Little Shop of Homicide (25 page)

“My
friend
, whom you will address in a respectful manner, should you be honored enough to meet her, is in the bathroom.” Jake’s voice dropped to a dangerous growl. “And don’t ever stick a finger in my face again.”

“Sure. Okay, man. No need to get all Dirty Harry on my ass.” Leon backed away until he was beyond Jake’s reach. “Are we cool?”

“We’re cool.”

“So, what you want from me?”

“Did you see the crime scene before it was cleaned up?”

“Not the body, but the mess that was left behind.” Leon puffed his chest out and led the way to the bed. “It all happened right here.”

“Show me,” Jake ordered, glad Devereaux didn’t have to hear the gory details. She put up a strong front, but she hadn’t had to face the horrors of violent death as he had during the past ten years.

“See these scratches?” Leon pointed out four burnished-chrome rods, one at either end of the headboard and one at either end of the footboard. “This is where the handcuffs were attached. The cops cut them off her.”

“Was there anything else?” Jake looked around the stark space, wondering how the perp had gotten in. Had he been hiding? The only places he could have concealed himself were the bathroom and the closet.

“No blood or nothing anywhere but the mattress,” Leon said, shaking his head, “but the cops got that fingerprint powder shit all over the place.”

“I heard the door was ajar and that’s how the room service waiter was able to get in.” Jake waited for Jones’s nod before continuing, “Any idea how someone could gain access if the door was locked?”

“There’s no way, man.” Leon hooked his fingers in the loops of the gray work pants that barely clung to his skinny hips. “Unless the dude was Spider-Man and climbed seventeen floors up the outside of the building, he needed a key.”

Jake knew that according to the hotel’s electronic records, the last key card to open the suite’s door was one of the pair given to Joelle when she checked in. Since she had one and Underwood had the other, unless someone had figured out a way to make a duplicate key card’s electronic signature look like it belonged to the victim, Noah Underwood was involved in the murder of his fiancée.

“Did any of the staff report a missing key card?” Jake asked. If someone had borrowed a card, changed the electronic signature, and returned it, the altered signature would have been noticed.

“Nope.” Leon’s bony shoulders moved uncomfortably beneath his gray work shirt. “And believe you me, the cops made every damn one of us produce ours to be checked. We were all fingerprinted, too. They claimed it was to eliminate us as suspects, but I think they just wanted to hassle us.”

Jake rubbed the bridge of his nose. “How about the garage? When I registered, the guy took the parking ticket. He said that all my parking info would be transferred to my key card and I could use it to get in and out of the garage. I assume there will be a record of the time I parked and how long I stay there.”

“Sure. The hotel insists that you put your parking on your tab,” Leon confirmed. “Only guests are allowed to use the garage.”

“Can you get me a list of all the cars parked in the garage last Saturday?” Jake figured the police had seen it, but maybe they had missed something, especially considering Woods’s determination to convict Devereaux. “And any other hotel security records for that night.”

“Probably, but I’ll have to wait until the night manager
takes his supper break.” Leon edged toward the door. “And I don’t know when that will be. Anything else? ’Cause I got to get going.”

“No.” Jake smiled to himself. Maybe he and Devereaux could pick up where they had left off. “Slip those copies under the door when you get them.”

“Sure.” Leon bounced on the balls of his feet. “But it may be a while.”

“No problem. Just don’t forget.” Jake held out his hand, a fifty folded in the palm. “Thanks for your help. I’ll leave another thank-you at the desk for you when you get me the lists.”

“Always a pleasure doing business with the Marshals. Unlike the Feebs, you guys pay up front.” Leon grinned, showing a gold front tooth. “Too bad the cameras on this hall were jacked up that night.”

Jake was immediately alert. “What happened?” Malfunctioning cameras were too big a coincidence to be just a fluke. “Was it just this floor?”

“Yeah. A breaker tripped, and since the cameras are the only things on that particular circuit, and the hotel management is too cheap to have redundant circuits or a backup battery, no one noticed until the cops asked to see the tapes.”

“Okay. I’ll need to see the layout of those circuit breakers.”

“And how am I going to explain that if someone sees us?” Leon demanded.

“Tell them I’m your parole officer,” Jake suggested. “I’m checking up on your work situation. Making sure you’re doing a good job.”

“Hell, no!” Leon crossed his skinny arms. “I ain’t on parole and I’m not pretending to be. I done my time. I’m a free man.”

“Fine.” Jake snuck a peek at the closed bathroom door. If he could hurry this guy along, he still might have a chance to continue what he had started with Devereaux. “If anyone asks, I’m the fire marshal.”

“Yeah.” Leon’s mouth moved from side to side. “That might work.”

Before they left, Jake knocked on the bathroom door and explained where he was going. Devereaux’s muffled response was not reassuring.

As Leon led him into the bowels of the building, Jake thought about Devereaux. What was it about her that rocked his world? Was it because she made him feel alive and energized? With her he felt the way he had when he first became a U.S. Marshal: as if the world was a good place where anything was possible.

When they were together, he found it hard to keep from touching her, even in public. He wanted to hold her hand, stroke her cheek, and press her warm curves against his side. He made a face. When was the last time he had felt that way about a woman? Had he ever?

The feelings Devereaux brought out in him were dangerous. Jake loved being a deputy U.S. Marshal, and he had every intention of resuming his job. It was important that she understand that before they went any further. He couldn’t let anyone change his mind. Not even someone as beautiful and sexy as Devereaux.

Absentmindedly, Jake put his hand into his pocket and froze. When had he stuck Devereaux’s bra in there? His fingers caressed the silky material. Was it his imagination or was it still warm from her body? He groaned and shook his head. It was time to get his mind back on the business of finding the murderer.

When the service elevator doors opened at the subbasement level, Leon stuck his head out, looked both ways, then gestured for Jake to follow him. The gray linoleum floors of the well-lit corridor were worn but clean, and the cinder-block walls had helpful arrows directing them to various operations. It would be fairly easy for someone to find their way around, and if that person wore gray work clothes, they’d fit right in and no one would notice them.

A few feet down the hallway, Leon flung open a door
and pointed to a vast display of circuit breakers, all neatly labeled. Jake frowned. It sure wouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to figure out how to disable a particular floor’s security cameras.

“Did the cops dust the breaker for prints?” Jake asked. He couldn’t remember from the report Meg had sent him.

“Yeah. They didn’t find anything but smudges.” Leon peered uneasily over his shoulder. “Man, we got to get out of here before someone catches us. The more I think about it, the less you look like a fire marshal.”

“Sure. I guess there’s nothing else here to see.” Jake allowed himself to be herded toward the elevator, but stopped Leon from punching the seventeenth-floor button. “How about checking on our way back to see if the night manager’s on his supper break?”

“Yeah. Why not get it over with?” Leon poked the LOBBY button. “Pretend to be yelling at me about your toilet and demanding to talk to the manager when we walk past the front desk.”

Jake did as Leon asked, and they waltzed past the reception area with no one the wiser. Their luck held—the manager’s office was both unlocked and empty. The garage and security records were easy to find on the computer and Jake printed out a copy while Leon kept watch.

They were in and out in less than ten minutes, and when they parted company, Leon was clutching another fifty-dollar bill. As Jake rode the elevator to the seventeenth floor, he was whistling. Not only did he have all of the hotel’s security information for the night of the murder, but he also had a plan for the rest of this evening.

He was going to make sure Devereaux understood that it was only fun and games between them, and that he’d be leaving Shadow Bend as soon as he got the go-ahead to return to work. Then, once she was clear on that matter, they would get to know one another on a whole new level.

Anticipation warming his blood, Jake inserted his key card and flung open the door.

I
was curled up on one of the chairs trying to read
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies
, a novel that Hannah had insisted on loaning me, when Jake walked into the suite. The cooling-off time I had spent in the bathroom had made me realize that no matter how much I desired him, it really wasn’t a good idea to sleep with Jake Del Vecchio.

Maybe if he ended up staying in Shadow Bend to run the Del Vecchio ranch, and I was able to clear myself of the murder charge dangling over my head, we could explore the possibilities. But despite the ongoing drought in my love life, I was looking for something more than just a casual fling with a hot guy.

As Jake took a seat on the couch, I was determined to get our relationship back to the business of clearing my name, so I asked, “Did you find anything helpful?”

“Nothing to do with the surveillance camera’s circuit breakers—a six-year-old could figure out how to disable them—but I did get the hotel security information we need.”

“Great.” I kept my gaze on the pages of my book. “Then, since there’s nothing more we can do here, I think our best course of action is to return to Shadow Bend. It would be a mistake for us to… uh…”

“Have sex?”

“Yes.” I licked my lips. “I’m a suspect in a murder investigation and you’re just passing a little time until your injury heals. If those circumstances change…” I trailed off again.

“Right.” He nodded. “I understand.”

Apparently, he’d had time to think our situation over, too, which was strangely disappointing.

I leapt to my feet, grabbed my tote bag, and looked at him. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” Jake got up. “But why don’t we have supper before we hit the road? We can look over the garage parking lists and make sure there’s nothing more I need to ask Leon.”

I agreed, telling myself that since we were both hungry and dinner was business, not pleasure, there was no harm.

We ate in the hotel restaurant, and despite all the ups and downs Jake and I had been through that day, the meal was enjoyable. At least until we got down to the case.

Joelle’s time of death had been established using the minute after her call to room service at six p.m. as the earliest point she could have been killed and the minute before the arrival of the waiter with her order at seven p.m. as the last moment the murderer could have struck. With this criterion in mind, we skimmed the list looking for cars parked in the hotel garage during that crucial hour.

“Look.” I pointed to two familiar names.

“Interesting.” Jake’s brows rose. “So Mayor Eggers and Dr. Underwood both lied to us.”

“So it would seem.” I exhaled. “His Honor claimed he never left Shadow Bend last Saturday, and Noah said he didn’t reach the hotel until seven thirty, but this list shows him entering the garage at five forty-five.”

It was becoming harder and harder to believe that my ex-boyfriend was innocent. Clearly, he hadn’t told us
the truth about the time of his arrival, which meant that now, along with a motive, albeit one that still seemed implausible to me, he had had opportunity. My only hope was that Eggers had lied, too, but his motive—insane jealousy because he’d wanted Joelle for himself—seemed even less convincing than Noah’s did.

I woke slowly, somewhat surprised to find myself alone and in my own bed back home. Had I made the right decision to keep my relationship with Jake platonic? Gazing up at my bedroom ceiling, I waited for a sign from the heavens. When none appeared, I turned my attention to the ramifications of what we had found on the hotel’s parking list. I prayed that His Honor was the murderer and not Noah.

The doorbell interrupted my entreaties, and I dragged myself out of bed. As I shrugged into a chin-to-toe-length chenille bathrobe, I checked the time. It was a little past ten o’clock. Who would come for a visit that early on a Sunday morning?

With Gran gone, I hadn’t rushed to get up or dressed, but peering out the peephole, I wished I had. Detective Woods stood on my frontstep, a nasty look on his ugly face. When I didn’t respond to his repeated ringing, he began hammering on the oak panels with his fists.

Determined to ignore him until he gave up, I hugged myself and hoped Gran didn’t return from her outing until I had gotten rid of the detective.