I noticed the upholstery on the seat already showed signs of wear. We all spent a lot of time there, staring at the madness of mankind’s doings.
We had four active cases of cheating spouses. I hated them, but they came with the territory and paid for a few of our surveillance peoples’ salaries. The case of child porn broke my heart, but I was going to beat the devil as me and my friend, Breecie, as the attorney of record, were ready to fight for the family to nail the sunovabitch.
The Childs’ extended list of suspects filled most of a second board we brought in, overlaid on top of the other cases. A murder board. I loathed the fact that I was adding more names of possible nefarious players. Schlep was correct. Only the dead were crossed off that list.
Maybe someone wasn’t interested in the money, after all. Maybe that someone held deep rancor against the family. I now had my own kind of a players list to include upper management of the Tucson Scorpions. What the hell did this Bill Michaels want out of the game?
I might even have a disgruntled player trying to muddy things up. Maybe one of Taylor Childs’ friends with benefits. That meant the entire team, from what had been rumored.
Now, two drug lords in Tucson? Bibbione spoke the truth, from what little I knew about Isidora Childs. She went by her first name, only. I wondered if the new and contemptible Chief of Police had turned a blind eye to both of them. She would do whatever rewarded her the most favorable ground when it came to being politically incorrect with whomever she deduced held the grandest power.
We sat in silence for some time before Schlep jumped up and started in with nervous stretches in a failed attempt to quiet his erratic twitching.
I reached out and placed my hand on his, leading him to sit back on the bench. “Let’s take a fresh look. Again, starting with the fact that it’s an irrevocable trust. It won’t even go to probate. What have you found out about this William Michaels guy?” I pointed to the photo of the balding guy that had stormed my office with his title of being the Scorpions’ general manager.
“He plays the game close to his chest as a loyal good old boy. He’s also in deep big-time financial trouble. He speculated on some land deals east of us, too dumb to know the properties were in the flood zone, and he bought up some experimental airplane stocks as if he were playing Monopoly. It all went south.”
“So he has financial motive, but he’s not a Childs. Crap. I need a ciggie, but not before I tell you I get to have a chat with the pretty little girl, Taylor, this time. I’m going to pay a visit to the bubbly golden child of the Childs’ family name. Taylor has made her own way up the ranks by sleeping with the team, or she thinks she has. It might not be from my knowing state, but my gut tells me it’s time to reintroduce myself to her.”
“Whoa. Back it up. I thought you quit those cancer sticks.”
“I take temporary breaks.”
He shook his head, giving me a disgruntled pass. “Taylor Childs is not my type, and I’m definitely not hers. Watch out for that potty mouth. Almost a quirk, she can use obscenities but she doesn’t seem to like them coming from someone else,” Schlep said.
“Shit. Really?”
I went out for my smoke, feeling guilty as hell that the habit owned me now and then. I centered myself as I sat out in our small courtyard in front of the running fountain as the Angelwing jasmine graced the air with the smell of its sweet floral.
On a lark, I called Breecie. I hadn’t seen her much and she lived next to me and worked next to me.
“Where the hell are you, Breecie?”
“Awe. You miss me that much? I’m almost to Scottsdale. I have work there. I should be back late Sunday.”
It didn’t take rocket science, an ace detective, or psychic abilities to deduce she was lying to me. It was Friday afternoon. I found it to be a fat chance that she would be working.
When I came back Schlep had started another mini-board with the names of peripheral suspects that included anyone with a grudge and not necessarily after financial gain. He had entities listed like the Scorpions’ management and players, distant relatives, ex-friends and employees.
“Shit, Schlep!”
“Try to say that three times,” he said as he put a final tack into his new list.
“We’re supposed to be eliminating perps, not adding to them. We might as well put up the entire Tucson metro, and every city that has an NFL team,” I screeched.
I looked at Schlep, devastated to see his lower lip trembling like I’d seen my dog, Finnegan do, whenever I firmly scolded him. I hated it.
“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. I have no excuse for bursting out at you. I’m just so mad at myself right now.”
“It’s okay, Cassie. If I could yell, I would, too. Truthfully, I don’t have it in me right now.”
“What you did is the correct thing. We have to start again, and with any possible perp put on the board.”
“But, let’s keep going,” he said. “Starting fresh, but with a few new names added.”
We each held onto two laser pens that we could point onto the board while taking a look from the bench. Schlep drew his circle of red light around Paul Childs’ first wife. “One more time, what about this Yanaha?” he asked.
“Weird woman, snake venom and all, but she’s long gone. I’d rule her out with the dead ones. Sick, but true. That likely goes for Claudia Childs. She has all the Versace she so desperately feels she needs. Unless she has other motive.
“And Breecie checked out Paul Childs’ attorney, Sam Black. Clean. Honest as a lawyer can come.”
“Breecie, aside,” Schlep said with a tension-breaking giggle.
I offered him my best smirk and said, “And, from what we’ve discovered I really don’t think Seth is our guy. He has his career and family. The only thing that could happen is that the board of trustees would favor him and everyone else moves in for the kill.”
Schlep began to put white dots on the red lines that connected all of the suspects we had just discussed, meaning to us that they weren’t viable. They also weren’t completely removed. He drew squiggles through the line connecting Bill Michaels to the dead, along with Claudia, Seth, and the entire Scorpion staff. He reached into his khaki pants and retrieved a skinny black Formaline tape and made a line to his new list that included everyone else. I’d never seen that before but I could guess that the squiggles and black line meant they weren’t prime suspects.
I nodded my head in approval. “That leaves us with the active names of Isidora, the second wife, along with Hunter, and obviously, the resurrected-from-the-dead Manny Childs. Add Taylor and Stacie Childs. Bibbione warned me about Isidora. The three of them are at the top of my list, but I’m still going to meet with Taylor.”
“You’re missing your psychic feelings, aren’t you?” he asked in a hushed voice.
“Yes. Right now you have more intuition than I do. No. I’m not feeling the magic. What I feel is a humongous stone wall mortared together with a zapping frustration. Nothing.”
“Look at the board. We’re making progress. We’ll get through this, Cassidy. We always do.”
I thought about that. We were a definite team and we would find resolve. But for now I blurted out, “Too many perspective perps. I’m swimming in a cesspit of messages I can’t interpret. I can’t make one damn thing out but that there’s evil all around this case.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
STACIE HADN’T BEEN in touch with Seth ever since she lied and told him she had only then found his wallet in her home and suggesting he must have dropped it.
Knowing she had put every item back into the wallet exactly as she had found them before mailing it back to him, she decided to place a friendly call to him. At one o’clock Tucson time, it would be four in New York.
She called Seth’s cell and it immediately went to voicemail with a message he would be out of the office but his calls were being taken by his assistant. He repeated her telephone number twice.
A family vacation? The
y probably were due, Stacie thought. She called Seth’s home phone. When his wife picked up she informed Stacie that Seth was away on business in Hong Kong and couldn’t be reached for several more days.
Stacie wasn’t so gullible. That evening she retrieved the copy she had made of the back of the C.P.A.’s business card. Next to the stupid hand drawn heart Stacie found what she needed, scribbling down the mystery slut’s name and home address.
She dressed for what would be her fifth date with her new beau. A record for her. What he lacked in looks he made up for in kindness. The man always came bearing little gifts, from a rose to a toy stuffed pig, to a framed photo of their first date. He made her feel special and secure and even beautiful, despite of the extra few pounds she had put on.
She glanced at the clock. Now six o’clock, she had plenty of time and arrived at the accountant’s address in thirty minutes to find a modest Territorial style home with immaculate gardens and Talavera pottery figurines lining the path to the front door. Instead of appreciating the beauty of simplicity, Stacie’s nausea returned with the certainty that Seth’s family life wasn’t as perfect as he portrayed it to be.
A car sat parked in the middle of the driveway. Stacie expected the owner of the residence to answer. She’d smile and ask for Seth and when he appeared she’d chew him out with her excellent command of four-letter words and demand that he get his shit together.
Or would she? Knowing that his act of adultery would likely ruin his marriage and destroy his children’s happiness was one thing. The revelation would also likely be enough to knock him off of the heirs-in-waiting list. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. The list of contenders would grow ever shorter and it would be his own damn fault.
“No,” she said aloud to herself in a whisper as she closed the door to her truck. I love Seth, she thought. He’s acting stupid and I can put a stop to it.
She walked to the door with new purpose and rang the bell.
Nothing.
She looked across to the car in the driveway and saw the rental sticker on the window.
She pounded the door and waited. Almost ready to give up, the door opened widely.
Seth stood there with a half-empty glass of wine in his hand.
“What are you doing here?” she said as she took a step forward.
He replied with ease, “Same as you but with a difference.”
“What are you talking about? She said, fury boiling with his apathy.
“You’re looking for trouble and I’m awaiting it. Looks like it just arrived.”
Seth stepped aside and motioned for Stacie to enter the house. She shook her head and complied, bursting past him.
“Well, where is she?” Stacie said.
“Looks like you need a glass of wine.” Seth led her into the kitchen where another glass sat readied on the counter.
While he poured, Stacie scoured the rooms that she could see. It didn’t take long before she grabbed a framed photograph of a woman and what looked to be her young daughter. She grabbed the photo and shoved it into Seth’s face.
“You’re throwing everything you have down the toilet for this? Where is she?”
“Mel isn’t home right now. I think, Stacie, it’s time for you to cough up some sort of excuse as to why you’re here.”
“How did you know I would be coming?”
“My wife called and told me you were looking for me. She said that your voice seemed to be on the nervous side of wickedness,” he smiled. “I assumed it was a good possibility, given that I know you and that means I know you would have gone through my wallet. You didn’t call my cell and you didn’t call headquarters. The better question is why are you here? You’ve already destroyed our relationship so you might as well cough it up.”
Stacie fumbled for her words. “I’m trying to prevent you from destroying your life. Yes. I went through your wallet, harmlessly, to feel closer to you. I didn’t take anything.”
“But you did take down the information from Mel’s card. You put it back in my wallet with the heart facing down. I never do that.”
Stacie shuddered as her face turned to crimson. She took the glass of wine and sat down at the island, one hand still clutching her purse.
“You see,” Seth said, “if you really wanted to help you would have just called. But, you elected to try and surprise me here at the scene of the crime. Is this your idea of entrapment?”
“I’m just trying to help you. Get your head screwed on straight.”
After a deep breath and a small sip of wine, Seth said, “Melanie is my accountant down here. Every bit as good as my accountants in New York, I might add.”
“I bet she is,” Stacie retorted.
He cleared his throat and offered a generous smile, “Mel is my good friend. I met her daughter during one of my volunteer visits at the children’s hospital. Mel’s daughter is terminal. Cancer. She’s the one that drew that nifty little heart on the back of Mel’s business card. Maybe you’re unfamiliar with philanthropic work. It’s where one lucky bastard gives of his time and money to those less fortunate.”
Stacie flipped him off. “This isn’t about me,” she snapped.
“That’s where you’re wrong, little sister. You have reached another one of your grand false conclusions, and you came here to catch me. And your plans were that your mouth would runneth over, right in front of Dad’s board of trustees.”
Stacie heckled.
“And?” Seth pushed her for a reply.
“Your secretary tells me you’re on vacation. But your wife, home, then tells me you’re in Hong Kong.”
“Gotta love my wife and her imagination. That was Chloe’s little rouse in case I didn’t want to contact you. And, I didn’t want to until it dawned on me that you would show up here.”
“You’re pathetic.”
“As I said at the beginning of our little encounter, you came here looking for trouble and I sat awaiting it. You didn’t disappoint.”
Stacie’s face flushed to a crimson. “I’ll see myself to the door.”
“That you will, and then you’ll be all over your little private detective to find dirt on me. And, by the way, in this screwed up world I don’t think the Pope would ever care if I was an adulterous bastard vying for the crown of football. You’re wasting your money, Stacie. And, in the process, you’ve ruined our friendship. My little Crackerjack is dead.”
“No loss, asshole,” Stacie said as she reached for the front door.
Seth locked it, dumped out the remains of the wine, and called his wife.
“No. I didn’t tell her,” Seth told his wife. “She has no idea I don’t plan on taking over as ringmaster for the Scorpions. Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell her why.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Isidora wiped the snowflakes from her face and rapped on her son’s front door.
After several attempts, she tossed the leather weekender over her shoulder, clutching it tight against her body with her left hand as she used her teeth to remove the glove from her right hand, then fumbled in her purse to retrieve the key that would fit the lock.
Disarming the security system, Isidora stormed into the kitchen, dropped her bags, removed her outerwear, and took a seat at the table. Pulling out a cell phone from her chic houndstooth blazer, she placed the call.
“Damn it, Hunter. Where are you? At least you could have turned up the furnace for me. Hell, you knew we had a date. Here. Now.”
“Yes. I knew, Mother,” the booming voice came from behind her.
She screamed and took an abrupt stand, dropping her phone to the floor and gripping the edge of the table.
“You sonuvabitch! You scared me half to death. Lucky I don’t have my piece in my hands.”
“Be careful what you call me, Mother. I am your son, after all.”
“Right now I’m more interested in calling the other one, Manny, my son. He’s outshining you, Hunter. Where is he?”
“He’ll be here. And
for the record, we’re a team. None of this would be happening if it weren’t for me.”
“Let’s not get petty. I’m the one that provided you with the dead body to get Manny up here.”
“How hard could coming up with a body be for you? Your hits have been escalating,” Hunter said.
“Don’t be so flippant. I had to have the right height. The right skeletal structure. I was the one to slip Manny’s old wedding ring on the damn finger.”
“Don’t bullshit a bull-shitter. You liked it.”
Isidora smirked as she leaned her head to one side, tightening the silk scarf tied around her hair.
“I did enjoy bearing witness to Manny’s wife’s demise. She was mean, that one. In the end, she sailed off to Lala Land. I could have made her death more painful, you know. With the fire no one would have been the wiser, and then we get the new Mrs. Childs waltzing in to keep the press and the police at bay. We couldn’t have planned it better.”
Their ears picked up the sound of an approaching car. Isidora’s eyes pierced Hunter’s.
“That’s Mason in his trashed pickup.”
Isidora excused herself to use the bathroom. When she returned she found Mason unpacking grocery bags and displaying all of her favorites on the kitchen table.
“Oh my, Mason. You’ve thought of everything. I feel like I’m at home in Columbia. How did you find Juan Valez Coffee? And the cinnamon and clove chocolates?” How did you find them here?”
Hunter glared as Mason beamed and said, “A guy in Gunnison has a specialty restaurant. He did me a favor and ordered everything for you. I even have the three different potatoes and the recipe to make you caldo de costilla soup tomorrow,” he said.
“Awe, the hangover soup. I guess that means I get to tie one on tonight,” Hunter said. He turned toward Isidora and added, “I don’t know why you had to come all this way for a meeting.”
Lethal Trust Page 18
