Chapter 8

K ate stopped at Reese's desk and asked, "Can you pull all the files relating to the deaths of the two prior husbands of Amie Mulhouse? I'll need all the available details surrounding those deaths."

"Two husbands?"

"A third one just passed, supposedly a suicide, but it wasn't," she added, with a nod.

Reese's eyebrows shot up, and she nodded. "I'll have that for you soon."

Kate returned to her desk to find Lilliana standing off to the side, talking to Rodney.

Lilliana looked up and muttered, "Amie's really a piece of work."

"Yeah, a piece of work she is," Kate confirmed, "but how much of her story did you believe?"

"Not a lot," she admitted, "although I'm not sure she killed him—her latest husband, that is. Definitely a hint of reality or truthfulness to her statements in there."

At that, Kate nodded. "I know, but definitely something more is going on, and she's not what you would call a cooperative witness."

"No, and you sure got her goat." Lilliana laughed. "I could see how much she really hoped this guy would be in there." She nudged Rodney's chair .

"Oh, yeah, Amie would have led him all over the place," Kate noted.

"Only if I allowed it," Rodney replied stiffly, glaring at her. "And obviously now I would not."

"Good to know," Kate said in a teasing voice. "But, if she's cleared for murder on this one, don't ask her out, considering you could end up as dead husband number four."

"Besides, she already has at least one boyfriend lined up," Lilliana pointed out.

"Exactly," Kate agreed, "but I do feel somebody needs to warn Nate though."

Lilliana shook her head. "Chances are Nate's too far gone to believe anything we say."

Rodney looked over at Kate and asked her, "You really think Amie had something to do with all these deaths?"

"I'm not sure what to believe yet," she clarified, "but what I can tell you is that she's a very uncooperative witness and that she's lied since the first moment we arrived at her place. She also protested her innocence in the previous deaths of husbands number one and two." She looked over at Lilliana. "How is your workload?"

"It's holding," she replied, "and, of course, the minute I say that, things will blow up."

"I know, right?"

"Why? Do you need help?" Lilliana asked her.

"It's not so much that I need help," Kate acknowledged, "but I'm just thinking about opening an investigation into the deaths of her other husbands."

Lilliana warned her of the obvious, though it wasn't as if she didn't know. "That's pretty serious if you do."

"I know, but how can I not at least take a look at them? Once I get those files…"

"Is Reese pulling them for you?" Lilliana asked.

"She is."

Just then a shout came from the other side of the bullpen, as Colby had heard part of that.

Kate walked over to his doorway and asked him in amusement, "Did that shout have something to do with me?"

He grinned at her. "Maybe. What trouble are you into this time?"

"Me?" She glared. "Why am I always in trouble?"

"I don't know," he said. "I've been asking myself that since you started here."

"It's this latest case," she muttered and then quickly explained why she brought Lilliana in on it.

"That's a good call," Colby noted, "but you can't be too hard on Rodney. That guy is a soft touch."

"How does anybody stay a soft touch in this business?" she wondered out loud.

Colby laughed. "We don't have much in the way of innocence anymore," he admitted, "but let's give us a little bit of credit when we do feel empathy. Keep me informed if anything else happens." And he took a moment to stare her directly in the eye. "You really think she's good for the husband?"

"I don't know whether she's good for any of her husbands or not, but she's definitely a liar and a cheat."

"Which will never be good in your book," Colby stated. "Got it."

She shrugged. "I'm not a prude or anything, but she had a boyfriend lined up and already in the house when I got there to ask some questions. "

"Yeah, definitely suspicious, isn't it?"

"Not my favorite people, for sure," she murmured. "Yet again, that's just the way of the world, isn't it?"

"Doesn't have to be," he pointed out, "and don't take any of that as being the way all of the world functions."

"Are you sure?" she asked, with a wry look in his direction. "It sure seems as if a lot of the world is exactly that shitty."

"Yes, but it doesn't have to stay that way," he muttered. "Anyway, keep me informed." He waved her off. His phone rang just then, so it was a good time to leave anyway.

As she walked out, the others looked at her with raised eyebrows. She shrugged. "Just wants to be kept informed."

At that, Lilliana laughed. " Of course . You do know that if it was any of us though—"

"Any of us what?" Kate looked to Lilliana for clarity.

"We would all be in shit for something," she replied smoothly.

"I'm always in shit," Rodney declared, and he glared at Kate.

"Like hell you guys are," Kate argued, staring from one to the other.

"Where the hell is that coming from?" Rodney asked, sounding offended. "And here I thought we were just starting to get along."

"We are," Kate noted. "It's been good. Let's keep it that way. And, Rodney… you just need to stay away from the female suspects."

He snorted. "Do you want me to question the boyfriend before he has a chance to be primed by her?"

"Amie was heading somewhere else right now," Lilliana said .

"That doesn't mean Amie didn't phone Nate," Kate added, "so let's call him right now." Then Kate quickly called the boyfriend. When he answered, he was cautious. "Have you spoken to Amie this morning?" she asked bluntly. When he hesitated, she knew the next words out of his mouth wouldn't be the truth. "And of course if we check and find out you're lying…"

"We spoke earlier for just a moment. She told me that she wanted to see me later this afternoon, but she had an appointment first. She sounded pretty frantic, and, more to the point… she also told me not to talk to you."

"Amie doesn't have the right to decide that," Kate replied smoothly. "I get that she's not very happy with me right now because we're looking into the cases of her previous dead husbands as well." When only shocked silence came on the other end, she asked, "Oh, did you not know that this is her third dead husband?"

"Jesus. What?"

"Yes," Kate replied, with a hint of sorrow. "So, before you get too involved with this woman, you might want to take another look at whether you're prepared to risk becoming dead husband number four."

"That's not fair. She's really sweet."

"I'm sure she is, especially toward the men in her life, the same way I'm sure that every one of the men who married her would have said the exact same thing."

More shock came on the other end. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"I don't know if she had anything to do with any of her husbands' deaths," Kate clarified, "but I do know that, when you get this many dead husbands around a single woman, we definitely have an issue. So, what you do with Amie is up to you, but I would really hate to find myself standing over your body next."

She asked him a few more questions and then disconnected, leaving him to stew, but getting him to promise that he would call Kate if he thought of anything that was pertinent to the case. Then Kate pulled out the file that Reese had compiled on the previous dead husbands and sat down to read it. In the meantime, Lilliana left, and Owen arrived. Andy was still out on extended medical leave and had yet to be replaced, although there was still talk about doing just that. Rodney got up soon and left, with Kate sitting here, still reading.

When Rodney came back after lunch, he frowned at her. "You haven't even moved."

"Fascinating reading," she muttered, with a mock smile, "but unfortunately, in both prior deaths, the files are a little on the thin side."

"So, what took you so long to read them then?" he joked.

"Reading between the lines as much as anything."

"What do you mean?"

"There were a lot of accusations with the suicide death of her first husband, but nothing ever came of it. The family was pretty irate, as they were damn sure he would never have committed suicide."

"Interesting," Rodney murmured.

"Yeah, interesting is right." Kate continued writing down notes, names, addresses, and questions that she wanted to ask.

Rodney watched her work, then asked, "So, are you really pissed at me?"

Surprised, she lifted her head and gave it a shake. "No, not at all. Why?" He frowned, and she realized she had to put his mind at ease. "I figured you weren't the best person to come into that Amie interview with me. She's uncooperative enough without being distracted by thinking she could play up to you."

"But still… maybe it would have worked out better if she could have. We might have gotten something out of her."

"I don't think so. She probably would have just ended up hating you at the end of the day, but this way she gets to remember the nice cop," Kate added, with a laugh.

"It doesn't bother you that you're not seen as a nice cop?"

"No," she declared. "I would just as soon not be the nice cop. I find it much easier for me."

"But you're not that much of a bitch."

She looked at him and then laughed. "Glad to hear it," she replied, with a grin on her face. "But when it comes to these assholes out there, I really would rather be the bitch. That may not make a whole lot of sense to you nice guys, but I really don't want any of these jerks taking advantage of their supposed spouses."

"And yet Amie's not overly happy with Robert's death, and nothing indicates she did the deed either," he reminded her.

"I know," she admitted, then added, "but what are the chances that she hasn't had anything to do with all three of them?"

*

Simon stared up at the Paragon building for the second morning in a row, as he found himself automatically walking toward it, which was driving him nuts. Even from a block away it towered majestically, even though it was dwarfed by other new high-rises. Still, something about this one building gave it presence. Simon gave a happy sigh as he realized that it was possible that this building could be his. As he turned around the corner heading up the block, he groaned when he saw Ariel, the irritatingly pushy real estate agent, standing outside the entrance.

She saw him and beamed. "Look at that," she crowed. "I knew you would be back."

"Maybe. What's that got to do with you?"

She glared at him. "You would get along better in this business if you were nicer." She fluffed at her hair, as he backed up a few steps and shook his head.

"Business and being nice don't necessarily have to go together."

She groaned. "In your case I've never known you to be anything other than prickly."

"That's not true," he stated in a firm tone. "I've done several deals with you, and clearly I don't have to be your best friend for that to happen."

She shook her head. "It would be easier if you used me exclusively as your realtor."

"As you already know, I don't use anybody exclusively," he declared, "and I have my own realtor."

"One I've hardly dealt with," she snapped, "so your realtor could be just me."

"Could be, but why would I do that?" he asked, eyeing her curiously. "What's in that for me?"

"Why not?" she retorted, raising her hands. "I make life easy for people."

He half smiled. "There really isn't any way to make life easy in my world," he stated. "It's a very busy and chaotic space."

"Sure, and that's why you need somebody to keep an eye on these properties for you."

"So, you're telling me that you don't already do that?"

She flushed. "Of course, but I could do so much more."

He just gave her a nonplussed look. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied slyly. "As it is, maybe I'm waiting for a client."

He shook his head. "Nope, you're not."

She stared at him. "How would you know?"

He laughed. "Nobody else wants this place."

"You don't know that," she replied, giving him a crafty look. "You don't know anything about the interest I have generated for this place. Of course, if I were your exclusive realtor, then I could potentially help you with that."

"Would that not also cross some lines of ethics in your world?"

She shook her head. "No, of course not. I would ensure it was all aboveboard. Obviously that's important to you."

He sighed. "It should be important to you too."

"I didn't say it wasn't," she protested. "Don't go putting words in my mouth."

He shook his head at that. "Yet you appear to be putting words in my mouth. I'm not ready to deal exclusively with one realtor, which I have told you multiple times, so stop hassling me about it."

"Okay, fine," she muttered. "I'm not hassling you, but I won't bring it up again."

He snorted at that. "Until next time."

"Maybe." She shrugged. "You can't fault a girl for trying."

"I also don't understand the pressure to be exclusive."

"I could be there to make it happen for you."

He didn't say anything to that and just stared at her with a wry look in his gaze.

She sighed. "It's really not wrong in this world to have somebody on your side," she added.

"I don't need a full-time realtor, and I already have my chosen realtor."

"But you don't know what all I could do for you," she repeated, with a smile. "So, don't dismiss me just because you don't know what I can do yet."

He motioned at the Paragon building, behind them. "So, will you tell me how many people you have interested in it?"

"I can't really do that," she said, "but other people are interested, and I can say with surety that it's got prospects."

"Maybe, but not at the current asking price," he stated. "It's a drop-down for most people."

"But not for you," she replied shrewdly. "I've seen you buy properties similar to this one before. To everybody else they're dumps and teardowns, but, to you, something was there that you kept going after."

Not liking that she had intuited as much as she had, he shrugged. "Sometimes it's still not worth it."

"Of course it's not," she agreed, "and you have to do a cost analysis. I understand that, but once you do that…"

He nodded in agreement. "If I get that far on this property, I'll get back to you."

"You better hurry up," she warned, "because there is other interest."

"If I lose it, I lose it." Obviously the realtor was not happy with that response, so Simon stepped around the now-scowling realtor and moved on into the building.

"You can't just walk in and out all the time," she said in exasperation.

"Why not?" he asked, turning to look at her. "The homeless certainly are."

She frowned at him. "I did ask that guy to leave yesterday."

"Did you talk to him?"

"For a few minutes. He seems to have a mental illness problem."

"I would say that a lot of our homeless have that problem," he stated gently, "but that doesn't make them any less of a person."

"Of course not," she snapped, "but I do wish they could be helped elsewhere and not have them squatting in abandoned buildings."

"He wanted the peace and quiet, and this building was haunted and kept most people out."

She frowned. "You don't believe that, do you?"

"Doesn't matter whether I do or not, yet I bet a lot of your interested people would consider it."

She wasn't happy hearing that either. "I'm sure I could dissuade most of them, particularly knowing that this guy is not all there mentally. Still, I wouldn't want that to stop a sale."

"No, of course not." He chuckled. "That doesn't mean that it won't. Not everybody wants to get involved with ghosts."

"You do?" she challenged.

"Didn't say I do. Didn't say I don't." He gave her a beaming smile. "What I can tell you is that ghosts won't make a difference in my decision." Almost a whisper of relief crossed her face, and he nodded. "But I'm not yet ready to make the decision as to whether I want it or not."

"That's why you're back for the third time then, huh ?" she asked, beaming at him. "You think I haven't noticed?"

"I'm sure you have noticed, since it would be typical of you to keep track of my movements."

"Hey, you make it sound as if I'm some stalker or something," she protested. "I'm just keeping an eye on my client's property."

"Yeah? And I'm sure he wants to know whether I'm interested or not?"

"Sure, of course he does," she stated, then frowned. "I mean, he's anxious to sell… but he needs to get a good price for it."

"They'll get the price that I'm willing to pay, and it won't be anything you can push me on either."

"I know, which is both irritating and much easier on me."

"In what way?" he asked, turning to face her.

She shrugged. "I just tell them that I've worked with you in the past and that this is the best price they'll get and that you won't budge." She took a moment, then went on. "They generally give me quite a bit of grief about it, but then eventually believe me."

"Also it's pretty easy to look at my history of purchases," he pointed out, "and to realize that I can't change my system just because of them."

"I think eventually they get around to understanding that it's your price or no price."

"Exactly," he replied, "and I do take on buildings that a lot of other people won't. "

"But you've lost a lot too," she pointed out, "and, when you look at the history, I could have helped you get those all along."

He laughed. "If you're representing the seller, I'm not interested in working with you."

"You know the laws have changed, right? I can't represent both sides."

"I also know that you would just get somebody else in your office to handle one side or the other," he clarified. "So don't even try to tell me that you're not involved in both." She frowned and he nodded. "I know the new law was intended to change the inherent unfairness in the real estate market, but I highly doubt it's changed anything at all," he muttered. "Are you coming or leaving?" he asked her, as he turned to look at the entrance, which seemed to be calling to him, "because I'm going in for a look."

"But you were just here yesterday," she protested. "What on earth could there possibly still be for you to look at for another round?"

He laughed. "That's why I buy buildings, and you don't."

"It's also why I sell buildings," she snapped right back at him, "and you don't."

"Yeah… if I would have been in your business, I would probably end up broke."

"How on earth would you end up broke?" she asked, startled.

He shrugged. "Because I would buy mostly whatever I wanted, and you can bet I would be stacking up my inventory pretty damn fast." And, with that, he closed the front door in her face and walked into the building. When she didn't open it behind him, he felt the tension inside him relaxing. Sparring with a realtor was never at the top of his list of things to do for fun, but, in many ways, it was a necessary evil.

In theory, he could have approached the last remaining Paragon owner privately, as Simon had approached the family who owned this very building a couple years back. However, at that time, it was all caught up in a dying owner and a pair of not-too-cooperative heirs, so Simon had walked away. Obviously the slate had changed now. The old man he'd talked to had also passed on, and now the sole heir was looking at what he had for options. The longer the Paragon sat empty, the fewer options the seller had, and Simon wasn't in any rush.

Did he want the building? Yes, though he still hadn't made a definitive decision yet. Even as he had that thought, a voice inside, his voice, told him that he already knew what he would do and called him a liar, laughing at him. Of course that was also correct, but Simon wasn't at the point of making a solid decision that would end up being a viable choice. He would eventually. He just wasn't there yet.

Sometimes it took him a long time to get there, and sometimes he lost out because of it, but he took that as a sign of the property not being for him. He was okay with that too. Somedays it just seemed as if life offered more lemons than lemonade, and he would often take that as a sign as well.

As he stepped deeper into the bowels of the building, he felt that same sense of agelessness about her. He studied the walls, trying to see through the structure, knowing that one of his engineers would have to walk through and take a closer look. He made a mental note to get his guys on that. The Paragon's interior was absolutely gone and was something he had to look past in order to get to the next stage of what he was doing, and he would eventually. He could get there, but something about this old building kept calling him, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the value of the real estate. It had everything to do with the ghosts, but he just didn't know why.

He felt a shiver slide across his arms, raising the hairs along his arms and the back of his neck.