Julia was sitting on the edge of her hospital bed waiting, all dressed, hair combed and not looking too bad. Her jacket and a small package of personal items were beside her on the bed. She scowled at Sandy and then leaned back on the bed. “I want out of here. I want to go home. Lester was just here. He kept questioning me about why I tried to kill myself. I pretended to be out of it and didn’t discuss it with him. He finally left. The police said for some reason I can’t leave the hospital.”
“I can get you released, but I need some answers.”
“I don’t want to talk to anyone, least of all you. I know you’re helping Lester, but I just want to go home. Why do I have to I talk with you?”
“Because you need to get over a world of guilt feelings, you have some large problems and you’re depressed.”
“If I were dead I wouldn’t be depressed.”
With that statement, she was reminded her task included not just getting the truth out of Julia, but keeping her from another suicide attempt as well. She was usually good at getting to the truth, with suicide prevention she needed help. She didn’t want to get in over her head. “For starters, Julia, did the hospital have you see a psychiatrist to help you get beyond whatever you’re going through?”
“A man in a white coat was here this morning to talk with me before I could be released. He had a clipboard and was asking questions and checking them off on a form. I explained that I was upset about Charlene Faulk being killed, for one thing. He immediately wrote down that a death of a friend was the reason I tried to take my own life. Not even close—but I didn’t correct him. That seemed to satisfy him. He turned on his heels and left. The nurses were talking about it later—they were aware the shooting happened at my house. They asked if I knew her. I should have said, sure she was my husband’s mistress, so I had her killed.”
“You didn’t have her killed,” Sandy said hopefully.
“If I hadn’t screwed up and got Coleman killed, she might be alive.”
“You needed to get Coleman out of the way for some reason. And I don’t think the reason was to get the two hundred and fifty grand, although somehow you ended up with his money.” Sandy was still piecing together the rest of it. “I don’t think you’re evil enough to kill for money. You killed for something more important than money. How did you get yourself involved in such a shameful thing?”
“It didn't seem shameful, it seemed useful, practical—a simple answer. And that’s what I needed, a simple answer fast.”
“You didn't try to kill yourself over a simple answer.”
“It got complicated fast.”
“Tell me about Coleman.”
“He was a prospect up from Miami Beach looking for some sort of real estate opportunity. He came off as an unsophisticated and untrustworthy character, if you know what I mean. I had an old listing for a small strip mall owned by this elderly citrus grower I’d known for years. You know small time—beauty shop, nail place, consignment shop. Bottom-drawer stuff. Everyone forgot it was even on the market. So, I told Coleman he could steal it for two million if he acted fast. He got interested, thinking he was dealing with some small town yokels. I called the owner and told him I had someone interested. He said he wanted a million for it. He never expected to sell it anyway. The old guy had bought it way back when for peanuts.”
“And a million bucks seemed like all the money in the world.”
“You got it. Anyway, I happened to have dinner with Grant Keller that night, you know the lawyer. And we were laughing that the old guy would probably have a heart attack, if I handed him two million, when all he wanted was one. So, Grant says don’t tell him he can get two. What! I said. Grant says he’ll buy it himself for one million and then resell it to Coleman for two and pocket the million. At first, I thought he was kidding. I protested, but he said the old guy wasn’t expecting any more and had one foot in the grave anyway. And Coleman wouldn’t care as long as he got it for two million. Grant would split the million with me.”
“Finally, you get around to mentioning Grant Keller. That’s who your affair was really with.”
Julia covered her mouth with her hand, her expression was twisted.
“So you and Keller cooked up a real estate swindle. Coleman’s two hundred fifty grand was to seal the deal,” Sandy guessed. “The deposit was in cash, wasn’t it? Didn’t you think it was strange? Didn’t you suspect he was a criminal walking in with cash?”
“There are all sorts of reasons why people hoard cash. It used to be more frequent, like some rancher wants to buy the adjoining acreage and dumps the entire purchase price on my desk in cash. Coleman seemed the type who wouldn’t trust banks. Where it came from wasn’t any of my business. I stuck it in the office safe—it’s still there.” She took in a deep breath. “So I drew up one contract with Keller buying it for one million and took the contract to the old man. He says he has to go out of town and will sign it when he gets back. I draw up the second contract selling it to Coleman for two million and Coleman signs it and gives me the deposit.”
“Sounds like fraud to me.”
“That’s what I told Grant. I told him I couldn’t do all those things. He got angry and said just do it. He’d back me up if there was any problem. So, there we were with a contract to sell a property we didn’t even own. You don’t say no to Grant Keller.”
“So, in addition to selling a property you didn’t own, you two cheated the seller out of a million bucks.”
Julia covered her eyes with her hands for a full minute before continuing. “Then the worst happened. The entire scheme fell apart. The old guy tells me he’s decided not to sell after all. I panicked. Told him I’d sue for breach of contract and so forth. He said he was sorry, go ahead and sue. So I tell Coleman the deals off. He smells a rat. Wants his two hundred and fifty thousand back, of course, and says he intends to sue everyone in sight. Giving him the deposit back wasn’t a problem, but now there’s fraudulent paperwork floating around, and I’m in big trouble. If Coleman asks a lawyer about suing me, it’ll take the guy about five seconds to see through everything. So, I ran to Grant asking what to do. And you know what?”
Sandy guessed, “Suddenly, he didn’t want anything to do with you.”
“Not at that point. He said just take care of Coleman and our problems were over. He didn’t care how, just get rid of him. You see, Sandy, I got myself so screwed up there was no way out. I was thinking the money would make everything possible. If we could pocket the million, Grant promised—.” She looked away.
“Promised what? To marry you?”
She nodded. “I didn’t want to lose him. I’d be left with no one in my life. I totally lost it. I could lose my license and possibly go to jail for fraud. My life was over. Except I thought there was a way out. Since no one else knew about the deal, I could get rid of Ben Coleman. It was my way out, and it all made sense at the time. I could lose my license and my business, or I could get rid of Coleman. I could go to jail for fraud, or I could get rid of Coleman. And perhaps it wouldn’t come down to actually killing him. I’ve always been so ethical and straight laced. But, I felt trapped with no other choice.”
“If you could only get someone to kill the guy.”
“At least scare him off. In fact, I assumed I’d have to be the one to take care of him. That’s when I got out the pistol and loaded it. Holding that gun in my hand was terrifying. I was physically sick that night. There’s a big line between thinking murder and doing murder. I realized I couldn’t shoot anyone. I never considered having Lester do it for me, until the next night, when he came home late looking guilty. I knew he had been having an affair from the very first. I’d been disappointed in our marriage for a long time. I had gone along with his cheating, since it kept him away from me, and he was being discreet. I was mad at everything in the world to start with that night and somewhere in the middle of the yelling—.” She put her head down.
“You conned Lester into it.”
“He
’s easy to control anyway. And with the closing date on the sale approaching, I had to do something. I confronted him about his affair and after some yelling and playacting, I lied and said I was also having an affair, and my lover wanted me to get a divorce. Lester insisted on knowing who my boyfriend was. The more I held off telling him, because I said he’d go after guy if he knew, the more he insisted on knowing. Finally, the idea got through to him. I pretended to relent and cleverly told him Ben Coleman was my lover. In my crazy way of thinking, I held out the hope that maybe Coleman would see this nutty husband running around with a gun, and figure it wasn’t worth the problems. I’d throw a scare into him and say, here’s your deposit back now get out of town.”
“So the argument was all a pretense. You wanted Lester to know all along, so he’d get Coleman out of your life and solve your problem with the fraud. Come on, you couldn’t have really believed a Miami Beach hood would be scared away by a pussycat like Lester. Guns scare people like you and me, Coleman probably teethed on one.”
“But remember, I wasn’t aware he was a criminal at that point, and Leo wasn’t on the scene yet. I believed he was just a flaky guy who was thinking he could strike it rich in real estate. Never dreamed he was dangerous.”
“Regardless, you expected Lester to kill him, didn’t you?”
She shook her head. “I thought it might somehow work without murder. I needed to get rid of him. I didn’t plan on all the complications.”
“Do you know what Lester did with the gun?”
“He brought it home and put it back on the kitchen table. I threw it off the bridge like on TV.” She glanced over at Sandy as if wondering how much to confess. “I held on to the belief that Lester wouldn’t have to kill him, and if he did, he wouldn’t be caught. But it didn’t work out that way.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Meanwhile, Keller is simply sitting back letting you solve the problem.”
“He said he couldn’t be brought into any of it. But we were still okay with each other until Coleman was shot and Lester was on the front page.”
“Now I see the role of Grant Keller in all this,” Sandy said. “When Lester was arrested, Keller got nervous and that’s when he tried to manage things. Am I right? He’s the one who came up with the cute coffee bar alibi for Lester. He’s the one who wanted to confuse everyone and throw the name of Charlene Faulk into the pot. He told you to hint that Charlene was involved somehow with Coleman’s murder. You lied to me about her coming into your office the same day as Coleman. She was never there.”
“I panicked. Keller was saying we were through, and he had to start covering his tracks as though our affair never happened.”
“Cover his tracks? What was he talking about?”
“I have no idea. We would go to a lodge in north county, but I was careful to never be seen. No one ever saw us together around this town. I asked what about me? He said he hadn’t signed either contract yet and would deny he knew anything about whatever crooked scheme I might be trying to pull off. Said he was too busy to talk about it and hung up. That tore me up. He was my last hope. I phoned back, but he wouldn’t take my call.”
“That’s when you gave up.”
“After it happened, I began to feel guilty over what I’d done to Lester, the death of Coleman, the loss of Grant, my ruined reputation, the humiliation if it became a rumor that I took up with some Miami Beach lowlife. I couldn’t handle it all. Just wanted to erase all that had happened. I was sitting on the edge of the bed in a strange hotel with the bottle of sleeping pills in my hand, trying to decide whether to end it—and then I heard the thunder coming down from the sky.” She shuddered and locked her arms across her chest thinking about it. “I can’t believe this is me. I’ve never chiseled anyone in business. My reputation was spotless.”
“Now answer me this, did Grant know you intended to solve your problem by killing Coleman?”
“I suppose not. He never said kill, just said give Coleman his money back and get rid of him.”
“You’ve nothing in writing or anything like that tying him in? What about copies of the fraudulent sales contract? What about the copies you gave Coleman.”
“I hadn’t delivered them to him yet. Grant told me to destroy all the copies, but the seller might still have his. Some old people don’t throw anything away.”
“So if it came right down to it, Grant would just say he scarcely knows you, had no knowledge of any scheme and is shocked and amazed that a business woman such as you would do something so drastic to solve some real estate business problem. I notice he’s not buzzing around the hospital here worried sick he might have lost you.”
“He’s a busy guy, or maybe he hasn’t heard.” She didn’t look as though she believed it. “So what happens now in my pitiful life—go home and think about things? Perhaps eventually, get up enough courage to take sleeping pills again.”
“Don’t you feel better now that you’ve told someone all this? You’ve confessed to me and I’m trying to understand.”
“You are?”
“I understand you were under extreme pressure, felt trapped and have been victimized by Grant. Unfortunately, you weren’t thinking straight and made some bad decisions. I can’t excuse any of it, yet I feel sorry for you.”
“You don’t even know me. You don’t even like me. I just admitted I’m a liar and a thief.”
“True, I don’t particularly like you, but that doesn’t mean you’re not worth helping.”
“So, I need an attorney because I committed fraud. Is that why you’re here?” She paused, and then frowned. “Oh, I get it. You’re trying to be my lawyer, aren’t you? Trying to sign me up so you’ll be representing both of us with double your fees, so you’ll drain our family dry. You’re one sneaky shyster. You took advantage of me when I was just coming out my drugged stupor. I should never have told you all this stuff. I know you’re trying to pull something.”
“Yes, I’m trying to pull your husband out of a first-degree murder charge. I couldn’t represent you if I wanted to because of the conflict of interest in defending Lester. I want you to have proper representation, so you’re not running around talking and screwing up his case anymore than he’s already screwing it up. I hope you cooperate with your attorney better than your husband does with me. A little support would be helpful. Now, do you know someone who can represent you?”
“I know several lawyers. And by god, I’ll start listening to them and not you. I don’t trust you anymore. In fact, maybe I’ll change Lester’s attorney as well.”
“Just be certain you get a good criminal defense lawyer for yourself, okay? And be certain he or she isn’t in Keller’s pocket.”
“It’s all very confusing… and suicide makes everything go away. Am I free to go now?”
“You need a ride?” She didn’t think the woman should be left alone at home.
“Why would you give me a ride? Don’t you have something better to do than look after a wretched excuse for a human being? You’re offering me a ride where, down to the police station?”
“An ambulance brought you here. I’ll take you home. You can start trying to put your life back together.”
“You’re right, I need to go home and get myself together.” Julia slid off the bed, picked up her belongings and followed Sandy down the hall to the elevators.
While walking through the hospital lobby, Sandy called Martin. “Can you stick around the office for a while? I really need your advice. I’m taking Julia home right now. See you at the office within the hour.”
She turned her back to Julia and into the phone with a low voice, said, “I know who killed Charlene Faulk.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
By mid-afternoon that day, Sandy had driven Julia across the Intracoastal Bridge to her lush home on the barrier island. The wide, paver driveway led up to a three-car garage blended in with a two-level British West Indies style home seen just beyond the private courtyard. While not directly on the beach, the f
our bedroom affair had many amenities and the ocean could be seen from the patio swimming pool.
Lester wasn’t there, no sign of where he might be. Sandy waited around until Julia’s girlfriend drove over to be with her. The friend had heard about the suicide attempt and was quite concerned. Sandy doubted Julia would share the true reasons for wanting to take her own life. Julia seemed to be calming down. It was not the time for more questions. She left to meet with Martin and Nigel at the office.
She found them back in Martin’s large comfortable office lunching on pizza. Martin sat easily behind his desk. Nigel had pulled up a side chair.
“I just left Julia at home. She’d had enough of me, was starting to get too defensive. But I need to go back and talk with her again in the morning. I’m hearing a lot of good information, but she needs to get an attorney and tell it all to the police.” She took a slice of pizza, kicked off her shoes and stretched back with her legs up on the couch.
“She and Grant Keller were having an affair, she admitted that.” Sandy continued explaining how the two had entangled themselves in a fraudulent real estate deal, and how Keller had attempted to duck out and leave Julia taking the heat. “Coleman smelled a rat in the deal, thought he was being jerked around and threatened to make trouble. He might not have been a sophisticated real estate investor, but he knew when someone was screwing him over. It wasn’t as simple as giving Coleman his money back as the fraudulent contract might become known after the deal fell through. They attempted to scare him off—with disastrous results.”
“I imagine their big problem suddenly became a huge problem when Coleman was shot,” Martin said. “And somehow this leads to Charlene getting shot, and your suspicion of who did the deed?”
“Keller freaked when his lover’s husband was arrested for murder. His reputation and political aspirations were unexpectedly in jeopardy. Julia was his lover, she was in a fraudulent real estate deal with him and linked him to the murdered Coleman. It didn’t take Keller long to figure out that eventually Julia would be questioned, and she’d be forced to bring him into it. She was a danger that had to be eliminated. If Keller wanted her dead, he wouldn’t do it himself because if their close connection might become known, he’d be an immediate suspect. And since he would never mistake Charlene for Julia even at night in a thunderstorm, he must have used a hitman.”
Into The Heat (Sandy Reid Mystery Series Book 6) Page 21
