Seeing the Light (A Marie Jenner Mystery Book 1) (25 page)

Then, I cooled my heels for what felt like an hour as Williams took some calls, had coffee, played a video game, and wasted my time. Now, I don’t know if he was actually doing any those things, because I was waiting for him to come and escort me to his office, but it sure felt like it.

By the time he did come down to talk to me, I wasn’t in the mood for any foolishness. But that’s what I was going to get.

“What information do you have for me, Miss Jenner?” He stared at me with his flat eyes, thumbs hooked into his utility belt, the fingers of one hand rubbing the edge of his flashlight like he could already feel it smacking me on the top of the head for wasting his time. I tried to put some semblance of a smile on my face as I gestured to the locked door that kept the rabble separated from the police.

“Can we go up to your office? I’ll only take a minute of your time, I really would rather not talk to you about this down here.”

I wished for a moment that my hair didn’t look like a bad ponytail, or that I was wearing something more revealing, anything to break through the big wall of “I don’t give a rat’s butt” between him and me. He thought he already had all the information he needed to close the case, and nothing I was going to say was going to change his mind.

I tried anyway. I told him everything I’d found out about Carruthers. I told him about Las Vegas north, about the name of the potential investor sounding like Samosa, and about Carruthers hiring someone to destroy the Palais. I even explained why the Palais was going to be destroyed. Because of the historical designation, which would be decided in the next week. When I finally stopped talking, he stared at me with his flat blue eyes, thumbs still stuck in his belt.

“I don’t see how this relates to the fire in your apartment building, Miss Jenner.”

I stared at him, open-mouthed. I’d honestly forgotten that he was the one investigating the fire. “I’m—I’m sure it’s all connected,” I finally said, choking on the words. “I’m sure if you check, you’ll find out Carruthers had something to do with it, as well. There’s something going on, Constable! Please check this stuff out!”

He stared at me for a few moments more, then thanked me for coming down and giving him the information. He would take it under advisement, and get back to me. Next week.

I tried to hand him the flash drive with the information I’d gathered on it. He pulled his hand back as though I’d tried to burn him with it.

“I can’t take that,” he said. “Viruses and such. You know. Maybe you can print it all off and send it to me, next week.”

I stared at him. “Aren’t you at least going to write down what I said?” I finally asked. “I thought you were supposed to write everything down.”

“I’ve got it all up here.” He disengaged one thumb from his belt and tapped his forehead, twice.

“So that’s it, then?”

“I’ll get back to you next week.”

That’s when it hit me. It was the Friday of a long weekend. Constable Williams didn’t care one way or another what information I had. He was trying to get out early, to start his long weekend early. I saw red.

“Who is your supervisor?” I didn’t think I’d spoken very loudly, but everyone in the entrance turned and stared at me.

“You should calm down.” Williams had obviously seen the looks, and took a step toward me, lowering his own voice to get me to lower mine. “You’ve had a bad couple of days, and—”

“I don’t think you have any idea how bad my last couple of days have been, Constable Williams!” Yep, my voice was definitely loudish. The cops staffing the desk gave us a “do we have a problem here” glance, prompting Williams to give a quick head shake. No problem here. Absolutely not.

“Tell me who your supervisor is,” I yelled, “and we are done here.”

“Fine. You want my supervisor’s name, fine. Her name is Sergeant Sylvia Worth.”

Sergeant Worth was the other officer who had come to speak to me about the fire. If I could get hold of her right away, I could maybe put a kink in good old Constable Williams’ long weekend plans.

“Great,” I said. “I’ll go and talk to her right now.”

“She’s not here,” Constable Williams said, and had the gall to sneer a half-smile at me. “The boys at the desk can give you her number so you can leave her a message. She’ll probably get back to you next week. Now, I have to go.”

He turned without another word, disappearing through the door that separated the inner from the outer—with me still standing, fuming, on the outer.

I stormed into the Palais, stormed up the stairs, and would have stormed down the hallway to Latterson’s office except Farley popped up in front of me.

His colour was good. Surprisingly so. He had a pink tinge to his face I’d never seen in the dead before.

All that did was piss me off even more. Of course he’d be doing something else I’d never seen before. If I didn’t move him on soon, I was pretty sure I was going to go stark raving mad.

“Did I ever tell you that cops are idiots?” I asked, before he could even open his mouth. “I tried to explain to that cop, Williams, or whatever his name is, what I thought was going on in the building, and he told me he would take it under advisement.”

It took me three tries to get the key in the lock, my hands were shaking so badly. “What the hell does that even mean?” I yelled, as I fought with the lock. “I’ll take it under advisement. Jesus!”

“I don’t think you should go in there,” Farley said.

“Why not?” The lock finally clicked open, and I walked into the office. Mr. Latterson’s door was shut. “Any idea whether he’s in there or not?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “You have to leave. Now.”

“I can’t leave. You know that,” I said, glancing up at the clock above the door. It read 4:25. I still had time before the building was locked up for the weekend. I slapped my computer to life and pulled the flash drive from my pocket. At the very least I could go through some more of the files.

“So just check and see if he’s in there,” I said. “If he catches me doing this, I’m dead.”

“That’s why you have to leave,” Farley said. “I think you might be in danger.”

“Danger? I’m not in danger,” I said, still staring at the computer screen. “What I meant was, I’ll be fired, really this time, and I won’t be able to help you. Know what I—”

“Shut up!” Farley yelled. “Listen to me. You are in danger!”

Shut up? He had the gall to tell me to shut up? I glanced up at him, ready to give him what for—and saw that he was even pinker than he had been in the hallway.

“Why are you pink?” I asked. “Any idea at all?”

“What?” Farley stared at me as though he couldn’t understand what I was saying. Then he looked down at his hands, which were glowing as pink as his face. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “Why
am
I pink?”

“Of course you don’t know,” I snorted. This was so ridiculous. “Why would you?”

His colour deepened, turning quite neon.

“It’s actually getting hard to take you seriously,” I laughed.

“Because I’m pink?”

“Well, yes.”

“Get over it. You have to get out of here, now.”

“Why?”

“Because Jimmy boy caught that kid who’s always visiting your boss—”

“Are you talking about Raymond?” I asked.

“Yes,” Farley snapped. “Now shut up and listen!”

I snapped my mouth shut. That was the second time he told me to shut up in as many minutes. I didn’t think I liked it.

“Jimmy caught him coming out of the furnace room with a bunch of tools. The idiot tried to convince Jimmy that he was doing work down there, but when he didn’t have a work order, Jimmy roughed him up, and then called the cops.”

“What?” I gasped. Raymond, down in the furnace room? Why would he be down there, unless—

I turned and stared at Mr. Latterson’s door. “Is he in there?” I asked again. “Please check. If he’s not, I need to get in there, right now, because if Raymond broke into the furnace room, then Mr. Latterson has to be involved. I need proof.” I tore the flash drive out of my computer. “It will be in there. Please.”

Farley shook his head. “You gotta get out of here, Marie.”

I shook my head. “I have to do this, so you can move on, Farley. I think if I do this, you won’t be tied here anymore.” My throat tightened, and I put my hands to my eyes, just for a moment, to try to stop the stupid tears before they started. “It’s all I can think to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything more for me,” Farley said. He looked frantic. “Please, get out of here. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Always the gentleman, aren’t you, Farley?”

“No, not always,” he said. “Now please, go.”

I didn’t have a chance to go. I didn’t have a chance to do much of anything past ram the flash drive back in my pocket, because Mr. Latterson came out of his office at that moment, with his arms full of papers.

“Ah, Jenner,” he said. He looked absolutely frazzled. “Glad you’re here. I have to leave, but I’ve got a job for you.”

“A job?” I asked.

It was hard to hear him over Farley, who started yelling, “Get out, get out, get out!” at the top of his lungs.

“Yes,” Latterson said. He sounded calm, but his hair, which was standing on end all over his head, quivered in time with his pulse. “I’m expecting a phone call.” He glanced at the clock. “In about fifteen minutes. I need you to handle it.” He smiled, and I noticed his right eye was twitching in time with his hair. “You don’t mind, do you?”

I looked at the clock. If I stayed, it would be after five. “Who’s calling?” I asked.

“It’ll be my lawyer,” he said. The topmost sheets on the pile of paper he was holding began to shift, and he attempted to slide them back into his arms. “Papers to sign and whatnot.”

He overcompensated, and the sheets slid to the floor. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered and reached down to gather them back into his arms. The rest of the sheets of paper slid from his grasp and landed on the floor at his feet, like the petals from a huge white flower. Without thinking I reached over to pick them up for him.

“Get away from those!” Latterson screamed, pushing me back. Which made me wonder what was in those sheets of paper that he did not want me to see. More bank accounts with even more money hidden from his wife and kids? Real honest to goodness proof that he was actually working for Mr. Carruthers, the owner of the building?

I needed to see what he was trying to hide.

“It’s okay,” I said, doing a little shoving of my own as I dove for the pile of papers. “I can get them.”

He pushed at me, still screaming at me to get the hell away from his private papers, but I managed to grab the topmost sheet. That’s when I saw that it was an insurance policy, and that my name was on it. He had taken out a life insurance policy on me.

Holy crap. His reason for hiring me, his only reason for hiring me, was so he could make money off my death.

He tried to push me away from the pile of paper, but I brushed his hand aside, tiredly.

“Is that why you want me to stay?” I asked, pointing at the policy.

“What?” Latterson asked, like he was going to try to bluff his way out of that room. Then he shook his head, and his face changed. Turned cold. “It’s common practice,” he said. “After all, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Yeah, right. “And the rest of these?” I asked, pointing at the pile. “All insurance policies?”

“Ah, it’s one way of making a little extra cash off this deal,” Latterson said.

“You have to get out of here NOW!” Farley cried. “I think it’s gas!”

I turned to him. He was screaming pink, and as he moved an aura of hot fuchsia surrounded him. Quite pretty in a Barbie sort of way.

“You were right,” I said.

Latterson glanced over in Farley’s direction, then back at me as though I’d lost my mind.

“I know. But you have to go,” Farley said.

“Not quite yet,” I replied, and turned on Latterson. “You have got to be the stupidest man alive,” I hissed. “The cops will be all over this building in a few minutes, and I’m going to tell them everything—everything I know!”

I pushed away from him, my rage all consuming. Which made me a little bit stupid, too. You see, I should have been running, but I wasn’t. I was sitting on the floor, mouthing off to a man who’d taken a life insurance policy out on me.

“What do you know?” Latterson asked.

“I think you killed Farley,” I said. “And I think you burned my place down, and now you’re going to blow up this building. Aren’t you!”

I couldn’t shut my mouth and run, even though that was what Farley kept screaming. Latterson had to pay for what he did. The son of a bitch had to pay.

“You crazy bitch!” Latterson growled and lunged for me.

Farley yelled, “Run!”

I dodged Latterson’s outstretched hands and ran out of the office, heading for the stairwell, screaming my head off for help in an empty building,

Even though Latterson was right behind me, I honestly thought I was going to make it. I was fast, and fear made me faster. I fairly flew down the stairs. However, Don was angry as well as scared, and that seemed to tip the scales in his favour. He caught me as I reached for the big decorative doors down in the deserted foyer.