Chapter 9

   Captain Corday sat at his desk reading Yaritza’s report on her interview with Nikea Robertson. Corday alternated between reading and glancing sternly at her. The man was hard to read at all times, and he liked it that way.

   Finally, he put down the report. “You have a better memory than me.”

  “Huh?”

  “I don’t seem to remember asking for car pictures. They developed yet?”

  “At the lab now.”

  “What about that tissue?”

  “Being analyzed as we speak.”

   Corday rubbed his eyes. “Yaritza, you’ve had a long day. You did the casino, Tika Sanchez, and Nikea Robertson. I don’t think half the detectives here do that much so soon.”

  “If we don’t get the facts fast, the killer will get away. We already have time working against us.”

   He nodded in agreement. “True. Tell me your thoughts on Tika Sanchez.”

  “A bitch who thinks the world owes her something.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “Not enough to keep her here. She fucked Robertson and thought that was all that would happen.”

  “And then she got knocked up. And lost it.”

  “Right.”

  “Seems like a possible motive.”

  “Except that I told her Mark’s hand was cut off.”

   Eyebrows went up. “And?”

  “She accepted it.”

   Corday sighed. “Fine. Now, what about Nikea Robertson?”

   Yaritza sat back in the chair on the other side of Corday’s desk. “She’s a puzzle.”

  “How so?”

  “At first her matter-of-fact attitude had me suspicious. That’s when I got the idea about the car.”

  “Hey, according to this report, it was my idea!”

  “Oops, sorry.”

  “Since you didn’t have a warrant to do that, I’ll make it my idea. As to the lab analysis of that tissue, it’ll never hold up in court, I just know it, especially if anything good comes from it.”

  “I hear you, loud and clear.”

  “Good. Continue.”

  “When I was taking the pictures, she made an interesting remark.”

  “About her ex?”

  “No, about me. I told her I’d be out of her hair as soon as the pictures were done, and she implied that she’d like me to come around sometime again.”

   Corday smiled. “That’s interesting, go on.”

  “After I was done, I said it was time to go get lunch, and she invited me to eat there. I made an excuse and got the hell out.”

  “Didn’t approve of her food?” he joked. “Come on, she’d just learned her ex was killed and castrated. Did you give the hand story with her too?”

  “No, I played it straight. I just got this strange feeling about her, a vibe.”

  “Spill it.”

  “I got the strangest feeling that she has plans for me.”

  “Plans?”

  “Sexual.”

  “Oh come on!”

  “Seriously, I think she assumed that my taking pictures was an excuse to be around her, and she got the wrong idea.”

  “Did you give her your card?”

  “No, I didn’t want to encourage her. I felt I’d gotten what I needed.”

   Corday looked at the report again. “You mentioned you got her parents’ number. Did you make the call?”

  “I did. It checks out, she and her son were there. You know, somehow it makes sense.”

  “What?”

  “Her attitude about Mark and Celestina was angry, but controlled, and in the face of him being dead, it was much too controlled. Then came the invitations. I think Mark Robertson married a lesbian, probably a closet lesbian.”

   Corday shrugged. “They do exist. You think it makes her a suspect?”

  “To be honest, I don’t think she killed her ex-husband, but we’ll wait to see what the evidence says.”

  “And now I have an order for you.”

  “What?”

  “Go home, eat, sleep, and come back when you’re ready.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “I mean, Mark Robertson’s body is being examined, and that means we can sit back just a bit. I don’t need you here butt-ass early tomorrow, so you come in when you want to. Just try to make it before noon.”

   Yaritza shrugged and stood up. “Aye-aye.”