The Morning After (39 page)

“It’s the Sports Center in the Montgomery Building on West Broadway.”

“I know the place.”

“But we’re probably too late,” she said, checking her watch. “The class is over in a few minutes.”

“If she’s not there, we’ll try her apartment.” He handed Nikki his cell phone as he nosed his Caddy into the street and gunned it. The big car shot forward through the dark streets. “Call Simone,” he ordered, taking a corner fast. “She’s got a cell, right?”

“Yes.”

Nikki was already punching out the numbers. Her fingers were shaking, her mind filled with dread. The phone rang.
Please answer
, Nikki silently prayed.
Come on, Simone.
Two rings.
Pick up. Oh, please, God, let her be safe.
Three rings and Nikki’s fear crystalized. Simone always had her cell with her, always answered. “Come on, come on…” Four rings and then the taped message with Simone’s voice on it. Nikki felt sick inside. “Simone, it’s Nikki. Call me ASAP.” Then she hung up and dialed Simone’s apartment. On the fourth ring, the answering machine picked up. Again Nikki left a message.

“No luck?” Reed asked grimly as he sped through a yellow light.

“No. But I’ll try her cell again. Maybe she didn’t hear it over the noise of the class. Jake always has music playing and, well, you know.” She punched out Simone’s cell phone number again, but deep in her heart she knew her friend wouldn’t answer. Might never return Nikki’s call. A dark corner of her brain feared Simone was with the killer, maybe already dead, or waking up in a coffin with a dead body…. Nikki shuddered as she listened to Simone’s voice instructing her to leave a message again.
Please let her be all right
, she silently prayed.
Please!

Maybe her cell phone was out of battery life. Maybe even now she was lingering after class, flirting with Jake, inviting him out for a drink.

Please let Simone be there. It doesn’t matter how angry with me she is, just let her be safe.

She clicked off the phone and stared into the dismal, dreary night.

Reed drove as if possessed, and yet it seemed to Nikki that it took forever to drive down the street where the gym was located. Reed double-parked and Nikki jumped out of the car. She was up the steps of the gym and through the doors before she could think twice. Jake was at the front desk, talking to the receptionist.

“Was Simone Everly in class?” she asked. “You know, my friend with the dark hair who asked you out the other night.”

Jake shook his head. “Not tonight.”

No. This can’t be. “You’re certain? We were supposed to meet here, but I got hung up and…” her voice dwindled away as she heard Reed catch up with her.

“I would have noticed. This is the first class she’s missed.”

“Oh, God.” Nikki leaned heavily against the reception desk. She thought she might break down altogether as Reed flashed his badge, asked the same questions and got no further.

“Is something wrong?” Jake asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Reed said. “But if Ms. Everly comes in, would you have her call me?” He slid a card out of his wallet and thanked Jake, then helped Nikki to the door. She walked on wobbly legs, leaned on him as he whipped out his phone and made a call. “I thought you should know that Nikki Gillette’s best friend may be missing…Simone Everly…No, we’re not certain, but here’s what happened.” He repeated the events of the night. “We’ll check out the restaurant, then her apartment…No, but I’m not waiting twenty-four hours if she does turn up missing…Yeah, I know.” He clicked off. “I called Morrisette. She agrees with me that we’d better find Simone.” He helped her into the Caddy and drove to the parking structure where Nikki had often parked, the place she and Simone had met. There, on the first floor, bold as brass, was the BMW convertible.

Nikki’s heart tumbled. “It’s her car,” she said and climbed out of the Caddy as it rolled to a stop. There were only a couple of other cars, an ancient Volkswagen bus that had once been green, and a dirty white compact, both parked several spaces away from Simone’s sleek convertible. No one else was visible and aside from the hum of traffic outside, the parking lot was silent and one of the fluorescent lights sizzled and flickered overhead.

“Don’t touch anything,” Reed warned as Nikki reached the BMW. He was only a couple of steps behind.

Heartsick, Nikki peered through the windows and noticed Simone’s umbrella in the backseat along with a couple of beat-up paperback books, a sack of groceries and a coffee cup in the holder.

“So, we know that she made it this far.”

“And it was a trap,” Nikki said, but saw no signs of a struggle near the convertible, no traces of leather where shoes had scraped on the concrete, no drops of blood that were visible, thank God. Maybe she’d gotten away, or never met whoever it was who had pretended to be Nikki. If only! Nikki crossed her fingers and sent up another prayer.

Reed suggested, “Let’s check the restaurant.”

Dread pulling at her, she nodded and headed through the open door. Reed kept up with her and managed to make another call. The streets were foggy and damp, light from the street lamps shimmering oddly against the wet sidewalks, moisture blurring the windows of storefronts.

Cassandra’s red and yellow neon sign burned bright.

Nikki threw open the doors. A hostess who had been studying her seating chart looked up and smiled. “Two?” she asked with a glance at Reed.

“We’re not interested in a table. I’m looking for my friend,” Nikki explained. Christmas music was playing and the tables and booths were half filled with customers. Waiters and busboys bustled in the narrow aisles. “I was supposed to meet her and got hung up. Her name is Simone Everly and she’s about five foot six with dark hair and—”

“She was here,” a young-looking waitress said as she cruised by with two cups of coffee on a tray. “Had a couple of drinks, martinis, and bought a lemon drop for her friend who never showed up. Left the drink on the table. Was that you?”

“Yes.” Nikki’s heart plummeted.

Reed stepped forward, opening his wallet and showing his ID. “I’m Detective Pierce Reed. Was the woman with anyone?”

The waitress’s mouth dropped open and she nearly lost her tray. “You’re a cop?” she asked, righting the wobbling cups of coffee.

“Yes. Did anyone meet her tonight?”

“No. She just waited, watching the clock.”

Nikki cringed inside.

“She drank two martinis, then left the lemon drop on the table and took off. She was pretty upset though…at you…” Round eyes rotated to Nikki. “If you were the one who stood her up.”

“What time was that?” Reed asked.

“I dunno…an hour and a half ago…around seven, maybe a little before.”

Nikki felt dead inside. Simone had been here. Had left her car. Because she’d been lured by someone posing as Nikki. Then, she hadn’t made it to the gym. What had happened? Had someone pulled her into a car at gunpoint?

Reed asked a few more questions, again left his card, with instructions to call, then eased Nikki out of the restaurant.

“Do you think she’s with
him?”
Nikki asked.

“Don’t know.” He guided her toward the parking lot as he dialed his phone again.

“But she could have gone somewhere else. This doesn’t mean that she’s with the Grave Robber….” She nearly stumbled with her next terrifying thought. Simone’s name. A derivative of Simon. Another apostle.
Don’t get ahead of yourself. Reed doesn’t think that there’s a connection.
Then, what else? Twelve apostles…
what the hell else?
Her head was pounding as they reached Simone’s car again just as a police siren cut through the night. Within minutes a cruiser sped into the lot and stopped inches from Reed’s Cadillac. Detective Morrisette flew out of the car. “Still nothing?” she asked, and slid a scathing look at Nikki.

“No,” Reed said. “We left several messages on her phone.”

“Then, let’s rope this off. You been to her house yet?” Morrisette asked.

“On our way.”

“Hold up a second. You know the address?”

“Yes.” Nikki rattled it off.

Morrisette glanced around the deserted parking lot with its cement pillars, tire marks and a few oil stains. Two other cars were parked. “I’ll get someone to rope this off, but we really can’t do anything more because we don’t know that a crime’s been committed. I’m sticking my neck out on this one, Reed.”

“But not too far.”

Another police car entered the lot. Morrisette instructed the plainclothes to cordon off the vehicle and stay with it until she had more information.

“Okay, I’m going to Ms. Everly’s house. I know I can’t persuade you to stay away, so keep it at a distance.”

Reed didn’t answer.

“Oh, hell. You just don’t get it, do ya?” she asked Reed, then asked Nikki, “I don’t suppose you have a car here?”

“No.”

“She’s with me.”

Morrisette raised a studded eyebrow, but didn’t say whatever it was that was on her mind. “Then let’s go. Follow, but keep it low-key, okay?”

“So where’s your new partner?” Reed asked, and for the first time Nikki realized that Cliff Siebert was missing.

“Off duty.”

“So are you,” Reed pointed out.

“Yeah, but I’m dedicated.”

“Siebert isn’t?”

“Let’s not go into that one, okay?” she muttered irritably as she lit a cigarette. “Okay, let’s do this thing, but it better not be a wild goose chase, Reed.”

Simone Everly kept a key hidden on a hook beneath the porch of her condo. Nikki found the spare and they walked into the foyer to be met by a little scrap of a dog that yapped and barked from the top of the stairs.

“Come on, Mikado, it’s me, Nikki.”

The dog kept up his vigil on the upper landing. Only when Nikki climbed the stairs and picked him up did the noise stop and the wiggling begin. Aside from the useless pet, the condo was devoid of life. Most of the rooms were so tidy that vacuum tracks showed on the cream-colored carpet and there wasn’t a speck of dust to be found on furniture that looked old, but was obviously new. It all was color coordinated and appeared expensive.

There were no messages on the answering machine except for Nikki’s panicked and breathless call. Nothing stored in the memory. When Morrisette called for the last number dialed, it was Nikki’s cell phone number. But there were phone numbers on a Caller ID list and Morrisette quickly wrote them down. “You recognize any of these?” she asked Nikki who was still holding the dog. Now Mikado was wagging his tail and washing her face feverishly.

“No, but then, Simone and I really don’t run in the same circles.”

“Why not?”

“We never have.”

“You’ve been friends a long time.”

“Yeah. She dated my brother and was going to marry him…at least, that was the plan until he broke up with her. That was right before he died.”

“How’d they meet?”

“I introduced them.”

“She go to school with you?”

“No…I met her in another exercise class…kind of jazz dance. It was right after the Chevalier trial and I found out she’d been one of the jurors. I tried to get close to her, you know, for a story, but that didn’t pan out. I’d already been burned on that one.” Rubbing the back of Mikado’s neck, she felt some of the old embarrassment. “Anyway, we hit it off.”

“The Chevalier trial,” Reed said, and he was deathly serious.

“Yeah.”

“She was impaneled?”

Nikki nodded and saw his expression change. “Do you know the names of any of the other jurors?”

“No, but…” Her heart stopped. “Oh, God…”

“Can we get a list of everyone who was on the jury?” Reed asked, looking at Morrisette.

“Now, wait a minute. Just because this woman is presumably missing, doesn’t mean that it has anything to do with LeRoy Chevalier.”

“But he’s out now, right? Have you heard from his parole officer?”

“Yeah, he made his appointment last week.”

“Let’s go check with him. Make sure that LeRoy’s been a good boy. And we’ll need to find out the other jurors who were on that trial.”

“What about Barbara Jean Marx. Did she ever mention it?”

“Not to me,” Reed said, “but our relationship was brief…kind of in the moment. We didn’t do much discussing of what had happened a long time ago.” He pulled out his cell phone and notepad, then dialed quickly, waiting a few seconds until the other party picked up. “Mrs. Massey, this is Detective Reed, Savannah police…Yes, I was there the other day…I’m fine, but I need some information about your husband. Can you tell me if he was ever on jury duty? The case I’m concerned about is the LeRoy Chevalier trial. He was convicted of killing his girlfriend and two of her children.”

Nikki waited, her heart drumming. She hadn’t known who the jurors were during the trial and the judge had ordered no cameras in the courtroom. It had been so long ago, she didn’t remember the names…. Slowly, she set the dog down.

“Thank you, Mrs. Massey…Yes, yes, of course I’ll let you know. Good-bye.” He hung up the phone and looked at Morrisette. “Bingo.”

“Shit. Let’s go find him. I’ll call for backup. You get her home or somewhere safe.” Morrisette hitched her chin at Nikki.

“No. I’m coming.”

“Reed isn’t even supposed to be coming,” Morrisette said, whipping out her phone.

“I’ll stay out of the way.”

Morrisette advanced on her. “Look, Gillette, this isn’t your big chance, okay. I don’t know what kind of a deal you worked with him”—she hooked her thumb at Reed and the little dog growled—“but it doesn’t hold water with me.”

“This isn’t about a story,” Nikki whispered, horrified. “It’s about my friend.”

“I don’t have time to argue,” she growled, then looked at Reed. “Keep her in line.” A second later she was on the phone. Reed, too, had dialed another number. His conversation was short. As he hung up, he said, “That was Beauford Alexander. His wife Pauline served on the jury.”

“That’s three that we know of,” Nikki said, chilled to the bone.

“So Chevalier’s picking off the jurors, one by one?” Morrisette asked. “After he got out on a technicality? Does that make any sense? Doesn’t he know we’ll nail him?”