by Ann Simas
Andi didn’t know how long she dozed before a knock sounded at her door. Groggy because she didn’t normally take naps, she considered ignoring it, but figured it was probably Jack and decided to answer. Just to be sure, she peered through the peep hole. No Jack, no anybody.
With visions of chainsaws and masked figures dancing through her head, she debated opening the door. Her common sense won that battle. Instead, she beelined to the patio door, opened it, and stepped out onto the deck overlooking the parking lot. Jack’s police-issue sedan was nowhere to be seen, nor was his truck. So, not Jack at her door.
Beneath the parking portico, a vehicle fired up. Andi waited to see who was backing out, but didn’t recognize the car as belonging to one of her neighbors. She reached back inside and grabbed for binoculars she used for bird-watching.
Even though the vehicle left the lot in a hurry, she still managed to get the license plate number in focus, along with the make and model of the car. She jotted the information down as soon as she got back inside.
Wide awake by then, she couldn’t decide what to do next. Her headache had intensified, giving her one suggestion, and her stomach rumbled, compounding her indecision. The headache prevailed and she went in search of the ibuprofen.
Back in the kitchen, the pills downed with water, she glanced at the clock, surprised to find that she’d been asleep for three hours. Her tummy growled again. No wonder she was hungry. All she’d had since rising was the double-espresso latté. Just what everyone needed on an empty stomach that was about to receive a dose of pain meds. A leftover mega-caffeine jolt and not a darned thing else of substance. The fridge held nothing more than it had the night before, so she settled on scrambled eggs, two slices of toast, and a glass of orange juice.
While she ate, Andi mentally recapped the conversation with Helen MacLeary. Half an hour later, she rinsed her dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher, debating her next step.
“Is there really more than one option?” she muttered.
Her internal voice answered, No.
She reached for her smartphone and dialed Denise. With greetings exchanged, Andi asked, “Did you ever get the impression that Davis was sniffing around you for a one-on-one sexual encounter?”
“Good God, no! Who told you that?”
If Denise was appalled by her abrupt, somewhat crude question, she didn’t show it. “Helen.”
“Oh, brother.” After a brief pause that sounded like she was hitting the wine bottle again, she went on. “You know, Helen and Clem had that genetic exaggeration thing in common.”
Andi made a quick, internal analysis of what a genetic exaggeration thing might be, but came up blank. “What does that mean?”
“Genetics, DNA, relatives.” When Andi remained silent, she went on. “You do know that Clem and Helen are related, right? I told you that, didn’t I?”
Andi rolled her eyes. She was beginning to feel like she was living in a real-life, LSD-induced Peyton Place, where secrets and deceit abounded like ants on a pile of sugar, and no one ever played straight with her. “No, you never mentioned it.”
“Really? I thought I did. Hunh. Maybe it was Stacy I told.”
Andi worked hard to control her exasperation. “How are Helen and Clem related?”
“Clem’s mom was the youngest of seven kids. Helen’s dad was the oldest. They’re cousins.”
“First cousins and she wanted to do some swapping with him?”
“I know, gross, isn’t it?” More sipping. “Yeah, I know she’s probably more fit than I am, and she has big boobs, but for God’s sake, she’s sixteen years older than Clem, and she’s still his cousin.”
“Sixteen years!” Andi had guessed Helen was older than Davis, but not by that much. “How old is she?”
“Fifty-nine.”
“Wow.” That explained the silver hair. “To give her credit, she looks like she’s about forty.”
“Tell me about it, and she’s never had one bit of plastic surgery, either. She must have hit the anti-aging jackpot of gene pools.”
“Was Clem tempted?”
“Are you kidding?”
“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t have asked.” Andi debated whether or not to fill Denise in on Clem’s admitted almost-cheating moment with Helen and decided not to mention it.
“Well, he wasn’t. Trust me. Clem and I didn’t need anyone but each other in that department.”
Andi rushed on before Denise had a chance to expound. “Think hard. Is there anything else you haven’t mentioned that I should know?”
After a slight hesitation, Denise said, “Andi, I know you’re the one talking to Clem, but aren’t the cops in charge of this investigation?”
Andi vented her frustration by blowing out a big puff of air. Now was a fine time for Denise to start questioning her involvement. She’d probably been discussing it with her in-laws. “Yes, they are, but as I’m the one the dead keep speaking to, I feel compelled to try and assimilate the related facts on my own.”
After a moment of what might have been contemplative silence, Denise said, “I suppose that makes sense.”
The doubt in her voice made Andi grind her teeth. “How did Helen and Davis get together?” she asked, hoping Denise would stop thinking about whether or not she should share any further information with her.
“Clem and Davis went to college together. Believe it or not, before the swapping incident, they used to be BFFs. When Davis was playing happy-go-lucky bachelor, he hung out at our house. One year, Helen came for Clem’s birthday. You’ve seen her, so you know she’s attractive, but back then, she was a knockout. Davis didn’t care about the age difference. He fell head over heels for her and pursued her until she finally agreed to marry him.”
Andi’s mind conjured the old idiom, love is blind.
Denise’s heavy sigh practically rattled the phone line. “We had no idea they were into wife-swapping until they invited us to a swapper party. To tell you the truth, we were not only shocked, but appalled by their lifestyle. I hate to admit it, but that’s probably why I went after Davis so hard on the infill project.”
“So, it had nothing to do with the fact that you owned property adjacent to the land in question in your dispute with him?”
“You have been talking to Helen!”
“She was quite willing to skewer you.”
“I’ll just bet she was! To answer your question, though, owning the adjacent property didn’t enter to it at all.”
“Did you cut off all ties with them after being invited to the swap party?”
“Yep. No more family dinners, no more invites to the kids’ birthdays, no nothing.”
“I discovered last night that Helen was a witness to my car crash.”
“You’re kidding!”
“No, but she hadn’t given her witness statement yet, so Stacy gave the okay for me to meet Jack at her place for the interview. She blamed the whole thing on me, said no other car hit me.”
“That doesn’t sound like Helen. I’ve never known her to be a liar.”
“Not ever? Not even after what I just told you about the property dispute?”
“I guess it just goes to prove you never really know someone. What else did she have to say?”
Andi hesitated for all of two seconds. “She said that it was Clem pursuing a relationship with Davis.”
Following a shocked gasp, Denise said, “That’s ridiculous. What is wrong with her?”
“I have no idea. This was the first time I’ve met her.”
“God, not only does she have an unquenchable sexual appetite, but now she’s a liar, too? This is frigging ridiculous!”
Andi didn’t like to think how that unquenchable sexual appetite might have progressed after she’d left Jack and Helen alone. Jack she trusted, Helen, she did not. “I can’t fathom her motivation. Would you have any ideas in that regard?”
“No, none. You should ask Clem.”
“I called in sick today, so I wan
t to stay away from work. I guess this evening, I’ll go down and see if your beloved will answer when I call.”
“My beloved. He was that, even though he could be a shit sometimes.”
Just that quickly, Andi was reminded of how she’d left things with Jack. He might have been a shit to her earlier, but no doubt, he’d thought the same of her, finagling her way into his interview. “Have you heard if anything resulted from the search warrants?”
“Oh, I should have said right away. Yes, they located a second set of books at Giustina’s house and some paperwork at Benz’s place that the forensic accountant says looks incriminating. Something about a land deal in Dubai.”
“The Deacons had just returned from there. I wonder if it’s the same deal.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“You know, Denise, Clem said that he told you everything about the business because he thought you might need the information some day.”
“I always did think Clem talked too much,” Denise said, her tone dry. “In this case, I think he may have exaggerated slightly. If you’ll recall, I told you he didn’t bring home personnel issues.” She blew out a tsk and added, “Unless, of course, it was juicy. I’m not sure my husband ever fully realized that my mind’s like a steel trap when it comes to that damned business or he might have even told me all the boring parts.”
Andi shook her head. Did everyone involved in this Clem thing have to lie, if even by omission? “He did mention that he didn’t think you got what he was telling you.”
Denise actually laughed about that. “That’s my Clem, underestimating me, as usual. By the way, I’m meeting with the forensic accountant this afternoon to go over what they’ve found. Would you like to sit in on it?”
“Thanks for asking, but I think I’ll pass. You’ll let me know if you find anything relevant, won’t you?”
“For you, Andi, to make up for all the grief Clem and I have caused you, I’ll tell you everything I can, even if the cops tell me to keep my mouth shut.”
Andi hadn’t considered the police would be involved so soon, but if Clem’s partners had been embezzling, or embarking on whatever schemes land developers embarked upon, of course, they would be. Especially now that they were now attempting to take Denise to the cleaners, her attorney and accountant would make sure of it. “Thanks. I appreciate it, but don’t go getting yourself into trouble over it.”
“Let me worry about that, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And Andi?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think there’s any chance…I mean, I know it’s silly, but do you think Gus or Vince is somehow involved in, you know, the contract on me?”
“I don’t know. I’ve examined the information I have every which way but standing on my head and I can’t see a connection.” As an afterthought, and because she didn’t think it was safe for Denise to let her guard down yet, she added, “But that doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”
“It seems unlikely to me, too” Denise said, “especially since they’re trying to screw me out of the business for a measly five million bucks. Why not just wait until I’m dead and save themselves the payout?” She hesitated. “The thing is, Clem spent most of his waking hours at the office, Andi. Who would be more likely to know he’d hired someone to kill me than his partners?”
“Yet Clem swears he never mentioned it to them.”
“I’d love to believe that, but he told someone, otherwise why would the killer say he’s been paid in full and the hit’s still on?”
For that, Andi had no response.
. . .
After Andi hung up, she stared at the door leading outside for nearly five minutes. Maybe the UPS guy had delivered the books she ordered from Amazon. Or the Mary Kay lady had a new eye shadow to show her. Or maybe the driver in the vehicle that had torn out of the parking lot had left something for her.
“Man up,” Andi instructed her cautious self sternly. She crossed to the door and eased it open a crack, as if that would be enough see anything, and then a couple of inches more. Assured no evil ninjas awaited her on the landing, she opened it all the way.
There, on her doormat, lay a tiny, squished VW Bug. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that someone was sending her a message about the car crash that had totaled her VW Touareg, only the Touareg wasn’t iconic enough to have it’s own toy model, so someone had used the next closest, obvious thing.
Andi bent to pick up the crushed toy, then realized touching it might muddle any existing fingerprints. She straightened and turned away, heading to her home office, where she retrieved her digital camera. She stopped in the kitchen, pulled a dish towel from the drawer, and tossed it lengthwise over her shoulder.
She leaned over and took several photos of the destroyed toy from the doorway, then stepped over the doormat and got some from that angle. When she lowered the camera, she noticed the note on the door.
BUGS AREN’T THE ONLY THINGS
THAT CAN BE SQUASHED
The flattened toy was bad enough, but the warning, which obviously had been printed out on a laser printer, set Andi’s heart to pounding.
She took several photos of the door before she bent to retrieve the Bug with the dishtowel. She deposited the camera and the dishtowel holding the toy on the dining table before going back to the door. She debated the safest way to remove the note intact and would have left it there if not for the fact that she didn’t want her neighbor across the landing seeing it when he came home. The only solution seemed to be the pair of leather gloves she had that fit her like a second skin. Minutes later, she placed the note on the dishtowel next to the crushed toy.
With those tasks accomplished, her first thought was to call Jack. Her second thought was to shut the door and lock it, which should have been her first thought. Her third thought was that Jack wasn’t speaking to her, so maybe she should contact Stacy. Another internal debate ensued, but no easy answer resulted.
Andi shivered, even though her face felt like it had its own internal heater. Within seconds, her teeth were chattering. She grabbed the blanket off the sofa and wrapped it around herself, then went to stand in front of the fireplace. Eventually, the shivering subsided, but she still hadn’t made a decision as to what she should do next.
While she was deciding her next course of action, someone pounded on her door.
Andi jumped, losing her grip on the blanket.
The pounding continued.
She took a step forward, but her feet tangled in the cotton folds puddled at her feet. She tripped, going down on her knees first before she fell forward. Her body twisted in a vain effort to avoid hitting her head on the coffee table. The glancing blow wasn’t debilitating, but it did stun her.
The pounding on the door continued.
“Andi, open up! I know you’re home because I saw your rental car.”
She rolled onto her back and took a moment to gather her wits.
Jack hit the door with what sounded like the palm of his hand.
She didn’t try to stand, but rolled over and pushed up on all fours so she could crawl to the door. Once there, she reached up, flipped the deadbolt, and moved aside, hoping Jack would show some initiative and open the door. He didn’t disappoint her.
She peered up at him, wanting nothing more than to have him gather her in his arms, but he was still wearing his I’m-pissed-as-hell-at-you expression. To give him credit, it was quickly replaced with concern.
“What happened?”
Andi explained as best she could, but even to her own ears, she sounded like a babbling lunatic.
Chapter 29
Jack scooped Andi up off the floor and carried her to the bedroom.
She mumbled something incohesive.
“Andi, shut up.”
Andi might have, but at that moment, she had something to say. Despite his terse directive, she tried again. In her own mind, the words came out exactly as she thought they should. “Someone wants
me dead.”
However, Jack stared at her with a frown, as if she were an incoherent toddler. “What?”
She tried again, speaking slower, exaggerating the enunciation of each word. “I said, someone wants me dead.” She couldn’t help adding in a rather acerbic tone, “Besides you.”
“Very funny.” He placed her on the bed, then gently pushed her hair back so he could examine her forehead. “You have an egg on your temple.”
“Chicken or robin?” she asked. He grinned and despite the pain in her head and the crappy way her body felt, her heart melted.
“Glad to see you didn’t lose your sense of humor when your common sense deserted you earlier.”
The melty-heart, gooey feeling evaporated faster than steam pouring out of a hot kettle. If she’d had the energy, she would have smacked him. Instead, she muttered something not very nice under her breath.
“Are we having our first fight?”
Her head was really beginning to throb. “I don’t know! Are we?”
“I was pretty pissed at you earlier, but….”
“But what? You still had a nasty look on your face when I opened the door.”
“You didn’t open the door, I did.” He released her hair and straightened. “I’m going to make an ice pack for that bump. Stay put.”
“Are you bossy because you’re a cop or are you a cop because you’re bossy?”
He shook his head and turned away, but not before she noticed his lips twitch with amusement. He left the room, returning a few minutes later with a baggie full of ice wrapped up in a dish towel. “Want me to hold it, or do you want to do it?”
“I’m perfectly capable of handling it.”
He handed it to her, studying her intently before he put the back of his hand against her forehead. “You feel like you have a fever.”
“I’m not feeling well,” she admitted, positioning the ice pack gently against her bump. “I had the shivers a while ago, that’s why I was wrapped up in the blanket.”
