Cry Me a River Page 3

  "Look, you've got to go…"

  "Okay, okay. I overheard one of the girls at the vet the other day—"

  The other day being the day Dr. Shone had called to tell me my Pomeranian was disrupting her clinic. I don't have a Pom, and neither do I have a Dachshund, but Marty had agreed to take on a more human friendly form. "And…?"

  His voice rose excitedly, "She said there's going to be a Wiener Derby at Mardi Gras this year. I wanna go." He jumped straight into the air, nearly bumping his head on the roof, wiggling his long weenie backside, the tail going swat, swat against the vinyl seat.

  "What's that got to do with me, Marty?"

  He plopped down on the seat exasperated. "I need a parent… to fill out the forms and handle me, Tempest. Pleeeease, I don't have anyone else to ask." His head sank down against his skinny black chest then he tilted it strategically and looked up at me with sorrowful dark eyes.

  Tires crunched on the pavement outside. A fine sleuth I'd make. I'd missed Will Crain's exit from his house. He was going somewhere. I had two choices. I could follow him, or… I had a sudden inspiration. No one should be surprised.

  I turned to Marty. "Okay, I'll make you a deal." He gave me a wide toothy smile and yipped as I watched one taillight disappear from view.

  I was going to be in so much trouble if anyone found out about this.

  * * *

  Tempe

  8:45pm And another plan bites… the dust?

  * * *

  I don't know why Marty didn't just change into Imp form and travel in a more efficient manner. He seemed to get a kick, or a challenge, out of using those short stubby legs to bounce along beside me, jumping over roots and downed trees as we made our way through the strip of woods to the back of Will's house. I know what you're thinking—another B&E. Well, you'd be right. Somehow it just didn't seem wrong to try to get a heads up on a criminal. Besides in my case, with menori operational, I didn't think there'd be any breaking going on. That was one talent that I could depend on.

  But when we arrived at the back door, no talent or tools were necessary. The door was open, the only thing standing between us and a little stealthy scavenging was an old wooden, unlocked screen door. I smiled. Then I realized if he'd left the house open he was probably on a short trip to the closest convenience store for beer. "Come on, Marty, we have to be fast."

  He jumped through the hole in the screen as I reached for the door, at the last minute using my t-shirt around the handle to open it.

  The place reeked of cigarettes and trash. My eyes watered as the pungent odors assaulted my highly reactive senses. I let menori off her leash and began checking the rooms. Number one on my list was to see if my brother was here, though I already knew from the way Will had left the house open and left himself in full view earlier, River wasn't being kept here. Menori was having a hard time picking up anything concrete. The foul smell of trash, smoke and general pollution of the property was interfering with her accuracy.

  I didn't really know if menori was male or female, but I couldn't quite wrap my mind around a male Qi living inside of me. So until I knew for sure, I was believing it was a 'her'. Or it could be an it. Why had I never given it more thought, and why now? Zeus' hairy bum, Tempe. Get busy.

  The bedrooms were sparsely decorated except for the one where Will slept which was a wreck. The whole place was a housekeeping nightmare. When Will did move out, the only way to clean it would be to call in a HAZMAT team. A sound filtered through my thoughts and Marty growled low in his faux doggie throat. A vehicle was approaching. Already?

  I ran to the window in the bedroom that faced the front yard. Sure enough, Will was returning. I caught a glimpse of him in the cab talking on his phone and hissed, "Out, Marty. Now." I took one more, quick glance around the living room and followed him out the back door, pushing the screen shut as I heard the rumble of Crain's Chevy pulling into the driveway.

  We took off through the woods, being as quiet as possible while making quick progress, but by the time we made it to the street at the edge of the woods, we were both breathing hard. I bent over to get my breath, heaving and taking in great gulps of air. Marty whined, then yipped.

  Jack

  "What size jumpsuit do you wear?"

  * * *

  If I admitted I was getting used to Tempe's shenanigans, I'd also have to admit to some sense of normalcy, to accepting the craziness around her as something I could deal with, some day.

  Earlier today I'd been ready to get the hell out of Destiny but my job had… no, that was bullshit. My job wouldn't have kept me here for longer than it took to grab Jordie and put my foot to the pedal. It was Tempe. Damn it. She'd gotten under my skin. I couldn't help it.

  I captured a mental video of the sight in front of me—Tempe, red hair flying, those long legs pumping, her tennis shoes slapping the street as she cast a furtive glance over her shoulder as she made the dash for her truck. A black Dachshund bounced along beside her, its tongue lolling out until he got a glimpse of me and his hind end hit the pavement. Tempe bent over, one hand on her stomach, the other palm on her knee. Her shoulders heaved as she gasped for breath and colorful strands of hair waved around her calves. "Whew, I'm out of shape, Marty."

  The dog looked at me and yipped again, his hassling tongue dripping saliva.

  Tempe looked up for a second, then slowly rose from her stoop.

  "Zeus' bumbling cousin!" Her eyes widened when she saw me, then narrowed. Looking off, she tried for nonchalance, as if hightailing it out of the woods like a wildfire was on her ass was something anyone would ignore.

  "What size jumpsuit do you wear?" I asked.

  Breathing hard, she frowned and gasped, "What are you talking about?"

  "I figure we might as well get your prison outfits ordered in your preferred size. If you keep this up, you're going to wind up there eventually and then they may only have XLs." She knew what I was referring to. I'd found her breaking into the clubhouse locker to get River's amphora the first day I'd met her. And after I ordered her to stay away from my crime scene, she'd snuck back in at four in the morning to search the grounds.

  "How do you do that?" She planted her fists on her hips and frowned. "Did you plant a tracking device on me or something?"

  "As if I needed one. You couldn't hide your feelings unless you wore a black sack over your head, and your intentions are as predictable as the full moon." I softened my voice, "Especially when it comes to your brother."

  Her eyes blinked suddenly and she turned away but I recognized the slump for what it was. Defeat. Whatever her plan had been, she'd failed.

  "What happened?"

  * * *

  Tempe

  8:57 pm One B&E away from a permanent vacation

  * * *

  He was always turning up when I was in, um, a predicament, mostly of my own making. Like my first Breaking and Entering…

  He said, "In this case, I happened to be driving by the Wasted Turtle when I saw you talking to Rafe and Montana. I was about to come over and ask what you were up to when Will Crain walked out of the bar, and you pulled out behind him. So I followed you."

  "You foll—" I was a friggin' terrible sleuth. Not only had I been made by the person I was tailing, but I'd also missed the sheriff's big SUV on my tail.

  "What are you doing here, Tempe?" He looked down at the weenie dog by my feet, whose head went back and forth following our conversation. Jack seemed impressed with my training skills. "I thought you had a Pomeranian. Who's this little fella?" He leaned over toward my "dog" and Marty darted away. Some protector he turned out to be.

  "He… belongs to a friend." Jack was right. I'm a terrible liar. "I thought it might be good to bring him along, in case…"

  "In case someone surprised you, like the home owner for instance? I can see how well that worked out for you. Look, you could have screwed up any chance we had of tying Crain to Paige or River, if he's involved."

  I looked down the street to where
my truck was parked. A streetlamp illuminated Marty as he wagged his tail and looked up at Jack, grinning. Changed his mind, huh. My hero, the look clearly said. Jack bent over and picked Marty up.

  "You're a cute little fella. It's a good thing you don't like to bark."

  "You should have been here thirty minutes ago—oh, you were." I stared at him. "If you were here, why did you allow me to walk up in there?"

  He grinned, his broad white smile gleaming in the glare of the streetlight. "Hell, I just wanted to see what you were going to do. I had a bet with Ryan that you had your burglar tools on you."

  "Funny, ha-ha. What am I, some kind of law enforcement science project?" Ryan is Jack's deputy and his wingman from the Navy. He followed Jack to Destiny after getting out of the service. He is not in-the-know about Destiny's other side.

  "I sent Ryan after Will when he left. I was beginning to think I was going to have to distract Crain if you didn't get out of there. I told Ryan you were hell with door locks. Is that how you got in?"

  "I just walked in the back door. It wasn't locked."

  He handed Marty to me. "Don't you have a leash for this mutt?" Marty growled. "Easy there, boy, no offense meant. As I was about to say before your 'guard-dog' chastised me, I'm going to go talk with Mr. Crain before we lose him again. It won't hurt if you want to come along. You weren't in there long enough to see anything were you? Or find anything?"

  "No. But you'd better have all your shots before searching that place."

  "I have to have reasonable cause to even request a warrant to search, but I'm working on it. Don't blow it. I'm going to pull around. Follow me. And leave your little buddy in the car."

  Chapter 4

  Tempe

  9:15pm Big fat juicy lies

  * * *

  Jack turned down Crain's street and drove up behind the pickup in the driveway, blocking it. He got out and told me to stay in my truck until he signaled that it was safe.

  Safe? I hadn't thought of that. The guy might have been waiting on me to come to the door. He could have been sitting there looking innocent, baiting me. I guess I needed more practice at this.

  Jack knocked on the door. I saw Will get up from the chair as Jack walked up the sidewalk to the porch. Be careful, Jack… The door opened and I could hear the conversation from my parking spot near the curb.

  "Sheriff, what can I do for you?"

  "Are you Will Crain?"

  "That's me," the guy said, a little too cheerfully, and loudly.

  "I'd like to ask you a few questions, Mr. Crain."

  "Why sure, Sheriff. Why don't you and the lady come in?"

  I saw Jack hesitate for a split second, as surprised as I had been. He assessed it for some kind of trap. Finally, he called out, "Tempe, why don't you join Mr. Crain and me?"

  I scrambled out of my truck, locking it—with my key, instead of my zapper— and walked toward the house. Jack's narrowed gaze told me he'd been watching.

  "Dispatch, I'm at 1022 Oak St. interviewing a subject." Jack spoke into the radio on his lapel. A safety measure, I presumed, as well as to make a point. We may be coming inside, but others know where we are so don't try anything.

  We stepped into Will's house and the smell of stale cigarettes and trash once again assaulted my nostrils. It was worse than the unventilated smokers lounge at the Crossroads Truck Stop. I wouldn't put menori's gag reflex to the test unless I got some signal from Jack.

  Will offered us seats on the couch and Jack accepted but sat on a chair, one leg propped on the other across from Will. I just couldn't do it. I stood leaning as casually as I could against the grimy couch. Misshapen with deep depressions in the cushions, and discolored, it was the ugliest piece of furniture I'd ever seen.

  "Mr. Crain, I've been trying to get in touch with you for a week. Mr. Rutledge had a different address on file for you."

  Will just shrugged. "Well, I've lived right here for the last three months. I don't know why he didn't have the right address."

  "Uh-huh. Any reason why you didn't return any of my phone calls?"

  "I've been busy working. Twelve to fourteen hour days don't leave much time for chatting."

  Jack's aura turned a few vibrant shades of red at Crain's words and his shoulders bunched.

  "Well, Will. Do you mind if I call you Will? I'm surprised you have such a blasé attitude about what we, that's the sheriff's department and Ms. Pomeroy's family, thought was important information."

  For the first time, Will looked a little nervous. I could imagine. I'd been the recipient of that hard silver stare. It was unnerving.

  "So, let's 'chat'." Jack laid one wrist over the other casually and leaned forward. I expected him to flip out his trusty notepad, but I'd suspected all along he didn't really need it to remember details. Crain stared back at him as if hypnotized.

  Jack said, "I understand you were at the Wasted Turtle last Sunday night. How often do you visit that particular establishment?"

  Will blinked. "Uh, every now and then. What difference does that make?"

  "Now don't get defensive, Will. I'm just trying to establish your veracity as a witness."

  "O…kay."

  "What time did you arrive?"

  Will pretended to think hard then looked directly at Jack. "I think it was about four."

  "And what time did you leave?" Jack asked.

  "Now that I don't know exactly, but I believe it was before midnight." Once again, he made an exaggerated face. Jack didn't seem bothered by the man's obvious stall tactics.

  "You told your boss you saw River at the bar that night. What time was that?"

  Crain scratched his cheek and searched his pockets for another cigarette. "I don't know. I'd had a few by then. But he left before I did."

  "Did you know the woman with River?"

  "Nope. Never seen her before but she was hot."

  Jack pulled out the notebook. "Can you give me a description besides hot?"

  Crain inhaled deeply then blew a long plume of smoke into the air. Pretending to bring the woman into focus, he closed his eyes, "Um, sorta tall, brunette, tight jeans, built like a…" he grabbed his chest with both hands, cigarette dangling until he caught Jack's look and dropped his hands to his lap, glancing over at me, "uh, big up top, 'ya know."

  "Eye color, distinguishing characteristics?"

  I rolled my eyes. This was absurd.

  "Hmm, it's just not coming to me right now."

  Jack put his pad back in the pocket of his coat and asked, "What did you mean when you told Max they looked 'chummy'?"

  "Well, River was about three sheets and leaning on her, feeling her up, 'ya know, and she was giggling and supporting him… they were kind of supporting each other."

  Thunder rolled through the room, rattling the dishes in the sink, shaking Will's ashtray.

  Will grabbed the arms of his chair, eyes wide.

  Jack gave me a sideways glance.

  "Sounds like more rain," I said and shrugged. Menori stirred again and the floor under our feet shook with another low rumble of thunder. I clamped my teeth together so I didn't interrupt to say that my brother was a gentleman. He wouldn't be "feeling a woman up" in a bar in full view of the other patrons.

  Jack swung his head back to Will concentrating on his next question, "Have you seen either Mr. Pomeroy or the woman he was with since that day?"

  "No." A quick, short answer and a head shake.

  "Do you have any idea where we might find River? Or what might have happened to him?"

  There was the slightest of hesitations and a twitch of one eyelid. I was sure Jack noticed. "Look, I'm trying to help. I told you he went home with that woman at the bar. Why don't you find her and ask her?"

  Jack smiled that reptilian smile of his. "Oh, I will. You can count on it. I need you to come down to the station tomorrow. I'll have a deputy pick you up in the morning at seven."

  "Why? Are you arresting me?"

  Jack gave a mock look of concern. "
Have you done something I should arrest you for, Will?"

  "Uh," he licked his lips, doing his best to look abashed. "No, of course not. But uh, why are you sending a deputy to pick me up? I could drive over and then I could leave from there for work."

  Sounded reasonable to me, but not to Jack.

  "Oh, no, Will. I can't have you using your gas when you'll be helping us out. What kind of mileage do you get in that junk heap outside anyway, eight MPGs? Nah, it would cost you a fortune to drive to New Orleans in that thing."

  "New Orleans!"

  "Sure, Will, and I'll even buy you lunch. You want to help Ms. Pomeroy find her brother don't you?"

  Will looked at me. I spread my lips into a phony smile.

  "Well… sure."

  "We'll clear it with your boss, Will. Would that be Max?"

  "Hmm, I… no, you don't need to do that. I'll just call in sick."

  Jack suddenly pulled a convenience store coffee cup from the inside of his jacket and extended it to Crain, clearing his throat. "Could I trouble you for a cup of water? I'm parched." He made an inane attempt at a cough.

  Will obliged him and we sat in silence until he returned, Jack's lips curving up in a crooked smile. What was he up to?

  Will handed the cup to Jack.

  "Thanks." Jack rose and I followed suit. "All right then. Dream up a nice clear image of the woman with River because you'll be meeting with a forensic artist tomorrow. We appreciate your cooperation. The deputy will be here at seven sharp. Have a good night."

  Crain nodded but his eyes narrowed.

  I couldn't help it; I called up a few negative ions and sent them in Will's direction. As we walked down the steps I heard him yelp.

  Outside, Jack said mildly, "Couldn't help yourself, could you?" He walked me to my car where the darkness hid us from Will's view. "Did that world-class sniffer of yours detect anything in there?"