“You look like you’re thinking way too hard.”
Roy looked to his left where Mace Perry was perched on her Ducati staring at him.
CHAPTER 14
WHAT ARE YOU doing back here?” Roy asked as he walked over.
“How do you know I ever left?”
“I can see the front entrance from my office. I’ve been staring out at it the last few hours.” He eyed the Ducati. “I wouldn’t have missed these wheels.”
“Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot. And I came back to try it again.”
Roy didn’t look inclined to accept her offer, but he said, “I never got your name.”
“It’s Mace.”
“Mace? That’s a weapon, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I am,” she quipped.
“Come on, what’s your name?”
“Really, my name is Mace.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
Mace looked toward the building. “I saw you talking to the security guard. What did he say?”
Roy looked at Ned through the glass. “Not much. Ned’s not exactly all that with it.”
“Tolliver might’ve ridden up in the elevator with whoever killed her. Ned was probably somewhere taking a sugar-slurp break. Killer did the deed and then either walked out or to his office in the building. Maybe at your law firm.”
“That’s one theory.”
“I’ll give you another one. You were the one who went up in the elevator with Tolliver, and she used her key card, so that leaves no record of you. You killed her and stuffed her in the fridge. You snuck down the stairs and waited until the guard came back. Then you waltzed in the building from the garage elevator side like it was the first time, so he could time-stamp you in his head. You go up to the office, fuss around at your desk for a while, go to the kitchen, open the fridge, catch the poor lady-which would explain any trace of her being on your person and vice versa-and then you call the cops in a fake-freak voice.”
Roy stared at her, his features darkening. “Is this how you try to make a fresh start? By accusing me again?”
“I’m not accusing you. But you’re a lawyer. You know what’s coming. You were on the scene alone with a dead woman. The cops will go down this very same trail with you at some point. So you better be prepared to answer. You can practice on me.”
“Why, so you can go back to the cops, tell them, and they can run holes right through my explanations?”
“I told you, I’m not a cop. And if what you’re saying is the truth it would be pretty tough to pin a murder rap on you.”
“Okay, I’ll play along. I accessed the parking garage with my card. That shows I got in around seven-thirty. Took the elevator up to my office, did some work. Went to make coffee and found Diane. I made the call to 911 at two minutes past eight. Records show she was at the office ninety minutes before I got there. I didn’t even know she was there.”
“That won’t cut it. You could’ve parked your car down the street, walked into the garage, waited for her to arrive, ridden up in the elevator with her, killed her, left, driven your car to the garage, and the same scenario follows.”
“Ned said he heard Diane saying hello to someone. That doesn’t fit with your scenario.”
“The testimony of morons is always heavily discounted by the blues and the courts. And the fact is, you could’ve come in when you said, at seven-thirty, gone up in the elevator, killed Tolliver, stuffed her in the fridge, and called the cops. Plenty of time.”
“Okay, what’s my motive?”
“I’m a purist chick when it comes to a criminal investigation, meaning I eyeball opportunity first. Motive usually comes later. But if it’s there, the cops will find it.”
“So what should I do? Grab the next flight to a country that has no extradition with the U.S.?”
“Nah, it’ll probably be okay.”
Roy looked startled. “Probably?”
“I’ve got a good nose for killers, and it’s not twitching around you. So where’d you play basketball?”
“How do you know I did? Just because of the office door hoop?”
“It’s partly your height, and the way you walk, and how you dissected my playing career earlier.”
“And what’s the other part?”
“I saw a set of Audi keys on your desk earlier. I checked the garage here. There was an Audi parked near the entrance, which would peg it as yours since you got here so early. In the backseat were a duffel bag, three basketballs, and four pairs of expensive B-ball shoes that pretty much only collegiate or professional players will put out for.”
“University of Virginia Cavaliers.”
“I actually already knew that since you also have the big cool orange sticker on your rear bumper.”
“You know, you look like the police chief.”
“She’s a lot taller than me.”
“I meant in the face, and the eyes. You both have green eyes, with some flecks of bronze.” He looked at her more closely. “And a tiny bubble of magenta in the right one.”
Mace studied her eyes in the Ducati’s side mirror. Incredibly enough, for the first time, she did see bronze and the pop of magenta.
“I don’t know any guys who even realize magenta is a color.”
He pointed at her. “I knew I recognized you. You’re her sister, Mace Perry. Should’ve remembered as soon as you said your name.” He broke off. “But the newspapers said your name was originally Mason Perry.” He looked at her funny. “Mason Perry, Perry Mason the TV lawyer? Is that a coincidence?”
“My father was a prosecutor, but he really wanted to be on the other side. So Mason Perry it was. But I go by Mace, not Mason. In fact, I had it legally changed.”
“What does your father think of that?”
“I don’t know. He was murdered when I was a kid.”
“I’m sorry, Mace. Didn’t know.”
“No reason for you to.”
“But weren’t you in-”
“I just got out.”
“Okay.” He put his hands in his pockets and looked awkwardly around while Mace fiddled with the straps on her helmet.
“For what it’s worth, I think you got a raw deal,” he finally said.
“Thanks. For what it’s worth, I think you’re telling the truth.”
“You know, the only reason I believe in reincarnation is because of Mona Danforth.”
“What do you mean?” she said curiously.
“How else can you explain Joseph Stalin coming back as a girl?”
Mace grinned. “You had run-ins with her as a CJA?”
“I wasn’t important enough to actually warrant the lady confronting me head-on. But her lieutenants ground my face into the legal dirt on more than one occasion. And the stories about her around PD are legendary.”
“You up for lunch? We can take turns devising torture methods to use on Mona.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Ben’s Chili Bowl. I’ve been dreaming about Benny’s half-smokes for two years.” She slid off the passenger seat cover. “Hop on.”
“I don’t have a helmet.”
“Then don’t hit your head if you fall off. Pretty sure my insurance lapsed.”
The Ducati sped off a few seconds later.