some thinking, and D.D. had a feeling they wouldn’t like the conclusion she’d reached.
“You,” she pointed her gun at D.D. “Gun, now.”
D.D. made a big show of opening up the left side of her long winter’s coat. Reaching slowly, very slowly for her shoulder-holstered weapon. Not resisting, but not rushing things, either.
“I’m confused,” Joe spoke up again, clearly trying to distract Natalie. He turned toward Alex. “You said Donnie was the killer. Right height given the blood spatter, the smear caused by the signet ring. So how come she’s the one holding the gun?”
“I might have lied about the blood spatter evidence,” Alex replied. “It’s possible, I haven’t even visited the scene. You actors play cops, why can’t we cops be actors? Of course, there is real evidence. What’s it going to tell us, Natalie?”
“Shut up. Just . . . shut up.”
“You killed Chaibongsai,” D.D. stated, forcing the blonde’s attention to ping-pong between the three of them. When cornered, distract, buy time, pray for the life of your unborn child. Abruptly, the muscles around her stomach spasmed harder, as if feeling her tension. Her eyes widened at the unexpected pain, then she forced herself to breathe deeply. Relax. Be cool, calm, in control.
“ Gun, ” Natalie yelled.
Reluctantly, D.D. handed it over. The blonde took it, then turned to Alex. “You, too.”
“Lab geek,” he tried, still playing to his cover. “No gun.”
Natalie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Take off your coat,” she ordered.
“But I’m cold.”
Natalie pulled the trigger. A bullet flew within an inch of Alex’s shoulder and added new ventilation to the trailer. Behind D.D., Donnie Bilger made a low, moaning sound which would probably precede a fainting spell. D.D. didn’t spare him a glance. She kept her hands on her clenching stomach, and her eyes on the homicidal blonde.
Alex calmly opened his jacket to reveal a gunless torso.
“Not an active-duty officer,” he said, which, as an academy professor, was the truth. “I don’t carry a weapon.”
Natalie grunted, finally seeming to relax a fraction. She kept the gun pointed at D.D., as she chewed her lower lip and seemed to contemplate next steps.
“Samuel promised to help me,” she said bitterly. “Teach me some cop tricks. I could take over the female lead. Why not? I’m good enough! Samuel said he would help, put in a good word, assist with private lessons. Men,” Natalie spat angrily. “Always only want one thing, especially from blondes.”
“I hear you,” D.D. muttered, gesturing to her swollen, achy belly.
“Shut up. You’re a cop. Men respect you.”
“Oh, honey—”
“Shut up!”
D.D. gave up trying to play the sister card, thinning her lips as her belly contracted again. Long. Hard. She panted lightly. Alex glanced back, gaze clearly questioning. She did her best to summon a reassuring smile.
Then it occurred to her: Her lower back pain all day, lack of appetite, on-again, off-again stomachache. Just over seven months. Twenty-nine weeks. Oh no, oh no, oh no.
“I arrived this afternoon at Samuel’s place for more rehearsal ,” Natalie was exclaiming. As her agitation grew, a faint accent colored her words. Eastern European, D.D. thought. Perhaps Russian. “Except this time, Samuel was all, I know who you are, I know who your boyfriend is, how you got your job. He was all . . . big cop. Big man around town. He’d do me a favor . All I had to do was sleep with him, and he’d keep my ‘casting couch’ a secret.
“ Pulll-eeze ,” the woman stated, holding herself further erect in her black widow’s costume. “I am Andréas Chernkoff’s girlfriend. Like I need some retired beat cop for protection. Andréas, he likes me for a reason. I’m not afraid of blood. And I can handle my own dirty work. Plus,” the actress added, “I do a Google search: How to kill a man. Find a most excellent website. Everything you need to
“You,” she pointed her gun at D.D. “Gun, now.”
D.D. made a big show of opening up the left side of her long winter’s coat. Reaching slowly, very slowly for her shoulder-holstered weapon. Not resisting, but not rushing things, either.
“I’m confused,” Joe spoke up again, clearly trying to distract Natalie. He turned toward Alex. “You said Donnie was the killer. Right height given the blood spatter, the smear caused by the signet ring. So how come she’s the one holding the gun?”
“I might have lied about the blood spatter evidence,” Alex replied. “It’s possible, I haven’t even visited the scene. You actors play cops, why can’t we cops be actors? Of course, there is real evidence. What’s it going to tell us, Natalie?”
“Shut up. Just . . . shut up.”
“You killed Chaibongsai,” D.D. stated, forcing the blonde’s attention to ping-pong between the three of them. When cornered, distract, buy time, pray for the life of your unborn child. Abruptly, the muscles around her stomach spasmed harder, as if feeling her tension. Her eyes widened at the unexpected pain, then she forced herself to breathe deeply. Relax. Be cool, calm, in control.
“ Gun, ” Natalie yelled.
Reluctantly, D.D. handed it over. The blonde took it, then turned to Alex. “You, too.”
“Lab geek,” he tried, still playing to his cover. “No gun.”
Natalie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Take off your coat,” she ordered.
“But I’m cold.”
Natalie pulled the trigger. A bullet flew within an inch of Alex’s shoulder and added new ventilation to the trailer. Behind D.D., Donnie Bilger made a low, moaning sound which would probably precede a fainting spell. D.D. didn’t spare him a glance. She kept her hands on her clenching stomach, and her eyes on the homicidal blonde.
Alex calmly opened his jacket to reveal a gunless torso.
“Not an active-duty officer,” he said, which, as an academy professor, was the truth. “I don’t carry a weapon.”
Natalie grunted, finally seeming to relax a fraction. She kept the gun pointed at D.D., as she chewed her lower lip and seemed to contemplate next steps.
“Samuel promised to help me,” she said bitterly. “Teach me some cop tricks. I could take over the female lead. Why not? I’m good enough! Samuel said he would help, put in a good word, assist with private lessons. Men,” Natalie spat angrily. “Always only want one thing, especially from blondes.”
“I hear you,” D.D. muttered, gesturing to her swollen, achy belly.
“Shut up. You’re a cop. Men respect you.”
“Oh, honey—”
“Shut up!”
D.D. gave up trying to play the sister card, thinning her lips as her belly contracted again. Long. Hard. She panted lightly. Alex glanced back, gaze clearly questioning. She did her best to summon a reassuring smile.
Then it occurred to her: Her lower back pain all day, lack of appetite, on-again, off-again stomachache. Just over seven months. Twenty-nine weeks. Oh no, oh no, oh no.
“I arrived this afternoon at Samuel’s place for more rehearsal ,” Natalie was exclaiming. As her agitation grew, a faint accent colored her words. Eastern European, D.D. thought. Perhaps Russian. “Except this time, Samuel was all, I know who you are, I know who your boyfriend is, how you got your job. He was all . . . big cop. Big man around town. He’d do me a favor . All I had to do was sleep with him, and he’d keep my ‘casting couch’ a secret.
“ Pulll-eeze ,” the woman stated, holding herself further erect in her black widow’s costume. “I am Andréas Chernkoff’s girlfriend. Like I need some retired beat cop for protection. Andréas, he likes me for a reason. I’m not afraid of blood. And I can handle my own dirty work. Plus,” the actress added, “I do a Google search: How to kill a man. Find a most excellent website. Everything you need to
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