Murder Under Cover (8 page)

“I’m Brooklyn Wainwright.” I shook her hand, then pointed toward my door. “These are my friends Derek Stone and Robin Tully.”

She bowed slightly in our direction. “How do you do?”

“Did you just arrive today?” I asked. “We saw movers over the weekend but didn’t see anyone actually moving in.”

“Yes, the movers came ahead of us. We came in with the children this morning.”

The Chungs had caused a stir a few months ago when they bought two loft units next door to each other, then tore down the shared walls to make one huge apartment to accommodate their family of five.

The boy gazed up at me. “Do you live here?”

“Yes, I’m Brooklyn. What’s your name?”

“Tyler Chung and I’m six,” he said. He was adorable, with straight black hair cut in a bowl shape around his face. All three kids wore jeans and T-shirts and looked red cheeked and out of breath from playing. “These are my cousins Jennifer and Jessica. They’re five years old and they are twins. Their parents are dead. They live with us now.”

“Tyler, that is more information than anyone needs to hear,” Lisa said, but she had to smile at his lack of guile.

We all traded hellos back and forth.

“You’re so pretty,” Tyler said, still watching me.

“Why, thank you,” I said, taken aback. It had been a long time since a six-year-old had flirted with me.

“He doesn’t get to meet a lot of blondes,” his mother said.

I laughed. “Well, it was nice meeting you all. And welcome to the building. I hope you’ll enjoy it here.”

“Thank you very much,” she said with another short bow. “The children will not bother you.”

“I’m not worried.”

“We plan to have an open house sometime in the next few weeks. Perhaps you will all stop by.”

“We would be honored,” I said. “Thanks.”

 

The following morning, I woke up alone and a bit disoriented. Derek’s side of the bed was still warm, and I ran my hand over his pillow. Then, feeling self-conscious, I pulled my hand back.

This whole new-relationship thing was crazy, I thought as I stared at the ceiling. I’d dated plenty of men. I’d even been engaged to a few of them. But I’d never before felt this baffling, thrilling, tingly craziness.

I liked it, but I didn’t trust it. How could anything this intense stand a chance of surviving more than a few months at the most? I was essentially a positive person. I saw the glass as half-full, and I believed in miracles. Still, it was madness to think this blissful feeling could last much longer. Certainly not a lifetime.

And if that was the way my thoughts were moving, it was time to wrangle them back to reality. I vowed right then and there to take things with Derek one day at a time. No way in hell would I start making plans for the future. Okay, maybe we could schedule a dinner two weeks from now, but that was the outside limit.

The scent of robust coffee wafted into the bedroom, and mercifully, all my errant thoughts dissolved into the ether. Except for one:
Feed me.

I stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. I fiddled with my hair, then threw on a robe and walked into the kitchen, where Robin and Derek were sitting at the bar drinking coffee and talking quietly.

When Derek saw me, he smiled, stood, and kissed me. And here came those emotions again. Talk about feeling disoriented. The man blew my socks off. I gave myself ten seconds to simply enjoy the feel of his hard, rugged body pressed against me. Then he drew back and smoothed my hair away from my face. “Sit here, darling. I’ll pour you some coffee.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“It’s so nice to see you two together,” Robin said, staring at Derek and me with a dreamy gaze.

I took a sip of coffee, then studied her with concern. But she seemed much better today. Her eyes were bright and she was already dressed and wearing makeup.

“You look great,” I said. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep.” She stretched her arms and yawned. “But the good thing is, I fell asleep right away last night, probably because of the wine.”

“Wine always helps,” I said. “Mm, coffee, too.”

Derek walked into the kitchen to retrieve the third stool I kept there. He pulled it close and sat facing us.

After a few more sips of coffee, I started to wake up. “So what have you two been talking about?”

Robin turned. “Derek’s agreed to talk to the police so I can get some things out of my apartment.”

“You have?” I said. “That’s nice.”

“He’s just a hero,” Robin said, shaking her head. “That’s all there is to it.”

“You really are,” I said, holding the warm mug with both hands. “Thank you.”

He shook his head. “That’s enough out of you two.”

“It’s cute the way he protests,” Robin said.

Scowling, he pushed himself up from the stool. “I was going to make French toast, but now I’m not sure you deserve it.”

“Oh, we do, we do,” I crooned.

“We’ll be good, I promise,” Robin said, then giggled. Again, giggles weren’t her style, but it was fun to see her able to tease and enjoy herself after her ordeal.

Over French toast, bacon, juice, and coffee at the dining room table, Robin compiled a list of items she wanted from her place. Most urgent, besides underwear and her favorite jeans, were her computer and the briefcase that held her calendar and tour and travel information.

As she spoke, I noticed that she really did seem better. Not so frightened of her own shadow, and not so muzzy as she’d been yesterday. Derek and I exchanged glances and I started to say something, then changed my mind. It was too soon.

Robin glanced from Derek to me and back to him. “Oh, go ahead and ask me the question. I know you’re dying to.”

“What question?” I asked.

“The one that’s been hovering over the room with all the subtlety of Rodan for the past ten minutes.”

“Hey, we were being sensitive to your needs,” I insisted.

She smiled in acquiescence. “Well, you can stop it. I assume you want to ask me about Alex.”

“Who’s Rodan?” Derek asked.

Robin sat back and stared at him. “You’ve never heard of Rodan?”

“The flying monster?” I added. “Godzilla’s buddy?”

“I know of Godzilla,” Derek said, as he finished off a piece of bacon.

“
Rodan
is another old monster movie,” I said. “My parents let us watch it when we were kids. It was very scary at the time. Prehistoric flying reptiles, killer bad breath.”

Robin nodded. “Rodan blew deadly gaseous fumes out of his beaked mouth.”

“Fascinating.” Derek shook his head. “Clearly I’ve lived a life of deprivation.”

“I’ll say,” Robin said, and turned to me. “Jeez, we can really go off on a tangent.”

“You think?” I said, then shifted in my chair. “Okay, since you’re feeling better, I’m hoping you’ll tell Derek about Alex.”

“Sure.” She settled back and seemed to gather her thoughts. Her features tightened and I could see the flash of guilt and pain in her eyes. “I told you he was wonderful, right? He was. Handsome, funny, charming. He obviously had money, not that it mattered. He liked to do interesting things, or at least that was the impression he gave me.”

“What kinds of things?” Derek asked.

“Oh, you know. He said he liked to go to art galleries, museums, the park, the beach. He talked about all kinds of music. Jazz and rock and bluegrass. He even mentioned the symphony. He loved food, all kinds. We first bonded over aloo jeera and kati rolls at Kasa. But he also raved about Giant dogs and garlic fries.” She sighed again and her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “I still can’t believe this.”

“So he liked baseball, too?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“A regular metrosexual,” I said, then added, “I’m not judging.”

“That’s okay. I don’t think they really exist.”

“An urban legend?”

She paused to contemplate that one, then shrugged. “Anyway, he was adorable. And he liked me, Brooklyn. He liked women. You could tell, you know?”

“I know.”

“Of course you do. He was a lot like Derek. Well, except he didn’t carry a gun, of course. And he wasn’t all . . . Well, I mean, he was normal.”

“Excuse me?” I said.

Derek laughed.

Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth. “I didn’t mean . . . sorry.”

Waving away her apology, I said, “It’s okay. He’s really not normal.”

“Yes, he is,” Robin insisted.

I shook my head. “No, he’s not.”

“I beg your pardon?” Derek said.

“You’re extraordinary.” I smiled at him.

“Darling, you’ll make me blush.”

I laughed at that. “You’ve never blushed in your life.”

“You could drive me to it.”

Robin cleared her throat. “The point is that—”

“The point is that Derek is dangerous and carries a gun,” I said. “He takes risks. He walks on the wild side.”

“You’re getting carried away again,” Derek murmured.

“No, no,” Robin said, leaning forward and planting one elbow on the table. “I get what she means. Okay, Alex wasn’t so much like Derek. He was more laidback. He reminded me of a . . . a fun-loving aristocrat. He wanted to show me a good time, take me places, spend money on me. That’s what he said, anyway. He wanted to make me laugh. God, he was sexy. He made me feel sexy. I haven’t felt that way in a while.”

Not since my brother, Austin, broke things off with you
, I thought, but didn’t say aloud. “You said he was born in Ukraine.”

“That’s what he told me.”

“Did he have an accent?” Derek asked.

“A very mild one. He said he came over here for college, and he was in his thirties, so he’d lost some of his accent.”

“Did he say where he went to school?”

“Berkeley.”

“Impressive.”

“He is pretty smart,” she said thoughtfully. “I mean, he
was
pretty smart. God.”

Derek asked a few more basic questions, then moved to the crux of the matter. “You know he drugged you, Robin. Did you realize what was happening at the time?”

The question caught her off guard. She reached for her coffee and took a few nervous sips. “No. I remember feeling really tired, and then I guess I just fell asleep. But why would he drug me? We’d already had sex. Great sex, by the way. Amazing. Inventive. I mean, really great.”

“Yeah,” I said intently. “We heard you the first time.”

“Sorry.” But her teasing smile faded as her eyes clouded over. “Why would he drug me
after
we had sex? What would that accomplish?”

Derek sat forward. “It would allow him to search your place without interference.”

“But why? I don’t have much money lying around. I have artwork.”

“Is it worth a lot of money?”

“Most of it’s my own, plus a number of local artists. We’re not talking Rembrandts. Who would want to steal anything from me?”

“He must’ve thought you had something worth stealing,” I said.

“Like what?”

I had no idea. “Maybe he was just a charming cat burglar who worked from the inside out.”

“So I was a crime of opportunity?”

I winced. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“So then who killed him?” she demanded. “A rival burglar? It doesn’t make sense.”

“No,” I agreed. “That’s definitely the sticking point. Why would anyone come into your place and kill this guy?”

“It wasn’t random,” she mused.

“No, of course not,” Derek said.

She frowned. “I mean, if it was random, they probably would’ve killed me, too. And they didn’t steal anything. Not that I know of, anyway. I have my purse, so they didn’t rob me. So who were they and what were they after?”

I pondered the question. “A jealous wife?”

“Oh, God, no,” Robin cried. “That’s just too awful to consider. Maybe it was a business rival?”

“Or an old boyfriend of yours?”

“No guy is that hung up on me,” she said drily.

“You never know,” I countered. “Maybe Alex had a partner he double-crossed.”

Derek finished off the last of his coffee. “Let’s run a few scenarios. Perhaps Alex knew the other person. He expected the guy to come by later and help him rob your place, so he drugged you to keep you out of their way. He probably didn’t expect his friend to kill him.”

“That’s quite a scenario,” I said.

Robin shook her head. “But it still doesn’t make sense.”

“I know.”

“I thought I’d met the man of my dreams,” she said quietly, then rolled her eyes in disgust. “Obviously, I watched too much Disney as a child.”

I squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“If it’s not too painful,” Derek said, “I’d like you to take us through the entire evening.”

“It might be a little painful,” she said after a moment’s consideration. “But if it can help clear up a few questions, let’s go for it.”

“Good. Let’s take a quick minute to clean things up.” Derek stood and cleared our plates, then filled our cups with more coffee. I got up and grabbed a notepad and pen from my utility drawer and we both sat down again.

Robin started at the beginning of her date with Alex, trying to remember the smallest details, such as what they both wore and what kind of car he drove.

Derek scowled at the mention of the car, and I knew he would’ve loved to comb through it. But it was probably in the police impound lot by now.

“Whose idea was it to wind up the evening at your place?” he asked.

“Mine.” Robin paused. “Well, wait. Let me think about that. We were talking about San Francisco neighborhoods. He lives in the Richmond District and I mentioned living in Noe Valley. He said he’d heard about this fabulous new restaurant in Noe Valley. I laughed and said, ‘That’s like two blocks from my place,’ and he was like, ‘You’re kidding. We have to go to this place.’ Then he sort of changed the subject, told me he was having the best time ever, or words to that effect. I thought the same thing. I was having a wonderful time.”