Dos Equis (10 page)

caused her death never comes to light. And, as a final legacy for her wife and kid, that really blows.”

I was hit with a little blow myself. Wife? Kid? Things had really changed in Jane’s life since we’d last been in contact. JP

could tell by the look on my face that I was more than a little surprised. “You didn’t know about Marie-Genevieve and

Joshua?”

“No.” I needed to sit down for this. I crawled onto the bed and sat cross-legged, watching JP carefully.

“They were married two years ago. Joshua is one. That’s how I know Jane, how I got the job. Because of Marie-Genevieve.

She’s my sister.” After a beat, he added, “And now she’s a widow and single mother.”

I couldn’t help but soften toward JP. This was personal for me, but for him it was much deeper than that. “JP, I know all

about Millie Zacharias and Barb Harper. They hired Jane because they suspected Lynette of murdering her mother. The police

know about it too. Even if it’s true, what does it matter now? Lynette is dead. They know she killed Jane. Is there someone who would gain from Lynette’s being posthumously charged and found guilty of her mother’s death too? Are you saying that’s what

Jane would want? Or her wife?”

JP shook his head in frustration. “Russell, you don’t get it. Jane suspected Millie was wrong. In fact, she knew she was. She told me so. Lynette
did
want her mother dead. But she’s not the one who actually did the deed. She hired someone else to do it.

Russell, there’s another murderer out there.”

I felt the cold hand of fear-tinged exhilaration run its icy fingers over the skin of my back and neck. I wasn’t excited that there was a murderer out there, running around scot-free. But, as a detective, I was keyed up by the thought that there was evil on the run, and I the one fated to catch it.

“Jane knew who the real murderer was. Or at least she was close to finding out.”

There was something in his voice that gave me pause. “Well, did she or didn’t she? This isn’t horseshoes or hand grenades;

close doesn’t count.”

He looked down. “I’m not exactly sure. We never got a chance to talk about it after…”

“After…?”

“After I gave her the file.”

I just knew this was going to be good. “File?”

JP looked me straight in the eye and said, “Listen, there’s something you should know about me.”

“No thanks. Just tell me about the file, please.”

“No, wait, you need to know…you need to know that I don’t have a lot of experience at this…”

“Seriously, Sherlock?”

“What? How can you say that?” he spouted, suddenly indignant. “You’ve only just met me. How can you possibly have any

idea how much detecting experience I have or haven’t?”

“First off, break-and-enter and unlawful detainment of a fellow detective are against the rules in the PI handbook.”

“There’s a handbook?”

Oh good grief!

“Anyway, I just thought you should know this is….” The balance of the sentence was hidden in mumbling.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“This is my first case.”

“As a part-time detective?”

“As a part-time detective.”

“What’s your other job?”

“Shoe salesman.”

“I can see why you need my help.” Inwardly, I had to admit, the guy was doing pretty good for a newbie. Except for the tying me up part.

“Jane was looking into this for Millie for free. As she got deeper and deeper into it, it was taking up more and more of her time. She already had a heavy caseload. I’d been bugging her for a job forever. I just needed her to try me out. I knew I’d be great at it. I have a lot of skills. I just had to prove it to her.”

“Oh gawd. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything until she hired me. When she did, I sort of broke into Lynette Kraus’s home to see what I could find

out.”

“Ah jeez.”

“Don’t ‘ah jeez’ me. You can personally vouch for how good I am at breaking into places.”

I shot him a dirty look. “Did Jane think so too?”

He hesitated before answering. “No. Actually, she was epically pissed. Tried to fire me on the spot.”

“Tried?”

“Did I mention how charming I am?”

I decided to let that one slip by. Curiosity was getting the best of me. “Did you find anything?”

“I did. I found the murderer.”

Chapter 7

“Did you truss him up naked on a bed and sit on him too?” I asked JP Taine, when he told me he’d found Hilda Kraus’s

murderer in her daughter’s house.

JP seemed resistant to sarcasm and mockery in general. I’d have to try harder. “I didn’t find the
actual
murderer,” he told me. “I found a file called MOM.”

“You’ve got to be kidding?”

I’ve long believed that all murderers are stupid. But some really take the cake. Some, particularly the more pedestrian, oneoff murderers, tend to commit their crime before they’ve had a chance to really develop a sophisticated criminal mind. They

tend to truly believe that what they’ve done was necessary, a one-time thing that won’t hurt anybody else. They also believe that they will never be caught. So they do supremely stupid things, like keep a file called MOM. The same MOM who is now

dead.

“Nope. She had the sense to keep it in a hiding place. But I found it pretty easily. Obviously I didn’t want to hang around

there too long, so I only managed a quick look at what was inside. Just enough to make sure it was important to our case.” He whistled like a cowboy seeing a pretty filly. “And it was golden. The first thing I found in the file really told me all I needed to know. Gawd, Russell, it was so…horrible.”

I might have started panting at that point, desperate to know what he’d seen.

“It was a picture of Hilda Krause.”

“What’s so horrible about that?”

“Over the eyes…someone…I guess Lynette…scrawled two exes.”

I blanched. Lynette Kraus was one sick woman.

“What did you do?”

“I took it and left.”

I winced. I couldn’t help think about what I’d recently done in Regina. But the difference between me and Sticky Fingers

Taine was that (a) I did not break into Jane’s office; it was open, and (b) I did not steal the file I wanted; I duplicated it and put the original back where I’d found it. Ah yes, the wisdom that comes with experience.

Suddenly I was feeling like Cary Grant giving acting tips to Shia LaBeouf. I eyed up JP. I decided he was in his early thirties at least. That felt a little better. Now I was more like George Clooney giving acting tips to Shia LaBeouf. As such, it was JP—

and not I—who should feel bad. What was a thirty year old doing pretending to be a PI and selling shoes part time?

“I’m not going to comment on your thieving ways,” I noted with generous spirit. “Instead, I’d like you to tell me what

happened next.”

“I took it straight to Jane. She yelled and screamed when I told her how I got it. Blah blah blah, whatever. Then she read it.

That’s when she got really mad.”

“What got her so riled up?” I knew Jane. She was like a little block of dynamite, just looking for reasons to blow up. Her

getting “really mad” might not necessarily be particularly newsworthy.

“She didn’t tell me exactly. Not right away, anyway. We were just starting to work together. She hadn’t figured out how

awesome I am yet. But over the next while she did start telling me bits and pieces. She told me she was on to who Lynette used to kill her mother. And Russell…she was scared shitless about it.”

I watched as JP tried unsuccessfully to stifle a major yawn. I thought about what the guy must have been through over the past couple of days. His first case as a PI ends up involving a mysterious, sinister killer of old women. He finds his boss, mentor, sister-in-law, shot to death on the floor of her own office. He has to fight off a tall, handsome stranger, whom he believes to be the murderer (that was me). He realizes he has illegally obtained information about the killer,
and
that he’s in
way
over his head. He tracks me down, and somehow manages to tie me up until I promise to help him. And, I hadn’t even told him the worst of it yet.

The crazy, suspicious, little weebles who live in my brain, were suggesting a slightly different possibility. It was true that Lynette Kraus had killed herself. But what if this unknown killer, who’d Jane found out about, had somehow found out about

Jane. Could he have used Lynette’s gun to kill Jane and frame Lynette for it? This same unknown killer was still out there. Was he watching? Would he get the same murderous idea if he thought JP and I were getting too close to finding out the same truth?

I looked at the clock next to my bed. It was nearing three a.m. There was nothing more we could do tonight. JP looked spent.

I was tired. The dogs were burping up bacon bits. It was time to call it a night.

“Do you have someplace to stay?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yes. I’ve made a reservation with the couch in your den.”

We stared at one another. He tried for a smile. I headed off to get blankets and a pillow. I didn’t bother to tell him I had a guest room.

I made up the couch in the den and told JP that Barbra and Brutus would be guarding the door. When I returned a minute later with a requested glass of water, he was already under the covers. All his clothes, including DKNY briefs, were neatly

arranged on a chair. I set the water on the coffee table next to the couch and started for the door.

“When we fall in love,” he said dreamily, “I’d really like it if there was a fire in the fireplace when we sleep in here.”

I stopped cold in my tracks. Took a second. Turned around. The couch faced a dark, cool, unlit fireplace. When the fire was

roaring, it was one of my favourite places to hang out on a cold day, with a good book, the dogs, and someone special.

Instead of reacting to what he’d said, I asked once again: “How did you get me tied up like that?” It was killing me not to

know.

All he did was slowly shake his head. Then he turned on his side and fell asleep.

It was a pleasant arousal. The aromas sailing down the hall into my bedroom were sweet and solicitous. Had my mother snuck

back in the house while I slept?

Then I remembered.

JP Taine.

I jumped out of bed. The dogs had already deserted me. I threw on my navy-with-white-piping housecoat, intent on finding

out what was going on. I was about to stomp out of the bedroom toward the kitchen when I caught my reflection in a mirror. It was ridiculous, I know, but I realized I didn’t want JP seeing me looking quite so dishevelled. Really, what did it matter? I was about to kick his ass out of the house anyway. Still, I quickly brushed my teeth, rearranged my hair with the help of a dab of gel, and spritzed on just a little CK One. Not exactly perfect, but good enough. It was perfectly feasible that I’d woken up looking and smelling this way.

When I entered the kitchen, it was apparent JP had not gone to quite as much trouble with his own appearance. His golden

locks were pointing in too many directions to count, his jaw scruff was noticeably longer and darker, and all he was wearing were his DKNYs and a bright red scarf tossed casually around his neck. He looked delicious enough to eat.

He had, however, gone to quite a bit of trouble to prepare breakfast. On the table was a stack of steaming French toast,

crispy bacon, hash browns—where did he get hash browns from?—and he was just finishing up a skillet of scrambled eggs.

“Great,” he said, showing off a row of pearly whites. “You’re up. I was about to send B and B to get you.”

Barbra and Brutus were sprawled nearby, obviously suffering from a bacon bits hangover.

“Take a seat. I’ll get you a coffee.”

I did as I was told. I stared down at the lovely food. He brought me coffee. I added a dash of milk and sipped. Sigh.

“You didn’t have to do this,” I said, as I helped myself to the bounty.

“I didn’t do much. I just rearranged your groceries into a more pleasing format.” He sat across from me and filled his own

plate. “I wanted to repay you for letting me stay here last night. Especially after…well, you know.”

“Especially after you tied me up?”

“Uh huh. I love Barbra and Brutus by the way,” he enthused, obviously wanting to move on to another topic. Who could

blame him? “They’re so well-behaved.”

I didn’t know if I quite agreed with him. As far as I was concerned, they could learn a thing or two about protecting their

master from golden-haired boys with rope. Then again… “So what’s our next step?” JP asked. Eager beaver.

“Finish breakfast?”

“Then what? What do you want me to do?”

I am a lone wolf when it comes to my career. I don’t play well with others. And that’s the way I like it. But, I had to admit that JP and I had similar goals in this case, and there were things he knew that I needed to get out of him. When I did, I’d cut him loose.

“You know what you can do? You can tell me exactly where I can find the MOM file you found in Lynette’s house.” I needed

to see what Jane saw.

JP bit his lip. “It’s gone. I think that’s what Lynette came to Jane’s office to find. It had all the information we had on her, and whoever it was she hired to kill her mother. She knew it was evidence that would put her away forever, so she needed it back. She must have forced Jane to hand it over.”

I remembered the torn couch lining.

JP kept on. “And when Jane did hand it over, she killed her anyway. God, Russell, this is my fault, isn’t it? If I hadn’t stolen that file in the first place, Jane would still be alive today.”

I saw the anguish in the man’s face. This was why he’d been so intent, so over enthusiastic, so foolhardy in his attempt to get to me. He thought he was the cause of Jane’s death. He wanted to make things right. To do that, he needed help.

“JP, don’t do that to yourself. Jane Cross was a fine detective. She eventually would have found out everything that was in