At Rope's End (A Dr. James Verraday Mystery #1)(51)

“Yeah, that’s me. So what?”

“So what can you tell me about the deceased?”

“What do you mean, ‘the deceased’?”

“The young woman. Do you know what her name was?”

“Yeah. She said her name was Destiny.”

“Well, Mr. North, we have a big problem. Because you’re in this picture with her. And a few hours after it was taken, this young lady was murdered.”

“Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?” asked Cody.

“You’re not under arrest,” said Maclean. “At this point, we’re interviewing you as a witness. That means you’re not entitled to a lawyer. Unless you’d prefer that I take you into custody, which is what I’ll do in about ten seconds if you don’t stop gawking and start talking. Got it, shitbird?”

Verraday saw a flash of fury in Cody North’s eyes. Steroid rage for sure, he thought. Cody’s jaw muscles tensed and his hands curled into fists. He looked like he might leap straight at Maclean. Verraday shifted forward, calculating the mechanic’s likely trajectory and deciding that if North raised his ass out of the chair so much as an inch in Maclean’s direction, he’d take him down with a roundhouse. Then North seemed to regain his composure. Either that or the fight had gone out of him. Cody North stared at his knees for a long moment, and when he finally looked back up, he didn’t undress Maclean with his eyes. He just frowned sourly.

“So what do you want?”

“Tell me what you know about the murder victim.”

“Not a lot. She was hired to entertain guests at a bash that Jason threw to butter up potential clients for his executive jet service.”

“And what exactly did this ‘buttering up’ entail?”

“Well, she mostly just moved through the crowd, greasing the wheels, you know? It was all men. Big-deal senior executive types. She chatted them up, flirted. Touched them a lot. Danced for them.”

“What kind of dancing?”

“Well, sort of burlesque, I guess you’d call it. Jason invited the guests into that executive jet out there, pumped music through the sound system. She came through the plane dressed in that stewardess outfit and did lap dances on the guys who wanted it. There was no shortage of takers.”

“Did you have a lap dance with her?”

“Yes.”

“Any other kind of relations?”

“Why?”

“I’m asking the questions here, Mr. North, not you.”

“Okay, yeah.”

“What?”

“Right after she took that picture, she closed the cockpit door and started grinding away on my lap. Then she undid my fly, reached in, and, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” said Maclean. “Would you care to elaborate?”

“Sure, she jerked me off. Said it was orders from the flight deck. I didn’t hear any complaints from her, that’s for sure. That broad liked the attention. Just ate it up.”

“And when did she leave?”

“The party ended pretty early—for a party, that is—because we had a plane to service first thing in the morning. She left around midnight, just before the guests started to go home.”

“And what mode of transportation did she use?”

“Jason got her a car. It came right up to the hangar door.”

“Did you see her get in?”

“Yeah. Everybody saw her get in and leave. Her exit would have been pretty hard to miss. She flashed her tits out the window just as the car was pulling away.”

“Was there anybody else in the car with her?”

“Other than the driver, no. Didn’t look like it.”

“What kind of a car was it?”

“A Lincoln Town Car. White.”

“When did you leave?”

“Not long after that.”

“Did you drive home?”

“No. Jason and I were both pretty wasted, so he called a cab. We left together, and he dropped me off at my place on the way back to his condo.”

“Mr. North, have you ever been convicted of sexual assault?”

“No.”

“Charged?”

“No.”

“Any other criminal convictions?”

“No.”

Cody was now shifting uneasily in his seat. He was beginning to perspire and Verraday could see that his breathing was shallow. Maclean was getting to him.

“All right. That’s it for now. But don’t go anywhere. I’m going to check your story out. I mean go over it with a fine-tooth comb. Depending on what I find out, I may want to bring you down to the station tomorrow morning for a longer interview.”

Cody North nodded. His eyes no longer wandered up Maclean’s calves and thighs, or probed the gaps in her blouse. They had nowhere to look but down.

*

“He’s hiding something. I’m sure of it,” said Verraday as they drove north on the I-5 back toward the campus.

“I think so too,” said Maclean. “I just don’t know what yet.”

“I also think he’s on steroids. Plus he’s got a lot of the classic behaviors of a sex offender. He couldn’t stop eyeing you up. It was almost involuntary. Partly sexual, partly dominance. He only stopped after you put him in his place. And if he acts like that with an authority figure who’s looking for a murder suspect, imagine what he’s like with a woman who’s in a vulnerable position.”