Into The Heat (Sandy Reid Mystery Series Book 6)

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Into The Heat (Sandy Reid Mystery Series Book 6) Page 15

by Rod Hoisington


  She rolled her eyes at that. “He might be a phony, but his gun was real.”

  Martin explained what he had learned at Frankie’s Sports Bar, leaving out any specific mention of his source whose identity, at least at this point, didn’t need to be revealed. He referred to his source as a ‘server’, which was correct in a manner of speaking. He included his questioning of Holly Davies at The Coffee Mug. He assumed the police had covered much of the same territory.

  She then reviewed her conversations with Leo at the hotel.

  Shapiro asked her, “What can you tell us about Lester Bardner?”

  “He’s obsessive, difficult and wears expensive clothes.”

  “Come on,” Shapiro said. “Not everything about him needs to remain confidential. Protecting your client’s rights is one thing, but we’re here trying to stop this Leo from shooting his gun off in all directions.”

  She reminded them they already had some background on Lester from Jaworski’s interview of Charlene Faulk in their law office. She then summarized any conversations with Lester Bardner that were not incriminating.

  Shapiro wasn’t satisfied. “Sandy, I suspect you know how your client met Coleman and whatever deal there was behind the money. Are you willing to share that with us at this time?”

  “No, I don’t know how they met,” she replied. “Nothing I do know on either count has anything to do with Leo’s willingness to shoot someone to get his money back. I certainly would love to find out the answers before you do. However, Lester isn’t the most cooperative client. I’ve already related what Leo told me in the hotel room—that he’s up here looking for the money Coleman had brought up here. Lester insists he knows nothing about the money. That’s about all I have to tell you.”

  All told, the exchange of information was interesting, time consuming and inadequate. Yet, as Shapiro had hoped, at least the meeting got them all on the same page. He walked with them down to the courthouse parking garage. The thunderstorm had passed, but the heavy rain continued. Two patrol cars were waiting. One unit would take Martin and Nigel to Martin’s home and remain on duty there overnight. Martin and Nigel said goodbye and settled into the back seat.

  Sandy and Mel stood together for a moment next to the other police vehicle.

  “How do you feel?” Mel asked. The pounding rain made it difficult to hear.

  “I’m fine. Worried about Leo, of course. I wouldn’t mind going somewhere quiet for a drink to settle down. But not in this storm.”

  “Is it quiet at your place, Sandy? Why don’t I come over later?”

  “Why not now? Follow us. I don’t want to be alone just now.”

  She got in the front seat of the police car. Mel held the car door for her, and said “Take no chances until we catch this guy.”

  Twenty minutes later, Mel was on her front porch shaking his umbrella. “That officer is to be there at the curb whenever you’re home.”

  Once inside her house, he laughed and said, “The front porch is where I usually get the brush off.” He pulled her close with one arm around her waist. He brushed her slightly wet hair back with the other hand.

  “You’re not bothered by my chaperone out there watching over me?”

  “He’s watching out for the bad guy, I’m the good guy.” He kissed her.

  The kiss was a little too soon and too eager for just stepping inside her house. She broke away casually, making the move appear quite natural. “Come on. I’ve been looking for an excuse to open a special wine I received last Christmas.”

  She brought the bottle and the glasses in from the kitchen, placed them on the glass-topped coffee table in front of the couch and half filled them. After they had their first sips, he settled into the corner of the couch and drew her down close beside him. He put his arm around her shoulders and nudged her closer. She could still hear the rain drumming the roof, although the thunder had stopped. Nestling with him there on the couch, she felt comfortable and relaxed.

  Mel said, “I love the feel of us being close like this.”

  “You still look uptight.”

  “I’m not exactly cozy even though I’d rather be here with you than anywhere else.”

  “Well, I want us both cozy.” She snuggled slightly closer. They sipped the drinks quietly for a minute, and then he said, “Sandy, did you ever spot an attractive man on the street, in a store, or pushing a shopping cart, and you think you’d like to know him better. He’s alone and appears to be available. You wonder how it would be if you really made contact with him.”

  “Seems rather normal.” She wondered where he was going.

  “Well, that’s the feeling I sometimes get when I see you. We’ve known each other for years now and see each other every few days, we sometimes date, we sometimes kiss. Yet, it’s as though I’m watching this attractive woman go about her life, and nothing comes of it. Then you’re gone. You disappear back into your own life. It’s as though I’ve missed the connection with the pretty girl and am left wondering how it would be if I really made contact with her.” He raised his hand to touch her cheek with his fingers, a soft caress. Then he leaned over and gently kissed her forehead.

  She knew when he said he couldn’t get started with her, he meant just her, not that he’d been enduring loneliness and suffering a long walk in the desert without a drink of water. He had no particular reputation regarding female acquaintances as far as she had heard, yet having been divorced for many years, he could be expected to have a few names with one or more asterisks beside them in his directory. The man was routinely out there: speaking engagements, social affairs, dinner parties. Active and popular, he was a well-known personage around town and considered quite a catch, by many.

  She guessed he wanted her to take him more seriously and wanted the next step.

  “You’re a busy guy. I suspect you have some difficulty slowing down and simply relaxing. As far as I’m concerned, I’m enjoying our relationship.”

  He kept one arm around her shoulders, turned toward her and with his other hand on her upper arm, drew her close and kissed her. A sweet and warm kiss, yet for her part it felt as though she was returning the kiss out of sympathy. She truly liked him and was definitely attracted to him, yet pity wasn’t a good reason to be making out. His hand dropped gradually from her arm and rested gently on her skirt at her waist. He leaned in to whisper, “You are exciting.” He kissed her again. His soft lips were different this time. This kiss became eager and hot, she let herself go with it. She began to melt into him. After another moment, she wanted off that couch and closer to him. As they kissed, he slid his hand slowly back and forth feeling the smoothness of her thin skirt along the side of her thigh, and she could feel his warmth through her skirt. She felt herself arch her back to give his hand freedom. His fingers were spread wide as his hand slid around her waist to her lower back and cupped her buttock, gripping it gently. It caught her off guard, and she felt a wave of heat rise in her body. This was the closest they had come to true intimacy. She had the urge to tilt her head back, close her eyes and give him a clear way. She uncrossed her legs and drew in a short breath, so he’d know to go on. His hand moved to the hem of her skirt and caressed her bare knee.

  Unbelievably, his phone rang. They both froze.

  When he stiffened, she said, “You’re not going to answer it. You are not going to answer that phone,” she said emphasizing each syllable.

  It continued ringing.

  Finally, he fumbled for his phone.

  She held back his hand. “Don’t answer it!”

  “My calls are screened, if it rings—it’s important.”

  “It damn well better be earth shattering,” she grumbled.

  He answered, listened and then said, “Well, call one of my assistant state attorneys. I’m not available.” He took a glance at Sandy, whose flared eyes were shooting sparks at him.

  He listened for two more minutes. “I’ve never been more unavailable!” Then he frowned and covered his phone
to ask her, “Charlene Faulk? Isn’t that Bardner’s girlfriend?”

  Her hands flew to her face.

  He listened, took in more information and frowned. “Okay, I’m on my way to the scene.”

  After he hung up, he looked over at Sandy, whose eyes had already swelled up. She was standing with her cheeks pinched between her hands, staring with a horrified look.

  He shook his head, “Shot... dead.” They stood facing each other for an instant before he wrapped his arms around her.

  “Mel, I can’t believe that young woman has been murdered.”

  “Shot... in front of Lester Bardner’s house.”

  “What the hell was Charlene doing at Lester’s house? Damn!”

  “I’m sorry. My presence isn’t necessary at most homicides, but when they mentioned her name—. Of course, we know about her affair with Bardner. At first blush, could be a love triangle.”

  She pushed away from him, looked at him sharply and cried out, “Can you stop investigating for a second. What everyone was doing doesn’t mean shit! Nothing means shit! Nothing means anything!” She instantly had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and felt nauseous. She covered her mouth with her hand and rushed into the kitchen.

  He stood frozen, wanting to comfort her, but understood he should let her have her moment. After a few minutes, he ventured as far as the kitchen door. She was standing with her arms out at the side of the sink, her head lowered.

  “I’m sorry, Sandy. That was insensitive of me to jump abruptly into talking about the investigation. I’ve become too jaded with my job and responsibilities. Too many calls informing me of a dead body somewhere in my jurisdiction. I know it’s not just a dead body... it’s someone’s loved one... in this case, someone you knew and tried to protect.”

  She turned to him, her eyes glistening. She dabbed at her mouth with a paper towel. “More than that, I liked her.” She went back into the living room, reached down and picked up her drink. “It’s crazy and it’s all wrong.” She finished off her drink. “If she had been a stranger I’d have merely blinked hard and carried on. As it is, I’m already on edge, expecting Leo to come crashing through my front door at any time with a cigarette in his mouth and a gun in each hand.”

  “You think Leo is behind this? You kept telling us interrogating Charlene Faulk was unimportant because she had nothing to do with the Coleman murder.”

  “I still believe that. Even so, Leo doesn’t know whether she has any connection. He might have just been watching Lester’s house when she drove up. He just said he’d start shooting. If you had met him, you’d believe him. What happened anyway? Who was there?”

  “I don’t know anything else, but I’ll soon find out. “ He went to her and put his arms back around her. “You okay? I really have to go.”

  “I’m okay now. But I have so many questions and I need to know everything. Can you keep me informed? Go do what good state attorneys do.”

  “You will have a police car in front of your house night and day until this threat is over.”

  She called Martin as soon as Mel had left and informed him that the unbelievable had happened.

  His first response was, “That didn’t have to happen... no reason at all for that to happen. Why on earth was she there?”

  Neither spoke for a minute. Using the silence to console each other.

  Then he said, “What the devil is going on?”

  “All Mel said was, shot in front of Bardner’s house. Leo’s the one who has been making the threats. Then again, maybe someone else shot from the street or a passing vehicle. Maybe from inside the house. I don’t even know if anyone was home at the time. I told Lester to hide in a hotel until all this was over. In any case, no damn reason for Charlene to be within a hundred miles of his place.”

  “At least none that we know of,” Martin said.

  “What do you mean by that? Hey, I’m usually the cynical, suspicious one. We should have done more. We told her not to snoop around, but maybe we should have warned her specifically about Leo. She might have gone there thinking she was helping somehow even though we warned her not to get involved. I still believe it was Leo. Yet why would he even know about Charlene?”

  He said, “What about Julia... now we’re really getting wild. Any reason for Julia wanting her dead? Charlene did discover Keller and her making out in the front seat of his car. Or could Julia have maneuvered boyfriend Keller into killing the girlfriend? No, that doesn’t seem likely, he’s too prominent a figure.”

  “Are you going to tell Nigel?”

  “I’m afraid I must.”

  Her phone rang. “Gotta go, Martin. I’ll call later.”

  She answered, and Mel Shapiro said, “You okay? Still chaotic here, but I thought you should know. A neighbor heard the shooting, came out and saw Lester Bardner in the front yard looking down at the body covered in blood.”

  “He was supposed to be hiding in a hotel! Any weapon found?”

  “Not as yet. Lester claims he heard the shot, looked out and saw her lying next to her open car door. He was home alone. Didn’t know why she was over there. We know he was having an affair with her, maybe he was going to divorce Julia.”

  “The affair was over. And he’d never get a divorce—it would leave him out of money.” Then it occurred to her that Lester wouldn’t be broke if he had Leo’s money.

  Mel said, “Then perhaps he killed Charlene to keep her from revealing their affair.”

  “Leo is the one making the threats, Mel. Let’s assume Leo shot from his car. Anyway, Charlene had no interest in telling Julia. She didn’t want anyone to know she’d been tricked into dating a married man. She got herself out of his life.” Sandy hesitated to tell him more, but he seemed to be about ready to re-arrest Lester. “Anyway, Julia didn’t give a damn, if he had a lover. She already knew, I’d bet on it. She has one herself and would be happy to be rid of Lester.” She bit her lip as soon as she said it.

  “Julia has a lover? You weren’t going to give me that? Who is it?”

  “I wasn’t certain it had anything to do with the Coleman case. You don’t need to know his name.”

  “Lester’s lover was just murdered. Of course, I demand to know Julia’s lover’s name.”

  “Grant Keller.”

  “My god! Grant? Are you serious? This town will turn inside out. It couldn’t be worse if it were the governor. Who else knows Grant is involved?”

  She ignored his question. “What does Julia say about all this?”

  “She isn’t here. Lester says he hasn’t seen her for a couple of days. I thought you might know.”

  “Not a clue. Anyway, my client is now in the clear. None of this has anything to do with Lester shooting Coleman.”

  “No, he isn’t in the clear. Lester murdered once, remember? I’m standing here looking down at a bloody body in his yard. If I’m left with a bunch of unanswered questions, I might arrest him again. This time for killing his mistress.”

  “Mel, I demand that you cease questioning my client at once. I’m coming over there.”

  “You’re his attorney for the Coleman case. Are you suddenly his attorney for the Charlene Faulk murder as well? Okay, we’ll stop questioning him until you get over here. Then we have a lot to ask him, and we need your permission to question him immediately. Take the black and white.”

  “What?”

  “The officer now parked in front of your house… get over here fast. Lights and siren, say that I authorized it.”

  “Oh, I say that to people all the time anyway.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  With both hands gripping her umbrella, Sandy leaned against the rainstorm. She stood watching the crime scene investigation from the front porch of the Bardner home as close to the rain soaked body of Charlene Faulk as the police would allow. Outside the yellow tape, stood a rank of umbrella-tented neighbors shuffling under the rain like motorists trying to get a better look at a roadside disaster. The cops inside the ta
pe had already seen too much.

  It was one thing to learn that someone she liked had died—quite another for her to watch the humbled body being zipped up in a black body bag by the police in their yellow foul-weather gear. Sandy was angry, but she knew it wasn’t about her; it was about a precious life and a useless death. She remembered reading that all deaths come too soon, but that touch of philosophy added no comfort.

  She wondered what Charlene could possibly have known of life in her few short years. Barely enough time to begin thinking about living, before being zipped out of sight, cold, wet and dead. What had she experienced in life before the few weeks of a fantasy fling with Lester? An exciting yet loveless fling, which she’d scored as both good and bad. Of her total lifetime, her involvement with Lester was a mere split second—a brief encounter now proven fatal; the collateral damage of someone else’s wrongdoing. Much of her talk in the office had been about being lonely; had she ever experienced romance in her short life? Whatever the opposite of loneliness is, Charlene might never have known it. She could not have looked lonelier lying there on the rain soaked lawn.

  At last, the scene was quiet. The police vehicles with their blazing red-blue rack lights had left the scene, along with the Medical Examiner’s van bearing the body of Charlene Faulk. Her car was also hauled away. When the jumbo, satellite TV van closed up and sauntered away, the show was over, and the last of the neighbors drifted back into their homes. Two police officers in their vehicles remained stationed silently at the curb. One would stand watch over the yellow-taped crime scene until CSI returned in the morning to continue in the light of day; the other was assigned to safeguard Sandy.

 

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