Death By High Heels (The Kim Murphy PI Series Book 1) (13 page)

“Yes, Miss Murphy, and I’ve already given my statement to Detective Tompkins.”

“Okay. What about your clients, Brian’s friends? Any reason any of them would want him dead?”

“Now you know I’m bound by client-attorney privilege.”

“Yes, I know, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t try.”

He chuckled. “I understand and I’m glad you’re working hard to help Lindsay. She could never do anything like that. It’s just preposterous.”

“Yeah, it is. Thank you for your time.” I stood up to go. “Oh, one last thing. Does your wife know about you and Lindsay?”

“No, and I have no intention of her finding out.”

“Not now or not ever?”

“I think we’re done, Miss Murphy.”

Yeah, I kind of figured we were. During the elevator trip down to wonderful terra firma, I focused on what should be my next move. Since my office was as good a place to be as any I headed there to do some thinking. Inside, the machine was taking a message. I grabbed the phone and said hello but it was too late, the caller had hung up. I pushed play and was surprised to hear Brian’s sister, Sara, leaving a message. She said she had to talk to me about her brother’s murder. She claimed she couldn’t go to the police and I was the only person she could talk to.

I called her back but, unfortunately, the call went to voice mail. After the way she had acted when I was at her mother’s house, it didn’t make sense she would want to talk to me. She had been dealing with the loss of her brother so that had possibly played a large part in her attitude. I never wanted to feel what she had been going through. I left a message for her to call me back. Since I had forgotten to charge my cell phone, again, I gave her my home number.

I pulled the prescription bottle and mangled picture out of the desk. Something about these things still bothered me. Why would Angie hide them? Did they have anything to do with Brian’s and Adam’s murders or Angie’s disappearance?

The phone rang, jarring me from my thoughts. I put the items down and answered the phone. “Murphy Detective Agency.”

“Yeah, this is Sara Lewis.”

“Sara, how can I help you?”

“I need to talk to you about Brian.”

“Okay, you can come to my office now if you’d like, or I could meet you somewhere.”

“I can’t now, I’m on my way to a client’s.”

“Well, you tell me what time is good for you.”

“I’m working late, so is eight o’clock okay?”

“Sure, where?”

“My place, I have something to show you.”

“That’s fine.”

She gave me her address and ended the call.

Somehow I must have earned her trust; that or she was so desperate she was willing to take a chance with me. Gee, wonder which it was? Not that it mattered. If she had information that could find her brother’s killer, I’d be forever grateful, as would Lindsay. Okay, maybe not Lindsay, but I sure as heck would be.

Since I had dodged a certain client’s calls for the past two days I figured that was one job I may as well get out of the way. I turned on the laptop and typed up a report, excluding the location of the meeting and the confessions of the other members of the group. I printed it up and wondered if I was taking the cowardly way out. I was and I was better than that. At least my parents always thought so. Instead of putting it in an envelope, I left it on the desk, grabbed the phone, and called her.

“Hello.”

“Mrs. Pollowitz, it’s Kim Murphy.”

“Kim, it’s nice to hear from you but I can’t really talk right now. I’m on my way to the airport. My aunt passed away and my husband and I are leaving for the funeral.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. She was in her eighties and had a wonderful life. So, how about I call you when I get back?”

“That’ll be fine. Have a safe trip, and again, my condolences.”

“Thanks.”

Oh, thank God. I didn’t have to tell her, at least not yet. My relief was short-lived. An old lady had died. Granted I hadn’t known her, but she had loved ones who would miss her. I did a silent prayer for the deceased and her loved ones.

I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes to consider my next move.

***

“Busy at work I see.”

I jumped up and opened my eyes. Brandon was seated across from my desk; a grin on his face that looked a lot like Garfield’s when he was presented with a pan of lasagna. “What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too.”

“Sorry, I meant—”

“I know what you meant. I’m here because you seem to have forgotten something.”

“Yeah, what was that?”

“You forgot to tell Tompkins I was at the restaurant with you.”

“Oh crap. How did you find out?”

“Does it really matter? Don’t you ever do something that stupid again!”

“It wasn’t stupid. I was protecting you.”

“And just who the hell was protecting you?”

“I don’t need protection.”

“Really? That’s funny, ’cause you’re the one with a target on your back.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Angie’s missing and you’re one of the last people to see her.”

“Oh, come on. No one believes I had anything to do with Angie’s taking off. Do they?”

“Not seriously, no. We both know Tompkins won’t ignore something that big. Or have you forgotten the last time?”

“No, I’ll never forget that. Spending the night in jail was hell.”

“I bet. So what do you think twenty to life will feel like?”

“Okay, I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. So what’s going on with our case?”

“Our case?”

“Yes. I’m involved whether you like it or not.”

“Not.”

“Too bad.”

“If Dad or your boss find out, you’re toast.”

“Let me worry about that.”

“Brandon…”

“Kim…”

“Agh. Fine.” I put the empty pill bottle and picture on the desk in front of him.

“What’s this?”

“Don’t know.”

“Where’d you get them?” he asked.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No.”

“Kim!”

“Okay, I may have found them in Angie’s apartment.”

“What? Are you crazy?”

“Stop yelling at me. I’m not crazy.”

“You could have fooled me. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Look, it isn’t as bad as it seems.”

“Want to explain that?”

“Well, I went over to Angie’s after she was a no-show at Max’s Diner.”

“Then what? Broke into her apartment?”

“No, the door was open.”

“Oh, so you just let yourself in. Much better.”

“Sarcasm much?”

“Stupid much?”

“Ouch.”

“Too bad. All right, go on. You let yourself into Angie’s apartment and…”

“It was small but very clean, like OCD clean.”

“I hope you got more than that.”

“Not really. I looked around. These were the only things I found that didn’t seem to make sense. She was hiding them in a shoe box, under her bed.”

“An empty pill bottle and a damaged photo? This sure isn’t a heck of a lot to go on.”

“I know.”

“Is this all you’ve got?”

I chewed on my lower lip, debating if I should tell him about the phone call from Sara. I knew he’d be pissed if he found out about everything else, but I still didn’t want him involved. He may not have been concerned about his well-being, but I sure as heck was.

“No, that’s it.” I tried looking him in the eye but couldn’t quite do it so I stared at his nose.

“Okay, well, I’ve gotta go. If you find out anything else, give me a call. I don’t want you doing something stupid on your own.”

“So, if I’m going to do something stupid, you want to be there?” I laughed.

“You are such a pain.”

That seemed to be a common opinion of me lately. “Right back at ya,” I said.

He grabbed the pill bottle and put it in his pocket.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I have an idea. I’ll let you know if it pans out.”

“Brandon…”

“See ya.” With that he was gone.

Brothers. Before he arrived I had two clues, now I was down by one. Not that it really mattered at this point. I was at whatever was worse than a dead end. The picture was too badly damaged to make out the faces of the people. The fancy clothes worn made it appear they were attending a party.

This was no help, at least as far as the case was concerned, but it had reminded me I needed a dress for my mom’s party. Since I was my own boss I decided to give myself the rest of the day off so I could go shopping. I shut off the laptop then heard someone knocking on the front door. If it was Lindsay or that reporter, I wasn’t going to answer the door. Instead, on my doorstep stood someone who could be an even bigger problem. I calculated the amount of money in my checking and savings accounts to see if a short vacation, taken immediately, was doable. Unless my dream vacation was spending several days in Cincinnati, it wasn’t. I was stuck here. More out of curiosity than anything else, I opened the door and plastered on a smile.

“Sorry, I thought I had unlocked it.”

“Oh, that’s fine.”

“So, how can I help you?” I asked.

“I was hoping we could go inside and talk.”

“Oh yeah, of course, follow me.”

In my office I motioned for her to have a seat. “I guess I should introduce myself, I’m Kim Murphy.”

“Yes, and I’m Elizabeth Hardin.”

“Well, Mrs. Hardin, what can I do for you?”

“This isn’t easy to admit but I believe my husband is having an affair.”

Oh, for the love of Hershey’s. How the hell did I manage to get myself into these things? “Well, I’m…sorry about that, truly, but I’m…kind of busy right now. I can give you a list of agencies that would be able to help you.”

I grabbed a Post It note and a pen then jotted down the information.

“Here,” I said, handing her the paper. “You should be happy with any of these.”

She looked at the paper then back at me. “I’d really prefer to hire you.”

“Thank you, but, like I said, I can’t really handle your case. I’m sorry.” I tried to make eye contact so she would not think I was lying, but she was staring at the crumpled picture on my desk. I picked up the picture and tucked it into the top drawer, then stood up. I hoped she would take the hint. She did.

“Well, thank you for your time and for the recommendations.”

“Sure, no problem,” I said, feeling like a jerk. I wanted to shout, “Hell yeah, your hubby’s cheating on you,” but I couldn’t. Lindsay was my client and I had an obligation. I wouldn’t break it, no matter how I personally felt.

I locked the door behind her and sighed in relief. That was just too close.

Since there was nothing more for me to do until I met with Sara tonight, I locked up the office then got into my car and headed straight for the Fairfield Mall. As much as I loved clothes, I usually avoided the malls thanks to my budget. But this was for my mom and I wanted to look nice, and if the dress emphasized my assets, then that was a bonus.

The clothes in my closet were all labeled a size six. Unfortunately, the first three stores I went into only went up to size four. If I’d been a size zero, there would have been plenty to choose from. Just exactly how many size zero women were there walking around? None, unless they were walking skeletons, in which case we had much bigger problems to worry about. Two hours and eight stores later I emerged from the mall with my purchases. Thanks to a thirty percent off sale I was able to buy new shoes and a purse to go with the green dress.

Back home, I hung the dress on the back of my bedroom door then tucked the shoes and purse in my closet. It was six o’clock and my stomach gave a little friendly reminder it was empty. I grabbed the containers of leftover Chinese food out of the refrigerator and piled it onto a plate, stuck it in the microwave, and reached for a beer. I remembered my late meeting with Sara and switched to a Diet Pepsi.

When the food was ready I took it into the living room and sat on the couch. The news was on and, lucky me, I was just in time to see the stories about Brian’s and Adam’s murders. They showed a short clip that was taken in front of my apartment building. Surprisingly, my name was not mentioned in either story. Either God was looking out for me or someone a lot closer was. I was grateful for whoever was responsible. There wasn’t anything about Angie’s disappearance, so it seemed the police had managed to keep it from the press so far. That wouldn’t last long. Once she was missing for forty-eight hours it would be released to the press. I wondered about her family. Would they ever see her again?