Chocolate Girls with Golden Hair (21 page)

"Whatever you say, Ms. Givens,"
Detective Lane said.

"I'm sure I wasn't the only person
here, besides Bruce Colby, I mean."

Detective Uhler examined his small note
pad, then the sign-in sheet.

"There is a record here of Ms. Bell
signing out at about six thirty."

"And what does that tell you?" she
asked him.

"It tells us that you, Bianca, Bruce
and God knows who else were here in this office last
night."

"Well, for the record. I did not kill
Bruce Colby. I'm sure it's the question on everyone's
mind."

"We'll make firm note of your firm
denial," Detective Lane said. "For the record."

"Is there anything else you want to
tell us?" Detective Uhler asked.

"No," Camina said.

Detective Uhler glanced over his notes
and then glanced over at Detective Lane. "It seems Ms. Bell came in
this morning and immediately left back out."

That was all Camina needed to hear. It
was so obvious who the culprit was.

Camina pushed her chair away from the
table and stood up. "I guess you won't be needing me
anymore."

"I didn't hear you ask if you could
leave," Detective Lane said.

"May I leave?"

"You may leave," Detective Uhler said.
"But we'll talk again."

As Camina moved towards the door,
Detective Lane stepped to the door and opened it for her. His one
gentlemanly act failed to change Camina's image of him. She still
saw him as a smart ass with a badge.

Camina was about to step through the
door when the same uniformed police officer rushed in.

"Detective Uhler, remember the other
woman, Michelle Moore, the one who called in sick?"

"Yeah."

Camina stood still, listening, her eyes
on the police officer.

"She just showed up," the police
officer said.

"What is this?" Detective Uhler said.
"Everyone wants credit for this murder?"

Through the conference room door and
down the clustered corridors, Camina hustled through. She was glad
to be out of the hot seat and relieved that they were through with
her. She wanted to talk to Michelle before the detectives made
their mark and warn her of what to expect. But most importantly,
she wanted to know what Michelle knew.

Camina approached a pack of people in
the reception area and saw Rollie talking to one of the police
officers. Patiently, Camina stood across from them and waited for
them to finish, trying not to look too obvious. When Rollie
separated from the police officer, Camina trailed behind him. She
was practically on his heels when he turned around, and they almost
smashed into each another.

"Sorry," Camina said. "Do you know
where Michelle is?"

"She's in the small conference room on
the east side," Rollie said. "They're going to question
her."

"Thanks."

On that note, Camina hurried to the
east side of the office. She made her way into the conference room
and saw Michelle at the table. Michelle appeared dreary eyed and
half asleep. In front of her were notes of paper and receipts of
some sort.

"Hey," Camina said as she closed the
door behind her. "I guess you heard what happened." Camina crumbled
in the seat next to Michelle.

"I don't understand why they want to
talk to me," Michelle said. "I wasn't even here last
night."

"With the description Rollie gave to
them, they're covering all tracks."

Camina leaned closer to Michelle.
"Listen," she said in a whisper. "They're on their way down here so
I have to say this fast. We both know who killed Bruce."

A surprised look flashed over
Michelle's face. "We do?" Michelle asked.

"Of course we do. It was Bianca or
BeeBee, whatever she calls herself these days."

"We don't really know that."

"Who else could it be? It wasn't me,
and it wasn't you."

Michelle seemed to ponder the
thought.

"Plus they found his ring and belt in
her desk drawer," Camina said.

"How do you know this?"

"I overhead the police officer telling
one of the detectives. They're going to ask you some questions and
try and shake you up. Just tell the truth, and you'll be all
right."

"Why are you so concerned, not to sound
ungrateful, but it's so unlike you."

Before Camina could reply, she turned,
saw Detectives Uhler and Lane coming through the door. Camina
witnessed the suspicious look on their faces. Not the least bit
intimidated, she stood up. "I was just leaving."

"Michelle Moore?" Detective Uhler
questioned.

"Yes."

"I'm Detective Uhler and this is
Detective Lane," he said, as he seated himself across from her,
holding his tiny note pad in hand.

Detective Lane stood by the door, his
hands in his pockets.

"Was that a friend of yours?" Detective
Uhler asked.

"Yes, we're friends."

Detective Uhler peaked at his
notes.

Michelle stared down at the table in
front of her. This whole experience unnerved her, and she could
only continue if she shared no eye contact with them.

"We'd like to ask you some questions
about last night."

"I thought so."

"How late were you here last
night?"

"I was here until almost five, left
promptly because my boyfriend and I had dinner plans. I have
everything written down for you."

She handed him a handwritten list, then
returned her hands to a neatly folded position in front of her.
Before Detective Uhler could even read the list, Michelle
continued. "We had reservations so you can call and verify that.
After dinner, we saw a movie at 600 Michigan Theatre, and I have
the ticket stubs right here. The ticket agent will remember us
because─"

Detective Lane interjected, as she sat
down.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but why are
you staring down at the table. Your answers might be a bit more
convincing if you looked up when you spoke."

Still very nervous, she continued to
stare down at the table though she tried to accommodate his wishes.
She lifted her head and looked in Detective Lane'
direction.

"Thank you," Detective Lane said. "Go
on."

Michelle held a straight face devoid of
any emotion as she continued. "After we left the movie theater, we
went back to my place, showered and made love until about
three-thirty this morning, which explains why I was a little too
out of it to come in. We awakened early, made love again and here I
am."

The detectives peered at each other,
exhausted just listening to her.

She returned her eyes to the table in
front of her. "Now. Is there anything else you want to ask
me?"

"Did you kill Bruce Colby?" Detective
Lane blurted out.

"I wasn't even here."

"Just answer the question."

"No. I admit when he used to make
vulgar remarks about my hair and figure, I was a little angry with
him, especially since I knew that he was married, but that was
that."

"So what happened?" Detective Uhler
asked.

"Nothing happened. I told him where he
could get off."

"And what did he say to that?"
Detective Lane asked.

Michelle glanced over at Detective
Uhler, then Detective Lane. For a moment it appeared as if they
were enjoying this line of questioning and would not be satisfied
until she answered all of their questions, no matter how
trivial.

"When I told Bruce I wasn't
interested," Michelle said. "He informed me that he was going to
change my mind."

"Did he?" Detective Uhler
asked.

"No, he didn't."

"You never slept with him?" Detective
Uhler asked.

"No."

"Never?" Detective Lane asked
again.

For a moment, Michelle remembered
Camina's warning. Obviously, the word no seemed to be an
unacceptable answer, as if they thought asking her the same
question over and over would somehow produce a different
answer.

Out of annoyance, Michelle exhaled a
deep breath. "Never. I never slept with him."

From the long silence in the room, they
seemed unsatisfied with her answer.

"No," she said. "The answer is still
no. N-O. I did not sleep with him, and I did not kill
him."

A faint smile arose on Detective
Uhler's face before Michelle returned her point of focus to the
table in front of her.

"Why did you call in sick this
morning?"

"I told you already. I had an
exhausting night."

Detective Lane interjected, scooting
closer to her. "Then why did you later come in?"

Michelle lifted her head and turned
away from him. "I found out what happened and thought it might be
in my best interest to come in so that I wouldn't look─"

"Guilty?" Detective Lane asked,
finishing her sentence.

"Yes." Michelle turned to face
him.

Detective Uhler glanced over his notes,
seemingly confused.

"What I want to know is how a strong
man like Bruce Colby could be strangled by a woman?"

"Rage has a way of giving people an
exorbitant amount of strength," Michelle said. "Then again, maybe
it wasn't a woman. Maybe it was a man dressed as a woman, wearing a
wig. Did you think about that?"

Michelle witnessed the stunned look on
Detective Uhler's face as he glanced over at Detective Lane, as if
considering the possibility of her words.

Michelle was relieved because she
believed she successfully threw them off her trail. To give them
even more to think about, she added. "And he did have a heart
condition."

"What do you mean, heart condition?"
Detective Lane asked.

"He was on some kind of
medication."

"Who else knew about this?" Detective
Uhler asked.

"A lot of people."

"Did Ms. Givens know about
this?"

"Maybe."

Detective Lane grabbed the ticket stubs
from the table, examining them with a meticulous eye. He seemed to
study them for a long time. He then directed his attention to
Detective Uhler.

"Now this is interesting," Detective
Lane said.

"What?" Detective Uhler
questioned.

Detective Lane handed the ticket stubs
to Detective Uhler. Detective Uhler scratched his forehead as if he
stumbled onto something. "I can't believe I missed that," Detective
Uhler said.

A blank look graced Michelle's face as
she suffered in silence, wondering what they saw that she
didn't.

"This ticket stub is for the 15th of
November."

Clueless, Michelle waited for his words
to sink in, but she wasn't grasping it.

"So?"

"Last night was the 22nd."

"Let me see that," she said. In
disbelief, Michelle reached for the ticket stubs, scrutinized them
with a careful eye and focused in on the date. To her dismay, they
were ab2solutely right. How could she have made such a big
mistake?

If they believed her before, they sure
as hell didn't anymore. Even though she was definitely where she
said she was, she failed to prove it. Instead, she unintentionally
destroyed her wonderful alibi. With a don't-tell-anyone-I'm-stupid
look flashing over her face, she stared down at the table in front
of her and picked up her face. "I don't know what to say. I must
have grabbed the wrong ticket stubs by mistake."

"Do you always keep old ticket stubs?"
Detective Uhler asked.

"Sometimes."

"Why?" Detective Lane asked.

"I don't know, a habit I
guess."

"Are you sure you were at the movies
last night?" Detective Lane asked.

"Yes," Michelle said sharply after
having maintained a certain amount of composure thus far. "I have
the ticket stubs from last night. I just have to get
them."

Both Detectives Uhler and Lane
displayed a doubtful look on their faces as they simultaneously
removed their glasses at the same time.

"They're at home," she said. "I can go
home and get them."

Detective Uhler ignored her suggestion,
scribbled some notes on his note pad and stood up. "You can go, Ms.
Moore."

Michelle didn't hesitate. She rose up
fast and moved towards the door.

"Ms. Moore," Detective Uhler said.
"Don't go too far. Okay?"

Moments later, Michelle was
gone.

With each passing minute, Bianca felt
her world growing dark as she stood in the shower, her back against
the wall. She turned off the water, but didn't move for a long
time. In a coma like state, she pondered, hoped and prayed for this
day to be over. She considered returning to her office, but she
couldn't, not yet. It would look too suspicious, but then again if
she didn't return, they would come for her. After all, she was a
suspect.