For Better or Worse

by Al Lamanda

  I showed up shortly before eight with two containers of coffee and an egg sandwich in a paper bag.

  The Ford sedan was parked in the driveway.

  The garage door was closed. I wondered why the Ford was in the driveway and not the garage.

  Around ten o’clock, I got the answer when Reed emerged from the house wearing crisp jeans, a grey T-shirt, and white Nike sneakers. He backed the Ford out of the driveway, then returned to the garage and opened it to reveal a silver BMW 750i. He drove it to the curb, then returned the Ford to the driveway and closed the garage.

  The BMW was at least eight or nine years old, but looked showroom new, probably because it didn’t get much use while Reed was in prison.

  Once he was behind the wheel of the BMW, Reed drove to the end of the block and turned left.

  I followed, but gave him plenty of room.

  It’s hard not to spot a silver 750i on the road, even a used one. Reed had eight cylinders and nearly five hundred horsepower under the hood and could have smoked just about anything on the road, but he was in no hurry.

  The slow speed chase took me to the highway, where Reed barely cracked sixty miles per hour.

  I stayed six car lengths behind him for the fifteen-minute ride it took for him to exit onto a road that took us deeper into the suburbs.

  After a few twists and turns, Reed pulled into the driveway of a small home on a tree-lined street and parked next to a Jeep Cherokee. I stayed on the corner while Reed went to the door, where he was greeted by a dark-haired woman.

  Once Reed was inside, I turned and drove past the house and made note of the address that was displayed on the mailbox mounted on a wooden stake, and the license plate on the Jeep.

  I couldn’t risk being seen, so I drove to the end of the block and completely around it to the corner again, and parked where I could safely watch the house from a distance.

  After thirty minutes of nothing, I drove home to the trailer.

  * * *

  Carly, Kagan and Harry were out front at the table when I arrived.

  “Last minute tweaking before Monday,” Carly said.

  “Is Walt ready?” I said.

  “He’s been rehearsed as best as possible,” Kagan said. “If he keeps his cool, he’ll do alright.”

  I grabbed the chair next to Carly. “Who is doing which?” I said.

  “I’m doing Smith and Phelps and Underwood,” Carly said. “Frank will handle Walt, since he’s rehearsed him.”

  “And the banker?” I said.

  “Frank is more suited for that one,” Carly said.

  I went inside and made a pot of coffee. When it was ready, I brought it and four cups to the table and poured.

  “What are our chances?” I said as I took a seat.

  “Fair,” Carly said.

  “There is just no way to figure how a grand jury will vote,” Kagan said.

  I sipped my coffee and called Jane on my cell phone. “Are you working today?”

  “Three to eleven,” Jane said. “Covering for my senior deputy.”

  “Can I stop by for a bit?” I said.

  I could hear Jane inhale on a cigarette. “What you’re really asking is can I do you another favor?” she said.

  “It’s a small one,” I said.

  “Then, I’ll settle for a small dinner,” Jane said. “Around six.”

  “Small?” I said.

  “Don’t be late,” Jane said and hung up.

  I went inside to change, and then worked the heavy bag for a bit, switched over to the speed bag, jumped rope, and did sets of elevated push-ups.

  “We’re knocking off for today,” Carly said, when I took my chair to strap on the ankle weights. “We’ll meet at the courthouse on Monday at ten o’clock for Walt’s hearing.”

  As I strapped on an ankle weight, I nodded.

  “We’ve done everything we can,” Kagan said.

  “I know,” I said, as I strapped on the second ankle weight.

  “Try to relax, Bekker,” Carly said.

  After they left, I went down to the beach for a run.

  I jogged for thirty minutes before making a U-turn and heading back. With fifteen minutes left, I veered into ankle-deep water, and within seconds, my sneakers and ankle weights were weighted down with water.

  The final five minutes had my lungs and legs burning.

  I collapsed into my chair and removed the ankle weights, socks and sneakers.

  My cell phone rang and I checked the incoming number.

  “Hi sweetheart,” I said.

  “Are you coming home tonight?” Regan said.

  “Later, after I’m done working on a few things,” I said.

  “Uncle Walt is acting strange,” Regan said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “All nervous and stuff,” Regan said.

  “It’s understandable,” I said. “The hearing is on Monday. Try to keep him occupied. I’ll be home around nine.”

  “Okay,” Regan said. “Nine, and don’t be late.”

  * * *

  Jane ran the license plate from the Jeep Cherokee.

  “Rosamund Riker,” Jane said. “Middle name Rose. Age listed as thirty-four. Is the address on the license the same as you wrote down?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, who is she?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Possibly Reed’s girlfriend and accomplice.”

  “Clean driving record except for a parking ticket when she was eighteen,” Jane said.

  “Check her arrest record,” I said.

  Jane sighed, but checked. “Clean,” she said.

  “Not if she’s tied in with Reed she’s not,” I said. “Check the plate on the BMW.”

  Jane pulled up the information. “Nine years old and registered to Reed.”

  “He drove it from his mother’s house to this Riker woman’s place this morning,” I said.

  “Are you tailing this guy?”

  “I did,” I said. “But I know the stalker laws and it was from a safe distance.”

  “You have somewhat reasonable cause given the circumstances, and the fact that you’re a licensed private investigator,” Jane said.

  “I know all that,” I said. “I also know this Reed is behind all this.”

  Jane lit a cigarette. “I know you, Jack. You’re not going to stop. At least, let me help so we keep it somewhat legal.”

  I agreed with a nod. “Let’s grab a bite,” I said. “I promised Regan I’d be home by nine.”

  * * *

  Jane was in the mood for real Italian pizza. About a mile from her office is a pizza joint that advertises “The Best Pizza Outside Of The Bronx.”

  The owner was a seventy-nine-year-old man named Sal, and he opened the restaurant some forty years ago after relocating from the Bronx. His two sons worked the brick oven while Sal waited tables.

  We ordered a large pie, garlic rolls, and two soft drinks.

  “Other than surveillance, how can I find out who this Riker is and what she does?” I said.

  “You have no cause for a warrant,” Jane said. “Or a wiretap, or a background check on her employer.”

  “If she has an employer,” I said. “Could you run a search on her employment history?”

  “Tonight?”

  “Walt’s hearing is Monday,” I said. “In a regular trial, he might have a shot at an acquittal based on the evidence, or at least a mistrial. But at a grand jury hearing, despite the evidence contrary to the prosecutor’s case, they’re going to want to know where the six hundred thousand came from. I’ve done the math. Walt loses.”

  Jane looked at me. “I’ll call you later,” she said.

  “Take Sunday off,” I said. “We’ll make it a beach day with Regan and Oz.”


  Jane nodded. “Jack, you can only do what you can do,” she said. “After that…”

  * * *

  After I dropped Jane off at her office, I drove straight to my house.

  Oz, Regan and Elizabeth were in the living room.

  “What’s going on?” I said.

  “I’ve never seen him like this,” Elizabeth said.

  “Where is he?” I said.

  “Backyard,” Oz said.

  I went to the kitchen and opened the sliding glass doors and stepped out into the yard.

  Walt was in a frenzy, circling the lawn and talking to himself.

  “Walt?” I said.

  He spun and looked at me. Even in near darkness, I could see the panic and fear in his eyes.

  “Thirty plus years as a cop and I never took a nickel,” he said. “Never skirted the law, never even fixed a fucking parking ticket, and for what?”

  “Walt, calm down,” I said.

  “There going to stick me in a cell, Jack,” Walt said. “For the rest of my life, and for something I didn’t do. What happens to Elizabeth when I’m gone and they take away my pension? Who takes care of her Jack? Who?”

  “Walt, this isn’t doing any good,” I said.

  He grabbed a patio chair and flung it against the fence.

  “Goddammit,” Walt screamed.

  I took a step toward Walt, and he grabbed another chair and flung it against the ground.

  “Not one fucking nickel did I ever take,” he screamed.

  “I know that,” I said.

  He placed his hands under the table and upended it.

  I rushed him and encircled his arms from behind.

  “Let me go, you fucking ape,” Walt said.

  “Not until you calm down,” I said.

  Walt fought hard, flailing out with his legs, but I increased the pressure and he slowly weakened.

  “I can’t… breathe,” Walt said.

  I bent him forward and placed him on his knees, then shoved him to the grass and placed one foot on his back.

  Gasping, Walt said, “Let me up.”

  “As soon as you calm down,” I said.

  “I’m calm, damn you. Now let me up.”

  “I don’t think you’re calm,” I said.

  “I’m fucking calm,” Walt said. “You want it in writing?”

  I removed my foot and retrieved the chairs and righted the table, then took a seat. Slowly, Walt stood up and took a chair opposite me.

  “I have grass stains on my shirt,” he said.

  Elizabeth came out and hugged Walt.

  “Come inside and I’ll wash the shirt,” she said.

  Walt stood and they entered the house.

  Regan came out and sat next to me.

  “Jeez,” she said.

  I couldn’t agree more.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  While Regan tossed a Frisbee to Jane, Oz patted Molly the cat, who was sleeping on his lap. Cuddle the pug tried in vain to snare the Frisbee, and I warmed up the grill.

  “Twenty minutes to lunch,” I announced.

  Regan gave the Frisbee to Cuddles, and she and Jane ran to the water and dove in.

  I tossed burgers, dogs and chicken onto the grill. “How is it coming with that developer?” I asked Oz.

  “Man say construction start three months after we clear out,” Oz said. “I told him we want a three bedroom facing the ocean on the first floor. I told him we put eighty thousand down. He say to come look at floor plans.”

  “Set it up, we’ll go look,” I said.

  “I’ll give him a call tomorrow,” Oz said.

  As I turned burgers and chicken, I looked down at the water, and Regan and Jane were engaged in conversation.

  Beside me, Cuddles begged for scraps and I tossed him a small piece of chicken.

  On the table, my cell phone rang. It was Carly.

  “Bekker, I need a favor,” she said.

  “Who doesn’t?” I said.

  “I called your house and Walt said Regan was with you,” Carly said. “Our nannies are off today, and Campbell has tickets to the road version of Hamilton. Do you think Regan can baby-sit?”

  “Ask Regan,” I said. “Hold on a moment.”

  Regan and Jane were walking toward the trailer, and I waved Regan over. “Phone,” I said.

  She took the phone, listened for a second and said, “Sure, I’d love to. What time?”

  After she hung up, Regan said, “I have to be home by five, okay?”

  “Oz, take my car,” I said. “I won’t need it until the morning. I’ll get a ride from Jane.”

  We ate lunch, took a swim, and tossed the Frisbee around until four o’clock. Oz took my car and drove Regan back to the house.

  Jane and I lazed around on lounge chairs and drank coffee.

  I told her what happened yesterday with Walt.

  “I’m not surprised the strain is getting to him,” Jane said. “The man has been a cop his entire adult life. Patrolman, detective, sergeant, lieutenant and captain. And now that he’s retiring, he faces the rest of his life in prison. Me, I’d go ballistic.”

  “He’s more worried about Elizabeth than himself,” I said.

  “I can understand that, too,” Jane said.

  “Anything on Riker?” I said.

  “If she works, it hasn’t been recently,” Jane said. “She was a hair dresser at one of those modern super-cut places until about nine months ago. Nothing since.”

  I sipped some coffee and allowed my thoughts to roam free. “The house in her name?” I said.

  “She was married,” Jane said. “Divorced about six years ago. She got the house and the mortgage.”

  “If she doesn’t work, how does she pay it?” I said.

  “Her checkbook has a few thousand in it,” Jane said. “About seven thousand in savings. She should be broke, but that Cherokee she drives is new and goes for around forty thousand with all the options tacked on.”

  I sipped from my cup. “She’d be good with hair and makeup, wouldn’t she?” I said.

  Jane nodded. “She would.”

  “Reed found himself a girlfriend to help him plot his revenge,” I said.

  “Assuming, and it’s a big assumption, that Reed has money stashed away someplace,” Jane said.

  “The police and FBI reports from nine years ago all state that there might be more money stashed away someplace,” I said. “Just because they didn’t find it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

  “So… he finds a woman to help him with hair and makeup so he can pass for Walt?” Jane said.

  “Two can travel more invisible than one,” I said. “Say, on a vacation to Grand Cayman.”

  Jane looked at me. “A couple enjoying the sun and fun is less conspicuous than a man traveling alone,” she said.

  “Can you find out if she has a valid passport and recently took a trip to the Cayman Islands?” I said.

  “That could take some time,” Jane said.

  “I know. Time we got,” I said. “Walt is going to lose tomorrow, be indicted and that gives us time to work with, as much as three months, if the judge is reasonable.”

  “A lot can happen in three months,” Jane said.

  “A great deal,” I said.

  Jane took my hand. “Let’s go inside and have us a swim,” she said. “You know, to relieve some stress.”

  * * *

  Jane and I sat in her cruiser for a few minutes before I went back inside.

  “The transport van will be by at eight o’clock to pick up Walt and take him to court,” Jane said. “Am I going to need more than two deputies?”

  “I’ll make sure it’s okay,” I said.

  “This is the last thing I ever
expected to do,” Jane said.

  We parted with a kiss, and I entered the house to find Oz, Walt and Elizabeth watching a movie on Netflix.

  “Regan called and said she’ll be home around midnight,” Elizabeth said.

  I nodded, went to the kitchen, grabbed a can of ginger ale from the fridge, and sat in the backyard at the patio table.

  A few minutes later, Walt came out and joined me.

  “I’m ready for tomorrow,” he said. “I’ve tossed it around in my head looking for an answer, and I know I’m going to be indicted. As good as Carly and Kagan are, there is no explanation for the money.”

  I sipped some ginger ale and set the can on the table. “Three months, if the judge is reasonable,” I said. “An indictment buys us three months. A lot can happen in three months.”

  Walt picked up the can of ginger ale and took a sip. “I wish I didn’t quit smoking,” he said.

  “Me, too,” I said.

  “What time will they be by to pick me up?”

  “Eight o’clock.”

  “I wish you didn’t quit drinking,” Walt said.

  “Me, too.”

  “Come on, let’s make some popcorn and watch the rest of the movie,” Walt said.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  We ate breakfast at seven and then Walt dressed for court. He wore a blue pin-striped suit, white shirt, red tie, and black shoes.

  At eight o’clock, Oz, Regan, Elizabeth and I gathered in front of my house to await the sheriff’s transport van.

  The van arrived right on time and I walked with Walt to the curb.

  Two deputies got out and one deputy had the cuffs ready.

  “Sorry about this, Captain Grimes,” the deputy said.

  Walt looked at the cuffs and extended his wrists. “It’s your job,” Walt said. “Do it.”

  The deputy snapped on the cuffs and Walt got into the rear of the van. He looked back at me. “See you in court,” Walt said.

  I watched the van take Walt away, and then I walked back to the house where Elizabeth and Regan were in tears.

  “Liz, we have to leave in thirty minutes,” I said.

  “I’ll be ready,” Elizabeth said.

  * * *

  The opening act for the grand jury was FBI Agent Thomas Underwood.