Last Shot (Dev Haskell - Private Investigator, Book 6) (10 page)

BOOK: Last Shot (Dev Haskell - Private Investigator, Book 6)
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“Perfect,
I can show you.” She giggled.

“I’m gonna hit the lights in the kitchen and I’ll be right back.”

She found the bottle I’d set on the floor and had poured some of the tequila into the shot glass. She’d poured a larger amount onto the coffee table. “I think I should have a little bitty night cap before you take me to bed,” she said, then dodged my reach and downed the shot before I could get it out of her hand.

“Okay, but that’s going to be the last one. You’re going to have a pretty bad headache in the morning.”

“Probably. Come on let’s get started.” She giggled.

I helped her up the stair
case and walked her into the bathroom.

“Where’s the bed?
” she asked, unbuckling her jeans and sitting down.

“In the next room.
I’ll wait for you in the hallway. Call me when you’re finished and I’ll help you.”

“You’re
so sweet,” she slurred.

I knew where this was headed. She had maybe two minutes of life left in her and she was going to be i
n the bathroom for at least fifteen. I turned on the nightlight in the upstairs hallway then I got the guest bedroom prepared. I turned the bedside table lamp on, pulled the sheets back and placed an empty waste basket by the side of the bed.

She didn’t call me.
I just heard her fall down in the bathroom about ten minutes later. When I opened the door she was on all fours, giggling, with her jeans around her ankles. I rolled her over, pulled her jeans off then helped her into the guestroom where she more or less collapsed on the bed. I raised her up and she sat there, weaving with her eyes closed while I pulled her top over her head. As her top came off she fell backwards onto the bed with a smile on her face. I lifted her legs up onto the bed and pulled the covers up over her shoulders.

“You want to be on top, Dave
?” she slurred.

I
folded her jeans and the red top and placed them on the dresser. Marsha was already snoring as I turned off the lamp on the bedside table. I left the bathroom light on and then headed back to bed.

 

Chapter Seventeen

I’d returned what was
left of the Cuervo Gold bottle to the cupboard and washed Marsha’s shot glass. The finish on the top of my coffee table had bubbled up from the spilled tequila and I attempted to wipe up the damage. The top of the table was ruined and would have to be stripped, sanded, restained and then refinished. Not the best start to the day or a tryst.

Marsha
was still upstairs asleep, so I made coffee and breakfast. I made myself a sandwich at lunchtime. After a while, I went upstairs to wake her. She was still sleeping soundly with her head under the pillow. I’d been in the same position myself once or twice, and I didn’t have the heart to wake her. So I just left her a note saying, ‘close the door on the way out and give me a call when you feel up to it’. Then I drove to the office.

Louie wasn’t in when I arrived, but he’d been the
re. The coffee pot was empty, but the burner was still on and the office smelled like an electrical fire. I turned the burner off, opened a window and drummed my fingers on the desk, thinking about Marsha and the fact that no good deed seems to go unpunished. Louie huffed and puffed his way up the stairs and into the office about a half hour later.

“Something burning?” he asked
as he stood in the doorway and wrinkled his nose.

“You left the burner on and the coffee pot empty.”

“Oh.” He shrugged in a ‘that answers it’ sort of way like it was just a daily occurrence. “Still working the Desi thing?” he asked, then settled into his office chair and set his feet on the picnic table bench.


Right now I just seem to be eliminating options. Nothing at the Bremer Tower, that particular suite was empty or still empty. Spoke to neighbors where she used to live before she was convicted, nothing there. Spoke to a couple of co-workers at Nasty’s, but they didn’t have any information.” I didn’t feel the need to elaborate about Marsha. “I’ve still got to check with the people at Karla’s, but I’d be surprised if they were able to tell me anything.”

“You talk to the rental people at the
Bremer Tower or the maintenance staff?” Louie asked.

“No, I probably should
and will, but their testimony was in the case notes. They had no record of anyone being in that office suite.”

“Sounds like that old movie with
Robert Redford and Paul Newman…not Butch Cassidy. What the hell was it?”

“The Sting?”

“Yeah. They make that betting place look like the real deal, then fold it up and get out of town in about fifteen minutes.”

“Seem
s like an awful lot of work,” I said.


Not when you consider the millions someone got from the Federal Reserve.”

My phone rang,
but I didn’t recognize the number.

“Haskell Investigations
.”

“Dev, I am so sorry.”

“Well, at least you got my name right. How’s the head, Marsha?”

“God,
” she groaned. “At first I was afraid I was going to die. Now I’m afraid I won’t.”

“I guess there’s hope then.”

“I’m not so sure,” she said. “Listen, Dev, I really, really apologize for the way I acted last night. At least the part I remember. You didn’t deserve that and I certainly didn’t help matters. I’m so sorry.”

“Relax,
it happens.”

“I would still like to tal
k to you. I have an idea.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with your really great ass
, does it?”

There was a pause before her
groan. “Oh, God, I said that, didn’t I? I sort of halfway remember, but I was hoping I’d just dreamed it. I’m so, so sorry. Please give me a chance. I want to help.”

I was thinking
Marsha really wasn’t the kind of help I needed right now.

“I know,
I know, you’re probably thinking this isn’t the kind of help you really need right now, but just give me a chance. I promise no tequila ever again in my entire life.”

“Okay, look
, I’m at my office now. Can you make it down here later this afternoon?”

“I’ll be there. L
et me just grab a shower and get cleaned up.”

“There are spare towels in that closet at the end of
the hallway,” I said.

“Actually, I’m at my place
. I followed your directions and locked the door behind me when I left.”

“Thanks.

“Is y
our office still at the address on this card?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you in an hour and I’m so sorry for everything. And, well, for what didn’t happen,” she said and then hung up before I could ask for a rain check.

“Last night’s entertainment?” Louie asked.

I told him the story, finishing up with Marsha’s half dozen apologies.

“Well, you’re a better man than me. I would have sat there and finished the tequila with her.”

“Not what I need to be doing right now. She said she’s gonna grab a shower and be here in about an hour.”

“You believe that?” Louie asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’ll feel better once she has a hot shower and just…”

“No, I meant the hour part?” he said.

 

Chapter Eigh
teen

Louie’s point was well
taken. Marsha washed up on shore about two and a half hours later. Amazing what a hot shower and a couple hours of makeup can do to a hangover. She looked a lot better than anything I’d seen today. She carried a bag stuffed with jelly-filled doughnuts from Wuollet’s Bakery and two large Starbucks coffees. Great breakfast fare, but unfortunately it was close to five in the afternoon.

“What can I say?
I’m in the entertainment business. We’re on a different clock than the rest of the world,” she said after I pointed her timing out to her. Louie already had the better part of a jelly doughnut crammed in his mouth.

“I suppose I could take the doughnuts back, if you think that would help,” she said.

“No, no, not a big deal these things are great. I love ‘em,” Louie said, then reached for another.

“Gr
ab a seat, Marsha. You want some coffee?” I asked.

“No
, I’m on a sugar high just to chase away my hangover. You shouldn’t have gotten me so drunk last night.”

“Actually…”

“Relax, I’m kidding,” she said, then shrugged.

“So you mentioned a plan
on the phone?”

She took a moment to
lick sugar from her finger tips, while Louie and I just stared, mesmerized.


What? Oh, God, you two are such pervs.”

“Your plan?” I said
, coming back to reality.


I’m just wondering if maybe this Gaston guy would hit on me if I flirted. Maybe that would help.”

“Interesting
. But I don’t think hitting on you would be considered a criminal offense and…how exactly do you propose getting in contact with him? I’ve only seen the guy on TV.”

“I was thinking I could
do something unusual and maybe find him at his office. Try something clever and unexpected, like call and make an appointment.”

“An appointment?”

“Yeah, never seems to fail.”

She had me thinking, or at least trying to think. “But then what?”

“He’ll want to take me out to dinner and woo me into his bed. Somewhere along the way I’ll learn about Desi and I suspect a number of other women.”

“The guy is
happily married.”


Is that what they call it? Even better. From what you’ve told me he sounds like the type who keeps score. Probably lies awake at night trying to remember the names of all the women he’s conquered over the course of his life.”

Louie swallowed, licked some jelly off his lower lip and said, “The guy
’s a model citizen. He serves on boards and donates to charity. He’s a wounded veteran, a pillar of the damn community.”

“Aren’t they all?
” Marsha said and paused, not looking at either one of us. She gave the distinct impression she was thinking far beyond our immediate conversation.

“You left out the part where
he had Desi as a mistress for close to a year. That he set her up, watched her take the fall, let her do time in prison, lose virtually everything and never even bothered to lift a hand. As far as anyone can tell, he never even bothered to ask if she was okay.”

“I’m not disagreeing, but
at best it would be viewed as hearsay, tough if not impossible to prove at this stage,” Louie said as he attacked another jelly doughnut. He seemed oblivious to the glob of red jelly that had dribbled down across the front of his shirt.

“Take it from me…
just knowing a little about human nature and certain men,” Marsha emphasized the word ‘certain’.  “Desi wasn’t this creep’s first little dabble on the side. She’s just the one we know about. There were most likely women before her and there have been women after her. In fact, if we found out he brought her on board for the express purpose of being the delivery person of those files and taking the fall it wouldn’t surprise me in the least. This guy’s a real schemer.”

I couldn’t disagree
, but I still couldn’t see how Marsha getting in the way of my investigation was going to help.

“We’re still back to the same thing, trying to prove any of this
ever happened. As it stands now, this is all nothing more than unfounded rumors. Might as well be something we just made up. Old Gaston being attracted to a gorgeous woman like you, Marsha is one thing. Proving he set up Desi to take the fall is quite another…a huge leap.”

“I’m going to make an appointment with
Mr. Driscoll. Not if, but when he places his follow-up phone call, that will be the first indication we’re on the right track.”


Marsha, the guy is something like a hundred years older than you.”

“Which just makes my job that much easier. He’d like nothing better than a younger woman to remind him he’s still got that old magic.
A pillar of the community, spare me. Pull his pants down and it’s all about him. Look, I’ll keep you posted. I gotta work tonight.”

“You got time for dinner?” I asked.

“Don’t take it personal, but no, Dev. I don’t. I’m still a little bit in the recovery mode from last night. Besides, I want to call this guy’s office after five so I have to leave a message, then I’ll call him again tomorrow. I’ll take a rain check though on the dinner offer.”

“You got it.”

She stood, brushed some imaginary sugar off her front, then gave me a peck on the cheek and looked at Louie.

“You’ve got jelly
on your shirt.” She nodded to the blob that had landed on his stomach.

BOOK: Last Shot (Dev Haskell - Private Investigator, Book 6)
3.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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