Redemption

Chapter 49

Posh.

That was the word that occurred to Mars as he pulled to a stop in the parking lot of the Silver Oak Grill. He didn’t know what it used to be, but its old bones had been given new life. He looked around at the other cars parked there and saw a sprinkling of late-model expensive rides. There was even a Maserati convertible parked near the awninged entrance.

He walked in and looked around. The buildout here had definitely been expensive. Mars had learned about construction costs from investing in real estate in the D.C. market. Old beams, pricey stone flooring, an elaborately carved bar, expensive wallpaper, coexisting with contemporary seating.

The place was nearly full with folks having lunch, and there were three people ahead of Mars waiting to be seated.

“Melvin?”

He looked to his right and saw Rachel Katz waving to him from a table in the corner. He walked over and joined her.

She stood and had to rise up on her toes to give him a hug and a peck on the cheek. Then she took a moment to appraise his attire. Gray jacket, black turtleneck, charcoal slacks, and black loafers.

“Terrific outfit.”

“Thank you. You’re looking quite sharp yourself,” he said, noting her slacks, blouse, jacket, and flats.

“Well, I came straight from work.”

As they sat, he saw that she had nearly finished her cocktail.

“Drink?” she said.

He eyed the almost empty glass. “What are you having?”

“Dewar’s and water. I’m ready for a refill.”

“Hitting the hard stuff in the afternoon, are we?”

“We are.”

He grinned. “Sounds good to me.”

They ordered their drinks and sat back.

“When you called, I was surprised you wanted to see me again,” she said.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, we left things a little, I don’t know, flat.”

“I’m into long-range forecasting. Date to date doesn’t mean much.”

“I’m flattered you referred to it as a date.”

Their drinks arrived, and they tapped glasses.

Katz took a sip and said, “And I guess I’m also surprised that Decker is letting you see me. I mean, he is investigating, and despite all the facts to the contrary, I guess I remain a person of interest or something like that.”

“You know the lingo,” he said, grinning.

“I watch crime shows, what can I say?”

“Surprised you have the time what with work and all your other projects.”

She leaned forward. “What would you say if I told you that most nights, I go home, change into my PJs, eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with chips on top, and watch old movies?”

He studied her. “I would believe that.” He quickly added, “Not because you don’t have options. I imagine you could have your pick of guys around here.”

She made a face. “Thing is, I don’t want the guys around here.”

“Which raises the question of why you don’t just move somewhere else. Chicago’s not that far away.”

“David and I were thinking of moving there. And then he died.”

“So you feel tied to this place?”

“In a way, I guess. He’s buried here. What he started to build is here.”

“Right.”

“You don’t believe me?” she said, her mouth creasing into a frown.

“No, I do believe you. Look at Decker. He doesn’t live here anymore, but he’s still tied to the place. Comes back to visit his family’s graves. Different people have different motivations. You want to stay here, you stay here. It’s your decision, no one else’s.”

She was about to say something but then took a quick sip of her drink instead. “You want to order? The salmon is really good, but I’m going for the tuna tartare.”

He glanced at the menu. “How’s the wagyu?”

“It’s great. We get it fresh every day.”

“We?”

She smiled. “I guess I didn’t tell you. I have an interest in this place too.”

“A lady with lots of interests. Makes the world go round.”

They ordered, and Mars looked around the place before resettling his gaze on Katz. “Lot of money in the parking lot and at these tables. Even saw a Maserati out there.”

“The Maserati belongs to that gentleman.” She pointed to a shortish man in his late sixties with thick gray hair. He wore a three-piece suit with no tie, crocodile skin loafers, and, despite the chilly weather, no socks. At his table were six other people. Four men and two women.

“Money man?”

“Yes. Duncan Marks.”

“Is he one of your partners?”

“No, not really. But he does a lot of projects around town. And we have done a couple deals together. But I’m a small fry compared to him.”

“Well, you’re a big fry where I’m concerned.”

She smiled at his statement. “How’s the investigation coming?”

“Decker’s interviewing Mitzi right about now. Checking alibis and stuff like that.”

“You mean for Susan Richards’s murder?”

“Yeah, among other things.”

“Getting back to my earlier thought. How come Decker is letting you hang out with me? Is he hoping you’ll learn some stuff so he can arrest me?” She said this last part in a cavalier way, but Mars could detect an undertone of apprehension.

“Like I said, I’m not law enforcement. I’m his friend. I don’t tell him what to do and he doesn’t tell me.”

“But you still want to help him.”

“Sure I do.” He spread his arms wide. “And if there’s anything you can tell me that will help, let me have it.”

She laughed. “You’re an interesting man. There aren’t that many around this town, at least that I can find.”

“You lost one when Decker moved away, that’s a fact.”

Their food came a few minutes later. Mars tasted his steak and his eyes widened. “Okay, that right there should be illegal, it’s so damn good. I don’t smoke, but I might just make an exception after eating this.”

“We were lucky to get our chef. He’s from Indianapolis. Trained under one of those master chefs you see on TV.”

“Well, the dude can cook.”

“Yes, he can. So, do you think Mitzi Hawkins will have an alibi for Susan’s murder?” asked Katz abruptly.

Mars looked up from his plate. “I don’t know. Decker must have it by now. If she had one. Then he’ll need to check it out.”

“Like he will mine.”

“That’s right.” He put down his fork and knife. “You look concerned.”

“Are you waiting for my confession?”

“No, because while I don’t know you well, you don’t strike me as the murdering type. I have a pretty good nose for that. But still, there may be something else weighing on your mind.”

“No, I’m good. Just tired, I guess. Been burning the midnight oil lately.” She rubbed her temples. “After you left the club, I did a little business. It wasn’t nearly as much fun as I had with you.”

“You flatter me.”

“Not to beat around the bush, Melvin, but I do find you very attractive.”

“Hey, you’re beautiful, smart, ambitious, sensitive, the whole package.”

“Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming?”

“I’m seeing someone right now.”

“Lucky girl.”

“I hope she thinks that. And I hope I didn’t lead you on.”

“No, you made things pretty clear, actually. But a lady can always dream.”

Mars sat forward. “Look, Rachel, I like you. I really do. And while I’m not officially working with Decker, I am helping him any way I can, like I said.”

Katz leaned back and picked up her drink. “Okay.”

“The undeniable fact is there are a lot of people dying around here. You had four people thirteen years ago, including your husband. Then Meryl Hawkins. Then Sally Brimmer, although Decker was the target there. And then Susan Richards.”

“And your point?”

“If you know anything, anything at all, you need to tell us. Last thing I want is for something to happen to you.”

Katz’s spine seemed to stiffen. “Thanks for your concern, Melvin. But I can take care of myself. And I don’t know anything, so I have nothing to worry about.”

Mars nodded slowly. “Okay, if you’re sure about that.”

“Very sure.”

“Because there’s been another murder you might not have heard of.”

Katz had picked up her fork. She slowly put it down as she absorbed this news. “What? Who?”

“Man named Karl Stevens. He dealt drugs here. He sold stuff to Mitzi and to Frankie Richards. Decker thinks he might be involved.”

“And he’s dead?”

“He was in prison. We went to see him. He said he knew nothing either. By the time we got back to Burlington the man had a knife in his neck.” Mars picked up his Dewar’s and took a sip. “So, apparently, some people don’t care if folks know anything or not. They just kill them.”

“But how could... I mean, he was in prison. People get killed in prison all the time.”

“You’re right about that. But the thing is, the tats that Stevens had on his arms?”

“What about them?” Katz said in a trembling voice.

“They matched the tats on the guy who shot Sally Brimmer. Decker was really sure about that, and nobody’s memory beats his.”

“And you don’t think that might be a coincidence?”

“Do you?”

Katz sat back and composed herself. “Well, I’m sorry about this Mr. Stevens, but that has nothing to do with me.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I am sure.”

“Then let’s just get back to this lovely meal.”

Mars finished all of his steak. Katz barely touched her food. She finished her second Dewar’s, though.

As they were leaving, they passed Marks’s table. Duncan Marks put out a hand and gripped Katz’s arm. “Rachel, I thought that was you over there.”

“Hello, Duncan.”

“The place is doing fabulous. Another home run for you.”

“Thanks.”

Marks looked at Mars. “And I don’t believe I know your friend.”

Mars put out a hand. “Melvin Mars. Nice to meet you, sir.”

They shook hands as the other people at the table stared dully at them.

“Rachel said that was your Maserati out there. Beautiful car.”

“Yes, it is. German engineering and Italian design, a match made in heaven.”

They all laughed.

They walked out of the restaurant and Katz turned to Mars.

He said, “Seems like a nice guy.”

“Yeah, look, um, I know we just had lunch, but can we have dinner tonight?”

“Okay, sure. Where?”

She hesitated. “My place. I can actually cook.”

When he looked uncomfortable, she gripped his arm. “I promise, it won’t be like that. I... I just need to have a home-cooked meal and someone to talk to. And I’d like that someone to be you.”

Mars squeezed her hand and nodded. “Sure, sounds good.”

“Seven okay?”

“I’ll be there. Anything I can bring?”

“Just yourself, Melvin, that will be enough.”