Page 92 of NYPD Red 7: The Murder Sorority

“What does she talk about?”

“You know those people who love to advertise their misery? That’s her. It’s like tuning into a soap opera.Natalie’s Daily Drama.My wife is a hairdresser. She gets that from her customers all day. My one brother owns a bar. He gets it all night. I tell them both I’ll put Natalie up against their biggest bellyachers and I’ll win hands down.”

“We’re going up to her apartment,” Kylie said. “Do not ring up and let her know we’re coming.”

His face broke into a big, wide smile. “Not to worry, Detective. My other brother is a cop.” He winked. “This ain’t my first rodeo.”

CHAPTER 61

Kylie and I tookthe elevator up to the fourth floor.

“Do you smell that?” Kylie asked as soon as we got to Natalie’s apartment door. “Pine-Sol.”

I rang the doorbell. Once. Twice. Then I pounded on it. Hard.

Finally, the meek response from the other side. “Who is it?”

“Police,” Kylie said.

“You must have the wrong apartment. I didn’t call the police.”

“Natalie, we’re here to talk about Shane Talbot. Please let us in.”

“Do I have to?” she pleaded.

“We all want to get to the bottom of this, don’t we, Natalie?” Kylie said. “Now, please open the door so we can talk.”

One lock clicked loudly. Then a second. The door opened just wide enough to allow Kylie and me to enter the apartment single file. The foyer was spotless, the mahogany console table was polished to a high gloss, and the mirror above it gleamed. The smell of lemon oil and ammonia blended with thePine-Soldisinfectant. Natalie had been cleaning up a storm. A symbolic gesture that may have helped to ease her mind, but it did nothing to undo the damage she’d done.

She was tall, angular, and gaunt. Her hair was a vapid shade of brown cut just above the shoulders. It was so iconic that even I could recognize it—the Rachel haircut that Jennifer Aniston had sported on the hit TV seriesFriends. Someone must have told Natalie how good it looked on her back in the nineties, and she stuck with it ever since.

“Terrible news about Shane,” she said, her hands trembling. “I saw it in the paper.”

“Yousawit in the paper,” Kylie repeated, her eyes brimming with disgust.

Natalie’s lips started quivering. “Do you mind if I sit down?” she said. “I haven’t eaten much lately. I’m a little shaky.”

We went into the living room, which was every bit as immaculate as the foyer—not a single throw pillow or knickknack out of place. Natalie lowered herself onto the sofa.

“I had nothing to do with it,” she volunteered unprompted. “I swear.”

“Are you trying to convince yourself that you’re innocent?” Kylie said. “Because if you’re trying to convince us, we’re not buying it. Try again.”

She started to whimper. “He fired me.”

“Which was very generous of him,” Kylie said. “You stole from him. He could have pressed charges. He let you off easy.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said, the tears coming on fast. “I never looked at it that way. I was angry, so I vented. Everybody does it. It’s not a crime.”

“It’s not a crime to vent the truth,” Kylie said. “But what I read made him sound like a monster. You stole, and then you rewrote the script so that you became the victim. You wanted people—total strangers—to take your side. You were hoping somebody would pay him back for the wrongs he supposedly did to you. And now you’re saying you had nothing to do with it?”

Natalie couldn’t speak. She picked up a pillow, put it to her face, and sobbed into it, her body heaving. Kylie let her go for a solid minute, then sat down on the sofa and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Natalie, it’s okay. We know you didn’t pull the trigger. We need your help finding out who did.”

It took another minute for her to regain her composure. She put the pillow down on her lap. “I don’t know how to find her,” she said.

Her?We were looking for a man. But we weren’t about to give away how little we knew.

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