Tears were strolling down Janet’s face. “And all of that, I’ll give to you, too, Richard,” she said, and he pulled her into his arms.
They remained that way for several minutes. The tears had subsided, but the commitment they made to each other was as real as air. And neither one of them felt uneasy. Or obligated. Or burdened.
They both felt remarkably free.
Until they heard a knock on the bedroom door. Richard made sure Janet was okay, and then he said they could enter. Monty and Spencer walked in.
“Darwin just phoned,” Monty said. “They discovered some footage on one of Janet’s neighbor’s security cameras.”
Both Janet and Richard were intrigued. “Capturing what?” Richard asked.
“Not a lot, unfortunately. Just a car near the beginning of the street Janet lives on. It showed a gray Chrysler 300 drive onto her street just after you arrived on that street, and then it showed it leaving a few hours later, after you had left.”
“It was a gray Chrysler 300 involved in that ambush at the mill,” Richard said, leaning up on his elbow.
“That’s why I knew you would want to know,” Monty said. “I remember you told me what kind of car was involved in the mill incident. Darwin remembered too.”
“Was he able to track it down?” Richard asked.
“He was,” said Monty.
“Good. Where?”
Monty exhaled. “That car belongs to Doris, Richard,” he said.
Richard’s heart dropped. Because he suddenly remembered that Doris did drive a Chrysler. But he never even thought about her being involved. It was insane!
Janet was shocked too. “Doris, your secretary?” she asked Richard.
“His secretary,” Monty said, nodding.
“His longtime secretary,” Spencer said. “What you think, Richard?” he added. “All this shit could be about a woman scorned?”
Richard threw the covers off of him, revealing his pajamas. “Get ready, Janet,” he said. “We’re heading back to Tulsa.” And Janet, in her own pajamas, began getting up too.
But Monty had reservations. “I don’t think it’s a good idea taking her with you,” he said.
“Where I go,” Richard said, “she goes. Get ready, Janet.”
But Janet was already hurrying for the closet where her clothes were hanging.
“I’ll get Fiona up,” said Spencer, hurrying out too.
But Richard frowned. “Spence, I truly don’t want to have to put up with that woman’s bullshit right now.”
“Where I go, she goes,” Spencer said. “Just like you and Janet. And I’m going with you. For back up.” And he hurried out.
Richard looked at Monty. “Just ignore her like I do,” Monty suggested. “But you may need Spence’s backup. He’s going with you.” Then he looked at Janet. “We’ll keep Maurice here until I get the all-clear from you guys in Tulsa. Then he’ll fly back on my plane.”
Janet nodded. “Thank you, Monty,” she said. “You’ve been very kind.”
“My brother finally has the good sense to be with a good woman? It’s my pleasure,” he said, and left the room.
But as they put on their clothes, Janet was worried about Richard. Because he looked stricken to her. “How long has she worked for you?” she asked.
“At least a decade,” Richard said, dressing quickly.
“I hate to ask it,” Janet said, “but is there more to your relationship? Is that why she may be jealous of us, or something like that?”
But Richard was shaking his head. “Nothing like that,” he said. “I never fuck anybody that works for me.”
That was a surprise to Janet since he was willing to let her work for him. And they had most definitely fucked.
But she was more concerned about Richard’s state of mind. “But a decade working for you?” she said. “It still has to hurt if she’s involved.”
Richard stopped for a moment, as if Janet had spoken the truth. His face was like an iron curtain of anguish. Because if it was true, and Doris was involved, it wouldn’t just be a shame. It would be a betrayal too. Maybe the biggest, since she was his most trusted aide.
He continued getting dressed without saying another word.
Janet remained silent too.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The SUV stopped in front of the country home on a country road in Tulsa and everybody waited for Richard to make his move. It was late, just past midnight, but he just sat there, behind the wheel, looking at the quiet home and then at the road ahead of them.
Janet sat beside him, up front, but she dared not suggest he move it along. Spencer and Fiona sat on the backseat, and they were anxious for him to get on with it too. But they knew how close Richard was to Doris Wilson. They knew he didn’t like this. At all.
And Richard was anguished. There was no other word for it. Was Doris jealous of his relationship with Janet? Could that be what it was about? He told Janet it couldn’t be, since he never had a sexual relationship with Doris or anybody he worked with. But what else could it be? Doris was the one who set up their restaurant date for him. She was the one he ordered to arrange for that Mercedes to be delivered to Janet six years ago. Was she threatened somehow?
It seemed like a flimsy motive to him. But they all saw that video on the plane ride back to Tulsa. And it was unmistakable. The Chrysler that had been at the mill and had fired shots at Richard and Janet, was the same Chrysler that was seen on Janet’s street the night somebody had tampered with her brakes. They couldn’t see the driver, or what happened when that car was parked. But they saw it come onto her street, and leave from her street, and the plates were undeniable. That car was registered to Doris.
He looked at Janet. He especially wanted her there with him. She was the one who could have died that day. He squeezed her hand. “Ready?” he asked her.
She wasn’t sure if she was or not, but she nodded her head, anyway, and they all got out of the SUV.
With Spencer in the back, the two ladies in the middle, and Richard up front, they walked up to the front door and rang Doris’s bell. Spencer was hypervigilant, looking around, making sure there were no surprises. And then Doris opened the door.
And she looked genuinely surprised. “Richard? What on earth are you doing here this time of night?”
“May we come in?”
“What’s wrong?”
“May we?”
“Yes, of course.” She was still confused, but she stepped aside and allowed them in.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Where’s your car, Doris?”
“My car?”
“Yes, your Chrysler. Was it stolen?”
Doris shook her head. “Stolen? Why would it have been stolen?”
Spencer and Janet both looked at Richard. He asked because, they knew, that was what he wanted her to tell him. That it had been stolen and she knew nothing about its whereabouts.
But she didn’t tell him that. “It’s in my garage,” she said. “Why?”
“I need to see it,” Richard said.
Janet could tell Doris wanted more information. She wanted her longtime boss to tell her what was going on, but she was used to doing whatever he told her to do. Even if it infringed on her right to say no. She escorted them through her dining room, and her kitchen, and then through the attached garage door.
And there it was: a gray Chrysler that looked just like the Chrysler in the video. Only the back windshield wasn’t shot out the way Richard had shot out the Chrysler at the mill, and there were no bullet holes to be found anywhere else on the car either. And they all looked all around the car to be certain. No one found a single bullet hole.
“Who drives this car, Doris?” Richard asked her.
“You know I drive it,” she said. “I’ve driven it for years. Did something happen that I don’t know about?”
“Did you let somebody else drive it recently?” Spencer asked.
“No. Nobody
other than Cary taking it to his shop for some ball joint repair work.”
“His shop?” Janet asked. She also didn’t know who Cary was.
“He’s a mechanic,” said Spencer, and Janet was immediately suspicious. Somebody tampered with her brakes and the guy who had possession of the Chrysler at least for some of the time happened to be a mechanic? She looked at Richard. Did he realize it too? Or was his hope that Doris wasn’t involved clouding his view?
Which reminded Janet. “Wait a minute,” she said.
Everybody looked at her. “What is it?” Richard asked.
Janet hurried to the back of the car. They all followed her. Then she saw what she thought she had noticed. “Where’s the dent?” she asked, looking at the back of the car.
“What dent?” Richard asked her.
“That dent on the bumper. In those videos, the Chrysler we were seeing had a dent on the back bumper. On the right side of the bumper.”
“You’re right,” Richard said, remembering too. “You are right.”
And then, as if somebody had been listening from the kitchen area, a man appeared in the doorway. “Nobody invited me to the party,” he said with a smile on his face.
Richard was surprised to see him. “Hello, Cary,” he said.
“Good to see you again, Richard,” Cary said, shaking Richard’s hand.
“I didn’t’ know you were over here.”
“I just drove up. What’s going on?” he asked.
“That’s what I wanna know,” said Doris. “He’s asking a lot of questions about my car.”
“What kind of questions?” Cary asked. “Hey, Spence, good seeing you again.”
“You, too, Cary. And you remember Fiona?”
“Yes, I do. How are you?”
“I’m good, thank you,” Fiona said.
Then Cary looked at Janet.
“And this is my girlfriend, Janet,” said Richard. “Janet, meet Doris’s friend, Cary Vance.”
But even Doris seemed surprised that Richard would refer to Janet as his girlfriend. That was a first.
Cary was surprised too. “Nice to meet you, Janet,” he said. “And welcome to the family. My lady has worked so long for the Shetfields that we feel as if we’re a part of the family.”
“Thank you,” Janet said. She didn’t know what else to say to that.
“They were just saying something about a dent,” Doris said.
“That’s right,” said Richard.
“What dent?” Cary asked.
“On the back bumper,” said Doris.
But Cary was shaking his head. “There was no dent on this car. Not that I recall.”
But Spencer could tell that Doris disagreed. Richard saw it too. “You remember a dent being there?” he asked her.
“Yes. And on the back bumper like she said. I’ve had it for years.”
Cary hunched his shoulder. “Oh well. I guess one of my guys buffed it out when I had it at the shop.”
“Richard stared at him. “That could be it,” he said.
“But why does it matter?” Cary asked. “What’s wrong?”
Richard exhaled. “This car was involved in a couple of incidences involving me and my lady.”
“What kind of incidences?” Cary asked.
“Bad incidences. The back windshield was shot out, and there should have been lots of bullet holes all over this car.”
Doris was shocked. “Bullet holes?”
Cary smiled. “I think you have the wrong car, Mr. Shetfield. D’s car was never shot up, at least not to my knowledge.”
“We have video of that car involved in both crimes,” said Spencer. “The tag belonged to Doris.”
“I don’t know how,” said Cary. “Unless . . .”
“Unless what?” Janet asked.
“Unless somebody took the tag and put it on another car that’s just like ours. Which could have been done the few days I wasn’t at the shop. I have guys coming in and out all the time.”
“But why would somebody do that?” asked Janet.
“To frame me,” said Doris. “That’s the only reason I can think of. But what would they be framing me for?”
“Or, they used Doris car,” Spencer said. “That would explain why they buffed out that bumper, in case there were any videos taken.”
“And they buffed it out after that windshield was blown out. They had to replace that too.”
But Richard and Janet knew all of that was nonsense. How were they going to replace all of those bullet holes? They looked at each other.
“But what would somebody be trying to frame me for?” asked Doris. Then Doris realized what. “The brakes?” she asked Richard. “They wanted you to think I was involved in that brake incident.”
“And the incident at the mill, yes,” said Spencer.
“Oh, my goodness,” Doris said. And she looked at Richard. “And you thought I might have had something to do with that?” She even looked shocked to Janet. And a little hurt too.
“It was a lead,” Richard said. “We were just checking it out. But I’m glad there’s nothing to it.”
“So am I,” said Doris. “Lord knows.”
Spencer exhaled. “Let’s get out of these good people’s way,” he said, and he and Fiona began leaving. Richard took Janet’s hand, and they began leaving too.
At the door, they were saying their goodbyes. “See you tomorrow at work, Boss,” Doris said.
And it was just about to be over. They were all heading out. Until Richard stopped in his tracks, forcing Janet to stop too. “What is it?” she asked him.
Richard suddenly realized what he was missing. That name. And those Italians at that strip mall. There was Bartoli. And Scapaletti. And Vance.
He looked at Cary. At Cary Vance. And without letting anybody in on his thinking, he pulled out his loaded pistol, and hurried over to Cary. And with screams from Doris, Richard kicked Cary’s legs out from beneath him and dropped him, his back slamming down hard on the hardwood floor.
Spencer immediately pushed Fiona back inside and closed the front door. And pulled out his weapon too. He didn’t understand why Richard was reacting the way he was reacting, but there was always method to Richard’s madness.
Janet was shocked. What on earth was going on? But she knew Richard would not have done what he did unless it was vital.
Richard placed his gun to Cary’s head. “That car in the garage? That’s not Doris car, is it?”
Cary shook his head, nervously staring at the barrel of that gun. “No it’s not.”
“It’s not?” Doris was floored. “What do you mean that’s not my car?” She hadn’t driven it since it was returned to her from his repair shop, but she had no reason to doubt it.
“What did you do to her car?” Richard asked Cary.
“Junked it.”
“And you put the plates on a different Chrysler?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
Doris was shocked. “You did what?” she asked her boyfriend. “Why?”
“Who are they to you?” Richard asked Cary.
Cary seemed terrified to Janet. “Who are who to me?”
Doris was terrified too. “Richard, what are you saying?”
“Who are they to you?” Richard asked Cary again. “Who are those three Italians to you? Tell me before I blow your motherfucking head off!”
“My brother!” Cary quickly yelled out. “One of them was my brother.”
“Wait a minute,” Spencer said. “Are you telling me that one of those three Italians at that strip mall was related to you?”
“Yes,” said Cary, sounding as distressed as he looked. “They hired him and the other two.” Then Cary yelled angrily. “And you killed them!”
“Their asses tried to kill us!” Spencer yelled back. “What the fuck did you think we were going to do?”
Janet was shocked to hear it. They killed some Italians at a strip mall?
But Richard was singularly focused. “What
did they hire them to do?” he asked Cary.
Cary didn’t respond.
Richard slammed his head into the floor repeatedly, yelling for him to answer his question.
And Janet was stunned. She knew Richard could be crude and rude, but she never saw him like this!
Richard hated that she had to see him showing his ass, but she was going to have to get used to it. And he didn’t let up. This fucker knew who tried to kill them. He was never letting up. “Hired them to do what?” he angrily asked again. “Hired them to do what?!”
“To figure out a way to kill your ass!” Cary finally yelled back, unable to bear the pain another second.
And Richard did stop. But Spencer looked at Richard. “Those Italians were there to kill you? We thought their asses came back gunning for us because they were angry with the way that meeting turned out.”
“That’s what they wanted us to believe,” Richard said, “just in case one of us survived their ambush.”
“But that meeting didn’t have shit to do with it,” Spencer said.
“Nothing,” said Richard.
And Janet was in pure shock when she heard what they said. Somebody was hired to kill Richard? Richard and Spencer had to kill somebody or be killed? It was shocking. So shocking that she wondered what on earth had she gotten herself into. She thought whoever did her brakes, and whoever tried to shoot them down at the mill were women scorned. She truly believed it all had something to do with the fact that Richard was giving her some attention, and they didn’t like it. She assumed that woman at the restaurant, that Margo, had hired somebody to take her out. Or some other woman she’d never met before. Or Doris when they got the word about her car being involved. She thought it was all about the women in Richard’s life. She understood that kind of revenge. But to hear it had nothing to do with that? What was she getting herself into?!
Fiona leaned against her grinning, as if she could smell Janet’s distress. “Get used to it,” she said to her. “Especially with Richard. He’s crazy.”
But Janet didn’t like anybody dissing Richard. She liked Fiona, but that little snide remark of hers rubbed Janet the wrong way. “He’s not crazy,” she quickly responded. “He’s playing fire with fire. He not bringing a knife to a gunfight. I think that’s the opposite of crazy.” And then she moved away from Fiona.
Plain Jane Evans and the Billionaire Page 19
