Ed Gorman - Cold Blue Midnight

And now this.

She wanted to feel bad for Eric: that was what she was really struggling with. She wanted her dislike of him to subside so she could feel an appropriate sense of loss, but all she could summon now was rage at violence of this sort, and real sympathy for Eric's wife and children. This was the kind of event that would mark the girls for years, if not for life.

And finally she even felt sympathy for Eric. He had been an insecure and manipulative man but despite that there had been some genuine good times, and because of Eric she'd been able to go on her own as a photographer. His business acumen had given her the money she'd needed.

'What time did you leave?'

Jill didn't realize, until Kate's question had floated unanswered for a few seconds, that her friend had even spoken.

'I'm sorry. What was that?'

'What time did you leave Eric's office?' Even in a simple white button-down blouse and designer jeans, her shining dark hair touching her shoulders, doe-eyed Kate looked gorgeous.

'About seven-thirty, I guess.'

'Maybe you should call the police.'

'Yes, I guess I should.' She shook her head. 'God, I just can't believe it.'

'I had a friend in college, her brother was murdered like this. She said that even years later, she couldn't believe that somebody had killed him. She kept waiting for him to show up on her doorstep one day.'

'His poor wife and kids.'

'And poor Eric. I got the impression from the TV story that they must really have done a job on him.'

'You want more coffee?'

'If you wouldn't mind. I'd just gone out to get something to eat when I heard about Eric on the car radio, so I drove right over here.' She patted her stomach. 'It keeps growling.'

'I've got a stale donut in the cupboard if you're interested. Or a fresh apple.'

Kate grinned. 'Now knowing me, Ms Nutrition, which do you think I'd like? Fresh apple or stale donut?'

'Stale donut.'

Kate clapped her hands together like an exuberant child. 'Correct. Very good guess.'

As Jill prepared another pot of coffee, and set Kate's donut on a saucer, she thought again of Eric's widow and his children. Especially his children.

She said a silent prayer for them.

Mitch Ayers wanted to live in a kinder, gentler era and his choice in rental videos reflected this fact.

After leaving Jill's place, he declined the pleasure of meeting some cop buddies in a bar and instead went to Video Crazy where he rented comedy tapes with W. C. Fields and Laurel and Hardy, and a Warner Brothers one which included two Daffy Ducks, two Elmer Fudds and three Bugs Bunnys.

Mitch was from the last generation that went every week to Saturday afternoon matinees. This was in the mid-fifties when big shiny cars disgorged howling mobs of suburban kids in front of downtown theaters. He'd always been especially keen on comedy, Jerry Lewis, Francis The Talking Mule and Ma and Pa Kettle being among his favorites.

For nostalgia's sake, he'd even rented a Ma and Pa Kettle tonight.

He lay on the couch in a jogging suit, a can of Schlitz on the pressed-wood coffee table, trying hard to lose himself in Fields' The Bank Dick. Usually, Mitch had no trouble being transported back to the early part of the century when men were still gentlemen and women were still ladies.

But every thirty seconds or so he'd find his mind drifting back to Jill and what had happened at her place tonight. Much as he wanted to tell himself that it had gone well, that she hadn't kicked him out anyway, he'd seen how much he'd hurt her. He remembered disappointing his youngest daughter once by forgetting her birthday. He would always remember her face that day just as he would always remember Jill's face tonight.

He loved her: he was more sure of that than ever. The question was, even though he knew she loved him, would she take him back? Would she give them another chance?

The phone rang.

He felt a ridiculous surge of hope. Maybe it was Jill, inviting him back over tonight. All is forgiven.

Ridiculous was the operative word. Unless she had recently soaked her vocal chords in two packs of Winstons and a pint of Old Grandad a day, this was not Jill.

'I thought you were goin' out with some of the boys tonight?' Lieutenant Sievers drawled.

'Decided to turn in early. What can I do for you, Lieutenant?'

'You know a lady named Jill Coffey, right?'

'Right. Went out with her for several months.'

'Tell me about her.'

'No, you tell me about her.' He felt anxious suddenly, and angry that his boss hadn't explained why he'd called. 'Why are you asking about her?'

'Her former business partner was killed tonight and I understand she was up in his office around the time it happened. Her name was in his appointment book.'

'Are you talking about Eric Brooks?'

'One and the same.'

'Killed?'

'Stabbed to death. Stabbed several times, in fact. I'm told the crime scene is a real mess.'

'You're not telling me you think Jill had something to do with this, are you?'

'All I know, Mitch, is one of the homicide boys said that he thought you'd known her at one time and would I call you and get your general impressions.'

'My general impressions are all favorable. She's a very nice, kind, appealing woman.'

'Sounds like you might be sorry you're not still seeing her.'

'I am, as a matter of fact.'

'Well, we'll have to ask her some questions.'

'I'm sure she'll be happy to cooperate.'

'She got a temper?'

'Not a very bad one.'

'She really hated this guy, huh?'

'Hated is a little strong. She didn't admire him much.'

'Then why'd she go see him tonight?'

'As you said, you'll have to ask her some questions.'

'I'd invite you along but I don't think that'd be a good idea. Professionally speaking, I mean.'

'Neither do I.'

The Lieutenant paused. 'Now don't go gettin' all bent out of shape about this next question, all right?'

'I'm ahead of you. As far as I know, they were never lovers.'

'You pretty sure of that?'

'Pretty sure, yes. I mean, I think he hit on her a lot but it didn't do any good.'

'When he hit on her, would that get her pretty stirred up, you think?'

'If you mean angry, yes, I suppose it did. But not angry enough to stab him.'

'Are you sure about that?'

'I told you, Lieutenant, she's not the type.'

'I appreciate the information, Mitch.'

'She's a very nice woman. Tell homicide to take it easy with her.'

'Like I said earlier, I guess it's a good thing you're not going along.'

'Yeah,' Mitch said. 'I guess it is.'

After hanging up, he put in a different tape and lay back down again. But not even Daffy Duck's famous lisp could amuse him now.

More than he wanted to admit, he was concerned about Jill Coffey.

Cini was just opening her second box of Good n' Plentys when the phone rang in her apartment.

'Hi, honey. We were just wondering how you were doing.'

Oh great, just what she needed. Mom and Dad. Much as she loved them, she hated the way they constantly called to see what she was up to. She'd once overheard them refer to her to a next door neighbor as their 'problem child.' And she'd resented them ever since.

'I'm doing fine.'

'You sound funny.'

'I do?'

'Like you're eating something.'

'Oh. Right. Yes, I've got something in my mouth.'

'Your mouth?'

'A Good n' Plenty.'

'A Good n' Plenty? I didn't think you ate things like that anymore. You remember what Dr Steiner said.'

'''Well-balanced food cuts down on the craving for junk food, Cini." And Dr Steiner didn't say it, you did.'

'I really don't appreciate that tone of voice, Cini. I am, after all, your mother. And the man standing next to me is, after all, your father.'