Angels Fall

wasn't going to grab Rorv and run off with him. Marlie perched on the edge of the couch. "She left some stuff, took her clothes and like that, but left some kitchen stuff, magazines, that kind of thing. Said she didn't want it, just junk anyhow."
    "She told you that:'
    "Me? No." Marlie thinned her lips. "We weren't actually on what you'd call speaking terms by that time. But she left a note for the super. He lives next door. Said she was moving on to better. She always said she would. So she took her clothes, got on her bike and blew."
    "Bike?" Brody repeated.
    "She drove a Harley. Fit her. I guess, cause she brought a lot of biker types home while she lived here." She glanced over to make sure Rory wasn't paving attention. "Worked in a titty bar," she said under her breath. "Place called the Rendezvous. Deena used to tell me, when we were still talking, that I'd make more money there than at Smiling Jack's Grill. I waitress there. But I didn't want to work at that kind of plate, and I can't be out until God knows serving beer, half naked, when I've got Rory."
    "She lived alone?" Reece prodded.
    "Yeah, but she'd bring company home pretty regular. Sorry if she's a friend of yours, but that's the way it was. She had  company  most every night up until about six. eight months ago."
    "What changed?"
    "Pretty sure there was a man—a particular one. I heard them up there once a week or so. Then she'd light out for a day, sometimes two. Told me she had a fish on the line—that's how she talks. He bought her stuff, she said. New leather jacket, a necklace, lingerie. Then, I don't know. I guess they had a falling-out."
    "Why do you think that?"
    "Well, she came roaring in here early one morning. I was getting Rory in the car to take him to preschool. She was steaming. Cursing a streak. I told her to take it down, that my boy was in the car. She said how he was going to grow up to be a bastard like the rest of them.
    "Can you beat that?" Marlie demanded, obviously still insulted by it. "Saying that about that sweet boy and right to my face?"
    "No, I can't. She must have been angry about something."
    "I don't care what she was mad about, she had no cause to talk about my Rory that way. Set me off. We had a round right out there in the parking lot, but I backed off first. I had my kid, plus I heard she once smashed a guy in the face with a beer bottle at the bar. She isn't the type I want to mess with."
    "Can't blame you." Reece thought of how Deena had slapped her killer, how she'd leaped at him.
    "  She  didn't back off," Marlie continued. "Got right up in my face. She said how nobody pushes her around. Nobody screws with her. And he—must've been the guy she was seeing—was going to pay. When she was done with him, she'd be moving on to better."
    Marlie shrugged. "That's the gist of it anyway. She stomped away, and I got in the car. I was pretty steamed."
    "Is that the last time you saw her?" Brody asked.
    "No, I guess I saw her around a couple more times. Avoided her, to tell the truth. Heard her bike a few times."
    "Would you remember the last time you heard it?" Reece asked her.
    "I sure would because last time it was the middle of the damn night. Woke me up. It would've been the next day the super told me she lit out. Put the keys in an envelope and split. He said he was putting the rest of her things in storage for a while." She shrugged again.
    "Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. None of my business. I'm glad she's gone. Lupe and her husband are a lot better neighbors. Serge said I can schedule working at the salon when Rory's in preschool, but Lupe's watching Rory evenings when I work at the grill. I'd never have trusted Deena with my kid." Suddenly Marlie frowned. "Are you cops or something? She in trouble?"
    "We're not cops," Reece replied and glanced at Brody. "But I think there may have been trouble. Do you know if the super's home'"
    "He mostly is."
    He was. Jacob Mecklanburg was a tall, lean seventy with a dapper white mustache. His apartment, a mirror image of Marlie's in design, was crammed with books.
    "Deena Black. High maintenance." he said with a shake of his head. "Always complaining Paid the rent on time—or nearly. Not a happy woman, the sort that likes to blame everything and everyone else for the fact her life isn't what she imagined it would be."
    "Is this Deena?"
    Reece took a copy of the sketch from her purse.

    Mecklanburg changed his glasses for a pair in his pocket, pursed his lips as he