by Bird, Peggy
Hartmann removed her foot from the doorway. Amanda slammed the door.
• • •
“Hartmann. My office. Now.” L.T. bellowed from the door of his office. Everyone within earshot turned to see what was going on. No one could remember hearing Chris Angel yell like that before.
Sam looked up from his computer at his partner. She shrugged her shoulders as if to say, “I have no idea,” and did as she had been commanded. Sam went back to what he’d been working on, afraid there would be another shoe dropped soon.
Less than five minutes later at an identical decibel level, Angel yelled, “Richardson. Now you.”
Angel closed the door behind him and waved Sam to a chair. Danny was sitting in another chair, looking subdued, the remains of a blush on her cheeks. He’d never seen her look so deflated.
“I got three phone calls this morning from a parole officer and two citizens asking why we were so disorganized that there were multiple visits within an hour from police officers asking the same questions. You know anything about that, Detective Richardson?”
“I don’t think so.”
“The hell you don’t. You were one of the officers asking questions about Kane/Jordan. After I directly told you to keep out of the case.”
“Multiple? Who … ?” He looked at his partner who nodded her head.
“Yeah, she was the other one. But she didn’t bother to tell me what you were up to. Did you ask her not to?” the lieutenant asked.
“I didn’t tell her anything. I wasn’t going to risk her career.”
“Just yours.”
“Which is mine to risk. I couldn’t sit around and do nothing.”
“You disobeyed a direct order. You mucked around with witnesses. You could have made them useless in a prosecution. You put your partner in an untenable situation.” Angel blew out a breath. “What the fuck should I do with you?”
“Put me on administrative leave,” Sam said.
“So you can have an even freer rein to mess around in this case? Like hell I will. I was leaning more toward protective custody.”
Sam did a double take. “I didn’t do anything illegal.”
“The hell of it is, I’m at the place where I need you to be involved in this case. If you’d waited one more day … ”
“What do you want me to do?” Sam asked.
“I’m not sure I trust you to do what I ask.”
“I apologize. I thought I was onto something. I should have kept you in the loop. Now, please, let me help.” He hoped he sounded sincere. Because he was, about one thing — he sincerely believed he’d do anything to get back on this case.
Angel stared long enough at Sam to make him uncomfortable. “What the fuck? I don’t really have much of a choice. Okay, Danny, tell him what you told me earlier.”
Danny said, “I was at Amanda’s house this morning. She wouldn’t let me in but we talked at the door. About two minutes into the conversation, something I said triggered a look on her face, like she was remembering something. Then the interview went off the cliff. She asked me to leave and not come back without an appointment so she could have her attorney with her.”
Angel said, “I was planning on asking you to see if she’d talk to you, Sam, before I found out what you’d been up to. Now … ”
“L.T., I know you’re not happy with either of us,” Danny began. “But you need to let Sam talk to her. I think she saw Matthews there that night. And he’s the only one who can find out if she did.”
“If she ID’s him, that puts her in danger until we have him in custody. You have his prints on the kiln and on that glass. Why do you need her?” Sam asked.
Angel hesitated, as if still not sure he should be letting Sam back in. Finally he said, “There are too many holes in the case.” He ticked them off. “No motive. The only good ID we have is Leo Wilson’s and that puts Matthews in the neighborhood along with anyone who works in the Fred Meyer corporate headquarters and the other neighbors. We can’t ID the Toyota as his. No car is registered in his name.” Angel came out from behind his desk and perched on the edge of it in front of Sam as he continued.
“He could tell us he left the prints on Kane’s glass and at Bullseye some other time and we couldn’t dispute it. If Amanda St. Claire can place him there at the right time that night, can connect the dots about the car, we’re on more solid ground.”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” Sam looked up at the ceiling, closed his eyes, shook his head, then looked at his boss. “This isn’t how I wanted back in, L.T.”
“It’s the best you’re gonna get from me at the moment. I need her cooperation. I have to use you.”
“Not sure she’ll even talk to me.”
“Nice to know you’re not any happier about this than I am. But I want this case wrapped up ASAP. Go do it.”
• • •
When the doorbell rang, Amanda was sure Danny Hartmann had returned and she answered, ready to give the cop a tongue-lashing.
But instead of the police detective, standing on her doorstep was the man in the photo Danny had shown her. The man who had stalked her while she shopped.
The man she’d seen at Bullseye the night two people were murdered.
She cleared her throat, sure her voice would wobble when she spoke. Finally she said, “Yes, can I help you? Are you lost?”
“No, Amanda. I’m exactly where I want to be.” Beal Matthews pushed past her into the hallway. “Now, we’re going to go open that safe and get out what you owe me.”
“What safe? There’s no safe, ” she said. She realized her mistake when she saw the furious look on his face. “That is, there’s nothing in the safe. It all went into my bank account. I told you. My banker will be getting the money tomorrow.”
“Bitch.” He slapped her across the face. “You’re lying. You stole from Tom, you killed him and got away with it, you’re still trying to cheat me. Show me where the damn safe is or that’s just a taste of what you’re in for.” Twisting her arm behind her, he shoved her toward the kitchen. “We’re going downstairs. That’s where it has to be. But I can’t find it. Move. Now.” He pulled a gun from his pocket. “Or I’ll use this.”
Chihuly appeared from the kitchen, growling at Matthews, teeth bared.
“Goddamn dog.” He pointed the gun at Chihuly’s head. “Get rid of him.”
Amanda tried to move in front of her dog. “Don’t hurt him.”
“You’re right. He didn’t cheat me out of what I earned. But if you don’t get rid of him, he’ll pay for what you did.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll put him out if you’ll let me go.” Followed by Matthews, Amanda led her dog by the collar to the back door and pushed him outside.
“Now, you, downstairs,” Matthews stuck the muzzle of the gun in her ribs.
She opened the door, flipped on the light at the top of the steps and descended, followed by Matthews. When she got to the bottom, she indicated the drifts of packing paper, empty storage boxes and other detritus on the floor and said, “I gather you’ve been here before. But knock yourself out.”
“You know where it is. Just show me.” He motioned her toward the rabbit warren of rooms beyond.
Amanda didn’t know what to do next. She had no idea if there was anything like a safe there, much less where it was. The police had looked. Sam had looked. Apparently Matthews had looked, too. No one had found anything.
She glanced around, wondering where to send him. She stored cobwebs, dust, and things she couldn’t bear to part with in the various small rooms but none of them had doors behind which to trap him nor was there anything she could see to use to disarm him.
“I can’t really remember where it is,” she began. “It was a long time ago when Tommy told me about it.”
He raised his hand to
slap her again. She winced and his laugh was cocky-sounding, as if sure of his power over her. “You’re too young to have that bad a memory. Tell me or I’ll use this in a way you won’t like.” He leveled the gun at her. “Your boyfriend won’t be so crazy about you if that pretty face is all messed up.”
She put her hand up as if to ward off whatever he had in mind, then pointed toward the front of the house. “Wait, now I remember, it was behind the furnace.” It was all she could think of. Maybe while he was back there, she could find a weapon, get out the back door. Something.
“There?” he said, gesturing toward the front wall.
She nodded.
“Move over here where I can see you while I look.”
Amanda did as he ordered. As soon as he had squeezed behind the furnace and was occupied inspecting the wallboard, she looked around again for something to use as a weapon. The only thing that looked likely was a rake propped against the wall with other garden tools. She began to edge her way toward it.
Then, through the small window at ground level in the front of the house, she saw a black Mercedes pull up at the curb. Drake Vos got out and began to walk up the path to her front door. The relief that washed over her was so overwhelming her knees almost buckled. If she could get upstairs, Drake would help her keep Matthews there until they called the police.
When Matthews was completely behind the furnace, she made a run for the steps. Once upstairs in the kitchen, she locked the door to the basement and ran to open the front door.
“Drake, thank God. I’ve got the man who killed Eubie Kane and Robin Jordan in the basement. We have to call the police. Do you have a phone?”
Drake pulled a gun from his jacket pocket. “This will be more useful, I think.”
“Yes, that’ll help keep him here until they get here. But we have to call nine-one-one. I’ll go get my … ”
“No, Amanda. You won’t.” He took her arm. “I wouldn’t want the police interrupting the job that Mr. Matthews and I have to take care of. Now, how about we join my colleague downstairs and finish this up.”
Chapter Thirteen
Amanda stared at the second handgun pointed at her that day. “I don’t believe this. You’re involved, too?”
“Sorry to disappoint you, my dear, but involved I am. Now, down we go and let’s get this settled. Matthews tells me you can show us where the safe is.”
“Matthews is wrong.”
“But you told him … ”
“I told him I’d give him what he wanted, which I thought was money. I arranged to take money out of my trust fund accounts to bribe him to leave me and Sam alone.”
“The man is an idiot.” He waved her toward the kitchen. “However, that doesn’t change the fact that Webster put a safe someplace. In the restaurant I found a combination that doesn’t work anything there and Matthews had that letter. We’ve been through your studio, the restaurant, and most of your house. The basement is the most likely place. So, if you will accompany me … ”
He motioned her to the door and, once again, reluctantly, she descended to the basement. When Matthews saw them, the anger on his face turned to a sneer.
“So much for trying to outthink us, bitch. Now get over here and show me where the fucking safe is.”
“She doesn’t know where it is,” Vos said.
“Of course she does. She took the money and put it in her account. She told me.”
“You fool,” Vos said. “She’s using money from her trust accounts to bribe you. We still don’t know where the safe is.”
Matthews slapped Amanda. “You little bitch.” He raised his hand to hit her again.
Vos intervened. “Enough. We’re going to be civilized about this. Amanda, sit on that chair over there. Matthews, watch her. I’m going to finish looking down here.”
“She said she thought it was behind the furnace. I started back there but then she ran.”
Vos looked at Amanda, now seated on an old plastic garden chair. “If you don’t know where it is, Amanda, why did you tell him that?”
“I thought he’d be trapped back there and I could go get help.”
Gesturing to the clutter around them, Vos said, “It’s obvious most of the place has been searched. Did anyone look behind the furnace?”
Silence gave him the answer.
“All right, then I’ll start there. If I come up empty, we can all resume the search elsewhere.” He squeezed behind the furnace and began to rap on the wallboard. As he continued along the wall, he seemed to get more interested. He’d apparently seen or heard something Amanda couldn’t figure out from where she was sitting.
But as he moved back and forth from one panel to another, comparing sounds, inspecting the surfaces, Amanda began to hear the difference between most of the panels of drywall and one particular panel, a panel that wasn’t as dingy as the rest.
“Your instincts were good after all, Amanda. I need a hammer.” Vos said. He nodded to Matthews to let her find one for him.
She dug her toolbox out of the mess on the floor, found a hammer, and handed it to him. He began to rip at the panel of odd-looking wallboard.
“I don’t believe it,” Amanda said when she saw the safe mounted between the studs he uncovered. She was sure the shock she felt showed on her face.
“Unless you are a considerably better actor than I think you are, I would say it’s a surprise to you,” Vos said. Glancing at a piece of paper he dug from his pocket, he began to dial in the combination. When the door of the safe opened, he grabbed a plastic bag from inside and tossed it to the floor. Bundles of bills tumbled out.
“That’s it,” Matthews said, his eyes bright with greed.
“That’s only part of it.” Digging further back Vos brought out a second bag. He looked in and smiled. “Ah, here’s what I was looking for.”
“Not money?” Amanda asked.
“No, Webster was not only stealing money from us but skimming drugs, too.” A third bag came out, and a fourth. “Until Mr. Matthews showed me that letter, I thought the cops had found it all. But here it is and it’s all ours.” Vos reached into the back of the safe, checking to make sure he had everything. “That should do it. We’re out of here, Beal.”
• • •
Sam had started looking for Amanda at her studio but she wasn’t there. Before heading for her house, he stopped at a Starbucks to brood over a cup of coffee. He really didn’t like this assignment. Tracking her down to her house was probably the worst thing he could do. Something was wrong and he didn’t know what. All he knew was it related to the two murders. But he didn’t know how. He knew she was no more guilty of murdering two people than he was. He also knew she was hiding something. Lying to him.
If he had any chance of getting them back to where they were before this all blew up, it depended on finding out what the fuck was going on. He figured he had a fifty-fifty chance of getting her to talk to him so he could figure it out. Same odds for pissing her off so badly, she’d never see him again. He gulped down the remains of his lukewarm coffee and headed out to see which way luck was breaking for him.
When he arrived at her house he was relieved to see her SUV in the driveway. Until he saw what was parked next to it — an old brown Toyota hatchback like the car they thought Beal Matthews drove. And parked at the curb in front was a black Mercedes. Drake Vos’s car, if he remembered right. What the hell was going on? Both Vos and the killer inside with Amanda?
He parked down the hill, out of sight of the house, and after calling for backup walked up to her side yard gate. Quietly, gun drawn, he went round to the back, hoping he could get the door to the basement open without any problem. He’d wait in the basement until backup arrived.
But as soon as he turned the corner into the yard, he was met with a bigger problem — Chihuly, so happy to
see his friend, he barked and barked and barked to let Sam know he was ready to play.
• • •
Amanda heard the noise. “Something’s wrong. Chihuly never barks like that.”
“The hell with the dog,” Matthews said. “We’re out of here.”
Chihuly kept barking, coming closer to the door to the basement.
“Matthews, go outside and see what’s going on,” Vos said. “We can’t afford to get the neighbors curious. One of them already recognized me when I got out of my car.”
Reluctantly, Matthews went to the back door. Amanda’s dog was standing on the other side of the wall of rhododendrons, apparently intimidated by the thorns on the wildly growing rose bushes. The object of his attention hadn’t been afraid of the thorns but his gun hand had gotten caught on a rose cane when he worked his way behind the bushes. Matthews took advantage of Sam’s predicament, chopped at his hand to disarm him and, ripping him free of the thorns, dragged him into the basement.
“Look who was lurking in the yard, Drake,” he said.
“Detective Richardson. To what do we owe this honor?” Vos said.
“Amanda, are you all right?” Sam asked, walking to her and circling her shoulders with an arm.
“I’m okay,” she answered. “Did he hurt you?”
“Aww. This is so touching,” Matthews said. He pulled Amanda away from Sam by grabbing her hair and twisting it. Hard. She yelped. Matthews did it again, seeming to enjoy the pain he was causing. Sam took a swipe at him, connecting with his shoulder but without enough force him drop him.
Regaining his balance, Matthews hit Sam across the face with the gun. “Touch me again, cop, and you’re dead.”
“Touch her again and you’ll be singing soprano for your new friends in the pen. I imagine some of them will like that,” Sam responded.
Vos stepped between the two men. “That’s enough. Focus on what’s important, Matthews — getting out of here.” He grabbed Sam’s arm and pushed him onto another plastic chair.
