Chapter 14
OCTAVIA TURNED her head to study Linda. “You’re awfully quiet.”
Linda, wearing the long brunette wig, sat watching the apartment building across the street. “I just want to get this over with. I don’t like knowing Bilson has a gun.”
“It’s better than not knowing.” Octavia scratched under her own wig, the short blond one. “I can’t believe Nan Boyd has a sex tape. I don’t even have a sex tape. Hey, did you find the charger for Sullivan’s phone?”
“Not yet. I might have to buy one.”
Octavia frowned. “Seriously, is something wrong?”
Linda gave a little laugh. “You mean more than usual?” She nodded to the file Octavia held in her lap. “Any luck with the Pierce case?”
“Not yet. I’m reading the interview with his wife where she described how he died. Listen to this. ‘Grady and Eden and I were celebrating Grady’s birthday. He wanted his favorite—rolled oysters with jalapeño beer cheese.’” She made a face. “That sounds nauseating.”
“Agree.”
“‘When we got home, he wasn’t feeling too good, said his chest felt tight. I just assumed he’d eaten too much and gave him some Alka Seltzer and told him to lie down. He walked out of the room, and we heard him fall. Eden gave him CPR while I called 911.’”
“Was a 911 call made?”
“Yeah, and the transcript is here. She told the dispatcher the same thing—that he’d eaten rolled oysters and beer cheese and complained of tightness in his chest, then collapsed. The dispatcher noted she could hear CPR being performed in the background.”
“But that could’ve been faked.”
“Sure.”
“Wait, here comes Bilson’s car.”
Octavia turned to look. “What a piece of crap.”
“And yet it’s better than what you drive,” Linda offered dryly. “Hey, it’s for sale.”
Octavia closed the file. “I’d rather walk.”
While they watched, Bilson got out of his car, dressed in cut-offs and a T-shirt. He used his key fob to lock the doors.
“Hopefully that means the gun is still in the car,” Linda murmured. Then she grunted. “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have another one in his apartment.”
“Don’t borrow trouble,” Octavia said. “Let’s go clean the man’s carpet.”
They climbed out, then slid open the side door to remove a vacuum cleaner and a bucket of cleaning products, plus long rubber gloves. No need to leave behind fingerprints in case the plan went sideways. Both of them wore a long smock with a pocket large enough to conceal the tape. They carried the whole kit and kaboodle across the street, then opened the entrance to the apartment building and walked into the shabby lobby.
“You gotta love lax security,” Octavia muttered.
“Did you expect a concierge in this part of town?” Linda led the way to the elevator. “Remember, Nan said the tape is in a black and white striped cover. We have to be careful. We’re screwed if he recognizes me.”
Her sister seemed distracted and more nervous than usual. “I’ll do all the talking,” Octavia offered.
They rode to the third floor, then located apartment 3C and knocked on the door. A few minutes later, Tucker Bilson answered the door wearing only a T-shirt and tidy whities.
“Yeah?”
Octavia swallowed her revulsion. This guy made a sex tape? “Hello, sir. We’re here for our appointment to demonstrate our cleaning service.”
He frowned. “What appointment?”
“Management didn’t tell you? You’ll get a hundred dollars off your rent if you let us clean your apartment. What a deal, huh?”
He looked suspicious. “I’m not buying any cleaning supplies.”
“There’s no obligation,” she assured him. “And we’ll be in and out before you know it.”
“I don’t think so.” He started to close the door.
Octavia leaned in to stop him. “Please, sir.” She adopted a pitiful expression. “We’ll get in big trouble if you cancel the appointment. Can you help us out?”
Bilson looked them both over, then relented. “Okay but make it quick.”
They exchanged relieved looks, then pushed inside before he could change his mind. Once inside, Octavia grimaced—the man lived like a pig. She gestured to the blaring TV. “You can go about your business, sir, we’ll let you know if we need anything.”
Bilson tromped back to his easy chair and fell into it.
They set down the cleaning supplies, donned the rubber gloves, then they each took a garbage bag and began to fill them with food containers, empty cans, and other rubbish here and there, but mostly moved things and scanned for the tape. Octavia wrinkled her nose against the smell. Linda indicated she was moving to what looked like the bedroom, and Octavia let her. She only hoped they found the damn tape before they had to see the man’s bathroom.
She kept moving and scanning, opening drawers when he wasn’t looking. From the other room came muffled thumps—she assumed Linda was checking closets and dresser drawers. She noticed Bilson was watching her.
“Where’d the other girl go?”
“To your bedroom, I think?”
He frowned, then lumbered to his feet. “Hey, lady!”
Linda appeared in the doorway with the vacuum cleaner.
“You all need to stay where I can see you. And don’t try anything funny.”
“Um, okay,” Linda said. She looked at Octavia and gave a quick shake of her head.
Octavia moved to a table laden with junk and mail. She began dropping things in the trash bag just to clear a path.
“Don’t throw out my magazines,” the man yelled.
“Sorry,” Octavia said. Then her gaze landed on his chair. In the side pocket the edge of a VHS tape stuck out, in a black and white striped cover.
Bilson pointed at Linda. “Hey, don’t I know you?”
“No,” Linda squeaked.
Octavia edged toward the chair.
“Yeah,” Bilson said, shaking his finger. “Your hair is different, but you’re the woman with the dog, the one who ransacked my car.” His face reddened. “What the hell is going on here?”
Octavia dropped the trash bag and dove for the tape. When she had it, she yelled, “Run!” Linda grabbed the vacuum and they stampeded for the door.
Bilson tried to block them and wrestled Octavia for the tape. “That’s mine!”
“No, it isn’t,” Octavia said through gritted teeth, but the man was strong. Then he yelped and released his grip. Linda had whacked him with the vacuum cleaner hose. Octavia opened the door and escaped. Linda was on her heels. They lost precious time looking for the stairs, then half-ran, half-fell down them.
“I’m not letting you go with that tape!” Bilson screamed, just behind them. He’d managed to find his cut off shorts but was still barefoot.
They hit the ground running and headed for the street. Octavia glanced back to see him stop at his car.
“He’s getting the gun!” she shouted.
“No, he isn’t,” Linda said, holding up his key fob. As they ran across the street and passed a storm drain, she tossed it inside.
When she glanced back, Bilson was furiously patting his shorts pockets. After realizing his keys were gone, he bellowed, “I’m calling the police!”
They made it to the van. Linda shoved the vacuum cleaner inside, then cupped her hands around her mouth. “Go ahead, call the police and we’ll let them sort out the blackmail charges.”
Bilson raised his hand and flipped them a bird, then stomped back inside.
Octavia grinned at Linda and they high-fived. “Let’s get out of here.”
They climbed inside and Linda started the van, then pulled away. Octavia turned the tape over in her hands. “I’m sure there’s a VCR at the library… aren’t you a tiny bit interested?”
Linda scowled. “Not even.”
“You’re no fun.”
Linda wet her lips. “I know.”
Octavia frowned, sensing that Linda was struggling with something. But she knew her sister… she’d talk about it when she was ready.
They were the same that way.