Book Club Killer (5 page)

Chapter 11

The next morning, I called the
office, told my boss what had happened and asked if I could work from home for
a couple of days. Since I’d been enjoying a particularly successful run lately—signing
new clients and increasing orders with several existing accounts—Liz instantly
agreed. “We’ll be fine here,” she’d assured me. “If I have questions, I’ll send
you a text, okay? Just take care of yourself, Jana. Let me know if you need
anything.”

After talking to my boss, I dialed
Detective Ford. When he answered and heard my voice, he launched into an
exhaustive explanation of why he hadn’t yet returned my call from the day
before.

“It’s okay,” I told him. “I get
that you’re busy. But I need to talk to you about Rosemary.”

“Can it wait until this afternoon?”
he asked. “I caught another new case and need to examine the crime scene. A
couple of our guys are out sick with some bug, so I’m doing double duty. I was
just walking out the door when you called.”

I detected something indifferent in
his voice, but figured maybe it was fatigue and nerves on my part. I agreed to
meet him at the police station later in the day, and started to briefly
describe what I’d learned about Sonja’s brother when the line went dead.

“Jeez, buddy,” I muttered to
myself. “You’re either overworked or just plain rude!”

My husband heard the last part of
my grumbling. “Who was that?” he asked. “You’ve got the same look on your face
as when your mother starts asking about when we’re going to have another baby.”

I smiled and shook my head. “It was
the detective investigating Rosemary’s murder.”

“So?” Ben said. “Why do you look
unhappy?”

“He was kind of short with me just
now.” I shrugged and rolled my eyes. “But I think there’s a chance I’m
overreacting a bit. You know—from the stress?”

“Did he call you or—”

“I called him,” I said urgently. “I’m
not going to just sit by and do nothing, especially if I hear a clue that could
be helpful. I wanted to tell Detective Ford about Sonja’s brother, but he was
in a hurry. I’m going down to the station later to talk.”

Ben walked over and began kneading
my shoulders. “Babe, you need to slow down, okay? Let the police do their jobs.
You’ve just been through a horrible shock. The last thing you need is going ten
rounds with a police detective because you don’t think he’s solving the case
fast enough.”

“That’s not what I said! I just
think he needs to know about Sonja’s brother.”

“Of course,” Ben agreed. “I’m not
arguing that point. I just don’t want you to get any more stressed.” He went to
the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water and the lunch that I’d packed
earlier. “I’ve got a meeting at nine, so I need to hustle. But if you need me,
just call, okay?”

I nodded and stared at my phone.

“Did Jill drive the boys to
school?”

I answered with another silent nod.

“Are you picking them up after?” my
husband asked. “Or should I?”

“No, Jill said she’d take care of
it. When she saw my face, she could tell I was pretty stressed.”

My phone buzzed with a text from
Sonja:
Can you talk now?

“I love you,” Ben said, heading out
the door.

I blew him a kiss. “Love you, too.”

After he was gone, I tapped a quick
reply to Sonja:
Yes. Home all morning.
Then I flicked through the
messages on my phone. I found one that Rosemary sent a few days earlier:
What
can I bring for book club?
When I realized that I’d never replied, I felt a
new wave of sorrow sweep through my heart.

“We’re going to figure this out,” I
said, picturing her sweet smile in my mind. “Beginning with who was responsible
and why they—”

My phone rang and I jumped,
startled by the loud, shrill sound.

“How are you?” Sonja asked when I
clicked onto the line.

“Pretty scattered. I got some
sleep, but I had terrible dreams about Rosemary.”

“I barely slept,” Sonja said. “My
brother didn’t come home last night. And now I can’t stop thinking about what
you told me.”

“Is that what you’re calling
about?” I asked.

“I know where he is,” she said.
“And I think maybe they had something to do with Rosemary’s death.”

“Who is it?” I asked. “Did you tell
Detective Ford?”

“No,” Sonja said. “I will, but
first I want to see if my suspicions are right.”

“Just call him,” I advised. “He
needs to know anything and everything that we—”

“This is my brother we’re talking
about,” Sonja blurted. “And I’m not going to throw him to the wolves unless I
do a little digging. He’s had enough trouble in his life. He doesn’t need me
creating more by snooping around.”

I wanted to tell her to stop being
ridiculous. But I knew that Sonja’s stubborn streak was a mile wide and ten
miles deep. Once she set her mind to something, there was no convincing her to
take another approach.

“Well, where is he?” I asked. “And
who do you think he’s with?”

“Come with me,” Sonja said.

“When?”

“I can be there by eleven,” she
answered. “Does that give you enough time?”

Chapter 12

Sonja pulled into a gravel parking
lot on the edge of an industrial complex near the river that ran through town.
There were a handful of cars outside the two-story building. A sign perched on
the roof read
RUSTY RED’S RIVER BOAT
. A chorus line of curvy
silhouettes—dancing in front of the words
GIRLS, GIRLS, GIRLS
—made it
clear the place was a strip club.

“You think your brother’s here?” I
asked hesitantly.

Sonja nodded. “He’s been hanging
out with the guy that owns this place. His name’s Brent. They went to school
together.”

“College?” I didn’t think Sonja’s
brother was much of a student, but figured maybe I shouldn’t judge a book by
its cover.

“High school,” she answered.
“They’re perfectly suited to one another; two idiots who don’t think things
like rules and laws apply to them.”

“Brent must be doing something
right if he owns Rusty Red’s,” I said. “Everybody in town has heard of the
place, even if it’s not very high on the list of socially acceptable establishments.”

Sonja laughed. It was good to hear
the sound after two days of sorrow and grief.

“Brent’s dad started the Rusty
Red’s,” she explained. “When he died, Brent inherited the place.”

“And why do you think your brother’s
here?” I asked, scanning the parking lot. “Do you see his car?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want Warren
to know this, but I put an app on his phone. It tracks him with GPS. When he
didn’t come home last night, I pinged his location.”

My eyes went wide with surprise.
“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. If he’s sleeping under my
roof and driving our other car, I have every right to know where he is when he
doesn’t come home at night.”

I agreed with the logic, but
secretly installing a tracking app on her brother’s phone seemed really out of
character for Sonja. She was usually mild-mannered and demure; I’d never heard
her raise her voice in all the time we’d known one another. Even so, besides
being secretive, the GPS sleuthing also seemed more complicated than necessary.

“Wouldn’t calling him have been
much easier?” I asked.

She smiled. “Don’t you think I
already tried that? I left about a dozen messages, but he never picked up and
he hasn’t called me back.”

“Okay, but why the urgency?” I
asked. “Why are you so intent on finding him?”

She sighed and tapped her nails on
the steering wheel. “Because of what you told me.” She slid one hand down to
the keys and pulled them from the ignition. “If Warren had
anything
to
do with Rosemary’s death, I want him out of my house and into police custody.”

“Well, I’m not trying to disagree
with you,” I said. “But don’t you think it could wait?” I nodded my head at the
canopied entrance to the strip club. “This isn’t exactly our comfort zone, you
know.”

She opened her car door. “I’m not
worried about that. I’ve known Brent forever. If he isn’t behind the bar,
somebody will get him out of the office.”

I followed Sonja toward the double
glass doors under the bright red awning. Like nearly everyone in town, I was
aware of Rusty Red’s River Boat. But I’d never imagined that one day I would
step inside to find my friend’s brother and ask if he knew anything about a
murder.

“Well, look at this,” drawled the
skinny guy polishing shot glasses behind the bar. “I’m gonna need to ask for
some identification, ladies.” He winked at Sonja. “You know how the authorities
frown on underage drinkers coming into my high-class establishment.”

Sonja pulled a stool out. “Cut the
crap, Brent.” She sat down and nodded for me to do the same. “You know I’m a
lot older than you.”

“And wiser, too,” he said, tossing
the towel over one shoulder. “What’s going on, Sonja? You on the hunt for Warren?”

“I thought he might be here,” she
said.

Brent raised one eyebrow. “He’s
facedown on the sofa in my office,” he said. “Stupid sucker lost a bet last
night. Ended up drinking more than his fair share of whiskey.”

Sonja shook her head. “Why am I not
surprised?”

Brent smiled at me. “How you doin’,
beautiful?”

“This is my friend Jana,” Sonja
said, snapping her fingers to draw his gaze back in her direction. “She and I
wanted to talk to my brother, and it couldn’t wait.”

“Be my guest,” the guy said,
pointing toward the opposite side of the bar. “If you can wake him up, you’re
one step ahead of me. I flicked his ear for a good twenty minutes, but it
didn’t do any good.”

A slender blonde carrying a rack of
glassware came through the swinging doors behind the bar. She glared at us, put
the glasses down and then walked over.

“We don’t open for another hour,”
she said, fixing her eyes on mine. “Y’all wanna come back then?”

Sonja sighed slowly, exhaling with
a muffled hiss like air escaping from a deflating tire. “We’re here to see
Brent,” she said. “But thank you so much for the update on your hours of
operation.”

The blonde narrowed her eyes.
“You’re welcome,” she said coldly before turning to Brent. “You okay, baby?”

He laughed. “If I wasn’t, what
would you do about it?”

She muttered under her breath, sauntered
back to the swinging door and then disappeared.

“That’s Darla,” said Brent. “She’s
got a tendency to be kinda overprotective.”

Sonja snickered. “Is that what
they’re calling it these days?” she asked. “In my world, that’s what we call
being a pushy witch.”

Brent winced. “Hey, now! There’s 
no need to throw names around. You and me are like family, Sonja.”

“Uh-huh,” she said. “Now, maybe if
my brother’s out cold, we can ask you a couple of questions?”

The guy grinned. “You betcha!
What’s on your mind, doll?”

“Don’t call me that,” Sonja said.

“My bad,” Brent offered. “I didn’t
mean no offense.”

“Is Warren working for you now?”
Sonja asked, ignoring the half-hearted apology.

“Nah, he’s doing some odd jobs for
a buddy of mine.”

“What kind of odd jobs?” I asked.

Brent’s eyes whirled over. “Ah, so
the beautiful woman speaks?”

“What kind of jobs?” I repeated.
“And does your buddy have a name?”

“Carter,” answered Brent.

“Is that his first name?” I asked.
“Or his last?”

The guy frowned. “You know
something? I’m not real sure. I just know him by Carter.”

“Must be close friends,” I said.

Sonja laughed softly. “What’s Warren
do for your friend Carter?” she asked. “And where’s his office?”

The question was met with a roar of
laughter. “Carter isn’t exactly the suit-and-tie kind of businessman,” said
Brent. “He runs a more laissez-faire kind of operation.”

“Is that code for criminal
behavior?” asked Sonja.

Brent held up both hands. “See no
evil,” he said. “And speak no evil.”

Sonja snorted. “Well, that leaves
doing
evil,” she said. “Which is probably a subject we better shy away from.”

Brent grabbed a cup of coffee from
near the cash register. He sipped it quickly before asking if we wanted anything
to drink.

“Sorry I didn’t think of it
sooner,” he said. “But you kind of caught me off guard when you walked through
the door just now.”

“We’re fine,” I said. “Why don’t
you tell us what you know about what Warren’s been up to?”

The muscles in Brent’s jaw
tightened. “You should probably discuss that with him. I’ve got my hands full
running this place, so I basically turn a blind eye.” He flashed a smile,
revealing teeth as white and smooth as the keys of a piano. “If you know what I
mean.”

“Where can we find Carter?” Sonja
asked.

Brent shook his head. “No clue. The
guy usually comes in a couple times a week though. If you want me to have him
call you, then you can—”

“Where?” Sonja said brusquely. “And
don’t try to weasel your way out of this, Brent. I’d hate to go talk to your
mom, but I will play that card if I need to. I’m serious about this. I don’t
want Warren getting arrested for murder.”

At the mention of homicide, Brent’s
face went blank. “Okay, now that’s something that I’m
definitely
not
interested in discussing.”

Sonja leaned forward. “Why? Because
you know something?”

He shrugged. “Come on, Sonja. Just
drop it, okay?”

“Then tell us where we can find
Carter.” She glared at him with icy precision. It was a side of my friend that
I’d seen before. “It’s as simple as an address,” she said. “Or the name of his
favorite dank, dark cave.”

One corner of Brent’s mouth lifted.
“That’s a good one,” he said. “You’ll know what I’m talking about when you meet
Carter.”

Sonja shook her head. “You like
wasting time?” she asked.

“Please,” I said. “Can you just
tell us where your friend Carter is?”

He looked over, nodded and opened a
drawer behind the bar. He came out with a business card. When he handed it to
Sonja, I noticed a bright red insignia and a few black words against a pristine
white background. It was a skull and crossbones above the name of a tattoo
parlor.

“That’s his place,” Brent said.
“It’s over on Ash and Highland.”

Sonja slipped the card into her
purse. “Thank you,” she said, sliding down from the barstool. “That wasn’t so
hard, was it?”

Brent made a face. “You want me to
see if your brother’s awake yet?”

“No, that’s okay,” Sonja answered.
“If he’s not home when I get back there later, I’ll figure he’s still sleeping
it off.”