking joke. I’m supposed to trust you after you let my sister take the fall—”
“Nic.” Harriet’s tugging on my arm. “Nic, don’t.”
I can tell I’ve pushed things too far, but I’m too angry to care.
“I’m going to take him home, okay?” Harriet says to Kozel. “It’s been a long week. He needs a break. You know he didn’t mean any of that.”
Kozel waves a hand in my direction. “Fine. Get him out of here. We’ll be in touch.”