Leanne Banks - Hot Stuff

“Seventeen is a lot of coincidence. Two weeks ago Marty performed at a charity function in my client’s home, and the next day my client discovered an heirloom necklace had been removed from his safe. I’ve been hired to find the necklace. I was hoping I’d find it in Marty’s condo.”

“So you got friendly with me, so you could search the condo.”

“That was my original plan. It was a lot more palatable than romancing Marty, but after watching you tend bar for an hour I wanted to be friendly just to be friendly.”

“Sounds like a lot of Irish blarney,” Cate said.

“Actually, I’m not Irish. My real name is Kellen Koster.”

“Kellen Koster?”

Kellen had been slowly cruising Cate’s street, looking for a parking space. He found one half a block from the condo, angled the Mustang into it, and turned the engine off. “It was supposed to be Kevin Koster, but it got screwed up at the hospital and never got changed. Most people call me Koz.”

“I’m not most people.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Now what?” Cate asked.

“Now we get Beast out of the Mustang. He’s panting hot dog breath on me. Then we mosey up to the condo and see where we go from here.”

Cate took Beast’s leash and coaxed him out of the car and onto the sidewalk. It was a little after nine and the city hadn’t yet cooled down. It was cold beer and iced Frappuccino weather in Boston. Red Sox hats and funky T-shirts and sandals weather. And air so thick with hydrocarbons you felt a rasp in the back of your throat and felt the city grit against your eyeballs. All part of summer in Boston, and people were sucking it up at outdoor cafés and cheering at Fenway.

Beast plodded after Cate and patiently waited while she keyed herself into the condo building.

“Well, good night,” Cate said to Kellen when the door clicked unlocked. “It’s been… interesting.”

“You’re not getting rid of me yet,” Kellen said. “I’m coming upstairs.”

“No way.”

Kellen pushed the door open and stepped inside. “I want to search the condo again. And I wouldn’t mind a good night kiss.”

“Not going to happen.”

“The kiss or the search?”

“Either.”

Kellen got into the elevator with Cate and Beast and hit the button for the fourth floor. “Usually there’s word on the street when an unusual piece is floating around. And there’s no word on my item. I think Marty still has it. Somewhere.”

“Why would he keep it? Doesn’t that increase his risk of getting caught?”

“Only if he shows it. Most high-level thieves keep an item now and then for their personal collection. If they’re smart they keep that personal collection hidden. And sometimes a piece is taken that’s too hot to handle and has to be set aside for a year or two… or ten.”

“Marty’s condo has already been searched.”

“I want to search it again.” But mostly, Kellen thought, he just wanted a kiss.

Cate plugged her key into the lock on her front door and the door swung open.

“Oh crap,” Cate said. “Déjà vu.”

Kellen stepped inside and looked around. “This isn’t good.”

Cate and Beast followed him into the foyer and gaped at the mess. Tables were overturned, furniture was askew, and couch cushions were on the floor.

“This wasn’t a normal search,” Kellen said, walking through the condo. “It looks to me like there was a fight here. There’s a spray of blood droplets on the kitchen floor, like someone was punched in the nose.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Maybe Marty returned and someone followed him.”

“I can’t see Marty leaving the front door open or walking away from blood on the floor. Marty is fastidious.”

“Maybe Marty didn’t walk away.”

A half hour later Cate and Kellen were in Marty’s small office, and Kellen was in Marty’s desk chair, rifling through Marty’s drawers.

“Nothing of any value in his file cabinet,” Kellen said. “His computer is traveling with him. I can’t find any memory sticks or disks or safety deposit box keys. No James Bond fake drawers or revolving bookcases. This office is clean. In fact, so far as I can see the whole condo is clean. And I don’t believe it. I know I’m missing something.”

“You’re nothing if not tenacious,” Cate said.

Kellen smiled slyly. “Something to remember. I could make Pugg look like an amateur.”

“Should we call the police?”

“Yeah. This is the second break-in and someone bled all over your floor. It wouldn’t hurt to have a report on record.”

“Will the police test the blood?”

“Not unless they find a body in the stairwell.”

Cate and Kellen locked eyes.

“Maybe I should check the stairwell,” Kellen said.

Cate pocketed the key to the condo front door and followed Kellen into the stairwell. It was well lit, and it was easy to see that the stairs were speckled with tiny dark dots.

“Blood?” Cate asked.

Kellen was stopped at the third-floor landing. “Lots of it. And a dead guy.”

Cate caught up to him and clapped a hand over her mouth. There was a large man lying in an awkward position on the landing floor. He was Caucasian, with brown hair and a severely receding hairline. Late forties. Dressed in a short-sleeved white dress shirt and brown slacks. He was on his stomach with his legs twisted at odd angles. His head was turned to the ceiling. He looked surprised. Blood had pooled under him.

“You aren’t going to scream or faint or throw up, are you?” Kellen asked.

“I’m not going to scream, but I might throw up.”

“Sit down and take some deep breaths.”

“Are you sure he’s dead?” Cate asked.

“His head is on backward. That usually indicates death.”

Cate crept closer. “Looks like he’s the one who got punched in the nose. Guess that’s the least of his problems now.”

“I don’t see any bullet holes or knife wounds. It almost looks like he fell down the stairs and broke his neck. Do you know him?”

“I think he might be Marty’s agent. I don’t remember his name. I’ve only seen him a couple times, when he came to the bar to hear Marty sing.”

“Go back upstairs,” Kellen said. “We definitely need to call the police.”

Cate looked past the young detective talking to Kellen and spotted Julie and Sharon standing in the hall with a cluster of curious condo residents. Sharon was wearing her robe and jammies, and three-inch stiletto-heeled slippers. Julie was in her party trolley attire of white Party Trolley T-shirt and black jeans.

Cate waved to Julie and Sharon, and they broke from the group and joined Cate in the condo.

“We came as soon as we figured it out,” Sharon said. “Julie saw the police when she came home from work.”

“At first I thought it was a domestic disturbance,” Julie said. “You know how the Millers are always yellin’ at each other and threatenin’ to call the police. But then I saw them cart someone out in a body bag, and I called Sharon.”

“This is horrible,” Sharon said. “Do you have any idea what something like this can do to property values?” She paused for a moment. “On the other hand, if the person in the body bag lived here, there could be a unit going up for sale. I might be able to get the listing if I move fast.”

“I don’t think he lived here,” Cate said.

“Did you see him?” Julie asked. “I bet you know all the details about the deceased.”

“Not a lot of details to know,” Cate said. “Kellen and I discovered him in the stairwell. It looked like he’d fallen down the stairs.”

“That’s tragic,” Julie said. “Bodies are so fragile. One minute they’re walking around and then bang, they’re all broken. And fate is capricious. I just learned that word today and I’m not sure I used it right.”

Sharon leaned toward Julie. “Have you been drinking?”

“They were serving margaritas on the trolley, and they mixed up too many, so when everyone left I had to drink some.”

“You had to?”

“It was the polite thing to do.”

Sharon turned to Cate. “If you found the body in the stairwell, why are the police swarming all over your condo?”

“It’s possible that the dead man was in here first. My door was unlocked and things were disrupted.”

“That’s sooo creepy,” Julie said. “I’d totally freak if I thought a dead man had been walking around in my apartment. My Aunt Margery kept my Uncle Lester in the living room for two months after he died. She said it kept her from gettin’ lonely. Of course he didn’t walk around, but he was there all the same, laid out on the living room couch. Truth is, every time I saw my Uncle Lester alive he was on the couch, and he didn’t look so different when he was dead. And then one day my Uncle Lester wasn’t in the living room no more, and everyone said Aunt Margery buried him in the backyard. We didn’t know for sure since no one was present at the burial, but there was a big patch of garden dug up. Aunt Margery always planted late-season cabbages there and they grew like the dickens.”

Sharon and Cate didn’t know what to say. They stared at Julie and their mouths dropped open slightly.

“I always felt a little funny eatin’ them cabbages,” Julie said as an afterthought.

Kellen moved behind Cate and put his hand on the small of her back. “Ladies,” he said to Julie and Sharon.

“Howdy,” Julie said.

Sharon nodded.

“The police are getting ready to clear out,” Kellen said to Cate. “Is there anything you need to add to your statement?”

“No,” Cate said. “I can’t think of anything else.”

“Would you like some company tonight?” Sharon asked Cate. “Julie and I could sleep over, so you wouldn’t be alone up here. Or you could come down to my apartment.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be okay,” Cate said. “I have Beast.”

“Call if you change your mind,” Sharon said.