MURDER ON A DESIGNER DIET (5 page)

Chapter 9

  

Officer Gomez pulled Penelope back out onto the landing and handcuffed her. “Let's go,” she demanded, nodding down the stairway.

“Please,” Penelope said through her tears. “I have to see if my friend is in there.”

Officer Gomez turned Penelope around roughly and looked closely at her face. She pulled out a penlight and shone it into her eyes. “Open your mouth.”

Penelope hesitated a moment then opened wide, showing the woman her teeth.

Officer Gomez eyed her up and down once more. “You don't look like a junkie now that I can see you better.” She radioed to her partner downstairs, who confirmed that Joey was on the job. Her tough expression relented and she said, “Tell me again what you think happened here tonight.”

Penelope's knees buckled with relief, even though she was still handcuffed and technically under arrest. “I got a weird message from my friend, Max Madison.”

“Max Madison. Randall Madison's son? The one from the MTV show?” Officer Gomez asked.

Penelope nodded. “I heard some kind of argument. We tracked down where we thought Max might be and called 911. We were trying to decide what to do next when a man came running out the door and knocked me down. Joey chased him up the block, and I heard a shot. Then you guys showed up. Please, you have to help Max,” Penelope begged, looking back at the apartment door.

Officer Gomez shook her head slightly and pressed the radio on her lapel. “Has our backup arrived?”

“Copy, they're on their way up to you now,” her partner responded. They heard the door open below them and both glanced towards the stairway. “The boss is on his way too. We're detaining Detective Baglioni for discharging his weapon.”

Officer Gomez nodded. “Copy.” She turned to Penelope. “Stay right here. Don't make me chase you again.”

Penelope nodded quickly. “Thank you, I will.”

Two uniformed officers joined them on the landing. “Follow me. The scene isn't cleared yet, so stay alert. Let's check in all the usual hiding places.” The three of them pulled their weapons and entered the apartment.

Penelope pushed the small of her back against the wooden railing on the landing and listened to them move through the apartment. They didn't say much during their search, until she heard three voices say “Clear.”

“I've got one male DOA, gunshot wounds to the chest and abdomen. Clear signs of a struggle, possibly additional victims, multiple blood trails. We'll need detectives and CSU up here,” Officer Gomez said into her radio.

Penelope felt sick to her stomach as she watched the two officers walk past her and down the stairs. Officer Gomez came out of the door and faced her. “It's not Max. It's a big guy. Blond.”

“The guy who lives here is named Christian. He's got a bunch of cross tattoos,” Penelope said.

“Then that's probably him,” Officer Gomez said, glancing quickly at the legs sticking out from the alcove. “He your friend too?” When Penelope shook her head she said, “Turn around.”

Officer Gomez undid the handcuffs and Penelope rubbed the red marks on her wrists where they had pinched the skin. “Let's go back downstairs,” Officer Gomez said. A drop of kindness had slipped into her voice.

When they walked back outside, the rain had stopped. Joey was on the sidewalk next to the patrol car he'd been sitting in, talking to a man in a white uniform shirt with several ribbons pinned over his badge. Two more patrol cars were parked behind the first one and an ambulance slid up silently behind them, red lights bouncing off of the surrounding buildings. Penelope noticed a few curtains had been pulled aside across the street by curious neighbors who'd had their sleep disrupted. She glanced up at the windows of the brownstone that shared the courtyard with Christian's building and saw a woman gazing down from the third floor window, pulling apart her wooden blinds to see what all the commotion was about.

Penelope hurried over to Joey. When he saw her approaching, he nodded quickly at the police captain he'd been talking to and rushed over to meet her, grabbing her up in his arms and hugging her.

“Ouch,” Penelope said, feeling for the first time pain in her ribs from falling against the table.

“Sorry. Penny, please don't do that again. You had me worried sick,” he said, burying his face in her hair. He held her for a moment longer. “I have to go in with them, do some paperwork.”

“She's coming in too,” Officer Gomez said, walking up behind them. “We're going to need statements from you both.”

Chapter 10

  

Penelope sat in a lumpy guest chair next to a cluttered metal desk in the center of the lower Manhattan squad room. She looked through the glass window of the captain's office and watched the back of Joey's head as he spoke to the stern-faced man, his white hair perfectly matching his shirt. He frowned as he listened to Joey, switching between leaning forward on his desk with his fingers tightly entwined and leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed at his chest. She glanced down at her shattered phone and ran her finger along the cracks in the glass.

“Please review the statement as given and sign here, ma'am.” A pudgy detective returned to the desk where she sat and handed her a folder with three yellow-lined typed sheets attached by metal clips. She read through the statement and signed it at the bottom of the last page. The detective took the folder from her and tossed it onto a teetering stack of papers on his desk. A chipped nameplate next to it read Det. John Leary.

“What are the next steps to finding Max?”

Detective Leary eyed her with tired irritation. “Ma'am, as I explained to you before, I have no idea if your friend is missing, fled the scene of a crime, or is just sleeping it off somewhere. It's too early to tell what happened in that apartment. One thing I know for sure is I got a dead body, and that's my priority right now.”

Penelope looked back down at her phone, exhaustion pulling her shoulders down.

“Look,” the detective said with a note of kindness, “I know you're worried about your friend, but people have a way of turning up. From what you told me, a bunch of people were out, drinking at lots of different places...any number of things could have happened. He's probably asleep on a couch somewhere right now. You can't even tell me for sure if he was in that building.”

Penelope looked up at him. “Yeah, but on the message—”

“The message that no longer exists,” the detective said, glancing at her cracked phone. “Even if you could get the message, what would I be able to hear? A fight? Without a location or a body...”

Penelope sucked in a gasp and tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

Detective Leary sighed. “Sorry. Look, I've been doing this a long time. He's going to turn up and probably have quite a story to tell. My advice to you is go home and wait for him. And get some rest.”

Penelope regained her composure and stared blankly at him.

“We'll be in touch if we have any questions. You're free to go.”

Penelope looked back at the window and saw Joey leaving the captain's office, angrily yanking open the door as he went. She jumped up from her seat and hurried over to him.

“You finished here?” he asked when he saw her approaching.

“Yes, they just said I could go,” Penelope said.

“Good,” Joey said tightly, ushering her towards the exit door of the squad room.

“Is everything okay?” Penelope asked.

“Not here,” Joey said, hurrying her along.

When they stepped outside it was morning, the sun rising brightly over the East River. A group of police officers stood near the front steps, and Penelope saw Officer Gomez with them. She had changed out of her uniform into street clothes, jeans and a pink long-sleeved t-shirt, her hair hanging in loose curls down her back. Her large gold hoop earrings caught the glint of the sun as she turned to look at Penelope.

“One minute, Joey,” Penelope said, walking over to her.

“Rough night, eh?” Officer Gomez asked as Penelope approached. “You look like you could use some sleep.”

Penelope nodded. “Can I ask you something?”

“Okay,” Officer Gomez said apprehensively.

“I don't think the detective I spoke to in there is going to look for Max,” Penelope said.

Officer Gomez glanced back at the group of officers talking with each other near the entrance and took Penelope's arm, moving her away from them. She flicked a strand of black hair over her shoulder. “Look, we only have your word that anything even happened to him. A cell phone call can be made from anywhere. He's not a missing person. Right now there's no evidence he was involved.”

“We helped you find Christian, doesn't that count for anything? I'm not making this up,” Penelope said.

“I know you think he's in trouble, I get that.” Officer Gomez glanced over her shoulder again at her colleagues and lowered her voice. “Here's some free advice. I wouldn't be trying so hard to link Max with Christian if I were you. Why do you think we were on you so fast?”

“Because I called 911?” Penelope said.

Officer Gomez laughed and shook her head. “We get called to that location all the time. We were responding to a complaint from a neighbor before your call even came through. So unless you want your friend to be caught up in a criminal investigation, I'd keep your theories to yourself. You get me?”

Penelope bit her bottom lip and looked over at Joey. His arms were crossed and he had his back to them. “Is there anything else you can do?”

“Who, me?” Officer Gomez said with a look of surprise. “I did do something. I believed you were telling the truth and I didn't arrest you, even though I had more than enough to bring you in.” She started ticking off her fingers. “Trespassing, resisting arrest, breaking and entering, assaulting an officer…”

“Assaulting? Come on,” Penelope said, taking a step away from her. “I was just trying to find out what happened to Max.”

“And now you have to leave it to the police. If he was there and there is evidence that he was involved with drugs or anything else illegal in that apartment, we'll be the ones pursuing him. Don't let me find you in the middle of this again, or I
will
bring you in.”

Penelope stared at her for a moment. “Can you at least tell me if they do find anything out about Max?”

Officer Gomez sighed, putting a hand on her hip. She shook her head and pulled a leather business card case from her back pocket. “Here's my card. You can call me if you want. I'll let you know what I can. But remember what I told you. Don't get in the way.”

Penelope took the card from her and ran her fingers over the upraised letters of her name: Denise Gomez. “Thanks.”

Officer Gomez sniffed and shook her head as she watched Penelope walk away.

Chapter 11

  

Penelope and Joey rode in the back of the cab in silence, Joey staring out the window at the Hudson River as they traveled down the West Side Highway.

“Are you okay?” Penelope asked, looking at the back of his head.

Joey sighed and remained silent, both of them rocking on the seat when the cab braked suddenly for slow traffic.

“Joey, what happened?” Penelope asked quietly.

“I winged the guy,” Joey said. “I know I hit him in the arm, but he kept running. I didn't want to get too far away from you in case anyone else came out. We never should have gone over there in the first place. It was stupid of me and now...” He shook his head.

“Now what?” Penelope asked.

“Now I'm on administrative leave until they can clear the shooting. I have to answer not only to my boss but the Manhattan borough chief and explain to them why I discharged my weapon on a residential street while off duty. Not to mention after a night of drinking. I'll be lucky if I just get suspended after everyone is through with me.” Joey crossed his arms tightly and stared out through the windshield, willing the traffic to move again.

“Joey, I'm so sorry,” Penelope said.

Joey shook his head. “I was worried about you, Penny, about leaving you behind. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you. If I had caught the guy, if I'd apprehended him and proven he'd been the one up in Christian's apartment, things would be a lot better. But right now, they just have my word and not much else to go on.”

Penelope stared down at her hands as she twisted them in her lap.

Joey rapped his knuckles on the Plexiglas divider to get the cab driver's attention. “Hey, you mind getting off this?”

The cab driver nodded and inched into the left lane so he could take the next exit.

“Joey, I'm sorry I got you involved,” Penelope said. “I can't believe it got to be such a mess.”

After another minute, the cab freed itself from the gridlock on the highway and began moving quickly again along the bumpy streets of lower Manhattan.

“Look, I know we've got something here, you and me. But Max and Arlena, they're a big part of your life too. I want to be sure I'll be a priority to you if we're going to move forward.”

“Of course you are—” Penelope protested.

“Except,” Joey cut her off, raising a finger in the air, “when you get a call from Max in the middle of the night, you jump out of bed and run to him. And dummy that I am, I follow right behind you.”

“Don't say that,” Penelope said quietly, flicking her eyes at the back of the cab driver's head. Joey had turned away from her again. “I'm worried about Max, that's all. If you could've heard how scared he sounded on the phone…I would try and help any of my friends in the same situation.”

The tension in Joey's shoulders relented slightly, but his anger was still putting a wall between them. Without looking at her he said, “I'm going to get my things from the room and head back to Jersey. I have to be in my boss's office at noon to answer for all of this. You should stay, get some sleep.”

Penelope reached up to place a hand on his shoulder and felt it stiffen beneath her touch.

The cab stopped abruptly in front of the Tribeca Loft, and Joey and Penelope rode the elevator up to their room in silence. Once they were inside, Joey closed the bathroom door behind him and turned on the shower.

Penelope picked up the phone on the bedside table and connected with room service, ordering breakfast for two and a pot of coffee. After she hung up, she laid down on the bed to rest her eyes.

A loud knock on the door woke her and Penelope sat up on the bed, momentarily disoriented. She opened the door to a smiling room service waiter, his hands resting on a rolling cart topped with two silver cloches.

“Breakfast, madam?” he said, smiling brightly.

Penelope rubbed her eyes. “Yes, please come in.”

He rolled the cart into the room and busied himself arranging the cloches on the table in front of the windows, setting out the coffee carafe and cups and placing the silverware down with a slight flourish. Penelope glanced at the bathroom and saw the door was open and the lights were off.

“Joey?” Penelope asked, glancing around the room.

The waiter finished setting the table and then looked at her expectantly, his hands tucked neatly behind his back.

Penelope grabbed her handbag from the lounge chair and pulled a ten-dollar bill from it. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, madam. Enjoy,” he said, bowing quickly and leaving her alone in the room.

Penelope looked around her and saw a stack of her clothes had been neatly folded in a pile on the opposite chair. And Joey's overnight bag was gone.