Killer Karma

Woodworks. “He also has stores that I remember being robbed other years. Two I used to do the books for, Glass And Brass and Wild ‘N Whimsey.”

Excitement jumped in Cole. Glass And Brass was hit last year, Wild ‘N Whimsey the year before. He kept his voice even. “How were they doing financially?”

She stared at him over her glass. “I don’t remember.”

A lie. It showed in her eyes and voice. He tried another approach. “Why aren’t you doing their books any longer?”

She shrugged. “Earl likes shuffling store assignments to keep us on our toes.”

Which let him unobtrusively take over target stores. Slick. “Were you keeping their books when they were burglarized?”

She finished off her drink. “Will you order me another of these?”

Another question she preferred to duck. He waved over the waitress.

Sara crunched a piece of ice. “Earl would never do anything detrimental to the company. He’s devoted to it and Mr. Flaxx. You can almost hear him saying ‘Master’ when he talks to or about Mr. Flaxx.”

Oh, yeah. Playing Igor to Flaxx’s Frankenstein. “You don’t have to convince me of his devotion.”

The waitress brought the new drink. Sara sipped it. Cole watched wheels turn behind her eyes. “If you think there’s something criminal in the books, why haven’t you audited them?”

He wished he could read her mind. What she found in Lamper’s files disturbed her enough to call him, but now she was backing off. Maybe to protect Lamper? He hunted for a soothing answer. “I don’t know there’s evidence of anything criminal, and we can’t go on fishing expeditions.” His gut feelings being insufficient probable cause for a warrant.

Their sandwiches arrived. Sara took a big bite of her Reuben. Cole saw the wheels still turning as she chewed. She swallowed, then said, “If you could go fishing, what would you be looking for?”

His neck prickled. “Why do you ask?”

She leaned toward him. “Because I can have a look if you want.”

Current shot through Cole. Shit, yes, he wanted! Only the opportunity sat in the middle of a frigging mine field. “Why would you do that?”

“Maybe to prove you’re wrong about Earl.”

Who did she really want to convince? He stared in frustration at the mine field. He said slowly, “If I asked you to look, you’d be acting as an agent of the SFPD, which needs a warrant or it becomes an illegal search. In which case, no evidence you found, or any growing out of what you found, would be admissible in court.” Not to mention how deep in shit he would be.

Her brows rose. “What if I never asked you and went looking on my own?”

Smart lady. Beyond the mines, looming ever larger, the Flaxx Goes To Jail sign flashed brightly…irresistibly. Carefully Cole said, “If we never discussed this topic and in the natural course of performing your job you happened to come across information you felt we should know about, reporting it could provide probable cause for a forensic examination of the books.”

“Never discussed what topic?” she said without a blink. “I believe I was telling you how sorry I am about Earl’s appendicitis. If he hadn’t had surgery, Kenisha and I would be taking off this Friday and Monday in a long week end, cruising down to Baja on the yacht of a friend. Now we can’t go.” She grimaced and sighed heavily… then smiled across the table at him. “Maybe you can suggest something for me to do instead? Maybe some indoor activity?”

A bare foot on his shin, sliding upward, said she already had an activity in mind. Suspicion and anger flared in him. Was this the real reason she wanted to meet? Not because anything in the books concerned her, but to come on to him?

He kept his voice level as he reached down to move her foot. “I’m married.”

Her smile only broadened. “I do see your wedding ring. I also remember how you flirted with us at lunch.” The foot came back up his leg, this time climbing to the inside of his thigh. “Don’t tell me women haven’t hit on you before.”

He removed her foot again. “Why are you?” As if her offer to look in Flaxx’s files were not dangerous enough — if she really meant it — add sex and the situation became a professionally and personally lethal explosive.

Her brows rose. “Why not? I like older men, especially when they’re good looking, have their hair, and are interesting company. At lunch you were all charm and guileless blue eyes, but I knew there had to be more to you. You’re a cop. You’re trained to use deadly force. You carry a gun and handcuffs — not that I’m into bondage.”

No…she appeared to be into power. That was what most older men represented…status, influence, material possessions. Like her friend with the yacht. A gun and handcuffs represented power, too.

“I was right.” She sipped her drink. “Tonight you feel dangerous. You’re strung tight and your eyes have been dissecting me.” She smiled. “Don’t you find me attractive?”

A new surge of anger went through him at the manipulative sub-text of the question. You don’t want me; fine; we’re quits. I guess you’re not interested in me looking in the books. But even as that made him want to walk away…and a dozen reasons said he should…he knew she had his number. He could not make himself give up this chance at Flaxx. The trick was to play the game, too…hold her off without losing her. “Yes, you’re very attractive.” Just not his type. She lacked wild red hair and breasts that strained bras and blouses.

Her smile broadened. “Then when we’ve finished, will you drive me home?” He almost heard her purr. “I’ll fix coffee for us.”

He nodded- “Sounds good.”-while his mind raced, hunting a way out that kept her hooked. Ah…Razor could call his cell phone, pretending to be Communications wanting him at a burglary scene. She was unlikely to know that Night Investigations handled all burglary calls between six p.m. and six a.m. He slid out of the booth. “Excuse me for a minute. I need to hit the men’s room.”

“Jesus, Cole!” Razor shook his head. “There’s rule bending and there’s twisting them into pretzels. You may have blown anyone’s chances of nailing Flaxx.”

“Right now I’m more worried about Sara.” He gave Razor a rundown on Wednesday night, from leaving the office to the explosive finale.

Listening, Razor’s brows first hopped, hearing about the phone messages and calls, then rose toward his hairline as Cole described being killed. At he end, he grunted. “Damn. Where does my brain come up with this stuff.”

Cole’s stomach plunged. Of course in thinking this was a dream, Razor considered it just a dream, unconnected to reality. Somehow he had to persuade Razor to act on the information anyway. He leaned toward Razor. “This isn’t ‘stuff.’ Your subconscious is putting things together from things you’ve seen and heard without being aware of it.”

“How would I hear or see anything about Wednesday night?”

Talk faster, numbnuts, Cole hissed at himself. Or this whole visit went down the toilet. “Inference and deduction. Putting together bits you know…my lunch with the women from Bookkeeping; my Monday meeting with a horny informant I strung along; my willingness to make a long day Wednesday even longer in response to a phone call from a woman named Benay; my obsession with nailing Flaxx. You know if I were alive I’d have contacted Sherrie. This is your subconscious talking. Don’t ignore it. Do you know who in Homicide has my case?”

Razor shook his head.

“It ought to be Andy Willner and Neil Galentree.” He eyed Razor. “I don’t suppose you’d go in and suggest that to Lieutenant Madrid.”

Razor snorted. “You suppose right. Why Willner and Galentree?”

“They’re working the firefighter’s death. Somehow that has to be what’s behind-”

“Jesus, here we go again.” Razor sighed. “You’re still fixated on Flaxx? But what am I thinking.” He banged his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Of course you still think Flaxx torched his stores. You don’t believe in the suspect they have for those fires.”