the end of her entire coven.
Chapter 7
Doug had a headache to beat all fucking headaches, and if he didn’t get out of the damn nightclub in a few minutes, he was going to vomit all over these fishnet-and-eyeliner-wearing civilians. He’d been battling the loud music and flailing drunk dancers for the past hour and a half in order to question some of the people who had been there last night. The best lead came from the little waitress who looked even more out of place here than he did.
He went back to the end of the bar where Tom had been parked much of the time, interviewing Maya and Trixie. Tom was a good man and deep down, a good cop, but nothing fucked him up more than a pretty girl paying him some attention. Not that Doug was one to criticize weakness for a pretty lady, especially given his less than professional moment with Olivia in her office.
“Hey.” He nudged Tom and gave a tight smile to Maya, who was lingering nearby. “I spoke to Suzie, the waitress, and she said that Brittany was here last night with Michael Moriarty and his crew.”
“Michael Moriarty, as in the son of Tony Moriarty, owner of Moriarty Construction and our very own NYC crime family?” Tom took a sip of his water. “Guess we better pay a visit to little Michael.”
“Anything, but let’s get the hell out of here,” Doug shouted. “This music is giving me a massive migraine.”
“Thanks for your help, ladies.” Tom tossed a tip on the bar and waved to Maya, who gave him a flirty wink and blew him a kiss. Doug shook his head. Tom either didn’t see it or acted like he didn’t.
Doug pushed open the heavy wooden door and sucked in a breath of city air. He snagged the pack of gum from his pocket and made quick work of unwrapping a piece and popping it in his mouth. He still had the taste of Olivia on his tongue, and it was messing with his concentration.
“Not a fan of nightclubs, eh detective?” Damien asked with a barely hidden smile.
“Not my thing, I guess.” Doug waved Damien to the other side of the door, away from the people who were still waiting in line and hoping to get into the club. “Olivia and Suzie said that Michael Moriarty came here with a date but that she left before he did. Is that true?”
“Oh man.” Damien ran a large hand over his head, and if Doug didn’t know better, he thought the big guy was about to cry. Looked like Damien was a gentle giant. “Did something happen to her?”
“Yeah,” Tom replied wryly. “Raped, murdered, and dumped in a public restroom. So help us out. What did you see?”
“She ran out of here last night right before closing.” He fiddled with the clipboard, and his mouth set in a tight line. “She was crying and muttering something about how no one treats her that way.”
“Would that someone be Moriarty?”
“Yes,” Damien hissed as his eyes darkened.
“What about Moriarty and the rest of his group?” Tom asked. “When did they take off?”
“They left in his limo not long after that, but he didn’t ask about the girl or where she went.” Damien’s brow furrowed, and a puzzled look came over him. “Come to think of it, I’m surprised he’s not here tonight.”
“Why is that?” Doug made a note and exchanged a knowing look with Tom. “He’s a regular here?”
“Yeah. He can be found in one of the VIP booths every Friday and Saturday night for sure. Weeknights too, sometimes.” A look of contempt came over his face. “He’s been after Olivia for ages. I guess he figures that if he drops enough money here, she’ll pay attention to him.”
“Mm-hmm.” Doug’s jaw clenched, and he kept his eyes on his notes as he tightened his grip on the stubby pencil. “I can’t imagine a classy lady like Olivia would be interested in the likes of Michael Moriarty.” He tried not to sound like a possessive lover but failed miserably. “Anything else you can think of that might help us? Was she here the night before as well? Do you know if she knew Ronald Davis?”
“No, I don’t think so, but if I remember anything, I’ll be sure to contact you.” Shouts and whining from the line behind them caught Damien’s attention. “I better get back to the door. This mob can get ugly pretty quick.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Doug handed the big bouncer his card. “If you remember anything else that might be useful, give me a call.”
“No problem.” He tucked the card in the pocket of his slacks and returned to his post at the door.
Doug pulled out without saying a word, and they drove for five minutes before Tom finally broke the silence.
“I take it you’re headed for Moriarty’s apartment?” Tom rolled down the window and adjusted the rearview mirror on the passenger side. “It’s close to midnight. Don’t you think it’s a little late to be calling on him?”
“No,” Doug said tightly. “By all accounts it was out of the ordinary for him to be absent from the club tonight, and he happens to be a no-show the night after his date ends up dead? That’s far too coincidental, and besides, he’s the best lead we’ve got.”
“Okay.” Tom adjusted his position in the seat. “I can see him as a possible killer for the girl, but what about Ronald Davis?”
“Not sure yet.” Doug shrugged. “Who knows, maybe Davis flirted with one of Moriarty’s dates, and he didn’t like it.”
“You’re grasping at straws, my friend.” Tom tapped his fingers on the side of the car. “But you’re right about it being our best lead.”
They pulled up in front of Moriarty’s swanky Upper West Side apartment overlooking the Hudson River, and the doorman looked at them with disdain. Moriarty’s family owned three apartments in the building, and chances were that this guy was buried in their deep pockets, so a hell of a lot of good he was going to be.
“You can’t park that here.” The doorman waved at them with his white-gloved hand and shook his head vigorously. His gold buttons blinked as they caught the light of the passing cars. “Move along.”
Tom and Doug flashed their badges simultaneously as they exited the car, which had the seasoned doorman rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath.
“What was that?” Tom asked with a big smile. “I didn’t quite catch that. Did you, Paxton?”
“No.” Doug glanced past the doorman to the empty, but brightly lit, lobby. “We’re here to see Michael Moriarty.”
“He’s not here.” The older man clasped his hands behind his back and avoided looking at them. “He went out last night and hasn’t been back since.”
Doug and Tom exchanged a curious look.
“How can you be sure?” Tom asked. “You’re on the night shift, so what if he came back during the day?”
“When I went off my shift at 6:00 a.m., I told Bert, the day shift guy, that Moriarty hadn’t come back and to keep his eye out for him.” He dropped his voice and leaned closer, clearly not wanting anyone to overhear, even though they seemed to be the only ones around. “Sometimes the kid goes on a bender, and when he comes home, he causes a scene. His father hates it, so it’s up to us to get him to his apartment with as little fuss as possible. Spoiled brat, if you ask me.”
“So, I take it that Bert told you he never came back and that it would likely be your problem again?” Doug suppressed a grin. He could only imagine the crap this poor guy put up with from Moriarty. “That can’t be much fun.”
The doorman nodded curtly and glanced at the camera in the doorway, clearly nervous that he’d be caught talking to cops on camera.
“Would you please call us when Moriarty shows up?” Doug handed him his card. “He’s not in any trouble. We just need to ask him a couple questions.”
As Doug pulled away in the shadow of the towering steel building, he couldn’t squelch the nagging feeling in his gut that Moriarty was involved in this mess. His date had stormed out on him, then she turned up dead, and now he seemed to have skipped town. Moriarty was looking more and more like their prime suspect, but Tom was right, there was still no explanation for why he would have killed Ronald Davis.
