Fortunately we found a stairwell before we reached the kitchen. It was right next to the bank of service elevators. I didn’t dare take those. Who knew where they’d open up or who’d be waiting on the other side? No, the stairs were a better option.
The stairwell was one of those ominous places with ringing metal steps and lots of echoing concrete walls. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead turning skin sallow. It was exactly the sort of place I expected some evildoer to jump out of the shadows and attempt ghastly murder. However, we made it to the lobby floor unmolested.
There was no window in the stairwell door, so I pushed the door open a crack and peeked through. Cheryl crowded up behind me, trying to get a look.
“Would you stop?” I hissed.
“I can’t see.”
“Neither can I.”
The door suddenly swung open, and I crashed face first to the floor, Cheryl landing on top me. We both let out unladylike squeals followed by oomphs.
A pair of scuffed, black leather shoes appeared in front of my nose. “Well, well. Ms. Roberts. And her sidekick. Why am I not surprised?”
I pushed dark locks of hair out of my eyes as I glanced up to find Detective Costa staring down at us, arms crossed over his broad chest. He did not look happy to see either one of us.
“Oh, Detective. Hi!” Cheryl said perkily, scrambling off me with a few well-placed jabs of her elbows—sharp elbows, at that. “How’s it going?” I could tell her innocent tone did not fool Costa one bit.
I heaved myself to my feet a little more slowly than Cheryl had. In part because I’d been the one to hit the floor. In part because I was putting off dealing with Costa and his disapproval.
“Hello, Detective,” I said coolly, brushing off my navy capris, though there wasn’t a speck of dirt on them. The Don CeSar kept their floors pristine. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Costa said nothing. He just tapped one foot on the marble floor, arms crossed over his impressive chest.
“What’s going on?” I tried to peer around him, but he was a bit on the broad side, and all I could see were cops everywhere and a bit of crime scene tape fluttering in the wind from the open front door. “Having a party?” I laughed, but it came out a little strained.
“Are you investigating what happened to Viola?” Cheryl asked. I couldn’t tell if she was playing along or if she was actually serious. I couldn’t imagine Costa would care one whit about finding out who’d pushed me. More like he was wishing they’d finished the job.
He gave Cheryl an exasperated look. “I’m a homicide detective, Ms. Delaney. I’m not in the habit of investigating accidents.”
Cheryl snorted angrily and shot Costa a glare. “That was no accident, and you know it. Otherwise, why would you have come out the minute you heard about it?” She arched one dark eyebrow and crossed her arms, mirroring Costa’s stance. I was impressed. I didn’t know Cheryl could have quite so much chutzpah in the face of such an imperious jerk.
“Be that as it may,” he said imperturbably, “this investigation is none of your concern.”
“What investigation?” I asked, ears perking up. “Are you telling me there was a murder here? It’s related to Natasha’s death, isn’t it?” I watched his face closely; otherwise I might have missed the slight twitch of jaw muscle. “It is!” I crowed. “But how? Who is it? Who was murdered?”
Costa pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Just go home, Ms. Roberts, and leave the investigating to the professionals.”
“Can’t go home,” I said smugly. “I live in Oregon, and my flight isn’t until Monday.”
He literally groaned. I had to hold back a laugh.
“To your hotel, Ms. Roberts. Go back to your hotel.”
“This is a free country last time I checked. I can stay here until you-know-where freezes over,” I said even more smugly. Taunting the devil probably wasn’t smart, but I was hoping that if I goaded him enough, he’d let slip some information useful to my investigation.
Costa looked ready to explode. “Ms. Roberts...” There was a warning edge to his tone. I figured I’d pushed his buttons hard enough for one night.
I held up my hands placatingly. “All right. I’ll go. But at least tell me who died. Maybe I can help. I did find the first body, after all.” I winced realizing I’d just reminded him of my suspect status.
“Believe me, I haven’t forgotten.” He lifted a hand and waved over a uniformed officer. She hurried to his side, eyes wide, body thrumming with excitement.
“Yes, sir?”
“Crowley, please escort these ladies off the premises. Make sure they get a car back to their hotel.”
“Yes, sir!” Crowley’s tone was a little perkier than I thought correct for a police officer. It was clear she was young and eager to please. Maybe I could use that to my advantage.
“This way, ladies.” Crowley waved us toward the front entrance. Cheryl dutifully did as Crowley asked, but I lingered at the policewoman’s side, keeping pace with her.
“Officer Crowley, is it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I held back a wince at the “ma’am,” reminding myself it was a Southern thing. It had nothing to do with my age. Much.
“How long have you been a police officer?” I gave her a wide-eyed, innocent look.
“A year and a half, ma’am.”
“Wow! And here you are on a homicide already. How exciting! Not the person dying, of course,” I rushed to add, “but it’s kind of a big deal, isn’t it?”
“It is quite an honor working with Detective Costa, yes.” She practically beamed with excitement.
“I just ask because I’m a
