Lie or Die: A Shelby Nichols Adventure (5 page)

“She’s dead?” I asked, feeling my stomach drop. “When?”

“About a year ago.”

“Oh.”

“I inherited this shop,” she said. “I’m her daughter, Emily. Maybe I can help you?”

If she was her daughter, did that mean Keith was her cousin? I’d have to be careful. “That would be great,” I said. “I’m actually here about some lost money that I’m trying to find.” I listened to her thoughts, but only detected mild curiosity. Might as well get it over with. “I understand Keith Bishop worked here for a while. Did you know him?”

Her mind closed up with anger. “Yeah, he was my cousin.” She put it together. “So you’re looking for the money he stole? Are you with the police?”

“No. I’m working for the bank he robbed. Do you have any ideas or thoughts about where the money might be?”

She was thinking that Keith was responsible for her mother’s death, and that she’d always suspected he’d used the shop as a cover for something illegal. But after he went to jail there was nothing going on, so it couldn’t have been true.

What did she mean by that? “What was Keith’s relationship with your mother? Did he have anything to do with her death?”

“I’ve always thought so…although he didn’t exactly kill her,” she said, but the fact that I asked made her want to confide in me. “She died of a heart attack, but Keith was here the night she died, and they had a huge argument. At least that’s what Uncle Dean told me. He’s Keith’s dad, and my mom’s brother. Mom called Dean after Keith left, and that’s when she had the heart attack. Dean called the paramedics, but she died at the hospital a few hours later.

“Dean was so mad at Keith, I thought he was going to kill him. But he never got the chance. Keith was arrested the next day. Since mom died, Dean’s been trying to make it up to me. We’ve become partners in the business. He does all of the accounting, pays all the bills for the store, and keeps track of inventory. You know, all the background stuff. All I have to worry about is the sales end of the business. I don’t know what I would do without him.”

“I’ll bet,” I agreed. “It’s great to have someone to lean on.” Whoa, this was big. Could Dean be the partner? If he was, how could he have his own son murdered? “How did Dean feel when Keith was murdered?”

“It was bad,” Emily said, her mouth curved into a frown. “It broke his heart. He was always hoping that it was a mistake, and that Keith had nothing to do with the bank robbery. I think deep down though, he knew the truth.”

“The police think Keith’s partner had him murdered. Do you have any idea who his partner might be?”

“No,” she said. “Keith never brought anyone around here, and I’m glad he didn’t.” She was thinking that Uncle Dean had never been able to figure it out either, even though he’d spent a lot of time looking. They’d even checked out his old girlfriends.

“Could it have been a girlfriend?” I asked.

“No. He had lots of them, but I don’t think any of them could have been his partner.”

“Why not?”

“He never had a steady girlfriend,” she shook her head. “They were just flings. He wasn’t good at long-term relationships.”

“That makes sense,” I said. “Can you think of anything else?”

“No. But if he hid the money, he didn’t hide it here. I’ve been through everything, and I would have found it by now.” She’d looked everywhere, even tearing out the walls and floor in the back room looking for a false opening. It wasn’t here.

“I see,” I said, somewhat discouraged. “Well…I can’t thank you enough for talking with me. I’d like to talk to your Uncle as well. Is there a good time to catch him?”

“He has a day job, so he’s only here in the evenings,” she said. “I’ll give him your number if you like, and he can call you.”

“That would be great. Here’s my card. Feel free to call me if you remember anything else.” After handing her my card, I held up a pink teddy. “Can I buy this?”

She smiled. “Sure.”

As she was ringing up my purchase, the bell rang, announcing another customer, and I was grateful I’d gotten in my questions while no one was there. I thanked her, and turned to leave, nearly stumbling into Rob Felt.

“Will you stop following me?” I asked, jerking back a step.

“Nope,” he answered. He was thinking that I’d been in here a long time, and figured it had something to do with the money. He’d ask the clerk as soon as I left.

I was tempted to tell her not to say anything, but she was thinking he was a jerk, so I didn’t have to. I stepped around him to leave, and realized he was wearing a dark jacket. Just like the one I saw at Thrasher Development. Was he the person eavesdropping on Uncle Joey and me? If so, that meant he had to know of my connection with Uncle Joey. How could I ask him about that?

“You’re just wasting your time,” I said. “I’m working on another case, and it has nothing to do with the money.”

“We’ll see about that.” He didn’t think I had any other cases, so that was a bunch of crap. He glanced around, thinking the lingerie shop was probably a dead end, but he’d check it out anyway.

“Whatever,” I said under my breath.

Stepping around him, I hurried out the door, and got in my car. Where next? If Felt was following me, now was my chance to lose him. I pulled into traffic and headed to the police station.

Chapter 3

Walking into the police station, I paused to straighten my new ID badge. Detective Harris, or Dimples, as I called him, had given it to me after I’d helped him solve a case. This was the first time I’d worn it, and as I made my way to Dimples’ desk, I glanced around to see if anyone would object to my presence. I got a few looks, but most people just acted like it was normal to see me there. Upon reflection, it probably was, since I’d been to the station often enough in the last few weeks.

I caught sight of Dimples across the room, just as he was picking up the phone. I listened to his thoughts, and realized he was about to call me. Thinking it would be a funny joke, I hurried to his side and tapped his shoulder. Keeping a serious expression on my face I said, “I’m here. What do you need?”

“Sweet…mother!” he shouted. “I was just calling you. How did you…? Wait a minute. Whoa…that was just weird.”

I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. “Sorry,” I said in-between giggles. “But you should have seen your face!” I finally got under control, especially when I noticed he didn’t think it was so funny.

“So you’re not here because of your premonitions?” he asked, embarrassed and slightly confused.

“Oh…yes, I am.” I decided it was better to lie at this point, mostly so Dimples wouldn’t be embarrassed. “I hope that’s okay.” When he just nodded his head, I continued. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It was just…I couldn’t help it, and it was kind of funny.”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “It probably was.” He was thinking that living with me would be tough if I did that very often. It gave him a new respect for my husband.

“So…look at this.” I lifted up my badge. “Looks good, huh?” It was time to move on. I didn’t want him feeling sorry for Chris, since it made me feel bad.

“Hey. Looks great!” he said. “I knew it would come in handy, especially if you’re going to sneak up on me.”

“Exactly!” I agreed. “So you’d better watch out.” He laughed good-naturedly, and we were back to normal. “So, what did you need me for?” I asked.

“Um…right,” he said, switching gears. “I’m helping the FBI with some gang interrogations, and thought having you there might be helpful. I just finished talking to them about it, and they gave me the go-ahead to ask you. That’s why I was calling.”

“Oh,” I said. “That would probably work for me. Do you know any more about the case?”

“Not a lot, just that there’ve been several murders lately and no one’s talking.”

“Gotcha,” I said. “Are they doing the interrogation here?”

“No, at FBI headquarters. I was going to see if you could go over with me a little later, but since you’re here we could go over now. Will that work?”

“Sure,” I agreed. Since I’d come to ask him what he knew about the police investigation of Keith Bishop, I could pick his brain when we got back.

“Great. Have a seat, and I’ll call to let them know we’re on our way.”

Fifteen minutes later we walked into the federal building. I’d never been inside before, and when they asked to see my badge, I got nervous since it wasn’t exactly real. The worker scanned the barcode, and my picture must have popped up on his computer screen, because he was thinking I looked a ton better in person. What? My picture wasn’t that bad was it? Maybe I’d better get a new one.

We took the elevator to the sixth floor, and I followed Dimples through a maze of desks until we came to an office that had the name Henry Gilmore on the outside. Dimples knocked, and Henry ushered us in, introducing himself as we sat down.

“Detective Harris told me about you,” Henry said. “That you have premonitions about things.” He smiled, but was thinking it was probably a waste of time. “What do you need to do? Hold an object like the murder weapon or something?” He was thinking that’s how they did it in the movies.

“No,” I said. “It doesn’t work like that. At least not for me.” I glanced at Dimples, and he nodded encouragingly. “I have to be in the same room with the person who’s being questioned to get anything off them.” I suddenly remembered the FBI agent who had been watching my house when the Mexicans were after me, and how he thought I was a good ‘reader’, so I went with that. “It’s like I can read them…if they’re lying…you know, or hiding something…stuff like that.”

“Oh,” Henry perked up. That was something he knew about. That made sense, but there were a lot of people who could do that, and it didn’t help much since most of the gang members they were questioning wouldn’t talk.

“That’s when I usually get premonitions about them,” I said. “When they’re being questioned. Even when they don’t say anything.”

He took a big breath. That was just what he’d been thinking. Maybe there was something to me after all. He decided to take a chance. What could it hurt? “All right. Let’s try it out. How do you need to do this?”

I explained that I needed to be in the same room, and asked for a pad of paper so I could write down my impressions. “I’d rather not speak to him myself or say anything,” I explained. “I want to stay anonymous.”

“Okay,” Henry agreed.

Given my history, Dimples thought that was a great idea.

“I also might have a question for you to ask,” I added. “But I can write that down, and hand it to you.”

“Anything else?” he asked.

“Nope, that should do it.” I turned to Dimples. “You’re coming, right?”

“Sure,” he said, happy that I wanted him there. It was like we were partners or something. He liked that.

I followed Henry down the hall into a room with a desk and video cameras set up to record the interview. This room had the two-way mirror into the interrogation room. With video feed and monitors, it was a lot more high-class than the police station. Two agents were manning the cameras, and after pushing a few buttons, nodded that they were ready to go.

Henry turned to me. “You ready?”

“Sure,” I said.

He held the door open and ushered us toward the table. After we sat, Henry motioned for the agents to bring the gang member in. Two agents entered, holding the arms of a beefy young man whose hands were cuffed in front of him. His jaw was set in defiance, and his cold, dark gaze glared at Henry, then shifted to include Dimples and me. They sat him down in a chair opposite of us, and fastened his cuffs to the table.

“Hey Derek,” Henry said.

Derek sneered, thinking how much he hated being called that. Razor was his name now. He was wondering what new ploy Henry was going to try this time. Not that it would work. Switch was blood, and he’d wet up anybody who got in his way. He wasn’t tellin’ nothin’.

“Your crew’s had a hard time of it lately,” Henry began. “What’s going on? You lost your shot caller, and now it looks like you’re all tuned up.”

“What?” Razor asked.

“Switch is dead,” Henry confirmed. “Want to tell me about it?”

“No. He’s not dead. I just saw him.”

“He’s down in the morgue right now. Who killed him? Bloodhound?”

“What? Are you messin’ with me?” Razor answered. Shock spread over his face. He was thinking that if Switch was dead…it changed everything. Bloodhound was the only one who could ride on Switch, but he wouldn’t have killed him. Someone was threatening his territory, and it wasn’t anyone from around here, not with the truce. He had to find out who did this and make them pay. “You chargin’ me with somethin’?”

“Obstruction of justice, if you don’t tell us what’s going on.”

“Man, I don’t know,” Razor whined. “I keep telling you that. Whatever’s going down’s got nothing to do with my hood.”

“Why’d you run?” Henry asked.

“You know me,” Razor replied. “I always run. If they know I’m talking to you, I’m as good as dead.”

“You really don’t know who killed him?” Henry gave it one more try.

“Hell no. I didn’t even know he was dead.”

“Okay,” Henry answered. “You can go. But we’ll be watching you closely.” He knew he couldn’t keep him in custody any longer. He glanced at the agents. “Get him out of here.”

Once he was out of the room, Henry stood. “One of our undercover agents is here. Do you mind if he comes in to hear what you have to say?”

“Um…okay,” I agreed.

“Good.” Henry waved toward the mirror, and a moment later a man joined us. His head was shaved, and he was sporting a few tattoos. Baggy pants and a muscle shirt completed his disguise, along with several piercings in his nose and eyebrows. Henry sat back down without introducing us. “So…did you get anything?”

I glanced at Dimples, a little nervous about how to respond. The undercover agent was thinking this was bound to be interesting, although he didn’t believe I could help them. He kept a serious expression on his face to intimidate me, especially when he noticed me staring at his piercings and tattoos. It made him want to laugh, since they were the fake kind, and I didn’t know it.

“Well,” I said, trying to organize my thoughts. “I’m sure you could tell that your news upset him pretty badly. His next move will be to find out who killed his friend, and make them pay.”

“Yeah, that’s probably right,” Henry agreed. “Anything else?” He wasn’t too impressed, since that part was pretty obvious.

“Not really,” I said. Maybe this was for the best. I didn’t really like working with gangs. For one thing, it was hard to understand what they were talking about, and for another, they were scary dudes. That included the undercover agent.

Henry was disappointed in me, and thinking it was a waste of time to bring me in. The undercover agent held his hand over his mouth so I couldn’t see his smile of derision. I didn’t like that much, so I tried to think if there was anything else I could add. “The only other thing I picked up was that there must be somebody new in the mix, since he and Bloodhound have a truce.”

“His gang has a truce with Bloodhound?” This was news to Henry. “How do you know that?”

“I don’t exactly,” I blurted. “It’s just an impression I got, and it might not even be right. That’s just how it works with me. Anyway…the kid’s scared. Someone new is moving in on his territory. That’s about it. Sorry I couldn’t help you more.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You did help.” Henry was thinking if there really was a truce, it put a new light on things. Someone new coming in on their territory would certainly explain a lot of what was going on. But who would take on both gangs at once? It must be someone with a lot of muscle and money to back them up. Interesting.

The undercover agent was staring at me. How did I pick all that up? He’d known Bloodhound and Switch were talking about a truce, but didn’t know why. Only that a few of the gang members were being targeted on both sides. Why would that lead to a truce, unless someone else was to blame? He could probably find out more at the club. With a shrewd glance my way, he quietly left the room.

I stood, eager to leave. I did not want to get mixed up in that sort of thing, and decided then and there to stay away from the FBI. Henry had other ideas, and was about to ask if I could come back.

“I’m not sure I can come back,” I said. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, what with starting my new business, and working with the police. I mean…if you get in a real bind, you can call, and I’ll see what I can do, but other than that, I’m pretty busy.”

Henry could tell I was stonewalling him, and it piqued his curiosity, especially since that was exactly what he was going to ask me. Why was I so nervous? I hadn’t been in any danger, so that was out. Maybe I saw more than I let on, and that made me uncomfortable.

Why was he analyzing me? I thought I’d better give him something. “I’ve never met anyone in a gang before, so I’m not real comfortable with that.”

“Huh,” he said. “I was just wondering about that.” How did I know? Talking to me changed his perception about psychics. He’d never met anyone like me. I had to be the real deal. “It’s understandable that you’re not comfortable, but I hope it won’t keep you from helping us in the future.”

“Let’s just take it one day at a time,” I said, giving him a bright smile.

“Sure,” he grunted, narrowing his eyes. I hadn’t answered his question, but what could he do? “Thanks for coming down.”

I nodded, and shook his hand. After he shook Dimples’ hand, we left him staring after us. It felt like a hole was being burned into my back. Once we got in the elevator, it was easier to relax. Dimples could tell I didn’t like being there, and he could sympathize, but he didn’t understand why a gang member rattled me so much, especially after I’d been involved with some of his cases.

Of course, after what had happened with Mercer, he could see why I might not want to get involved. Come to think of it, I was a like a magnet for trouble. Add a gang or two to the mix, and it would be a nightmare. It was probably better for me to stick to just helping him.

“I’m sorry I dragged you down here,” he said. “I’m sure you have plenty to keep you busy without this too.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate that.” It was kind of funny to me that he drew the line at my helping the police, but he was probably right. “Plus, you guys pay me. The FBI didn’t even offer that.”

Dimples’ brows rose with surprise. “True.” He would never get used to how I talked like I’d heard his thoughts. “So you should just stick with us.”