Couples
Chapter 90
With an ecstatic smile, Kate looks up from her chili-filled pumpkin. "I'm beginning to understand why you love the time around Halloween so much. And it's not just Chef Auchincloss's genius. This is when the optimism that goes with the holidays starts."
"We'd better be optimistic," Rick points out. "We're preparing for the ultimate trick or treat, election day."
Kate scoops up another forkful of chili. "That's right. Eli must be going crazy right now. It can't be easy on Lana, either. I know what it's like trying to do your job when the press keeps popping up with stupid questions."
Rick sticks out his lower lip. "Are you implying that questions regarding your musehood for Nikki Heat are stupid?"
"When they want to know if I slept with my sparring partner before getting involved with you, they are. It's none of the press' business who I slept with before we got together. I don't need the click-baiters asking me how the famous Richard Castle is in bed, either."
Rick's eyebrows wriggle. "I wouldn't mind hearing the answer to that – or wait! Would I?"
"You have nothing to worry about, or at least you didn't this morning."
Rick sinks into a chair opposite her, near the loft's kitchen. "That's comforting, I guess. How long before you have to get back to the precinct?"
"Long enough to finish my lunch and…" An alert emanates from Kate's pocket. Dropping her fork, she pulls out her cell phone and scans a text. "Scratch that. I have to go now. We have a body."
Perlmutter looks up from a taped-off area near a dumpster. "She drowned."
"In a dumpster?" Kate questions.
The M.E. shakes his head with an impatient sigh. "Your husband's fantasies are corroding your brain. No, Detective, she didn't drown in the dumpster. She drowned elsewhere and was, as the word implies, 'dumped' in the dumpster."
"What was the time of death?" Kate inquires.
According to the liver temperature, between 1 and 3 a.m. However, immersion in cold water could affect my numbers. After I get her back to the lab, I can get a better idea of how fast she cooled."
"Any evidence on the body?" Kate asks.
"You mean trace that wasn't washed away when she was drowned?" Perlmutter retorts. "I'll need the lab even more for that than for T.O.D. But she is wearing a medical alert bracelet for an allergy to shellfish. Ryan has the I.D. number on it."
The slender detective strolls up. "The victim's name is Callista Ford, but not the Calista married to Harrison Ford. That would break Jenny's heart. She loved watching Ally McBeal. Esposito's running the canvass, but so far no witnesses as to how the body got here."
"Did the medical alert company have an emergency contact for Ms. Ford?" Kate queries.
"They did. I'm sending it to your phone."
"Thanks, Ryan. That probably means I should make the notification."
Ryan nods sympathetically. "It never gets easier, does it?"
"I hope not," Kate responds. "If it did, it would mean I cared less."
Colleen Ford opens the door of the apartment she shared with Calista Ford. "What's this about, Detective?"
"Do you know a Calista Ford?" Kate asks.
"Of course I know her," Colleen responds, "she's my wife."
Kate takes a breath. "Then I'm afraid that I have to inform you that Calista's body was discovered two hours ago. I'm very sorry for your loss." Trembling, Colleen drops into a nearby chair. "Is there anyone I can call for you?" Kate queries.
Colleen's answer emerges as a sob. "No. No one. Calista and I both lost our families as children. We only had each other."
Kate pulls up another chair and leans toward Colleen. "I hate to ask you questions at a time like this, but in a homicide, the sooner we gather information, the better chance we have of catching a killer."
Colleen gazes at Kate's face. "Are you telling me that my wife was murdered? How?"
"She was drowned, and then her body was transported to where we found it in Soho."
"Calista would never have been near water except in a sink or a shower." Colleen swipes the sleeve of her cotton shirt across her damp eyes. "She was so allergic to shellfish that she had a reaction the first time her parents took her to the ocean. It almost killed her. After that, she wouldn't even swim in a pool. How could someone drown her?"
"I don't know," Kate admits. "Are you aware of anyone who would want to hurt Calista?"
"Not for personal reasons, but because of her work, people got angry with her, sometimes furious. She also got threats."
"What did she do?"
"She was a hazmat inspector. She studied with the fire department, but she worked for insurance companies. If she decided that chemicals were stored or used in a dangerous way, she could deny coverage. For some businesses, that would mean shutting down until they fixed whatever was wrong."
Kate nods. "Which would cost them."
"Sometimes a lot," Colleen agrees.
"Do you know if Calista kept a list of those firms?"
Colleen points toward a heavy wooden desk. "Calista kept lists of everything. I teased her sometimes that her name fit. Everything she did was documented on her laptop. She had a backup drive that she kept in a fire safe, too."
"I'll have to get our tech people to go over the computer and the drive and anything else that might contain evidence."
"Whatever you need, Detective," Colleen agrees. "Just catch the bastard who killed my wife."
From the doorway of Eli's campaign headquarters, Lana regards the activity inside. "To fit any more volunteers in there, you'd have to hang them from the ceiling."
"With Flatt's trial coming up, the local talking heads are doing a lot of speculating. Of course, we can't comment on an active case, but the press is doing its best to dig up whatever it can, mostly on his history," Eli explains. "It attracts attention to the campaign."
"I've seen some of that," Lana acknowledges. "That man spent years systematically excluding people of color from renting his properties. The Ledger also found some of his old tax records. He applied for credits only small business owners were supposed to get. He was living in luxury and asking for money that others needed to survive. It's no wonder that people want to support you in putting assholes like him away."
"I just wish I had more time to help them do it, or at least cheerlead," Eli confesses. "But it's a miracle that I have a couple of hours now. Flatt's lawyer, Morton Andrews, has been deluging us with discovery requests. Even with hiring some temp staff to produce the documents, we're barely keeping our heads above water. And the office doesn't have a big enough budget to hire as much temp staff as we need."
"So what are you going to do?" Lana asks.
"I made a deal with the professor in charge of administrating Hudson University's paralegal program. I can add extra hands in the office, and the students will get experience and credit. We started today. It's already making a dent."
"Sounds like a win-win."
"I hope so. You know, we should do something for the troops here, too. I'll get pizza for everyone, and we can all drip oil together. Can you take orders?"
"I'm a cop, Eli. Taking orders is police academy 101."