Private

“You’ve got news for me,” he said.

Colleen brought in my Red Bull and Andy’s espresso. We both thanked her.

“Andy, I have something to tell you. You’re not going to like it.”

“Don’t worry, Jack. Whatever it is, I can take it. That’s why I’m here.”

I nodded as if I agreed. Then I told my old friend that we had found out where Shelby had been working before she was killed: the Benedict Spa.

Andy jumped up, shouting as he stabbed the air with a forefinger. “What the fuck are you telling me? She worked there? That’s a hundred percent horseshit. It’s a lie! Somebody’s jerking your chain, Jack!”

I waited for Andy to finish his rant and sit back down. I understood why he was upset. “I wouldn’t tell you if we hadn’t checked it out, Andy. I’m sorry. But it’s true.”

Andy’s face was nearly purple with rage. His breathing was fast and shallow. I worried that he might have a heart attack in my office, maybe a fatal one.

“Then tell me why, Jack. Tell me why. She had everything she wanted. Jesus, we had a very active sex life.” He pushed away from the desk. “I want proof; I need it. That’s your business, isn’t it? Proving things? Proof, Jack, proof.”

“ Del Rio and I went to Las Vegas last night and met with Carmine Noccia.”

Andy did a double take. “What’s he got to do with it? This doesn’t make any sense, Jack. None at all.”

“He owns the Benedict Spa. He knew Shelby, and doesn’t dispute that she worked for him. But he has no information on who killed her. So he says.”

“You’re telling me that my wife was a whore and a liar, and on top of that, she was working for the Mob? Why, Jack? She didn’t need money.”

I said again, “I’m very sorry, Andy.”

“So any crummy dick with a gun could’ve killed her? Is that what you’ve found out?”

“We’re working on it right now. We’re all working on it. We’re going to find the guy who did this.”

Andy slammed his fist down on my desk. “Guess what? I no longer care who killed her,” he said. “I don’t want to spend another nickel on her. Fuck it, Jack. Fuck it.”

I shook my head. “Please think this through. If we don’t find Shelby ’s killer, the police will continue to focus on you.”

“Let them. They have nothing on me and they’ll get nothing. You just put yourself out of a job, Jack. You’re fired.”

Andy knocked his chair over as he got to his feet, then he steamed out of my office. He almost ran Colleen down as she came through the door.

“Did I hear right?” Colleen asked, putting a hand on her hip. I saw that she was wearing her new watch. “He fired us?”

“No. Well, yeah. He’s upset, but he’s my friend. I’m moving the Cushman case to the pro bono list,” I said. “We’re still working it. Only now we’re doing it for free.”

“I’ll take care of it, Jack,” Colleen said. Then she shut the door to my office. “Am I still your friend, Jack?”

Chapter 54

CRUZ PARKED HIS car outside the Benedict Spa and watched as an absolutely stunning young blond woman came out the front gates and strolled down the hill toward where he sat watching her promenade.

She was about five-foot-one, small boned, with a short boyish haircut, wearing black bicycle pants, a green spandex top, and flat shoes. She disarmed her Lexus convertible alarm as Cruz approached.

“Hi, could you wait up a second?” he said, walking toward her. She got into her car and locked the door.

Cruz took his badge out of his back pocket. He flashed it and made the universal motion to ask her to roll down her window.

“What are you?” she asked. “FBI?”

“Private investigator,” he said, smiling at her. “I just need a moment. You work at the spa, right? This won’t be hard, I promise.”

“I can’t talk to you. Please step back so I don’t run over your toes.”

“My name is Emilio Cruz. What’s yours?”

“I’m Carla. Make an appointment, okay? I can talk to you at the spa all you want. For hours, if you like.”

“Carla, stay right there in your car. Keep the door locked. I have two or three questions, that’s it.”

Carla, last name unknown, put her key into the ignition and started the car. Cruz crossed in front of the hood around to the passenger side. Carla reached across the seat and pushed the lock button down, but the window was half open.

Cruz reached in, pulled up the door handle, and got into the car.

“Get out or I’ll scream. I’ll call the house and someone will come out here and beat the hell out of you, buddy. They can get real ugly in a hurry.”

“I come in peace. I’m not trying to upset you,” Cruz said. “I just want to ask you about Shelby Cushman.”

“Let me see that badge again.”

Cruz held it up. “I’m licensed,” he said. “But I’m not a cop. I’m here for Shelby.”

Tears suddenly formed in the woman’s eyes. That surprised the hell out of Cruz.

“I loved her,” she said.

“I’ve heard terrific things about her.”

“She would cry for you when you were upset. She’d give you the shirt off her back-even if you didn’t want it. And she was so funny.”

“So what happened to her?”

“What I heard? I don’t know if this is the truth or not. She was in her bedroom, and someone shot her. Shot her twice.”