CHAPTER-04.
I had, of course, no real reason to suspect that a break-in at my house had anything to do with the murder at the Antique Alley, but I also had no reason to suspect that it did not. We had found my front door wide open and even in the dark I could see the dusty outline of a boot print on the door right near the door knob. The entire house was dark and we didn’t really know if the perpetrator was even gone now or still inside. We had not entered the house yet so Jill and I retreated to the relative safety of my Taurus. We turned the engine on and I pulled my 38 out of the glove box. I checked to make sure it was locked and loaded and then dialed Eric Samuels on my cell phone.
Two squad cars full of Irving’s finest showed up sirens and lights in just a couple of minutes. They had instructions from Dallas PD to secure the area but told me Samuels was going to get a nights sleep before he came by. He also let us know we could not go inside which I had expected. Jill and I were not really in a hurry to get inside until after the cops had swept the place for intruders anyway.
One young uniformed officer stayed with Jill and I while the other three drew their weapons and searched my abode for bad guys which were no longer still there.
They would not let us in the house, but one of them was kind enough to fetch our toothbrushes from the bathroom. He had me lock the door even though the damage suggested that it might not stay locked. They draped a lot of that yellow crime scene tape across my porch, and shooed us away.
Fortunately there are a lot of motels in the area and I had my platinum card with me.
I woke up at five AM which was about an hour ahead of sunrise. I went potty, brushed my teeth, wiggled into the same clothes I had worn yesterday, and scribbled out a note instructing Jill to call my cell when she woke up. I pointed the Taurus at the nearest drive thru and ordered a bag of McBreakfast and the largest McCoffee they served laced with three packets of powdered cream.
I knew Samuels was an early bird so, since I was up anyway, my plan was to get to my place where I was sure he would arrive just after sunrise. He surprised me by not arriving until well after seven and by then the coffee had run through me and I was seriously considering driving to the nearest service station for a quick bathroom break.
When he did arrive though he let me into my own house and I slipped away to the upstairs bathroom desperately trying not to touch anything.
Downstairs, Samuels had two techs with him that were photographing everything. They systematically marched through every room on the first floor taking many mapping photos of each and then they climbed the stairs and repeated the process there. Fortunately I keep the house pretty neat.
You can not necessarily tell what someone is searching for, but you often can tell the size of their quarry. For instance, if someone were searching your home for something the size of a business card they would have to not only open every single drawer and cabinet, but they likely would go through every single book on your book shelf leafing through it for the card and tossing the books on the floor one at a time as they searched through them. On the other hand; if what they sought was the size of a basketball, they would open the cabinets and closets, but there would be no need to waste their time looking through your paperback collection. Finally; if they were looking for something the size of a roll top desk they would search each room quickly and maybe open the closet doors, but they would not even bother opening your kitchen cabinets.
It was obvious from the lack of mess that they had been searching for something large. They had not found it because nothing was missing. Apparently they had gotten a little pissed off when they couldn’t find what they were looking for because my television had been tossed into my hot tub, but we could not find anything else that seemed to be damaged or missing. Samuels made sure the television was unplugged and had two of the techs lift it out of the tub for me. I would have to buy a new television but that didn’t bother me much because I rarely get the time to sit and enjoy a good T.V. show.
The techs spent a lot of time outside my house while Eric and I sat at my kitchen table drinking coffee and talking. They spotted and photographed the boot print on the front door and claimed they could get a really good impression from it. One of them also spotted a single tire track in my driveway that did not match my car or Jill’s car, but that might not be much of a lead because they could not tell how long the tire track had been there and my house was used as a business so I had traffic in and out often. Never the less they took out the paste and made a cast of the tire mark.
As I said earlier there was no reason to suppose that the break in at my house was tied in any way to the murder of Lola Martin, but Samuels and I both jumped to the same conclusion that the person who had broken in had been searching for the desk I had purchased from her. I told Samuels where the desk currently was and he warned me that it was now potential evidence so I was not to touch it and also not to tell anyone else where it was. He was just about to leave with his techs when my cell phone chirped to life. It was Jill whom I had stranded at the motel. I promised to pick her up shortly.
The techs were just about to take down the crime scene tape but I asked them to leave it where it was because I was not convinced that my door was secure and would have to leave, so they left the tape there and told me I could tear it down later.
It was only nine AM on a Monday and it already seemed like a really long week. I nudged the Taurus west on highway 183 to the motel we had stayed at where I checked out and collected my partner Jill. I had already done breakfast but she was starving so our first stop was a Denny’s where I sipped another coffee as Jill wolfed down pancakes and sausage links.
By ten o’clock Jill and I were at the hardware store where we picked out a whole new door. Believe it or not it was going to be cheaper to replace my entire front door than it would have been to buy the replacement hardware for the broken door and then paid someone to do the repairs. The young female clerk at the hardware store made it sound so simple for a couple of intelligent women like Jill and I to replace a door, so we confidently tied the new door to the top of my Taurus and headed back to my home/office.
We wrestled the door down off my car and onto my front porch. Jill scampered up the stairs to what I use to refer to as the “guest” bedroom but now must truthfully admit was Jill’s bedroom. Before I had located and gathered up all my carpentry tools Jill had returned wearing the cutest little carpenter’s outfit I had ever seen. The outfit was cut the same as bib overalls, but the legs were trimmed as shorts and it was the white canvass a painter would wear. Under the bib a red tube top peeked out. I would have to venture up into her bedroom some day soon to see just how many clothes she had moved in.
I won’t bore you with all the details but let’s just say that the simple little task of swapping out the doors took Jill and I several hours and pretty much chewed up the daylight hours of this fine Monday.
I knew that Jill was going to have to call Jana Little, the owner of Uptown Treasures, at about six because we had arranged to meet with her for dinner. Keep in mind that Detective Samuels had twice warned me not to get involved with this case, and also keep in mind that it had been Jana who had suggested that we get together, so I was considering this a social gathering rather than a business meeting. I was, therefore, actually quite thrilled when Jill got off the phone and told me that we were having a quiet dinner here at the house with Jana.
Jill sent me on an errand. She told me to go by a grocery store and pick up some dessert as well as a handful of limes and some fresh strawberries, and also commanded that I stop by a liquor store to get a big bottle of rum. It was already 6:15 and she warned me that I better hurry because our guest would be arriving at seven. I tried to remember what all I had in the refrigerator that could possibly be whipped together and called dinner, but Jill told me she would take care of the meal. I had my doubts.
It is not that I am unsocial or anything, but too many times in the past I have found myself as a fifth wheel. I had gotten the impression from the friendly and comfortable way Jill had talked with Jana at her store, and the easy friendly phone conversation they had just shared, that Jana and Jill might grow to be really good friends and I sort of got the impression that I would be in the way. At six feet and three inches tall, and lesbian, I have grown accustomed to being an outsider, a misfit. I don’t at all mind, it just sort of paralyzes me in social settings. So I fully expected the fleeting feelings of annoyance I got while on my errand, but this time it was just a little less than familiar. It was more like I felt I was being set up to take some sort of fall. You know like being asked at the last minute by your boss to attend some sort of meeting and then at the meeting being asked some questions about some project that you are not prepared to answer. I do not know where the feeling came from but I just couldn’t shake it.
I arrived back home bearing cake, and fruit, and liquor several minutes before seven. Jill had transformed the dining area of my kitchen into something oriental by simply placing a dragon-laced red and gold scarf on the table as a runner and placing several small candles in black bowls on the table. Lined up on the counter she had magically created an Asian feast and I was really wondering how she had produced such a spread in such a short time and from such limited ingredients when I saw the large paper sack advertising the “Dragon Wagon” which is a really good Asian restaurant with quick deliveries.
Jill quickly assigned me the duty of quartering the limes while she attacked the strawberries. Within minutes she transformed the fruit and some ice, as well as way too much rum, into a large pitcher of frozen daiquiris. I was still dressed in my jeans and pull over. Jill had swapped her carpenter outfit for red and black silk pajamas.
Jana arrived just seven or eight minutes late. She had obviously spent part of the day at the salon because her hair was now a good deal shorter than it had been yesterday when we had met her. It was short, straight, black, almost boy-like but in a cute pixie sort of way. She was sporting silver framed glasses and draped in a short but shapeless army green dress. Had it been tan it would have looked a lot like a girl scout’s uniform. She held in her hand a rhinestone covered purse larger than my briefcase. Her bare toes stuck through the open-ended sandals she was wearing which did nothing to help her short five foot frame.
Jill greeted Jana with the familiarity of a dear long-time friend and shepherded her into the kitchen area. I trailed behind and soon found myself seated at the dining table next to Jana with a cold daiquiri in my hand. Jana and I chatted really briefly for a few minutes while Jill pretended to be busy finishing up the meal she had obviously worked so hard to prepare.
We quickly got a little business out of the way. Jana reported that the cops had showed up at her store and gone over the remaining pieces of furniture from the break-in two weeks earlier searching for prints. They had lifted dozens but who knew what clues the various prints might yield. They also had found a business card tucked in one of the desk drawers that advertised a local Salvation Army furniture store so they told Jana they would check to see if the furniture had been purchased at that store.
By the time we had gone through just that much conversation Jill had loaded mounds of good smelling food on the table. She insisted that we attack the meal using chop sticks. Bother!
Since Jana and I were the same age and both a half-dozen years senior to Jill, we had my favorite radio station dialed in but playing softly in the background. The food was delicious and somewhere near the second round of daiquiris I started feeling more like one of the girls and less like a target. Because of the chop sticks we did more laughing at each other than conversation.
After dinner Jill suggested we leave the mess where it was and settle on the back porch. Jana carried both her own glass as well as mine, and I refilled the pitcher for us. Jill was first to arrive on the porch so she snagged for herself the single comfortable chair which left the wicker love-seat for Jana and I. We talked a long, long time about movies and television shows and favorite musical acts. We could not hear the radio any longer but a good steady rain filled in background noise with a steady pitter pat, pitter pat.
It was dark on the back porch by now except that the hot tub had lights inside lighting up the water and bleeding the softest of blue hues into the surrounding air. It felt quite warm for such a lovely evening.
Jill stood up to pour Jana and I more slush and rather than sitting down she stood in front of us and politely asked our guest if she (Jana) would be offended if she (Jill) got into the hot tub.
Jana assured Jill that it would not bother her in the least so we both watched silently as little Jill shed her silk pajamas and dipped herself into the Jacuzzi.
Jana lifted her drink to her lips. It took only one single more sip and she begged my permission to join Jill.
After a nod of my head, Jana stood and kicked off her sandals. She took off her eye glasses and carefully folded them leaving them on the small table next to the chair Jill had been sitting in. She stood facing me just a foot or so away and slowly pulled the dress off over her head. She tossed the dress onto the love seat into the small space she had vacated.
Facing me now wearing only the briefest of thongs she slowly scratched her right side casually with her right hand. I had to admit that she was suddenly much more attractive without the shapeless dress and silently cursed myself for not having more light on the porch.
“Don’t be long” she whispered.
“I won’t” I answered.
She did an about face, then with her cute little bottom staring right at me she slid the thong down and kicked it to the side. Slowly she took the four or five steps across the room and climbed into the steaming water.
This girl knows better than to mix business with pleasure so I had to fight with myself a little to convince myself that Detective Samuels had forbidden me from working the case, so, technically, this was nothing but a social visit. Within a minute or so I, too, was nude and up to my neck in hot water, and we each raised our daiquiri glasses in a toast to new friends.
Several minutes later Jana slithered across the surface to land on my lap facing me and straddling me. She started her nibbling at my right ear. Damn it felt nice. Jill silently stepped out of the tub and waved a wicked but silent “Good by.”