Beneath The Surface (20 page)

They returned to the station and Carmen shot her promo for the next day’s feature. She got it on the first take. “I’m Carmen Taylor. Tune in tomorrow when we’ll feature a shelter for battered women.”

When Carmen and Max left the station that night, Black was waiting for her with a bottle of Diet Pepsi in his hand.

Carmen smiled when she saw Black standing there with that bottle in his hand. It made her feel like her feelings were important to him—like she was important to him.

“Excuse me, Max,” Carmen said and began walking slowly toward Black. Max quickly took out his cell phone and took a picture of Black.

“Hello Carmen,” Black said and handed her the Diet Pepsi.

“Thank you,” Carmen said and kissed him on the cheek. “It’s only seventeen years late, but thank you. And believe me,” Carmen kissed him on the other cheek, “this means a lot to me.”

They turned and walked away as Max looked on. He liked Carmen. In the short time they had worked together, she had become like a daughter to him, and he was very protective of her. After the story she told him and Dan about getting shot at, and her
friend
taking care of it, Max felt like he needed to know who this friend
was.

“So, Ms. Taylor, did you have any plans for the evening?” Black asked, and Carmen looped her arm in his, and rested her head on his shoulder as they walked.

“I do.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m doing it right now,” Carmen said, and felt a chill wash over her body.

“You mean you don’t have any new leads to follow up on? No fresh suspects that you have to question?”

“I do, but I don’t know where to find them,” Carmen said and told him the story of Jeannette Winters.

“And you think it’s the same woman that called and said she was with Tangela House the night of the murder?”

“I do. But the only way to be sure is to talk to her, and like I said: I don’t know where to find her,” Carmen said sadly.

“What about your cop friend; can’t she help you find her? I mean, you know her name, right?”

“Right.”

“All they’d have to do is hit the computer, search DMV, and you got an address for every Jeannette Winters in the city.”

“You’re right; it would be just that easy, but I don’t want to ask her.”

“I know you have your reasons why; so there’s only one thing to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Let me borrow your cell,” Black said, and Carmen handed her phone to him.
 
Black dialed a number as they walked.

“Hello,” a female voice answered.

“Sergeant Adams. Do you know who this is?”

“Yes, I do. Nobody has a voice like that, but you. And by the way, it’s lieutenant now,” Tamia Adams said proudly. For years she had been Freeze’s police informant, and Tamia provided Freeze with all types of services. When Freeze died, Black just sort of inherited her.

“Well congratulations, lieutenant. I have to take you out to dinner
to celebrate your promotion. Is that a promotion to shift com
mander?”

“I am second-shift property room supervisor,” Tamia said.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing for me?”

“Don’t worry. Our relationship won’t change.”

“So you’re at work now?”

“I am. You need something? Of course you do, why else would you be calling.”

Black started to say something flirtatious, but he glanced at Carmen, considered her jealous streak, and decided against it. “I need an address for a Jeannette Winters.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I’m just surprised that’s all,” Tamia said and typed the name into the computer. “You usually want bigger things than that.”

“Next time I call, it will be for something a little more intense,” Black said, unable to resist a chance to flirt. It was in his blood.

“Intense, hmm; I like the sound of that,” Tamia said as the results of her inquiry came up on screen. “Okay, there are five of them in the five boroughs. Anything to narrow it down?”

“Hold on,” Black said and turned to Carmen. “There are five of them. Anyway to narrow it down?”

“She’s a patron of arts; so have the
lieutenant
check for anybody with an upscale address.”

“She’s got money,” Black told Tamia.

“I got one on East 83
^rd
.”

“Let’s start with that one; but keep the list for me just in case.”

Tamia gave Black the address, and he and Carmen caught a cab there. Not wanting the doorman to announce them, Black went around to the back of the building. Once he disabled the alarm, he proceeded to pick the lock. “You always were a thief,” Carmen mused, and she watched him work.

“Ain’t that why you take me along on these little missions; because of my unique skill set?”

“I bring you along because you’re cute,” Carmen said as he opened the door, and stepped aside to allow her to enter. They made their way around to the elevator and went to the thirty-fourth floor.

Carmen knocked on the door. A woman answered, and was startled when she saw who it was. “Jeanette Winters?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Carmen Taylor.”

“I know who you are,” Mrs. Winters said.

“Can we come in?”

Without answering, Mrs. Winters stepped aside and let them in. She was an attractive woman in her early forties. She led them into the living room. “Won’t you sit down?”

Carmen and Black sat down on the couch, while Mrs. Winters sat in a chair across from them. “This is my producer, Dixon Steele,” Carmen said.

“Mr. Steele,” she said graciously, and picked up the glass she was drinking from.

Now that the pleasantries were out of the way, Carmen got right to her point. “It was you that called me and said that you were with Tangela House the night she was murdered wasn’t it?”

“Yes. How did you find me?”

“You were seen with Tangela House on the gallery security video.”

“And we tried to be so careful not to be seen together.”

“Who is the man you were with?” Carmen asked.

“My husband, Jack,” Mrs. Winters said and got up. She walked over to her bar. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“No, thank you,” Carmen said quickly and glanced at Black.

“You don’t mind if I have one?”

“Not at all,” Black said and glanced at Carmen. “Is your husband here?”

“No, he’s out of town on business.” Mrs. Winters poured herself a drink and returned to her chair.

“Can you tell me what happened that night?” Carmen asked.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Have the police seen the video that you saw?”

“They have,” Carmen replied.

“Then why are you here instead of them?” Mrs. Winters needed to know.

“I can’t answer that,” Carmen said.

“But sooner or later they’ll be coming, won’t they?”

“Yes, Mrs. Winters, they will,” Black said. “So why don’t you tell us your side of the story, so we can get it out there when they do come for you. Because I can pretty much guarantee you that they
are
coming. They may be slow getting here, but they are thorough.”

Mrs. Winters took a big shallow of her drink. “We, my husband Jack and I, met Tish at the gallery.”

“Did you know her before that night?” Carmen asked.

“Yes. As I told you, Tish was a call girl and we’d used her several times in the past. We were both comfortable with her.”

“Go on, Mrs. Winters,” Black said getting into his role as Carmen’s producer. “Tell us what happened that night.”

She finished her drink and put the glass down. “I guess there is no delicate way to say this, so I’ll just say it. I’m a bit of a voyeur.” Mrs. Winters paused. “I like watching my husband have sex with other women in places where we may get caught. And I masturbate while I’m watching,” she said, waiting for either Carmen or Black to say something.

Black and Carmen just sort of glanced at one another, but were both caught off guard by that admission, because that was the last thing either of them was expecting to hear. When neither of them said anything, Mrs. Winters continued, “I had been to the gallery many times, so I knew the layout of the building; and with the event opening that night, I was certain that we wouldn’t be disturbed. I told Tish where to go, and after awhile, Jack and I followed her up there.”

“What happened then?” Carmen asked, almost on the edge of her seat. “Did things just get out of hand; did Jack just get carried away and—”

“No!” Mrs. Winters shouted. “You’ve got to believe me, Jack didn’t kill her. I admit that he had sex with her. But after the sex was over, we left Tish up there and we went back downstairs.” Mrs. Winters sprang to her feet and went back to the bar to get another drink. “You’ve got to believe me, Carmen; Tish was alive when we left her.”

“Tell us what happened then?” Carmen urged.

“We were waiting in the gallery for Tish to come out so we could leave. We were going to come back here and—but when her body was discovered, we panicked and left the gallery because we knew how it would look. But I swear to you, we didn’t kill her.”

Carmen looked at Black. “I believe you, Mrs. Winters.”

“What happens now?” Mrs. Winters asked.

“Well—” Carmen started, but Black cut her off quickly.

“Nothing. For the time being, we’re all going to forget that we ever had this conversation, and hope that the police don’t come to your door like we did. But if they do, you should consider not telling them the same story you just told us. Let them tell you what happened that night,” Black advised.

“The police aren’t going to believe that we didn’t kill her, are they?”

“No, they’re not. They’re gonna wanna close their case. You and Jack had opportunity to commit the murder. They can match Jack’s DNA to the sample they most likely have. They’re going to arrest you and Jack for murder.”

“You sound like a cop,” Mrs. Winters said.

“No ma’am. I just know a thing or two about murder,” Black said.

After hearing Mrs. Winters’s story, Black and Carmen left her apartment and took the elevator down. This time they left through the front door. The doorman looked surprised to see them because he didn’t remember them going up.

“Have a good night,” Carmen said as she passed.

“You should check your back door,” Black said and laughed; but just a little.

Once they were outside, Black hailed a cab. He opened the door for Carmen and got in behind her.