Secrets and Charms(48)
“Nick’s just called—he’s at the loading dock and wants to talk to you,” Jem announced.
“I can’t right now.” Olly hefted the crate of frozen peas he was holding.
Jem didn’t relent. “Take ten. Nick says if you don’t, he’ll come in and drag you out by your ear.”
Olly groaned in defeat, shoved the crate at Jem and headed for the loading dock. He briefly played with the idea of making a run for it, but it was an idle thought. Nick would catch him, no doubt, and then he’d be in a heap of trouble. A bigger heap.
Nick waited for Olly with his serious cop-face on. “What the hell did you get yourself into?” He jabbed his index finger at Olly’s chest. “When Cooper called me yesterday asking me about you, I was up to my neck in my own case. But then this afternoon I had business in Glendale, so I stopped by the station to talk to Cooper. And what do I find out? You are a suspect in a murder case.”
“I am?” Olly didn’t know how to feel about it.
“Not the only one, but your name hasn’t been ruled out either. Your friend’s another one.”
Olly shook his head. “No way Rich bashed the guy’s head in.”
Nick clapped Olly on the shoulder. “How do you know the victim died from a head trauma?”
“Uh, it was on the news?” Olly ventured.
“The cause of death wasn’t made public. However, one of the neighbors, the one who saw you two, thought she heard a gunshot, and she told the reporters about it.”
Olly bit his lip. His face was on fire, and he was unable to meet Nick’s eyes.
Nick’s grip on Olly’s shoulder tightened to the point of painful. “I swear to God, if you don’t tell me the truth right now, I’m going to haul you off to the station.”
Olly knew resistance was futile. He glanced worriedly toward the door. “Someone could come out any minute.”
“My car.” Nick jerked his head toward the Crown Vic parked in the red zone of the curb. “Okay, everything, from the beginning, and don’t leave a damn thing out,” he added once they sat in the car.
And Olly spilled the beans. He started with the blackmail, but Nick already knew everything he’d confessed to Detective Cooper, so he skipped ahead to what Rich had told him about going back to Kane’s house. “He promised to go to the police and tell Detective Cooper everything,” Olly said at the end. “I really need to get back inside. My break was over five minutes ago. Roger will have a fit.”
Nick wasn’t touched. “Does Roger have handcuffs? Because I do.”
Olly didn’t even dream of countering with a clever quip. “I told you everything. Really!”
“Rich said the safe was open and there was a stack of envelopes on the desk?” Nick asked.
“Yes. He took only one. And the photo from the kitchen, but he forgot about that until later. Why? Weren’t they there when the cops arrived?” Nick’s frown made Olly think they weren’t, but it didn’t seem like Nick was going to answer. So Olly tried a different approach. “Who found the body?”
“Somebody called it in. Anonymous tip,” Nick said reluctantly.
“Weird. You don’t think Rich did?”
Nick answered with a question. “Is he at his sister’s house now?”
“I don’t know. He was going to move in the furniture, but he could be done by now. Are you going to arrest him?” When Nick didn’t reply, he asked, “Can I go?”
“Yes. Keep your nose clean, and call me the moment you hear from your friend. We’ll talk again later.”
Olly scrambled out of the car and rushed back inside. He was so not looking forward to another talk.
Olly spent the last hour of his shift at the twelve-items-or-less register and had a hell of a time trying to be cheerful to the customers. They didn’t make it easy either. One guy brought a loaded basket and kept yakking on his phone while Olly handled all twenty-seven of his items. An old lady decided she didn’t want half of hers after Olly rang them up, and then proceeded to pay with a check. Which she wrote out sloooowly. When a blonde woman got into a fight with her equally blonde teenage daughter right in front of him, Olly was ready to throw in the towel.
Mother and daughter were so much alike, Olly would’ve taken them for sisters if it wasn’t for the younger one’s nasal whine of “But, Mom!” As far as Olly could tell, their quarrel had to do with Justin Bieber. The mom said something along the lines of It would be a cold day in hell before I let my daughter go to a concert of that squeaky-voiced delinquent. Olly sympathized with mom and would’ve loved to say so, but it would’ve been against store policy to get involved. The daughter pouted. As he watched them walk away, the sight of their blonde heads dislodged his mental block. He almost blurted out fucking hell! in front of the next customer.