A Good Man Gone (Mercy Watts Mysteries) (29 page)

“I guess we call the client.”

“We have a client?”

“We have Gavin’s client. Doreen Sendack.”

I called the Crab Shack and waited, listening to at least five waitresses yelling orders in the background as the owner went on about Doreen’s awesomeness. She worked every shift, and I felt a warm fuzzy come over me as I prepared to give her the news.

“Yeah, what?” Doreen asked.

Not exactly what I was expecting.

“Doreen, this is Mercy Watts. We spoke the other day about your ex.”

“Yeah. What is it now?” Doreen barked orders at someone named Fred. The background noise was deafening and I didn’t have her interest much less her attention.

“I found him,” I said loudly. Screams erupted in the kitchen and they weren’t screams of joy. Somebody yelled for an extinguisher. I’d picked a bad time. It was a talent of mine that usually worked out for me.

“What’d you say?” asked Doreen.

“I found Bart.”

Doreen yelled for everyone to shut up and then said, “You sure?”

“I’m sure. Want the details?”

“Yeah, yeah I do.” She sounded misty and overwhelmed. That’s the stuff I was looking for.

“He’s living with a girl named Bitsy Meyer at 3351F North Fredericksburg Road in Lincoln. They just moved in.”

“Does it have a pool?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Bart needs a pool. Thinks it shows he’s classy,” she said.

“This isn’t a classy pool.”

Doreen laughed and I pictured her standing in the greasy Crab Shack kitchen smiling and looking a little less tired.

“Bart never had a clue about real class,” said Doreen. “What do we do now?”

“Call the cops and have him arrested,” I said.

“Can you do that? I want my name off of it cause of my boys.”

“I’ll take care of it and call you when he’s in custody.”

“Thanks, Mercy. I never expected you to do anything. Nobody else ever did,” Doreen said.

“Nice surprise, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.”

We hung up, and I basked in the warmth of my own goodness for a few minutes until Aaron started asking about dinner. We had a deal and it was time for me to pay up. If I’d known what restaurant Aaron had in mind, I’d have had second thoughts about the whole thing. We picked up burgers and fries from some dive with the worst location I’d ever seen under a biker bar named Bloodsucker. The clientele looked like the cast from
The Walking Dead
, except not as clean or friendly. The burgers were delicious, so good I was afraid to think what might be in them. Aaron said he found something suspicious in his. I quick took a painkiller before he could tell me what it might be and fell asleep with a fry dangling out of my mouth.

Chapter Twenty-Four

THE NEXT MORNING, Aaron woke me at seven with more takeout. We ate buttermilk pancakes and home fries while I mentally flogged myself for forgetting to report Bart. Then I remembered. Who would I report him to?

I called home and Dixie answered the phone. I tripped over my own tongue until Mom got on the line.

“Hi Mom,” I said with relief.

“How’s your wrist, honey?”

“Achy, but better. Does Dad know about the whole Marilyn internet thing?”

Mom’s voice got hard. “No, he does not, and you aren’t going to tell him.”

“No worries there.” I’d rather chew off my foot than tell Dad what I’d done.

“Are you calling to tell me that you’ve fixed this situation?”

“Not quite. I need to know if Dad has any contacts in Lincoln,” I said.

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Mom.”

“Fine. I’ll get him.”

After a couple of minutes, Dad came on the line with a round of coughing that sounded like someone was plunging a toilet.

“Jesus, Dad. Have you called Pete?”

“As a matter of fact, he was here this morning and I’m good,” he said, between coughs.

“Right. You know I can call him.”

“He says I need a chest x-ray.”

“So when are you going in?” I asked.

“Right after you solve the Lindbergh kidnapping.”

“I’ll get right on that. Go in, Dad.”

“Yeah, yeah. How’s Lincoln?”

“I broke my wrist. Other than that I think we got a good line on Gavin.”

“You need to be more careful.” Dad went into another fit of coughing that covered the sarcastic noises I made at that advice. Dad never got sick, but he got hurt on a regular basis. He’d had everything from broken bones to a light coma in the eighties.

“Do you know anybody in Lincoln?” I asked.

“No, why?”

“I need a guy arrested,” I said.

“Did he do anything?”

“Of course. He’s the deadbeat dad. I found him.” I waited for congratulations. None were forthcoming.

“Call the local precinct,” he said.

“Yeah. I was going to, but then I realized they wouldn’t exactly rush on over to grab him up, would they?”

“No, probably not. Let me see what I can do. I’ll call you back.”

I took a nap and an hour later Dad called back with more than what I needed. He gave me a number of a retired cop with a kid on the force in Lincoln. Better than that, Dad told me Bart had been busy. He had several outstanding warrants in Nebraska. I called Dad’s contact, who arranged for me to meet his kid at a coffee shop in an hour. An hour wasn’t enough time to make me presentable in a way that might help, but I did the best I could. A nice scoop-neck tee and low-rise jeans would have to be enough.

I opened the door and Nardo leaned on the balcony railing, grinning and chewing on a toothpick.

“Where’re we going?” he asked.

“Straight to hell,” I said. “You first.”

“That’s not very original. I’d expect better from you.”

“Bite me.” I walked past him with Aaron trailing behind me, humming the
Star Trek
theme song.

“Come on. We can work together,” said Nardo.

“No. We really can’t. We’re not the same species.”

“Listen to this. I know I’m scum and you’re an artist or whatever, but this relationship can benefit us both.”

“There’s no relationship, unless you count harassment and disgust,” I said.

“It is a relationship, whether you like it or not.” Nardo ran in front of me and blocked the stairs. “I’m the talent. You’re the face. We’ll make millions.”

“Get out of my way.” I forced my way past him and nearly pushed him down the stairs. I jogged to the car, ignoring the honks from the road.

Nardo yelled out behind me. “If you won’t work with me, maybe your mom will.”

I got in the car, closed my eyes, and swallowed. I wouldn’t think about it. It was too horrible to be contemplated.

Nardo pounded on my window and yelled through the glass. “My partner says the camera loves her.”

“Leave my mother alone,” I yelled back.

“Yep, she looks great, as good as you, and he has all the time in the world.”

Aaron got in the passenger side and I rolled down the window an inch. “Call him off.”

“Then we’ll talk,” said Nardo.

“Fine, just get away from me,” I said.

Nardo stepped back, saluted me, and smiled.

I looked at Aaron and asked, “Well?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to say something?”

“About what?”

“Never mind,” I said.

Aaron drove us to the coffee shop, whining about his need for a snack. I shut him up with a promise of carrot cake and fluffed my hair. As it turned out, I needn’t have bothered. Nic Serena didn’t need convincing. She sat down across from me without introduction or hesitation. She was a surprise and an interesting one. Nic Serena had to get as many second and third looks as I did, although we couldn’t have been more different. She had dark blond hair that looked natural, café au lait skin, a broad nose, wide shapely lips, almond-shaped eyes, and a body that looked like a bag of hangers. She was all angles and edges with cheekbones that could’ve sliced meat.

“Mercy Watts. Nic Serena. Why am I here?”

“To do me a favor, I hope,” I said.

“You need somebody arrested?”

“Yeah, a deadbeat dad with some warrants for check kiting and larceny.”

“Sounds like a minor character. What’s the deal?”

“I don’t know what you’ve been told, but a family friend was murdered last week.”

“So?”

“I think he found something out accidentally about an old client while he was here. He started calling her while he drove back and she was murdered right after he got through and then he was. I need to know whether Sendack saw Gavin and what happened.”

“Any connection between the dead client and Sendack?”

“Not that I know of,” I said as I pulled on a sweater. I felt obvious and stupid in my scoop neck next to Serena in her sleek black suit. I guessed she didn’t use sex to get answers. She probably scared guys into talking. She scared me.

“You don’t know if he located Sendack?”

“Gavin’s notes are missing along with the client’s file, but he probably did. I did,” I said.

“Not difficult?”

“Just legwork. So what do you say?”

“I’ll pick him up and do the questioning,” she said.

“Why can’t I talk to him?”

“Because I’m a cop and you’re not. There’s nothing you can get out of him that I can’t.” She looked at me waiting for further protests. I couldn’t think of any, but I felt slighted just the same. I’d gotten plenty of guys to say plenty of stuff.

“So how about giving me that address and Sendack’s particulars?” asked Serena.

I gave her everything I had on Bart and she left promising to call when she had him. As she walked out, heads turned and I was quickly aware that we’d been watched for our whole conversation. I’d been so busy looking at Serena I hadn’t noticed being noticed. It was a new sensation and it felt good to have been anonymous, even if it was in my own mind.

 
I spent the early afternoon on my rock-hard motel bed with a pillow over my head. Aaron waxed on about Dungeons and Dragons strategy, oblivious to the pillow and my occasional snoring. The painkillers were doing a number on me even though I was down to a half dose. Serena hadn’t called back yet and I started to question whether she would. The less I had to do, the more I thought about Gavin and Dixie. My wrist hurt more than I would admit, and I wanted to be home in the cocoon of The Oasis with my mother making it all better.

Serena called at three and asked me to come down. Nardo followed us to the station at a discreet distance, but didn’t come inside thankfully. Aaron dumped me at Serena’s desk and disappeared.

“Where’d your little guy go?” Serena asked when she showed fifteen minutes later.

“I’m afraid to know.”

“What’s the deal with him?”

“Family friend and my dad thought I needed help,” I said.

“He’s helping you?”

“He’s driving.”

“That’s something,” she said.

“It’s the only thing. You pick up Sendack?”

“He’s in a room with my partner. Nice guy.”

“I bet. Did Gavin find him?”

“Not that he knows of. Tell me more about the client that got murdered.”

“Rebecca Sample, graduated from UNL and worked for an internet marketing company in St. Louis. She was strangled during her wedding reception, not long after she talked to Gavin. A stalker pestered her for a couple years, but quit when she met her fiancé. The stalker’s the prime suspect, but the cops are weeding through the guest list, too.”

“Any decent physical evidence?”

“Some, but I don’t know what it shows,” I said.

“What did your friend die of?”

“Heart attack brought on by an injection.”

“No idea what the substance was?” she asked.

“Labs aren’t back yet,” I said.

“Will you know when they are?”

“Why?”

“Just curious why you know so much about an open and actively pursued investigation run by your cousin.”

“You didn’t call him, did you?”
”No. Should I?”

“Why are you asking me about him then?” I rubbed my arm above the cast and thought about
my next painkiller.

Serena drummed her fingers on the desk. “You shouldn’t be involved in this at all and Chuck Watts is heading this way.”

“Great. Just what I needed and I’m not involved. I’m nosy.”

“Well, you’ve got a great nose because from what I can tell you’re a couple of days ahead of your cousin,” she said.

“He’s been busy. Triple homicide or something. Is this all you wanted me in here for?”

“No. I need a picture of Mr. Flouder.” She looked at the picture I handed her. “Is this recent?”

“It’s around a year old. He lost a lot of weight and some hair before he died, but he looked basically the same.”