“About six months ago, I think.”
The phone on her desk rang, and Crowley leaped for it. She turned her body away from her visitors as she said, “Yes, yes, I’ll be happy to. Now is fine.”
She hung up the receiver.
“The police are here,” she said to her visitors. “Piper’s parents called them. I’m sorry about that, but Danny has kidnapped Piper. I won’t sleep until we have that child back with her family.”
CHAPTER 68
Justine had dropped Scotty off at his surveillance assignment in the warehouse district, then forced herself to call Tommy Morgan. It felt a lot like walking over broken glass. At night. In a hailstorm. With a stick in her eye.
He was still in his office and had taken her call.
“Tommy, I’ve got a question.”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“Were you at Blue Skies while Danny Whitman was there?”
Tommy had said, “Ahhh. I can’t talk now, Justine. How about dinner?”
She’d had to say okay, and added that Private would pick up the tab.
Now they were at Providence, one of the top restaurants in the country, a modern place, elegant but not sexy. That’s why Justine had chosen it. She wanted Tommy to feel flattered and well treated, without giving him any false signals. He’d hit on her before.
They were at a table in the corner, candlelight flickering, wineglasses in their hands. Providence was known for its fine seafood. Even red-meat lovers agreed that wild salmon with thin shavings of mushrooms could taste far better than steak.
Tommy was having a sirloin and apparently enjoying it. He sat back in his chair and looked at Justine, smiling as he chewed.
Justine sipped her wine, struck once again that Tommy looked exactly like Jack. He had the same dark blond hair and hazel eyes, identical build and posture-but in all the ways that counted, Tommy was precisely Jack’s opposite.
Where Jack was altruistic, Tommy was craven. Where Jack would give a person his full attention and really listen, Tommy would fix his eyes on you and try to manipulate you, find weaknesses to use against you.
He said, “I don’t know how much I can tell you about Danny Whitman. He was a weird little dude. And we weren’t buddies. Why do you want to know?”
“He’s a client.”
“Does Jack know that we’re having dinner?”
“He will when I put in my expense report.”
Tommy laughed, and Justine waited him out. Then she asked again, “Why was Danny Whitman at Blue Skies?”
“Depression, I think. He looked depressed, but he could have been there for other reasons. He saw his shrink and he kept to himself.”
“But you talked with him?”
“Jeez, Justine. We didn’t open up our hearts,” Tommy said. “Celebrities, you know. They keep to themselves if they’ve had enough experience with people selling their stories to the tabs. And now my turn. How is Jack? I haven’t heard anything since he went off to jail.”
“He’s out now.”
“Why do you think he killed Colleen?”
“Come on, Tommy. You know he didn’t kill her.”
“No, Justine, you come on. I think he did it.”
“He had no reason to do it. None.”
“Maybe he just snapped. You don’t know that Jack has a temper? I tell you from firsthand experience, he can throw a punch that cracks your jaw in three places.”
Tommy took off his jacket, made a production of rolling up his right sleeve. He showed Justine an old scar about five inches long, just above his elbow.
“This is from the time he broke my arm,” Tommy said, “over who got to ride in the front seat.”
Tommy was vile. She hated him. She knew to keep her thoughts to herself, but he’d given her an opening, so she took it.
She smiled and said, “I hope that really hurt.”
“Man, you still love the guy.”
Justine signaled to the waiter for the check.
“Anything else I can help you with?” Tommy asked. He was smirking.
“Sure, leave Jack’s clients alone. And confess to the police that you murdered Colleen or that you had her killed.”
“I can’t do that, sweetie. I can’t confess to something I didn’t do, just to make you happy. But I would do a lot of other things to make you happy. How about letting me take you out on what’s referred to as a ‘real date.’ ”
“This was our date, Tommy. First, last, and only.”
CHAPTER 69
I was waiting for Jinx at the bar on the pool deck, having a long, tall Perrier on the rocks. I was enjoying how the sunset was painting pink light on the pool, when she slid into the seat next to mine.
“Hi, Jack. Sorry I’m late. I got stuck at the office.”
“It’s okay. I like it here.”
Jinx smiled. “I’ve heard you’ve been having a rough time in the last few days.”
She smelled sweet, like jasmine. She was wearing midnight blue, a silk tunic, tight pants, gold sandals on adorable feet. Her diamond necklace caught the light.
“Jail is an enriching experience,” I said. “I got to see the other side of the fence. Take it from me, the grass wasn’t greener.”
“You look like you took a beating.”
“Part of the enrichment program.”
I’d meant to get a laugh, but she reached out and touched my bruised jaw. I let her do it.
“I tripped,” I said.
“A bad trip, looks like.”
I smiled at her. She put her elbows on the bar, asked the bartender for a gin and tonic. It was an unguarded gesture, and I saw her through it. She was right there, the woman who had asked for my help because she was being haunted by killings-and because she could lose everything she had.
I said, “We’re working on your case, Jinx, but if you want to take your business elsewhere, I understand. More than that, there’s no charge for the time we’ve clocked.”
“The cops are hopeless,” she said.
“You mean the cops are hopeless too.”
“This time last month, there was standing room only at this bar.”
“We’ll keep working if that’s okay, Jinx. If we don’t get results, you don’t owe us anything.”
“You’re making a compelling case for me to stay with Private.”
Finally she smiled. “I should admit something,” she said. “I like you, Jack.”
I had an awkward moment because I wasn’t sure how to respond. Whatever she was thinking, friendship or more, it wasn’t a good time for me. It was the worst.
