Dream a Little Death by Susan Kandel

Author:Susan Kandel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2017-05-23T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

“Welcome back,” Lieutenant Hepworth said. “Just a couple of questions.”

I crossed my arms and leaned across the big wooden desk. “I already told your colleagues. I’m not talking to you until my attorney arrives.”

It wasn’t for nothing that the family motto was, “lawyer up.”

“He must be caught in traffic.” Lieutenant Hepworth checked his computer monitor. “Yup. Accident on the 10 near at Grand. The left two lanes are closed and it’s backed up for half a mile.” He shook his head. “Always wear seatbelts. But I’m sure I don’t have to remind a law-abiding citizen such as yourself.”

Lieutenant Hepworth stuck a pencil into the electric sharpener and hummed through the high-pitched buzzing. When he was done, he picked up another pencil and did it again.

“I’d like to use the restroom,” I said.

“I think it would be best if you waited,” he said. “Coffee?”

“This is ridiculous,” I said. “I’ve been cooped up here for hours. I gave my statement to the detectives. You, I’m not talking to.”

Lieutenant Hepworth tapped his pencil on the desk. “I suggest you calm down. You have nothing to be concerned about. Unless, of course, you happened to have murdered Lizeth Pimentel. Not that anyone is jumping to that conclusion. I mean, just because you spent much of today making inquiries about the victim’s whereabouts to multiple people, starting with—” He flipped through his papers. “Miss Rodica Balan of Glendale—”

“The woman pretending to be a psychic?” I broke in. “She’s a con artist.”

“Haven’t the Roma been discriminated against enough?” he asked. “And then you accosted young Tyler Loomis—”

“The stoner? Another model citizen, with his ankle bracelet.”

Lieutenant Hepworth said, “Perhaps you are unaware that juveniles placed under house arrest have much lower rates of recidivism than those who are incarcerated. So there’s every reason to be hopeful.”

I leaned back in my chair. “Guess I’m a realist.”

“And finally we have—” He flipped through his notepad again. “Ah, yes. Mr. Conor Gilligan. The residential manager out there in Eagle Rock. Hard-working fellow, just minding his own business. Then you come along, threatening him with legal action unless he opens the door to Lizeth Pimentel’s apartment. Someone could argue that you sent him in there knowing full well he’d contaminate the crime scene.”

“Don’t you think you’re reaching?” I asked. “I met Lizeth Pimentel exactly once.” Twice, if you counted bumping into her at the hospital, though I saw no need to mention that. “Why would I wish her any harm?”

Lieutenant Hepworth turned up his palms. “I don’t pretend to fully understand the criminal mind.”

“This is all very interesting,” I said, “but I’d appreciate it if we could just sit here in silence until my attorney arrives.”

Lieutenant Hepworth looked up at the clock. Well, his good eye looked up at the clock, and the other looked in a vaguely westerly direction. “I hope it isn’t much longer.”

Nope. He couldn’t stop.

“You do realize these big-shot attorneys hit you up for transportation time,” he said. “What does he charge? $400 per hour? $500?

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