Cat's Out - Book 3

Chapter 4 - cat log

Jack is less stunned than I was. "So he's a cop." She opens a red notebook on my mother's kitchen island and makes some notes. I wondered why she had it with her. Now I know.

"Don't tell me you're keeping a file on all this?" I peek over her shoulder. Sure enough, she's got dates, times, and incidents listed down both sides of the open pages. I see "DV" all over the place. That must be me. "You are such a geek."

"We gotta do this right." She pens in last night's date and my activities. I see now that the DV has an extension. DV-P.

"DVP? Are you serious?"

"I have to know what you see as Darla and what you see as the panther." She jots down a few more notes. "Okay, what else? Smell anything?"

"Yeah. My new best friend losing her mind."

"Can you be serious? By your own account, people are dying."

I sigh and slide onto the stool next to her. "Okay. No smells. I don't think any more of your druggie friends have visited recently."

"Hmm." Jack notes that. "Think you shut him down?"

"Thought of it. But more likely he's just laying low."

"You didn't happen to notice which police department he was with?" Jack taps her pen on the notebook.

"Never occurred to me. I assumed Bloomfield Hills."

"Don't assume. Cops don't always have to live in the city they serve."

"Didn't think of that. I only saw the badge, couldn't see the writing on it."

The phone on the counter trills. I consider letting it ring, but too much has happened recently. I snatch it on the third trill. "Hello?"

"Good afternoon, ma'am." A man's voice. Familiar, but I can't quite place it. "I'm looking for Caroline Stephenson. Is she at home?"

"Umm...may I ask who's calling?" I shrug at Jack.

"This is Detective Lance Graves of the Detroit Police Department. I'm calling in regards to her daughter, Star Velasquez."

A detective? Maybe they don't believe it was an overdose. "My mother's not home right now. Maybe you can reach her at work."

There's a pause on the line. "Your mother? And would you be Star's sister?"

"Yes. That's me."

"I'm sorry about your sister...I didn't catch your name."

Jack is practically stretching across the kitchen island, trying to listen in. I cover the mouthpiece. "It's a cop. Asking about Star."

Her eyes get big. She mouths "Careful."

Suddenly I get her drift. We already know one cop is bad. What do we know about this one? But how hard could it be for him to find out my name? He probably already has this address.

"Darla," I say into the phone. "I'm Darla Velasquez."

"You were the one who called about Star's disappearance." It's not a question.

"Yes, sir."

"Ain't no sirs, here. Call me Lance." Another long pause. "Listen...Darla. I'd like to talk to you. In person."

"About what? Are you investigating Star's murder?"

"So you think she was murdered, too."

I freeze. Is this guy on my side? Or does he think I'm a suspect? That last thought strikes me as ridiculous. How could I possibly be a murder suspect? Unless, of course, he knows about my alter-ego, who is quite capable of heinous crimes.

My voice shakes as I reply. "Yeah. I think she was. She was clean."

"I think so, too. So can we talk? It's not an interrogation. There's things I want you to know."

Things he wants me to know? "Umm...sure."

"I can come see you. Will you be home all afternoon?"

Panic stirs in my gut. My mother would freak if she came home to find a cop in her house, asking me questions about Star. "No. I mean yes. But don't come to the house. There's an ice cream place nearby. The Frosty Freeze. Next to Krogers."

"I can find it. How about we meet in an hour? Ice cream's on me."

I'm gonna get fat from all the Frosty Freeze ice cream I've been ingesting lately, but I agree.

"See you there, Darla." He hangs up.

Jack is twisting in her stool like she needs to get to a bathroom pronto. "What the hell? What's going on?"

"That cop thinks Star was murdered. Wants to talk to me. We're meeting at the Frosty Freeze in an hour."

"What?" Jack is on her feet. "I'm going with you."

I start to protest.

"No debate." Jack holds a finger up. "You don't know if he's a good cop or a bad cop. I'll hang back and watch. He drags you into his car, I'm calling the good cops."

"How do you know the good cops from the bad cops?"

"Don't ask so many questions. Just let me sit at another table and observe."

"This your first stake out?" I cross my arms over my chest and grin.

Jack thinks for a second. "Unless you count the time I watched Trevor Simmons for two months before he threatened to tell the principal."

"Poor guy didn't know what he was missing."

"Turns out he's gay." Jack starts a new page in her notebook.

"All the best ones are."

We laugh and spend the next hour planning our strategy.