“You weren’t likely to come back.”
“That’s for sure.”
Temple gave her take on the situation. “Elmore wanted Oleta, but not her greedy claws in him. She was entitled to nothing if it came out the marriage was bogus, and it would if he wanted it to. If something happened to him, when the courts asked for documentation, his worldly goods would have still gone to you and Curtiss.”
Elmore had stopped his irritating whistling and hat-tapping. He looked sheepish.
Electra looked like a little purple teapot with a red cover who was about to blow its top.
“Elmore Lark! Why? Do you realize that I’d remarried since then?”
“Several times,” Temple put in with a “so there” emphasis. Electra didn’t even hear that. “Is she right? We’re still … married?”
“That little filly Oleta. She wanted the whole deal. I don’t trust women like that. I trust women like you.”
“Stupid?”
“Trustin’, Puddin’ Puss. That little girl sorta ran me over. I wasn’t thinking, but I knew enough to make it so she couldn’t get ahold of my horse ranch.” He turned the hat in his bony hands. “Curtiss is my only son.”
“For all you’ve ever seen of him.”
“I’m not the raisin’ father type, but I am the leavin’ father type.”
“That’s for sure,” Electra said, standing up. “I could kill you for what you’ve done to me, and especially to Curtiss.”
Some people found women in purple outfits with red hats amusing and a little silly. Electra’s fervent tone would have convinced them otherwise.
Certainly it convinced the people just entering the conference room.
Temple cringed inside as she noticed and identified them: Detectives Su and Alch.
Chapter 20
Truth Has Consequences
Detective Su’s first name was “Merry,” which Temple had always found incongruous: Merry Su, a homophone for Mary Sue.
She understood that second-and third-generation Asian Americans often bore delightfully trendy American first names nowadays. It was a mark of assimilation, while maintaining pride in the family name of origin.
And Detective Su was another petite woman in a man’s world, even more petite than Temple’s five-foot-zero, size three and five in clothing and footwear. Su probably wore 0 and size four shoes.
So Temple totally sympathized with such a small woman making it in such a man’s world as law enforcement.
But .
Sometimes . .
Sometimes Temple thought Su was a mini-Molina, a female bully who liked to throw her badge and her figurative weight around. In C. R. Molina’s case, Temple was talking about an almost-six-foot-tall woman homicide lieutenant with the cojones of a pit bull and the open mind of a shut-tight miniblind.
This was one of those Su-Molina times.
“We don’t often walk in on a confession of murder,” Su said, folding her arms. She wore a black pantsuit over a white shirt. Her expression and mind seemed to be in an equally black and white mode.
Detective Morrie Alch loomed behind her, a symphony in gray, especially his hair and mustache. From him came a vibe of mature sympathy for all involved.
Not from Detective Su.
“What’s this?” she demanded. “An alternative on-site interrogation room? The hotel has asked us to be discreet. It didn’t require that we be co-opted by an amateur detective with two alley cats for backup.”
“Backup” was the word. Louie and acquaintance obliged by humping their spines like Halloween cats at Su’s approach.
Never duel a cat for attitude, Temple thought, watching Detective Su observe the animals’ fierce united feline front and wisely swagger around them to confront Temple.
“You are not Las Vegas’s answer to Veronica Mars,” she told Temple. “You had no business diverting this man, whom I take to be Elmore Lark, from the long arm of the law.”
“Oh, ma’am,” the man in question couldn’t keep from intervening. “She hasn’t been diverting at all. In fact, I am delighted to be released from the presence of my, er, ex-wife and associates, into the custody of such a fine member of the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department.”
“Shut up,” Su said. “And sit down, hands on the table. Away from the hat.”
Elmore shrugged at Temple and Electra, and the cats, and did as ordered.
Alch came up behind Su on little cat feet. “Let’s take him upstairs for questioning,” he suggested.“I suppose you think this is funny,” Su said, her dark eyes fixed on Temple.
“No,” Alch said, intervening. “I think you’re right. This is po-lice business. We’re the police and we’ve got the right to question Mt Lark. Let’s do it someplace private, is all I’m saying.”
“Yeah.” Su turned away from the table. “Do you want to tell the old broad not to leave town, or should I?”
Alch’s eyes shut for an instant. They opened to regard Electra. “Miss Lark, we’d advise you to stay in town, in case we want to talk to you again. It would be even better if you didn’t abuse your permission to be at the convention by getting into arguments with the victim’s ex-husband. It could look suspicious.”
Electra had really appreciated that “Miss.” Especially now.
She began beaming at the start of Alch’s speech but gradually lost her glow and was fervently glum by the ending word “suspicious.”
“Thank you, Detective. You can count on me concentrating on Red Hat Sisterhood activities that are completely amusing and innocent.”
Su snorted like a horse. Or a Shetland pony, in her instance.
Luckily, she didn’t stamp a petulant hoof.
From the rubber-soled clunky Mary Janes she wore, Templethought the petite thump she could produce would lack a certain heavy-metal pizzazz that horseshoes and tap shoes share.
“Lightweight:’ Temple muttered under her breath as Elmore Lark left the room under the oddball escort of Alch and Su.
Beside her, Electra let out a deep breath and let her head droop to the tabletop. “Holy hypocrite! That bastard lied. About everything. I’m amazed he isn’t the dead body in the morgue.”
“You better hope he’s not, because you have police witnesses to wishing him dead.”
“Not seriously—”
“Everything here is serious now, Electra. Don’t let the happy high of the Red Hat Sisterhood lead you astray. We are hip-deep in trouble.”
It was only then Temple noticed that the black cats had slipped out of the conference room on the heels of Elmore and Merry and Morrie.
Oh, shoot. She and Electra weren’t even serious enough players to keep the attention of a couple of cats!
Louie and Louise, how could you?
Chapter 21
The Third Degree
“That was not very nice,” Louise observed as we shimmied through the air-conditioning vents.
The Las Vegas summer was firing up for the main event, and I have to admit that my seasoned joints were not doing the horizontal crawl with youthful enthusiasm.
Miss Midnight Louise, of course, was going for a world record in on-land airshaft-swimming.
“What was not nice?”
“Leaving the ladies behind so we could tail the cops. That Detective Su is as mean as a Persian queen in heat”
“She is just annoyed with our MissTemple for beating her out on the undercover job at the Teen Idol competition. They are like feuding sisters and Miss Lieutenant Molina is their mama.”
“Do not let MissTemple hear that idea. She would take you off at the tail.”
“Tut. I know how to handle these human females, unlike most human males. A little purr and rub here, a little manly huff and puff there, and they are all eating out of the palm of my paw.”
“Especially Miss Detective Su.” She is being sarcastic, and I forbear to reply to that comment.
“That is why we are going over ground. Once we reach the vent into the Lalique Suite, we will hear and see all while remaining not seen and not heard.”