Living With the Dead (Otherworld 9)

Undercover officer? Judd? So now she was the main suspect in a cop killing?

When Robyn didn't answer, Hope went on. Something about knowing Robyn wouldn't have taken a taxi when she might be wanted for murder, so she couldn't be more than a few miles from Judd's place.

It was plausible, she supposed. But that was still a lot of area to cover. And why leave Hope behind when two sets of eyes and legs could have searched twice as fast?

"We need to talk about what happened," Hope said.

"I didn't kill them."

"I know. But you need to tell us exactly what happened so we can figure out what to do."

Well, at least someone was taking charge and making plans.

Robyn told them everything. As she talked and drank and nibbled on a sandwich, the deadening layer of shock lifted enough for her to look around and realize the situation was real, and she couldn't take refuge in fantasies of madness.

"I should turn myself in," she said finally.

"You will... just not right now. Karl talked to a friend. He's a lawyer who specializes in this sort of problem."

There was a specialty in this?

"He advised us," Hope continued, "and, if we need him, he'll come down. He's in Oregon, but he's licensed to practice in California. Anyway, the main thing now is to keep you in L.A., just away from your apartment or anyplace you could be recognized. That way, we can say you weren't on the run, just in shock. But that excuse will only work for a day or two, so we have to work fast. We need to give the police another suspect - preferably the real killer."

"You're..." She looked from Hope to Karl. "You're going to solve this yourselves?"

Hope smiled. "Hey, I'm True News's weird tales girl, remember? Solving mysteries is my thing. Karl's helped me before. He used to be in security."

"I'm not sure..."

Karl spoke from across the room, his first words since they'd arrived. "You don't have a lot of options right now, Robyn."

Hope shushed him with a glare, but he was right, and his cold realism felt somehow more reassuring than Hope's bright optimism.

Hope cracked open a water bottle. "I can't promise we will solve it. But we're going to try, and if we're no closer tomorrow than we are right now, we'll get our friend's help, let you turn yourself in and keep on w

orking. We have some leads already."

"You do? How?"

"Like I said, there's an advantage to having a tabloid reporter on your case. I have the perfect excuse for snooping, and people aren't nearly as reluctant to talk to the tabs as they let on." She took a long gulp of water. "There's a rumor that someone heard Portia arguing in that back hall. She was talking about a cell phone. And maybe something about a picture."

"Cell... ? Wait. Before she died, Portia mentioned her cell. I thought she wanted me to use it to call 911, but that didn't seem to be it."

"Her cell phone wasn't with her body. She had it earlier, didn't she?"

"She must have. I always swore it was surgically attached."

"What about pictures or photos? Does that ring a bell?"

"People were always taking Portia's picture. The only time she snapped shots was when she wanted to show something - a purse or an outfit she liked. She did send me one yesterday - from her cell actually - but it was just of Jasmine Wills."

"Jasmine?"

"In an ugly dress. Portia's been having this passive-aggressive feud with her, and she wanted me to send this picture to the tabloids."

"How big a deal would that be? I mean, I can't see anyone shooting Portia to stop her from getting a photo published, but maybe Jasmine tried to get it back, waved a gun and it went off. Sounds farfetched, but you did think the killer might have been a woman."

"At first. But Judd's killer was a young man, so maybe I was mistaken."