“ I’ll get back to you when I have her.” She clicked her phone closed and sighed, because it wasn’t exactly true what she’d told him about keeping her word. She’d given it to Isadora Eisenhower, promised her she’d leave her be and now she’d just broken that promise. She’d just sold the one bit of integrity she’d allowed herself, but she’d done it for a whole lot of money.
“ Sorry, Dr. Eisenhower.” She had to go home now and get her laptop, because the GPS tracker she’d put on Amy Eisenhower’s car wasn’t the only one she had. She kept one on both her cars, in case they got stolen. And that was unfortunate for Isadora Eisenhower.
Although the dead in the house, who had been identified as Eric Ackerman and Niles Lundgren, security guards at St. Catherine’s, had been shot to death, Dr. Shaffer didn’t have a mark on him. The whack job neighbor said a dog had attacked him and Shaffer’s coat had been ripped, but the dog hadn’t broken skin. Heart attack was what first came to mind.
Mouledoux had no doubt about who’d killed these men. Dr. Isadora Eisenhower, but how could he go to the chief with that? He’d need a copy of that DVD and he’d need Doctors Romero and Jordan to back him up. That sleazeball Drake, too. The chief was a lawyer himself, he’d believe Drake. Hell, maybe he wouldn’t. Mouledoux was having a hard time believing it himself.
Back at the station, he logged onto his desktop, found Simon Drake listed in the white pages; convenient. Romero and Jordan were as well; very convenient. He didn’t want to wake the doctors before the sun came up, but he might enjoy getting that Drake character out of bed.
He looked around for Peeps. But the man had gone home. Couldn’t blame him, they’d been on the job for seventeen straight. Peeps had a wife and kids who needed to see him at the breakfast table on occasion. Mouledoux didn’t need his partner for this. Besides, Peeps was a go by the book, don’t rock the boat kind of cop. He wouldn’t enjoy rousting Drake like Mississippi Bob Mouledoux would. Truth be told, Peeps would argue against it.
Mouledoux grabbed his coat and ten minutes later he was ringing the lawyer’s bell, but the man didn’t answer. Either he wasn’t home or he was deaf. He was about to leave when his spine felt like an icicle was sliding up it.
Shaffer was dead.
The icicle got colder.
Mouledoux went to the front window, peeked in, saw nothing untoward. He went around to the side of the house, busted a pane in one of the dining room windows, unlocked it and climbed through. If he was wrong about this, they’d have his badge, but the coppery smell of blood coming from the kitchen told him he wasn’t wrong.
Chapter Ten
Lila knew she’d have to dump the car, but dammit, it was growing on her. She’d sort of thought of it as a symbol of her new life, one where she wouldn’t have to remain in the shadows. But she was going to have to keep on being low key, at least until she delivered Dr. Eisenhower to Mansfield Wayne.
Five million dollars! Manny must really believe there could be a death glitch, like the grim reaper could fuck up. Okay, he did screw up with Dr. Eisenhower, because she was alive and very young. That was a fact. She’d seen her with her own eyes, talked to her. Now where was she?
She pulled into her driveway, instinctively reached for the glove box and the garage door opener, which wasn’t there. Dammit, she’d left it in the Crown Vic. She hadn’t been thinking, but in her defense the situation had been a bit stressful; a bit unusual too.
She got out of the car, was at her door when the idiot Harvey Weinstein from next door called out from his front porch. He was approaching Alzheimer’s, but until he got there, he was and would remain the unofficial neighborhood watch.
“ Hey, you got a new car.”
“ Yeah.” She hated neighbors, especially Harvey, couldn’t understand why they couldn’t mind their own business.
“ Nice.”
“ Thanks.”
“ You gonna come over Friday for the potluck?”
“ No, Harvey, I’m going to be out of town.” She gave him a glare. He invited her to some neighborhood function at least once month. She always declined, but he never stopped inviting.
“ Maybe next time,” he said as she keyed the door.
“ Maybe.” She went in, closed the door after herself, but dammit she wasn’t closing Harvey out, because she was going to have to face him when she opened the garage to move the car in. In the garage, she hit the button for the garage door, went out to the car and there he was, standing next to it, leaning on his cane as he ran run a hand over the hood.
“ Harvey!” This was a violation of her space and she didn’t like it. He belonged over on his porch, not in her driveway.
“ There was a time I’d’ve loved a car like this. One like your Jag, too. That’s quite a car.”
“ Yeah, it is.” She looked into his eyes, tried to intimidate him with a stare, but instead she was the one who was being affected. She’d never really looked at him before. He was just that old annoyance from next door. But now, for the first time, she was seeing old Harvey Weinstein and he was a man covered in sad.
“ I suppose you think I’m a bother, that maybe I need a dog or something, because I’m always minding everybody else’s business, like I got no real friends.”
“ A dog might be good,” Lila said.
“ I been thinking about one. Not a girlie dog, something big, like a German Shepherd or maybe a Rottweiler. A dog would be a good companion and if I had one maybe I could keep to myself a little more, not bother everybody so much.”
“ Tell you what, Harvey, I’ve gotta be on the road in an hour, I’ve been up all night and all I have time for is a quick shower and a fast breakfast. If you could fix something up and have it ready in twenty minutes or so, you’d be doing me a big favor.” Whoa, stop, what was happening here? Had she just invited herself over to Harvey’s?
“ Bacon, eggs, sourdough toast, fried tomatoes and potatoes, that okay for you?” His smile was a block wide. “You’re not a vegetarian are you?”
“ No, Harvey, I’m not a vegetarian.”
“ Okay, you take that shower and leave breakfast to me.” He hustled back to his house, was inside in a flash. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad old guy, after all, she thought as she pulled the car into the garage, where it was going to have to stay, because when she left, she’d be taking her Jag. It was like an old friend, one she could count on.
Showered, Lila knocked on Harvey’s door with a little trepidation. Why? She was a stone cold killer. She wasn’t afraid of anybody or anything. Maybe she’d been a little afraid of Izzy Eisenhower, kind of hard not to fear a woman who couldn’t die. But Harvey Weinstein was an old man. Maybe it was because she lacked certain social graces.
“ Hey, come in.” He was still wearing that smile as he answered the door.
“ I will.” She followed him into the house and into a neat kitchen with a small table and chairs straight out of Leave it to Beaver. “Kind of retro,” she sat at the table.
“ I’ve had the set a long time.” He went to the stove, heaped bacon and fried potatoes onto a plate. “I’m doing the eggs over easy, just take a minute. And that’s all it took. Lila couldn’t remember how long it had been since someone had cooked for her and she found she enjoyed the experience.
“ So, Harvey, exactly how long have you lived here?” The neighborhood was a good one. Lila had only been in it a year, preferring to rent and move on after a couple years. She didn’t like roots.
“ Twenty-five years.”
“ That’s a long time to be in one place.”
“ Yes it is.”
And during the course of the next thirty minutes she managed to get his life story. It wasn’t long and it was sad. He’d been a major in the Marine Corps in Vietnam. While there he met and married a local woman, who’d been killed by a landmine a week later. And a mere week after that he’d been shot through the right femur, turning him into a permanent cripple.