Who Killed Jenny Schecter Ch 14

Chapter 14 Road Trip

They met Marybeth Duffy in the hallway, coming toward them with a big china mug of coffee in her hand. "Well, well," she said, "if it isn't the No. 1 Lady Lesbian's Detective Agency. Okay, Hancock, what have you guys got?"

They all entered Marybeth's office and Lauren closed the door. "And a cheery Monday good morning to you, too, captain, my captain. We've got another murder, only we don't know if it's connected to our case or not."

"Who's dead? Everybody sit down."

They took chairs. "Max Sweeny," Lauren said.

"Sweeny, Sweeny. Oh, yes, the tranny. The one nobody liked and he-she didn't like them much, either."

"That's a little harsh," Shane said quietly.

Marybeth ignored her. "Tell me," she said to Lauren.

"We wanted to start re-interviewing everyone who was there that night. We just now discovered that Sweeny is dead, killed in a deliberate hit-and-run on the outskirts of Bakersfield six months or so after the Schecter murder. He was walking along the side of a major interstate, possibly hitchhiking, sometime after midnight, drunk and stoned, according to the autopsy results. Somebody clipped him, they think on purpose. And here's the thing. Sweeny owned a car, an old Subaru beater, and nobody can find it, it's missing. Their forensic people think it may be the car that killed her."

"She was hit by her own car?"

"Looks like it, but at high speed. It didn't roll over her or anything like that. Bakersfield just gave me the headlines, not the details. I want to go read the reports myself, but that's the conclusion they came to."

"Who'd you talk to?"

"Kent County Sheriff's Office, the lead detective on the case named Collins. Sounded like he knew his stuff. Said it was an open, active homicide case. No leads, no suspect, no known motive."

"Why didn't we know about it?"

"I don't know yet, that's one of the things I want to find out. We only had a few minutes to talk. He'd never heard anything about Schecter, so he wants to talk to us about it. And we didn't know anything about his hit-and-run, so we need to talk to him."

"Road trip," Marybeth said. "Bakersfield's what, two hours north, more or less.

"Yep. Hundred, hundred and ten miles. Two hours up, two hours back, and an overnighter."

"Yes," Marybeth said.

"Why overnight? I'm just curious, not nit-picking," Carmen asked.

"I want to walk the scene at midnight or later. See what the traffic is like. Look at it in daylight, too."

"Got it," Carmen said.

"How'd you leave it with what's his name, Collins?"

"He's got stuff to do today but goes off shift at 4, and is willing to meet then, barring an unforeseen call-out. I said my captain would call his captain, just to square everything up. Here's the number." Lauren handed a slip of paper to Marybeth.

"Okay, good. You taking Nancy Drew and Miss Marple with you?"

"You guys coming along?" Lauren turned to Shane and Carmen.

"Wouldn't miss it," Carmen said. "I'm Nancy Drew, right? And Shane's Miss Marple."

Shane had no idea who Miss Marple was, but recognized it as one of Marybeth's mock insults, and ignored it. "Uh, Chase and I have to go to a training session this afternoon, and then he's got me scheduled for a wine-and-cheese thing at one of the Sugar Shacks, 5 to 7 p.m.," Shane said.

"Save me some wine and cheese. Looks like you and me, Carmen," Lauren said.

"Roger that. Copy. Ten-four. What is it you guys say?"

"We call dibs on who drives, who rides shotgun, and don't be a wise-ass," Lauren said, laughing.

"If the comedy's over get your asses out of my office and back to work," Marybeth said.

"I got one other thing, procedural. Shane, Carmen, can you give me a minute?" Lauren held the door open for them. When they had walked down the hall to the conference room Lauren said to Marybeth, "How do you want to handle the paperwork? Up until now we were unofficial and off the books."

"Yes, I can't send you to Bakersfield to look at a homicide without some CYA for both of us. Look, here's what you do. See if Morales is willing to file a missing person's report, looking for Sweeny. Back-date it to Friday and start a file. Then from here on out we're on the record."

"Got it."

"You only found out a little while ago Sweeny's dead, correct?"

"Correct."

"Good. Make sure that's in the timeline. Sweeny missing first on Friday, discovered deceased second on Monday. If we did it the other way around the homicide team would be all over our asses."

"I know. Got it covered."

After Lauren left Marybeth wondered if she should have said something about Lauren spending the night with Carmen in a motel in Bakersfield, but couldn't figure out what she'd have said. Be good? Don't do anything I wouldn't do? Wear clean underwear?

* * *

"What's the plan?" Carmen asked when Lauren entered the conference room.

"Let's work until lunch," Lauren said, "and then we'll grab something to eat and you and I can run home to pack an overnight bag and Shane can go do her thing with Chase. I'll pick you up at your mom's about one or one-thirty and we'll head out to Bakersfield. Sound good?"

Lauren explained Marybeth's request about Carmen opening a missing persons request on Max, backdating it to Friday.

"Sure," Carmen said. "Where do I sign?"

Lauren went to get the paperwork to be filled out. When she came back Shane said, "Can I ask a question? It doesn't matter, but why does Carmen sign it, not me? Or don't I want to know?"

Lauren glanced at Carmen. "Marybeth and I think it would help to put a little distance between the Schecter case and you, on the one hand, and Max being killed in Bakersfield, on the other. Just in case."

"In case what? In case I did it? Ran him over?"

"Shane, no one thinks you did it," Carmen said quietly.

"Shane, at some point we'll need to document your whereabouts for that night, if we can. Carmen hadn't seen Max in a couple of years, had moved to San Francisco, and was probably at sea when Max was killed. It just makes everything easier this way."

"You said, 'if we can.' If we can document my whereabouts. What's that mean?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry I said it that way. All I meant was—"

"I know what you meant. I was probably out fucking somebody whose name I don't even remember and there will be no way to figure out where I was or what I was doing."

"Shane, stop this right now," Carmen said. "Nobody's saying that."

They fell silent, glaring at each other.

"Okay, somebody tell me. What am I missing?" Lauren asked.

"Go ahead, tell her," Shane said.

"No," Carmen said.

There was silence. Lauren said nothing, letting it work.

Finally Shane sighed. "I once threatened Max."

"Okay," Lauren said. "Tell me."

"It was during the fundraiser we had for Max's top surgery. Like we told you, when he was taking the steroids Max was a lunatic sometimes, he flew into rages. Anyway, we were at the party, people all around, and he started manhandling Jenny. He had her by the arm, and they were bitching at each other over something."

"What happened?"

Shane looked away.

"You can say it," Lauren said.

"He let her go just as I came up to them. Jenny walked away, and I got in Max's face."

"And?"

"I told him if he hurt Jenny I'd be the one who'd cut his tits off."

Lauren laughed and Carmen grinned.

"It's not funny," Shane said, sulking.

"Did anybody hear you threaten him?"

Shane looked away. "I don't know."

"Shane," Carmen said quietly.

"Carmen and Alice heard. Maybe Tina. But inside of two minutes everybody in the place knew I'd said it. Probably total strangers walking by on the street knew. Shane's gonna cut off Max's tits. We can give all the money back."

"Okay, this has gone on far enough," Carmen said. "Can I step in here now? First off, it was never a serious threat, nobody thought Shane was gonna do anything, it was just a figure of speech. Second, they both got over it and three days later everybody forgot about it. It has no bearing on --"

Carmen's cell phone chimed.

"It's Tina," Carmen said, reading the caller ID. "Hey, Tina, I'm putting you on speakerphone."

"Hey, everybody," Tina said. "Shane and Lauren, right? I got hold of Bette and she flipped when she heard Max was dead. You really have us curious now, and we really wanna Skype you guys and get the low-down. Trouble is tonight after work is terrible, it's ballet lessons night for Miss Anjelica and her battalion of FDAs—"

"FDAs?' Carmen asked.

"Future Divas of America," Tina said. "That's what we call them, and the parents are all DRDs, Divas Raising Divas."

"I'm sure you and Bette aren't divas," Carmen said, laughing.

"Oh, goodness, no, two laid-back, relaxed, easy-going Type B personalities like Bette and me? Perish the thought."

"Well, as it turns out, tonight is out for us, too. Lauren and I have to go to Bakersfield to talk to the police out there about Max, and Shane's got a Sugar Shack event."

"A wine-and-cheeser pussy pleaser," Shane said. "That's what Chase calls them." Everyone laughed.

"Tomorrow may be way better anyway," Carmen said, "since we'll have a lot more information to tell you by then."

"How about we call you tomorrow to set something up for tomorrow afternoon or evening?"

Carmen looked at Shane and Lauren. Shane nodded. "That'll work," Lauren said.

* * *

Lauren altered the plan when Carmen suggested she come over to Mercedes Morales' house for lunch. "Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss a meal at your mom's for anything," she said. She drove to her apartment, picked up her "go" bag, which was already 90 percent packed and ready for any eventuality, and got to Carmen's mom's house by 12:15.

"Detectiveev Hancock!" Mercedes said, giving her a big hug at the door. "I'm so sorry! We ran all out of food yesterday. You and Carmen will just have to go to Taco Bell."

"Yeah, right," Lauren said, laughing. "Come on, Carmen, I guess we'll just have to get something on the road."

"Park your butt down in a dining room chair," Carmen said from the kitchen doorway. "One chimichanga or two? Refried beans?"

Lauren groaned. "One, and half a helping of the beans. I'm driving."

"Good point," Carmen said. "No beans, mom, if we're going to be trapped in a car for a couple of hours."

"Nonsense," Mercedes said, filling Lauren's plate. "Just roll the windows down."

* * *

They were quiet leaving the barrio, and Lauren had on a radio station reporting traffic. Her police radio occasionally squawked a message, too, and when they got to the I-5 she turned both radios off.

Carmen, normally talkative and friendly, stared out the window.

"I think it's my turn to ask," Lauren said. "Is something on your mind?"

"Uh, no."

"Come on, don't kid a kidder."

"It's nothing. Really," Carmen said.

"Uh-huh."

"I just had the idea ... way back when ... you and Shane ... ."

"Oh," Lauren said. Half a mile later, she said, "There was. Shane and me."

"It's none of my business," Carmen said. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"I don't mind," Lauren said. "Since we're being honest with each other. And like you say, it's ancient history. It was a week or ten days after Harvey's funeral. I made a total fool of myself, and was very unprofessional into the bargain." Then she got quiet.

"Oh, no," Carmen said. "No, no, no, you can't leave me there. C'mon."

Lauren laughed. "Yeah, I guess I have to tell it. Well, I was attracted to Shane, you know? She had this ... thing. Guess I don't have to tell you. But of course she was grieving and distraught, and all, but I liked her. I liked how she pulled herself together that night. And I only had known her for an hour, you know, under the worst of all possible circumstances. She had dropped a lot of the punk and andro you said she was in, she didn't look too different than she does now. And I didn't know how old she was. I didn't think about it, just automatically assumed she was twenty-one, I have no idea why. Anyway, I had expected never to see her again after that night, you know? But I couldn't get her out of my head."

"She does that to you," Carmen said quietly. She closed her eyes and rested her head back against the headrest. "So what happened?"

"I just couldn't stop thinking about her. Part of it was concern and, you know, sympathy for her loss, and all. There was this poor girl, now all alone. I could tell Harvey was special, this father figure, as you called him, and so it was like this young woman who had no mother and now her father had died. This poor orphan girl thing. So there was all that. And then I was attracted to her, too."

"Were you out of the closet then?"

"Yeah, pretty much. My family knew, my training officer knew, most of the cops in my precinct knew. It wasn't so much a question of being out as much as it was I was shy and inexperienced. I'd only ever been with a few other girls, and I had no fucking idea how to date or how to socialize with other lesbians, you know? I wasn't into the scene, or Gay Pride, or anything like that. And when you're a cop you tend to hang out with other cops, whether you're straight or not, because you always want to be one of the guys, one of the group. Cops have this big bonding thing, especially with your partner. And Larry was a good guy, married, and his wife was cool, and she was actually very happy I was gay because it meant I was no threat to bang her husband. That's always a real problem with male-female cop partnerships, so if one of the partners is gay, then the risk is practically eliminated, you know? Long story short, there I am, age 26, not too far from being a virgin, and I've got this schoolgirl crush on this girl I'd met on the job, which is supposedly a really big no-no, very unprofessional behavior in law enforcement, which is a joke because cops do it all the time. So anyway, one day I'm off duty I drive out to Harvey's house to see if she's okay. Just check up on her, and, you know, talk. Give her a shoulder to cry on, if she needs it. Be there for her."

"Sure."

"Yeah, right. Well, that's what I told myself, anyway. Had this big rationale all built up inside my head, sympathetic older sister, somebody to help her grieving, blah blah. So she's not home yet, so I wait around for her to get home--"

"You staked out her house?"

"Well ... yeah."

Carmen laughed. "Oh, cool. You stalked her."

"Yeah, I had the hots for her. No doubt about it. And of course I'm rationalizing the shit out of it to myself."

"I'm not laughing at you, I'm-- okay, I am laughing at you, but I also know what you mean. I've been there, done that, got the T-shirt, souvenir mug, stadium cushion with the team logo. Sorry I interrupted just as it's getting good."

"So in a little while she comes home and pulls into the driveway, and I screw up my courage and go knock on the door, and it's horrible, I'm tongue-tied, hemming and hawing and practically kicking my toe in the dirt. It was, like, the ninth grade crush from Hell." They both laughed.

"And of course Shane knows exactly what's going on, because her intuition is off the charts."

"Oh, yeah, she knew. And the thing is, she made it easy for me. I ask her if she wants to go get a drink, and she says it's not a good idea because I'm a cop and she's only twenty, and I feel like this complete, total idiot, not to mention child abuser because she's not even old enough for a fucking beer, but then she says she'd like a cup of coffee and some dinner. And in the car I'm babbling and she stops me and leans over and kisses me, nothing special, just a nice kiss on the lips. And all of a sudden everything's fine and it's like a storm has passed and the sun has come out. She's got me all calmed down and sane and not crazy any more—"

"She can do that," Carmen nodded. "She has powers."

"I bet. So now I'm practically in love with her three minutes after I talk to her, and we go get dinner, and we come back and we go swimming in Harvey's pool--"

"Oh, Christ," Carmen laughed. "Shane loves pool fucking. She's probably fucked more times in the water than Shamu. She's fucked in Tina and Betty's pool, she's fucked in the ocean, she's fucked in mountain streams when we went camping. She'd fuck in a rain barrel if there was room for two. The time she cheated on me she fucked Cherie Jaffe in her pool in Malibu. Maybe it's the chlorine, I think it has this incredible aphrodisiac effect on Shane."

"Guess so," Lauren laughed. "So anyway, we fuck in the pool, and then we switch to the hot tub, and we cum again up against the jets, and then we go inside, and make love, and in the morning we do it again in the shower. In one night and the next morning I've practically doubled my entire sexual history, and it was great. Best sex I ever had."

"So she rocks your world, and it's mind-blowingly terrific, and two days later it's like she can hardly remember your name or who you are," Carmen said quietly.

"Yeah. But in my case it was two weeks. I was on a swing shift rotation, and didn't really have a chance to call her or ask for a second date right away. So two weeks later I finally get a night off and I call, and I leave a message on her answering machine at Harvey's house, and she never calls back. And I try two weeks later, and same thing. So basically, I never hear from her again and she doesn't return my calls."

"Because she doesn't do relationships," Carmen said. "No repeats, very few sleepovers, and you should be flattered, she made an exception in your case, you got a whole night and some morning fucking. It's wham, bam, thank you, ma'am. That's how's she's managed to rack up a thousand sex partners."

Lauren drove for a while. "So how'd you break through?"

"I didn't take no for an answer. To me it felt like love at first sight, which I know sounds really stupid and juvenile and all, but that's how I felt. Kind of like you, from the sound of it. From the moment I first set eyes on her she took my breath away, and I felt this connection, this ... almost spiritual thing. And I just always held onto that. I knew she was damaged, broken. It was like these stories you hear, about some woman in love with this horndog bad boy, and the more he treats her like shit, the more she's in love with him. It's that whole Bad Boy scenario, only the surprise was it happens with lesbians as well as straight women. Why do we fall in love with Bad Boys? I still have no fucking idea. It's some kind of pathology. I've read all the magazine articles, but to this day I still don't understand it. I'm practically the poster girl for Bad Boy Survivors, and I still don't have a clue."

"I'm no help," Lauren said. "I never understood the Bad Boy thing, either." They rode for a block. "So, is there anybody in your life now?"

"No, not really. There was this school teacher down in San Diego. I thought for a while maybe something was happening, but now I don't think so."

"Was it serious?"

"Hell if I know," Carmen said. "Six months ago, I might have said yes, or at least maybe. We have major schedule conflicts, she's a couple hundred miles away, and she won't come out of the closet."

"I'm sorry," Lauren said again.

"Yeah, there's days when I begin to think maybe I'm snake-bit. I get by, because I have a couple of casual fuck buddies. There's this woman I know on one of the cruise ships, and when we sail together sometimes we hook up, but it's just fun and sex and companionship, it's not love, and we're both comfortable with it. And I know this woman in San Francisco, but it's the same thing. Sex and fun but no romance, not until my next Princess Charming comes along."

"Or until Shane comes back."

"Shane's not coming back, Lauren, you have my word on that. No fucking way she gets back inside my head or my pants. Not happening. No go. De nada. No way, José." They rode in silence for a while. "So what about you?" Carmen asked. "You got somebody in your life?"