Crime Seen

by Victoria Laurie

  Darren’s eyes got large and he sat back in his chair. ‘‘Really?’’ he asked me. ‘‘Are you really a psychic?’’

  I nodded and played with the straw in the amaretto sour that our waiter had just put in front of me. ‘‘It’s true.’’

  ‘‘That is so cool!’’ he said enthusiastically.

  ‘‘She’s fantastic,’’ Candice said. ‘‘She can tell you all about your future—right, Abby?’’ She gave me a look that suggested I roll with her.

  ‘‘Guilty as charged,’’ I said, taking a big sip of my drink.

  ‘‘I’ll bet you have a fantastic future ahead of you,’’ Candice added, laying it on thicker. ‘‘I’ll bet she can see big things for you. Go ahead, Abby, tell Darren what big things you see for him.’’

  ‘‘Uh,’’ I said, looking at her quizzically. I wasn’t really sure where she was going with this.

  ‘‘Like tell him what you see with regard to his career,’’ Candice encouraged.

  ‘‘Ah,’’ I said as the lightbulb finally clicked on in my head. ‘‘Okay,’’ I said, turning to focus on him and switching the radar on. ‘‘I already know you work at a mortgage company, but the first thing I’m picking up is that there is something to do with...’’ I paused. What the hell was this image in my head? I kept seeing a horde of snakes slithering all over each other. ‘‘They’re showing me snakes.’’

  ‘‘Snakes?’’ he asked thoughtfully. From the look on his face, I could have sworn he knew what I was referring to but was holding back to see what else I could give him.

  ‘‘Yes. Where you work, does one of your coworkers have some pet snakes or something? This has to do with the environment you work in. They keep showing me snakes crawling all over each other.’’

  Darren tilted his head back and laughed. ‘‘Whoa!’’ he said. ‘‘That was awesome!’’

  ‘‘Someone does have snakes at your work?’’ I asked.

  ‘‘No. But at my mortgage company there’s this one large room where all the loan officers sit. It’s called the snake pit.’’

  Candice gave Darren an elbow. ‘‘See? I told you she was really good. Abby, what else are you getting?’’ Candice made sure to mouth the word ‘‘wolf’’ to me while Darren wasn’t looking, and I gave her a tiny nod in return.

  ‘‘Well,’’ I said, feigning concentration. ‘‘Your boss. They keep showing me this big black dog—or maybe it’s a wolf. Yeah, I think it’s a big black wolf.’’

  Darren laughed again. ‘‘My boss’s last name is Wolfe,’’ he said, then seemed to catch himself. Turning to Candice, he said, ‘‘You remember that last case I was working on before I quit the firm?’’

  Candice’s face scrunched up a little and she rubbed her forehead with her fingers. ‘‘Vaguely,’’ she said.

  ‘‘The guy I was investigating is now my boss. I ended up meeting with him the night I flew out on vacation, and we talked and he explained that our client was his former girlfriend and she had made up this whole thing about being pregnant with his kid when she caught him cheating on her.’’

  In the back of my mind I heard Liar, liar... pants on fire, my sign that Darren was telling a big fat fib. Candice’s eyes flickered to me. She wasn’t buying it either. ‘‘You don’t need to explain it to me, Darren,’’ she said. ‘‘Who you work for is your business.’’

  My radar buzzed and I followed the thought. In my mind’s eye I kept seeing one of those street scammers who lure tourists into a shell game where they have to find the bean. I wondered about it, but waited to see if Darren would offer up anything else.

  ‘‘Dick’s a great guy,’’ he said, and my radar buzzed again at the lie. ‘‘He heard I’d moved to Royal Oak and offered me a job.’’

  ‘‘I’m glad you’re doing well, Darren,’’ Candice said.

  ‘‘It’s a great business to be in,’’ Darren said, and I noticed how hard he seemed to be trying to convince her. ‘‘We specialize in providing mortgages to people who get turned down by local banks. We’re helping people own a home for the first time in their lives.’’ I felt his insincerity again and I got such an acrid taste in my mouth that I took a sip of my drink to try and clear it.

  ‘‘That’s great,’’ Candice said. ‘‘It’s really good to enjoy what you do, isn’t it?’’

  ‘‘That it is,’’ Darren said.

  ‘‘Abby, what else do you see for Darren?’’

  ‘‘That’s okay,’’ he said quickly. ‘‘She’s on a date, after all. I don’t want her to think she needs to work while we’re just getting to know each other.’’

  I nodded as I played with my drink, feeling someone staring at me over Darren’s shoulder. I did a quick double take as I realized that Dutch Rivers was across the patio, saluting me with the beer in his hand.

  ‘‘Ohmigod!’’ I yelped.

  ‘‘What?’’ Darren and Candice both said together.

  I slapped my hand over my right eye and said, ‘‘My contact! I think it’s gone under the table!’’ With that, I dove under the table and began to pat the pavement.

  Candice poked her head under too. ‘‘What’s going on?’’ she whispered.

  ‘‘Dutch!’’ I hissed at her, and just then I heard a familiar baritone above the table.

  ‘‘Hey there, Candice,’’ Dutch said.

  Candice mouthed ‘‘Oh, shit!’’ at me and lifted her head from under the table. ‘‘Well, hello, Dutch,’’ I heard her say. ‘‘What brings you by?’’

  ‘‘I’m looking for Abby. Seen her?’’

  ‘‘I’m right here,’’ I said as I emerged from under the table and poked convincingly at my eye.

  ‘‘Did you find your contact?’’ Darren asked.

  ‘‘Sure did.’’ I smiled at him. ‘‘Mr. Rivers, this is a pleasant surprise. I didn’t realize our appointment was for tonight.’’

  ‘‘Yes, and you’re late,’’ he said to me, thankfully going along with the ruse.

  ‘‘Aw,’’ Darren said, ‘‘does that mean we won’t be able to finish our date?’’

  I jumped up so quickly that I nearly flipped the table. ‘‘Oh, so sorry!’’ I said, putting a steadying hand on the tabletop. ‘‘Yes, some other time. You and Candice can catch up for a bit. Mr. Rivers, come on. We’ll head up to my office and get started, okay?’’

  I hurried away from the table, hoping Dutch would be right on my heels. He was, and the moment we were out of earshot he gripped my elbow and said in my ear, ‘‘Want to tell me what that was all about?’’

  I kept walking and said, ‘‘What are you doing here?’’

  ‘‘You sounded tipsy on the phone. I came to make sure you were okay to drive.’’

  ‘‘How the hell did you find me?’’

  Dutch wiggled his cell phone. I had its twin, and I knew from past experience that the two could be easily linked and my location pinpointed via the GPS chip inside. ‘‘Dirty pool,’’ I said as we turned the corner, heading to my car.

  ‘‘It’s dirty pool to make sure my girlfriend isn’t impaired?’’

  ‘‘You should know me better than that,’’ I said, keeping my pace brisk.

  ‘‘Well, I thought I knew you well enough to think we were exclusive,’’ Dutch snapped, and I winced at the jealousy in his voice.

  I stopped walking and turned to look at him. ‘‘It’s not what you think.’’

  ‘‘Neither was the wedding invitation to Denver,’’ he said coldly.

  I sucked in a breath. ‘‘You know I thought we’d split up!’’ I said, referring to the small, not even worth mentioning, teensy affair I’d had with a very old friend just before I’d been shot.

  Dutch sighed heavily and ran a hand through his short blond hair. ‘‘Yeah, well, I was willing to let that one go, babycakes, but now three months later, here I find you testing those waters again.’’

  I stared at my boyfriend for a full minute. Half of me wanted to walk off in a huff and not speak to him for a w
hile. The other half realized that if the situation were reversed, I certainly wouldn’t have been so understanding about his sleeping with another woman. Luckily, my reasonable half won out. ‘‘I never really told you how sorry I was about that, did I?’’

  ‘‘No,’’ he said, leaning against a tree. ‘‘You didn’t.’’

  ‘‘Well, I am, you know. I’m really, really sorry, Dutch.’’

  ‘‘Okay,’’ he mumbled, not meeting my eyes.

  I walked over to him. His arms were crossed and his face was hard as granite. I reached my hands out to his waist and gripped him firmly. ‘‘I will never understand how you put up with me,’’ I said after a moment.

  A tiny smile cracked the granite surface. ‘‘I get paid extra,’’ he said. ‘‘Cat sends me a big fat check every month.’’

  I laughed, then leaned in to wrap my arms around him. ‘‘I love you, cowboy,’’ I said. ‘‘And I’m sorry about Denver.’’

  ‘‘Got it,’’ he said and lowered his chin to my head. ‘‘Now what was going on back there?’’

  ‘‘I was helping Candice with a case. She needed someone she could trust to go along with pumping some info out of that guy. She decided to have me play single white female.’’

  ‘‘What’s the case about?’’

  ‘‘It’s confidential.’’

  ‘‘I don’t think I like you getting so personally involved with this stuff, Edgar,’’ he said.

  ‘‘I know. But I’ve got my radar on high, and I’m going to be careful.’’

  ‘‘More careful than you’ve been all those other times your radar was on high?’’

  I looked up at him and smiled. ‘‘Definitely.’’

  ‘‘And yet I’m still worried,’’ Dutch said as he stroked my cheek.

  ‘‘You have no faith,’’ I said, taking his arm and leading him toward my car.

  Later that night, as we were curled up in bed, my head resting on Dutch’s chest, I brought up the topic of moving back home. ‘‘I was thinking,’’ I began.

  ‘‘Always a time to worry,’’ Dutch quipped as he stroked my hair.

  ‘‘Maybe it’s time for me to head back to my place.’’

  Dutch’s hand paused on the top of my head. After a moment he said, ‘‘You know you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.’’

  ‘‘I know, but it’s really a tight fit for the two of us. I mean, my stuff is just lying all over the place here,’’ I said, motioning toward the suitcases on the floor. ‘‘And besides that,’’ I added, ‘‘I think that the longer I stay, the longer I put off getting back into the swing of things.’’

  ‘‘Okay,’’ he said. ‘‘But make sure you come back to visit.’’

  ‘‘I will.’’ I smiled, then switched topics. ‘‘Did you have any more luck with Max Goodyear?’’

  Dutch sighed, his breath tickling the hairs on my head. ‘‘No. For the life of me I can’t figure out how this guy plays into the waterworks pension fund leak.’’

  In my mind’s eye I saw Goodyear, a line leading down from him to a male figure; then a line leading from that male directly across to another male. I raised my head from Dutch’s chest and said, ‘‘I know that you said his son died, but I get such a strong connection to a son figure. Are you sure he didn’t have a kid out of wedlock or something?’’

  ‘‘None that I’ve been able to track down yet,’’ Dutch said.

  I sat up and focused hard on the extra male energy in the scenario. ‘‘It’s so weird,’’ I said. ‘‘Because when I ask the question about where the money’s being filtered to, I’m shown Goodyear, then a line down to a son figure, then a line directly across to another male.’’

  ‘‘Another male?’’

  ‘‘Yeah. My interpretation is that the money is being funneled through a close friend of Goodyear’s son.’’

  Dutch seemed to consider that for a moment. ‘‘So you’re convinced that he’s got a son who’s alive?’’

  My left side felt thick and heavy, which surprised me. ‘‘Huh,’’ I said. ‘‘That’s weird.’’

  ‘‘What’s weird?’’

  ‘‘No, I don’t think he’s got a son who’s alive.’’

  ‘‘You think there was a son, born out of wedlock, who is now dead?’’ Dutch asked, and I could tell by his expression that he’d have a hard time believing that one.

  Again, my left side felt thick and heavy. ‘‘Hold on,’’ I said to him as I closed my eyes and tried to sort out exactly what my crew was telling me. Silently I asked how many children Goodyear had. I was shown the number one. Then I asked if the money was being filtered through someone associated with this dead child. My right side felt light and airy. ‘‘Dutch,’’ I said, opening my eyes, ‘‘I know this is going to sound really out there, but the money is going through someone who had a close connection to Goodyear’s son. They might have been playmates when they were babies, and now this man is grown and he’s handling the money.’’

  Dutch scratched his head. ‘‘So I should be looking at who the playmates were from thirty years ago?’’

  ‘‘Yeah. Sorry,’’ I said. ‘‘But there’s this connection— I just know it. And there’s a good chance that the parents still may be close. I mean, obviously Goodyear and this playmate of his son’s are close, so the odds are pretty good that the adults might still hang out together.’’

  Dutch nodded. ‘‘Okay, Abs. I’ll work on that in the morning. You getting up at the dawn of time again?’’

  ‘‘No. I told Candice that I’d need to check in with Lori first and make sure I didn’t pull anything before I headed back to the gym.’’

  Dutch gave me a sideways glance. Clearly he doubted my intentions to get back to breaking a sweat. I decided to change the subject by giving him a big fat smooch.

  The next day I took a load of clothes and other belongings over to my place. I wasn’t quite ready to leave Dutch’s, but I figured I’d at least start the process. Next I headed to the office and found Candice already there, tapping away on her laptop. ‘‘Morning!’’ she said as I came through the door.

  ‘‘Hey there,’’ I replied, coming into her office and taking a seat.

  ‘‘Missed you at the gym this morning,’’ she said as she took a sip of coffee.

  ‘‘I have an appointment with my physical therapist this afternoon. I want to make sure she clears it before I hand my physical well-being over to you again,’’ I said.

  Candice set her mug down and hung her head a little. ‘‘I’m really sorry about that, Abs. I totally forgot about your wound.’’

  ‘‘It’s fine,’’ I said with a wave of my hand. ‘‘It’s just the scar tissue’s really tight. I’ll have Lori give me the lowdown on what areas to work that won’t affect it so much and then we can build a program from there.’’

  ‘‘Good,’’ she said. ‘‘And how’d it go with Dutch?’’

  ‘‘Fine,’’ I laughed. ‘‘Can you believe he was jealous?’’

  ‘‘I can,’’ she said with a wink. ‘‘But after you left, things got even more interesting.’’

  ‘‘Dish,’’ I said.

  ‘‘Turns out Wolfe’s company is looking for more loan officers.’’

  ‘‘Really?’’

  ‘‘Uh-huh. And I might have mentioned to Darren that you have a background in the mortgage biz.’’

  ‘‘Excuse me?’’ I said, squinting at her. ‘‘You told him what?’’

  ‘‘Weren’t you a loan officer at that bank that went under a few years ago?’’

  ‘‘Yes, but—’’

  ‘‘He’s really into the fact that you’re psychic and that you know your way around a mortgage. I think you’re a shoo-in.’’

  I shook my head a little. I was aware that Candice was speaking, but I wasn’t really getting the words that she was stringing together. ‘‘A shoo-in for what?’’

  ‘‘For the job, of course,’’ Candice said. ‘‘Here, this is an application. Fill
it out and I’ll fax it to Darren. He said he could cut through a lot of the red tape.’’

  I resorted to blinking rapidly as I stared at the paper in front of me. ‘‘You’re kidding me with this, right?’’

  ‘‘Abby,’’ Candice said, leaning forward and lacing her fingers together. ‘‘If you want to find out about Wolfe, we’re going to have to do a little undercover here. I can’t go in. My PI license is still current, and Wolfe’s going to sniff that out right away. We need a mole, and since there’s just the two of us, that mole’s gotta be you.’’

  I sputtered for a few seconds, then said, ‘‘But why can’t we just dig around outside his organization? I mean, what the heck are we going to learn by going in this way?’’

  Candice sat back in her chair and regarded me for a long minute. Finally she turned to her computer and typed a few keystrokes, then said quietly, ‘‘Were you aware that before he died, Walter McDaniel was the owner of six rental properties throughout the metro Detroit area?’’

  I blinked again. ‘‘So?’’

  ‘‘And were you aware that he had a mortgage pending on a seventh house?’’

  ‘‘Again, I’m having a hard time following you here, Candice,’’ I said to her.

  ‘‘And were you aware, Abby, that prior to McDaniel owning these properties, at least two that I can trace were owned by known drug dealers?’’

  My mouth opened as my radar hummed loudly in my mind. ‘‘What mortgage company did the paper?’’ I asked.

  Candice smiled. ‘‘Wolfe’s,’’ she said.

  ‘‘Son of a bitch,’’ I said. ‘‘He was dirty?’’

  ‘‘McDaniel?’’ Candice said. ‘‘Not sure yet, but it sure looks suspicious, doesn’t it?’’

  I sat back myself and lifted the application off her desk to look at it again. ‘‘What made you look into McDaniel?’’

  ‘‘A hunch,’’ she said. ‘‘And I’m still digging, but in the meantime we need to get to the bottom of the link between these two. The more we poke around the outskirts of it, the more we call attention to ourselves. But if we get you inside the organization and have you root around, we might be able to come up with some solid evidence to not only link Wolfe to McDaniel’s murder but put him away for good with some other illegal shit that I think’s going on down there. Since you’ve got a background in mortgages, you’re the best person to go digging for something incriminating.’’