by Robin Mahle
“Well they were. Someone knew enough about them to be concerned and they ended up dead.” Allison folded her arms and clenched her jaw. “How much do you know about the wife, Tracy?”
Milo shook his head. “No more than I should, I suppose. She wasn’t part of the plan. It was Carlos we were after. The affair was a sidebar. It fell into our laps and we used it as a way to keep Carlos distracted and that was when I brought in Tommy. I facilitated their meeting.”
“You keep saying ‘we’ and ‘they.’ Who else knows about this?”
“I think it’s best if you don’t know that just yet. And that’s strictly for your protection, not because I don’t trust you.”
Allison nodded. “Sure. But you know, if Tracy Diaz was like most other women, she would have confided in a close friend.”
“About the affair?” Milo asked.
“Yes. And maybe other things too. I’ll have to find out who was in her inner-circle. I want to know how long the affair had been going on and what she told her friends.”
“What will that accomplish?”
She held Milo’s gaze. “Let me ask you something. Do you think Carlos Diaz killed his wife and his right-hand man?”
Milo pursed his lips. “Not in the least.”
“Neither do I. First of all, if he had he would be behaving much differently and from what Shane has heard on the grapevine, Carlos seemed genuinely heartbroken. And then we have the car, which we’re pretty sure was a Mercedes. It blew past me that night, straight out of Goodfellow’s building.”
This wasn’t payback for Milo withholding details from her, but Allison didn’t want to mention the possibility it had been the same car they had seen in a video outside Tommy’s office. Then again, maybe it was payback and she was being petty. Regardless, that was going to be her ace in hand in case she needed it later.
“I didn’t get a good look at the driver, but I can guarantee you it wasn’t Carlos Diaz,” Allison continued. “If he was a passenger, I sure as hell didn’t see him.”
“I suppose he could have been in the backseat,” Milo said.
“Sure. But for the moment, let’s go with our assumption that he didn’t kill the couple. Then that would lead me to believe Tracy opened her mouth to someone, a friend maybe, about Carlos’ business dealings and her affair. You can’t tell me she wouldn’t have known what he was up to. Harlan Goodfellow was Carlos’ CFO and close friend.”
“Harlan could have told her,” Milo added.
“Can’t rule that out either. But let’s get back to Tracy because I think she might hold the key as to who let it be known where the happy couple was planning their tryst that night. Is it possible to get a list of names of her closest friends?”
“If Montoya is worth his salt, he would’ve already talked to her friends. I don’t know the man personally, but you don’t get to be a homicide detective without knowing what you’re doing. So, it’s possible he could forward that information on if he was feeling generous.”
“Not likely. He doesn’t think much of me. He’s not going to give me the time of day, let alone details I have no business having. Shane either. So who else might know?”
“Sounds morbid as all get out but what about the upcoming funeral?” Milo asked.
Allison crinkled her nose as though a terrible smell wafted in front of her. “The funeral. Of course. I hate funerals. But that would be the place to go if I wanted to know who Tracy’s friends were.”
“As you know, I work for the D.A.’s office so I can’t exactly encourage you to pursue this avenue. But if I were you and I wanted to know if Tracy Diaz spilled the beans to a close personal friend, and maybe said friend let it be known, then the funeral may be all you have to work with.” Milo cocked his head. “Now that I’ve given you that, it’s time you tell me what evidence you have regarding the suspected bribe.”
The popular bayside restaurant was bursting at the seams as Saturday night rolled in. Allison sat in the booth. The music was loud, and the patrons were louder. She watched Charlie’s eyes glaze over with a blend of repulsion and anxiety. “I know it’s crazy, but I think it’s the only way. I talked with Milo about it and he agrees.”
“Milo agrees?” Charlie scoffed. “That can’t be right.”
“Look, Charlie, I get that it’s a little macabre, but we have to know who she talked to. Who her friends were. Tracy Diaz might have been murdered for something her husband was doing. Maybe she threatened to talk, I don’t know. But if we can’t uncover who her friends were or who she may have confided in, I don’t know where else to go. It’s the last option before we have to trust that Montoya will figure it out. Or Alvarez will offer up valuable phone records. I’m not going to hold my breath for either outcome. What’s worse is that neither detective knows about any of this. And for now, Milo wants to keep it that way.”
“Hold up. Milo, an attorney for the D.A.’s office, doesn’t think this should be brought up with the investigating officer? Why?”
“Because it’ll end his own investigation. People he has working for him will be exposed. Milo knew about the money. I told him what we found on Tommy’s laptop and now he has a copy of it. He’s more determined than ever to see this through. And if Montoya catches wind that Tracy Diaz knew her husband had some shady deal and took a bribe or something, Milo thinks Carlos will be gone in a heartbeat and then no one’s going to know what happened to any of them.”
Charlie shook her head. “This doesn’t feel right, Alli. What if we’re breaking the law? You want your license, right? Well, if all this comes out that you did nothing about this, what chance do you stand of making that happen?” Charlie asked. “What does Shane think about all this?”
Allison picked up her glass of iced tea and sucked on the straw, averting her eyes.
“He doesn’t know,” Charlie said. “You haven’t told him this cockamamie idea, have you?”
After a final, loud slurp, Allison set down the glass. “No, but not because I don’t think he would go for it.”
“Really?”
“Maybe he wouldn’t but point being, Montoya is trying to find who killed Tracy and Harlan Goodfellow. As of right now, he has no reason to look into Carlos’s business dealings. That could change, and probably will. Which is why we don’t have a lot of time to figure this out.”
“How do you know? Are you there with Montoya questioning Diaz?”
“Well, no,” Allison replied.
“No. You’re not. You don’t know where his investigation is leading him or to who. And for you to jump in and somehow make nice with Tracy Diaz’s friends? That is a rabbit hole, my friend.”
“I know this is way off base from where we started.”
“Sister, we are so high up in the bleachers, I can’t see the field let alone the bases. We started this because you wanted to help that girl. An admirable goal. Now you want to help Milo catch Carlos Diaz in what, a bribery scheme or something?”
“It’s all tied together. I promise you, Charlie, it is. Boyce knew what Diaz was up to. We found proof on his laptop. Diaz was on the take with someone and it involves a company called Perry Construction. Milo says it’s all intertwined.”
“If Milo wants you to handle it this way, then he must have a hell of lead on something huge. But we aren’t doing this without Shane’s guidance. You’re going to have to tell him.” Charlie picked up her barbeque bacon cheeseburger and held it to her lips. “And I’ll need a black dress.”
Given the media attention to the murders and the social and business standing of Carlos Diaz, blending in at the funeral was a piece of cake for Allison and Charlie. No one questioned if or how they knew the deceased.
The service was only minutes from commencing and the Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Tampa was filled to capacity. The ornate cathedral had a long and storied history in the city. It was the perfect choice for the wealthy Diaz family. Allison and Charlie were donned in appropriately dark attire and were just about to enter.
Charlie tugged on her black blazer. “I should’ve gotten a smaller size. I look like a rotten sack of potatoes in this. And I’m sweating.”
“You look very—conservative.” Allison smiled.
They stood in front of the church steps ready to ascend them when Allison set her sights across the street. Between the many cars that lined the road, she noticed Shane standing in the spindly shadow of a tall palm tree. He nodded.
“We’ve just been given permission to enter.” Allison took the first step and made her way inside.
Charlie was right next to her.
“I see Carlos Diaz in the front,” Allison whispered.
“He looks like hell,” Charlie replied. “Not at all like a man who murdered his wife.”
Allison directed Charlie to a pew near the back of the church and both took a seat wedged between other mourners. She retrieved her phone and placed it in her lap, covering it with her hands.
Charlie eyed the phone. “What are you going to do with that?”
“If the opportunity presents itself, I’ll take pictures.”
“Seriously? Here?”
“If I get the chance, yes, I’m serious. Charlie, I have to be able to identify these people. How else can I do that?”
“Not sitting in a pew, my friend. If you ask me, it’s like we’re wedding crashers only this is way creepier.”
“I’ll be discreet and only take the pictures if I’m sure no one is looking at me. I’m not a complete fool.”
“Just a partial one.” Charlie snickered softly.
“You might have a point.” Allison revealed a sly grin.
The mood quickly turned somber when the services began. The two sat quietly in the back amid the gentle sobs and occasional blowing of noses. It had been many years since Allison attended a funeral. Not since her grandmother passed and that was almost 10 years ago, back in the days when she and Leo were still married, and the kids were still young. A lot had changed in those 10 years.
When the service finished, Carlos Diaz, along with his two teenaged children walked into the aisle and toward the vestibule. The music echoed when the doors opened into the lobby that was complete with tall ceilings and stained-glass windows.
The mourners stood. Allison and Charlie fell in with the rest and clasped their hands at their fronts and lowered their eyes while the family walked by. But Allison couldn’t look away. She wanted to look in Carlos’s eyes. Would there be remorse or guilt, or would his eyes be empty, void of any emotion at all?
Allison saw his eyes. She knew then that if Carlos Diaz had intended for his wife to be murdered, he didn’t show it. Allison finally cast away her glance, feeling more determined than ever to understand how Tracy Diaz was involved and how it had led up to her death. More importantly, how Tommy Boyce became embroiled in it.
Several others approached the casket at the end of the service and Allison took a mental note of each woman who appeared to have been roughly the same age as Tracy. These women would most likely have been her friends, possibly family.
“We should probably leave now, don’t you think?” Charlie whispered.
“I want to wait in the lobby.” Allison glided out of the pew with Charlie close behind. She made her way through the crowd who appeared to aimlessly wander the lobby in search of a place to be told where to go. “Did you notice the women who approached the casket?”
“I did. I also noticed you didn’t take any pictures,” Charlie replied.
“What can I say? You made a convincing argument. But we’re out here now and I’d like to try to talk to one of them.” Allison squinted for a better look as Carlos was approached by a woman. “Who’s that one there?”
“I have no idea. She was near the front of the church. Family, maybe?” Charlie replied.
“Maybe.” Allison pulled close to Charlie and whispered. “Look at how close she’s standing to him. Her body language. This is not a friend. Not Tracy’s friend, anyway.”
“You could be right. Her hand gestures,” Charlie began. “It’s like she’s flirting almost. Gross. Who would do that to the man whose wife just died?”
“She’s the mark. And she’s walking away from Carlos. It’s now or never.”
“Alli, are you sure…” Before she could finish her sentence, Allison started toward the woman. Charlie cursed under her breath but played along and stayed a step behind.
Allison tilted her head and offered a tender smile as she encountered the woman. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Tracy was a beautiful soul.” The words rolled from Allison’s tongue as though she’d practiced them for the last hour, natural, genuine and the woman was responsive.
“Tracy was exactly that.” The woman with auburn hair and puffy brown eyes studied Allison. “How did you know her?”
“We met a few times in passing. But with everything that’s happened, I felt the least I could do was pay my respects. Are you with the family?” Allison was polished and unfettered in her response.
“She was my best friend. Well, Tracy had a lot of best friends, but I’ve known her since before she and Carlos were married,” the woman replied.
“Well, I’m sure you were grateful to have been so close,” Allison said.
“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”
“Emma Stone.”
Charlie’s eyes widened and anyone within 5 feet of her would’ve heard the gulp in her throat.
“Like the actress?” The woman asked Allison.
“Um, yes, actually. I am obviously much older than the actress, so I tell people she stole my name.” Allison remained unflappable in the face of her major faux pa.
“Oh. That’s funny. I’m Laura Young.” She turned her head when a man touched her shoulder.
“We should probably go,” the man said.
Laura placed her hand on top of his and turned back to Allison. “It was very nice to meet you, Emma Stone. I apologize, but I have to…”
“Of course. It was my pleasure, Laura. Please, take care.” Allison held a sympathetic eye while Laura and the man she was with walked away.
“Emma Stone?” Charlie asked.
“I know, I know. I messed up. If I hadn’t just watched that damn musical she was in.”
“Sure, okay. Maybe we should go too?” Charlie reached for her arm and gently tugged, but Allison wasn’t moving. “Alli, you did good. We have a name.”
“Laura Young was with another man but the way she was acting with Carlos. Something’s weird there. And you know, there are others here. I should try to meet them.”
“What? And introduce yourself as Emma Stone again? Some of them could be friends with that woman. You can’t risk it, Alli. This is good enough. You did what you set out to do.”
After a moment of hesitation, Allison relented and followed Charlie outside. She spotted Shane now standing in front of his car.
Several of the cars that had lined the street earlier were now leaving when they met Shane at his car.
“How’d it go in there? It lasted longer than I expected.” Shane pushed off the passenger door and stood inches from Allison.
“I have a name.”
“Just one?” he asked.
“I sort of made a mistake when I introduced myself and well, Charlie thought it best to cut our losses while we were ahead.”
Shane eyed Charlie. “I knew there was a reason why I liked you.”
“You can call her Emma from now on.” Charlie nudged Allison and chuckled.
“Why is that?” he asked.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.” Allison eyed her friends. “So, how do we go about getting information on Laura Young?”
Finley Dawson sat down at his de
sk with his phone in hand. The view of the ocean was outside his window and sometimes when he was stressed out, he could lose himself in that view. Thoughts about riding the waves and soaking up the rays were relaxing. But that wasn’t on the cards for today. There were far more pressing matters to attend to. The first one being Allison Hart. She had seen the video and he’d convinced her not to take it to her detective-friend. It seemed he had earned her trust. But how long that would last would depend on how much she could figure out on her own. Allison was smart. He knew that the moment she found him on the beach the other day. Tommy had made a good choice for himself. But this changed things for Fin and the people to whom he answered.
“It’s Dawson. Thanks for taking my call. I know how busy you are.” Fin peered again at the view from his office. “Listen, we might need to come up with a plan of action. Things have developed more quickly than I would’ve thought, and I’m concerned about your exposure.” He paused to listen. “Of course. I can be there tomorrow. Thank you, sir. Goodbye.”
16
From the office of his high-rise, Carlos Diaz stood with the phone at his ear. He peered out over the city. The waters of the bay shimmering in the bright sun. He regretted all of it now. Tracy hadn’t deserved to die, although his feelings for Harlan Goodfellow, a friend and his CFO weren’t as remorseful. That man had been screwing his wife and Carlos couldn’t have cared less about the fact that he was dead too. None of this was supposed to go down the way it had. Tommy Boyce was another in a long line of his missteps and misjudgments.
