Sarah Woods Mystery Series (1-6) Boxed Set (77 page)

Chapter 10

Carter and I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting at my kitchen table, gathering intel on Chloe Goodwin. Thanks to his connections and special computer programs, Carter was able to obtain her real cell phone number and home address, along with other details. She was twenty-one. Two speeding tickets and one DUI. 150 friends on Facebook. Relationship status: single.

“
Couldn't find any car registration or driver's license,” Carter said. “So she most likely uses public transportation. She could be a part-time prostitute for all we know.”

“
I highly doubt that,” I said. “She's rather chunky.”

“
Some guys are into that sort of thing, you know.”

I gave him a look. “Sure, if you say so.”

Carter gathered the case file together and returned it to his bag. “We can go back to Sambuca's tomorrow, but it's pretty clear this Chloe girl has no intention of helping us.”

“
By the way,” I said. “I'm ready to take on more responsibility with this case. We can split up and get more done. Unless you don't trust me to do so.”

Carter gave me a contemplative stare. “Tell you what. Next time we go to talk to someone, you be in charge. I'll sit back and observe.”

“
It's not about being in charge. I just want to do more. And I
can
do more.”

“
I know,” he said. “And I agree. You should take on more responsibility.”

“
Good.” I was relieved to get that off my chest. “Why don't you stay for dinner? Max is away for a few days.”

“
Thanks anyway. I have to go home and feed the fish.”

I laughed. “Since when do you have a pet fish?”

“
My neighbor's gone away for a few weeks and asked if I'd take care of it.”

“
You must know this neighbor pretty well.”

“
Apparently well enough that I got asked to feed her fish.”

“
How old is she?” I asked, not sure why I cared.

He shrugged. “Don't know. In her thirties, I guess.”

“
What's her name?”

“
Helen.”

“
What does she do for work?”

“
Chef.”

“
Is she married?”

Carter raised his eyebrows. “Would you like to know her social security number too?”

“
Why? You know her social security number?”

Carter rolled his eyes.

I held up my hands. “Sorry. Just curious. I mean, you never talk about friends and stuff. It's nice to know you have one.”

Carter stood up and headed to the door. “Just because I'm taking care of her fish, doesn't mean we're sleeping together.”

“
I didn't mean to imply that.”

“
Yeah, right.”

After Carter left, I was feeling antsy. I had no food in the apartment, but didn't feel like going out. I could have ordered a pizza, but I didn't need the extra calories.

Just as I was about to fix myself a bowl of cereal, my neighbor Jackie – who lived in the apartment above me – called to see if I wanted to have a glass of wine.

“
Sure,” I said. “Just as soon as I'm done with my gourmet meal.”

“
What are you having?” she asked in her usual gruff yet excited tone.

“
Corn Flakes,” I said.

“
Are you serious? You need more nutrition than that.”

“
It's fortified with nine essential vitamins and minerals. Extra fiber, too.”

“
As your friend and neighbor, I must insist that you walk away from the cereal box and get your butt over here. I'm heating up leftover chili and you're welcome to some.”

“
Are you sure you have enough? I can bring the cereal for backup.”

She scoffed at my comment. “I wouldn't eat that bland shit if you paid me.”

I changed into my comfy yoga clothes: black stretch pants, cotton/lycra tunic, and sneakers. I've found it to be helpful to have clothes that expand, especially when visiting Jackie. She's like a drug pusher, except with food.

A few minutes later, Jackie's dog jumped up and proceeded to lick my entire face as I entered her apartment.

“
Down, Clifford,” Jackie yelled at the mutt. “Why do you always have to molest every person who comes to visit?”

“
I don't mind,” I said, scratching under his ears. “He's my man. He can slobber all over me anytime he wants.”

“
I see you're wearing the proper attire,” she said. “I've just prepared you a giant bowl of my award-winning chili. And I have dessert. Chocolate chip, macadamia nut cookies.”

I patted my stomach. “Are you trying to make me fat?”

“
You could use a little meat on them skinny bones. By the way, what do you think of my new workout attire? I thought it might inspire me to get back to the gym.

Jackie did a little pirouette to show me the pink jogging suit. Problem was, Jackie never went jogging and it was apparent by the extra thirty pounds she carried around. She was vertically challenged at five feet, but what she lacked in height she made up for in bosoms. She showed them off whenever she had the chance.

“
How about a glass of wine?” she asked.

I was about to say yes, but stopped myself. “Actually, I've already suffered one hangover this week. I'm gonna give it a rest.”

“
Whatever,” Jackie said, clearly disapproving. “But I hope you don't mind if I have some.”

“
Not at all.”

After dinner, we sat on her couch and kicked back, and I had the distinct pleasure of hearing all about Jackie's 'sexcapades'. Being the hormone-crazed, Greek-Italian woman
that she was, Jackie left very little to the imagination. She explained in detail how her new pastime, 'erotic texting', was almost as good as the real thing.

“
Sarah,” she said, cradling a glass of red wine, her legs propped up on the ottoman. “Even better than phone sex.”

“
Who are these guys?” I asked. “Do you hook up over the internet?”

“
Yep, it's a blast. Everyone posts phony pictures of themselves. You should see the picture of me. I'm six feet tall with blonde hair. The guy I'm currently “cyber-dating” looks like Brad Pitt in his twenties. In reality, he's old, fat, and bald with an incurable skin disorder.” Jackie refilled her wine glass. “It's pretty amazing when you think about it. The Internet is a wonderful thing.”

“
Sure,” I said. “But when you consider the fact that it also teaches criminals how to make bombs, it can be pretty scary.”

“
So tell me, how are things with Max? You guys still having hot, monkey sex?”

“
I prefer to keep the monkeys in the cage,” I teased.

“
Come on. I share all my secrets with you. Why don't you ever like talking about your personal stuff?”

“
Max and I are good.” That was all I offered.

She rolled her eyes. “Boring.”

I laughed. “Okay. Things are … slowing down in the sex department. But that's normal, right? We've been dating for over a year.”

“
Sure. It's normal. But that only means you have to work a little harder to spice things up. He's away on business, right? You should call him tonight and try it.”

“
Sexting? I don't think I'd be good at that.”

“
Come on. I can give you some pointers.”

“
I don't know. Besides, anyone could be listening in on the conversation. I really don't care to have some government official knowing my private sex life.”

“
Don't be so paranoid. Anyway, the key to a successful love life is always keeping your man on his toes. It's the thrill of the chase.”

“
That's not the problem here. Max is sweet. He's thoughtful. He throws me parties. But ...”

“
Uh oh.”

“
He knows I don't want any more kids. I just don't want to start all over. Besides, I'm almost forty-five. Menopause is right around the corner and I already have a son in college.”

“
Wow. I had no idea he wanted a family.”

“
But here's the thing. I don't know if he even wants to have kids with me. Maybe he's putting it out there like a subtle hint that we're not right for each other. That I'm too old for him.”

“
Come on, I see the way he looks at you. He adores you. Besides, I read in some magazine that Hugh Jackman, that sexy Australian actor, is married to a woman twelve years older than him. So seven years is nothing.”

I shrugged. “I guess it all depends.”

Jackie slurped down more wine. “So tell me, what is it you love about Max?”

“
Who said I loved him?”

“
Okay, forget about love. What do you like about him?”

“
His sense of adventure. His sense of humor. I can be myself around him. He's smart, motivated, fun, not to mention sexy as hell.”

“
Okay, all good reasons. So it sounds like you have to make a decision.”

“
I can't have another baby,” I said. “I'm done with that part of my life.”

“
Well, then,” Jackie said, leaning back on the sofa. “You should come right out and have that discussion with him. If it's a deal breaker, then ...
c’est
la vie”

I moaned. “Easier said than done. Maybe he's not serious about having a family. Maybe I'm reading it all wrong.”

“
I think you need to have that glass of wine now,” she said, holding the bottle up. “Shall I pour you a glass?”

I eyed the bottle and sighed.
“
Sure.”

Chapter 11

Saturday, April 27

Carter called at 7:15 a.m. the next morning, waking me from a sound sleep.

“
Sarah, I need a favor.”

I cleared my throat. “What's up, Carter?”

“
Something's come up. I need to leave town for a few days. Can you take over the Fleming case until I get back?”

“
Is everything okay?”

A pause. “Uh, yeah … it will be. Look, I'm sorry to dump it on you. I'll explain later. I gotta go.”

I rubbed my eyes, wondering if this was all a dream. “Wait. What do I do about Chloe Goodwin?”

“
Maybe she'll be more receptive if you approach her on your own. Go back to the bar and do what you do. She's probably a dead end, but it's worth a try.”

“
Okay, but ...”

“
I just stopped by your place,” Carter said. “I left the case file in a brown envelope just inside your screen door. Maybe you can give Detective James a call to see if he's back in town. Thanks for agreeing to do this for me.”

Before I had a chance to respond, the line went dead.

I jumped in the shower and contemplated what Carter could be up to. A family emergency? Carter said he had no family. Maybe a friend was in trouble. Maybe it had something to do with Helen, his neighbor with the fish.

While sipping on coffee, I opened the package Carter had dropped off. I took my time reading over the file; most of Carter's handwritten notes were barely legible.

I scanned through the list of clients and customers that Elizabeth had provided us with. Fifteen artists and over 150 clients on his e-mail list. I figured some of those clients were only one-time buyers, while others – like Victor Rowley – were steady customers. I'd get on the phone and contact each and every one of them if I had to.

At around 10:00 a.m. I called the Bridgeport Police Department and briefly spoke with Detective James. We had worked together on a case before so I felt he might be receptive to sharing some information.

“
Sarah,” he said in his usual authoritative tone. “It's nice to hear from you. What's up?”

“
This is about Glenn Fleming,” I replied. “He was shot during the robbery at his gallery last month.”

“
Yeah, I know who he is. Why are you calling me about this?”

“
Elizabeth Fleming hired me to look into things. I was just wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”

A pause. “This is an open investigation, Sarah. You know I can't discuss details with you.”

“
Yes, I understand. I'm just curious if you ever considered the possibility that Glenn's death was a targeted hit?”