Free Death Turns A Trick (Rebecca Schwartz #1) (A Rebecca Schwartz Mystery) (The Rebecca Schwartz Series) by Julie Smith

I guess I thought when she saw me she’d be so ashamed she’d, you know, give up her life of crime or something. Anyway, I meant to confront her.”
    “And did you?”
    “Well, when I got back there, she was dancing with some fat guy. I grabbed her and called her Carol, and I’m sure, I’m just sure there was a look of shock on her face. But she was a real pro,” he said bitterly.
    “She wiped it off right away and said, ‘What are you doing here?’, putting me on the defensive. I said it was obvious what she was doing and that she was coming with me. However I thought she’d react, I was wrong. She wasn’t at all contrite. She said, in a pretty snippy way, really, that she was sorry I had to find out, but it was her life and I’d better butt out.”
    “Is that all?”
    “Just about. I couldn’t believe she was serious, so I started to harangue her again, but those phony cops came in about then. It’s funny. Even after what happened, my only thought was to protect her. I backed her up against a wall so no one could see her, and she let me. The place was bedlam for a while, but then somebody recognized one of the ‘cops’ and people started laughing. Kind of nervously, you know, getting their bearings, but just glad we weren’t all going to jail. Carol must have slipped out from behind me, because the next time I saw her, she was standing with her arm around that fat guy, laughing. As if nothing had happened with me.”
    “So what did you do?”
    “I wasn’t shocked this time; I was just revolted. But I felt the same as before. I just wanted out. So I left. Somehow I still couldn’t seem to get it through my head that my sister Carol was really a prostitute. A prostitute, and a nasty little job of work at that. With no family feeling, no affection for me. Perfectly happy to parade herself with guys who weren’t fit for her to spit on right in front of her own brother. So I drove to Fort Point, parked, and tried to think. I wasn’t in shape for it, though. Remember, I was still pretty drunk. I fell asleep.
    “When I woke up, things seemed a lot more real, somehow. The blind rage was gone, and the shock. I understood the position even if I didn’t like it. My watch said one-fifteen, and I remembered you for the first time in hours. So I went to your house to apologize.”
    “Were you still drunk, Parker? Under normal circumstances, I would have been either still at the party or asleep at that hour.”
    “I know. And to answer your question, I was pretty well sobered up. I’m afraid it wasn’t the most considerate thing in the world to do. It wasn’t only that I wanted to apologize. I needed someone to talk to.”
    “What happened when you got there?”
    “Some people let me in the front gate, and I went up to your apartment and knocked. Nobody answered, so I figured you were still at Elena’s, and I certainly wasn’t going back there. I went home and went to bed.”
    “When the couple let you in, didn’t you notice a note in the mailbox?”
    “That note! What the hell is that all about?”
    “Did you see it or not?”
    “No. The man had his back against the mailboxes, holding the gate open. I couldn’t see them at all. Look here, the police won’t tell me anything. Martinez seems to think I followed Carol from Elena’s and she let me in. Then there’s something about her going downstairs to leave you a note warning you I was there. Then, according to him, I argued with her, she refused again to give up her… life-style, and I got violent and killed her. Rebecca, I’m not a violent person. You believe me, don’t you?”
    “Of course.”
    “Well, tell me what the hell is going on, then. What was Carol doing in your apartment? And why weren’t you there? And what the devil is this about a note?”
    “When those fake cops came in,” I said, “Elena figured she’d need a lawyer. So when the lights went out, she sneaked me out a back way and told me to drive home, change, and get