On our way across the hall to my place, I asked the inspectors if they’d made any headway on Joe’s murder.
They exchanged glances; then Jaglom said, “Our lead suspect just showed up in a box.”
I winced at that, then opened my front door in time to see the medical examiner leave. He and his assistant were steering a gurney that held the body of Angelica wrapped in a thick black plastic bag.
Another assistant followed, wheeling a dolly that supported the crate that had contained her body. I couldn’t suppress a shudder as it passed by me.
Back in the kitchen, Lee looked around. “Have we talked to everyone now?”
I thought for a moment. “Everyone but Minka.”
Lee gasped and her face turned into a mask of terror. “LaBoeuf? She was here?”
I bit back a laugh. “It’s a long story, but yes. You might say she crashed the party.”
Jaglom saw Lee’s expression and laughed. “I’ve interviewed her twice before during our last two investigations. It’s your turn, Janice.”
“No freaking way,” Lee muttered darkly as they both packed up their notepads. I walked them out of my place and down to the freight elevator.
Jaglom was still laughing. “She’s a nice girl once you get to know her.”
Lee snorted. “She’s a rabid dog.”
Jaglom laughed and turned to me. “We’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks,” I said. I thought I heard Inspector Lee growling as I walked back to my place.
Minutes after I got inside and locked the door, my telephone rang with two quick rings, then nothing. It was the doorbell. Again.
“I’m afraid to answer it,” I said, flashing Derek an apprehensive look. But I picked up the phone anyway and said hello.
“Hey, babe.”
Gabriel. My stomach relaxed and I buzzed him in. He bypassed the slow freight elevator and took the stairs and arrived at my door in a minute flat.
I couldn’t bear to sit in the living room where Angelica’s body had lain for the past three hours (memo to self: grab some of Mom’s cleansing white sage to purify and chase away the dead-body vibes in my living room), so we moved into my workroom and sat at the high table. I’d taught private classes in my home, so there were four comfortable high chairs. If someone else showed up, they would have to stand. I doubted that would be a problem.
I served hors d’oeuvres: more cookies, plus the last of some Brie I had in the fridge and half a bag of potato chips. Wine for me, beer for the guys. Nobody complained.
We amused Gabriel with the horrific story of the body in the box, plus the murdered delivery guy.
“Sorry I missed the fun,” Gabriel said with black humor.
I gave him a dark look, but conceded, “This means that Solomon is a sure bet for Joe Taylor’s murderer.”
“Not necessarily,” Derek said.
Max leaned his elbows on the table, looking puzzled. “Who else could’ve done it?”
“Angelica,” Derek said cryptically as he swirled his wine.
“Meow.” I glanced down and saw Clyde staring up at me. He’d spent the day hiding in Max’s room and I couldn’t blame him.
“Do you want to come up?” I asked.
“Meow.”
I figured that meant yes, so I pushed my chair back from the table a few inches. He crouched, then jumped up onto my lap in one amazingly smooth move. He took his time getting comfy, staring up at me, rubbing his face against my chest. Then he circled around and wiggled a little until he found just the right spot, and plopped himself down.
“I love this cat.”
“And he loves you,” Max said easily.
I gazed down at my fuzzy friend and stroked his pretty orange fur. “You don’t understand. Cats don’t like me.”
“Where’d you get that idea?” he said, and leaned over to scratch Clyde’s neck.
From every other cat I’ve ever known, I thought grimly, but didn’t say. Instead, I glanced across at Derek. “You still think Angelica could’ve killed Joe?”
“Yes.”
“But why? And what do you think happened afterward? Did she and Solomon have a falling-out and he killed her?”
“Yes,” Max said.
Derek nodded. “It’s the most likely scenario.”
“A lover’s spat,” Gabriel mused.
Max’s face soured in disgust. “Those two would stop at nothing to destroy everyone else. Why not destroy each other?”
“Poetic justice?” I said.
“Works for me,” Gabriel said, grabbing a handful of chips.
“But it could just as likely be Solomon who killed Joe,” Derek conceded.
“We need to talk to him,” I said.
“There’s no we here,” Derek said testily. “You’re going to stay as far away from him as possible.”
I rolled my eyes, looked around the table, and palmed another cookie. “So what do we do right now?”
“I’m going to get another beer,” Max answered. “Anyone else?” There were no takers, so Max strolled out to the kitchen.
Someone knocked on my front door and I flinched, disturbing the cat enough that he turned and grunted at me and his claws came out. If I nudged him off, would he ever speak to me again? Could I live with that?
“I’ll get the door, darling,” Derek said, already halfway there. “Don’t disturb your new friend.”
“Clyde thanks you,” I said, smiling gratefully. “It’s probably one of the neighbors wanting to commiserate.”
Derek glanced through the peephole and gave me a look. “It’s a woman I don’t recognize.”
“As long as it’s not Minka, go ahead and open it.”
“I hate to disrupt the cat,” he said, “but I’d rather you confirm that you know her first.”
“Okay.” I gently nudged Clyde off my lap and walked over to the door, where I squinted through the peephole at the woman waiting in the hall.
My jaw dropped to the ground and my heart stuttered in my chest. But I managed to recover enough to whisper, “Emily?”
Chapter 21
“One of your neighbors let me into the building,” Emily explained, clutching her hands together nervously. “I hope that’s okay.”
“That’s…wonderful.” Taking Emily’s arm, I led her into the apartment. “Come in, please. Wow. How are you? It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said, hesitating just inside the doorway. “Sorry to just drop in.”
“It’s no problem.”
She took a moment to gaze around my workroom, and I could see her eyes focusing on the many shelves and rows and rows of threads and tools and papers and map drawers. “Nice space.”
“Thanks. Oh, Emily.” I grabbed her in a hug. “I’m so glad to see you.”
Glad she was alive. Glad she hadn’t been hurt, and just glad in general. Of course, this opened a whole new world of uh-ohs, too. Max was here. In the house. Emily thought he was dead. And I wouldn’t have the chance to warn either one of them before they saw each other, so…uh-oh.
“Yeah, me, too,” she said, hugging me tightly. “It’s been too long.” After a moment, she stepped back and ran a nervous hand through her long brown hair. She hadn’t changed much, except that she’d grown her hair longer and had gotten even prettier than she’d been three years ago. More elegant somehow, and calmer.
“Look,” she said, folding her hands as she spoke, “I’m sorry I didn’t return your phone calls. I wanted to, but I was visiting my parents, who are staying in Cleveland for a few months. My dad’s sick. He’s at the Cleveland Clinic and…well, you don’t need to know the details. Anyway, I just flew into SFO and didn’t feel like driving straight home. So I thought that as long as I was in town, I’d take a chance and stop by. I hope you don’t mind, but I Googled you and got your business address. Anyway, here I am-and, God, I’m talking too much.”
“No, you’re not,” I said, laughing. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad. But I’m so happy to see you. I’m blown away that you came by.”