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

Page 11

by Marjorie Doering


  Her eyes opened, but she refused to look at him. “Then where were you all this time?”

  “At Amy’s.” He felt her body tense under his hand. “I planned to stay only a minute or two.”

  “So what did she do—hold you there at gunpoint?”

  “I wish you wouldn’t get sarcastic.”

  “So do I, but I can’t seem to help myself right now. Disappointing, I know, but there you have it.”

  Ray sighed and moved on. “How’d the concert go? Is Laurie the next Benny Goodman?”

  “No, but she played very well. You’d have been proud of her.”

  “There’s never been a time I wasn’t.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “I swear I’d have been there, but after I got to Amy’s place, things got complicated. I found evidence on the second floor of her house that could change everything.”

  “You don’t know how right you are.” She slid her arm out of his grasp. “What were you doing on the second floor?”

  “Whoa! Babe, if that’s some sort of accusation, you’re way off course. I went up there to replace a burned-out bulb at the top of her staircase, that’s all.” He stood, unbuttoning his shirt. “I found another bulb out in her master bedroom. That’s when things got even more interesting.”

  “In her bedroom? Yeah, I’ll just bet it did. ”

  “What’s with the jealousy, Gail? That’s not like you. I went to her bedroom to check out a hunch and I got lucky.” Regretting his choice of words immediately, he held out an index finger in her direction. “That’s not what I meant, so don’t even go there, all right?”

  Unnerved by her silence, he moved on in a hurry. “You know, hon, I’ve been convinced Amy was set up from the start. I think even Dick is coming around after tonight.”

  “What makes a couple of bad bulbs so important?”

  “What’s important is that they weren’t burned out; they’d been loosened.”

  A brief silence followed before Gail’s curiosity temporarily displaced her anger. “Then maybe the perp wanted it dark to gain some sort of advantage.” She mulled it over for a few more seconds. “Maybe to hide his identity, or maybe just to make Hugh Conley more vulnerable.”

  “Not bad, babe. It may have been a combination of both. And once Conley was recorded misidentifying Amy as his killer, the shooter must’ve thought he won the lottery.”

  “Wait.” Gail’s face scrunched up. “Who was walking around with a tape recorder?”

  “Nobody. It was picked up on an answering machine.”

  “Hugh Conley was on the phone when he got shot?”

  “A phone line was open.” Ray shook his head. “You’re getting too good at pulling details out of me. Let’s drop it, okay?”

  “Whatever.” She plumped her pillow with a vengeance. “That phone call and answering machine business is an awfully huge fluke, though.”

  “I can’t go into it, besides, I’m beat.”

  “Fine,” Gail said, “but we’re not done yet, Ray. I’m really upset about tonight.”

  With his brief reprieve over, he stood up and sighed. “Okay, let me have it.”

  “I intend to. All of a sudden everything seems to be taking a back seat to Amy, including your daughter.”

  “That’s a low blow, and it’s not even close to being true. What happened at Amy’s tonight was completely unexpected or I’d have been at the auditorium with you and the kids.”

  Gail raised herself up on an elbow. “See? You don’t get it. You could’ve been at that concert with the rest of us if you had just driven straight home instead of making that side trip to see her.”

  “If I hadn’t stopped, that evidence might never have been discovered.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, but it’s not even your case, Ray.”

  “I haven’t forgotten that. I rousted Dick out of his sickbed to come handle it, but that’s not the point here.”

  “You’re right. The point is, you could’ve been at Laurie’s concert with us tonight if you had just come straight home, but you chose to put Amy ahead of your daughter.”

  “That’s bull. I had no idea that once I got there I’d —”

  “That’s beside the point,” she said. “You didn’t have to be there in the first place, but since you were, once Dick showed up, you could’ve let him take over and joined us at that point.”

  “Hey, I dragged Dick all the way back to Elliot Park, knowing he’s sick as a dog. Sticking around to help out felt like the right thing to do.”

  “And staying engaged in your daughter’s life doesn’t?” She spat the words out. “This happens all the time, Ray. I know it can’t always be helped, but how do you think that makes Laurie feel? She’s starting to think she doesn’t matter to you.”

  “That’s crazy. Laurie means the world to me. You all do. Look, if I was an accountant or something, I’d have no problem leaving my work at the office. For a cop, it’s not that easy.” Ray laid his hand on Gail’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about tonight. I am. Maybe you should’ve married a doctor—same kind of cockeyed hours, but with better social and financial benefits.”

  “Idiot,” she said. “I had a pretty good idea what I was in for when I married you. If money and the rest mattered to me, I’d have stuck with Barry Ambrose.”

  “Barry and Gail Ambrose,” Ray said. “Nice ring to it, but the guy looked like Mr. Potato Head. The two of you might’ve turned out a nice bunch of prosperous little spuds, though.” Gail’s smile prompted him to try for another. “I remember you practically having to beat Frank Steele off with a stick sophomore year. Did I tell you that when I was still on the force in Chicago, I heard he was already on wife number three? Maybe he divorced twice, but it’s my guess he bored his first two wives to death. And then there was—”

  “Enough,” she said. “You found fault with everyone who showed an interest in me.”

  He leaned down and caressed her face, kissing her in earnest. Sitting beside her once more, his fingers traced a path along her jawline. “If there was one thing I couldn’t fault them on, it was their taste in women.”

  Gail laid her head down, her face bathed in faint moonlight. “Keep saying things like that and I may just have to forgive you.”

  “Babe,” he said, “could you forgive me now and let me save the endless list of things I could say for another day? I’m exhausted.”

  She pulled the comforter up to her ears. “I guess that’s doable; I’m worn out, too.”

  “About tonight, hon, I can’t change what happened,” Ray said, “but I swear I’ll do better next time.”

  “Right now, Laurie needs to hear that more than I do.” She rolled over, tucking the blue, down comforter around her. “She’s thirteen, don’t forget.”

  “Yeah, thirteen,” Ray muttered, “the gateway to adolescent hell. I’ll go straighten things out with her and be back in a few minutes.”

  On the way to Laurie’s room, he made two quick stops: Krista and Joey’s rooms. Ray pulled the covers up to ten-year-old Krista’s chin, gave her a kiss and moved on. In the glow cast by Joey’s Spiderman nightlight, he adjusted the three year old’s comforter, gave him a kiss and tucked the old Tickle Me Elmo doll Joey had appropriated from Krista beside him.

  Joey woke up and rubbed a pudgy fist in one half-opened eye. “Hi, Daddy.”

  He tousled Joey’s hair. It was thick like Mark Haney’s. Ray recognized the increasing similarities. He’d known that might happen; he simply didn’t care—not from the moment he first held Joey in his arms and looked into his innocent eyes.

  “Go back to sleep, champ. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” He suspected Joey was already asleep before he reached the door.

  When he stepped into Laurie’s room, he felt an undercurrent of tension. She lay still, playing possum. Like mother, like daughter. “Laurie, I know you’re awake. I come in peace,” he said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Not a twitch. “I’m sorry I let you down. Do you want to talk about it—let me have it
with both barrels?” When she refused to answer, he bent and kissed her cheek. “Okay, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, all right? Sleep tight. I love you, sweetheart.” Before he closed her door, he added, “I heard you did great tonight. I knew you would.”

  When Ray returned to his and Gail’s bedroom, Gail was sitting propped up in bed.

  “How’d it go?”

  “She pretended to be asleep. Can’t imagine where she got that from,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I apologized anyway. I’ll have a heart-to-heart talk with her tomorrow.” Ray stripped down to his shorts and climbed under the covers. “I thought you’d have dozed off by now.”

  “I want to hear a bedtime story first.”

  “You don’t say.” He cocked his head. “Which one did you have in mind, little girl?”

  “Tell me the one about ‘Amy-rella’.”

  “Aw, Gail, come on.”

  “No need to panic. I’ve said all I had to say about that tonight. I am curious, though. When you called me from the station, you said something happened to Amy after that parking lot incident yesterday. If my curiosity isn’t satisfied, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

  Ray yawned. “All right, but you’re getting the condensed account.”

  “I can live with that.”

  “All right.” he said. “The contractor who did the upgrades to her house showed up last night demanding payment for a large, past due bill.”

  “Oh, good lord! On the day she buried her husband?”

  “Yeah, the man’s all heart. Anyway, she can’t pay it off right now.”

  “But she has the house and—”

  “All tied up until she’s off the hook for her husband’s murder. And Dick doesn’t even know this yet but, today, Amy told me she found out her husband liquidated all their stocks. Even the bank account balances are lower than he led her to believe.”

  Gail sucked in a breath. “And she had no idea?”

  “Not a clue. He handled all their finances.”

  “She must be going through hell. How’s a person supposed to deal with something like that?” She settled down on the mattress, snuggling close to Ray. “If she hadn’t married Hugh Conley in the first place, none of this would’ve happened.” She laughed at herself before Ray got the chance. “Duh. No one can say I don’t have a remarkable grasp of the obvious. I must be a lot more tired than I thought.”

  For a few minutes, she cuddled closer, laying her head on his shoulder. “Ray,” she said at last, her voice little more than a whisper, “I… there’s something I need to tell you. I planned on taking this to my grave, because it’s not something I’m proud of, but maybe it’s time I ‘fess up’.” She brushed her wavy, auburn tresses from her shoulder. “You know I’ve never questioned you about where you go or what you do when you’re not with me, so it’s no wonder you can’t figure out why that’s changed. The simple truth is that, until now, I never felt the need to know. So why now, you ask?” She sighed. “That’s the part I’m ashamed to tell you.”

  She kissed his shoulder gently before continuing. “Honey, after Neil’s funeral in Widmer four years ago, I followed you and Amy when you drove her from the cemetery to her apartment. When I saw you go upstairs with her, I parked across the street and waited there until you came out.”

  She pressed her hand to his chest to forestall his reaction. “I know. I know. You and I were separated at the time, so whatever you chose to do was none of my business. I realize that, honestly I do.” She forged ahead. “I’d be a hypocrite if I blamed you for that after what Mark Haney and I…”

  Gail paused and took a deep breath. “Honey, you had a right to move on, and spying on you that day was uncalled for, but I loved you then, almost as much as I do now. I had to find out if it was too late for us—if there was any chance you still loved me. That day, knowing you were with Amy was like payback I brought on myself.”

  Sighing, Gail added, “Like I said, I promised myself I’d never tell you about that, Ray, but the truth is that I’m scared. Some men use women and throw them away like an old pair of shoes, but not you. When you make a real connection, you’re not afraid to commit, and that’s what has me worried. You and Amy made a connection in Widmer. Now, the way you’re so involved in her case, I can’t help but worry about where all this is going.”

  Gail waited for Ray to respond. There was no admission, no denial. “Ray?” She waited. “Honey?”

  A gentle snore interrupted Ray’s steady breathing. As unaware of her concerns as he’d been before, he slept in peace. Tortured by her fears and misgivings, Gail removed her hand from his chest, turned over and settled on her side of the bed, staring into the darkness outside their bedroom window.

  At least one of them would be getting some sleep.

  18

  The next morning, the fresh coffee and bacon didn’t diminish the tension; it only masked it with a mouth-watering aroma. When Ray said good morning to Krista and tousled her hair, she bolted from the breakfast table, scolding, “Dad, don’t! I just brushed it!” Evidently, she’d decided to side with her big sister. Laurie barreled down the steps, brushed past him without a passing glance, and brusquely turned down his offer to drive her to school. Joey alone greeted him with a big hug.

  “More coffee?” Gail asked.

  “No, I’d better get going. I’ve still got a stack of case files piled on my desk.” He pulled his coat on and grazed her cheek with a kiss. “I’ll see you later, hon.”

  “How much later?” Gail asked. “Never mind. I’ll keep you penciled in for supper and cross my fingers.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll cross mine, too.”

  Around mid-morning, while Ray was trying to put a dent in his paperwork, Waverly stepped up to the receptionist’s desk at the Benedict Insurance Agency, a handkerchief in one hand, his badge case in the other.

  A shapely, redheaded receptionist smiled up at him. “Good morning. May I help you?”

  “Detective Waverly,” he said, showing his badge. “I’d like to see Mr. Benedict, please.”

  From fifteen feet away, a voice came through an open office door. “In here, Detective.” As Waverly entered, Benedict stood, stretching out a hand in his direction. “What can I do for you?”

  Waverly shook his hand and seated himself in a gray tweed, upholstered chair Benedict proffered with a wave of his hand.

  “I’d like to ask you some questions about Hugh Conley.”

  “I expected someone to do that sooner.”

  “The best laid plans…”

  “It’s all good.” Benedict’s smile gleamed. “So, what would you like to know?”

  “We can start with how you and Hugh Conley met, your business affiliation, that sort of thing.”

  “Sure.” Benedict leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “I hired Hugh about three years ago. He was bright, refined, and articulate—standard requirements for all my business reps. Hugh presented himself well and his good looks were a major plus. You’d be surprised by the upswing looks can have on sales.” He stopped and offered an apologetic, “I’m sorry. Can I get you some coffee or something?”

  “No, thanks.” Waverly blew his nose and massaged his sinuses. “I understand you’d just made Conley your partner. Awfully fast, wasn’t it?”

  “When things fall into place, I don’t drag my feet. Hugh was the right man at the right time.

  I’d been considering opening a new office—even had my eye on a promising location. If things hadn’t turned out like they did, Hugh would’ve been in charge of operations there.”

  “With the million bucks you’re gonna collect on his life insurance, getting that office up and running oughta be a snap.”

  Benedict’s blue-eyed stare radiated wariness. “That project is on hold. Going ahead with the expansion without the right man to run it would be like shoveling my money into a landfill, Detective Wesley.”

  “Waverly.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Wh
ere was this new location?”

  “Let me show you.” Benedict pulled a folded city map out of a drawer and slid it across his desk. “It’s circled,” he said, pointing. “The address is written in the corner.”

  Waverly took a look, copied down the address and popped another throat lozenge in his mouth. “Where were you on Wednesday night—the night Conley was killed?”

  “I don’t need to be reminded what night it was; it’s not something I’m likely to forget.” He picked up a pen lying on his desktop and began clicking it in time to the rhythm of a racing heartbeat. “I was at the airport that night, booked on a flight to Jacksonville.”

  “Booked, yes, but you never boarded.”

  Arching an eyebrow, Benedict smiled. “I see you’ve done your homework.”

  “Does that surprise you?”

  Benedict chuckled. “No, but skirting the issue was worth a try. I’m not anxious for it to get around that I was turned away at the gate. Too much to drink, they said. Impaired. Bullshit. Anyway, Hugh had gotten a message on his laptop and left for home, so he wasn’t going to make the flight either. When they refused to let me board, I booked another flight for the next morning.”

  “I already know about that. What I want to know is where you spent the rest of Wednesday night.”

  Benedict casually tested the soil anchoring a large banana tree plant in a huge pot behind his desk. “After I left the airport, I took a cab to St. Paul.” He brushed damp dirt from his fingers. “I spent the evening at a lady friend’s condo. I stayed there until I left for the airport the next morning.”

  “Her name?”

  “Nancy Ballard.”

  “The redhead at the front desk?” Waverly asked.

  Benedict laughed. “No. I don’t mix business with pleasure, Detective. Bailey Determan is office eye candy, but don’t get the wrong impression; she’s not only nice to look at, she’s efficient. A win-win situation.”

 

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