CHAPTER SIX

Detective III Lena Ramirez could have wished for a better start in her new role as Chief Investigator of the Major Crimes Homicide Division. She didn't mind handling murder cases, at least, not any more than any other police officer minded seeing violent crime scenes for a living, but she hated when those crimes took place in the wealthier neighborhoods. She'd had exactly one murder case in a wealthy neighborhood before now, six years ago when she was still Detective I. A real estate mogul screwing his nanny on the side found out said nanny was pregnant and decided he might as well have her killed instead of any number of other ways he could have handled it.

The case was straightforward enough, but the department acted like it was anything but. Everything Lena did was scrutinized, second-guessed, countermanded, picked apart and handed back to her with the vague instruction to "look closer."

She understood why. When you were dealing with wealthy people, you were dealing with expensive lawyers, and that meant lawsuits and appeals and smear campaigns and general warfare between the department and the lovely one-tenth-of-one-percenters of the various ritzy enclaves of the City of Fallen Angels. It was critical that LAPD dot every i, cross every t, and punctuate every sentence or else murderers got to go home to their jacuzzis and toast their escape with bottles of champagne that cost as much as some cars.

She still hated it. Part of her wanted to let Harris handle the investigation, but if she gave into that urge, she'd end up a desk jockey like Punto, and that wasn't a life she wanted.

So, she was here, investigating the murder of nineteen-year-old Lila Kensington, daughter of former C-list horror actress Clara Kensington nee Summers and tech darling and city council hopeful Julian Kensington.

At least it wasn't a hair short of a hundred twenty degrees outside.

She stepped out of the car and walked toward the house. Harris was already there along with four uniforms, and she allowed herself a moment of irritation that she hadn't just stayed at the office after all.

He looked at her and nodded in that affected devil-may-care attitude that for a brief minute at the start of her detective career had attracted her to him. Now it just annoyed her.

Hell, everything annoyed her right now. Screw this goddamned heat.

It didn't help her mood at all that Harris looked cool as a cucumber. Detective II Damien Harris was one of those rare creatures who could wear a pair of khakis, a white long-sleeve, and a woolen blazer in every kind of weather and never appear uncomfortable.

"Body's still in the pool," Harris said. "Uniforms are taking pictures. I've instructed them not to touch anything."

"But they're stomping all over everything. What about footprints?"

"They're dusting for prints too. Foot, finger and palm. Come on, Lena, give me some credit."

"Who called it in?"

"Christ, good morning to you too."

"Not in the mood, Damien. Who called it in?"

"Pool boy. Said he came over to retrieve a piece of equipment he forgot yesterday. Hopped the fence to the pool and found the body."

She lifted an eyebrow. "That's not suspicious at all."

"That's what I thought. Although he did admit it right away, so I"m allowing for the slim possibility that he"s just a moron and not a killer. The kid was sweating like a drunk hippopotamus, but that could just be the heat."

"Where is he right now?"

"He's around the corner just outside the fence door. Vince and Morales are with him."

"Got it. You keep handling the scene. Go ahead and call CSI. I'm going to talk to the kid. What's his name?"

"Nathan Harlow. Goes by Nate. Also nineteen. Just got a job with Best Pool Cleaners handling their clients here in Autumn Downs."

"And that's also suspicious. Good-looking kid?"

"Go see for yourself."

Lena thought of snapping at him to answer her but decided against it. It was only the heat that was making her so bitchy.

She walked around the house and offered a silent prayer of thanks that this had taken place in the flats and not the hills. If she'd had to walk up and down a damned mountain to talk to this kid, she might have just tossed her badge in her car and walked home instead.

The kid was, as Harris had promised, with Vince and Morales. He sat against the fence, shaking slightly. Lena felt a touch of sympathy. Seeing a dead body wasn't fun, especially if it wasn't something you were used to.

Her sympathy disappeared as soon as it landed. For all she knew, he could be the reason there was a dead body.

"I'll take it from here, boys," she told the uniforms.

"Kid says he got here around ten-thirty," Vince offered. "Says he had to hop the fence to get a pool vacuum."

"Yes, thank you," Lena said patiently. "I'll take it from here."

Vince frowned, clearly unhappy that she didn't shower praise on him for discovering that deep and groundbreaking piece of evidence. He joined Morales, and the two of them walked away.

Lena took a moment to size Nathan Harlow up. He was indeed a good-looking kid, tall, tanned and strong. He had wispy blonde hair and bright blue eyes above a face that should have earned him a job as the next teen heartthrob and not a guy who actually cleaned pools.

At the moment, that face was wide-eyed with shock. Lena decided that his shock was genuine.

Didn't mean he was innocent.

"Nathan, right?"

The kid nodded.

"I'm detective Lena Ramirez. Mind if I talk to you a little bit?"

He nodded again. She flashed her best smile and said, "You're going to have to use words if you talk to me, though. I don't do well at guessing faces."

That was a lie, of course. Guessing faces was her job.

"Yes, you can talk to me."

Cute voice too.

"So Nathan, tell me what happened."

"I already told the other two what happened."

"So tell me."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He was indeed sweating profusely, and Lena doubted it was all to do with the heat.

"I showed up to the house and knocked on the door, but no one was home."

"Why were you here?"

"I needed to get the vacuum."

"The one you forgot yesterday, right?"

"Yeah. I needed to get it back, so I knocked on the door. When no one answered, I decided to just go into…" he stopped and looked shrewdly up at Lena.

"I'm not going to arrest you for hopping the fence for a vacuum cleaner," Lena said. "Bigger fish to fry. On the other hand, you start keeping things from me, I start wondering if there's something I should arrest you for. Get what I'm saying?"

Nate nodded. "Yeah. So I decided to hop the fence. I really need that vacuum. Best Pool Cleaners will fire me if I lose their equipment, and I really need this job."

"Not to be a bitch," she interrupted, "but I don't care about your job right now. Tell me what you saw when you hopped the fence."

He swallowed. "I saw that." He hooked his head toward the open gate of the yard where uniforms were still milling around, hopefully not obliterating her crime scene.

"You have to tell me what that is," Lena said firmly but gently. "I need to know exactly what you saw."

He sighed. "She was in the pool in her underwear and her t-shirt. She was floating face down, and I could tell that she was… that she'd been in there like that for a while."

"Anything seem out of place?"

"You mean other than the fucking body in the pool?"

She squatted down so she was at eye level with him. He didn't like that and turned his head away to avoid eye contact. She noted that and said, "Hey, Nate? I get that this is a tough thing to talk about. I also get that I'm not the cuddliest person alive, but I need you to put on some big boy pants and talk to me, okay? We need to figure out what happened here, and you need us to figure out what happened here, because at the moment, I have a dead girl your age wearing next to nothing and no one in the house but you."

"I wasn't here when she died!" he exploded.

"Okay," she said calmly, lifting her hands placatingly. "I'm just telling you what I walked up on. I'm talking to you because I want to know what I didn't see. So, was there anything out of place?"

Nate shook his head. "No. Not that I could tell. Everything was where I left it yesterday. Even the vacuum." His brow furrowed. "That's odd."

"What's odd?"

"Well…" he hesitated a moment but this time Lena didn't have to subtly threaten him to get him to talk again. "Clara told me that they were going to have friends over last night. She wanted the pool cleaned so they could all use it. But there's no sign that they used it. I mean, I would say that they cleaned it after the party or had a servant clean it or something, but the vacuum was right where I left it too."

"You think she lied to you about her plans?"

He hesitated, but his eyes told Lena that's exactly what he thought. Or at least, what he wanted her to think he thought. "I mean, I told her that she had to wait twenty-four hours before using the pool, so maybe they moved the party."

"Hmm. Maybe. How well did you know Lila?"

"I didn't know her at all. I just cleaned their pool yesterday."

"Did you talk to her?"

"Yeah, for like, thirty seconds."

"What did you guys talk about?"

Nate's eyes narrowed before he spoke, but Lena didn't call him out on it this time. The kid obviously wasn't telling her everything, but he was too on edge to push right now.

"Nothing. She just said hi. I was about to leave, so we didn't talk much. That's all."

"Did you like her?"

"I didn't fucking know her!"

"Okay," Lena said calmly. "I just mean, did you think she was cute?"

"Cute?"

"Pretty. Hot. Sexy. Attractive."

He flared up. "You think I had something to do with this?"

"I think you're not answering my—"

"Yes. Okay? She was hot. But I didn't think of her like that." Lena lifted an eyebrow, and he explained, "I mean, I didn't… I…" he sighed. "Look, these are rich people. I'm not rich. It doesn't matter if she dropped to her knees and begged me to screw her, I'm not looking for that kind of trouble."

"Did she beg you to screw her?"

"No! For God's sake, she just said hi! I said hi, then I said bye. That's it."

Lena held his gaze just long enough to make him feel uncomfortable, then nodded. "Okay."

She stood and said, "My partner got your number. Keep your phone on. I might have some more questions later. Do yourself a favor, kid. Don't leave your shit behind from now on."

"Oh, trust me. I won't."

He got up and half-jogged away. Lena allowed him to walk about ten yards, then called, "Your vacuum."

He swore and rushed back for the vacuum, then stomped away again. Lena watched as he loaded it into the back of a Ford Transit van, then got in the driver's seat and sped off.

Harris walked up to her and asked, "How'd it go?"

"Not a bad first talk. I'll fill you in on the details. Have the parents been called yet?"

"Not yet. CSI wants to take a look first."

"Call them. I want to see how they act around CSI."

"You got it, boss."

Lena looked back toward the street. The van was gone now. She thought back to her talk with Nate and wondered just what it was he wasn't saying. She decided she would have to pay him a visit later and figure out exactly what he was trying to hide.

I look forward to getting to know you better, Mr. Harlow.