by Robin Mahle
Milo eyed her. “FBI.”
“Christ on a cracker.” Charlie dropped her head into her hands.
“And now that he’s gone, they’re going to be all over this,” Milo added.
“But I thought he and Tommy worked together for the past few years? I don’t understand,” Allison replied.
“They had worked together, on occasion. The deal was if Tommy caught wind of something Dawson might be interested in, they’d share information. And that was what happened with the Diaz case. Dawson got his license, and from an outsider’s perspective, he was a P.I. You could say it was his cover.”
“Why did Dawson go see the mayor?” Charlie asked.
“When did he do that?” Milo asked. “I wasn’t aware.”
“Today. I followed him to the neighborhood where the mayor and a bunch of rich people live. I couldn’t get inside the gates but why else would Dawson have been there?”
“He must’ve been there to see someone else. How can you be sure it was the mayor?” Shane asked.
“Well, I can’t, I suppose. But who else?”
“Charlie, a lot of wealthy and influential people must live there,” Shane added.
“She might be right,” Allison interrupted. “I was with Laura Young earlier tonight. She mentioned Fin. Tracy knew him and it sounded like they had met at a function hosted by the mayor. Laura said Tracy thought Fin could help her. I didn’t get much more than that.”
“Well, whoever he was meeting in that neighborhood, it was someone who mattered. I followed him back home and within minutes, that silver Mercedes pulled up and the man got out and killed Dawson,” Charlie replied. “What’s worse was that his last words to me were to the effect that Allison was in danger.”
“Great. So now we have to keep Allison safe. Maybe the rest of us are in their sights too.” Shane said.
“We have proof of what appears to be a bribe accepted by Carlos, thanks to what you guys have done,” Milo began. “I’ve been working on exposing the name of the payor to see where it came from, although, I suspect it’s someone with ties to the city. So Charlie, I gather you have pictures of the Mercedes. Let’s pull them off that damaged phone and see if we can get a plate. It’s time to find this car and whoever was driving it. I have a feeling it could be someone who knows the mayor.”
“He was a good guy, Charlie,” Allison began. “Fin Dawson was on our side and I didn’t trust him. Now he’s dead. And what could’ve happened to you…I don’t want to think about it.”
“I’m okay, Alli. Not right now but I know I will be. Fin didn’t deserve to die for this. For some bribe or whatever it was. Neither did Tommy Boyce.”
“You’re damn right they didn’t.” Allison peered through the front window while Charlie sat on the sofa.
Charlie reached for Allison’s hand. “Hey, we’ve done all we can do for now. You told them what you knew about Tracy from her friend, and I gave Milo my SD card so they could get the pictures. What more is there?”
“I want this to be over.” Allison dropped the blind and returned on the sofa. “I promised Lucy I would find out who killed her father. In all honesty, I don’t care about Tracy Diaz or her boyfriend, or the fact that her husband was on the take. Tommy Boyce was trying to help Tracy and it got him killed. Fin might’ve been trying to help Tracy and it got him killed too. I love Milo, Charlie, you know that, but he’s wearing blinders. He has his sights on something that means absolutely nothing to me.”
“It’s not fair to put that on him, Alli. Milo has a good heart and good intentions.”
“Don’t we all.” She gathered her thoughts. “Here’s what I’m going to do. I don’t expect you to follow along this time and I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you chose not to. After what you saw today…”
“What is it? I’ll stand with you. Always have. We’re partners, aren’t we?”
Allison smiled. “Yeah, we’re partners.”
“What’s your plan, Alli? I can see the wheels spinning. There’s nothing we can do for Fin. But we’re still here. We can make this right—for Lucy.”
Allison walked to the front door where her car keys hung on a hook. “If you want to do this, I’m leaving now.”
“Where are we going?” Charlie pushed off the sofa and caught up to her.
“We’re going to Fin’s house.”
Charlie stopped dead. “I don’t know if I can do that. Besides, the cops are bound to still be there.”
“If they are, then we’ll just drive on by. If not, then we go in and figure out what got Fin killed. He had to have something. We need to know what that was. I know in my heart that whoever killed Fin, killed Tommy. And until Milo and Shane get a hit on that license plate, we’re dead in the water.” Allison walked out into the night and the scent of damp earth filled the air. She reached her car and opened the driver’s door. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll understand. This is your call, Charlie.”
Charlie walked to the passenger door. “What are you waiting for? Evidence isn’t going to just fall from the sky.”
Allison slipped onto the driver’s seat and turned the engine, and it promptly stalled. “Damn it.” She tried again, this time, pressing on the gas pedal. The engine fired up.
“You really should consider buying another car,” Charlie said.
“Sure. Right after I win the lottery.” She thrust the gearshift into reverse before pulling out of the driveway. Allison slammed on the brake and whipped her head toward Charlie. “Nolan should’ve been home by now.”
“Give him a call. This can wait until you hear from your son,” Charlie said.
Allison reached for her phone and made the call. When the line picked up, a notable sigh of relief escaped her. “Nolan, where are you? Practice ended hours ago.”
“Sorry, Mom. I’m out with some of the guys. Are you at home?”
“I am, but Charlie and I are heading out. We won’t be gone long. Are you coming home soon?”
“In a few hours.”
“Okay, hon. Just making sure. I’ll see you later. Bye.” She turned to Charlie. “Now we can go.”
“You’re a good mom, Alli.” Charlie turned her sights toward the passenger window.
“So are you. Don’t ever forget that.” Allison made her way onto the main road and toward Finley Dawson’s house. “I wish Fin had just been upfront with me, you know? About being a federal agent.”
“It was his job to make us believe he was just some P.I. who liked to surf. I guess he was pretty good at it. What worries me the most is just where this all leads. I mean, are we talking about a corrupt city official?”
“I don’t know.” Allison kept her hands at the 10 and 2 positions and drove on. “Milo seems to believe this goes pretty high. It’s still hard to face the idea that Fin’s gone.”
“Yeah,” Charlie replied.
Allison made the final turn down Fin’s street. “The good news, if there is any, is that I don’t see any cop cars. Do you?”
“Not yet. Wait until we get to his house. They could be in the driveway.”
“Ever the optimist, Charlie.” Allison slowed as she neared the home and flicked off her headlights. “We might have ourselves a window of opportunity. I hope we can squeeze into it. Not a cop car in sight.” She pulled to a stop two doors down from Fin’s house. “I know it won’t be easy for you—going back inside there. And I’ll be honest, I don’t know if the cops turned his place upside down or not. If they did, we’ll have to hope for the best. It’s gotten us this far. Are you ready?”
“I’m ready.” Charlie opened her door and stepped out.
Allison caught up to her and gently took her arm. “You’re sure you can do this?”
“I appreciate your concern, Alli, but I’m wearing my big girl pants today.”
Allison kept up with Charlie’s determined pace and began, “I want to go in through the back. He has a path along the side of his house. I remember from when I was here before looking for him and f
ound him on the beach. That path will take us around back and to his gate. We’ll be able to get in from there.”
“You don’t think it could be locked?” Charlie asked.
“If it is, I’m sure we’ll figure out a way to get inside.”
They arrived around to the back of his home. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore echoed in the distance. It was too dark to see the water, though a breeze carried the salty air and it was much cooler than inland.
Allison reached the gate first and pulled it open. “Voila.” She walked through.
Charlie followed.
French doors were just ahead that opened into Fin’s office. “What are the odds his computer is still sitting on his desk?”
“About as good as our odds of being mistaken for a couple of Millennials. Are we going to take it?” Charlie asked.
“If it’s there, we’re taking it. And anything else we can get our hands on that could prove useful.” Allison grabbed the door handle and turned. “Tonight’s our lucky night.”
Charlie scoffed. “Lucky for us. Not for Fin.”
21
The coquettish wit and easy-going vibe that epitomized Fin Dawson was nowhere to be found in this empty house. Although, Allison speculated those traits were part of his cover. She didn’t really know who Fin was, except that he was FBI. There was nothing carefree about that. Still, she regretted doubting his intentions.
“Alli.” Charlie tapped on her shoulder. “Where’s the light switch?”
“Huh? Oh, it’s over here.” Allison felt along the wall and turned on the light of Fin’s office at the back of his home. Sand was still scattered on the tile floor and only a few feet away were signs of the violence that had taken his life.
“They haven’t bothered cleaning it up.” Allison looked at Charlie who only stared at the bloodstain. “Hey. It’s okay if you want to wait outside.”
“No. I’ll be fine,” Charlie replied. “I just want to do what we came here to do.”
“If you’re sure. We’ll need to be quick.” Allison hurried to the 2-drawer filing cabinet next to his desk. “I’ll look in here. Maybe you can check the files on his desk? It doesn’t look like the cops have touched any of this yet.” She peered around. “I don’t see his laptop. They must’ve taken it.”
“Doesn’t that seem strange to you? All this stuff—files, paperwork—they only took his laptop?” Charlie started her search of the desk.
“Now that you mention it, yeah. Like the cops knew he was a federal agent and they decided to wait on those guys to come and collect the files.” Allison pulled out the top drawer and thumbed through the folders. “Taxes, receipts, a few case files. Any luck at his desk?”
“Not yet.” Charlie continued rifling through his things. “Cripes, Alli, who would’ve wanted him dead? I mean, he was here one minute and the next…”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure it has everything to do with Carlos Diaz and whatever deal he struck. Someone dropped a lot of money in his lap. What if it was someone with the city, like the mayor? If it was a legal payment, it wouldn’t have been made anonymously.” Allison continued to study each file in the drawer. “I don’t know what the hell I’m looking for in here.”
“Proof, I guess. Evidence of someone who had reason to want him dead.” Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, Alli? You might want to see this.”
Allison drew up from the file cabinet and approached Fin’s desk. “What did you find?”
“You remember when Fin said he wanted time to finish reviewing all of Tommy’s surveillance footage and that he thought he could narrow down the owner of the Mercedes?”
“Yeah, of course. So?”
Charlie held a thumb drive between her fingers. “Well, I saw him put that drive in his desk drawer before we left.”
“Is that what you have in your hands?” Allison asked.
“That one’s gone. It was white with a black cover. This is different and it was in the pencil drawer tucked into the back. It has writing on it. There could be something on here.”
“That means somebody took the one with Tommy’s office video.”
“Or Fin turned it over to someone,” Charlie added.
Allison swung around at a noise coming from the front door. “Charlie!” She whispered.
“I heard it. Someone’s here.”
Allison pulled at Charlie’s arm. “Bring that drive with you.” She pushed open the French doors that were still ajar and stepped quietly out into the backyard.
The voices grew louder and Allison led the way to a grassy shrub planted on the side of the double doors. “Get down.” Allison pressed her index finger against her lips as they crouched low.
“We need to go through this shit again before the cops do.”
A man’s voice, deep and gravely, arose from inside Fin’s office. Allison strained to listen.
“Sadler wants us to bring anything we find straight to him.”
This was a different man who spoke. His tone was higher pitched and less intense. But it was the name he used that mandated fear to shoot across Allison’s face. When she turned to Charlie, she had heard the name too.
Charlie started to push up from the ground.
“No,” Allison whispered. “They’ll see us.”
When Charlie squatted again, she shook her head. “I was right.”
Clay Sadler was the mayor of Tampa. Charlie was right on the money about where Fin had been earlier in the day before being gunned down where it appeared the mayor’s friends were now searching. But what were they looking for?
Papers rustled and drawers opened and closed, but that was all they could hear from behind the bush. The men spoke to one another in a low and indiscernible fashion. Almost as if they’d moved to the back of the room or to another room in the house. Allison had no way of knowing what was going on inside or if the men would wander out back where they had taken cover. “Cover” seemed too generous to describe where they were currently holed up.
“How are we going to get to the car?” Charlie uttered.
The car was parked in front of another house, which as luck would have it, turned out to have been a wise decision.
“Even if we could get to it, they’ll hear it start up.” Allison felt trapped and had dragged along Charlie for good measure. She had pushed things too far and the end result could be disastrous. “Listen, I have an idea, but you’re going to have to follow my lead.”
“Whatever you say,” Charlie replied.
In a low voice, Allison began, “We’re going to walk out through the back gate and onto the beach.”
“What?” Charlie’s eyes bulged into great white orbs. “Are you serious? They’ll see us.”
“Trust me.” Allison pushed off the ground with some discomfort. Her knees threatened to buckle from the undertaking. When she returned to full height, Allison offered her hand to Charlie.
Charlie gazed up at her with uncertainty, but she surrendered and placed her hand in Allison’s and heaved. Charlie managed to get herself off the ground with minimal cries of agony.
A low wooden gate several feet ahead was their only means of escape. If Allison could get them to the other side, they would be in the clear. The idea was that if they were seen from that point, it could be played off as two women strolling along the beach, possibly ending up at the wrong home in the dark of night. No harm, no foul.
“Now.” Allison started toward the gate about twenty feet away.
As they ventured out, the light from the home diminished and spotting the gate against the black of the ocean was difficult. They had to just keep going.
“Ouch!” Charlie threw her hand over her mouth and winced in pain.
Allison whipped back.
“My foot.” Her face writhed and she pointed at a jagged rock jutting from the sandy ground.
Allison checked the doors leading to Fin’s office and shadows crossed in front of it. “They’re coming. Go!”
They hurried t
oward the gate. Charlie hobbled but was doing her damnedest to push through the pain. Allison reached for the latch and pushed it open. She ushered Charlie through first then followed quickly behind. She turned to close it again when the unknown men appeared outside.
“Hey! What are you doing?” One of the men, the heavyset one with the deep voice, jogged toward them.
“Who are you?” The other man, who appeared much younger, rushed to his partner’s side.
Allison and Charlie stopped in their tracks. They were on the other side of the gate—the ocean side. That was the easy part.
Allison glanced to Charlie, who was white with fear or pain, she wasn’t sure. She had to think fast, or they were going to end up like Fin. “Who am I? Well, who are you?” Her words were slurred and her body swayed just a little.
“What are you, drunk or something, lady?” The gruff-looking man with a voice to match moved closer. “And who are you?” He peered at Charlie.
Allison looked at her. Charlie was paralyzed. Allison got them into this jam, it was up to her to get them out. “We’re just having a nice stroll along the beach and were walking back to our house.” Allison narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. “Wait a minute. This isn’t my house.”
“Lady, you and your friend better get the hell out of here. Go sleep it off, yeah?” This time, the younger man spoke. His tall and slender build with a long face didn’t match his falsetto tone.
The older man grabbed his cohort’s arm. “Wait a minute.” With his squinty eyes, he stepped up to the fence. “You live around here?”
“Uh-huh.” Allison raised her arm and pointed to her right. “Down there. I think.” She gazed up at the dark sky as if uncertain.
“Do you know the man that lives here?” He asked, still appearing unconvinced. “You say you live around here. Maybe you seen him, huh?”
“Maybe once or twice. Some kid, I think. Surfer,” Allison replied.
“That’s right. You know where he’s at now?”
“Should I?” Allison asked.
