Begging for Trouble (25 page)

“Yeah,”
grumped Buckley.
“Did she try to stomp around in your brain the way she does in mine?”

Conversation escalated from there, with Rudy and the poohuahua rehashing their evening with Madame Orzo. After the canines did their business, she dropped them at home and wrote Kayla a note asking for her approval to contact Eugene about Bradley. If Rob’s sister said yes, she would get the annoying man’s promise that he’d take good care of his temporary client. She had never thought she’d see the day when she was friendly toward Eugene, but he’d been easy to get along with lately, and she got the feeling he actually accepted her as one of the area’s legitimate professional walkers.

After seeing to the rest of her charges in the building, they moved on to Sara Studebaker’s complex. When no one answered Ellie’s knock, she figured her friend was at her new store, so she retrieved the rest of the dogs and finished the walks. Then the trio moved on to the Cranston Arms.

Their first stop was the Lowensteins’, where she would pick up Sampson. Since Mariette had been home the last couple of times, Ellie knocked and waited before opening the door. A moment later, Norman Lowenstein greeted her with the pudgy Pug at his side.

“Ms. Engleman. Hello.”

“Judge,” she acknowledged. She knew men of his position expected a certain amount of respect for the job they did. She’d been careful with Stanley, too, until she got to know him. “I’m surprised to see you. Is today a holiday for the courts?”

“No, no. But I’ve cleared my calendar. Mariette’s been under the weather, and I’m worried about her.” He stuck his hands in the pockets of his cranberry-colored cashmere sweater. “I take it you’ll be at the Fryes’ tomorrow night?”

The Fryes?
“At Georgette and Stanley’s place? Yeah, Rudy and I will be there with bells on.”

Judge Lowenstein raised a brow and focused on the yorkiepoo. “You do realize this is a formal affair in honor of the three judges being considered for the appellate court?”

“So Mother said, though it was Stanley’s idea to invite Rudy. The judge has a rule: I’m not allowed to come to their apartment unless I bring my boy. Mother isn’t an animal lover, so it was the only way he could guarantee that he and my dog could visit.”
And who are you to say who I can and can’t bring to my parents’ party, even if it is in your honor?
“He’ll be quiet. You’ll hardly know he’s there.”

“Are you sure Judge Frye wasn’t joking?”

Ellie shushed him with a look. “I’m pretty sure he wasn’t. He said—”

“Norman? Who’s at the door?” called Mariette from somewhere in the apartment. Standing tall, the judge frowned, and it was then Ellie realized he was quite a bit shorter and thinner than his partner.

“I’m handling things, Mariette. There’s no need for you to be involved.”

Whoa, thought Ellie. He sure told her. “Can I do anything to help?” she asked as she hooked Sampson to his lead.

“Norm? Is everything all right?” Mariette’s voice was high-pitched and warbling, not at all her usual commanding tone.

“Get control of yourself, Mariette. I’ll join you for a cup of tea in a few seconds,” the judge chastised, not an ounce of sympathy in his tone.

Ellie knew she was being dismissed, and not in a nice way either. “We’ll be back in a half hour or so,” she said, sidling out the door.

She led the dogs to the elevator, thinking about the Lowensteins. Mariette was usually a model of decorum. In fact, she was so adept at handling herself that the one time Ellie had seen the Lowensteins together, she thought Mariette was the alpha bitch in their relationship. Today, it sounded as if Mariette had experienced a mental lapse . . . almost as if she was in distress.

Ellie filed the experience away and led the group off the elevator and onto Freud’s floor. She would see both the Lowensteins at the judge’s party, and she might be better able to get a handle on Mariette’s problem there.

She focused on this walk. Only one more unit and they were through for the morning.

 

Sam and Vince were in the office when their phones rang at the same time. After Sam answered his, he mouthed “medical examiner” to his partner and turned his chair around for privacy. Vince left the room a couple of seconds later and Sam centered his chair, then rested his elbows on the desk. “Sorry about the delay, Dr. Kingsgate. What do you have for us?”

“The autopsy and toxicology screenings on Mr. Pearson are finished. A lab tech is faxing the results as we speak.”

“Maybe you could fill me in while I wait,” said Sam. “Our machines are always on overload for one reason or another.”

“No problem. The toxicology screening came back clean and green. The victim was drug free, nothing in his system but the remains of an over-the-counter cold medication. Autopsy showed he was in good physical condition, just like Dr. Bridges thought. Death occurred as the result of a stab wound to the back of the neck between the third and fourth cervical vertebrae. The victim went into immediate spinal shock, disconnecting the brain from the body. He probably didn’t feel a thing once he hit the floor.”

“TOD?”

“Time of death approximately ten p.m. Smack in line with when you found the body.”

“And the scissors Rob Chesney was holding?”

“Based on the width and depth of the wound, we believe the puncture was made by a weapon consistent with that type of object. We heard from forensics that they found tissue matching that of the deceased embedded between the blades. Gruesome, I know, but that’s the whole of it.”

“So we definitely have our weapon. Problem is, the fingerprints on the scissors were smeared. All we have is one clear partial belonging to Chesney. It makes sense, considering we caught him with the weapon.” He leaned back in his chair. “Guess I’d better check the fax machine.”

“You do that, and let me know if the reports don’t show up. Dr. Bridges said to let us know if you need anything else.”

He disconnected the call and drummed his fingers on the desk. The investigation was rounding out perfectly, just as he’d expected. Trouble was, he never cared much for an easy case, because something always happened to fuck it up. And knowing that Ellie was sniffing around didn’t make it any better.

What in the hell had she been doing last night that caused her to turn off her phone? And why had she skated around the answer when he asked about it? The fact that she hadn’t told him outright about her evening excursion could mean only one thing: She’d been snooping, and she didn’t want to let him in on it.

Vince strolled in, tossed a handful of papers on Sam’s desk, and added a manila folder. “This ought to make your day.”

Sam examined the stacked pages, skimming the paperwork Dr. Kingsgate had promised. Then he opened the file and scanned the data on Rob Chesney’s bank records. “Not exactly what we were hoping for,” he said after a moment. “I take it you talked to the lawyer handling his trust account before you got these?”

“That’s who called me when the ME phoned you. When I got to the fax machine, everything was waiting. It’s all there in dingy black and white.”

“The withdrawals from Chesney’s trust account for his mortgage and credit card payments and his self-imposed monthly allowance are clear, but there’s nothing that shows a regular withdrawal that comes close to the amount Pearson was raking in.” He bounced the eraser end of a pencil on his blotter. “You’re sure the trust attorney wasn’t hiding anything?”

“Not so I could tell. He was open, sent me the paperwork as promised, told me if I needed to access the accounts on my own, he’d be happy to let me in. He just wanted to be careful, what with identity theft being so prevalent these days.”

“You have to wonder, if there’s no record of our guy making monthly withdrawals of ten big ones, where did Pearson get the dough?”

“You know the rule—follow the money. But it’s going to be tough, seeing as all the victim’s deposits were made in cash.”

“And the attorney is certain Chesney had no other source of income?”

“Claims he made a couple of thousand a month from the clubs he worked as a drag queen, but it was nowhere near the amount we’re looking for. He also said his client was a fanatic about living within his means. The only big money he spent was on specialty clothing, tax deductible because of his profession. Other than that, and a trip to Barneys a couple of times a year, Chesney never went through more than the usual living expenses. In fact, without counting the cash he needed for his bond, he’d never asked for any large amount.” Vince rounded his desk. “That means we have to make a decision.”

“After we talk it over with the assistant DA.”

“Not we. You. Remember that trip Natalie and I are scheduled to take today? We’re supposed to leave for south Jersey in the next”—he glanced at his watch—“twenty-seven minutes. Which means I’m outta here.” Vince stood. “I hate to dump it on you, but this weekend has been planned since Christmas. It’ll be the baby’s first visit to Nat’s grandparents’ home, though Mr. and Mrs. Nunzio have been up here every month since Angela’s been born. We have to leave now if we want to avoid that snowstorm they’re predicting.”

“I know how bad traffic on the Jersey Turnpike can be, even without the storm warning, so don’t worry about it,” Sam said. “Besides, you had to put off your last three-day break for the Northway case. I understand.”

“Don’t you have some big shindig set for tomorrow night? Something to do with Ellie’s stepfather, the judge?”

Sam shrugged. “She got the invite, not me. I haven’t decided if I’m going.”

“What would keep you away?”

“Ellie didn’t say, but I’m fairly certain the dress is formal, for one thing. Then there’s the guest list. Lawyers, judges, city officials—no one I care to associate with.”

“But you patched things up with Ellie, right?”

“Some. Trouble is, I’m not sure she got the message.”

Vince cleared his desk and turned off his computer. “The message?”

“The same damn thing we’ve argued about since the day we met. Keeping her nose clean.”

“I get the feeling that’s a useless argument,” said Vince, shaking his head. “Just learn to live with it. Your girl is stubborn and she loves to snoop. Those are traits I doubt she’ll ever outgrow.”

“I almost lost it a couple of months back, when I walked into her apartment and found that nut job threatening to shoot her if she didn’t drink a poison-laced cup of tea.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Carolanne didn’t give a flying fuck about my job, complained, cheated, did everything she could to ruin our relationship. Ellie is the exact opposite . . . wants to know about my work, never gripes when I leave her for a case—” He heaved a sigh. “I just want to keep her safe.”

“Why don’t the two of you make a deal? She promises to tell you whenever she plans to do some scouting and agrees to report back on what she finds. Then she doesn’t make another move without your okay. No going off half-cocked or putting herself in danger.”

“We did that. I’m just not sure she’ll keep her word.”

“Trust me. She’ll honor it,” Vince said, heading for the door. “Ellie’s as honest as they come. If you got her to promise, she’ll do it. Just give her a chance.”

Sam tossed his pencil on the blotter. “If I didn’t care about her—”

“Sounds to me like this is more serious than you’re willing to admit,” said Vince. “Don’t be stupid. Let her know how much she means to you, pal.”

“Have a nice weekend,
pal
,” Sam shouted to his partner’s retreating back.

He ground his molars. Vince was right. He was serious about Ellie. She was funny, sweet, caring . . . all the things his ex had never been. She was also high class, though she worked hard to give a different impression. How could he keep up with a woman who made more money than he did and stood to inherit a bundle more? And money or no money, he would never be able to support her the way she supported him.

Maybe his mother was right. Maybe if he moved in with her, he’d be able to keep a better eye on her, get her to straighten up and fly right. Then he remembered her dog.

Lately, he and the miserable mutt had come to some sort of understanding. Rudy hadn’t thrown him a single growl or snotty look for at least a month. Even slept in the guest room when he and Ellie shared her bed. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the dog actually approved of his being around.

Sam spied the open folder and gazed at the financial information inside. He’d looked into Pearson’s record and gotten the dates and other basic info on the guy’s past arrests, but there were a couple of particulars he hadn’t checked, because he hadn’t thought they’d matter.

He replayed the scene at Guess Who in his mind. Chesney had looked shocked, kneeling in that pool of blood with the scissors in his hand, but the guy was a showman, so there was a chance he’d been acting. His story was plausible, just barely. What dope would walk into a crime scene and remove the murder weapon? Was Chesney such a humane idiot that he would truly do something that stupid? Did he really have no idea of the rules about contaminating a crime scene?

He snorted. Without a motive or the proof of a money exchange, there was a good chance the DA would drop the charges. Which meant he and Vince were back to square one. Who was paying Pearson and why?

Sam checked his watch, then made a call to the records department to start the investigation rolling in another direction. If the weather report was right, traveling tomorrow was going to be a nightmare. There was a tuxedo rental shop in his neighborhood and a damn good Chinese restaurant near Ellie. He could surprise her with dinner and stay the night, then retrieve his info in the morning. That would give him and his girl the day to get ready for the judge’s party.

He might not be able to say the words yet, but tonight was the perfect time to show her how much he cared.