Authors: Isis Crawford

A Catered St. Patrick's Day (12 page)

BOOK: A Catered St. Patrick's Day

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He pulled out her driver’s license. Well, one thing was for sure. The woman was definitely Liza. Not that he had really thought the body lying in the bathtub would be anyone else. That would have been too much of a coincidence and Sean didn’t believe in coincidences.

According to the information listed on the license Liza was twenty-seven, one hundred twenty-five pounds, and five feet six inches tall. She’d listed her permanent address as her mother’s house. Sad. The wallet also contained two credit cards and a bunch of business and appointment cards.

Sean glanced at them before putting them back in Liza’s wallet. She’d had an appointment with the dentist to get her teeth cleaned next week and an appointment to get her hair cut the week after that.

She evidently got her morning coffee at Bruegger’s because she was carrying one of their punch cards, and she rode the subway because she was carrying a Metro card, which told Sean that she got down to the city on a fairly regular basis. She didn’t have too much cash on her—but she did have two hundred dollars, which told Sean that robbery hadn’t been the motive. She was also still wearing her watch and her jewelry, which consisted of a diamond tennis bracelet and two smallish diamond ear studs. Another indication that this hadn’t been a burglary gone bad. He put everything back in Liza’s wallet the way he found it and replaced it in her pants pocket.

He found Liza’s cell in her other pocket and took that out. It was a smart phone, which m {honnd it aeant it had a lot of stuff stored on it, and for the first time Sean was grateful to his daughters for making him get one, because now he would know how this one worked. He wished he could keep it and go through the information at his leisure, but his conscience wouldn’t let him do that. He was pushing things as it was. Taking evidence from a crime scene was a felony and he wasn’t prepared to go that far.

And then he thought of the next best thing. He got out his phone and used the camera on it to photograph Liza’s contact list, texts, and most recent calls. He’d never used the camera on his phone before, but he figured that that should work. Hopefully. When he was done, he put his phone away and replaced Liza’s phone in her pocket, after which he stood looking at the crime scene until he’d memorized every detail. Then he went downstairs.

“Did you find an
ything?” he asked Marvin when he got back into the study.

Marvin beamed. “I most certainly did,” he said.

He was about to tell Sean exactly what it was that he had found when there was a loud noise. The front door swung open and the Longely police poured in with the chief of police at the helm. Well, three policemen poured in, to be exact, but given the circumstances, Sean reflected that it was enough.

Chapter 12

M
arvin looked at the police and then he looked at Sean. “You told me we’d be fine,” he said reproachfully.

Sean shrugged his shoulders. “Trust me. We will be.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Lucy, aka Lucas Broadbent, head of the Longely police force and Sean’s mortal enemy. He leered at Sean. “No. I’m not sure at all.”

“A pleasure to see you, Lucas,” Sean said. “As always.”

“A pleasure to see you too, Sean,” Lucas replied.

“I have to say I’m impressed with the speed you got here,” Sean told him.

Lucas gave a modest smile. “We strive to be the best.”

“And the fastest.”

Lucas’s smile grew. “Especially in this case.”

“I find it interesting that you got here with such rapidity. May I ask how that happened?”

Lucas patted his belly, which Sean noticed had grown considerably larger since the last time he’d seen its owner. “Good police work.”

Sean almost said W
hat are you, delusional?
but bit the words back in time. “Meaning?” he said instead.

Now Lucas was out-and-out grinning. “Not that I have to tell you, but I will because that’s the kind of guy I am. We got a tip.”

“A tip?” Sean repeated.

“That’s what I just said. A tip. Getting deaf in your old age?”

“Only to fiddle-faddle.”

Lucas flushed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Sean said. “Go on.”

“We got a tip that there was a body in the house and we came to investigate. And here we are and here you are. Now it’s your turn to explain why you’re here.”

“Simple,” Sean said. “We were following up a lead on the Duncan case. As I’m sure you are aware, we’ve been hired by Bree Nottingham to help ~ain why yoin the investigation.”

“Why, I’ll never know,” Lucy said. “I told her not to waste her money. But that’s another issue.”

Sean ignored the jibe and went on. “We knocked, but there was no answer and then I noticed that the door was ajar... .”

“And you had nothing to do with that?”

“Absolutely not,” Sean replied with as much indignation as he could manage, although he had been fairly good at jimmying locks open in the past. “Check the latch if you want... .”

“Don’t worry. We will,” Lucy assured him.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Sean said, raising his voice, “I pushed the door open and we went inside.”

“And then?” Lucas said.

“And then nothing. We called but no one answered.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow. “At which point most people would have left,” he said. “Or called the police.”

“I was going to,” Sean lied. “But I was afraid Liza had come to harm so we continued on.”

“How noble,” Lucy said sarcastically.

“I think so.” Sean smiled complacently and smoothed out the front of the V-necked beige cardigan he was wearing. “Risking life and limb and all of that. I was thinking that Marvin and I might deserve a departmental medal. Anyway,” Sean hurried along before Lucy could reply, “Marvin and I had just gone upstairs and discovered Liza’s body. We were about to call you when you came through the door, saving us the trouble.”

“Imagine that,” Lucy snapped.

Sean kept smiling. “Yes. Just imagine. I must say that was very thoughtful of you.”

Lucy’s jaw muscles expanded. He stared at Sean. Sean stared at Lucy. Marvin looked at both of them and wished he were someplace else. Anyplace else.

“I could have you arrested,” Lucy told Sean.

“For what? Trespassing?”

“For interfering with a criminal investigation.”

“Oh, please.” Sean made an impolite noise. “You need to calm down. I told you we just got here,” he said.

“I don’t believe you.”

Sean put his hand over his heart. “I’m crushed.”

“Good. You’re also arrested.” Lucy nodded in the direction of one of the uniforms standing in the hallway. “Cuff these two,” he said, pointing to Sean and Marvin. “And take them to the station house and book them.”

Sean held up his hand. “You don’t want to do anything hasty now,” he told Lucy as the uniform moved toward Marvin, who at this moment was sporting a deer caught in the headlights look.

Lucy smirked. “Oh. But I think I do.”

“You have to prove your charges,” Sean told him. “If you don’t it’s not going to look good.”

“For who?”

“For you.”

“Explain that to me,” Lucy asked, clearly enjoying himself.

“With pleasure. Considering Bree hired us, she might be upset about what she will undoubtedly see as gratuitous interference with our investigation,” Sean replied. “And if Bree gets upset, then the mayor and the council board will also get upset, and if they get upset ...Well, these days they’re cutting municipal services everywhere. Look at what happened in S ha

“Pardon me?” Lucy said. “Am I hearing correctly? Did you just insult me?”

“Not at all. I didn’t say that you were a twit,” Sean replied. “I just said you would look like one.”

Lucy flushed and took a step forward.

“Not that you are,” Sean said quickly. “I never meant to imply that. But you know what people are like. Always thinking the worst.”

By now Lucy was practically nose to nose with Sean. “We’ll just see what’s what,” Lucy said. ”I want to know what you took out of here.”

Sean did a fairly good imitation of wide-eyed innocence. “What’s there to take?” he asked.

Marvin’s head swiveled back and forth watching first one man and then the other. He felt as if he was at a tennis match.

“Empty your pockets,” Lucy commanded.

Sean shrugged and did as told. “Satisfied?” he asked Lucy as Lucy looked down at the contents of Sean’s pockets, which were now sitting on the dining room table.

“No. I’m not,” Lucy said as he picked up each item, scrutinized it, and put it down.

Sean knew this was all for show; the only thing Lucy was good at was looking as if he knew what he was doing. But there was always a possibility that Sean could be wrong. He forced himself to breathe normally when Lucy picked up his cell phone by reminding himself that Lucy was even less technologically adept than he was and therefore could not have possibly figured out what Sean had done with his camera.

Lucy turned to Marvin. “Now you,” he ordered.

Marvin hastily complied.

“Can we go now?” Sean asked as he took his stuff back.

Lucy pushed Marvin’s belongings back to him. “Yeah. Get out of here. But if I find anything missing ...”

“I know,” Sean said, finishing the sentence for him. “You’ll come and have me arrested.”

“That’s one hundred percent correct,” Lucy said. Then he told the policeman to let them go and turned and went up the stairs.

“The question,” Sean said to Marvin once they were out the door, “is who supplied the tip.”

“No,” Marvin countered. “The question is why I let you talk me into these things in the first place.”

Sean clapped him on the back. “Simple. Because it provides a degree of excitement your life lacks. Plus I’m your girlfriend’s dad, so you need to be nice to me.”

“Yeah. But then I catch hell from Libby for allowing you to get into these situations.”

“Just don’t tell her,” Sean suggested. “I know that I won’t.”

“You may have a point,” Marvin conceded.

“Too bad I didn’t get to see what you found on the laptop,” Sean said, switching topics. “All we needed was five minutes more.”

Now it was Marvin’s turn to grin. “You can see it. I copied the files.”

“With what?”

Marvin dug out his thumb drive. “With this.”

“It’s so tiny,” Sean marveled.

Marvin’s grin got bigger. “It’s large enough to store what we need to.”

They started walking to Marvin’s ho Man>earse.

“See,” Sean said, leaning on his cane. “I told you things would work out.”

“They nearly didn’t,” Marvin objected.

“Piffle.”

“Piffle?”

“Yes, piffle. It’s an old word that means nonsense.”

“How old are we talking here?”

“Before you were born old. Now tell me about the files,” Sean urged.

“I think I’d rather you see them. I have a laptop in the car,” Marvin said, anticipating Sean’s next comment.

Sean didn’t say anything, but he was beginning to gain respect for Marvin’s technological prowess.

A moment later, both men were sitting in the hearse. Sean rolled down the window and lit a cigarette. He figured he’d earned it. He watched curiously as Marvin reached under the seat, pulled out his laptop, opened it, and inserted the flash drive in it. A few seconds later the Flash ’n’ Go icon came up on the screen. Marvin hit the file called Watch This and turned the screen toward Sean.

“Have a look,” he said quietly.

Sean did. He was looking at pictures of Liza and Liam having sex. Marvin hit the mouse again. There was a picture of Connor and Liza. Next came a picture of Patrick and Liza. As Sean looked at them he was grateful to Marvin for showing him the photos in private. He would have found it embarrassing to see them with his daughters.

“Busy girl,” was Sean’s only comment.

“The pics could be Photoshopped,” Marvin suggested.

“Meaning?” Sean asked.

“They might not be real, Mr. Simmons.”

“Wouldn’t that be hard to do?” asked Sean.

“Not really.” And Sean listened while Marvin explained how it could be done. “Just a thought,” he continued. Then he said, “I wonder if Duncan knows,” as he logged out and shut down the computer.

“Only one wa
y to find out,” Sean said as he focused on the ambulance pulling up next to Renee Connor’s house. “Ask him.”

A moment later, two men got out and pulled out a gurney. Sean told Marvin to go. They didn’t need to be there to see Liza’s body carried out.

“This isn’t good for Duncan, is it?” Marvin asked as he put the hearse in gear.

“Probably not,” Sean allowed. “Probably not.”

BOOK: A Catered St. Patrick's Day

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