Kate Carlisle - Murder Under Cover

“Again?”

“We’re missing something.” He sat back in the high chair. “I’d appreciate it if you would go through that evening step by step.”

Intrigued now myself, I went through it all again. “She came inside, she brought wine, and I ordered pizza. The delivery guy came. We had pizza and wine and talked. She told me about Alex. Then we went to my workshop so she could show me the book. I took it out of the satchel and unwrapped it, and there it was in all its glory.”

“Did you do any work on the book right then?”

“No.”

“Did you leave it somewhere?”

“I left it out on the table.” I laid my palm down. “Right here.”

“Did anyone else see it?”

I had to stop and think. It had been two weeks since Robin first brought me the book. So much had happened since then. “I remember you came home from Kuala Lumpur the next day.”

“Yes.”

“Robin’s date with Alex was that night. And very early the next day, she showed up here all bloody.”

“I remember that, of course. But before that, did anyone else see the book? Did you take it out of the house to show Ian? Or someone at the book arts center, perhaps?”

“No. Ian saw it later, but… Oh, wait. Jeremy and Sergio stopped by the night Robin was here. Sergio brought cookies.”

Derek lifted an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you didn’t remember the cookies sooner.”

“Me, too. They were really good cookies.”

“Yes, I’ve tried them. Heavenly. Continue.”

“I showed them the book and we all giggled at the pictures. Sergio was interested, but Jeremy was… Jeremy wanted…”

“What did Jeremy want?”

“Crap.”

“Crap?” he prompted.

“Damn it. Jeremy wanted something to wear for his performance. He took the scarf.”

“What scarf?”

“The scarf. The scarf the book was wrapped in.”

Derek grabbed my shoulders. “What scarf? What wrap?”

“You’re going to kill me.”

“I couldn’t do that. I’d miss you too much. But if you don’t spit it out right now I’ll-”

I broke away and paced. “Jeremy wanted some crazy accessories for his street fair performance and we gave him…” I blinked, turned to Derek.

“You gave him…”

“The scarf. A long, flowing Indian scarf that Shiva wrapped the book in.”

“But it would be impossible to disguise the flash drive in a scarf.”

“No, no. It had these big fat beads and chunks of mirror and little animals and sequins sewn into the material and hanging off the fringes. It was very ethnic, and frankly, it was an ugly mess. Robin thought it was awful, but Shiva had told her-”

“What happened to the scarf?”

“Jeremy has it.”

He took a deep breath. “I interrupted you. What did Shiva tell Robin?”

I had to stop and breathe, too. “She told Robin to give the book to me and keep the scarf for herself. But it wasn’t Robin’s style. It was old and dirty and…”

“And…” he encouraged.

I buried my head in my hands. “And a tiny flash drive could easily be sewn into it or hidden inside one of the brass beads.”

I ran to the kitchen and grabbed my house key. After I locked the front door, we ran down the hall to Jeremy’s place. Derek pounded on their door, but there was no answer.

I checked my watch. “It’s after eleven. They must have left for the street fair.”

“Let’s go.”

On the way to the Castro District, I called Robin, trying to keep my tone casual. “Is your mother there with you?”

“Yeah, do you want to talk to her?”

“No, just wanted to make sure she had a good time last night.”

“She had a blast. She was so wired when we got home that she couldn’t sleep. She made a bunch of phone calls to her friends, then went out for a long walk. It was well after one o’clock and I was a little worried, even though my neighborhood is safe. I fell asleep and don’t even know what time she got home.”

“Interesting.” I aimed a glance at Derek. “She’s still coming to the street fair, right?”

“Of course she’s coming,” Robin said. “She’s excited about it. What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you in person. We’re already on our way.”

“Parking is going to be a nightmare. Be prepared to leave your car a few blocks away and walk. We can meet at Falafel Eddie’s.”

I checked my watch. “Okay, we’ll meet you there at noon. Bring your cell phone. I’ll call if I don’t see you.”

“You sound a little tense, Brooklyn.”

“Derek has some ideas about who might’ve killed Alex.”

She was silent for a moment, then said, “I’ll see you at noon.”

I hung up and looked accusingly at Derek. “You didn’t trust Shiva from the start.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said, evading the issue.

“When, then?” But I thought for a moment and had my answer. “No, it was right from the start. I never asked you why you stayed outside talking to Gabriel when Shiva first arrived at my mom’s house.”

“He thought she looked familiar, but he couldn’t place her.”

“Of course she would look familiar to a guy,” I said cynically. “She looks like a well-aged Angelina Jolie.”

“That’s not why,” he said, grinning wryly. “I simply thought it was suspicious that she showed up so soon after Robin ran into trouble.”

“Everything is suspicious to you,” I grumbled.

He shrugged but said nothing, confirming my statement.

I sighed. “I guess I should be glad about that, seeing as how you’re usually right. But I still can’t believe Shiva would deliberately put her own daughter in jeopardy. I also don’t believe she’s capable of murder, for God’s sake. There has to be some logical reason for all of this. Maybe her friend Rajiv instigated the whole thing.”

“Maybe.”

But then something hit me. I told him the full conversation I’d just finished with Robin, specifically the part where Shiva had gone out walking late last night. Derek listened without commenting, but it was clear what he was thinking.

Galina was killed sometime last night.

It was quarter to twelve when Derek found a place to park. Before leaving the car, he called Inspector Jaglom and told him his suspicions. He asked if they knew Galina’s time of death. “Sometime around two o’clock this morning?” he repeated for my benefit.

My shoulders slumped. That was around the time Shiva had been out “walking around,” or so she’d told her daughter.

“This is all circumstantial and may lead nowhere,” Derek warned Jaglom near the end of their brief conversation. “But I’d appreciate some police presence.”

A moment later, he ended the call. Reaching across me and into his glove compartment, he pulled out his gun and checked that the bullet thingie was good to go.

“What is that thing called?” I asked, morbidly fascinated.

“This is a magazine,” he said, holding it up. “It contains bullets. It goes right in here.” He shoved it into the handle. Then he pulled out a cylindrical piece of metal. “This is a suppressor. We don’t want to cause a panic with any loud gunshots.”

“Oh, hell, no,” I said, rolling my eyes. But then I put my hand on his knee to get his attention. “Derek, you’re not actually planning on using that in this crowd, are you?”

He touched my arm. “Darling, you know I would never endanger an innocent bystander.”

I met his gaze. “I know you wouldn’t. Just had to, you know, check. Guess I’m a little freaked out.”

“With good reason.” He slipped the gun into the holster he wore under his jacket, shoved the suppressor in his pants pocket, then winked at me. “Let’s go to the fair.”