Daddy's Little Killer

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 

Orion flung open the door to his "office," the penthouse at the very upscale LaPierre Tower, with damp hair, bare feet, and a pair of jeans hugging slim hips and a dark blue silk shirt open to the navel. Spots of damp skin made the flimsy fabric cling in places. 

I cleared my throat. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Tony's in the den. You can have your secret conversation while I finish."

"The water's gonna ruin that silk shirt."

Orion smirked. "What, this old thing?"

My eyes darted around the airy space, minimalist decor, tastefully un-decorated in a fashionably expensive way. A chair here. A black or white sculpture there. Gleaming hardwood floors. Pristine white walls. Chrome light fixtures. It felt warm and sterile at the same time. "Where's the den?"

Orion pointed to a pane-glass partition with wood blinds muting the warm glow of light beyond. "Den. Door. Tony."

The aforementioned detective appeared in the doorway recently opened and gave a little wave. "Welcome to Orion's babe lair," he grinned at me. 

"We need to talk, Briscoe."

"And we'd be glad to answer any questions you have." Younger Detective Conall appeared over his partner's shoulder. He eyed me with frank curiosity. "Should I be offended that your invitation didn't explicitly include me, Dr. Eriksson?"

I groaned for two reasons-first that Conall's creepy interest once again lurked at the periphery of my world, and secondly, that Orion was complicit in an unwanted third person at my party. I shot Orion a dagger or two with my eyes before marching headlong into the lair as it was. "I doubt you're old enough to have the information I need, Detective Conall. Or do my eyes deceive me? Were you a detective fifteen years ago?"

Briscoe chuckled. "Puppy was but a rookie back in the day. Oh, pardon me; we had a new class of rookies by then, Puppy. Don't get riled on me now, or I'll have to smack your nose with Johnny's newspaper.

"Come on in here, Eriksson. May as well get this over with," the old warhorse-detective beckoned with one hand.

"You know why I'm here?"

"You ought to be asking Johnny these questions. It was his case after all," Briscoe said.

"Yes, a case he was so invested in that I suspect he's never given up trying to close it," I observed. "Sit. Both of you. Unless of course you can't comprehend why I would prefer questioning someone with more objectivity in this matter than Orion has."

"I think we just got insulted, Puppy. Did we?"

"Hmm. A little bit." Conall's mouth turned downward in a ridiculous pout of disapproval. "What can we tell you about the Bennett case?"

"Right now? Nothing. I'm more interested in the history of Darkwater Bay at the moment."

Briscoe scratched his goatee and grunted. "Well if that don't beat all. You got a knack for throwin' curve balls, Eriksson. Where do you want to start?"

"The beginning would be nice." I sat in one of the chairs and stared at the sofa, waiting for Briscoe and Conall to sit. 

"The beginning of Darkwater Bay?" Conall looked as perplexed as Briscoe. "How can ancient history possibly help you solve a murder, Dr. Eriksson?"

"I doubt the current city meets the archeological standard of ancient, detective. And I'll be the judge of what helps me understand the dynamic that led to Gwen Foster's murder and what didn't."