by Robin Mahle
Carlos needed a way out. His partner in this scheme, Franklin Perry, had dumped everything on his shoulders. “Hide the money,” he’d said. So that was what he was going to do.
“Yes, I’m still here.” He said to the person on the other end of the line. “Thank you. I don’t mind holding.” Carlos inhaled deeply. It was the bank in Panama where he was about to move the money. He didn’t know if transferring the funds and closing the US account would be traceable. And while he had people who could guide him with such a transaction, it was too risky to involve anyone else. Carlos was on his own this time.
It was just supposed to be a way to make a quick buck. He’d lost so much in the market collapse years earlier and that money helped refill his coffers. All he had to do was ignore certain aspects of the development project. What did he care if there were so-called “conflicts of interest?” That was how things went down everywhere. Greasing palms wasn’t exclusive to him or Franklin Perry.
“Yes.” Carlos returned his attention to the phone. “Of course, yes, that will be fine. It needs to happen today, you understand?” He nodded as he listened. “Thank you for your help. It is very much appreciated and won’t be forgotten.” Carlos ended the call and dropped his phone into his pants pocket. He peered again through the window overlooking the city’s skyline. If this didn’t work, it might be one of the last times he would get to enjoy this view. The next view might be through a 1-foot by 1-foot window lined with bars.
The police station bullpen was crammed with officers and detectives and Shane sat at his desk searching for a way to get Montoya or Alvarez to copy him on the victims’ phone records. He was sitting on a ticking time bomb. Diaz was the recipient of a wad of cash from an unknown benefactor. And there was the video of the car at Boyce’s office which he felt fairly confident was the same one Allison had seen, a silver Mercedes. All Shane had left in his bag of tricks was the laptop offered up by Lucy Boyce. It just so happened to contain the fuse that would detonate this bomb.
“No time like the present.” Shane marched toward the elevators and to the Major Crimes division where the real detectives worked. “Hey, Alvarez,” Shane approached him at his desk. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sully, what’s up?” Alvarez turned away from his computer.
“Listen, I was wondering if you and I could work together on something. Something I think could make a difference to your investigation into Tommy Boyce’s murder.”
Alvarez creased his brow and studied Shane. His hardboiled features, black crew-cut hair, and square lines made him appear perpetually angry. “What kind of difference?”
Shane cast a suspicious glance before sitting in the chair across from Alvarez’s desk. “I might have something for you.”
“Sully, whatever it is you have to say, you might as well just say it. I’ll tell you after the fact if I’m interested.”
Shane conceded. “Okay, fine. I’m going to have to trust you.” He shifted in the seat, pulling one leg over the other. “I have some evidence pertaining to the Boyce investigation, and I was hoping we could do a little quid pro quo.”
Alvarez raised the corner of his mouth in a brash smile while folding his arms across his narrow chest. “If you have something, you better spill it.”
Shane pushed back his shoulders. “Like I said, quid pro quo.”
“What do you want?”
“Tracy Diaz’s phone records. Tommy Boyce’s too if you’re feeling generous,” Shane replied.
“This isn’t your case. You don’t even work in this department. Why the hell would you want those records?” Alvarez’s interest appeared to grow. He leaned over his desk; his elbows planted in front of him. “What do you have, Sully? And more importantly, how did you get it?”
“Look, you know I have a good friend who was doing some work for Boyce the night he was murdered.”
“The Hart chick,” Alvarez replied.
“She was contacted by Boyce’s daughter who asked for some guidance,” Shane replied.
“I talked to the girl. She didn’t know anything.”
“Not at the time,” Shane added. “Not until she started going through her dad’s things. She found another laptop. It might prove useful to you.”
“You have this in your possession now?”
“Will you share the phone records with me or not?” Shane didn’t have a leg to stand on because one way or another, he would have to hand over the evidence or risk losing his job.
“Are you trying to clear Hart of her association with Boyce? You know her prints were all over Boyce’s office. Does she have something to hide?”
“No. Whoever is behind all this—and there is an ‘all this,’ they want you to focus your efforts on Allison and anyone else associated with Boyce because it gives them time to cover up whatever it was they were doing.”
Alvarez nodded. “I’ll share the records with you out of the kindness of my heart. And I’ll even forget that you used evidence as leverage because I like your style. Now hand over the computer.”
Allison had her own way of getting to the bottom of things. The past few years had been spent catching people in the act of defrauding the state. It took a certain stealthy behavior and learning how to bypass the system to do it. This was how she knew she would make a good private investigator when the time came.
She perched on the edge of her sofa with her laptop resting on her knees. It was almost 6 pm and Nolan would be home soon from practice. She’d promised a home cooked meal, but that promise had already evaporated. Allison had made progress on Laura Young. It was almost too easy. The 34-year-old posted her entire life on social media. There were even pictures of Laura outside the church just before the funeral of her so-called closest friend. It was a shame to see something so personal as grief be splashed across Facebook, Instagram and any other social platform she could use.
As regrettable as it was, it gave Allison what she needed. Laura had just checked into a restaurant that was about twenty minutes from Allison’s house. She wondered if it might be too soon, but Allison didn’t know how much time she had before the people who killed Tommy learned about the laptop. The time was now if she wanted to ascertain the relationship Laura had with Tracy Diaz.
Allison closed her laptop and stood in a long stretch. She whipped around, nearly pulling a muscle, at the sound of the front door opening. “Nolan.”
“Hey mom. What are you doing?” He dropped his gym bag to the floor. “Yoga or something?”
“No. I was actually getting ready to head upstairs. I’m going to be running out in a few minutes.”
“So, you didn’t make dinner?” Disappointment masked his face. “I wish you would’ve said. I could’ve picked up something on my way home. I’m starving.”
Allison moved toward him and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you some cash for dinner—this time. Since I did promise you a homecooked meal.”
“Fine.” He offered a smile as though this result had been his intention all along. “So where are you off to?”
“Oyster Bay.”
“Nice. Are you meeting someone?”
“Are you keeping a diary?” she replied. “I’m only kidding but now you know how it feels.”
“I know you’ve been busy lately and it seems like you’ve been really stressed out. I can’t imagine what it would be like to know that a guy you were working for was killed. I just want to know that you’re doing okay. That’s all.”
“I’m fine, baby. I’m meeting Charlie there for dinner. I don’t know when I’ll be home but I’m sure it won’t be late.” She patted his shoulder and walked up the stairs.
Allison slipped into a red floral summer dress that landed just above her knees. Though she could easily get away with something shorter, there was something to be said for modesty—and middle age.
She walked into her bathroom and ran a brush through her hair that was still down from the funeral. With an elas
tic band between her fingers, she worked her magic and in seconds the massive amount of hair was piled on her head. Allison grabbed her phone from the counter and she sent a text to Charlie. “Meet me at Oyster Bay in 20.”
A text appeared on her home screen. “You assume I’m free? Just kidding. See you there.”
Allison returned downstairs. “I’m leaving. Don’t wait up.”
“Hey? Where’s my money?” Nolan asked from the couch.
Allison reached into her purse and pulled out a twenty. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”
“Gee, thanks.” Nolan laughed. “JK. This is plenty. Night, Mom.”
“JK?” Allison scoffed. “Goodnight, honey.” She started out the door and into the dusky light of an early evening. Allison pulled out of the driveway in her old blue Honda and headed toward the restaurant. As she negotiated through the neighborhood and out onto the main roadway, she noticed a car in her rearview. A quick glance and it appeared to be narrowing the gap between them. Her pulse quickened as she continued to watch the vehicle behind her while staying on course. “Stay calm.” The highway was just ahead and she turned onto the onramp. The car was gone. “Damn it.” Allison slammed her palms on the steering wheel. “I should’ve gotten the plate.”
The restaurant was only minutes away now and her pulse slowed again. There was a slim possibility she was being paranoid or naïve, neither was good. The good news was that it hadn’t been the silver car. She chalked that up to a win.
On arrival at the restaurant, Allison stepped out of her car and assessed the area for anyone who might be watching. “You are being paranoid.” She continued inside and noticed Charlie in a booth.
“Good Lord Alli, you’re white as a sheet. Are you feeling okay?” Charlie asked.
Allison slid into the booth. “I think someone might have been following me.”
“What?” Charlie leaned in. “Did you get a plate? What kind of car was it?”
“I didn’t think to get a plate. I only thought that I needed to get away from it, so I pulled onto the freeway and it didn’t follow after that. All I know was that it was a newer white Toyota Camry.”
“Did you tell Shane? He might be able to get more details,” Charlie pressed on.
“No. It literally just happened. I’m a little shaken up though.”
“I’ll bet. Alli, I don’t like this. What if it was a warning? The kind that says you’re getting too close.”
“I’ve been threatened before, Charlie. You know how many times people stood toe-to-toe with me after I caught them red-handed?”
“This is different. This isn’t some asshole taking disability payments from the state.” Charlie caught sight of the waitress and raised her hand.
“Hi. What can I get you ladies to drink?” She wore a pleasant but tired smile.
“I’ll take a vodka cranberry. Alli?”
“Same but make mine a double.”
“Right away,” the waitress replied.
“Have you seen her yet? Laura Young. Is she here?” Allison noticed the concern on Charlie’s face. “I can’t dwell on the car right now. I’m sure it was nothing. I need to be seen by Laura so I can accidentally bump into her.”
“She’s over there.” Charlie thumbed over her shoulder. “I don’t know how long she’s been here. I made sure she didn’t see me.”
“Good. I’d rather be the one to run into her. I think it’ll play better.”
“Whatever you say.”
The waitress returned with the drinks. “Can I get you two something to eat?”
“Would you mind coming back in a few minutes? We could use a little more time,” Charlie said.
“Of course.”
When the waitress left again Charlie picked up her drink and tossed back all of it.”
“Geez, you must have been thirsty.” Allison studied her again. “Look, I’ll tell Shane about the car after we leave here if that will make you feel better. This is too important. If we can find out what Tracy might have said to her friend, that could change everything.”
“And you really believe you can befriend that woman quickly enough to get her to spill her guts—tonight?”
“Hey, if I can ply her with enough booze…”
Charlie was stone-faced.
“Relax. Please. You look constipated,” Allison replied.
Charlie finally cracked a smile. “Who says I’m not?”
Allison finished the rest of her drink and slid toward the end of the booth. “Order me another, would you? And maybe a plate of nachos?”
“No problem. So this is it?”
“It’s now or never, my friend.”
“That’s the second time you’ve said that. Just know that I chose never. I will always choose never,” Charlie replied.
Allison stood up and headed toward Laura pretending to search for the restrooms. A casual glance at the woman’s table and she stopped cold. “Laura?”
Laura gazed up at her. She was sitting with another woman Allison hadn’t seen before.
“Yes? Wait a second.” Laura squinted as if that would bring Allison’s name to the tip of her tongue. “It’s Emma, right?”
“Kind of hard to forget the name, I know.” Allison smiled.
“I’m surprised to see you here. Um, this is my friend, April. April, this is Emma Stone.”
“Emma Stone?” April laughed. “She’s not Emma Stone. She’s way older.” The young woman looked at Allison. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“It’s okay. I’m not the actress. I just share her name. Lucky me.”
“I’m so embarrassed.” April’s face put that embarrassment on full display. “It’s nice to meet you, Emma.”
“Same here.” Allison returned her attention to Laura. “How are you holding up?”
“All right. Thanks for asking. And you?”
“Doing okay.” Allison peered back at Charlie and looked again at Laura. “Listen, I’m here with one of my girlfriends. If you two would like, maybe we can sit together?”
Laura glanced at her friend who shrugged her reply. She turned back to Allison. “Um, sure. That would be nice.”
“Great. We have a nice big booth. Why don’t you two join us over there?”
“Of course.” Laura stood from the chair. “April?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. Let me grab my purse.”
Allison led the way back to Charlie. “Hey Charlie, this is Laura from the funeral. And this is her friend, April.”
“Yes, hi. Fancy meeting you here.” Charlie appeared to wait for Allison to take the lead on this awkward exchange.
“I asked them to join us. The more the merrier, right?”
“Absolutely.” Charlie scooted down the booth. “Come on in.”
The ladies sat down, and Allison returned to the booth.
“So Emma, you must get a lot of flak for your name?” Laura asked.
Allison shot a glance to Charlie as a reminder of her alias. “Initially yeah, but it wears off depending on the number of drinks.”
The women laughed.
Allison raised her hand. “Speaking of. How about I order us a round?”
17
Four gin and tonics. It was a record for Allison not taking into account her college years. She didn’t keep track in those days. But that was 30 years ago. Nowadays, two drinks were sufficient to take off the edge. Laura Young and her friend, April, had demonstrated their prowess for drinking others under the table. Even Charlie struggled to keep up. The upside was that the restaurant was closing soon.
Allison was just clear-headed enough to recognize she hadn’t reached her objective and time was running out. Laura veered away from the topic of Tracy Diaz on multiple occasions. Maybe it was because the subject hurt too much, or Allison had misread the situation and the two women hadn’t been as close as she predicted. Allison’s window was closing. If she didn’t strike, all of this would have been for nothing. And the subsequent hangover would be an an
noying reminder of her failure.
Allison set down her empty glass. “I have to pee. Anyone want to come with?” She eyed Laura.
“I’ll go. April?” Laura replied.
“Charlie and I can go when you two come back. That sound okay with you, Charlie?”
“Absolutely.”
Allison scooted out of the booth and waited for Laura to stand. She locked arms with her new-found friend. “Come on. I need you to keep me steady.”
“You’re not much of a drinker are you, Emma?”
In her current state of inebriation Allison almost forgot she was using a fake name and regarded Laura with a furrowed brow. “Oh. No, not really. But I’m having a nice time.”
“Good. Me too. It’s a nice distraction,” Laura replied.
As they entered the restroom Allison was quick to do her business before stepping out again. In front of the mirror, she examined her face and blotted areas where makeup had smudged. She peered into the mirror at the stall Laura was in and waited for her to reemerge.
The door swung open and a swaying Laura stepped out.
Allison remained in front of the mirror. “I’m really glad I met you, Laura. I know what a difficult time this is for you. Tracy really was a wonderful person.”
Laura stood in front of an adjacent basin. “I already miss her so much.”
“You two must have been close,” Allison pressed on.
“We were.”
“It’s nice to have someone you can talk to and confide in. That’s what I have with Charlie.”
“She does seem nice.” Laura dried her hands and turned to Allison. “I think the hardest part of all this is knowing I won’t get to have those conversations with Tracy anymore, you know? We spent a lot of time together. I wish I could’ve helped her.”
“There’s no way you could’ve known what would happen,” Allison said. “You can’t blame yourself.”
“No. You’re right. I couldn’t have known she would be murdered. But Emma, I knew what she was facing, and I didn’t take it seriously. It didn’t occur to me that it was all that important. I just figured they were headed for divorce and Tracy was just venting. Everyone goes through that, right? If only I had done something—anything—it might’ve changed the outcome.”
