Couples
Chapter 125
"Beckett," Ryan calls as soon as Kate steps off the elevator, "we found the car. It's in a garage in the financial district."
"How about the driver?" Kate asks.
"Never got a good enough view for an I.D. But you need an access card to get into that garage. That puts a limit on the number of people who can park there. Unfortunately, there's no video inside except at the elevator. So Javi and I are going to head down and canvass to see if anyone saw who left the caddy. You coming?"
"Yes, but I might want to do a canvass with a different question. What do you think is the ratio of male to female in that part of town?"
"Wow! Jenny was just reading an article about that. It really pissed her off. She told me that almost all investment managers are men, even though women hold the majority of assets."
"Then where assets are concerned, the workers in that area might be likely to notice a woman with large breasts?" Kate queries.
Esposito joins his partner. "How large?" he asks, regretfully considering his criteria for dating a woman, B.B., before Bambi. Immediately, he wonders if he's feeling guilty or just stupid. Bambi's body would never end up on the pages of a gentlemen's magazine, but it's perfect to him.
"According to my witness, the woman who pushed Wilfred Morrison's body out of the car was at least a double D.," Kate replies.
"That would get attention," Ryan figures. "But it would sound more professional if you're the one who asks about it."
Kate turns back toward the elevator. "All right, then. Let's go."
Britni usually has the ladies' room pretty much to herself unless the wife or girlfriend of a coworker is visiting. With no one waiting for a stall, she takes her time, reading a report on her iPad, until she's distracted by muffled conversation coming in from the hall. She hears another woman's voice and a man saying what sounds like Britni's name. If she hadn't picked out the word "detective," she might think he was just directing a customer. But as she realizes that's not what's happening, her skin turns the color and temperature of the nearby porcelain. The cops are looking for her.
Tapping her fingers nervously against her iPad, she tries to figure out what to do. As footsteps approach her refuge, she climbs on the seat so her legs won't be seen from underneath. Damn! She hadn't done this since second grade when she was hiding out during a spelling test. It was a lot easier then. She holds her breath as the door to the room opens. A face briefly appears below the door of her stall, then disappears.
Watching the time slowly change on her iPad, Britni allows a half hour to pass before leaving her improvised hideout. As she does, a woman holding up her badge and with two men behind her emerges from across the hall. "I'm Detective Kate Beckett, Ms. Maynard. You're under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Wilfred Morrison. I was wondering how long it would take you to come out of there," Kate explains as she snaps cuffs on Britni's wrists. "I've used that trick myself. It's hard in heels, isn't it? You don't have to answer. You have the right to remain silent."
"What magnificent triumph produced the look of smug self-satisfaction on your face?" Rick inquires when Kate returns to the loft.
"We arrested Britni Maynard, the person who dumped Wilfred Morrison's body."
"And did you skillfully extract a confession of heinous murder?"
"Not yet. She's smart, an investment advisor, and apparently a good one. She asked for a lawyer and clammed up. But the boys tracked down the car. That's how we found her – that and her bra size. Anyway, C.S.U. got two sets of prints off the steering wheel in the vehicle. One was hers. But the other belongs to a guy named Barry Loomis. He was in the system because of a fight at a car auction. Apparently, he's a serious fan of heavy metal. According to her coworkers, he's also one of Britni's clients, and possibly something more."
"If he was driving the murder-mobile, definitely something more. Did you pick him up?"
"We didn't find him at the address on his sheet. But according to the super, Loomis lives there. I have a unit staking the place out. I also have one at Britni's place and her office. He'll turn up. The press doesn't have anything, and the only call Britni could make was to an attorney. So he won't know we're looking for him. With luck, we might have him by morning."
Rick grins, wiggling his eyebrows. "And then the fun begins."
"Well, the case-closing kind of fun anyway," Kate agrees. "What's been going on here since Lily's breakthrough?"
"She's had a few stumbles, but we also shared some great hugs. I ordered a case of pull-ups. I showed her the pictures on my phone, so she could pick the ones she liked."
"Let me guess," Kate ventures, "we'll need sunglasses to dress her in them."
"Pretty close. She liked the trolls with hot pink hair. I'm afraid that soon she and Mother will be shopping together. The glitz gene traveled down the line. But I suspect that her choice of color palette may not be all she inherited. Lily already loves to put on a performance. Perhaps she picked up the whole descended from carnies thing. I hope she doesn't try to run away and join the circus. Although sadly, there aren't too many circuses left to join. At least it's hard for the ones still around to get away with abusing their animals. But the way Lily loves her furry and feathered friends, I can't see her putting up with anyone trying to hurt them. Ooh! Maybe she'll travel the world as a circus veterinarian."
Kate wraps her arms around Rick's waist. "Babe, I think we'll have to finish with potty training before we worry about veterinary school."
"Never too soon to think ahead!" Rick declares. "But I see your point."
Propped up by throw pillows in the shapes of fruits and vegetables, Christine stretches out on the twin bed in her small apartment. Her grandmother made the pillows for her when she was growing up and already spending as much time as she could in the kitchen. They're beginning to show signs of wear, but when Grammy passed on, the pillows became one of Christine's most prized possessions. So she's not about to replace them.
However, she is wondering if she should replace her choice for the third dish in Kitchen Klash. Ben, Chef Auchincloss, checked with the Food Channel. Allergies won't be a problem. The judges certify they can eat anything that isn't contaminated or known to be toxic. But even if the stir fry is the favorite of the patrons of Imagination Patch, she's not sure that it sings. Maybe the spices could use adjusting. She'll have to think about it, perhaps even dream about it. Sometimes ideas for recipes come to her in her sleep, and she struggles to write them down before the dream images fade away.
It's one of the rare occasions when she will have time for a decent night's sleep. After the unaccustomedly full Sunday that she had the day before, Ben asked Madison to finish up this evening. So Christine got the rare opportunity to leave early. She's finding the new, nice Ben hard to figure out. Auchincloss is still the gruff general barking orders in the kitchen, but Ben isn't. For Christine, the two sides of the man are hard to reconcile. But she can sleep on that too.