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Tales of Aradia The Last Witch Volume 1

Page 24

by L.A. Jones


  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Kaiser told her about his troubles with his dad. He also told her about his mother, his dad’s friends, his dad’s enemies, his dad’s problems, and his own problems.

  “None of us ever really had much of a stable relationship. I didn't get along with either of my folks, even when they were together. I got into trouble almost every day.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  He shrugged. “You know. Fighting, stealing, drugs. Stuff.”

  “You deal, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. What’s it to you?”

  “I went through a hard time myself. Rebelled against my parents, started smoking weed. I hurt some people.”

  “Yeah, well, you got through it fine and your parents were still alive on the other side.”

  Back to the topic, Rai. Control the conversation.

  “Do you think one of the people from your drug dealing was involved?” asked Aradia.

  Kaiser shook his head and said, “I never sold anything serious or worth serious money. Mostly weed and shrooms to college kids. There wasn’t anybody serious enough to come after my ’rents.”

  “Not that I am complaining or anything, in fact I applaud you for making the decision, but why didn't you deal serious drugs?” asked Aradia.

  Kaiser shrugged, grumbling. “You need to know people. I was a retailer, so I’d have needed wholesalers. Besides, I didn’t want to go that route.”

  “You’re using the past tense. You stopped dealing?” He nodded meekly. “Why?”

  “I’d have probably stopped anyway, eventually. But my dad caught me.”

  “Oh,” said Aradia, sounding out the word long and hard to emphasize her understanding. “And as a lawyer he was concerned how it would look?”

  “No!” Kaiser replied emphatically, surprising Aradia with his emotion. “No, he never said anything like that. Damn it, I hated him sometimes, but he never once said anything like that. The last time I saw him we were yelling. I really let him down.”

  She let him talk.

  “One of the reasons I got booted from my mom's house and into staying with my dad was the drugs,” Kaiser explained. “The only reason. She had custody. She gave me up when she found out, though. She said I was just like my father.”

  “Maybe she was right.”

  “He cheated on her for years. Said he was working late. That’s how she got custody. I don’t want to be just like him.”

  “Then maybe she was right in ways she didn’t mean.” At his raised eyebrow she went on, “You describe him as a guy with some troubles, but who always treated you well. I can’t defend him doing that to your mother, but maybe if you learn from both your mistakes, something can come of it.”

  “Yeah,” he replied, pulling another cigarette. “Maybe.”

  “My dad’s a lawyer, too,” she volunteered. “ADA.”

  “Good for your dad.”

  “What were you fighting about, the last time you saw your father?” Aradia asked.

  “The gang,” said Kaiser.

  “Hmm. He didn’t approve?”

  “My dad and I lost our pack with the divorce. They sided with my mom. He thought we’d be better off finding our own way.”

  “You think one of them might have…”

  He shook his head. “No. My guys are loyal, mostly. There’s a couple guys who are bruisers, Bane, Dope, Munchie, but if anybody wanted my spot, they’d come after me.”

  “Another gang, then?”

  He shook his head. “Look, we’re not like LA or New York wolf packs. There’s some petty crimes, but nothing hard. Mostly we just bully other hiddens, like you and your boyfriend that night.”

  Aradia sighed and asked, “Was your father having any business problems?”

  Kaiser shook his head. She wished he would shift his thinking to help her generate leads instead of merely shooting down anything she came up with. For all her bravado, establishing a motive would be nearly impossible without help.

  “What about Stanley?”

  “What about him?”

  “Two murders in a town that normally has none, and all they have in common is the vampire MO and that the first vic was your dad’s client. It’s an obvious link.”

  “Police thought so too,” Kaiser replied. “They didn’t find anything.”

  “Because they didn’t know what to look for. They don’t know about werewolves.” Well, Scruffy does. I guess he just wasn’t too helpful in the investigation. Not surprising, he was such a jerk.

  Kaiser sighed. “I’d met Stanley a couple times. The guy was a tool.”

  Aradia couldn’t help but laugh.

  “What?” he asked.

  “The guy owned a hardware store,” she replied. At his blank expression, she spelled it out, saying, “You called him a tool.”

  “Oh!” he said, realizing the irony.

  He laughed, hard. “Yeah, I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I know,” she said, smiling sincerely. Finally he’s warming up to me!

  “Well, it’s still true. He was probably a good guy, you know. But he sweated a lot. He had no confidence. I can tell when I meet someone whether they’re a fighter or not. He wasn’t.”

  “From what I’ve learned, he fought pretty hard to keep his store afloat.”

  “Yeah, afloat,” Kaiser replied. “Surviving. Struggling just to stay alive isn’t living. That’s what I mean.”

  Beats the alternative. She kept that sentiment to herself, given the circumstances.

  “What about Mr. Stanley’s business partner, a guy named Dereck?”

  “Caradoc?” Kaiser replied. “What about him?”

  “What do you know about him?”

  “Stanley was my dad’s client for a while. I first heard the name maybe four or five years ago. A business owner always needs a lawyer, I guess. My dad talked about him a lot. He mismanaged a few finances last year. My dad thought his only choice was to sell the place. The land was worth good money, and there were interested buyers. If he didn’t sell, the bank would foreclose.”

  “But what has that got to do with Mr. Caradoc?” asked Aradia.

  “Well, lots of businesses have been going under lately. Banks don’t want to foreclose. They don’t make money like that. They want businesses to keep paying interest. In order to make a long term profit, some banks are willing to forgive a certain amount of debt if the owner can show a real plan to pay the rest of it over time.”

  “Isn’t that kind of shady?” Aradia asked.

  Kaiser shook his head. “Shady how? On the contrary, it helps square off the business owners’ debts while helping the bank still get the money it needs. When banks do well, they can lend more money, which entrepreneurs can use to spur on the economy. Healthy banks are crucial for a healthy economy.”

  Not as dumb as he acts, Aradia noted. I’ll remember that.

  “Where does Dereck come in?” Aradia repeated.

  “Well, I don’t know the details, but this Caradoc guy, he offered Stanley enough money to make the shop look better on paper. It was enough to convince the bank not to foreclose, right away at least. In exchange he became a partner.”

  “I met him once,” Kaiser continued. “Dereck. Didn’t like him.”

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing in particular. Just my overall impression. If there is one thing being a criminal taught me, it’s how to spot another.”

  Aradia felt a tingle down her spine. That was exactly how she’d felt just glimpsing him in the hallway. “You think the guy’s a crook?” Aradia asked.

  “I don’t know. That would be my guess.”

  Aradia nodded with satisfaction. She knew her father disagreed, but her money was on Dereck as the culprit, or at least an involved party.

  "Do you think Dereck was stealing money from Mr. Stanley?”

  He smiled. “How the hell would I know?”

  Aradia grew thoughtful. “I know this is kind of touchy,
but you probably could get access to your dad’s computer and books.”

  They agreed on a meeting time and place. Kaiser would do the research Aradia requested and meet with her again on Tuesday. That would give him time to find what it was for which he was looking. She was disappointed, but agreed to wait, figuring it would be two of the longest days of her life.

  He still didn’t want her to know where he lived, so they agreed to meet at the public library on Essex Street. The library was a renovated Civil War era brick mansion originally owned by a wealthy sea merchant. Aradia was pretty excited when Kaiser proposed it as a meeting place. She’d been meaning to check it out anyway, but hadn’t found the time.

  “I won’t tell the other guys you have a library card,” she quipped when he hurried up to join her on Tuesday afternoon.

  “I checked my dad’s home computer,” he replied, ignoring her comment. “There wasn’t anything on it. The police took his office one and his laptop. They didn’t know about these, though.”

  He emptied his backpack and a half dozen or so ledgers tumbled out, earning him a stern look from a nearby librarian.

  “My dad was old school. He probably kept computer records, but everything you want to know is in these.”

  “Let’s look at Stanley’s finances,” she said.

  He was a step ahead of her and had already bookmarked the appropriate page in one of the books. “I’m thinking your hunch is wrong. Every penny of Stanley’s is accounted for.”

  Aradia’s jaw dropped in surprise. “You mean Dereck didn't steal any money?”

  “Not that my dad knew of, at least," said Kaiser. He guided her through the figures as proof.

  Aradia stomped her foot in frustration.

  “It makes so much sense. Dereck kills Mr. Stanley. Your dad, Stanley’s lawyer, catches on because money’s missing. So Dereck kills your dad to cover his tracks.”

  “Yeah, sure, it makes perfect sense,” Kaiser replied frustratedly. “But it’s not what happened.”

  “Now you sound just like my dad,” she grumbled. “So you don't think that this guy had a motive for killing your dad?”

  “Nothing in the books, at least,” he said, making Aradia feel like whacking herself in the head with a brick.

  They went through the rest of the ledgers meticulously, hoping to find some kind of clue, whether related to Dereck or not. Nothing jumped out at either of them.

  “Ugh, this is not working,” she said finally.

  “No,” he agreed. “No it’s not.”

  “Alright,” she said, “I need to do some thinking. How should I contact you?”

  He seemed hesitant.

  “Oh come on! Even after all this you don’t trust me?”

  “Especially after all this, I don’t trust anybody.” Reluctantly, though, he had to agree that if they were going to solve this together, they needed a means of getting in touch.

  “Give me your cell number,” he commanded.

  She complied. His fingers flew over the keypad as he typed it in.

  “You called me a bunch recently, didn’t you?” he asked.

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “I won’t bother asking how you got my number. You’re in my phone now. I’ll answer when you call, or at least return your messages.”

  She nodded as she stood to leave. “Fair enough.”

 

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