Evil In Carnations (2 page)

“Like we almost did
twice
Saturday night.” Marco tilted my chin and kissed me, a deep, hot, stirring kiss that made me glad there were no smoke alarms directly overhead.

Somehow he managed to unlock the door, back me inside, drag our bags in with his foot, close the door,
and
lock it without breaking our kiss. I dropped my peacoat and purse on the floor and we began fumbling at each other’s clothing, still kissing hot and heavy.

All at once, someone pounded on the door, shouting, “New Chapel police. Open up!”

With a gasp I jumped back as though I’d done something illegal. Our watchcat, Simon, who had just come around the corner to greet us, arched his back menacingly at the disturbance, then changed his mind and fled the scene, his claws skittering on the hallway tile. Some protector he was.

“What’s going on?” Marco exclaimed, buttoning his shirt as he started for the door.

“Could it be Reilly playing some stupid joke? But how would he have gotten into the building without our buzzing him in?”

Marco peered through the peephole, muttered about the bulb being out, then flipped the switch for my front hallway light and opened the door, leaving the chain in place. “It’s not Reilly,” he said quietly, so I ducked beneath his arm to peer through the crack.

Two men in blue uniforms stood outside, neither of whom was our buddy, Sergeant Sean Reilly of the New Chapel Police Department. One cop appeared to be in his mid-thirties, about five years older than Marco. The other had a boyish build, a smooth baby face, and a belligerent stance that young cops often adopt to make them seem experienced.

Quickly, I backed out of sight. What had I done this time?

“What’s up?” Marco asked nonchalantly. Men in uniform didn’t intimidate him. He’d served on the New Chapel police force for about a year after his Army Ranger days—until all the rules and regulations, as well as a vindictive watch commander, got to him.

“We’re looking for Nikki Hiduke,” a mature voice said.

Nikki? That was novel.

“What business do you have with Nikki?” Marco asked.

“Is she here or not?” a tenor voice demanded. The younger officer was clearly unwilling to divulge any info. He probably had no clue he was talking to an ex-cop.

“She might be here,” Marco replied coolly.

Just to be sure, I looked around and spotted Nikki’s keys on the table.

“Is it all right if we step inside?” the deep voice asked politely. “You might not want the neighbors in on this.”

Yikes. That didn’t sound good.

Marco unchained the door, pulled it open, and stepped back to allow them to enter, putting me in full view. Out in the hallway, Mr. Bodenhammer, the building superintendent, tried to get a peek inside before Marco shut the door, solving the mystery as to how the police got in.

“How’s it going, Pete?” Marco said, obviously recognizing the older cop.

“Business as usual. That’s why we’re here.”

“Are you Nikki?” the rookie asked me. He was definitely new to the force, because only a newbie would see my bright red hair and freckles and not know who I was. Not that I was a celebrity or anything. More like the town’s trouble magnet.

“I’m Abby Knight,” I said. “Nikki’s my roommate.”

“You’re the florist, right?” the cop named Pete asked.

It was such a pleasure to hear myself labeled as something other than “the troublemaker who flunked out of law school” that I nodded eagerly. In a college town like mine, being a flunk-out was the equivalent of being the village idiot.

“Yeah, I thought that was you.” To his partner he added, “She’s the one keeps sticking her nose into police business.”

“Excuse me,” I said, taking exception to his remark. “I helped solve a few murder cases by sticking my nose into police business. And I’ll have you know that my dad was a sergeant on the police force before a drug dealer’s bullet put him out of commission.”

“Abby,” Marco said quietly, laying a hand on my arm as though he feared I might take a swing at the guy. Although I measured in at a mere five feet, two inches, Marco knew that I knew how to throw a punch.

At that moment, Nikki came around the corner sleepily rubbing her eyes, her spiked blond hair sticking up more than usual. She’d tied her purple robe tightly around her tall, slender body and stuck her feet into giant dark purple slippers, making her long legs look like cocktail picks capped by kalamata olives.

“What’s all the noise about?” she asked with a yawn.

Marco glanced around in surprise, then gave me a pointed look, obviously remembering my comment about the smoke alarms. Okay, so she was awakened by smoke alarms
and
police raids.

“Nikki Hiduke?” The younger cop tried again.

She squinted at him, unable to see anything without her contacts but blurred shapes. “Yes?”

He showed her his badge, which she had to bring up close to her face. “Would you get your coat and come with us to the police station, please? We have some questions we’d like to ask you.”

She looked from one to the other in confusion. “In my pajamas?”

I knew Nikki wasn’t completely awake or she would have asked a far more pertinent question, which was exactly what Marco did: “You want to tell us what this is about?” he said.

I stepped in front of Nikki in a valiant act of self-sacrifice. “And why does she have to go with you to answer questions? Why can’t you talk to her here?”

“We need to talk to her,” the rookie said immediately, thumbs hooked in his thick leather belt, “down at the
station.
”

“I got that part the first time,” I said. “But what about? She has the right to know.”

“I don’t hear
her
asking,” the rookie fired back. He was starting to get on my nerves.

“Nikki, ask them why they want to talk to you,” Marco instructed.

As she opened her mouth to speak, the rookie said, “She’s wanted for questioning in a homicide.”

At that, Nikki and I both opened our mouths, but only to gasp. I turned and met her shocked stare, and she gave me a look that said,
I don’t have a clue what’s going on.

“Do you know a man by the name of Jonas Treat?” Pete the cop asked her.

“Yes,” she answered. The name rang a bell with me, but I couldn’t place it.

“He was murdered during the night,” the rookie announced, looking very pleased for having that information.

Nikki gasped again. I whispered to her, “Is Jonas Treat the guy with the Ferrari from the speed-dating event?”

She gave me a quick nod.

“How was he murdered?” Marco asked the cops.

“You know I can’t give you that information, Salvare,” Pete said. “You’re a civilian now.”

“Nikki doesn’t need to go down to the station to answer your questions,” I told Pete. “She met this man only briefly last Thursday night at a social event. Tell them, Nikki.”

My roommate merely put a hand over her mouth, as if in shock.

“Nikki,” I urged, “tell them.”

“Yes,” said the younger cop, with a sly gleam in his eye. “And while you’re at it, tell us where you were last night.”

Bewildered, I glanced at her and noticed that her face had taken on an ashen hue, as though she might throw up. What was going on?

“Nikki, you don’t have to answer any questions,” Marco said quietly. “Just state that you want your lawyer present.”

“Were you with a man named Jonas Treat yesterday evening?” Pete asked anyway.

When she merely stared at them, I whispered, “What’s wrong with you? Tell them no.”

She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Abby.”

Sorry?

“Okay,” Pete said, stepping toward Nikki. “Get your coat and let’s go.”

Suddenly I got it: Nikki
had
gone out with Jonas—in spite of my best efforts to warn her away from him. “Oh, Nikki, you didn’t!”

“I couldn’t help it, Abby. Jonas was—”

“Nikki,” Marco snapped, causing her to jump, “don’t say another word.”

She looked perplexed. “I was only going to say he was—”

Marco put up his hand to stop her. “
Anything
you say can be used against you. Abby is going to call Dave Hammond and have him meet you at the station.” Marco turned toward Pete. “Is it okay if she puts on some decent clothes first?”

“And my c-contact lenses?” Nikki asked, visibly trembling.

The younger cop tapped the face of his watch. “We’ll give you five minutes. I’ll be right outside your door, so don’t even think about sneaking out a window.”

As if Nikki would ever do that. Now, me, that was a different story.

“I told you that speed-dating thing was a bad idea,” Marco murmured in my ear.

My stomach knotted as I watched poor Nikki lead the young cop through our small living room, heading for the hallway. Just before stepping out of sight, the rookie turned to give me a glare, as though I might be plotting her escape.

“Abby, you want to make that call now?” Marco asked.

I raced off to use the phone in our tiny galley kitchen, huddling in the far corner by the refrigerator so as not to be overheard. At Dave’s answer, I said, “Hi, it’s Abby. I hope I didn’t wake you, but the cops are taking Nikki down to the station for questioning in a murder, and—”

“Slow down, Abby; I just woke up. Your
roommate
Nikki? The girl who looks like Bambi?”

“That’s the one. Nikki met this guy at a speed-dating event a few days ago, Dave, and apparently went out with him last night—against my advice, let me just say right up front—and then he was killed sometime after that, and now the cops think she had something to do with—”

“Abby! Take a breath before you pass out.”

I followed his advice and gulped air. “Will you meet her at the police station, Dave? Quickly? Before the cops pressure her into answering questions?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Make sure you instruct her not to talk to anyone.”

“I will. Thanks, Dave. You’re a champ.”

Dave truly was a champion attorney. During my year of law school, I was fortunate enough to clerk for him, an experience that taught me many invaluable lessons, such as what a good lawyer was supposed to be like—and it wasn’t filing a bunch of trivial motions with the court in order to rack up huge client fees. Thank goodness for that now, because who knew what Nikki’s legal costs would be if Dave ended up having to defend her in a murder case.

I pressed my fingers to my temples, forcing my thoughts to stop right there, because surely it would never come to that.

M
arco stood beside me, rubbing my neck, as the cops filed past with Nikki in tow.

“You’ll be fine,” Marco told her. “Dave will be there soon. Just don’t answer any questions or make any statements until you talk to him, okay?”

Nikki gave him a nod but didn’t say a word. Her face was so pale and pinched that I wanted to weep. She had been my best friend since third grade, yet suddenly I felt as though I barely knew her at all. Why had she ignored my advice? Was Jonas’s charisma so strong that he could make her forget my warning?

“Wait!” I cried, bringing the parade to a halt. “I need to have a minute alone with Nikki. May I? Have a minute? Please?”

The rookie was ready to tell me to take a hike, but Pete relented. “One minute.”

I pulled Nikki away from them to whisper, “Did Jonas ask you to go out while we were at the speed-dating event?”

“He hinted that he might call me.”

“So you gave him your phone number? Nikki! You weren’t supposed to give out personal information.”

She sighed unhappily. “I know.”

“Damn it, I told you he was trouble. Thanks for listening!”

Nikki looked down, her jaw muscles tightening.

I gripped her arm and forced her to look at me. “Did anything happen on your date? Did you have an argument or did he get too aggressive? Did he hit you or take advantage of you?”

She gave me a hurt look. “No! Why are you asking me that?”

“I need to know if there’s anything else you haven’t shared with me, anything you did that could cause the cops to think you had a hand in his death.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with Jonas’s death, Abby,” she replied in a sharp whisper. “We went to dinner. That was it.”

“You’re sure?”

She nodded.

“Okay,” Pete called, “let’s go.”

Impulsively, I threw my arms around her and gave her a reassuring hug, then stepped back, blinking tears from my eyes as the cops led her away. As soon as the door had shut behind them, I went to the window and waited for them to appear on the street below.

“I can’t believe this is happening, Marco. Nikki is the sweetest, gentlest, most nonmurderous person I know. Who could possibly think that she’s capable of ending someone’s life?”

“Everyone is capable of ending someone’s life, Sunshine,” Marco said in a matter-of-fact voice, coming to stand beside me.

“I’m not. Nor is Nikki.”

“You wouldn’t shoot someone to defend yourself? Or to protect a loved one?”

“I’m not talking about
that
kind of situation. My point is that even if Jonas had acted like a jerk to her, Nikki wouldn’t kill him. She’d get up and leave.”

“Maybe he threatened her in some way.”

I stared at him in surprise. “Are you saying she might be guilty?”

“Abby, come on. I’m just saying you don’t know the circumstances.”

“That’s why I asked to talk to Nikki just now. She said straight out that they went to dinner and that was it. If there was anything else, she would have told me.”

Marco rubbed his jaw. “For the cops to come in like gangbusters at six in the morning, they had to have strong feelings about Nikki’s role in the murder—either some convincing evidence came to light or they received a tip—because they only do that to catch people unawares and scare them into revealing something incriminating.”