by Robin Mahle
“What do you mean?” Allison asked.
“It makes no difference now.” Laura started toward the door.
Allison was losing her. She had to act. “No, hang on.” She gently grabbed Laura’s arm. “Was she in some kind of danger?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know…” Laura trailed off. “Do you know who her husband is?”
Allison nodded.
“He was into some stuff—I don’t know—stuff that made Tracy think twice. I mean, look, she wasn’t perfect by any means. But she was a good person and what Carlos was doing…”
“Did he hurt her?” Allison asked.
“No. Nothing like that. It was his business. He, well, like a lot of developers, right? They’re all a little shady. Carlos was the shadiest and Tracy knew it.” Laura sighed. “Never mind. We should get back out there.”
“Sure. Yeah. You’re right. But I thought you and Carlos were good friends the way you consoled him at the funeral,” Allison said.
Laura stopped dead. “I’m sorry, what?”
Allison overstepped and needed to salvage this—fast. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything…you know, we should get back. Maybe we can order one more drink before last call?” She locked arms again with Laura and the two returned.
Charlie appeared to study Allison’s demeanor as though wondering if her friend had been successful.
Allison lent a subtle nod before slipping back into the booth. “So, should we order a final round?”
“Way ahead of you,” Charlie replied.
The idea of clinging to a toilet bowl for the rest of the night wasn’t appealing and Allison was sure that was where she was headed. Nursing the final drink would make no difference. Her fate was sealed.
The conversation was about anything and everything except what Allison had wanted to discuss. At least she knew that Tracy was aware of Carlos’s dealings. And getting evidence of the bank account was probably the catalyst that sealed her own fate.
Laura glanced at her phone. “It’s getting late and I think they’re about to close. We should get out of here.”
“Probably best,” April replied. “I’ll get us an Uber.” She snatched her phone and requested the Uber on her app. “Says two minutes. Let’s go wait, Laura.”
“Okay.” Laura stepped out of the booth. “How are you two getting home?”
“Same.” Allison looked at Charlie. “Uber?”
“Oh yeah. We’ll walk out with you and order one.”
Allison led the way through the virtually empty restaurant. “I can’t tell you how much I needed this tonight, ladies. Thank you.”
“I’d be happy to do it again sometime, Emma. You’re a hoot,” Laura replied.
They were in a trendy part of town that was surrounded by other hot night spots, and Ubers and Lyfts lined the streets. Allison looked on before she pulled Laura aside. “I’d love to grab drinks again but if you’d like to have coffee and just unload, I’m here for that too.”
“Thanks, Emma. I’ll definitely take you up on that. I bet Tracy thought you were a hoot too.”
“I don’t know about that. She was pretty great, though.”
“You never did tell me exactly how you two met,” Laura said.
Allison promptly sobered. She had been vague on purpose because of course, she had no idea what Tracy Diaz was like or how she could possibly have come to know her. Allison recalled her initial response when she had mentioned a charity hoping that would suffice. “I think I mentioned before. It was through her charity.” Allison had no idea what sort of charity but assumed a woman of Tracy’s standing would have been involved in more than one.
Laura returned a smile. “Of course. Tracy loved the children. She couldn’t have any, you know.”
“I didn’t know that,” Allison replied. “So, the kids with Carlos?”
“Her step kids,” Laura replied.
At that moment April tapped Laura on the shoulder. “That’s our Uber.”
“Well, I would love to meet up again soon, Emma. Call me anytime.” She reached for her cell. “What’s your number? I’ll put it in my phone now.”
Allison relayed her phone number. “I look forward to us becoming fast friends. Get home safely.” She offered a tender embrace and watched the two women step inside their ride.
As it pulled away Charlie called out, “Our ride is here, too, Alli.”
“Good. Oh, hey, remind me to change my voicemail.”
“Why is that?” Charlie asked.
“Because I just gave her my cell number. The name, Allison Hart, can’t be on the message.”
“Good catch. Oh, by the way, I like how I didn’t get an alias. Just you.”
Allison started toward the Uber. “Only because I was the one working for Tommy Boyce. I didn’t want to risk it.”
“Sure. Yeah, I get it. I didn’t rank highly enough to warrant protection.” Charlie laughed. “Just get in the car.”
“Why don’t you crash at my place tonight?” Allison said. “We’ll come back in the morning for the cars.”
“Oh good. That means I won’t have to clean my toilet. You know that’s where we’re both headed, right?”
“Yep.”
Allison had gone through the entire charade with Laura Young in an attempt to determine whether Tracy Diaz had ever made mention of Tommy Boyce. So far, that was still up in the air.
“Thanks for doing this with me tonight. We’ll pay for it tomorrow but we’re getting closer to finding answers,” Allison said.
“It doesn’t feel like it.” Charlie walked to the fridge. “You want some water?” She grabbed two bottles and returned to the kitchen island, handing one to Allison.
“Thanks. I should let Shane know we’re back and ask if he got the phone records. I think this will start coming together if we see that Tracy was working with Boyce. It could explain why they were killed.”
“I don’t doubt Tracy was murdered because of what she might’ve known about her husband. I’m not sure I feel the same about Boyce. Who would want to draw that kind of attention? Three murders? That’s excessive even by corporate standards. Anything more than one is just asking for trouble.”
Allison cracked a tender smile. “Maybe so. I thought that by getting Laura to talk she’d tell us more about Tracy’s final few days. But she wasn’t interested.”
“Well, you did say she discussed their marriage and that Tracy thought she was in some kind of trouble.”
“That’s not enough.” She pressed Shane’s contact on her phone. “If Shane got the records it might not matter. We’ll be able to see first-hand if the two were talking.” Allison held the phone to her ear. “Hey, Shane. It’s Allison. Charlie and I are back at my house.”
“How did it go with the friend?” He asked.
“Not as well as I would’ve hoped. She mentioned Tracy was concerned about Carlos and felt she might be in trouble. But I’m kind of hoping you have something more concrete? Like her phone records?”
“I convinced Alvarez it was in his interest to share the details in exchange for the Boyce laptop,” Shane replied.
“Really? I thought you were required to hand it over anyway.”
He stammered. “I was. I did. Point being, Alvarez ponied up copies of the calls. I’m coming over now and I’ll bring them with me.”
Allison set down her phone. “He has a copy of some records. Didn’t say if it was Tracy’s or Tommy’s but he’s coming over to give us a look.”
“Thank the Lord. I don’t think I could handle going out with those ladies again. I have no idea how they could drink so much and not be flat out on the ground,” Charlie replied.
“Because they’re in their 30s. We’re not,” Allison replied.
“I feel like I’m 30. Does that count?” Charlie asked.
“Sadly, no.” Allison’s attention was diverted when Nolan shuffled into the kitchen.
He ran his hands through his thick wavy hair and squinted from the ligh
t. “What did you say, Mom?”
“Nothing, honey. I’m sorry we woke you up. Charlie and I are just sobering up. We had one drink too many.”
“That’s right,” Charlie began. “We’re a cautionary tale, Nolan. Take note.”
“You said something about phone records or something. Whose? The guy you were working for?” Nolan grew more alert as he shuffled in. “What’s going on, Mom? Are you in some kind of danger?”
“No. No, honey. We’re not in any danger. Charlie and I were just talking about Mr. Boyce. What happened to him has nothing to do with me.”
“Your mom’s right. We’re just talking,” Charlie said.
Nolan delivered her a sideways glance before eyeing his mother again and a knock on the door seemed to preempt another line of questioning. “Who’s that this late at night?”
“My friend, Shane. The detective? You remember him, right?” Allison started toward the door. “Nolan, honey, you should go back to bed. Please. Everything’s fine.”
“Your cop-friend is here and you’re talking about a dead guy. I might be half-asleep but I’m not stupid, Mom. I’m not a kid anymore, okay? I’m staying right here.” He dropped onto the kitchen stool and folded his arms in defiance.
Allison pursed her lips before approaching the front door to open it. “That was fast. We’re having quite the gathering. I should’ve set out crudités.”
“Cruda what?” Shane walked inside.
“Never mind.” Allison walked back into the kitchen with the slightest sway in her step.
“Are you drunk?” Shane followed her.
“It’s a long story,” Charlie replied.
Nolan cleared his throat. “Um, hello? If I was drunk, you’d be having a hissy fit right now.”
Allison peered at him. “First of all, I’m an adult who’s old enough to drink. You’re not. Besides, I drank for a good reason.”
“Nolan, hey man. Good to see you.” Shane offered his hand.
Nolan eyed him for a moment before accepting his greeting. “So you’re in on all this too?”
“That depends. What do you know about it?”
“He doesn’t know anything except that we’re not in any danger.” Allison walked to the fridge. “Beer?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
“I’ll take one too,” Nolan said.
“Nice try, kid.” Allison handed Shane a bottle of Corona.
Shane cast a tentative glance to Nolan and back to Allison. “So, can we talk about how things went tonight?”
Nolan pulled upright and spun around to him. “Yes, let’s.”
“Nolan, come on. This isn’t something you need to be concerned with,” Allison began. “I’d appreciate it if you let the three of us talk. I’m still your mother.”
Nolan scrunched up his face and held her gaze before yielding. “Fine.” He pushed off the stool. “But I swear, Mom, if I find out you’re in some kind of trouble...”
“That’s not going to happen, Nolan, okay? I give you my word,” Shane said. “Your mom and Charlie are just helping me on a case and that’s all this is.”
“I guess I’ll have to trust you then.” Nolan turned away in a huff and retreated to his room.
“Okay, now we can discuss the reason you’re here,” Allison said. “I’ll tell you what we know if you tell us what you know.”
Shane pulled up a stool and retrieved the copy of Tracy’s phone records. “I highlighted Tracy Diaz’s calls to Boyce.” He peered at Allison. “Take a look at the dates. The two were in fairly constant contact.”
“Like they were hatching a plan,” Charlie said. “It’s like what Milo said, right, Alli? About the bribe?”
“This confirms it to me,” Allison said. “That must have been how Boyce ended up with copies of the development contracts and that bank statement. She was feeding him details and he was taking them to Milo until someone put a stop to it.”
“That was my first thought,” Shane replied. “But since they’re both dead we’ll have to get the answer for ourselves.” He turned to Allison. “How did it go with the girlfriend? What did you say her name was?”
“Laura Young. It went well enough, I guess. Could’ve been worse, but it does seem like Tracy was looking for a way out of her marriage and possibly with whatever it was she had set up with Boyce.”
“What if this was all nothing more than an attempt at blackmail?” Shane asked.
“Possibly, but why involve Milo then? Unless she didn’t know Tommy was taking evidence to the D.A.’s office. Laura said Tracy was afraid of Carlos. I asked if he abused her and she insisted it wasn’t like that. But I’d say that it’s pretty clear she was working with Tommy to either force Carlos’s hand in a divorce or maybe…”
“Turn him in to the cops,” Charlie finished.
“Something like that,” Allison replied. “I have Laura’s contact information and I’ll be making a call to her tomorrow to set up a lunch. I don’t want too much time to pass so I need to hit her hard for information quickly. I still think she knows more than she’s saying. And it won’t be long before Alvarez or Montoya discover what was on Tommy’s laptop from his house. They’ll start talking to everyone in Tracy’s circle, including Laura Young. She might not say much after that especially if her lawyer has anything to say about it.”
“How do you want to handle Milo?” Shane asked.
“He says he’s working on something big and he told me what Tommy was doing for him,” Allison began. “If the detectives do find what we think is receipt of a bribe on that computer, Milo might want to know about it. It could put an abrupt end to his investigation.”
18
When Allison last spoke to Milo he pleaded for time and she obliged. Since that conversation, she had discovered that Tracy Diaz was looking for a way to get back at her husband and get out of her marriage. Boyce appeared to be the means to make that happen. Now that the Tampa PD detectives were on the verge of finding out what they both already knew; something was going to have to happen to drive this investigation to its conclusion. Whatever that might be.
Allison sipped on her iced tea and gazed through the restaurant window at the bay. A weary smile teased her lips when she spotted her friend. “Milo. I appreciate you meeting with me.”
“I appreciate you coming here. It’s best if our association stays outside the purview of the folks in my office. For the time being.” Milo pulled out a chair and sat down across from Allison.
“Believe me I understand. I’ve done as we discussed, and I’ve told you what we know. Do you have anything for me?” she asked.
“I am grateful for the advanced warning of what our friends at the Tampa police department have in their possession.”
“Milo, how much were you aware of what Tracy Diaz was trying to gather against her husband? And what part did Tommy play?”
The waiter interrupted. “Afternoon. What can I get you both?” The young bearded man smiled.
“I’ll take the bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries,” Allison said.
“That sounds good. I’ll have the same. And a Coke,” Milo added.
“Right away.” With a smile, the waiter retreated.
“The time for stalling is over. Our time’s up, Milo,” Allison said.
“Here’s what I can tell you. I was made aware of dealings from Carlos Diaz that were of an illegal nature.”
“I’m familiar,” Allison replied.
“Yes, but I’ve been working on this for some time. It was Tommy who kicked it into high gear when he did what I asked and went to work for Carlos. See, I needed him to get close to the man, as you know. Tommy was listening in on a conversation Mrs. Diaz was having on her phone. He’d been following her for days, handing over little tidbits of information to Carlos. You know, just enough to assuage him that Tommy was doing his job. Well, this particular conversation held some very juicy details regarding a payment Carlos had deposited into a bank account Mrs. Diaz had previously not been privy to
. I don’t know how she found it, but she seemed quite a resourceful woman. Tommy knew then he was going to have to work his way into meeting Mrs. Diaz. And as always, Tommy executed his duties with supreme aptitude. He gained her trust and the two started working together to get proof of this money and well, as they say, the rest is history.”
“Was Harlan Goodfellow the one who told her about this money?” Allison asked.
“I’m of the opinion that yes, he must’ve been. As you know, Harlan Goodfellow, who was Carlos’s CFO and closest confidant, was very much in-the-know and most likely relayed everything to his mistress.”
“I see. And Tommy came to you with the details?”
“He did. He knew what I was trying to build against Carlos. So, he played into Tracy’s insecurities and her fear of being found out. He befriended her, honestly. He convinced Tracy Diaz that he would help her use this evidence in the divorce proceedings and…”
“And for you in a criminal one,” she replied.
“As I said, this had been months in the making, Allison. A detailed operation involving Tommy and myself along with a man by the name of Franklin Perry.”
“Wait. His prints were found at Tommy’s office. How does he fit into this?”
“He was a previous business partner who we discovered was also involved in a few shady deals. Franklin offered to cooperate to help us get Carlos with the understanding my office would be lenient toward his own shifty dealings.”
Allison leaned over the table. “Milo, how confident are you that Franklin Perry’s people weren’t the ones who killed the happy couple or Tommy Boyce?”
“You want the truth?” He leaned closer in response. “It is something that had crossed my mind a time or two. That said, I haven’t found anything to prove it one way or the other.”
“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,” Allison replied.
“No, ma’am. It does not.”
Milo had dropped another bomb and Allison was already shell-shocked. All she had been looking for was some extra cash until she could get her license and start her own agency. She would’ve laughed at the absurdity of it all had it not been so heart-wrenching.
