Stilettos & Scoundrels (40 page)

“You came to me, Helen.”

“Please,” Helen said dryly. “Your mother would have your hind-end if you went to the bigger rags over this.”

True
, I thought wryly.
“What about Bobby Johnson?”
I
was getting more curious about the
Cooper
situation
,
especially since Helen kept dodging the question. Why would she keep ignoring
me
if there wasn’t something bad there?

She shrugged
.
“What could that possibly have to do with anything?” She took out a cigarette to light up. That threw
me
off track for a minute; this wasn’t the public side one usually saw of Helen. She noticed
me
staring at her.

“Filthy habit, I know, but it’s times like these that I can’t stop.” She inhaled noisily. “It makes me feel so much better.”

“Anyway, according to the rumor mill, Bobby also has a gambling problem.” That was a confirmed rumor, but
I
wasn’t going to tell Helen that.
I
wanted to see what she might tell
me,
and the best way to get information was to play as if you didn’t have a lot. People loved to be the one to tell you things.

“Presley, that has nothing to do with anything,” Helen interrupted. “Bobby and whatever issues he might have are not connected in any way to Tom.
Don’t be stupid
.”

“Then what do you want from me?”
I
was exasperated that all she could do was speculate.

“I need you to get your little friends, Dirt and
Cooper
, to stay away from this, to leave me alone until I can get this matter taken care of. The last thing I need stressing me out in this whole mess is interference from those two.”

Wow, it took a cold-hearted person to say
that
the men trying to solve her husband’s murder were stressing her out rather than the fact he was dead.

“I am assuming you mean Dirt?”

“And
Cooper
. They are both determined to find out who killed Tom. I know who killed Tom, it was these bad guys
,
and prosecuting them won’t bring him back. I just want to make them go away so they don’t kill me too
,
and I can’t do that with those two sniffing around,” she said, examining her nails on one hand, holding a cigarette in the other. “Besides
,
the last thing they probably want to do is get more involved than they already are.”

“I don’t know what makes you think they will listen to me, Helen.”

“I’m sure you can figure something out. Plus, you owe me.”

“How do you figure?”
Sheesh, this lady was a piece of work.

“I don’t have time to go into all that,” she said, waving her hand as if to dismiss
my
question. “Anyway, keep them off my back
until
Friday. After that,
this will be over and I’m out of here. Then you can do whatever the hell you want.” She threw her still
-
smoldering cigarette on the ground and walked away.

“Helen….”

“Bye, Presley. Don’t forget our agreement.” She waved to
me
with one of those frou-frou
insincere
waves, and left
me wondering when I
ever agreed to anything and what the hell was going on with
Cooper
.

Helen left and I
sure as hell wasn’t sticking around in this creepy place. With Helen confirming the gambling angle,
I
felt
I
was making progress. For some reason
,
my
gut kept telling
me
that
Simon Atkins
, one of Cooper’s guys and the son of Garrison Palazzo,
was somehow involved
.
There was just something about him that didn’t seem quite right.
Helen’s refusal to try and contact Palazzo when she and Tom had known him was making it all the more strange.

I
only met the man once
,
but it was weird how I kept running into him everywhere—at Betty’s, at the store, and now here. Weird. Maybe I
was biased because he was an ass the first time
I
met him and now held a grudge
,
but, hey,
I
really didn’t have much else to go on. The easy way
to find out about him
would be to ask
Cooper
. After all, Simon worked for him and surely he had thorough background checks on all of his employees. It did pose a small problem, however. First of all,
I
didn’t want
Cooper
to know
I
was still investigat
ing. Maybe he really believed me
before when
I
told him
I
would share information. Ha! Like he would be that naïve, but
I didn’t want to press my
luck. More importantly, if
I
saw
Cooper
I
knew
I
would feel compelled to ask him about what the
I
nternet search
had revealed
and what Helen meant by he
r comments. That was driving me
crazy. Even though
,
for the most part
,
I
felt sure he was innocent of any of those criminal charges, there was always the chance
I
was wrong and
I
didn’t want to face that
possibility
.
I
wanted a little more time to think about things and
about
how to best approach the situation.

So, who else might have information about Simon?

Suddenly,
I
thought of the perfect person. Okay, maybe not perfect, because that would be
Cooper
, but someone who would hopefully know something about Simon’s background. As the Senator’s assistant, Tobey would have to know something, wouldn’t he? As the Senator’s right
-
hand man,
he would probably
have in
-
depth knowledge about the people who spent time around the Senator. Wouldn’t he have been the person to hire
Cooper
’s firm in the first place or
have
at least handled some of the details? Maybe he knew about the people who work for
Cooper
.
I
thought it seemed logical. Besides, the other positive in going to Tobey was
that I
could ask him about Bobby.

If
I
remembered right, Tobey had a place in the apartment complex off Pinehurst.
I looked behind me
to see if there were an
y cars. It was all clear, so I
made an illegal
U
-turn.
My
philosophy on illegal U-turns was pretty much the same as it was on speeding
.
I
f the cops weren’t around, then it wasn’t illegal.

I
saw Tobey’s yellow Mercedes in the pa
rking lot as I
pulled into his complex.
Such a nice car and it really suits him
. Pulling into a parking spot and turning the car off,
I
thought the easy part was over because
I
wasn’t exactly sure which apartment he lived in and it was pretty late to just start knocking on doors. Inte
rrupting dinner wouldn’t gain me
any friends. Then it came to me: I
could look at the mailboxes.

Ever impressed with my
intelligence,
I
began to wonder what ever happened to small and cozy apartment complexes,
and
after a fruitless fifteen minutes of
checking boxes, I felt frustrated. I sti
ll hadn’t found his. It seemed like there
were a million buildings. When I
pulled into the parking lot,
I
hadn’t realized they had built an entire
ly
new section in back. So, what
I
believed
would
be an easily achievable task was becoming much more difficult than originally planned. About to take a break and g
o get some coffee to fortify my
self
,
I
hit the jackpot: Apartment 218, Tobey Stone.
Eureka!
I
could talk to him and
then
go get coffee.

I
pressed the door buzzer to the building and waited, tapping
my
toe impatiently. How freaking big was his apartment that it took so long to answer the buzzer? After all the walking around
I
did to find his stupid apartment,
I
wanted to sit down.
My
flip
-
flops were killing
my
feet.
I
pressed the buzzer again and finally heard the click of the security door.
It’s about time,
I thought. When I
stepped off the elevator on the second floor, Tobey was standing in his doorway. By the look on his face
,
I
had a feeling he
was
expect
ing
someone else to walk off the elevator. Quickly, that look was gone and replaced with a wide smile.
Impressive. He was getting good at this political stuff.
Too bad for him
I
was observant. A less astute person might not have caught that.

“
Hi, Presley. I wasn’t expecting you.”

Obviously
, that was the understatement of the year. Just as brightly and just as fake
,
I
replied, “I was in the neighborhood and thought I would stop by. I had a couple of questions I thought you could help me out with.”
For instance, who are you really expecting that you don’t want me to see?

“Sure.” Tobey stood in the doorway. It looked l
ike he didn’t want to invite me in. In my
opinion, that meant he definitely
didn’t want me
to see who he was expecting. Little did he know that two could play at that game.

“Can I come in for a minute?”
I
asked sweetly.
I could see he didn’t want me
to, but he didn’t know how to say no. Resigned, he opened the door wider
and stepped back, motioning me
inside.

Stealing a glan
ce around the apartment, all I
could think of was
that
he had better t
aste in home decorating than I
did and must make a hell of a lot more money than
me. But
his apartment here in Alkon probably
cost
half
of what I paid a month for my
condo
in the city, which I
could tell already was a lot smaller
than Tobey’s place
. There was something to be said for living in a small town.

“Your apartment is beautiful, Tobey.”
I
was sincere about that. His apartment
was
beautiful
—
something straight from a Pottery Barn catalog.

“Thanks
,
have a seat.” He seemed d
istracted as he motioned for me
to sit down on
his cream leather chaise. As I
sank down into its fluffiness,
I
thought
I might never be able to get back up. Hell, I may never want to get up.
I
struggled to sit up straight and put the thought that this was the most comfortable couch
I had ever sat on out of my
head.
I
couldn’t forget why
I
came here in the first place.

Tobey looked at
me
expectantly.
I
could tell he was anxiou
s to get this over with and me
out of his apartment. He must have something to hide or he wouldn’t be so uptight
that I
stopped by.
He was also freshly showered, still-damp hair a telltale sign, and was dressed in casual, but nice clothes—not the kind you put on if you were just going to hang out on the couch for the night. That’s what I would do. In fact, I wasn’t far from it now. Damn Helen and her drama waking me up from my nap and making me rush out in sweats and flip-flops. I
was a little
offended he wasn’t offering me
anything. He certainly wasn’t being a good host.