The Night Bird (Frost Easton #1)

Newman rolled his eyes and called over his shoulder. “Simona, there’s someone who wants to meet you. The cops want to make sure I’m not strangling you or something.”

Frost kept an eye on the doorway. The bedroom door opened all the way, revealing the rumpled end of a king-sized bed and walls covered in a metallic wallpaper made up of different stripes of blue. A young woman wandered toward him, unconcerned by his gun. She had severely short blond hair, and she wore a peach-colored man’s dress shirt, unbuttoned down the front to reveal her stomach and the half-moons of her breasts. A black towel was wrapped around her waist.

“Is this one of your jokes, Darren?” she asked. “Is this guy a stripper or something?”

“No, he’s really a cop.”

Frost reholstered his gun. “Are you all right, miss?”

“Other than being interrupted in the middle of a good banging, I’m fine,” she told him.

“Are you here voluntarily? Were you coerced in any way to have sex this evening?”

“Coerced? Hardly.”

“Have you taken any drugs or consumed any alcohol?”

“That’s none of your business,” Simona fired back. “And if you’re planning to tell me about Darren’s past, don’t be boring. I know all about it. You people should leave him alone.”

“Do you remember how you got here tonight?” Frost asked.

“Do I remember?” the woman asked. “What kind of question is that?”

Newman flicked his fingers like a magician readying an illusion. “He thinks I put you in a trance to have sex with me. You’re hypnotized, didn’t you realize? Haven’t you seen the news today? When I play the song ‘Nightingale,’ you will get on your back, and you won’t remember a thing in the morning.”

“Oh, I’ll remember,” Simona told Frost. “Believe me. I’m all stretched out.”

Newman winked. “Well, are you satisfied, Officer?”

“For now,” Frost replied.

“Then get out of the house. Leave me your card, too. I bet your superiors will be interested to hear you about you breaking in here with your gun in hand. Of course, I was really hoping it would be Frankie. I was looking forward to taking out a restraining order against her.”

Frost began to appreciate Newman’s talent for manipulation. He could see in the man’s reptilian eyes exactly what he was. A ruthless, calculating predator.

“You knew Dr. Stein was following you?”

“Sure, I spotted her behind me on the bridge. She’s scary. You should keep an eye on her. No telling what she might do.”

“Darren’s right,” Simona added. “I met that bitch. You could tell she was hot for him. I think she’s obsessed.”

Newman gave the woman’s bare ass a playful slap. “Go back to bed, love. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Simona walked down the hallway with an exaggerated sway in her hips. Frost was careful to keep his eyes on Newman’s face and not on the barely dressed girl. Newman grabbed a pack of cigarettes from a bowl near the open front door and strolled with Frost out to the courtyard. He lit a cigarette and blew smoke into the cold air.

“Is this your house?” Frost asked him.

“My parents own it. They’re in Zurich now. They travel a lot.”

“Your parents have been very good to you. They get you out of a lot of trouble.”

“That’s what parents do,” Newman replied.

“What about the dog? Does he belong to them, too?”

“No, that’s Simona’s. Pissant yipper dog never shuts up. I may have to kill it.”

He made the threat so casually that it took Frost’s breath away. There was not a shred of doubt in his mind that Newman was serious. It made him want to go back inside and tell the young girl that she was in danger, even if she didn’t believe him.

“A lot of people think you killed Merrilyn Somers, too,” Frost told him.

“Sooner or later, every bitch needs to be put down,” Newman said with a smirk.

“None of this is funny.”

“No? You’re just like Frankie. You don’t appreciate my sense of humor.”

Frost leaned in close to the man, but Darren Newman didn’t look easily intimidated. He was too cocky. Too sure of himself.

“Where is she?” Frost asked.

“Who?”

“Lucy Hagen.”

“I have no idea who that is,” Newman replied.

“I want her back. I want her back right now.”

“Is this another one of Frankie’s unfortunate patients? Too bad. I wonder what this one will do when the music starts playing. Drive her car off a cliff. Swallow a bottle of pills. Slit her wrists. Whoever this Night Bird is, you have to admire his imagination.”

Frost didn’t like being baited. And this man was good at it.

“You made a mistake this time, Mr. Newman. You screwed up.”

“Did I? How so?” He took another casual drag on his cigarette.

“You’ve been setting someone up. A man you wanted to frame, just like you framed Leon Willis. The thing is, this man caught you on videotape in a bar. We can put the two of you together. That’s going to make it hard to sell him as the one behind the game. It won’t be like Merrilyn Somers.”

In the semidarkness of the courtyard, Frost saw a darker shadow flit across Darren Newman’s face. He’d struck a nerve. Newman didn’t know about the video. Even so, the man’s smile quickly returned.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied. “But a video of me in a bar? Is that the best you can do? I go to a lot of bars. I’m a party animal. Simona will tell you that. I think you better take a long, hard look at the lies that Frankie has been spreading about me. I’m beginning to wonder whether Frankie is doing this herself. The woman isn’t stable. She lost her father recently, did you know that? Tragedies like that can push people over the edge.”

Frost turned away, but Newman called after him.

“Don’t forget to leave me your card.”

Frost dug in his wallet and extracted a card, which he placed in Newman’s hand. The man studied it in the dim light of the garden. “Inspector Frost Easton,” he said. “Who’s your boss in the department, Frost?”

“Jess Salceda.”

“Oh, sure, I know Jess. I’m sure she remembers me, too. I’ll call her tomorrow and tell her about your visit this evening. I think she’ll tell you and Frankie to stay away from me. The last thing the San Francisco Police need is another harassment lawsuit.”



The light inside the car cast shadows under Francesca Stein’s eyes. She brushed back a few loose strands of her brown hair and faked a smile, but Frost could see that she was broken down. Her face, which was always thin, looked fragile. She had her hands in her lap. Her back was arrow straight. Hot air blew from the vents, making the interior warm.

“He knew I was following him,” she said.

“Yes.”

“He played me. He lured me here, and he knew I’d make a fool of myself. No one will believe a thing I say about him now.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re right about him,” Frost told her, “but my own credibility isn’t going to be too high after tonight, either.”

Stein turned to face him. Something about her vulnerability made him conscious of how attractive she was. “I’m sorry that I put you in that position,” she said.

“Newman’s good at what he does,” Frost said.

“Yes, he is.” She leaned back against the headrest. He could see the slope of her neck. “Can I confess something to you, Frost? I’m not sure why. I just feel the need to say it out loud.”

He noticed that she’d used his first name, which she’d never done before. “Say whatever you like.”

“I was attracted to Darren Newman when I met him,” she said. “I hate it, I’m not proud of it, but it was chemical. I’m sure that makes no sense to you.”

“I’m a man. I’m never on safe ground trying to figure out what women want.”

“Well, you’d think I’d be smarter than that, but I’m not. I’m married. I’m older than he is. I’m a scientist. I still found him difficult to resist.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

She hesitated long enough to make him wonder what she was going to say. “No.”

“Then it sounds like you have nothing to regret,” he replied, but he wondered if she was lying.