Karen Olson - The Missing Ink

He chuckled. “Kavanaugh, you don’t have the same walk-in clientele I have. And you don’t stay open past midnight.”

Point taken.

“Did someone break into the shop?” I asked.

Jeff sighed. “My mother forgets to lock the door. No one needs to break in.”

I remembered how Sylvia had left the door unlocked when I was there.

“There were latex gloves and needles in the bathroom in that suite,” I said. “Was anything else missing from your shop?”

He frowned. “I don’t know. Gloves and needles? Really?”

“They confiscated my case.”

Jeff rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Whoever killed that guy didn’t know you were going to be there, but thought I was. I don’t get it. Why set me up? I didn’t even know the guy who was killed.”

“But you knew Kelly, who had a tie to Elise, who knew the guy who was killed.”

Jeff made a face at me. “And Professor Plum was killed by a candlestick in the parlor.”

“Funny, ha, ha.”

“Yeah, but we’re missing some parts of the story, Kavanaugh.”

I debated whether I should be the bearer of the bad news, but I had no choice. “Kelly was pregnant,” I said. “Four months.”

His face turned white, his eyes wide. “That’s impossible.”

“My brother told me,” I said. “So I don’t think it’s just a rumor. The cops want to ask you about it.”

He couldn’t seem to get his bearings. His eyes skirted around. “I couldn’t get her pregnant before. Why would they think I could now?”

“Beats me,” I said softly. “So are you sure it was her and not you-the problems, I mean?”

Jeff nodded. “That’s what the doctors said.”

“Did you do an in vitro or anything like that?” I knew my question was deeply personal, but I was curious.

For a second I thought he was going to tell me to mind my own business, but then he said, “We started the process, but it just seemed too complicated after a while. She was young, not even thirty. She told me maybe it would straighten itself out.” He paused. “I guess it did.”

“But she left you.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“You trained her,” I said. “I found her on the Internet. She was inking some pretty big celebrities.”

“She was a fast learner. Could’ve used her in the shop.” His expression was wistful as he thought about what might’ve been. Go figure, but I was feeling sorry for him.

“So why leave you and reinvent herself in L.A.?” I asked.

Jeff snorted. “No clue. But she got to rub elbows with celebrities.”

She did more than rub elbows with Simon Chase.

“What about her brother? You know, I think he’s been following me around.”

“Following you? Like some sort of surveillance?”

I hadn’t thought of it that way. “I don’t know.” I told him about the few times I’d seen Matthew.

When I was done, Jeff said, “I don’t know what he’s up to, but he’s been around. Heard he was in a bar fight, almost killed a guy. I’d be careful around him.”

No kidding.

“Why don’t you just turn yourself in?” I asked him. “Just tell the police what you’ve told me. Someone stole your gun, probably stole the gloves and needles, too. You’re getting set up, and by hiding, they think you’re even guiltier.”

“I want to know why I’m being set up before I go to the cops.”

“Maybe you’re just an easy target,” I suggested.“Spurned ex-husband, you know the drill.”

“They could get that casino manager for the same reason,” he muttered.

“Simon Chase?” I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice. “You know about him?”

“A mutual acquaintance told me about it. Like I wanted to know.” Bitterness seeped out of his words. He shook his head. “Listen, Kavanaugh, can you keep your ear to the ground? I’ll check in with you. See if you can find out anything on your end, and I’ll try to see if I can figure out what’s going on.”

I opened my mouth to protest, and he put two fingers across my lips.

“Give me a day or two, and then I’ll talk to your brother, okay? Just give me that much time.”

I pulled my head back, away from his fingers. I didn’t see that I had much choice, and what was another couple of days? Kelly and Matt were dead already. Strangely, I trusted his story, the whole thing, from the stolen gun to his belief he was being set up.

I nodded. “Okay, a couple of days. And do me a favor, too, all right? If you hear anything about Kelly’s brother and why he’s following me, let me know?”

Jeff grinned. “Deal.”

“Brett!” I heard my name yelled across the sea of people, and I saw Joel lumbering toward me.

When I turned back to where Jeff had just been standing, he was gone.

Joel dropped me at the Venetian before taking Sylvia back to Murder Ink. Jeff’s story was swirling in my head, and I had a funny feeling that I had all the pieces, but I still couldn’t figure out how they fit together.

“Nice to see you,” Ace said sarcastically when I walked into the shop.

Uh-oh.

Bitsy slapped his hand. “She had a date with a rich Englishman. How could she say no to that?” She looked up at me and winked. “Didn’t think lunch would take that long.”

“Had a little encounter with Bruce Manning,” I said. “Apparently I’ve been banned for life from Versailles.”

Ace chuckled. “What does that mean? Banned? Like, forever?”

“Yeah. Guess so.”

“What happened?” Bitsy jumped in.

“He didn’t like it that I found a body in his hotel. Guess he’s holding it against me personally. He also didn’t like it that I had lunch with his manager, or that Elise came into my shop.”

“So he’s blaming you for everything that’s going on?” Bitsy asked.

“Pretty much.” I didn’t really want to talk about it anymore. I just wanted quiet. I went into the staff room and pulled a Coke out of the fridge.

Ace draped himself against the doorjamb as I settled in to work on a sketch at the light table.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Sorry. About before. But you haven’t been around too much the last couple days.”

“I know.” I didn’t need to conjure Sister Mary Eucharista for the guilt I was feeling. “It’s just been a little crazy. It’ll get back to normal now.”

“You sure about that?”

I smiled. “No.”

As I sketched, I thought about Simon Chase and Bruce Manning and Jeff Coleman and Kelly Masters.

And about where Elise Lyon might be. I hoped she was still alive.

Which reminded me…

I pulled my cell phone out of my bag and dialed Tim’s number. He picked up on the second ring.

“What do you want, Brett?” He was working and didn’t want me to bother him.

“I heard Kelly Masters’s brother, Matthew, almost killed someone in a bar fight.”

“Are you doing some sort of genealogical tree?”

“Don’t be snippy. I’m just trying to help.”

“Have you seen him again?”

I told him about seeing Matthew at Versailles with Simon Chase. “Maybe they’re in on it together,” I suggested.

“In on what?”

Good question.

“Did he approach you? Threaten you or anything?” Tim was asking.

“No.”

“Then just try to stay out of trouble. And stay away from Versailles.” It was the way he said it that made me take pause.

“You didn’t hear from Bruce Manning, did you?” Mr. Big Shot who had friends in high places.

He was so quiet I thought I’d lost the connection, then, “Just stay away from Versailles, okay? Just go about your life as normal.”

It was futile to try to explain that my life had been far from normal the last few days. All I could do was agree. “Sure, fine.” I felt compelled to add, “I can’t believe Manning called you.”