She could have said anything else, but that. Anything else Carmen could have said would have been met with a polite answer, followed by I can't help you. but that, he couldn’t dismiss so easily. The fact was; he had lost somebody.
Marcus got up from his desk and walked over to the wet bar. Carmen watched Marcus quietly as he walked. She looked at the expression on his face and knew that she had hit a nerve.
“Can I offer you a drink, Ms. Taylor?”
“It's a little early in the day for me. But it's been that kind a day. So, I'll have Bacardi, if you have it. On the rocks, please.”
Marcus fill
ed a couple of glasses with ice poured Bacardi for Carmen and Hennessy for himself. He handed Carmen her glass and returned to his seat behind the desk.
“You know it's funny you should ask me that. Have I ever lost somebody?”
“Have you, Mr. Douglas?” Carmen smiled at Marcus.
He took another sip of his drink and smiled back at her. He took a minute to admire her beauty before he answered. “An old client of mine was in trouble. Well, I won't bore you with the details, but to make a long story short, she died in my arms.”
“I'm sorry to hear that. Were you two very close?”
“I'm sure it's nothing like you and your sister. But, yes, we got to be very close during the time we had together. I spend the next year asking questions. Just trying to get somebody, anybody to get it to make sense to me. I ended up in New York and hiring a private investigator to tell me what I guess I knew all along. She knew too much she could talk about. So she had to die because she wanted to get out. “
“So you do understand.”
“More than you know, Ms. Taylor.”
“So you'll help me?”
“I've was planning on taking a little vacation anyway. Yes, Ms. Taylor, I'll be glad to help in any way I can.” Marcus picked up the phone. “Janise, get me the summary notes on the Ferguson case, and give them to Ms. Taylor on her way out, please.”
“I'll have the file ready for her,” Janise replied. “Should I take the crime scene pictures out, first?”
“Definitely. And ask Garrett to call me at home tonight.”
Marcus turned his attention back to Carmen. “What I'd like you to do is look over the notes from the case. Pay particular attention to the investigation. Let me know if you think there's something that the police might have missed. That will at least give us a place to start. I'll tell Janise to give you access to any documents you want to see.”
“Okay, Mr. Douglas that sounds like a good idea,” Carmen said, as she stood up. “I want to thank you for agreeing to help me. I really appreciate it. I was beginning to think that nobody cared who killed Desireé.”
Marcus took a card from the holder on the desk and wrote his home phone number on it. He got up and handed it to Carmen. “You're welcome Ms. Taylor. I know how you feel,” he said and escorted her out of his office. “This is my number at home. Call me if you think of anything or you have any questions. Where are you staying, by the way?”
“I'm staying at the Marriott by the airport.”
“And now if you'll excuse me, it's been a long couple of months. I'm going home.”
SORTING OUT THE DETAILS
The drive home through downtown traffic was brutal. Marcus pushed Lee Morgan's The Gigolo into the CD player and loosened his tie. Of all the days Marcus picked to go home early, he would pick a day when The Braves were playing the New York Yankees in an afternoon double header.
“This is no way to start a vacation.”
Once he got on I-20 traffic began to thin out and Marcus relaxed and thought about where he was going to go on his vacation. He tossed around a few places. Aruba, Puerto Rico, the Mediterranean, Africa maybe, but he wasn't feeling any of those places. This would be the first time he'd been on vacation in three years and the first time in years he'd be going by himself. Thinking about vacationing alone started him thinking about Randa. He thought again about the places that he'd thought about going and realized he been to each place with Randa.
“For once, can you think about something else?”
Once Marcus finally arrived at home, he poured himself a glass of Hennessy and sat down in his favorite chair. He reached in the drawer of the end table and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit up. Smoking was something else he owed to Randa. He had quit smoking for her. He had quit for five years before he caught Randa cheating. After that, puffing a Kool seemed to make things easier. Marcus turned the television to CNN and before he knew it he was asleep. The phone rang to bring him out of his nod. He answered, “Hello.”
“Hello Marcus, this is Randa. Did I wake you?”
“Yes, I guess you did,” Marcus replied trying to shake himself out of it.