Dirty Money

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Dirty Money Page 10

by Liliana Hart


  Jack parked and I got out of the Tahoe and pushed my sunglasses on top of my head. The front door of the building opened before we could get to it, and a man who looked vaguely familiar stood there.

  “Hey, Sheriff,” he said. “Thought you might be coming by. Come on in.”

  Jack shook hands with the guy and said, “Thanks, Walker. We won’t take up much of your time. This is Dr. Graves.”

  “Chance Walker,” he said. He was a big guy, several inches over six feet, and he was in good shape. His hair was blond and well cut and his smile a blinding white. He had frat boy written all over him, but he was personable and probably good for business.

  I held out my hand to shake his. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” he said. “I’ve enjoyed reading about you in the paper. Looks like you’ve been busy lately.”

  “I’ve definitely been busy, but I don’t read the paper. The stories have a tendency to be inflated.”

  Floyd Parker had been a blight on society since birth. Unfortunately, he and I had a past, and he never let me forget it. Unfortunately, Floyd had the King George Gazette as his platform.

  “Floyd Parker is a horse’s ass,” Walker said. “But no one takes him too seriously. I notice he didn’t write a story about how you punched him in the face.”

  I grinned at that. “I take interfering with an investigation seriously.”

  “I’ll remember that,” he said and ushered us inside.

  There was nothing special about the inside of the building. It was a simple structure with utilitarian gray carpet and light gray walls. There was a counter for customers and a woman sitting behind it on a barstool typing on a computer. There was a door on each side of the counter, and the one on the left was a bathroom, so I assumed the one on the right led to the back of the building.

  “We’ve actually got a couple of trucks out this morning doing a big move,” Walker said, “but we’ve got enough employees now that we don’t have to be on every job. This is Shirleen. She keeps us organized.”

  Shirleen nodded and then went back to her computer. She was somewhere in her mid-forties, wore her makeup heavy, and her hair big. She looked like she didn’t take crap from anybody.

  “Y’all can come on back to my office,” he said, leading us through the door to the right side of the counter. There was a long hallway with a series of doors on the left and a glass door at the very end that led to the truck lot at the back. “Gabe’s on a phone call, but he’ll be in as soon as he can. Do you want water or anything?”

  “We’re fine,” Jack answered. “Do you mind if we look at Roy’s office first?”

  “Sure,” Walker said, leading us to the third door on the left. “Your guys called us last night to serve the warrant, so they’ve already been inside. I came out to unlock the doors for them.”

  “We appreciate it,” Jack said.

  “Hey, I know how these things go,” he said. “Best thing to do is to cooperate. We’ve got a business to run.”

  The door wasn’t locked and Walker turned the knob and pushed the door open. I felt a chill rise across my skin the second I passed over the threshold. I seriously had my doubts that it was Nina who had a schedule and a place for everything.

  The room was cold, just like the house had been. The walls were white and unadorned. Not one picture or personal item could be found. The desktop held a pencil sharpener, and a stapler. Everything was precisely aligned. There was a bookshelf with several three-inch binders, and they’d all been labeled by name and year with a label maker.

  “Does it always look like this?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” Walker said. “Roy hates clutter of any kind. His nickname at the station is Mr. Clean. His locker and everything are always in order. He gets really upset if something is out of place. Back when he was a rookie the older guys used to move his stuff just for the hell of it, but they laid off after a couple of rounds of broken noses and stitches.”

  “Yikes,” I said.

  We left Roy’s office and followed Walker into the office next door. It was the same size as Roy’s, but it couldn’t have looked more different. The walls were painted a soft gray, and he had lots of pictures—mostly of him on the golf course or hunting big game. There were knickknacks and old fire trucks set on top of the shelves, and his bookshelf was full of well-read paperbacks with creased spines. I saw one small-framed photograph of him with a pretty woman and small child.

  “Y’all have a seat,” Walker said, moving behind his desk to sit in the chair there. “We just couldn’t believe it when we got the news about Nina. I don’t know how Roy’s going to get through it. He worshipped her.”

  “Did Roy tell you it was homicide?” I asked.

  “He mentioned that when I talked to him last night,” Walker said. “He called and let us know you’d probably be stopping by. He said someone poisoned her. I can tell you right now there’s no way Roy did something like that.”

  “He came into shift late on Saturday?” Jack asked.

  Walker blew out a breath. “Yeah, well,” he said. “I know that doesn’t look good for Roy. But I’m sure he told you the reason. Gina’s never been anything but trouble for any guy at the station. I tried to warn him, but…” He shrugged and gave us that “boys will be boys” look. “I’ll tell you one thing, I’d bet my whole salary she isn’t pregnant.”

  “You talking about Gina?” a man asked from the doorway.

  He was a couple of inches taller than me, maybe five ten, and his head was shaved to cover his natural baldness. He had a short dark beard that was flecked with gray. He was muscular and stocky, and he wore khakis and a red Firehouse Movers polo with the logo over the breast pocket.

  “Hey, Sheriff,” he said, coming to shake Jack’s hand. “Don’t get up.” And then he turned to me and introduced himself. “Gabe Roland.”

  “Dr. Graves,” I said.

  “I recognize your picture from the paper,” he said, leaning against the edge of Walker’s desk. “Heard all about how you punched Floyd Parker in that smug face of his. He’s a horse’s ass.”

  I couldn’t help it. I smiled again. I was starting to think maybe the guys at the firehouse weren’t all that bad after all.

  “You know Gina?” I asked.

  Gabe put both hands over his heart and gave an aggrieved look. “I’m just one of many hearts she’s left in the dust.”

  “I warned you too,” Walker said, smiling. “Nobody listens.”

  “Gina’s one of those lessons you have to learn for yourself. Of course, Roy’s going to be paying for that lesson a hell of a lot longer than the rest of us.”

  “Nah,” Walker said. “No way she’s telling the truth. A kid would ruin her plans.”

  “Did you know Roy’s wife, Nina?” Jack asked, getting the conversation back on track.

  “Not really,” Walker said. “First time we met her was at the wedding. Surprised the hell out of all of us. We didn’t figure Roy would ever get married again.”

  “He was married before?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Walker said. “To Caroline. She and Roy had only been divorced maybe a year before he and Nina married.”

  “The first wife didn’t get part of Roy’s share in this business?” Jack asked.

  “Nah,” Gabe said. “We started this place after his divorce. Actually, it was the money Nina got from her first husband’s life insurance that gave us the collateral we needed.”

  I raised my brows at that, and felt more sorry for Nina than I already did. Roy might not have abused her physically, or maybe he did since people rarely saw Nina. Maybe that was the reason she stayed in the house all the time. But if he didn’t abuse her physically, there was no doubt in my mind he abused her verbally or emotionally. My first impression of Roy was right. He was a bully, and when he wanted something he’d strong-arm anyone he needed to so he could get what he wanted. And it was looking like he’d needed Nina for her money.

  “Did Nina ever come her
e to see Roy?” Jack asked.

  “No way,” Gabe said. “This is where Roy and Gina typically meet up, so there was too big of a chance that they’d get caught. Roy and Gina weren’t exactly subtle. Walker had to tell them to get a room because they were so loud in Roy’s office. These walls aren’t real thick. But Roy wasn’t big on spending money unnecessarily, so they’d usually just go out to Roy’s truck or one of the trucks parked in the back.”

  “He sounds like a real stand-up guy,” I said.

  “Hey, I trust him to have my back in a fire,” Gabe said. “That’s all that matters.”

  I figured that was debatable. I recognized the brotherhood mentality. It was the same one cops had. They’d cover for each other in their personal lives as long as they could trust each other to have their backs on the streets. It always amazed me that brotherhood trumped being a decent person. Jack recognized it for what it was, which was an excuse for getting away with things most people wouldn’t get away with. It was why he liked being sheriff. Why he liked setting himself apart from the others. He learned a long time ago the brotherhood wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

  “When was the last time you saw Nina?” Jack asked. “Did you notice anything odd between them?”

  “The last time I saw her was at the firemen’s ball. That was back in January. But we didn’t speak or anything. Nina didn’t really talk to anyone. She never hung out with any of the wives. Firemen’s wives are usually a pretty tight group, but my wife said Nina never came to their gatherings.”

  “Roy’s real…” Gabe couldn’t seem to think of the word he was looking for. “Roy is kind of a perfectionist. He likes things how he likes them. And I guess he was kind of that way about Nina too. It was more like she was a trophy he kept up on a shelf for people to look at. He’d bring her out for special occasions, but she wasn’t for everyday use. Kind of like china you only bring out for company.”

  “I think Roy just wanted to make sure he kept his personal life separate,” Walker said. “We all have a tendency to drag our personal lives into the job. I’m sure you guys know how that is. It’s hard to get a picture of them. It’s like their puzzle pieces didn’t really fit together. But that could be just because I never really saw them together.”

  “Do you think that’s why Roy hooked up with Gina Garcia?” I asked. “Maybe he figured he made a mistake with Nina and he found someone he had more in common with.

  Walker snorted out a laugh. “The only thing Roy and Gina had in common was sex. I guarantee she doesn’t even know his last name.”

  Gabe broke in. “Look, Roy’s never been great about monogamy. Not even with his first wife. If it wasn’t Gina it would’ve been someone else. But I don’t want to paint Roy in a bad light. He’s a great guy. You couldn’t ask for a better friend or teammate. He’d give you the shirt off his back.”

  “What about the poison?” Jack asked. “Y’all have use of all kinds of chemicals around the fire station. Anything ring a bell as far as where the cyanide came from?”

  “Beats me,” Walker said. “I can’t think of any foams or chemicals we use that have cyanide in them. But you’d be better off checking down at the firehouse to be sure.”

  “Can you think of any reason Roy would kill his wife?” Jack asked. “Maybe financial troubles?”

  Walker and Gabe looked at each other, but it was Walker who answered. “I can’t imagine they’d be in any financial difficulties. I mean, we don’t make much as public servants, but this business is very profitable. My wife and I just bought a vacation home in the Bahamas. And she stays home like Nina did.”

  “Maybe it was just some freak accident or something,” Gabe said. “I just can’t imagine Roy killing anyone.”

  “You should see the shiner he gave Gina when he found out about the baby,” I told him. “Has Roy always had a temper?”

  Walker’s lips went tight at that information, but neither of them seemed surprised.

  “The job affects some more than it does others,” Gabe said. “It’s easy to let things get bottled up and then find the closest outlet to release it all. Sometimes it’s the nearest bottle of booze. Sometimes it’s the nearest warm body, someone like Gina who’s convenient. And sometimes fists get involved. Usually we get off shift, get a solid twelve hours of sleep and then head to the bar to blow off some steam. Drunk is a lot less complicated than the other outlets.”

  I was getting tired of Gabe making excuses for Roy’s behavior. I guess because he kept telling us that Roy was a good guy he thought that we’d eventually believe it.”

  “We’re not going to sit here and lie to you and say that Roy is incapable of killing someone,” Walker said. “But I think if he did, there would be violence involved. Poison just seems like too easy of a way out for a guy as angry as Roy.”

  “What’s Roy got to be angry about?” I asked.

  “He and Caroline had a daughter. They lost her to leukemia several years ago,” Gabe said. “That was pretty much the nail in the coffin for their marriage. And he’s been pretty angry at everyone ever since then.”

  Chapter Ten

  It was noon by the time we left Gabe and Walker and headed toward Marilee Hedgepeth’s house. As far as we knew, she was Nina’s only friend. Or at least someone she spent a regular amount of time with. Roy hadn’t known her full name, but she was a Bloody Mary resident, so it hadn’t been hard for Jack to track her down. No one had called to tell her about Nina’s death, so Jack had been the one to break the news to her.

  My mood had only darkened since we’d left Chance Walker and Gabe Roland. This whole case felt wrong. Maybe it was because the shadow of my dad was clouding the whole thing. But I didn’t think so.

  “What’s wrong?” Jack asked. “I kept watching your face while we were in there, and I started to wonder if punching people was going to become your norm.”

  “No, I’m reserving all my violent tendencies for Floyd. But that doesn’t mean I can’t imagine it.”

  “Babe,” Jack said. “We’ve talked about this. When you imagine things, it shows up right there on your face. It’s why I told you for years to stop playing poker.”

  “Yet you took my money anyway,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

  “I can’t help it that you’re stubborn. And it’s not like you didn’t benefit. I used almost all the money I won off you at poker to pay for our wedding.”

  “Hilarious,” I said. “And just because we’re talking doesn’t mean I’m not still mad at you.”

  He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “One issue at a time,” he said.

  “You heard them,” I said, feeling myself getting worked up. “Just to recap, Roy has a habit of treating women badly. He’s a cheater. He’s a liar. He married Nina for her money so he and his friends could open a business. He’s got anger issues and punched his girlfriend in the face. He was so controlling he made Nina live like a slave in her own home, and he got upset if anything was ever out of place. But he’s a good guy because he’s got their backs when they’re fighting fire. That’s some ridiculous bullshit right there.”

  He opened his mouth out of habit.

  “And if you say swear jar, I’m going to lose my mind,” I said. “Not one person gives two craps about Nina Walsh. She was a possession. She was just there to serve Roy. It’s textbook abuse. He kept her isolated. Controlled her. Demeaned her. And I bet if we check the florists in town, he buys her flowers pretty regularly. And yet, somehow, everyone is worried about Roy, even though statistics show he’s probably the one who killed her.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Jack said. “Roy is a class-A asshole. His friends know it, but it’s the first responder culture. I wish we could change it. It’s part of the reason I went back to graduate school. I wanted to understand why people who wanted to serve the community, and hold others to a certain standard, couldn’t seem to live by that standard themselves. The divorce rate is higher. Unwanted pregnancy is higher. Domestic abuse is higher. And alcoho
lism and drug use are higher.

  “It’s completely messed up. If first responders spent more time encouraging each other to do the right thing instead of promising to cover up for each other, you’d have a lot tighter, more accountable, and more trustworthy brothers. Those are the people I’d want watching my back. But it’s a lot easier to keep things the same than it is to change it. That’s just human nature.”

  “Well, it sucks,” I said, sitting back in my seat. “You haven’t heard anything from Nash?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “It’ll take time. We’ll talk to Marilee Hedgepeth and see if we can put more of the puzzle together. I’d like for Roy to be guilty just as much as you.”

  “But you don’t think he is,” I said.

  “The truth will come out. It always does,” he said. “And we know that Nina wasn’t completely alone. After talking with Marilee on the phone last night I can tell you they were close, and she mourns Nina, even if no one else does.”

  It did make me feel better. “What about the daughter? Do you think Roy called her and told her the news?”

  “I don’t know, but I called and left a message with my contact information,” Jack said. “Just in case he didn’t. I want to get her impression of Roy too. It’s probably not coincidental that Nina’s relationship with her daughter fizzled after she and Roy married.”

  Jack’s phone rang and we both looked at the caller ID to see if it was Nash. It was a Washington number, but not one I recognized. Jack put the call through Bluetooth, so it came out through the speakers.

  “Jack Lawson,” he said.

  “Hey, Jack. It’s Michelle.”

  “How’d the surgery go?” he asked. “Jaye’s in the car with me.”

  “Hi Michelle,” I said.

  “Hey,” she said. “The surgery went really well. He goes in for another around three o’clock.”

  “Make sure you get some rest in between,” I told her. “Stay hydrated and off your feet when you can.”

  “I just got the same speech from Ben’s surgeon,” she said. “They moved a recliner into his room for me, and my feet are up as we speak. I wanted to let you know I spoke to Doug’s mother. She’s headed this way to see Ben, so it actually makes sense for Doug to come with her and have an excuse to be in the area.”

 

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