Read Finders Keepers Losers Die Online

Authors: Carolyn Scott

Tags: #romantic suspense, #hollywood, #mystery, #romantic comedy, #woman sleuth, #chick lit, #funny, #cozy mystery, #private investigator, #actor

Finders Keepers Losers Die (7 page)

"So how did it happen? Did she storm out in
tears? I want details, Cat."

I told her they'd broken up a while ago then
I told her about the modeling agent firing her and the missing
money.

"I knew she was trouble." Gina stuck a hand
on her out-thrust hip and gave me a cheeky smile. "So, does this
mean Will's free?"

My jaw dropped. "You're going to go for
him?" I would have laughed but it wasn't very funny. Will and Gina
were all wrong. He was intense and broody, especially lately, and
she was a flighty motor mouth. Don't get me wrong, I love her to
bits, but
man
can she talk. It didn't matter what she spoke
about, she always had something more to say. Sometimes it took all
my energy not to tell her to shut up, and we were best friends.
Imagine if she and Will went on a date. He wouldn't be able to
stand it! Patience wasn't a virtue he'd mastered.

Then again, Gina was
very
attractive.
And maybe she wouldn't talk
all
the time. During sex for
example…

"Um, Gina, I don't think—"

A customer walked in and she hushed me with
a wave of her hand. "Talk later." We air kissed and I left as she
went into saleswoman from hell mode.

I got in my car and drove to Mom's. We had
roast chicken with yummy crispy potatoes for dinner. Comfort food.
I ate two helpings because I knew it would be the last decent meal
until the next time I visited.

After dinner I showed her the receiver and
we looked it up in her book. It could pick up sounds up to a
hundred feet from the microphone. Perfect.

"So when do you plan on using it?" Mom
asked, blunt as ever.

I shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe I
won't." No need to tell her I planned on sleeping in my car that
night outside Lou's place. Some things a mother shouldn't know.
Fortunately she seemed to believe me and dropped the
questioning.

Half an hour later, I was home. I showered,
changed into my black detective clothes and drove round to Lou's. I
parked down the road behind a van and tuned in the receiver. I
picked up voices straight away.

"There's a lot of blood," said a man.

Holy cow! Blood?

He started talking about blood spatter and
voids and I blew out a sigh. It was
CSI
on TV.

I listened to the entire show. During the ad
breaks, I heard the toilet flush, the microwave beep and the phone
ring. It must have been Valerie because Lou started telling her
what he'd like to do to her body later. I nearly threw up my dinner
when he mentioned bending her over the couch. After he hung up, it
occurred to me I should put a listening device in her place too
since he spent so much time there. Maybe they might even discuss
the whereabouts of the jewelry. That's something a man might talk
about with his girlfriend.

I groaned. I didn't really want to lie my
way into another home, and I definitely didn't want to pretend to
clean up the storeroom again.

A few minutes later, I heard Lou's front
door open and close and then he appeared downstairs. He wore a nice
shirt and his hair looked washed so I guessed he was going to see
Valerie. He got into his Camaro and took off. I pressed my foot to
the floor and sped after him. Even though I'd been to her place
before, I didn't want to lose him in case he detoured on the
way.

Another P.I. lesson—when following a
suspect, don't use a vehicle he'd recognize. If I'd known Lou
wasn't staying inside all evening, I'd have borrowed Mom's or
Gina's car.

I lost him anyway when he ran a red light. I
braked hard and thumped my palm on the steering wheel. Where the
hell are the cops when you actually need them?

When the lights turned green, I headed to
Valerie's. I was nearly there when I got a prickly feeling on the
back of my neck and the hairs on my arms stood up. I checked my
rearview mirror and nearly veered off the road.

A red Camaro followed me.

CHAPTER 4

 

 

I didn't have to see Lou's face to know he
had the same menacing look in his eyes that he'd had in the parking
lot at The Grotto. I shivered and rolled up my window. I wasn't
taking any chances when we stopped at the lights.

What the hell did he think he would achieve
by following me? Surely he must know I'd spotted him. The Camaro
was so far up my ass I couldn't miss it. Maybe he just wanted to
get his own back. Maybe he wanted to scare me into leaving him
alone.

Too bad, because I didn't scare easily. I
worked for Will Knight. Enough said.

After a few minutes it became pretty clear
he wouldn't go away, nor would he force me off the road. Not on the
main streets of Renford—too risky.

If I wanted to get rid of him, I had to take
the initiative. I flexed my fingers on the steering wheel and sped
up. The Camaro had no problem keeping pace.

Shit.

Okay. Obviously my little Civic couldn't
outrun him so I had to try something else. I spun the wheel hard to
the right and turned down a side street, then left into another and
finally returned to Nicholson Street, a main road. I spotted a
tight break in the oncoming traffic and did a sharp U-turn to
change direction.

The Camaro was still on my tail. A few more
fancy turns later and I'd run out of options, and it wouldn't be
long before I also ran out of gas. I found myself wondering what
Will or Carl would do then I realized they wouldn't have ended up
in such a dangerous situation in the first place.

Okay, if I couldn't get rid of him the
action-movie way, it was time to get rid of him the Cat Sinclair
way.

I slowed down to the speed limit and dug my
cell phone out of my handbag. I dialed the police and reported a
driver swerving dangerously in a red Camaro heading east along
Nicholson.

A short time later flashing lights and a
siren heralded their arrival behind Lou. The Camaro pulled over and
I got out of there as fast as I could without breaking any
laws.

I headed home, too spooked to go to
Valerie's and finish the surveillance. What was the point anyway? I
hadn't wired her house and Lou knew my car. Next time I'd be better
prepared.

***

My alarm woke me at seven. The phone woke me
again at eight-thirty. It was Carl.

"I think you better get in here." He sounded
edgy. "Roberta Scarletti is waiting for you."

Roberta? What was she doing at the office?
Oh yeah, she didn't know I was working freelance.

"Will's not there yet, is he?" I asked
Carl.

"He had an early morning meeting with Slim
but I expect him in soon."

Damn. "If he gets there before me, make sure
he and Roberta don't talk." I hung up on his protests. Poor Carl.
He hated being caught in the middle. Whenever Will and I got into a
verbal tussle, he hid in his office and emerged only when the coast
was clear. He was Switzerland—neutral, keeping his nose out of our
business. If he covered for me and Will found out, Switzerland
would be compromised.

I had a quick shower, dressed in a
knee-length white pencil skirt, white strappy shoes and a peacock
blue top with capped sleeves. Very summery but probably not very
professional. I didn't have time to dry my hair so I left it damp
and tied it up in a tight twist. I took my makeup and a banana with
me. While stopped at the red traffic lights, I ate the banana and
applied mascara and a soft peach lipstick. I popped a mint from the
packet I keep in the glove compartment into my mouth because
there's nothing worse than banana breath. Except maybe coffee
breath.

Mmmm, coffee.

When I parked outside the office I breathed
a sigh of relief when I couldn't see Will's car. Or Lou's Camaro.
Safe.

The day already felt warm. Later, with the
afternoon sun blaring through the front window, the air
conditioning would struggle to keep the office cool.

Brightly colored floral bunches spruced up
the uneven, dirty footpath outside Gina's shop, but she must have
been out the back because I couldn't see her. No time to stop and
chat anyway.

In the office, Roberta sat on the edge of
the couch, her short fingernails tapping against the black handbag
in her lap. Carl sat at my desk, fingers steepled. When I walked
in, he stood and cast me a
Don't ever do that to me again
look, then disappeared into his office and shut the door.

"Roberta, hi, sorry I'm late, the traffic
was terrible."

Roberta burst into tears.

I froze, wondering what I'd said or done
wrong, then I mobilized. I'm good at consoling. You should have
seen me at Aunt May's funeral. I had tissues and soothing words in
abundance.

With an arm around Roberta's shoulders, I
steered her toward the front door. "Let's go to the café over the
road and you can tell me all about it. I hear they have great
coffee."

We settled down in a corner of Trendz Café
and sipped lattés. Roberta had stopped crying but her cheeks were
tear-stained and her eyes swollen. She sniffed every five seconds
and I wished I had a tissue to offer. Digging my fingernails into
my palms to distract myself from the irritating noise, I asked her
what was wrong.

"It's Lou." Her voice cracked again and she
put her hand to her wobbly mouth.

I bristled, anger surging. What had that
bastard done now? He'd managed to intimidate me so I could only
imagine what he'd said to frighten a rabbit like Roberta.

"He didn't visit you did he?" I asked. "Or
call you and threaten to—"

"He's dead."

Nothing could have stunned me more. I sat
back with a thud. I think my mouth fell open and I know I stared at
Roberta like I'd seen a naked alien land in my living room doing
the Macarena. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "The police called me this
morning." She sobbed into her hand.

I leaned forward and touched her other hand,
resting on the table. "Oh, Roberta, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you
still had feelings for him."

She shook her head. "I don't. I just know
I'll never get my jewels back now."

I wasn't sure what to say to that. She
sounded a little mercenary. I could understand her not being upset
over Lou's death but he
had
been her husband for fifteen
years. Surely she felt something, even if it was only
disappointment that he wasn't around to see her get her life back
on track.

"How did he die?" I asked.

"Murdered."

"Murdered!" Oh. My. God.

I'd expected her to say heart attack or
stroke. Lou looked like a man with a fondness for takeout and an
aversion to exercise. Maybe even an accident in his Camaro. But
murdered? Holy crap.

"In his apartment," she said.

An unsettling thought struck me—if I'd been
listening in to the transmitter I planted in his apartment, I could
have heard the killer. I might have been able to prevent his
death.

"He wasn't at Valerie's last night?"

Roberta wiped her damp cheeks with the back
of her hand. "Apparently not."

"Who would kill him?"

"You mean apart from me?" She shrugged. "I
have no idea."

I nearly choked on my latté. "You didn't did
you?"

"No!"

Phew. It would be just my luck that my first
client turned out to be a murderer.

"I thought he was clean after coming out of
jail," she said. "As far as I know, he hadn’t been in any
trouble."

"Actually he’s been associating with some
shady characters lately. Ex-cons, that sort of thing."

She raised her unruly eyebrows. "Really?"
But she didn’t sound overly surprised. I guess that’s what happens
when you live with a pig for so long—you get used to the flies.
"Maybe one of them killed him."

"I’m sure the police will find out who did
it."

She nodded. "So what are we going to
do?"

"Do?" I shrugged, palms up. "Nothing. He
won't lead us to the jewels now."

"But you can't give up! They're mine!" She
placed her palms on the table and leaned forward. Her eyes narrowed
and her lips thinned. "I spent fifteen miserable years as his wife.
He pulled me down when he was alive. He's not going to do it now
he's dead. I want what's mine."

She had a point but I still wasn't convinced
it was a feasible idea. I mean, where to start? Will and Carl would
know but I couldn't ask them. I needed to do it on my own.

At least there was a plus to Lou being
dead—I didn't have to worry about my safety anymore.

"I'm still his legal wife," Roberta said.
"So technically they're still my jewels."

"Okay."

Her face lit up and you wouldn't have
guessed she'd just cried bucket-loads. But then she touched her
fingers to her mouth as fresh tears welled. "I can't thank you
enough. I know you're not doing this for the money. I have this
feeling about you. You're honest. You believe in justice. I knew as
soon as I met you. I felt it in my bones."

Not the bones again. "It's no problem."

"I want this wrapped up quickly," she added.
"His family will fight me in court for his assets. You have to go
through his apartment and car before they stop you."

I paid for the coffees and saw Roberta off.
I headed back to the office, thinking through my next move. One
thing became clear. I had to talk to the police. Not only was I
curious to find out the details of Lou's murder, but I probably
should tell them about the listening device. Honesty is the best
policy, but only if it stops you getting in worse trouble.

Carl poked his head round his door when I
got back to the office. "She gone?"

"Yes." I frowned and looked closer at his
face. "What happened to your lip?”

He fingered the swollen cut on his lower
lip. I hadn't noticed it earlier because he'd scuttled into his
office like a frightened tortoise and I was more interested in
Roberta.

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