Targeted: A Ray Schiller Novel (The Ray Schiller Series Book 3)

by Marjorie Doering

  Amy tried to answer, but couldn’t. Moved to compassion, Gail wrapped an arm around her. “I’m sure she didn’t mean that,” she told her. “She’s distraught. She’s struggling through a major loss.”

  “So am I, but Hugh’s family doesn’t see it that way. They don’t even know me, Gail. How can they judge me?” She dried her tears and stepped away. “The two and a half years we were married, I only saw them twice before today.”

  “Twice in two and a half years?”

  “They wanted nothing to do with me, Gail. It wasn’t until they heard I was divorcing their precious son that they drove from Springfield, Missouri to demand that I call it off. They insisted I should make the best of it and keep whatever problems we had to myself.”

  “They sound like the in-laws from hell.”

  “I tried to make our marriage to work, but it never stood a chance.” Amy checked her reflection in the mirror and groaned at the image staring back at her. “I’m a mess, but I suppose I’d better get back out there.”

  “You look fine. Really you do. If you’d like to take a little more time,” Gail told her, “I’ll be glad to stay here with you.”

  “Thanks, but I can’t hide in here forever.”

  “Okay then, Amy, you go ahead. I’ll join you and the others in a minute.”

  It was what Gail intended to do, but by the time she left the restroom, she’d come up with a different plan.

  12

  The dining room had already begun to thin out by the time Gail stepped out of the restroom. Even from a distance, she could see Amy was still shaken by the run-in with Hugh’s mother. Understandable. The tail end of the confrontation Gail witnessed had been ugly; it was fair to assume the rest had been even worse.

  With Ray occupied, she slipped into the bar, seated herself two spots down from Larry Benedict and did a quick visual assessment. In his mid-forties, Benedict still had a full head of dark-brown hair, a trim physique, and a face handsome enough to generate double-takes.

  He turned toward her and let his startling, blue eyes do a leisurely tour of her body. Giving him a sidelong glance, Gail offered a bit of encouragement with a faint smile before facing forward again.

  “What can I get for you?” the bartender asked her.

  “Um…a Bloody Mary, please.”

  “You must be a friend of Amy’s,” Benedict said. “I couldn’t help but notice you at her table.”

  Eyes still forward, she replied, “I’m more of an acquaintance really. She and my husband are…quite close.”

  “The man at the table in the navy suit—he’s your husband?”

  She nodded. Her heart raced as she set about putting her cloak-and-dagger scheme into action. “What about you—a friend of Amy’s or Hugh’s?”

  “Both. Hugh was a business associate, but over the last few years, it turned into more of a friendship.”

  “And that’s how you got to know Amy?”

  “Mm-hmm.” He licked the alcohol off his lips and moved to the stool beside her with a Manhattan in his left hand, the right hand extended. “Larry Benedict.”

  She took his hand. “Gail Schiller.”

  He drew out the handshake until it evolved into hand holding. As the bartender set her drink in front of her, Gail broke the contact and picked up her glass.

  “Are you from around here?” Benedict asked.

  Withholding specifics, Gail answered with another nod. She sipped her drink and, not entirely for effect, shivered. “Brrr. I should’ve stuck to coffee. I’m not cut out for cold weather. Every year around this time, I think about just packing up and heading for a warmer climate: California, Arizona, Florida maybe.”

  Benedict drank Gail in with his eyes before finishing his cocktail. “I was in Florida just last week.”

  She pounced on it. “Where in Florida?”

  “Jacksonville,” he said, nodding. “Sunny. Temperature in the mid-eighties. Sounds like just the place for you.”

  Gail saw his focus shift as she crossed her legs. “Were you there long, Mr. Benedict?”

  “Larry,” he said, his gaze returning to her face. “Not as long as I’d have liked. I was there when I heard about Hugh. I took the next flight back.”

  “Of course.” Gail braced herself and made a giant leap. “Well, I hope what little time you had in Jacksonville was spent someplace nice like the Crowne Plaza Hotel.” Even before his eyes narrowed, she knew she’d moved too far too fast.

  “Bartender,” he said, “give me another.” He studied Gail as she raised her glass to her lips, her eyes no longer on his.

  “Um…a friend of mine stayed at the Crowne Plaza not long ago,” she said. “I suppose that’s why it came to mind; we were just talking about it yesterday.” Gail flinched as a hand grasped her shoulder from behind.

  “I thought you got lost.” Ray’s grip was firm. He extended his hand to Benedict. “Hello again.”

  “Hello,” Benedict said, shaking his hand. “Your wife and I were just having a nice talk.”

  “I see that.”

  Patting the hand still on her shoulder, Gail turned and looked up at Ray. “We were just talking about the weather in Jacksonville this time of year. I was telling Mr. Benedict how highly…uh...Rita recommended the Crowne Plaza Hotel.”

  Benedict threw a fifty on the bar as his next Manhattan arrived. “Could I buy you two a drink?”

  Ray all but lifted Gail from her seat. “Thanks, but it’s time we got going. Nice meeting you,

  Mr. Benedict.” His smile disappeared as he escorted Gail away. He kept his voice low, but there was no disguising his annoyance. “What the hell were you doing?”

  “I was trying to help.”

  “Are you nuts?” He pulled her up short behind a stucco wall. “You’re messing around in a homicide investigation. There’s a whole slew of professionals equipped to handle this; your help isn’t needed.”

  Her back stiffened. “If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I might have been able to—”

  He took her by both shoulders. “Honey, I appreciate what you were trying to do, but don’t do it again, okay? You shouldn’t be cozying up to Larry Benedict in the first place; he could be dangerous. Understand?” Wrapping an arm around her back, Ray ushered her back to the dining area as Amy approached them with her coat over her arm.

  “Ray, Gail, it means a lot to me that you were here. Thank you for coming.” She looked around the emptying room. “Hugh’s family just left. I’m going to go now, too.”

  “You should,” Gail told her. “You need to get some sleep, or at least some rest.”

  “I’m going to try.”

  Ray gave Amy a quick, one-armed hug before helping her into her coat. “Take it easy. One day at a time, okay? We’re going to find out what happened. Trust me.”

  “I do.”

  “We’re leaving, too,” Gail told her. “I promised to be back in time for our babysitter to keep her dentist appointment.”

  “Again,” Amy said, “thanks so much for coming.” With that, Amy walked to the door where Nicole, Jessica and Liz stood waiting for her.

  Ray did a quick scan of the room. Only a handful of stragglers remained. He watched

  Benedict, coat in hand, pluck a cherry from its stem with his teeth and set the empty glass on a vacant table. “No point in sticking around anymore,” he told Gail. “Let’s go.”

  As they stepped outside into a brisk breeze, diesel fumes from a passing bus competed with the aroma of food coming from the restaurant. Turning the corner into the parking lot, Gail pulled her coat collar higher to counteract the chill.

  Ray looked skyward. “At least it stopped raining.”

  Gail stopped short. “Oh, my umbrella—I left it inside.”

  “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll get it.”

  Before Ray was a dozen steps away, Gail’s scream coincided with the squeal of tires. He spun in time to see a blue sedan speeding from the far exit. He was at Gail’s side a second later.
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  “What happened?”

  “Someone just tried to run Amy down!”

  People heading to their own cars stood aside as he sprinted past them. “Where’s Amy?” he shouted to her friends. “Is she hurt?”

  Nicole stepped aside revealing Amy, who was leaning against a car with her face buried in her hands.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “I couldn’t make out the numbers,” Gail said, hurrying to his side, but it looked like the license plate was from out-of-state.”

  Eyes closed, Amy dropped her hands and threw her head back. “They’re Missouri plates. You don’t need the license number; it was my in-laws’ car.”

  Liz Dunham grabbed one of her hands. “Are you sure, sweetie?”

  “Yes. Hugh’s father was behind the wheel.”

  Ray’s jaws clenched. “Stay here while I call it in.”

  Amy grabbed his sleeve. “Ray, don’t. There’s no point.”

  “What are you talking about? You could’ve been killed.”

  “It was all for show. He stopped the car a few feet short of me, then sped off. If he intended to hit me, he could have. Please, just let it go.”

  Ray sighed and laid his hand on the roof of the burgundy Impala sedan beside him. “Does this car belong to one of you?” he asked her friends.

  “It’s mine,” Liz said.

  “Mind if Amy and I use it to talk privately for a couple of minutes?”

  The door locks chirped. “Be my guest.”

  He let Amy in first, got in beside her and shut the door.

  Standing outside the car with Nicole, Liz and Jessica, Gail looked down the street. The Conley’s vehicle was already long gone.

  “What’s the matter with those people?” Gail fumed.

  “It takes all kinds,” Jessica said.

  “But how dare they judge her based on how little they know about her?”

  “They look down their noses at anyone who doesn’t travel in their lofty circle.”

  “That’s contemptible,” Gail said.

  “You got it.”

  “But if they felt that way, why did Hugh’s parents object to the divorce?” Gail shook her head. “Never mind. Sometimes my mouth moves faster than my brain. Conley. St. Mary’s Cemetery. They’re Catholic. Of course they wouldn’t approve.”

  “Don’t kid yourself,” Jessica said, leaning against a fender. “If you ask me, their religious beliefs come in a distant second to keeping up appearances. According to Amy, one of their other sons is divorced. I’m guessing the difference is, he’s the one who filed the papers. It must really have stuck in their craws that Amy was the one who wanted to call it quits. ”

  “Right,” Liz said, tucking her hands into her coat sleeves. “I’ll bet that about knocked them on their asses. Amy should never have married Hugh in the first place, but we all make mistakes. Unfortunately, we always wind up paying for them in the end.”

  Gail crouched and glanced through the passenger window. Amy’s back was to her as Ray spoke with her, his expression gentle and consoling.

  “You’re right,” Gail said, straightening up again. “We certainly do. With interest.”

  13

  Amy and her friends headed back to Elliot Park with Liz holding the steering wheel in a death grip. She glanced at Amy in the passenger’s seat. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

  “I’m fine.” Her tentative smile wasn’t likely to fool anyone.

  “So, tell,” Jessica said, leaning forward in the rear seat. “What was your friend Ray grilling you about?”

  “Ray wasn’t grilling me. Like you said, he’s a friend.”

  “A damn fine-looking one, too.”

  Amy cast a disapproving look over her shoulder. “He was asking about my relationship with the Conleys, if you can call that a relationship.”

  Nicki turned her face toward her side window. “What happened in the parking lot says it all, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Yeah, that’s a fair statement,” Amy agreed. “But they think I killed their son.”

  “You’re not defending them, are you?” Liz asked.

  “No. Even in their position, I can’t imagine myself reacting the way they just did.”

  Nicki turned toward Amy. “You might be surprised what you’d be capable of.”

  Jessica flicked a few golden strands of hair from her forehead. “Hell, Amy, if they’d managed to spend more than five and a half minutes with you, they’d know you didn’t do it.”

  “Well, there’s no changing that now.”

  Nicki stared straight ahead. “The parking lot incident could be just the start.”

  “I don’t think I need to worry, Nicki. They’ve taken their shot at scaring me,” Amy said.

  “And you think that evens their score with you?” Nicki looked out her window again. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

  “Amy,” Jessica said, “what if Nicki’s right?”

  “Either way, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “A brave attitude,” Liz said, driving across South James Avenue, “but maybe a little reckless under the circumstances, don’t you think?”

  “All I know is that I can’t walk around looking over my shoulder every two seconds. Now that Hugh’s gone, I don’t want his family in my life any more than they wanted me in theirs, but until the police find out who killed Hugh, I’m stuck dealing with them.”

  “Even when you’re acquitted, who’s to say his family will accept that ruling?”

  Amy turned to Liz, hazel eyes opened wide. “I appreciate the positive spin you put on that, but now you’ve just given me one more thing to worry about.”

  “Sorry, sweetie.”

  The car traveled two more blocks before Amy broke the awkward silence that followed. “Ray said something back there that got me thinking.”

  Jessica strained against her seatbelt. “About what?”

  “He asked if I had left my drink unattended while I was at Gatsby’s.”

  “Roofies, G-juice, Special K,” Liz said, matter-of-factly. “That has to be what he was getting at, sweetie.”

  “Date rape drugs, right? That’s what I thought,” Amy said. “With all that’s going on, I forgot Detective Waverly had me provide blood and urine samples Thursday morning.”

  “Ah.” Liz gave a knowing nod. “The man’s no dummy.”

  “Did they find anything?” Nicki asked.

  “Ray wouldn’t say, but his questions make me think they did.”

  “So you were drugged?” Jessica gasped and fished a mentholated cigarette out of the pack in her coat pocket.

  “It’s possible. I did leave my drink at the table a couple of times. Anyone could’ve dropped something in my glass. The idea creeps me out, but at least it would explain a few things.”

  Jessica gave Nicki a disapproving look from the corner of her eye. “Somebody should’ve stayed at the table to keep an eye on things.”

  “Why are you looking at me?” Nicki asked. “I didn’t volunteer to be the designated wallflower. You could’ve sat out a dance or two, you know.”

  “It was my birthday…my party,” Jessica said, lighting her cigarette. “That should’ve exempted me from being on guard duty.”

  Liz stopped behind a line of traffic at a red light. “If I had been there instead of at work, maybe I could’ve kept that from happening. My booty’s way more comfortable on a chair than on a dance floor, anyway.”

  “Even if someone stayed at the table, it only takes a second to drop something into a glass,” Amy said. “A brief distraction and it’s done.”

  Jessica took a drag on her cigarette. “I suppose you’re right. Still—” She exhaled a cloud of smoke.

  Liz coughed. “How about rolling your window down.”

  “Sorry.” She opened the window, took one more drag and tossed the cigarette out.

  As the signal changed, Liz tailgated the car ahead of them. “Well, whether they found something
in your system or not, at least it shows they’re checking all the angles.” She steered around a row of orange construction cones. “By the way, Amy, Nicki tells us Larry Benedict stopped by your place Saturday. What was that about?”

  Moving her head until she could see her reflection in the rearview mirror, Jessica tried to rearrange her wind-blown hair. “That guy’s got some serious issues. Hitting on you at your husband’s funeral… What the hell is that bastard thinking?”

  Amy sighed, offering no other response.

  “Okay, I get it,” Liz said. “It’s none of our business, but we’re your friends; we’re concerned about you.”

  They waited out a stubborn, seven-second silence before Amy said, “Larry stopped by to offer his condolences, that’s all.”

  Liz snorted. “After that lengthy pause, you expect us to believe that?”

  “All right,” Amy said, “there was more to it.”

  “Oh, Lord,” Jessica groaned. “I’m not sure I want to hear this, but go ahead.”

  “Larry offered to pay my attorney fees if the case goes to trial.”

  “He what? Oh, Amy,” Jessica said, “tell me you didn’t accept.”

  “Of course not.” She drew a deep breath. “But I didn’t refuse yet either.”

  “You’re not seriously considering it,” Jessica said.

  “I don’t know yet. I’m scared, all right? I don’t have the kind of money it takes to hire a good defense lawyer.”

  “What about Hugh’s life insurance?” Jessica asked. “You do have a policy, don’t you?”

  “Unless or until I’m acquitted, I won’t see a penny of it. Insurance companies are kind of funny that way.”

  “What about your house?” Jessica stammered. “Sell that and—”

  “I can’t. I put up the equity in the house to make bail.”

  “Well, damn,” Jessica muttered. “Okay. What about stocks, bonds, that sort of thing?”

  Amy’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought about that. Thanks. I’ll check that out.”

  “Good,” Jessica said. ”Just for the record, though, I don’t care how tight your money situation is, don’t trust Larry Benedict.”

  “Jessica could be right, Amy,” Liz said. “That huge life insurance policy you said Benedict took out on Hugh might be all the motive he needed to cut their partnership short.”