Chapter 1-2
846 Words
Ronald Epstein appeared to spend a lot of time in Chad Storm’s home, for he had no trouble making himself at home. He went behind a counter, extracted a rather large bottle of some type of booze, and poured himself a glass over ice. Jack blinked. It was a tall water glass.
“Want a drink?” Epstein asked.
“No, thank you.”
Storm had disappeared farther into the dimly lit large beachside house declaring he needed to lie down.
Jack sat on an oversized leather sofa. “What’s up with Storm?”
“Up with him?”
“Well, he seems a bit out of it.” Jack opened his notebook. He cleared his throat. “Sort of delicate.”
Epstein came out from behind the counter and sat in a chair that matched the sofa. “He’s had some issues. Got some bad acid when he was much younger. Nearly died.”
“Is there good acid?”
Epstein shrugged. “Anyway, he got off the drugs years ago but he sees some professionals. How do you suppose he ought to act after finding the dead body of his lover, lieutenant?”
“Ex-lover, right?”
“Yes, but Mark only ended things a short time ago.”
Jack made a notation. “What is your relationship to Mr. Storm?”
Epstein took a long swallow of his drink. “I was the manager for Lightning.”
“And nothing more personal?”
The older man sneered. “We are not nor have we ever been lovers, lieutenant. We are both gay, but we are friends only. Our shared homosexuality has brought us closer as friends as we have faced some of the same experiences. Straight people and their assumptions.” He sniffed.
Speaking of assumptions, Jack sighed. “I’m not.”
“Not what?”
“Straight,” Jack said simply. “Now, if we can get back to the murder of Mark Walters.”
Epstein eyed him a little differently Jack noted. He lowered his glass of booze and surveyed Jack. “How is that in your line of work?”
“Hmm?”
“Being gay and a cop. Isn’t that still a rather macho world?”
“Mr. Epstein, was Mark in the band?”
“No. Mark was a charming man, but he had no musical talent. He had a head for numbers. He’s a…was a financial advisor.”
“How about you and Mr. Walters?”
Epstein gave him a hard look. “Are you actually asking if I slept with my dear friend, Chad’s boyfriend?”
“Yes. Did you?”
“He was more than twenty years younger than me,” Epstein said, taking another drink from his glass.
Jack wrote evasive answers in his notebook.
“What are you writing?”
“Just notes about the case. You did have an affair with Mark Walters, didn’t you?”
Epstein shifted, crossed one leg over the other. “It was a long time ago. Ten years ago. Mark and I both had too much to drink and lost our heads. It never happened again.”
“Does Chad know?”
“I never told him and I don’t think Mark did either.”
Jack nodded. “When did you last see Mark Walters alive?”
“Night before last,” Epstein said. “I was over here discussing Chad’s comeback that night. We had dinner. Mark was in and out of the house, getting ready to leave, I guess. To be honest, I didn’t watch him or anything, I just sort of noticed him in the background.”
“Lightning’s making a comeback?”
“No, just Chad. He’s already been in the studio and recorded a couple of songs.” Epstein finished his drink. “How did Mark die?”
“Stabbed. And what time did you leave the house, Ron?”
He shrugged. “Must have been somewhere around one in the morning. I hadn’t seen Mark for a while before I left though.”
Al Ramirez came into the room at that time. “I’m done questioning the maid, lieutenant. The crime scene folks are done, too.”
Jack rose. “All right. One more question, Ron.”
Epstein smirked. “I spent all day at the Huntington Library admiring the artwork and gardens with Henry, my partner. It’s a favorite place of his. After that we returned home and never left again until Chad left me a message about finding Mark.”
“Do me a favor and—”
“And don’t leave town,” Epstein finished for him. He smiled. “I watch crime shows, lieutenant.”
Swell.
“Thank you for your cooperation,” he said blandly and dragged Al toward the front door. When they were outside, he said, “I’m coming back here in the morning.”
“For?”
“More questions for Chad Storm. He had some sort of breakdown and asked to lie down.”
Al raised an eyebrow as they approached his four-door sedan. He clicked the electronic clock. “Think he faked it?”
“Who knows? But if he thinks it’s going to get him out of some tough questions he’s wrong. What did you learn from the maid?”
“She thinks some maniac killed Walters.” He got into the driver side and waited until Jack got into the passenger seat and clicked his seat belt before he started the car. “As in some stranger. Probably a serial killer I guess.”
“Well, whoever did kill him was definitely filled with a lot of rage. I lost count on the stab wounds.”
“I’m scheduled to be off tomorrow, you want me to change it?”
“Nah. Who’s in?”
“Teddy.”
“Good. Make sure you leave notes for him and have him check with the medical examiner.”
“You want him to go with you when you question Chad Storm?”
“No, he can start questioning some of the others who knew Walters. And track down whoever he was leaving Storm for.”
“Oh.” Al nodded. “So they were a couple?”
“Apparently. And they only broke up a short time ago when Storm found Walters’s plane ticket out of here.”
“Ouch.”
Jack grimaced and looked out at the window. He’d had his share of broken relationships. Some were more painful than others. But was a breakup good enough to kill? And with such force? Was Storm capable of that? Could be. His stomach growled.
What the hell time is it anyway?
“I’m hungry. Are you hungry?”
“I could eat,” Al said.
“Great, let’s find a diner.”
- Writer
