The brunette moved close to him. “So her husband’s dead?” she murmured.
“It looks like it,” he whispered back. “Earlier she told me they found his car with blood in it, and I guess they’ve identified the blood as his.”
The pair of them started away. The brunette stopped whispering. “Well…if they’re looking for who someone with a motive to kill him, they ought to see if that blonde hanging on him in Bon Vivre Monday night has a jealous husband or boyfriend.”
Cole winced. Just his luck that someone who knew him was there, though her face rang no bells for him. Sara had not been “hanging” on him, though!
Arriving half an hour late and breathless, Sara had tucked an arm through his, yes, and leaned her forehead against his shoulder as she heaved a huge sigh. “Here I am, finally…no thanks to Tyrannosaurus Regina. God what a day!” But he peeled her off even before asking what she wanted to drink.
The male nurse halted. “Are you sure it was her husband?”
The brunette cocked an eyebrow at him. “Tall guy…lanky…looks a little like Jimmy Stewart, right?” When the other nurse nodded, she went on, “So anyway, this blonde was all over him when she came in. Then they snuggled up together in a back booth, making out over a cozy dinner.”
What! Cole glared at her. How the hell did she see make snuggling out of sitting on opposites of the booth? And no one could have seen Sara’s foot crawling up his leg later. He peered at her name badge. Debra Brewer. That rang no bell, either. Why was she-
In the orthopedic room, breath caught sharply. Horror shot through Cole. Oh no. No! Running back inside, he found Sherrie standing with her arms full of sheets and her face bloodless. She had heard. And in her stricken face he saw the demons from her childhood sinking claws and fangs into her.
“Sherrie, no! What she said isn’t true! It didn’t happen like that!” Damn! If only she would hear him. “Babe, listen to me. Brewer doesn’t remember how it really was, or else she’s trying to make it a juicy story!”
Sherrie turned away and stumbled to the laundry hamper. Cole followed her for a step, then halted, staring after her in despair. How much deeper and darker could this hole he dug for himself go?
12
He had to find Sara! Once she was safe, her name cleared, and Gao dealt with for assaulting her…then Sara could set the record straight with Sherrie, give her the true story. But first, he had to find her.
Cole shut out the anguish from Sherrie’s pain and his anger at Brewer to try returning straight to Homicide. Concentrating, he visualized the room from the perspective of Hamada’s desk, feeling himself standing there. Nothing happened.
Cole ground his teeth in frustration. Why could he go to Burglary with no trouble, but not Homicide, just down the hall? It made no sense. But, fine…he would ziptrip to Burglary and walk on down to…
…Homicide, the thought finished lamely as he found himself standing at its inner door. Cole fought an urge to bang his head against the door jam. Son of a bitch. This had no rhyme or reason. It was going to drive him bonkers.
“Someone’s playing games with me, aren’t they?” he said to the ceiling. “Well screw you.”
He stalked across the room to Hamada’s desk…straight through other desks, a typewriter, and the legs of the detective at the typewriter. Sending the typewriter ball into a brief spinning frenzy and Darrell Wineright starting in consternation.
Hamada and Razor glanced curiously toward Wineright. Willner and Galentree looked around from muttering together over Galentree’s laptop.
Dennis seemed oblivious. “…no trouble finding the guy,” he said. “He claims he doesn’t have any idea where Benay could be. He’s a flake, though. When I asked him about her I got this long silence at first, and then he said I wouldn’t believe it but he woke up this morning thinking about where she might go to get away from everything…because — get this — last night he dreamed Jimmy Stewart asked him about her.” Dennis rolled his eyes.
Hamada’s brows rose. “Interesting coincidence.”
Cole frowned. Lockhart never mentioned that “Stewart” — did he look more like the actor in the dark? — gave him Razor’s name to call in case he remembered anything? That would have given them, and especially Razor, real “coincidence” to chew on.
Maybe Razor was already struck by Lockhart’s dream. He had straightened in the chair, eyes narrowing. A moment later, though, he shook his head.
Cole elbowed him. “No, don’t you write it off as coincidence! I visited him. And Kenisha Hayes. Remember her name coming up last night?”
Razor’s only response was a flinch.
“Lockhart did have one suggestion.” Dennis handed Hamada a sheet of the memo pad. “Talk to a girlfriend named Kenisha Hayes.”
Razor started.
Hamada looked over at him. “You know the woman?”
Cole heard mental wheels race. Razor shrugged. “I remember Cole mentioning the name one time when he was talking about Flaxx Enterprises.”
Dennis nodded. “Lockhart said Hayes works with Benay.”
“Well, then…” Hamada straightened his tie. “I think a personal visit to the folks at Flaxx Enterprises is in order.”
Cole hoped Hayes could give them more information than she had given him. Even if not, the visit should still be good for seeing Gao’s reaction to Hamada’s questions.
Dennis sighed and started to heave out of his chair.
Hamada flicked him a glance. “I think I can handle it alone.”
Dennis relaxed, clearly relieved.
Cole grimaced. Before I get that burned out, please someone shoot me.
Oh yeah, somebody already had.
“Why don’t you run Benay through the computer.” Hamada pulled his gun out of a desk drawer and shoved it in the holster on his belt. “See if she owns a handgun. Then since the car ended up in San Jose, contact the airline desks there to see if she bought a ticket. And let’s get Dunavan’s case file on the Flaxx burglaries so we can go through it.” He headed over to the radio rack, then out the door.
As soon as Hamada disappeared, Razor casually stood up. “I think I need a cigarette.” He strolled for the door, too.
Cigarette? Following him, Cole hoped not. He intended to be there at Flaxx Enterprises with Hamada, but if Razor were, too, the better the two of them could discuss things…once Razor started seeing him.
Sure enough, in the hallway, Razor’s stroll abruptly became a running walk. He caught up with Hamada at the elevator. Cole halted behind them.
Hamada glanced sideways at Razor. “If you’re wanting what I think…it’s a bad idea.”
“I just want to ride along.”
Hamada shook his head. “You have too big an emotional stake.”
Razor’s jaw squared. “When a fellow officer’s been killed, are any of us objective? Look, I can’t sit and do nothing.”
“There’s a phone on my desk and a whole lot of airlines to check in San Jose.”
The elevator opened. Razor followed Hamada in.
The car already held some uniformed officers, a trio Cole recognized as Public Defenders, and a suit who looked like a private attorney. Cole walked up the side of the car and stood horizontal to the ceiling with his head above Razor’s.
Hamada lowered his voice. “You wouldn’t be thinking this Hayes woman can point you to Benay ahead of everyone else.”
Razor shook his head emphatically. “If she’s guilty, she’s all yours.”
He put some emphasis on if, Cole noted with satisfaction. So Razor was reserving judgement on her guilt. Maybe he had not dismissed the night’s conversation as just a dream. That was progress.
The uniformed officers and lawyers left at the ground floor. Razor stayed on for the ride to the basement. “Cole and I discussed Flaxx Enterprises extensively. Wouldn’t you like information on the local fauna before you walk into their jungle?”