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KARLEEN RIVERA’S CHERRY blossom perfume hit Dee as soon as she and Lisa approached the front desk of Arnold’s Distribution.
Karleen squirmed when she saw them, the brown undertones draining from her skin leaving her pale.
Dee nudged Lisa and Lisa nodded as if she found the woman’s demeanor weird too.
Karleen signaled to them to wait as she spoke into her earpiece.
“Something’s off with this woman,” Dee whispered to Lisa. “She’s jumpy as hell.”
“Black chicks with guns would make a lot of people jumpy.” Lisa grinned.
“It’s more than that,” Dee whispered.
“I’m sorry for the mix up sir,” Karleen said to the customer, her red rose tattoo wiggling on her hand as she tapped the desk. “You’ll receive that shipment by tomorrow morning. We appreciate your business.” She finished the call and focused on Dee and Lisa. “Welcome to Arnold Distributions.” Her voice cracked. “May I help you?”
“I’m Detective Dee Quarter of the Baltimore Police Department.” She showed her badge. “This is my partner, Lisa Swanson.”
Lisa smiled.
“Detectives?” A tense smile crept across Karleen’s lips, which she’d covered in glossy pink lipstick. Her short, chocolate-brown waves hit a few inches past her jawline. “I hope nothing’s wrong.”
“We want to ask you some quick questions,” Lisa said. “If that’s okay.”
“Sure.” Karleen sat tall, clearing her throat. Her blue and white peasant blouse hung loose at the shoulders. “What can I do for you?”
“Ms. Rivera, you drive a maroon Mazda, right?” Dee mentioned the year and make of it.
She rested her hands between the business envelopes and appointment book. “Yes, ma’am. Is something wrong?”
Dee said the license plate number. “Is that also correct?”
Karleen’s thick, arched eyebrows creased making her dark eyes more elusive. “Yes, but what is this about?”
“You confirm that is your car?” Dee asked. “It’s registered to you.”
“Yes, it’s my car.” The color crept back into Karleen’s cheeks. “I’m getting anxious here.” She chuckled. “Did I do something? What brought you here?”
“We’re looking for a guy,” Dee said. “Any guy that drives your car.”
“No guys drive my car.” Karleen batted her long lashes. “Why would I let a guy drive my car?”
“Do you have a boyfriend or male friend?”
“I don’t have time for dating.” She stuck her nose in the air. “And I don’t have male friends. There’s no one who’d drive my car.”
“No man whatsoever?” Lisa asked.
“I didn’t speak Spanish did I?”
Dee smirked. “Why so defensive?”
“I didn’t mean to be defensive, but you’ve yet to tell me what this is about.”
“We believe a guy’s been driving your car,” Dee said.
“I told you that’s not possible.”
Lisa rocked on her heels, poking her lips out. “What would you do if I told you that your car was in a grocery store parking lot on Long Drive this morning?”
“I’d say that’s impossible.” Karleen sipped from the water bottle. “First off I was getting ready for work, and I live across town from Long Drive. Why would I go shopping over there?”
“You said you were getting ready for work?” Dee squinted. “We haven’t mentioned a specific time, and that store is twenty-four hours.”
Lisa smirked.
“I...” Light sweat broke out on Karleen’s forehead. “I assumed it was around seven or something like that. Either way my car wasn’t at that store.”
“Okay,” Dee said with a smile. “Thank you for your time.”
“What is this about?” Karleen stood, her denim skirt wrinkling in the front.
“Bye, Ms. Rivera.” Dee waved as she and Lisa walked out the door. “It’s one thing when someone lies to you but another when you know they’re lying before they even speak.”
“I hope she doesn’t play poker.”
Dee brushed up beside Lisa as they walked through the parking lot. “She’s covering for someone.” She stopped at her car, taking out her keys. “I’d bet my life on it.”
****
THAT NIGHT, DEE DROVE up Karleen’s street and parked away from the streetlight so no one could spot her.
Karleen walked out her front door followed by a heavyset man of average height.
He kissed Karleen on the cheek then she left.
Dee hurried to the house and knocked on the door.
The man stuck out his wide, square head. “Yes? May I help you?” He had a hitch-pitched Spanish accent and lisp.
“I’m Detective Dee Quarter.” She showed her badge. “I need to ask—”
“Shit.” He widened the door and lifted his fat, sagging arms. “I didn’t do nothing.”
“I need to speak to you.” Dee put her badge up. “You’re not under arrest.”
At least not yet.
“What is this about?” He scratched his large belly, which flopped from under his sleeveless, white T.
“Just some simple questions.”
He stepped onto the porch, looking left and right. “You sure I won’t be arrested?”
“Have you done something?”
He shook his head, his fat lips wobbling.
“Then you have nothing to worry about.” She smiled, hoping to lighten the mood. “Can we talk?”
“Yeah, okay.” He gestured for her to enter.
Dee walked in, bumping into the brown console table by the door.
“Sorry.” He slid it away.
Dee grimaced at the stench of processed cheese and jalapenos coming from somewhere in the house. “What’s your name?”
“Jesus.” He kicked old sneakers out the way.
She shook his sweaty hand. “Nice to meet you.”
He led her further into the quaint, middle-sized living room.
Light-pink walls peeked underneath colorful, abstract paintings.
“This is nice,” Dee said.
The red sofa gave flair to the lavender carpet.
“Beautiful paintings too.”
“Yeah, it’s Mexican art.” Jesus scratched his sweaty forehead.
“Whoever decorated this room has taste.” Dee sat, smiling. “It’s retro.”
The place oozed with charm despite the crumpled up beer can, container of half-eaten nachos and bottle of Cholula hot sauce on the coffee table.
“You’re related to Karleen or something?”
“So this is about Karleen?” He threw his head back, sighing. “She’s my cousin. I fell on hard times so she’s letting me stay here a while. What’s going on?”
“Does she have male friends or a boyfriend?”
“No.”
“No one that would have access to her car?”
“Her car?” He scratched his jiggling arm. “Karleen wouldn’t let anyone drive her car. She’s extremely possessive.” He moved the nachos and sat on the table. “What’s going on?”
“Your cousin lied to me. She’s let a man drive her car at least twice. No offense, but I already know it’s not you. He’s slender and had on a baseball cap and shades.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
She glared at him, playing bad cop. “Jesus.”
“I don’t.” He jumped up. The imprint of his deep belly button showed through his shirt. “I swear there is no man I can think of.”
Dee concentrated on the hot sauce bottle. “Could it be someone she’s seeing secretly?”
“No.” Jesus walked from the table. “Karleen tells me everything. We’re closer than brother and sister.”
“She’s very attractive. Hard to believe she isn’t seeing anyone.”
“She just got out of a messy situation.” He rubbed his hands. “I tried to talk sense into her, and she finally left him alone. Grayson almost drove her crazy.”
Dee sprung up as if a thunderbolt hit her. “What did you say?”
He jolted, blinking his eyes. “Huh?”
“You said Grayson? Grayson who?”
“Grayson Paul.”
Dee struggled to get the words out. “The writer?”
“Yeah, the mystery dude. They had an affair. He dumped her, and she couldn’t let go but she’s better now.”
Dee wobbled, processing what he’d said.
“Whoa.” Jesus held her. “Are you all right?”
“Grayson Paul was seeing Karleen? When?”
“It only lasted a month. He broke it off about two months ago.”
“Two months ago?” Dee felt as if every inch of her shattered.
“What’s wrong? Do you know Grayson?”
“No.” She ran to the door. “I don’t know his ass at all.”