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Authors: Kate Flora

Playing God (42 page)

BOOK: Playing God
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Nothing. He backed it up farther and tried again. This time, he got a fairly good picture of a dark car nosing into the curb, stopping, and rolling out of range. A good enough picture to see the hood ornament on the car. A Mercedes. He moved slowly forward and was rewarded again. A glimpse of a man who might have gotten out of the car and was heading toward the convenience store. A man whose tall frame and confident bearing looked familiar.

The convenience store might also have a surveillance camera. He pulled out his notebook, looked up the store, and called. "Burgess, Portland police, following up on the video store assault across the street. Does your store have a surveillance camera?" In response to an affirmative, he asked, "Still have the video from that day?"

She hesitated. "I think my husband saved it, just in case. I'll ask." Just in case what? He knew cops had been in. "Yeah," she said. "He's got it. What do you want us to do?"

"I'll send an officer over," he said. "Thanks."

"Wait," she said, eagerly. "Is there any reward or anything? We were hoping."

"Sorry, ma'am," he said. "But the department appreciates your help."

He got her name and hung up. Looked at Melia. "They were saving it for a reward." Melia rolled his eyes. "Aucoin working today or just here out of the goodness of his heart?"

"Goodness of his heart."

"Mind if I send him on an errand?"

"Hey," Vince said, "he's here for you."

"Right now, I'd say he's here for Alana." With his possessive male caveman reactions ascendant, he couldn't help feeling a little jaded and cynical about Alana. Knew, with time, he'd get over it. Cautiously, he levered his bulk out of the chair and shuffled off to find Aucoin.

 

 

 

Chapter 31

 

Burgess shambled into Alana's presence, sat down in the chair, pulled out his notebook and turned on the tape, refusing to look at her. "Talk to me about the guy in the truck."

"I told you all I know about him," she said, puzzled, not used to him being so distant. "Which wasn't much. Look, I'm sorry I ran away, but it's like, no big deal. You know me. It's not like there are any secrets."

"That's exactly what it's like, Alana. The games you play. The stuff you don't tell me. Sometimes it matters. When things are real—like people getting dead, people getting hurt, lives getting ruined. Whether you care or not, other people matter."

She folded her arms and stuck out her chin. "I know that."

"Do you? The night Pleasant got killed, you saw a guy drop the second girl off in the parking lot. A guy you thought you'd seen before. A guy who had picked you up once, looking to connect with Dr. Pleasant. Right?" She nodded. He set the picture of Noyes down in front of her. "Is this the guy?"

She picked it up gingerly. "That's him."

"All right. You saw him in the parking lot the night Pleasant was killed. He dropped off the blonde and O'Leary picked her up. See any interaction between them, her and the guy?" Alana shook her head. "Then what?"

"I told you. We went back to O'Leary's and had a party," she said. "What's with you today, Joe? You're so mean."

The door opened. Kyle came quietly in and sat down without speaking.

"This isn't a game," Burgess said. He wanted to grab her and shake her even though it would hurt him more than it would hurt her. "I'm trying to find a murderer."

"The guy in the truck followed us," she said sullenly. "O'Leary, the dumb shit, didn't even notice. Did you find him yet, Joe? Because I'm not going home until—"

"We're going to catch him and put him away, but we need your help."

"But you
haven't
caught him."

"What was O'Leary driving?"

"Some sport utility. Jeep, maybe? Maroon."

"Have you seen him since that night?" She shook her head. "Any idea where we might find him?"

"Not a clue. Ask Lulu. She might know. She likes the bastard."

"Does O'Leary have tattoos?"

She looked surprised. "Yeah. All over. On his neck and on his arms. He's got snakes around here." She circled her wrist with her hand. "Real fancy snakes."

He tossed another picture down. "Ever seen this man?"

She glanced at it indifferently. "No."

"Don't lie to me, Alana. I'm in a bad mood today."

"I've never seen him."

"You've fucked him."

She shrugged, pretty pissed off herself. "I've fucked a lot of guys. Most of 'em not real memorable."

"I've seen it on video," he said. "Thought you didn't go for pimps. So why were you screwing this guy at O'Leary's place? Why let him tape it?"

Alana fidgeted on her chair, studying a room where there was nothing to see. "I already said. To keep O'Leary happy." He waited. There was more. "Money."

"Blackmail?" A shrug. "Why you? Why not Lulu?"

She smiled indulgently, like he was a moron who needed things explained. "He liked big tits and Lulu's well... she's okay, but... God, that guy liked to fuck. There's nothing like a hungry man, is there, Joe?" She lifted her shoulders and stuck out her chest.

Kyle, who'd been sitting quietly, got up and stepped between them, parking a hip on the edge of the desk, his lank body still and slack except for his angry eyes. "You want us to put you out of business, Alana? Is that it?"

"Oh, fuck you, Terry. I wasn't talking to you."

Kyle grabbed her arm and jerked her up out of her chair, sticking his face in hers. "No more games, you hear, or so help me, I'll see that every time you go out to suck some cock, you end up in jail." He tightened his grip. "We've got no patience with this shit."

He let her go and she dropped breathlessly back into her chair. "What's gotten into you?"

"Guess I've had enough of lying, scheming women," Kyle said. "Enough screwing around. You keep giving Joe this shit and I'll show you what a hard time really is. Joe, you want a Coke?" Burgess nodded and Kyle left.

Alana stared after him forlornly. "Jeez. Even Terry. And he's usually so nice."

"You knew it was being taped?" Burgess asked. A nod. "What did O'Leary do with the tape?"

"He didn't tell me."

"You said you did it for money. If it was just trick money, why make the tape? Were you going to get some money if he sold it?"

"Yeah. He was going to sell it and give me a cut. I guess the guy was some VIP."

"So this was recent?"

She nodded. "Few weeks, a month."

"Did O'Leary often make tapes of you?"

"That was the first time. Pleasant was the second." She flicked her tongue at him. "You saw the tape? Did I look good?" He'd had enough. Better to let Kyle do this. He shoved back his chair and got up. She came after him, grabbed his hand. "Look, Joe. I'm sorry. But it's not like you don't know who I am. What I do."

"What you do is tell so many lies you wouldn't know the truth if it bit you on the ass." He jerked his hand away. "Any idea how the guy found O'Leary?"

"O'Leary said Pleasant set it up. Wanted a special evening for his friend."

Burgess stabbed Bailey's picture. "This guy."

"Yeah. That guy. So I gave him a special evening."

He switched off the tape. "Thank you, Ms. Black."

She stuck out her chin. "Think you could find me a Coke? That guy Remy was getting me one, but he disappeared. And Terry didn't even ask me."

"Terry doesn't like you much today, Alana, and I sent Remy on an errand."

"To get him away from me?"

Like the whole fucking world revolved around her! "Because I was too damned tired to do it myself."

She tried to massage his neck. He moved away. "I don't get it," she said, "You see me on tape fucking some guy and suddenly I can't touch you?"

"Give it a rest."

She flexed her fingers. Wanting to touch him. Believing that's all it would take. That men weren't like women. Didn't need to be in the mood. He said he'd find someone to drive her home.

Melia was arguing with a guy in the hall. The dull suit, briefcase and belligerence all screamed lawyer. Burgess stopped.

"....absolutely no right to question my client without me being here," the suit said. "This smacks of police harassment. I demand to see her at once and that all further interrogation cease."

"She's a cooperative witness being
interviewed
in connection with a homicide investigation. She's here of her own free will.
Voluntarily,
" Melia said. "What's your problem, Chambers?"

Chambers had a smart face, a receding hairline, and an abundance of attitude. Probably an associate at one of the big firms. It explained his late arrival. Hard to find VIPs on a Saturday, and then the VIPs had had to find Chambers and put him on the case. Burgess did a lot of crime, including white collar, and hadn't seen him around. Sarah Merchant's version of "best" had been "most expensive." Maybe that was how bankers thought. The best criminal defense lawyers usually weren't the big firm types. There was definitely a "lie down with dogs, get up with fleas" quality about criminal defense.

"You guys are my problem," Chambers said. "From what her aunt said, you guys think she's a suspect. She should have been warned."

"She was."

"Kara's just a kid. A few mumbled words from a threatening cop in the middle of the night. That doesn't mean squat and you know it."

Burgess fumbled out his notebook, opened it on the closest desktop, fished out her signed waiver and gave it to Melia. "Going to see how Stan's doing," he said.

Melia read the paper and nodded. He didn't smile. Cops don't exchange triumphant smiles in front of asshole lawyers, but his eyes were satisfied. "I'll make you a copy of this," he told Chambers.

Chambers snatched at the paper. "Let me see that."

Melia turned, his eyes cold. "I'll make you a copy," he repeated. Chambers got the message.

Kyle was watching Stan and Kara Allison on the monitor. Kyle handed him a Coke. "Sorry about sticking my oar in, but she was being such a bitch. How you doin'?"

"Been better."

"Know what you mean. Hard to leave a warm bed for this." His tired face lit, softened, thinking about Michelle. "She's an angel, Joe."

"Glad to hear something's going right." Burgess shifted his stiff shoulders cautiously. "Vince and I looked at the video store tape. Got the car that delivered O'Leary—Mercedes. Aucoin's getting the surveillance tape from the convenience store across the street. We might get a picture of the driver."

"There's progress."

"We could use some. Alana says that Randall Noyes, the guy in the truck, followed O'Leary when he drove Kara Allison to her rendezvous with Pleasant."

"How could O'Leary not notice?"

"Because he's stupid. I want Noyes," Burgess said. "I want him bad. I want to know what he saw." Remy Aucoin appeared in the doorway and Burgess held out his hand for the convenience store tape. "Thanks, Remy. Let's go watch this sucker. Remy, we're ready to cut Alana Black loose. You want to give her a ride home?"

Aucoin lit up like a child offered ice cream. "Happy to, sir."

"You're bad, Joe," Kyle said. "Mood she's in, she'll eat him alive."

"If he wants to try flying close to the light, try not to get burned, that's a good test for him. Let's leave 'em to it, go to the movies."

The tape had a date and time line, which helped narrow their search. After they watched the clerk snap her gum and pull up her bra straps a dozen times, the door opened and a tall man in a dark overcoat came in and walked past the counter. His face was turned toward the door, his hat hiding his profile. "Come on, baby," Kyle crooned, making a little coaxing motion with his hand. "Let us see your face."

Burgess leaned forward eagerly. The man approached the counter again, dropped his purchases on it, and turned toward the camera as he fished in his pocket for his wallet.

"No way," Kyle burst out. "No fucking way!"

Burgess hit the pause button. They stared at Dr. Kenneth Bailey.

"Go get Vince," Burgess said. "He needs to see this."

BOOK: Playing God
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