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“Did she show you her-”
“Leo,” a woman said from behind them, “what’s going on?”
Spencer turned. A beautiful, dark-haired woman crossed to stand beside Leonardo Noble.
“Kay, Detectives Malone and Sciame. My business manager, Kay Noble.”
She shook both their hands, smiling warmly. “His ex-wife as well, Detectives.”
Spencer returned her smile. “That would explain the name.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
The inventor cleared his throat. “They say the woman who was here the other day wasn’t a police officer at all.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Did she show you a badge, ma’am?”
“Not me, our housekeeper. I’ll get her. Excuse me a moment.”
Spencer experienced a moment of pity for the housekeeper. Kay Noble didn’t look like the type of woman who tolerated mistakes.
Moments later, she returned with the woman, who looked upset. “Tell the officers what you told me, Valerie.”
The housekeeper-sixtyish with iron-gray hair swept up into a flattering French twist-clasped her hands in front of her. “The woman flashed a badge…or what I thought was a badge. She asked to speak with Mr. Noble.”
“You didn’t take a good look at her identification?”
“No. I-” The woman cut her eyes toward her employer. “She looked like the police and sounded like…” Her words trailed off; she cleared her throat. “I’m very sorry this happened. I promise it won’t again.”
Before Kay Noble could comment, Spencer stepped in. “Let me assure you, I don’t believe any harm’s been done. She was a friend of the deceased and is also an ex-cop. Not NOPD.”
“It’s no wonder you were fooled,” Tony added, “she’s got the whole cop schtick down pat.”
The housekeeper looked relieved; Kay Noble furious. Leonardo surprised them all by laughing loudly.
“I hardly find this fu
“Of course it is, love,” he said. “It’s all fu
Color flooded her face. “But she could have been anybody. What if Alice -”
“Nothing happened. Like the officer said, no harm done.” He gave her a quick hug, then turned to Spencer. “So, Detectives, how can I help you?”
A half hour later, Spencer and Tony thanked Leonardo Noble and headed for their car. The inventor had answered all their questions. He hadn’t known Cassie Finch. Had never been to either UNO or Café Noir. Nor did he know, or was he in contact with, any local White Rabbit players. He explained that he and a friend had invented the game, that they’d never published it and that his co-inventor was dead.
The two detectives didn’t speak until they had settled inside, safety belts fastened, motor idling. “What do you think?” Spencer asked.
“Babe one, Slick zero.”
“Kiss my ass, Pasta Man. ”
Tony laughed. “I’ll pass. Frankly, I’m not into that.”
“I was talking about Noble, by the way. What did you think?”
“He’s a little different. And that thing about working with his ex-wife. No way I could work with mine.”
“You and Betty have been married forever.”
“Yeah, but if we weren’t, she’d drive me crazy.”
“You think he’s on the up-and-up?”
“Struck me that way, but hard to tell without the element of surprise.”
“Killian,” Spencer muttered. “She’s in my way.”
“What’re you going to do about it, hotshot?”
Spencer narrowed his eyes. “Café Noir is just up the street. Let’s see if the meddling Ms. Killian is there.”
CHAPTER 13
Thursday, March 3, 2005
4:40 p.m.
Stacy looked up to see Detectives Malone and Sciame heading across the coffeehouse toward her. Malone looked really pissed.
He had found out about her visit with Leonardo Noble.
Sorry, fellas. Free country.
“Hello, Detectives,” she said as they neared her table. “Coffee break? Or social call?”
“Impersonating a police officer is a crime, Ms. Killian,” Spencer began.
“I know that.” She smiled sweetly and shut her laptop. “And what does that have to do with me?”
“Don’t bullshit me. We talked to Noble.”
“Leonardo Noble?”
“Of course, Leonardo Noble. Creator of the game White Rabbit and considered by fans to be the Supreme White Rabbit.”
“Glad to see you’ve been paying attention.”
Behind Spencer, Tony cleared his throat. She saw he struggled not to laugh. She decided she liked Tony Sciame. A sense of humor was a good thing in the job.
“Still,” she continued, “I don’t understand what this has to do with me?”
“You told him you were a NOPD detective.”
“No,” she corrected, “he assumed I was. His housekeeper, actually.”
“Which was exactly what you wanted.”
She didn’t deny it. “Last time I checked, that wasn’t against the law. Unless law here in Louisiana is a lot different than in Texas.”
“I could haul you in and charge you with obstruction.”
“But you won’t. Look…” She stood so she could stand nose to nose with him. “You could take me in, keep me for a few hours, give me a hard time. But at the end of the day you wouldn’t arrest me because it wouldn’t stick.”
“She’s got a point, Slick,” Tony said. He shifted his focus to her. “Here’s the deal, Stacy. Can’t have you questioning potential suspects before we do. We need to get ’em cold, so we can gauge their reactions to our questions. You know this, you were a cop. You know we can’t have you leading a witness. Putting thoughts in their heads that weren’t there before. It taints their testimony. I’d define that as obstruction.”
“I can help,” she said. “And you know it.”
“You don’t have a badge. You’re out of it. Sorry.”
She wouldn’t be dissuaded. Not until she felt certain the investigation was on solid footing. But she wasn’t about to let them know that. “Consider me a source, then. Like a snitch.”
Tony nodded, expression pleased. “Good. You get a lead, you pass it to us. I have absolutely no problem with that. You, Slick?”
Stacy cut her eyes to the younger detective. He wasn’t falling for her submissive routine. Smarter than the average bear, after all.
“No problem with that,” he said, not looking at his partner.
“Glad that’s settled.” The older cop rubbed his hands together. “So, what do they have here that’s good?”
“I’m particularly fond of the cappuccinos, but it’s all good.”
“I think I’ll try one of those frozen thingies that all the teenagers are drinking. Want anything?”
Spencer shook his head, still not taking his gaze from Stacy.
“What?” she asked as Tony walked away.
“Why are you doing this?”
“I told you why. At the memorial service.”
“It’s not smart, Stacy. Involving yourself in this investigation. You’re not a cop anymore. You were first to the scene. You very well may have been the last person to see Cassie Finch alive.”
“Surely not the last. That would make me a murderer. And you and I both know I’m not.”
“I know no such thing.”
She made a sound of frustration. “Give me a break, Malone.”
“I have, Stacy. But the game’s over.” He leaned slightly toward her. “The fact is, I’m the law and you’re not. This is the last time I’ll ask nicely. Stay out of my way. ”
Stacy watched him walk away, joining his partner just as he took his first sip of the frozen coffee-and-chocolate concoction he’d ordered. She smiled to herself.
May the best investigator win, fellas.
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