“Let’s hear the synopsis,” blue suit says.
“Eva and I were lovers. Lucky Peters hired Eva for three-way sex on Tuesdays. Sometimes Gwen participated, sometimes she didn’t. Gwen and Eva were friends, which is how Gwen and I met and became lovers. On the Tuesday night they were murdered, Gwen and I were here in my apartment. You’ve spoken to the neighbors. They told you we were here all evening.”
“They told us you were here all evening.”
“That’s because Gwen was already in the house when they saw me come home that afternoon.”
“Can you prove it?”
“My proof is she’s alive.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. She could’ve killed them.”
“Right,” Gwen says. “That’s exactly what happened. I killed the two bodyguards, killed Eva and Lucky, drove to Callie’s condo-wait-I must’ve flown here, because my car was and still is at my house. Anyway, I killed everyone with a gun I don’t possess, flew here on my broomstick and entered Callie’s condo in such a way that none of the neighbors heard or saw me.”
“There’s the confession I promised!” I say. “Now if you boys will go ahead and arrest Mrs. Peters, we can take it straight to the courtroom. And don’t worry about a search warrant. We’ll provide the broomstick now, so you can enter it into evidence.”
Without batting an eye, blue suit says, “Mrs. Peters, do you know Carmine Porrello?”
Gwen looks me dead in the eyes, but I can’t make anything out of her expression.
“Answer truthfully,” I say.
“I know him,” she says. “I used to dance in his clubs. So what?”
“The four victims were executed.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I was at the crime scene,” brown suit says.
“So?”
“In the twenty-three years I’ve been on the force, this was the most professional hit I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh. Oh my!” Gwen says. Her face starts to flush. She actually looks at Callie and smiles. She’s proud of her girlfriend’s work.
“Did you just smile?” blue suit says.
“I sure did!”
He looks at me.
“She’s got a beautiful smile,” I say. “Don’t you agree?”
“Thanks, Mr. Cohen,” Gwen says, brightly.
Blue suit looks at Gwen. “Why would that comment make you smile?”
“Because it sounds like you might have a suspect. Carmine Porrello.”
“When’s the last time you saw Mr. Porrello?” blue suit says.
Gwen looks at me. For the first time, she appears nervous. We both know if they’re asking they already know the answer. I wonder if they’ve had a tail on Gwen and Callie. Then realize they’ve probably got surveillance on Carmine’s club.
“Answer truthfully,” I say. “If you saw him this afternoon, tell them.”
Both suits look at me, incredulously. But neither speaks.
Gwen says, “I saw Carmine this afternoon.”
“Where?” blue suit says.
“His place. The Top Six.”
“Why?”
Gwen locks eyes with me. “I wanted to ask him something.”
“What?”
“I asked if he knew who killed my husband.”
“And he said?”
“He said he didn’t know.”
Brown suit says, “What’d you expect him to say?”
Gwen looks at Brown suit with the most beguiling expression I’ve ever seen on a recently widowed woman and says, “Should I not have asked him?”
Both suits frown.
“Anything else boys?” I say.
After they leave, Callie says to Gwen, “Why did you meet Carmine Porrello today?”
26.
“Can we discuss this later?” Gwen says. She pauses a moment, then adds, “In private?”
Callie and I exchange a look.
I say, “Callie and I are a team, Gwen. Whatever happens, you’re not going to come between us.”
“Is that true, Callie?” Gwen says.
Callie says nothing.
To me, Gwen says, “She doesn’t need you, and I don’t need you. You know what you are?”
“Tell me.”
“A candy ass!”
I frown.
“Maybe you should put some oil around your ankles,” she says.
“Why’s that?”
“To keep the ants from getting to your candy ass!”
Gwen looks at Callie for approval.
Callie says, “Why did you meet Carmine Porrello today?”
“I wanted to ask him something.”
“Go on.”
Gwen looks at me again. “I wanted him to kill someone.”
“Who?” Callie says.
Gwen nods at me and says, “Donovan.”
Callie studies my face.
“You knew,” she says.
“I did. What I don’t know is why.”
We look at Gwen. Callie says, “Why?”
Gwen sighs. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Try,” I say.
She frowns at me. Then says, “I couldn’t choose between you.”
“What do you mean?” Callie says.
“I like you both. I mean, I like you better, Callie. You’re beautiful, you’re stable, you treat me great…”
“But?” Callie says.
“But today when I fucked Donovan, I felt terrible. Not at the time, of course, but…”
“Back up.” Callie says. “You fucked Creed today?”
She looks at me.
“It’s partly my fault,” I say.
“Partly?”
“Mostly.”
“So anyway,” Gwen says, “afterward, I felt terrible. I really like Donovan, but I decided today I love you.”
“Before or after you fucked him?”
“After.”
Callie looks at me. “I would’ve expected better from you.”
I shrug. “You had to be there.”
To Gwen, Callie says, “You love me?”
“I do.”
“How could I ever expect to trust you?”
“If Donovan dies, the problem goes away.”
Callie looks at me and says, “Why is it all your girlfriends want to kill you?”
I shrug. “Some don’t.”
“So far as you know.” She looks at Gwen. “We’re not killing Creed. Pack your things.”
I say, “Callie? She knows everything.”
Gwen says, “Wait. I would never tell!”
“The detectives aren’t done with this,” I say. “They might try to work on her.”
“What about my t-shirt business?” Gwen says.
“It might raise some eyebrows at the next board meeting if she turns up dead,” I say.
“They haven’t approved the reorganization yet though, right?” Callie says.
“True.”
Gwen starts backing up. “Can’t we just forget what happened today?”
“Which part?” Callie says.
“All of it. I want a do-over. No more Donovan. Just you, Callie. For ever and always.”
Callie says, “You sound sincere. But can I trust you?”
“Yes. I swear.”
“If you ever cheat on me again, I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Callie says. “Come.” She holds her arms out. Gwen’s face breaks into a broad grin as she moves across the room toward Callie. I see what’s about to happen, and jump between them.
Callie arches an eyebrow, which is never a good sign. Word of advice: you ever see Callie Carpenter arch an eyebrow at you, run!
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Gwen says.
“Sorry, I slipped.”
“Bullshit!”
Gwen tries to get around me to hug Callie. I mirror her movements, keeping my body between them.
“Do you mind?” she says.
“Sorry. I seem to be all tangled up.”
I catch Callie’s eye. She says, “Creed. Relax.”
I move away, and Gwen embraces her. Callie watches me over Gwen’s shoulder, completely oblivious to Gwen’s affection. I’d come between them just now for a reason. Callie was about to give Gwen a “loving sister,” a move I created years ago to be used on my ex-wife, Janet. It works like this: if Janet shoots me and claims self-defense, Callie will meet her a few days after the funeral, and put her arms out as if to give Janet a sisterly hug. Janet will move toward Callie to return the hug, but at the last second, Callie will sidestep her, spin around, come up behind her, and break her neck.