He shook his head.“Nothing.I walked around for a couple of hours, and looked for the girl.I didn’t see her.Eventually, I decided to go look for Steven Morton, but he wasn’t in his office.So I came back here.”
“He wasn’t at work today?”
Normally that wouldn’t strike me as strange at all.I wouldn’t think anything of it.Maybe he didn’t have any classes this morning.Or any appointments.Maybe he’d taken the opportunity to sleep in and make love to his wife.
Or maybe he’d left home early and gone to make love to his mistress instead.
“He wasn’t at work when I looked for him,” Zachary said.
Except when I’d been there earlier, the house had looked empty.And then there was the murder next door.
Yes, it was definitely worth mentioning that Steven wasn’t where he was supposed to be this morning.
“I need to talk to Mendoza,” I said, pushing my chair back.
Zachary nodded.“We’ll hold down the fort.Does the dog need to go out?”
Edwina had decided he was no threat and had gone back to sleep, curled into a circle.She snored gently.Although when she heard the word ‘out,’ she raised her head to look at him.
“It’s probably best to wait until we have a leash to put her on,” I said.“I’d hate to have her run away.She isn’t familiar with this neighborhood, and we don’t have a fenced yard.”
Zachary nodded.“If she gets desperate, I’ll see about finding a piece of string I can tie to her collar.”
That would work.I grabbed my purse from the hook by the door.“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“We’ll be fine,” Zachary said and glanced at the dog.“Won’t we?”
Edwina lowered her head and rested her snout on her legs.
I walked out.
Like yesterday,it was a short drive from Music Row to Crieve Hall.Fifteen minutes later, I pulled to a stop outside Mrs.Grimshaw’s house.
Or more accurately, I pulled into the driveway next door, where Steven’s car had been parked yesterday, because Mrs.Grimshaw’s driveway was full.
The paramedics had taken their ambulance and left.As Mendoza had told them, there was nothing they could do for Mrs.G.But his gray sedan was still there.So was a white crime scene van from the Metropolitan Nashville Police Department.Behind it, a black-and-white squad car.And the most recent arrival, the hearse from the morgue.Just before it, wedged between the hearse and the squad car, a TV van from Channel Six, bristling with antennae, even more so than Mendoza’s car.A young anchor woman, blond and gorgeous in a power-red suit, was touching up her lipstick in the side mirror of the van, while a camera man was hauling a TV camera up on his shoulder.
As the front door opened and the staff from the ME’s office started wheeling the gurney out, they both straightened, and the young woman turned to the camera, teeth on display.She had a lot of them, and they were blindingly white.I could see her mouth start to move, although I was too far away to hear what she said.
And then Mendoza bounded out of the house and across the grass, waving the morgue people to a stop on his way past.
I couldn’t hear what he said either, but I didn’t have to.He was clearly unhappy about the camera being there.He expostulated with the camera operator, who kept filming until Mendoza got right in his face—or in the camera lens—and presumably threatened him with dire consequences if he didn’t cease and desist immediately.
The camera was lowered, and Mendoza waved to the morgue crew to continue.They came out of the house with a gurney topped by a black bag, and navigated the couple of steps down to ground level carefully.Once they were on the walkway, they put the gurney down and started wheeling it toward the morgue van.
The news anchor, meanwhile, was talking to Mendoza.Flirting, unless my eyes deceived me.It was a little difficult to see from this distance, but she was smiling, and flipping her hair, and putting her hand on his arm.It might just have been a typically feminine tactic to get her way, but I did get the impression that she enjoyed it.
It might even have worked.If she was trying to get permission to turn the camera back on, she got it.Not until the morgue van had tucked its sad burden out of sight, but once it started backing down the driveway and onto the street, he must have told her she could go back to filming, because the camera came back up.Mendoza must have even agreed to take a couple of questions, because he stayed there, in front of the camera, for a couple of minutes, and made nice.I could see his smile flash, and the young woman in red practically had to wipe drool off her chin.
Then he gave her a final, dazzling smile before walking back up the driveway and into the house.The young lady spent another minute finishing up the broadcast, and then she and the camera man piled into the news van and reversed out of the driveway after the van from the morgue.I waited until they, too, had disappeared up the street before I made my way across Mrs.Grimshaw’s lawn to the front door.
Five
Mendoza did not lookhappy to see me, although he was polite as he blocked the door into the house.“Mrs.Kelly.”
“Detective,” I said, peering over his shoulder.I’m as tall as he is in heels.When I’m wearing heels, I’m as tall as Mendoza is without, I mean.
He shifted to block my view.“What can I do for you?”
