up early…” he prompted.
“Yes. I realized Nadine was still sleeping, so I quietly made some breakfast and then went back to my bedroom. I had left a couple projects undone at work, so I figured I’d use the time to catch up. I worked for a few hours on my laptop. I got a little sleepy and decided to catch a nap. When I woke up around eleven, I heard voices in the living room. I recognized Nadine’s voice, so I walked out to see what was going on. She was telling the stranger to get the hell out of our apartment.”
Sam flipped the pages of his notebook. “Nadine said that she was leaving for work and the woman had been in the hallway when she opened the door. She’d pushed her way into the apartment.”
Claire shook her head. “What kind of crazy person does that?”
Sam shrugged his broad shoulders. “I don’t know. What happened next?”
“The woman pulled a gun out of her pocket and started waving it around, screaming. It was pretty disjointed. Something about everything was ruined and that she wasn’t going to be the last fool left standing. She pointed the gun at us and she was shaking so much that I was afraid it was going to go off. She told us to sit down and when we didn’t move fast enough, she shot the gun. The bullet went over our heads, probably just a foot or two.”
“That’s probably what saved your life. The neighbor across the hall heard it.”
“Mrs. Peters. She hears everything.”
He smiled and she realized it was the first time she’d seen him do that. His teeth were white and straight and he looked like some model on the cover of GQ. She remembered overhearing her mother tell one of her friends that Sam was as handsome as Tessa was beautiful.
She swallowed hard and focused on getting the details right. “Nadine and I sat on the love seat and the woman sat across from us on the couch. She got really quiet. Then the police knocked on the door. She went crazy again and shot twice at the door.”
“Then what?”
“She was smoking one cigarette after another. Every once in a while, she’d wave her gun around. She asked us how much money we had and I told her I had sixty dollars in my purse and Nadine said she had about two hundred.”
“What did she say?”
“She started laughing hysterically, and said that wasn’t nearly enough. That she couldn’t have any kind of life on that kind of money. Then she pointed the gun at us, said she was going to have to kill us after all, and I knew she meant it.”
“But Nadine shot her first?”
“Yes. I just sat there and waited to die. Nadine, thankfully, wasn’t quite so willing to give up. Her backpack was wedged between the two seat cushions. When the woman was ranting, she somehow managed to reach into it, pull out a gun and shoot her.”
“And you said earlier that you had no idea that she had a gun.”
She shook her head. “No. She had mentioned something about a woman getting attacked in the parking lot at her work and that she was thinking about getting a gun. I didn’t realize that she’d followed through on it. I’ve never been all that crazy about guns, but call me a hypocrite because right now, I’m pretty darn glad she had it.”
Sam smiled. He glanced through the pages of his notebook again before looking up. “And neither of you ever met this woman before?”
“No.”
Sam rubbed his jaw. “Not through your jobs? Not some night at a bar?”
“No.” She pushed her empty soda container to the center of the table. “She was a stranger. I don’t even know her name and now she’s dead.”
“Her name is Sandy Bird. Ring a bell?”
“Sandy Bird,” Claire repeated. She let the name roll around in her head but it didn’t bump into anything familiar. “How do you know that’s her name?” she asked. “That’s pretty fast police work.”
He shrugged, letting her know that her grudging admission hadn’t been lost on him. “It wasn’t all that tough. She didn’t have a purse or a wallet on her, but she did have a set of keys in her pocket. When you were talking to the others, I walked outside, pointed the electric door opener at several cars, and sure enough, the lights on the green Toyota Camry started blinking. Her purse was in the trunk and when I matched up the license picture with uh…her face, I knew it was her.”
“She doesn’t have all that much of a face left,” Claire said, swallowing hard.
“A family member will need to make a positive ID down at the morgue. My partner, Cruz Montoya, is helping the coroner chase that down right now.” Sam pulled his straw out of his empty container and started tapping it on the table. “I understand your apartment was burglarized just a few weeks ago. Do you think this has anything to do with that?”
“I have no idea.”
He bent his straw double, then again, until it was a hard ball of plastic. He relaxed his hold and it sprang apart. Then he started folding again. “How long have you known Nadine?”
“Forever. We went to grade school together. We’d been planning this move to Chicago all through college. We both took jobs in Omaha after graduation. I needed some work experience before advertising agencies in Chicago would consider me. When I got the job at Alexander and Pope, she applied for nursing positions. She got one at Melrey.” Claire scooted to the edge of the booth. “Look, if there aren’t any more questions, I’d like to go.”
“Your apartment is a crime scene. You can’t stay there.”
Right now, she didn’t ever want to see her apartment again. “I know. I can’t even have it cleaned up until I get the okay. Fortunately, one of the officers gave me a business card. He said they’d do a good job.”
Sam shook his head. “They aren’t supposed to do that. Just so you know, it’s probably his cousin.”
She shrugged. She couldn’t care less. Their landlord had been one of the hundred people who’d flooded the apartment. He’d told them it was their responsibility to get the apartment cleaned and repainted. She and Nadine had agreed the couch was simply getting thrown out.
“So where are you two planning to stay?” he prompted.
“I’m staying at a hotel.” At the cheapest one she could find. Her credit card balances were mounting. “Nadine’s going home for a week or two. She worked it out with her supervisor.”
“I’m not crazy about her leaving right now,” Sam said. “I might have more questions for her.”
“I have her cell number, her mother’s cell and her parents’ home number.” Claire slid her purse strap onto her shoulder. It wasn’t going to be Sam Vernelli’s worry. She was making that call at eight o’clock Monday morning.
He pointed to his card that was still clenched in her fingers. “My work number is on that card. Let me give you my cell, in the event that you think of something else or if you…need anything.”
“Do you give your personal cell number to all your crime victims?”
