Cold Case Cop (3 page)

Alex shoved his hand in his pocket. “I’m glad to hear that. Is my grandmother here?”

His grandmother, Gertrude Elizabeth Kirkland, and her four oldest friends met each Monday for a very serious game of gin rummy. The ladies could afford to bet big and they always did. But no matter who won or lost, the pot always went to St. Michael’s Children’s Charities.

Danny nodded. “She and the ladies are at their regular table.”

“Thanks.”

Danny glanced at Alex’s open collar. “Excuse me, Mr. K., but you don’t have a tie.”

Alex reached for his collar. He’d taken his tie off after Mackey had left because it had suddenly felt so confining. “I left it in my desk.”

“You got to have a tie in the main room.”

“I know.” As a teenager, Alex had hated the club’s mandatory tie rule. These days, remembering those petty rebellions made him smile. “Do you have an extra one that I could borrow?”

Danny smiled as he pulled a red tie out from under his desk and handed it to Alex. “How’s that?”

“Perfect.” Alex wrapped the tie around his neck and quickly wound it into a Windsor knot.

In the main dining room, round tables covered in starched white linens hosted dozens of different people who all looked very much alike. The women wore couture and the men sported handmade suits. A deep red carpet covered wood floors, drapes framed large floor-to-ceiling glass windows and an enormous crystal chandelier hung from the center of the room. Soft piano music played in the background, melding into the polite conversations, the clink of glasses and the subtle activities of the waitstaff.

The eastern wall of the room was glass, and gave a stunning view of the bay. Blue sky and clear water set off the sails of a dozen white sailboats. When he’d been in ICU, he’d promised himself that he would sail more when he recovered. And he had. He’d spent the last two weeks on the water. The boat had been yare and the weather stunning, but he’d found that sailing alone became tedious.

Alex headed to the large table in the back of the room. It was his grandmother’s favorite table.

His grandmother had a Katharine Hepburn style that set her apart from her peers. Even at seventy-six her mind was sharp, and no one made a move at the club without her knowing it. He’d exhausted all conventional investigation methods after Kit had vanished. No tactic had revealed anything that cracked the case. Today, he thought he’d try a different approach.

Right after Kit’s disappearance, Gertie had been in France, so he’d not questioned her, but now he realized she could give him a different perspective on the case.

Gertie’s friends flanked her left and right. All wore suits in varying shades of red or blue, pearls around their necks and their white hair coiffed into tight curls.

Peering over turquoise reading glasses on her nose, Gertie frowned down at the cards in her hand. “Evelyn, I believe it’s your turn to deal.”

Evelyn, the woman to Gertie’s right, leaned forward and took the pile of cards. “This time you are not going to win.”

Gertie laughed. “We’ll see.”

Alex cleared his throat. “Gertie.”

His grandmother glanced up and immediately smiled. “Alex, what a pleasant surprise! Ladies, you remember my grandson,
Detective
Alex Kirkland.”

The emphasis on
detective s
poke to Gertie’s support of his chosen profession. She was the only one in the family who’d approved of his decision.

Alex leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “How are you?”

Pride glinted in her eyes. “Excellent. I am winning hand over fist today.”

He smiled at the other ladies. “Watch out, ladies. She cheats.”

The women laughed. Gertie appeared offended. “Alex, I know you didn’t drive across town to question my card skills.”

“Can’t I just come to visit my grandmother?”

Gertie chuckled. “Darling, the club drives you insane. You come here only to get your boat. You never come in the main room and mingle.”

Alex no longer felt as if he fit in here. He and the club members had less and less in common as the years passed.

He pulled up a seat and sat beside her. It felt good to have the weight off his leg. A waiter appeared and offered coffee, which he accepted.

“I’m looking into a case from last year. I was hoping you and your friends might be able to help.”

Across the table, Evelyn dealt the next hand of gin rummy. “This sounds exciting. We’ll help in any way we can.”

The other women nodded.

Gertie removed her glasses. “We are all yours, my dear.”

Alex loosened his tie. “Remember Kit Westgate?”

Each woman’s face tightened, including Gertie’s. “She’s a hard woman to forget.”

“What can you tell me about her?”

Gertie traced the rim of her half-full sherry glass with her fingertip. “West Coast money. Stunningly beautiful. Men could barely think straight when she was in the room. She had a way of making them fall under her spell just by the toss of her head or a smile.”

Alex shifted, remembering his own reaction to Kit. “And?”

“I didn’t like the woman,” Gertie said. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but she could be a cold-hearted manipulator. She could be quite unkind to Pierce. Granted he was a big boy and could take care of himself, but she had him completely wrapped around her finger and could make him do anything. It was rather sad to see.”

That description contrasted what her chauffeur had told him last year. Borelli had described Pierce as abusive.

Evelyn picked up her cards and started to arrange them. “Remember the incident after the Founders’ Ball last year?”

Gertie wrinkled her nose. “Kit got into a fight with the ladies’ room attendant. She didn’t realize I was in the last stall. Anyway, for a moment that cultured, smooth voice of hers slipped. For just a moment, she sounded very common. After that I never believed she was who she said she was.”

“What were they arguing about?”

“Some woman named Brenda. I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Pierce said he did a complete background check on her,” Alex said. “In fact, he was quite helpful to the police, and supplied us with West Coast contacts.”

“He did check her out completely,” Gertie said. “He is a thorough man so he should know. And she did sign a prenup, so he was happy. According to the prenup, she wouldn’t get a dime if she left him.”

Across the table Roddie Talbot ran her finger along her neat strand of pearls. “Kit was quite chummy with her driver.”

“Do you think they were having an affair?” Alex asked. The chauffeur had a record and had been a prime suspect until he’d produced ten witnesses who’d sworn he was in New York City.

“Who’s to say if they were lovers?” Gertie said. “But I can tell you he was quite protective of Kit.”

A clamor of noise had Alex lifting his head. He glanced toward the main entrance and saw a tall blond woman enter. She was wearing a Channel suit that matched her ice-blue eyes.

Regina. His ex-wife. Damn.

As if sensing Alex’s presence, the blonde’s gaze settled on him. Thin lips spread into a wide grin, and she brushed by the man she was with and hurried toward Alex, her arms open. “Alex!”

He had started dating Regina at Princeton, but they’d known of each other since preschool. Their union had thrilled his parents and been an anticipated step after college graduation. After he and Regina had married, Alex had dutifully attended law school, and Regina took her place in society, filling her days with committee meetings and lunches. Their marriage had been happy enough until Alex’s cousin had died and Alex had chosen to join the police force. Regina had been furious. They’d fought bitterly. In the end, she’d asked him to choose between her and the career. He’d chosen the force.

Tension crept up Alex’s spine as he rose. He hadn’t seen Regina since just before the shooting, when she’d called him out of the blue. She’d just broken up with her latest boyfriend and he’d just solved the murder of a young boy. He’d allowed her to charm him and they had ended up in her bed. When he awoke the next morning, he knew he’d made a terrible mistake. She’d spoken of reconciliation. When he’d refused, she jetted off to Europe. Two days later, he was shot.

Two weeks ago she’d shown up at his home with a bottle of champagne and a gourmet meal made by her cook. She’d tried to rekindle their relationship again. This time he’d had the good sense to say no.

Regina’s sweet perfume coiled around him as she kissed him on the cheek. “Alex, how are you?”

“Doing well.”

“You look wonderful,” she said, holding him at arm’s distance and studying him. “Tell me you’ve given up any notion of returning to police work.”

Nothing had really changed between them. “I started back today.”

She pouted. “What a waste of good talent. I spoke to your brother Brandon the other day. He’d love to have you in the company.”

Gertie drummed impatient manicured fingers on the table’s white linen. “How goes plans for the Founders’ Ball? It’s less than a week away.”

Regina brightened. She brushed an imaginary bit of lint from his shoulder, something she’d done a lot when they’d been married. “Excellent. We will transform this place tomorrow. It’s a Monte Carlo theme this year.”

“Wonderful,” Gertie said.

His ex-wife missed the sarcasm in his grandmother’s voice. The two had never gotten on well.

Alex decided to turn this meeting into an opportunity. “Regina, what do you remember about Kit Westgate?”

The blonde smiled. “Lovely woman. Such a sense of style. I would have killed for her skin.”

“Anything unusual you remember about her?” Alex said.

“There was this one time when we were in New York shopping about eighteen months ago. We were on Fifth Avenue in Saks. Anyway, this shopgirl came up to Kit, hugged her and called her Brenda.” Regina shuddered. “We were all shocked. Kit was furious. She told the woman that she was mistaken, and we left immediately.”

Brenda.
Gertie had heard Kit arguing about a woman named Brenda. “Could it have been a case of mistaken identity?”

Regina nodded. “That’s what I thought. But it was strange. The woman was convinced that Kit was this Brenda.”

“Anything else you remember about Kit?”

“No. Why are you asking? The woman has been dead for a year.”

“I’m looking into the case. A loose end that’s always troubled me.”

Regina checked her diamond watch, caught sight of a male friend across the room and waved. “Honestly, Alex, why you would worry about an old case is beyond me. Kit is yesterday.”

Understanding each other had been one of the major faults of their marriage. “Thanks, Regina.”

She hooked her arm in his. “Walk me to my car?”

“Sure.” Alex glanced at Gertie and her friends. They shamelessly stared at the duo. None looked happy. “Ladies, thank you for your help.” He kissed Gertie on the cheek. “Call me if you think of anything else.”

“Of course, my dear,” Gertie said.

Alex escorted Regina out of the club, aware that a half-dozen sets of eyes followed him. She was the darling of the club. He was the black sheep of his family and social set. No doubt everyone would be talking about him and his ex for days as whispers of reconciliation swirled. The club was like a small town where everyone knew everyone else’s business.

When they came out on the portico, Alex spotted Tara’s Toyota parked at the top of the circular drive. He glanced around, wondering where she lurked.

Regina tightened her hold on his arm. “Alex, darling, we really should get together again soon. It’s been too long.”

Regina was beautiful, and sex with her was always passionate if a bit lonely. It would be easy to fall into bed with her but he knew he’d be fooling himself and her if they did.

“Hey, sport!”

Tara Mackey’s familiar voice caught Alex by surprise. He turned toward the east end of the building. A club security guard, who was an off-duty cop named Jimmy Rogers, was hauling Tara away from the club. She was trying to dig in her heels and pull against him, but resisting Jimmy was like trying to stop an avalanche. The guy was six-five and weighed close to two hundred and fifty pounds.

“You’re gonna have to leave, ma’am,” Jimmy said. His voice was calm. “This club is for members only.”

“Let go of me, pal!” Tara shouted. “I told you I only need five minutes.”

Jimmy kept pulling her toward the driveway. “No way.”

A smile tipped the edge of Alex’s lips. Regina was a beautiful woman, but compared to Tara she seemed spiritless and ordinary.

“Regina, if you will excuse me, I see a friend.” He ignored her pout and headed toward Tara.

“Ma’am,” Jimmy said. “You aren’t allowed in the club.”

“This is a free country. Free speech is in the Bill of Rights,” Tara said. “I just want to talk to a few people.”

The guard released Tara abruptly and she stumbled back. She barely caught herself before she fell on her backside.

Jimmy folded thick arms over his chest. “Leave or I call the cops.”

“Look, man, I just want to talk to Mrs. Talbot. I promise I won’t be a problem. I’ll be in and out in five.”

The guard reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a cell phone. “I’m dialing the cops.”

Tara’s bravado faltered.

“Jimmy,” Alex said, moving toward them. “What’s the problem here?”

Jimmy’s scowl softened. “Hey, Detective Kirkland. How you doing? No problem here. I was just about to have this reporter arrested for trespassing.”

Tara glanced up at Alex. And for just a second her face colored as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Alex took Tara’s arm. “You don’t have to worry about Ms. Mackey. I’ve got this under control.”

Jimmy seemed grateful to be done with Tara. “Thanks, Detective.”

Tara’s expression turned glib. “Friends in high places, pal.”

Jimmy shrugged and returned to his post back in the club.

Alex pulled Tara away. “Don’t push your luck.”

Tara followed until they were out of earshot and then jerked her arm free. “Thanks, Kirkland. I’m not sure where you came from but I appreciate the help. Now I have to figure out how to get into that club.”