The Price of Candy

by Rod Hoisington

  She answered her buzzing phone. He watched her face as it turned to a pale frown. Finally she said, “Yes, sir.” She held the phone away from her ear and grimaced. Again, “Yes, sir. I’m heading out there right now. Yes, sir.” She hung up.

  “What on earth?”

  “Triney.” She appeared contrite. “Kevin had called me earlier wanting to know if my meeting with Kidde shed any light on the kidnapping. I told him no, but said we now had Abby for blackmail and that’d be enough for him to get custody of Jamie. I knew he’d be pleased to hear that.”

  “You’re getting pretty chummy with this guy. Why’d he have to know about the blackmail scheme?”

  “He didn’t, I guess. I was trying to pacify him. I goofed. Kevin has been bugging Triney to find Jamie. Kevin let it slip about Abby trying to blackmail Kidde. All that was news to Triney. He wants to see me now. He’s really steamed.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  It was dark by the time she drove into the Ramada parking lot. This was turning into one long day. At least the stress of dealing with Freddy Kidde was behind her. Now she needed to pacify Triney. She needed his help and he was trying to be on her side. In fact, it seemed to her that he had gotten himself too emotionally involved in her problems.

  She spotted his unmarked Crown Vic in the side parking lot and slid into the seat beside him. He was still riled.

  “What was all that buddy-buddy, let’s work together stuff you fed me. I’m working on Abby shooting Banks. You know of some blackmail development and I have to hear about it second-hand from Kevin Olin. Explain yourself, girl. You really disappoint me.”

  “Look, I just found out about Abby’s blackmail attempt today. I couldn’t tell you right away. I was going to take it to Moran. Trust me on this.”

  “I wouldn’t trust you now between 11:59 and midnight. I’m working on both the Bruce Banks murder and the Toby Towalski murder. You know that. I shared some info with you on the beach body case and did some off the clock favors on the unofficial kidnapping. What do I get in return? If you know something to help me, don’t I even deserve an anonymous tip?”

  “You’re right, I’m sorry, you’re right. I haven’t told Moran anything yet, so there’s still time for me to make it up to you. However, we can’t officially talk unless I waive my right to an attorney and I’m not going to do that.”

  “You’re supposed to be so clever. You could have phoned me and disguised your voice.” There was a small smile in his voice; he was settling down.

  “I really goofed by mentioning blackmail to Kevin. I was trying to keep his spirits up, letting him know there was some progress. All I told him was Toby Towalski and Abby Olin were involved in a blackmail scheme. That’s what the money you found in her place is all about. She wanted him out of the way to get all the money for herself, thereby giving her a motive to shoot Toby. And a motive is what you need to solve your case.”

  “What’d you just say?”

  “What? I'm not supposed to say anything. Did I just say something? Just talking about Kevin.

  He was pleased. “Okay. Sorry I got a little hot there and overreacted. Who were they blackmailing?”

  “I’ll try and make a deal with Moran. Trade what I know in exchange for dropping the charge against me. After that, I can tell you everything.”

  “That’s different. I didn’t realize you were taking it all to Moran. You just gave me a break for both of my cases. Does the blackmailee live in my county?”

  “No, I’ll give you his name later,” she explained. “So you can’t talk about the Banks shooting with me, right? But you can talk about the subsequent shooting of Toby.”

  “You don’t give up, do you? Okay, I’ll give you this. We believe Toby’s killer used a revolver as we found no casing. The bullet lodged in his back. There’s a twist. The county lab tech says it’s an old .32 long, an obsolete caliber for a revolver. An odd duck.”

  “I just gave you Abby’s murder motive,” she said. “Do you know her whereabouts at the time of Toby’s murder?”

  “We’re working on it. Obviously, she’s a suspect.” He turned in the seat and directly faced her. “Sandy, you’re much better at this stuff than I ever suspected. Did you think anymore about joining the sheriff’s department? We’d make a dream team.”

  “Thanks, but you’d get tired of me and my mouth very quickly.”

  “Don’t bet on that, Sugar.”

  “Can’t think of any of that now. Finding Jamie is number one for me. Then I’ll help you people find who killed Toby. I can do it too. You watch me!”

  “You’ve got me sold.” The detective studied her intently as she swung her legs out and walked back to her car. He waved as he pulled out into the traffic.

  She sat in her little red Miata, leaned back, and looked up at the cloudless night sky. The scary episode with Toby and her long conversation today with Freddy Kidde seemed a long way away. Some pieces were finally fitting together...at least the pieces of other people’s problems. State Attorney Moran could be counted on to make trouble for her as he’d vowed to do on several occasions. If he considered just his own best interests, he’d drop the conspiracy charge in return for her cooperation and her findings. That would permit him to close the Privado Beach case, and smooth the way toward a successful prosecution of Abby Olin. Then again, he might continue prosecuting Sandy out of spite born of their past confrontations.

  Moran was a worry she’d put off until tomorrow. She needed some down time. As she glanced around at the dark parking lot, her eyes were drawn up the second floor balcony. A light was on in Room 210.

  What was Mr. Nice Guy doing right now? Would she like to see him, relax a bit with him, possibly know him better? Sure.

  She found his number. “Kevin, why don’t you come down to the lounge and have a drink with me?”

  “Why don’t we go out for dinner instead? I’ve been meaning to ask you, but you’re running around so much. I heard about a nice quiet French place across town called Rendezvous. Always wanted to go there. Would you like that?”

  “Now you’re talking. May I run past my place and change?”

  “Sure, meet you at Rendezvous in one hour.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Sunlight streamed through the gaps around the curtains and Sandy awoke. It took a moment for her to adjust to the unfamiliar hotel room and remember why she was in a strange bed and naked with half of her body uncovered.

  At that moment, she heard the shower, remembered Kevin, and her mind did a pleasant replay of the night before. The impromptu dinner date had moved their relationship along much faster than she’d anticipated. Faster and farther. No morning-after regrets, yet she was surprised at her impulsiveness. She leaned back on the pillows and smiled.

  It had been a quiet and easygoing dinner at Rendezvous. They hesitated before opting to eat outside on the garden patio in January, however the restaurant had tall lamppost-like heaters spaced about and the otherwise natural evening atmosphere out there was charming. Charming and private. They made ordinary, but interesting, conversation about their lives and the time passed too quickly.

  Sitting there, she became aware of an unexpected pleasant feeling. This simple predictable dinner date scene was somehow different. Not quite exciting, more like exhilarating, unanticipated fun. She didn’t fail to notice twice he had reached casually across and touched her arm to make some point. Normally, such a gesture would drive her up the wall, but it seemed okay. She was also aware they seemed to be frequently locking eyes. After the meal, they were sipping coffee when he gently covered her hand with his and said simply, “We should be in bed together.”

  That was it. Nothing clever or contrived from Mr. Nice Guy. No corny soft talk to get her into bed. Those few exciting words said everything. He had said what she was hesitant to think. It made perfect sense to her.

  On the way back to the Ramada last night, she thought of Chip and wondered if he might stop by her place in town and find her u
nexpectedly absent. Was she cheating? They had yet to discuss any rules about seeing other people; the relationship with Chip hadn’t progressed that far. Too late to discuss it now.

  Kevin came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. Last night, they made love with dimmed lights; now she could clearly appreciate the body she had felt in the night. He wasn’t as tall or as athletic looking as Chip. Kevin was different, younger, and softer, with an impossibly beautiful body.

  “Drop the towel, handsome,” she said playfully. “Come here and put that sparkling body next to mine.”

  There was no snappy comeback; he seemed embarrassed.

  She raised the sheet, exposing herself, and inviting him back to bed. He let the towel drop and moved onto the bed beside her. His arms wrapped around her and one of his thighs moved up firmly between her legs.

  He was fresh, cool, and smelled of soap.

  She enjoyed it for a minute and then pulled back. “I should go freshen up.”

  “You can’t, I like you soft and warm and fuzzy.”

  “Fuzzy?”

  “Whatever...just the way you are.”

  “What time is it anyway?”

  “Almost nine.”

  “Kevin, I hate to break the spell, but I feel a little guilty indulging ourselves when we could be out looking for your daughter.”

  “Wow, nothing like instant guilt to soften me up. Look, you go take your shower. I’ll have breakfast sent up. After that we’ll decide about indulgences.”

  “Okay. Let me do this first.” The last few hours had flown her far away, so with considerable apprehension she checked her phone for messages from the real world. she had one missed message from Triney, and three texts from Jerry Kagan—all on the same subject: Moran had summoned them to his office at ten a.m.

  Oh, God. No time for breakfast, in bed or otherwise. She could skip the shower and race home to change, or take the shower and show up in a rerun of last night’s clothing. Either way she’d be late. She checked out the white cotton blouse and tan knee-length straight skirt she had tossed hurriedly on the chair last night. They’d pass. She hurried to the shower.

  * * * *

  At fifteen minutes after the appointed time, she found a nervous Jerry Kagan sitting in the conference room adjoining the office of State Attorney Moran.

  “I hoped you’d be early so we could discuss our strategy before Moran comes in.” That was the first time the even-going attorney had addressed her with the slightest annoyance in his voice. His concern was for her facing the state attorney unprepared.

  “So sorry, let’s hope Moran gets here even later. One more slight delay, Jerry. I missed an early morning message from Detective Triney. Need to call him back. It might affect what we’re doing here this morning.”

  She dialed. Triney answered. “Sandy, glad you called back. As you may know, I hang around the Ramada quite a lot in between running around. Good coffee there. I can sit and do some paperwork. Hit the restroom and so on...

  She began to feel warm, turned away from Kagan, and interrupted the detective, “You saw my red car parked there all night, didn’t you?”

  “Sandy, none of my business. I don’t care....”

  “Congratulations, Triney, that’s really great detective work. If you want to tattle on me to Chip Goddard, go right ahead. Our relationship doesn’t exclude seeing other people.”

  “Okay girl, calm down. That’s your business. This is about the Privado case. Remember, I told you we were stopping all white vehicles and we stopped Kevin....”

  She said nothing.

  “...I remembered something I found out later, after I let him go. I didn’t think to tell you about it when we first talked, and I never dreamed you’d get involved with him.”

  “Okay so I’m involved. Spit it out.” Just what she needed, negative information about the man she just slept with.

  “The medical examiner noted the deceased’s eyelids had been pulled down to close the eyes. This is done for a more peaceful look out of respect for the deceased. Nurses routinely do it, cops and ambulance drivers. Some professional usually does it since most people are reluctant to touch a dead body unless it’s a loved one....”

  She interrupted, “I know why it’s done.” She didn’t like where this was headed.

  “The M.E. is a fanatic about crime scenes. He wants nothing touched on a dead body. Not a hair. He wondered if it might be a clue, so he grilled everyone. The medics who picked up the body swore her eyelids were already closed. Chip Goddard said he didn’t close them....”

  “Chip? What does he have to do with it?

  “He was the first officer on the scene. Didn’t he tell you?”

  “Well, first on the beach scene? Never mentioned it.”

  “Did you know Kevin is a paramedic?”

  “Yes, he told me.”

  “Paramedics do handle dead people. Kevin came to my mind later when the medical examiner was asking around and again this morning when I noticed your car.”

  “Is this a joke?” Why was he so concerned about her? “Let me get this straight. The deceased’s eyelids were closed and no one officially involved admits they did it. Therefore, the attacker might have been a police officer, a paramedic, a nurse, or a million other people who don’t mind touching a dead body. The M.E. has been reading too much Agatha Christie.”

  “I know, I’m making too much of it. Not that big a deal. The M.E. inquired about it and then dropped it. Everyone realized it was farfetched. Hey, I overreacted when I saw your car. I thought I should mention it.”

  “I know your heart is in the right place and you’re trying to look out for me. But forget it.”

  “Okay so much for that. Sandy, I know I said it wasn’t my business, but I didn’t realize you were still in the dating scene. You know there are other guys who would be interested....”

  She interrupted, “No, Triney, no. I’m not in the dating scene.” Wow, she had never expected to hear that from him. “And, I’d appreciate it if you would squelch that rumor whenever you hear it. Okay? Thanks for the info gotta go. Goodbye.” She snapped the phone shut. What else could she say? He knew she spent the night with Kevin.

  Kagan had innocently overheard all of it, but there was nothing to say about that. She started in on the subject of strategy. “Let’s get on with it. What we need to do, Jerry, is throw everything over on Abby Olin. She’s the bad person in all of this. She was trying to kill Toby when she shot Banks. She might also be the one who shot Toby when he chased after me. She definitely attempted the blackmail.”

  “I agree, keep the focus off of you.”

  “How do I get Moran to drop that conspiracy charge without revealing the involvement of Congressman Kidde?”

  “Stop worrying about Kidde. You have your own problems. As of now, it’s unlikely Moran will drop the charge against you.”

  “It’s just I sort of promised Freddy I’d help him if he came forward.”

  “And is he coming forward?” He knew the answer.

  “Okay, you’re right. He said he wasn’t going to. I warned him. I just wish there was a way to make Abby mention his name first.”

  “She won’t. She’ll deny ever hearing about him. She’s getting in deeper with her other charges though. The judge originally bought her prowler story and was prepared to accept a charge of manslaughter with probation and give her a slap on the wrist. That was before the victim was identified as your old enemy from Philly.”

  “Chip told me the charge against her is second-degree murder now.”

  “But Moran can’t prove it. Here’s his problem. Banks is your old enemy, not hers. For second-degree murder, he must prove that Abby enticed him down here. But there’s no evidence of that because they didn’t get to her email files before she hit delete. But Moran can prove you hated Banks because of the files you kept on your computer. So he needs to maintain that you conspired with Abby to get him down here. Bottom line is he needs you charged with conspiracy in
order to get her.”

  “So Moran may not even believe I did in fact conspire. He wouldn’t mind nailing me just for old time’s sake.”

  “That is serious. Conspiracy to commit murder can carry a sentence equal to the murder itself.”

  “I know. I researched it. I could face jail time. I have first-hand information in three cases. Might be I can deal. Here’s little Bonaparte now. Cross your fingers.”

  They both stood as Moran entered and the men shook hands. Moran studied Sandy for an instant. “My god, she does have legs. The first time I’ve seen not wearing jeans. Should I be honored for once you put on appropriate clothes to meet with me?”

  She had a pretty good comeback but she bit her lip.

  Moran settled in opposite them. “You’re full of zip in your old age, Kagan. What’s going on here today?”

  “My client....” Kagan began.

  She interrupted. “I’ve been searching for Jamie Olin who, in spite of your official position, has been kidnapped. By chance, I’ve discovered evidence that bears on three of your open cases.”

  “Nothing happens by chance with you, Miss Reid. You say you’re going to solve some of my cases. Just three, what’s slowing you down?”

  “I’ll solve one of them for you if you’ll drop that charge against me. It’s going nowhere anyway.”

  “Do I laugh now?”

  Kagan spoke up. “We’re prepared to give you a complete statement on what we know about all three cases and cooperate with any subsequent depositions. It’s trial-worthy information. It’s useable.”

  “I doubt that. You know nothing we don’t already know.” He pointed his pencil at her. “Now I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to inform the jury of your record of being institutionalized in a juvenile rehabilitation facility. A typical history for a repeat offender such as you. I’ll make you swear under oath to the tawdry activities that took place there and in which you were complicit. Is Mr. Kagan here aware that your teenage promiscuity rose to that level?”