Noelle remembered coming across an explanation of the designation in a magazine article she’d once read. “That’s a term used for a disease that’s so rare that there’s no known funding to find a cure for it since so few people would benefit if one was discovered.”
Valri looked back at the screen. “Well, that sounds like a worthy charity.”
“I think that’s the whole point,” Duncan commented, coming around to take a look at what his sister had come up with. “Can you track down who runs that foundation and where it’s located?”
Valri nodded, already inputting information to begin the search. She paused for a moment, reading. “Looks like there are several holding companies involved so this might take me a while to track down the various companies to a single source.”
“Do what you can, kid,” Duncan urged. “My money’s on you.”
As her brother began to walk back to his desk, Valri said, “I did find the name of one of the insurance companies that issued a policy.”
Duncan pivoted on his heel, turning to face her again. “That’s my girl,” he declared. “What is it?”
“Woodland Life. They insured that old guy who ran into the pole. Walt,” she recalled. “I’m still working on the others.”
Maybe they could call the company and find out the name of the actual agent who sold the policy to Walt, Noelle thought. But not before she had some standard pieces of information.
She placed herself on Valri’s right side. “We’re going to need his date of birth and his social security number, as well as the face amount of the policy—and the type.”
“Type?” Duncan repeated. “Since when are you such an expert on insurance?”
“I retain a lot of trivia that I read,” she told him with a careless shrug.
“You mean like a photographic memory?” he asked, surprised.
“Something like that.” Her tone was dismissive. She didn’t want him making a big deal of it. But the truth of it was that she remembered practically everything she read or experienced.
“Give me a sec,” Valri said. There was a burst of keys being pressed, and then she looked up. “He was born October 7, 1930.” She proceeded to rattle off Walt’s social security number and concluded with the face amount of the policy as well as the type of policy that had been issued. “It was a ten-year term life insurance policy for a hundred thousand dollars and it was issued a little more than two years ago.” Valri looked up, slightly puzzled. “A hundred thousand is a lot, but is that enough to kill for?”
“It is if you don’t have it,” Noelle pointed out. “Where’s the company’s home office?”
Valri held up her index finger as she scrolled down the virtual page. “Dearborn, Michigan,” she said, reading the address.
Duncan sincerely doubted that Walt would have flown to Dearborn to sign the papers. “How about a satellite office?” he asked.
Valri went to the page that delineated the location of several nearby offices with the aid of a zip code. “Got it! They’ve got one in Shady Canyon,” she read, then rocked back in her chair. “Wow, small world, huh, Duncan?” she observed, glancing toward her brother. For them, as well as the newly discovered branch of the family, Shady Canyon was home.
“Give me the address,” Duncan requested.
Writing it down on a half-used pad she found in the corner of Anderson’s desk, Valri handed the address to him.
* * *
The address that Valri had uncovered brought them to a five-story building that was partially gutted by fire. It was also scheduled to be demolished later that month.
“Well, if there ever was a satellite office here, it’s gone now,” Noelle declared, clearly frustrated by this latest dead end. “I’m beginning to feel like we’re just chasing our tails,” she complained as they walked back to Duncan’s vehicle.
“Not that the image isn’t an intriguing one,” Duncan commented, glancing at what he had already discovered for himself was her very shapely posterior, “but there has to be some lead we can follow. Whoever is behind all this can’t be some criminal mastermind like they portray in the movies. Most criminals tend to be on the dumb side, which means that he or she will slip up, most likely sooner than later.”
“Maybe this criminal didn’t read the criminal handbook,” she quipped drily.
The law of averages was on their side, Duncan silently insisted. “Even if they didn’t, he or she is going to make a mistake.”
“We can only hope,” Noelle said with a sigh as she got back into the car. “Meanwhile, I get to tell Lucy she was right. Not that that’s going to make her feel very happy,” she predicted. “I’m sure this will be one time that she’s going to wish that she was wrong.”
“Yeah, but if it wasn’t for your grandmother, you wouldn’t have ultimately stumbled across this insurance scam,” Duncan reminded her. “At least Lucy can take some comfort in that.”
“You have a point,” she agreed as Duncan pulled away from the curb. “But at her age, it’s hard to lose friends.”
What his partner said wasn’t totally accurate in his opinion. “It’s hard to lose friends at any age, but Lucy strikes me as the type who always picks herself up again, and right now, I get the impression that Shamus would like to give your grandmother a hand up to get her back on her feet.”
Seeing an opening to make better time, Duncan shifted lanes and merged to the left.
“I’ve only met the man a few times myself but that last time, at Brennan’s wedding, I know I saw a definite gleam in his eye when he was talking to Lucy.” He slanted a grin in her direction. “You know that old adage about when one door closes, a window opens.”
She laughed to herself. “You might have a point there. Windows are always opening for Lucy,” she said.
Still, telling her grandmother that someone had murdered her childhood friend was not going to be a piece of cake.
* * *
By the end of the day, Valri was still trying to untangle the labyrinth that engulfed not just one foundation but all four of them. Each had a different network of holding companies obscuring any clear picture of the foundation and its goals as well as its founders and prominent donors.
The uniformed officer was literally focused on nothing else except the ever-changing screen of her borrowed laptop.
Coming up behind her, Noelle laid a hand on the younger woman’s shoulder. Valri nearly jumped.
That convinced Noelle even more that this woman needed some rest.
“Valri, go home,” Noelle urged. “Tomorrow’s another day, maybe you’ll have better luck in the morning.”
“C’mon, kid,” Duncan said, adding his voice to his partner’s, “it’s time to pack up your stubborn streak and go home. We need you sharp. Punchy, you’re not any good to us.”
Valri didn’t even look up. “I just need another half hour.”
“And you’ll have it,” Duncan promised, then added, “Tomorrow.”
Valri opened her mouth to argue, but then seemed to reconsider. “Okay,” Valri agreed. “See you in the morning.” With that, she powered down the laptop, waited until the screen went black and then picked up the shoulder bag she’d brought with her when Duncan had escorted her up here.
Noelle remained in the room until she was satisfied that Valri was really leaving the squad room and going home.
When his sister finally walked out, Noelle looked at her partner. “You’re very forceful with your sister.”
He wasn’t sure if that was admiration in Noelle’s voice or surprise. His answer would have been the same either way.
“Valri knows I can take her,” he said with a laugh. Duncan followed her out of the squad room and to the elevator. “You want to grab something to eat?” he suggested.
“I think I’m actually too ti
red to chew,” she told him, shaking her head. “Besides, I still have to tell Lucy she was right about Henry’s death.” And though it provided a kind of closure for her grandmother, she was still dreading having to say the words to her.
“Need some backup?” he asked. The elevator car that arrived was filled to capacity. He waved it on.
Noelle was about to turn down his offer, then thought better of it. “Yes, that would be very nice of you.”
The next elevator car was empty. They got on. “I live to please.”
Noelle smiled. “I think you covered that pretty well last night.”
Duncan grinned, but for once, said nothing. He didn’t have to.
Chapter 17
“I was right, wasn’t I?” Lucy said the moment Noelle and Duncan walked in. It was more of an assertion than a question. “Henry didn’t die of natural causes or because he was seventy-nine, did he?” Noelle’s grandmother looked from her to Duncan, no doubt growing certain by the moment. “He died because someone killed him and made it look as if he’d died in his sleep.” The woman closed her eyes and shook her head. “I knew it.”
“Lucy, I haven’t said anything yet,” Noelle protested. She’d wanted to somehow soften the blow for her grandmother, not just have the fact blurted out like some player shouting “Bingo!” at a weekly game.
“You don’t have to,” Lucy told her as the woman crossed to them in the living room. “It’s right there, all over your face. Don’t ever play poker, kid. They’ll clean you out within the first couple of hands,” Lucy warned. And then she turned to look at Duncan. “So what are you going to do to catch this SOB who did away with my friend?”
“First we have to figure out who the SOB is,” Duncan replied.
He felt for the woman. Beneath the bravado he could detect a layer of pain. He’d seen it countless times before, the frustration felt by the family and friends of a victim, forced to stand on the sidelines, wanting to do something and feeling absolutely helpless at the same time.
Lucy frowned, as if the answer was obvious and right in front of them. “Well, since nobody at the home had a beef with him, my guess would be whoever was on the receiving end of that stupid life insurance policy he had.”
Leaving her shoulder bag on the coffee table, Noelle removed her service weapon as well as her backup piece and placed it inside of a small lockbox on the top shelf of the coat closet. “Lucy, what do you know about the foundation Henry left his money to?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Lucy said flatly. “He never told me about the organization, although I know that Amanda woman must have had something to do with it,” she insisted, referring to the volunteer she’d locked horns with the morning Henry was found dead. “But even if it’s legitimate, charities have been known to have embezzlers in their organization. Maybe someone needed money to get them out of a jam and saw a way to make a quick buck by getting the life insurance money.”
Avoiding Duncan’s eyes, Noelle felt she needed to rein in her grandmother’s suspicions, at least for now, even though she’d already voiced the idea to Duncan earlier. She didn’t want Lucy working herself up until they had some concrete proof.
“That’s a little far-fetched, Lucy.”
“Is it?” Lucy countered. “Henry’s dead, isn’t he? And someone made him that way. Without an enemy to point to, the insurance money is the first thing that pops up. I don’t think a foundation would look to get rid of him, but a person, well, that’s another story.”
“Your grandmother’s one sharp lady, O’Banyon,” Duncan commented.
Lucy beamed at him and for one moment, the sorrow left her eyes. Noelle blessed him for that.
“Thanks, handsome,” Lucy said. “So, what are you and Noelle going to do about it? If it were me, I’d march right up to that foundation and demand to start looking at their books. Maybe the insurance money wasn’t even sent to them. Maybe it was detoured,” Lucy said, the idea coming to her as she spoke.
“Not as easy as it sounds,” Noelle said, trying to curb her grandmother’s imagination before it ran off with her.
“Why?” Lucy challenged, her hands on her hips. For a little woman, she was formidable.
“Because we’re not sure just where this foundation is located or who actually runs it. Finding that out is going to take more digging,” she told the older woman. “It appears that there are a number of holding companies involved.”
Lucy frowned, doing her best to cut through and simplify the rhetoric. “What are they holding?” Lucy asked.
“The truth, hostage, apparently,” Noelle answered.
Duncan took Lucy’s hands in his, instantly commanding her attention. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Lucy,” he promised the woman. “You have my word on that.”
Until this moment, she had thought of her grandmother as a sort of iron butterfly. But she could see that Lucy never stood a chance against Duncan. The man wielded charm as if it was a sharply honed sword.
“Good enough for me,” Lucy finally responded when she regained her composure. So saying, she then slanted a glance at her granddaughter. “You found a good one, kid.”
“I didn’t ‘find’ him, Lucy. Cavanaugh was thrust on me by Lieutenant Jamieson six months ago,” she clarified.
“Doesn’t matter how it happened, just matters that it did,” Lucy told her with an enigmatic smile. “Okay, unless you two want me hanging around babysitting Melinda in case she wakes up, I’m going to be heading home.” She looked from her granddaughter to Duncan, waiting for either to tell her to remain. “Going, going, gone,” she declared, doing a countdown like an auctioneer.
Lucy crossed to the front door. “Okay, I’ll see you in the morning.”
Pausing there for one last wave, the next moment Lucy was gone.
Duncan glanced at his wristwatch. “Well, I’d better hit the road, too,” Duncan said. “Unless...” he began, his eyes meeting hers.
She knew it was better for both of them if she’d just agree to his departure plans and walk him to the door. The last thing she wanted was further entanglements. As it was, it was going to take her a while before last night did not spring up in her mind like the proverbial gangbusters.
However, her brain seemed determined to play devil’s advocate and she gravitated to the word that was hanging in the air between them.
“Unless?”
“Unless you’d like me to hang around for a while,” Duncan offered, then completed his thought. “You know, for company.”
Tell him that’s okay. Tell him you’re fine and don’t need any company. For heaven’s sake, tell him to go!
None of her thoughts made it to her lips. Instead, Noelle smiled at him in response and said, “That would be very nice.”
Turning on her heel, she made her way to the family room and sat down on the sofa. Duncan followed and took a seat beside her. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her to him in a movement so fluid, so natural, it was as if they’d been like this for years.
Duncan heard her laughing softly to herself. “What?” he asked, curious.
Shifting her head on his shoulder, she looked up at him, doing her best to ignore the little somersault her heart executed. “When I first came on the job, you were this hot bachelor—”
“Still am,” he deadpanned.
“Granted,” she allowed with an amused smile. “But back then, it seemed like you had a hot date waiting for you almost every night and I had the impression that outside of the job, all you did was party. Constantly. I used to wonder how you kept going.”
“Vitamins,” he quipped, and then added in a voice that was slightly more serious, “And it wasn’t quite every night.”
“Certainly seemed that way to me,” she answered. “Especially if I went according to what you said.”
&nb
sp; “I might have exaggerated a little,” he conceded, his mouth curving at the corners. “After all, I had a reputation to maintain.”
She laughed shortly at the mention of his so-called “reputation.” “I thought you were this insufferable egotist. It took me a while to realize you weren’t a half-bad detective.”
“Half-bad?” he echoed, sounding as if he was taking offense.
Had she insulted him? She hadn’t meant to, especially not when he’d been incredibly thoughtful toward her grandmother as well as toward her.
“Weren’t half-bad,” Noelle emphasized. “Actually, you turned out to be pretty good,” she amended.
Duncan cocked his head, pretending to think over her revised sentence. “Better,” he allowed, “but not there yet.”
She shifted against him so that her mouth was closer to his as she asked, “And just what would bring me ‘there’?”
“We’ll have to work on that,” Duncan said as he gave in to the moment and the woman.
Brushing his lips against hers, he waited for Noelle to pull back, or murmur that she was too tired, or just give him a look that would tell him there would be no repeat of last night, at least not tonight. He made it a point to never take anything for granted when it came to a woman. Just because they had made love one night did not automatically mean that lovemaking fell under the category of business as usual. Or that a repeat performance was even in the offing.
Much as he caught himself wanting her, wanting her even more than the first time if that was possible, he was willing to give her space if she needed it.
As tempting as her lips had just been, he held off kissing her again.
And waited, mentally crossing his fingers and, for a second, holding his breath.
But space wasn’t what she wanted. He was what she wanted and she made that clear to him in no uncertain terms when she kissed him, putting her heart and soul into the simple contact.
She’d very easily stolen his breath away and heated his body in one quick swoop.
Cavanaugh Strong Page 18
