Daniel Annechino - Hypocrisy

Dupree glanced at T.J. and immediately felt uneasy, as if it was the morning after a one-night-stand, regret dominating her thoughts. She almost felt embarrassed that she’d shared her entire history with T.J., unedited and without reservation. She suspected that their relationship would never be quite the same from this day forward. Now that he knew so many intimate details about her, how could it ever be the same?

Trying to shake off her feeling of anxiety, Dupree offered a salute with her mug of coffee. “Mornin’ guys. I thought all cops ate donuts for breakfast.”

“Not when the captain brings in fresh bagels,” Butler said.

“What’s the occasion?” Dupree asked.

“I think he got laid last night,” T.J. said. “How’s your head this morning?”

“Need you ask? Next time I stop for one drink with you, I’m sticking with tonic water.”

“T.J. tells me you two had quite a night,” Butler said.

Quite a night ?

Given T.J.’s alleged reputation with women, it suddenly occurred to Dupree that Butler might be thinking that the two of them had hooked up last night. Trying to make light of Butler’s comment, Dupree forced a smile. “Let’s just say that I haven’t been that toasted since my high school prom.”

“So I’ve heard.” Butler looked at his watch and stood. “I’d love to chat with you two fine detectives, but I have to earn my keep. I’m meeting with the M.E. in a few minutes to discuss the autopsy results for Dr. Crawford. Talk to you later.”

“Wish I could join you, but T.J. and I have a crazy-busy day. Call me as soon as you finish with the M.E.”

“Will do.”

As soon as Butler left the room, Dupree looked at T.J. “Please tell me that you didn’t—”

“Give me a little credit, Amaris. I’ll take your story to the grave.”

“Thank you.

T.J opened a manila folder. “Got some interesting information for you this morning. Some boring but some that might perk you up.”

“I’m listening,” Dupree said.

“I thoroughly checked out Dr. Mason and he’s a model citizen. Lives in a spectacular home in the Hamptons, he pays his taxes on time, belongs to Gulfstream Country Club, been married twice, he’s a widower, has no kids, and no criminal record. He retired from his private practice a couple years ago and joined Dr. Crawford at the Horizon Cancer Research Center.”

“I hope that’s the boring part because I’m yawning here,” Dupree said.

“Here’s the fun stuff,” T.J. said. “Little Miss Maggie Hansen—our straight-laced scientist? She may not kill spiders, but has no problem kicking the shit out of humans.”

“Say again.”

“First off, back in her college days, she got into an argument with her roommate and beat her silly. Roomie ended up in the hospital, and Hansen was arrested and charged with assault. For whatever reason, Hansen’s roommate didn’t press charges, so she got off with a slap on the hand. But get this: the fight was over a guy.”

“I’m not getting the connection,” Dupree said.

“Well, fasten your seatbelt because I’m not done yet. On a hunch, I called Dr. Mason this morning and caught him just as he was leaving the office. He said he had to catch a flight and didn’t have time to talk. But I convinced him to give me a few minutes. So, I asked him why Crawford fired Hansen. He confirmed that the employment records clearly state that she was fired because she did not meet the deadline to complete the critical report Hansen told us about. But here’s the kicker. Remember Jonathan Lentz, Dr. Crawford’s ex-boyfriend? It seems that while he was dating Dr. Crawford, he and Hansen had a little fling. Lentz and Hansen met at a holiday get together at Dr. Mason’s home. Apparently, Lentz and Hansen really hit it off. Ultimately, their little affair caused great conflict between Hansen and Dr. Crawford. So much so that Dr. Crawford eventually ended her relationship with Lentz.”

“You’ve really done your homework,” Dupree said. “So it would seem that to save face and preserve her dignity, Dr. Crawford couldn’t just fire Hansen. She needed a reason.”

“Obviously, this whole triangle relationship thing wouldn’t be motive enough for Hansen to murder Dr. Crawford. In fact, Dr. Crawford probably fantasized about murdering Hansen. However, when you add to the equation that Hansen was bitter because Dr. Crawford fired her, she supposedly passed on a job offer from Hyland Laboratories, and said nothing about the assault charge…”

“We need to get Hansen down here,” Dupree said. “Pronto.”

“I’m on it,” T.J. said.

Dupree looked at her watch. “It’s only eight-thirty in the morning and already you got this background info on both Mason and Hansen?”

“Hey,” T.J. said. “I rolled on this yesterday.”

“I’m impressed,” Dupree said. “Great detective work.”

“Maggie Hansen will be here at noon,” T.J. said, looking as proud as someone who’d earned the Medal of Honor. “She came up with a dozen excuses why she couldn’t come to the precinct, but I convinced her that she wouldn’t be happy with the alternative.”

“Great.” Dupree looked at her watch. “That gives me just enough time to powder my nose and puke.”

“Still out of sorts, hey?”

The night had been long and restless. Dupree was still not sure she’d made a wise decision sharing her story with T.J. But what could she do now? Only hope that he did not betray her confidence. “I’m not the gal I used to be.”

“Well, this should make you feel a little better.” He removed a folded piece of paper from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to Dupree. “The search warrant came through for Dr. Crawford’s apartment.”

“Fantastic. Right after we interview Hansen, let’s head over there.”

“I’m with you.” T.J. turned toward the door but Dupree tugged on his shirtsleeve.

“Are we okay?” Dupree said. “Me and you? I mean my story and all the dirty details of my life don’t change anything between us, right?”

“I did talk to the captain about finding another partner, but no, nothing has changed.”

Dupree was relieved that T.J. could keep things lighthearted. Tension between them would seriously compromise their partnership. The last thing she wanted was for things to get even more complicated. “And by the way, Buster, don’t think for one minute that I’m letting you off the hook. You better stick to our agreement.”

“Agreement?”

“Don’t even ,” Dupree warned. “You owe me an autobiography. In-depth and personal.”

“Really?” T.J. couldn’t suppress the grin. “I can’t be held accountable for any commitment I might have made while under the influence.”

“Let me phrase it in a more compelling way,” Dupree said. “If I don’t get the story—the whole story, not some made-up bullshit—you and a pair of your most prized possessions will be parting company and your voice is going to be an octave higher. Are you getting a visual?”

Before T.J. could answer, Butler hustled toward them.

“Just finished with the M.E. It shouldn’t surprise you that Dr. Crawford died of a gunshot wound to the head. In fact, the M.E. found three .22 slugs in her brain. They entered cleanly through her left temple. It appears that the killer must have pressed the weapon hard against her head so that the right side was held motionless against the rear door. Because the bullets didn’t exit, they did as much damage as a high caliber bullet might do. Maybe more. The M.E. said part of her brain looked like red oatmeal. Probably died instantly.”

“Was she sexually assaulted?” Dupree asked.