Flipping Out (12 page)

'You're not OK,'
Kilcullen said. 'You can't breathe. Sit down.'

Charlie let us
ease him down to one of the white marble steps leading up to Nora's house. Two
EMS workers came running. We gave them some room.

'Can you guys
take it from here?' Kilcullen said. 'I've got BUTA, all the way up to the Top
Cop waiting to talk to me.'

'No problem,' I
said. 'Thanks for staying. It helped.'

He grunted
something that sounded positive, then made his way toward the sea of flashing
lights, where the brass was waiting to crawl up his ass.

Five minutes
later the same paramedic who was first on the scene gave us the report on
Charlie. 'His BP is high, rapid heartbeat, and I don't have a Breathalyzer, but
I recommend taking his car keys.'

'What about the
chest pains? He says it's just an anxiety attack.'

'Famous last
words,' the paramedic said. 'Look, he may be right. His wife was just killed,
he's way hyper, and his heart's in normal sinus rhythm, but he needs more than
a field cardio check-up. I want to take him to Cedars.'

'Keep him there
overnight,' I said. 'We'll have two of our guys follow you, just to make sure
he doesn't decide to check out early.'

Terry and I walked
over to talk to Charlie. He was sitting quietly inside the tail of the
ambulance.

'I can't begin
to tell you how sorry we are,' I said.

'I know,' he
said. 'Terry, I wasn't kidding. Marilyn is a partner. Make sure she's OK.'

'Thanks. I
will.'

'Charlie, you
need to get to a hospital,' I said.

He nodded. Total
acceptance.

'Stay overnight.
Terry and I will be there to talk to you in the morning.'

'Is there
anything I can tell you guys now,' he said, 'besides I didn't kill them?'

'We know you
didn't. Do you have any idea who did?'

He put his hand
over his eyes and shook his head. His body started shaking. The paramedic
tapped me on the shoulder, then drew his finger across his neck. The interview
was over.

We helped
Charlie into the ambulance and sent him off to the hospital. But first we took
his gun.

This time we
didn't even have to ask.

'Biggs!'

It was
Kilcullen.

'The chief
agrees. The motive on this case looks like it's about this real estate
business. If we issue a department-wide warning that our wives are all a
potential target, every one of them will wind up armed to the teeth.'

'Did you tell
him it was my idea?' Terry said.

'I was going to,
but then he said, "That's real smart thinking, Brendan," and the
moment passed.'

Two squad cars
came around the corner and pulled as close to the house as the helter-skelter
of vehicles would allow. Tony's white Escalade pulled in behind them.

'Our dates for
the evening have arrived,' Terry said.

Marilyn is not
the hysterical type, but she was as close to it as I've ever seen. She got out
of the car, saw Terry, and ran toward him. He met her halfway, wrapping his
arms around her. He rocked her back and forth, while she buried her face in his
chest and sobbed.

Diana seemed
calm by comparison. She kissed me as if we'd been separated for months, and
before you could say, 'Don't forget about that double homicide, Detective,' I
was hard as a crowbar.

She responded
with a gentle pelvic thrust and a series of tiny kisses that went from my ear to
my lips and radiated south. 'You don't have to buy me the house,' she
whispered. 'Just take me home and fuck me.'

This is probably
why LAPD discourages cops from bringing dates to crime scenes. All those
flashing lights, guys in uniform, and the drama of a cold-blooded murder can
get a girl as horny as a teenager on prom night.

I pulled out of
the clench as Marisol came toward us, her heels machine-gunning their way up
the walk. Tony was right behind her, but all eyes, and there were lots of them
at the scene, focused on the hot little Latin package wrapped in black and
bronze. The black was a slinky piece of fabric that started halfway down her
boobs and ended in mid-thigh. The bronze was all Marisol. Not your traditional
real estate lady look, but, hell, this is LA.

Her make-up was
perfect. The loss of two more business partners had not evoked any emotion that
might smear her mascara. In fact, she looked pissed. Or at the very least,
inconvenienced.

She walked right
at me. 'Let me see the note, Lomax,' she said.

I gave her a
blank look. Before I could ask her to explain, Tony came up behind her and put
his hands on her bare shoulders. 'There is no note,' he said.

Marisol whirled
around at Tony.
'Cabrón!'
she yelled.

Tony went right
back at her. 'I made it up, because you're such a
perra terca
, that was the
only way I could get you out of that goddam house.' He turned to Kilcullen.
'She didn't want to shut down the party, so I told her the killer left a note
saying she's next.'

'If you had
given me ten more minutes I would have had an offer from that dentist and his
wife,' she said.

'It doesn't
matter what offer you'd have gotten tonight,' Tony said. 'When word gets out
that Nora was murdered, the price is going to go sky high.'

'Sounds like a
motive,' Kilcullen said.

'A motive?'
Marisol said, turning her fury on him. 'Kill an author who could have written
ten more books and sold ten more houses, just to drive the price up on this
one?
Pendejo!'

I didn't know
what it meant, but Tony did, and he winced. 'Boss, I'm sorry,' he said. 'She's
upset. This was supposed to be her big night...'

'We're all
upset,' Kilcullen said. 'Charlie showed up with chest pains. We had to ship him
off to Cedars.'

'Jesus,' Tony
said. 'What have we got so far?'

'Same basic M.O.
Lomax and Biggs are still working the scene. Then they're going to want to talk
to you all individually. In the meantime, I'll authorise round-the- clock
protection for both Marisol and Marilyn.'

'You think we're
next?' Marilyn said.

'Nobody's next,'
Kilcullen said. 'It ends here. But just to be on the safe side, I'll have a
female detective spend the night with each of you.'

'Forget it,
Lieutenant,' Marisol said. 'I have a male detective who is spending the night.'
She poked a finger in Tony's chest. 'If he stops lying to me.'

'And I've got
two cops living with me,' Marilyn said.

'How about if I
post a squad car in front of each of your houses,' Kilcullen said.

'I accept,'
Marilyn said.

Marisol held up
both hands. 'Not me. Putting some cop in front of my house isn't going to do
shit. And then he's going to follow me wherever I go? No thanks.'

'Are you sure?'
Tony said. 'I'm not going to be home all the time.'

'Like I need you
to baby-sit? I spend six days a week with a bunch of nasty-ass illegals. They
got knives, they got power tools, they got shovels, and they all hate my guts,
but I'm not afraid of them, and they know it,' Marisol said. 'Don't worry. I
can take care of myself.'

Nobody argued
the point.

'How can I
help?' Big Jim said, after the crime lab took his prints and relieved him of
his bloody shoes.

'You can start
by taking me off your speed dial,' I said.

'I'm not talking
long term. I mean tonight.'

'Actually, I've been
looking for a three-hundred-pound control-freak teamster to help me with
logistics.'

He patted his
belly. 'Look no further.'

'I just spoke to
my boss and got official dispensation to let Marilyn and Diana stay here until
Terry and I finish. We'll drive them home, but their cars are still at the flip
house on South Cherokee.'

'No problem,'
Jim said. 'I'll get a couple of drivers to run the cars over to Terry's house.
They'll be in the driveway before you get home. What else?'

'Marilyn is
worried about Sarah and Emily. They're each staying with a friend. I want you
personally to pick them up and bring them home.'

'Tell those kids
Big Uncle Jim is on the way with the limo. What else?'

'Stay with them
till Terry and I get home.'

'Duh,' he said.
'Do you think I'm so dumb I would just drop off a couple of teenage girls and
leave them?'

'Hey, I didn't
think you were dumb enough to track blood through a crime scene, but I'll be
damned if you didn't manage to do it.'

He held up the
three middle fingers on his right hand. 'You're a detective,' he said. 'Read
between the lines.'

Jim recruited
his wife, Angel, and his best driver, Dennis Hoag. By 8:00 p.m., I was able to
assure Marilyn that her daughters were safe at home, being looked after by
three bodyguards and an equal number of watchdogs.

'Plus Dennis is
an ex-cop, and my father has a serious gun collection,' I reminded her, 'so
they're safe.'

'Thanks,' she
said. 'Nothing makes a soccer mom feel more secure than knowing her little
girls' babysitters have plenty of firepower.'

Because Marilyn
was a possible target, we talked her and Diana into waiting in a squad car
outside the crime scene perimeter, while we went back to work.

Jessica
estimated the time of death between 4:00 and 6:00 p.m. Once again, she doubted if
we'd get useable ballistics on the small-calibre bullets. Chris High and his
team were canvassing the neighbourhood, but so far no witnesses.

Not that we
needed permission, but we politely asked Tony if we could talk to Marisol in
private.

'Does she need a
lawyer?' he said.

'No,' I said.
'What she doesn't need is to be arguing with her husband while we're trying to
ask questions.'

He gave us his
best vote-for-me smile. A lot of cops have second-career plans. I haven't made
mine yet, but Terry's dream is to become a stand-up comic. Tony's plan for life
after LAPD is to run for office. I have no doubt that he can get elected to
city council in his district. He's smart, he's Spanish, and if dark eyes and
white teeth can get votes, the man is a shoo-in.

'You know
there's a reason Marisol and I fight so much,' he said. 'The make-up sex is
fantastic.'

'In that case,'
Terry said, 'we'll do our best to keep her real pissed off.'

We interviewed
Marisol in the backyard, so she could smoke.

'Anything you
want to add that you didn't want to say in front of Tony and everyone else?' I
asked.

'No. Except that
this house-flipping business, with Nora's books driving up the price, was the
best gig I ever worked. And now it's over. Whoever did it might not have killed
me, but he killed the goose that was laying the golden eggs.'

'Are you really
sure you don't want police protection?' Terry said.

'You don't know
me,' she said, lighting up a cigarette. 'I come from a small border town in
Mexico. I grew up hating cops.'

'Why'd you marry
one?'

'Because he's
hung like a donkey, and marrying him got me a green card. So what if he's with
LAPD. Two out of three ain't bad.'

'What's your
beef with cops?' Terry said.

She inhaled
deeply, and I had a pang of envy. I quit smoking almost ten years ago, but
every now and then, I see someone under stress sucking on that tobacco crutch,
and I think to myself,
I could do
that. Just one or two Marlboros a day.
Sure. And by
the end of the first week I'd be buying cancer by the carton.