Authors: James Henderson,Larry Rains
The Cadillac parked on the other side of the highway, she had to cross six lanes of traffic, and hoped no one would remember seeing a shoeless woman crossing the…A terrible thought hit her:
that damned shoe can send me to prison!
No choice: she had to go back and get it. “Shit!” She headed back down the hill, listening intently for Willie’s pathetic pleas. She heard nothing. Not even the sound of a lone cricket calling a mate, or a bass splashing in chase of shad--nothing! Just eerie silence.
Perry was petrified.
What if…just what if Willie realized he was in shallow water and walked out!
She backtracked her steps, tiptoeing, her head swiveling on her neck, looking for a good reason, any reason, to run. A snowball chance in hell, she told herself, the shoe could be found.
Physcially, Perry reclined in a green-and-white lounge chair by her pool, a magnolia tree casting a shadow over her.
Mentally, Perry knelt on the bank of Fourche Creek, searching frantically for a shoe. Sweat beaded her nose, her left foot twitched, and both hands opened and closed, as though she were sifting mud.
A soft moan escaped her lips.
And then a voice said, “Hello,” and Perry was certain that Willie Davis had returned from a watery grave.
Chapter 9
“Chenal Valley?” Tasha said.
“Not just Chenal Valley,” Bob said, as he steered the car onto the highway. “Chenal Valley Parkway.”
“Apartment or house?”
“You remember the Mary Lee Orsini case?”
“Vaguely. I was still in high school.”
“I was a patrolmen, in my third year. Mary Lee was this socialite who had the wife of a prominent attorney knocked off. It was a media circus. Coverage like you wouldn’t believe. In a high profile case one itty bitty misstep can come back and kick you in the ass. Damn defense lawyers will paint you as the bad guy and everyone will believe them. Brass won’t support you; they’ll leave your ass swaying in the wind.”
“Hopefully,” Tasha said, “this case won’t come down to all that.”
“Look at the dynamics. An attractive young woman, a million dollars, three dead men, all of whom, except Tyrone, were indigent. All points to a blame-the-overzealous-detectives defense.”
Tasha laughed. “Bob, please. The perp and the victims are minorities. You and I both know that minority homicides rarely garner public attention unless they are extremely violent or of a high number. You’re worried about our clearance rate.”
“It’s not that, Tash. Honest. That’s not it at all.” He stopped the car and put it in reverse. “Oops, I missed the exit.”
Minutes later they inched down Chenal Valley Parkway, looking for the number sixty-six on extravagant homes.
“Goodness,” Tasha said, “I couldn’t rent a mailbox out here.”
“I heard a few professional athletes live out here,” Bob said. “And a few movie stars.”
“Movie stars? Who?”
“What’s the name of the guy who played in the movie with Denzel?”
“Spike Lee.”
“No, the other guy?”
“Omar Epps.”
“No. This guy’s skinny. Funny. You know him. Whatshisface?”
“What’s the name of the movie?”
“Here we go.” He stopped the car.
“What’s the name of the--” Tasha caught her breath.
The pink two-story house before her, though not the most luxurious in the neighborhood, was an eye-catcher. Flowers of various colors and shapes covered the front yard.
Gardening for the Rich and Psychotic, Tasha thought.
“She’s into flowers, isn’t she?” Bob said, exiting the car.
“Who’s her gardener? Bundy, Dahmer, or Ferguson?”
They crossed the driveway, and Bob knocked on the brass door. A moment later he knocked again and then rang the doorbell.
“I don’t think she’s home,” ringing it again.
Tasha went to the garage door, tiptoed, cuffed her face and peered in. “I see two vehicles here. One’s a Cadillac, the other a Mercedes. Both black. You believe this, the vanity plate on the Mercedes says Pernicious.”
“What does that mean?”
“Wicked, destructive…and deadly. Let’s check around back.”
In back, a woman attired in a black-and-white two-piece bikini, sunglasses resting on her shapely midriff, reclined in a lounge chair near a heart-shaped pool. She appeared to be dreaming.
“Hello,” Bob said.
Her entire body shook, violently, and she stared up at Bob with a look of sheer terror.
She’s reliving a murder.
The woman quickly recovered, relaxing into the chair, casually putting the shades on.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” Bob said, flashing his badge. “I’m Detective Bob Kelvis, and this here is my partner, Detective Tasha Montgomery. Little Rock Police.”
With her middle finger extended the woman lowered the shades and stared up at Tasha.
She’s beautiful, Tasha thought, a compliment she seldom ascribed to women.
Yes, this woman was definitely beautiful: smooth tapioca-colored skin, full sensuous lips, small aquiline nose, hazel-colored eyes and long auburn hair that fanned down her shoulders. Long, shapely legs; tight stomach and large, supple breast that ballooned the bikini top.
The woman smiled. “Have a seat,” she said, indicating two lounge chairs. “Would you care for something to drink? It’s awfully hot out here.”
“No thank you,” Bob said. “It sure is hot out--”
“Are you Perry Davis?” Tasha said.
A moment the woman simply stared at Tasha. “Yes.”
“We’re homicide detectives,” Tasha said, looking for a reaction. Perry gave none. “Mrs. Davis, we need your help in a matter we’re investigating. It would be a great help to us if you would accompany us downtown…for an interview.”
This time Perry flinched, barely perceptible, a light twitch under her right eye.
Here comes the lie, Tasha thought:
‘I’m afraid I can’t, not today. The girl who does my toenails will be arriving shortly. Maybe later, perhaps ten years.’
Perry stood, adjusted the bikini straps, nodded and said, “Okay. You guys mind if I showered and put something on?”
Bob said yes, Tasha said no. They exchanged glances, Bob grinning, Tasha frowning at him.
Perry turned to Bob. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.” She walked under a red velvet patio awning, slid the patio door open, turned, waved and disappeared inside.
Bob, still grinning, waved back. “Shazam! That woman is built like Fort Knox. Solid gold.”
“Earth to Detective Bob Kelvis,” Tasha said. “Mission control reminding the detective he’s dealing with a murder suspect.”
“Yes, I know, Tash. You couldn’t take the woman downtown dressed in a bikini. Imagine the attention she’d attract.”
“We have plenty of orange jumpsuits downtown. I bet she’ll fit into one quite nicely. Seriously, Bob, we can’t allow her to dictate--”
Bob wasn’t listening, mouth wide open, tongue half out, and eyes bucked wide. Tasha followed his gaze, and her mouth dropped.
Perry stood behind the patio door, staring nonchalantly at them. Stark naked.
“Oh my God!” Bob said. “Oh my God! Tash, she’s naked. Naked as a jaybird!”
“Calm down, Bob. I see.”
They both could clearly see the woman’s silver-dollar-sized nipples, gold tummy ring, and her pubic hair, dyed blonde. Tasha locked eyes with her and held her stare.
Then Perry slipped out of view.
“Why in the world did she do that?” Tasha said.
Bob said nothing, still staring at the door, his mouth still open.
“Bob…Bob…Bob! The burlesque show is over. I’m going up front. She’s acting strange, might make a run for it.”
“Great idea, Tash. I’ll keep an eye on things back here.”
“Yeah, I know you will. Try not to hurt yourself, okay?”
“Hey, somebody gotta do it.”
In front, Tasha sat on the hood of the Taurus.
Girlfriend’s acting guilty
.
An
innocent person would have asked a million questions. Her response to two homicide detectives insisting she come downtown for questioning was to stand in the doorway naked. Why? A treat for Bob? Maybe. She was staring at me
…
as if she were
…She heard voices.
Bob and Perry came around the house, chatting amicably, Bob expanding on the advantages of composting.
For Pete’s sake, the man lives in an apartment.