“Partners.” Tamika snorted. “He tellin’ you what to do? They tell you to work with him if you want to keep your career? It’s what they do. Now you talk to me because you’ve got the same color of skin?”
Another almost panicked glance from George. His partner wasn’t used to older women not falling for his charm. Andi hesitated for a moment and then decided to just risk it.
“No, he’s talking because I hate people.”
Tamika’s gaze lasered in on him. “You hate Blacks? You admit it? In front of a lawyer?”
So she was aware of what she had once been.
“No. I hate all people. I admit that. They breathe.”
For a long moment, nobody said anything. George was staring at him, no doubt wondering what had gotten into Andi. Then, Tamika started laughing. It was a short, amused chuckle before she zeroed in on him again.
“So you like the Blacks?”
To hell with it. She probably won’t be able to remember anyway. Andi angled his body sideways and pressed a soft kiss to George’s lips. His partner gasped in surprise. This was highly unorthodox even for Andi. He turned back to Tamika. She had her head cocked to the side.
“They know this?” She gestured between them. It was not entirely clear who she meant by ‘they,’ but Andi assumed it had to be their bosses.
“Our chief doesn’t care. She’s too busy working on her career.” It wasn’t entirely true since he was pretty sure Chief Norris would have cared a great deal if things were different.
“Female chief. Black partner. Homosexuals.” Tamika sighed. “I miss so much. Stupid head.” She bashed the side of her head with her palm. “What do you want?”
Since Andi had taken the helm of this conversation, George let him have at it. “We have a few questions for you.”
“I gathered as much.”
The dry humor in that statement had Andi chuckling, which made Tamika grin. “Did you know Jagger Thomasin?”
“Did I? Is that no-good piece of shit dead?” The aggressive tone almost made Andi flinch. He had read somewhere that people suffering from Alzheimer’s sometimes could have violent episodes.
“Yes. He died almost three weeks ago. Didn’t your daughter tell you? Or perhaps Tammy?”
Tamika shook her head as if she’d gotten wet. “My daughter rarely comes here. Tammy is a good girl. Perhaps she’s told me. I forget a lot.” She closed her eyes. When she opened them, Andi knew immediately that their meeting was over. “Who are you? What are you doing in my room?” Her voice was getting shriller with every word.
Andi and George backed away toward the door. “We’re so sorry, Mrs. Carter. Please excuse us.”
As soon as they were through the door, the caretaker who had been waiting a few feet away went to Tamika. She nodded at them shortly before she tried to calm down the agitated woman. Andi and George stayed for a moment longer, making sure the caretaker didn’t need them before they left the building.
“That wasn’t as helpful as we’d hoped.” George started the engine.
“No. Though we do have the list of things Suzie stole. Perhaps there’s a name that stands out. And let’s ask Shireen if she has something about Tamika’s husband.”
“You mean there might be answers in the past?” George threaded into traffic.
“As always.” Andi stared outside. “There has to be a connection between all the victims. Suzie, Isabelle, and Jagger all have an association with Paradise Home, even if it’s around a few corners and so far-fetched it can hardly be counted as real. Judge Dunhill and Trevor are the only ones we can’t tie to it.”
“What if they’re the focal point?” George was drumming “Don’t Fear the Reaper” on the steering wheel. Andi was proud that he was getting better at recognizing his man’s favorite rhythms.
“Could be. But then what’s the connection? The judge and his buddy were racist, so it makes some sense for Jagger to maybe connect back to them. Suzie and Isabelle were as Caucasian as you can get. I can’t imagine them in a situation where they had anything to do with the judge. Especially since he’s not even from South Carolina.”
“Well, they are at least connected through the way they died. Which leaves the question how does the killer decide who to end?”
“I can safely say it has nothing to do with ethnicity, social standing, or bodily features. The impression I got was that these people have been—mean.”
George sighed. “Judge Dunhill, Trevor, and Jagger definitely fit that description. I can’t picture them as pleasant human beings. But Suzie and Isabelle? Okay, Suzie was a thief, but women are generally more polite than men, and Director Delaine said she was well-liked.”
Andi leaned his head back. “I hate this case. And now we have to talk to Savalle and DeCapristo and share our meager findings.” He waved the folder George had given him when they had entered the car.
