“That’s a good point. The temp workers were long gone when Schroeder and his boys were asking questions. Let me ask the caterers and see if they remember their repeat hires. I know I’ve been able to recognize several faces today already. In fact, tonight would be a great time to ask questions. The senator has doubled his orders for this reception, so there’re twice as many workers in the kitchen as usual.” He paused for a moment. “Now you’ve got me curious, Molly. I’ll start asking questions and see what I find out.”
“Thank you, Casey. I really appreciate that. We may not find out anything, but at least we asked. That’ll make me feel better.”
He peered at me again. “There’s little chance of ever catching the scum who killed your niece, you know that, don’t you? Even if one of these folks saw something, we’d never be able to get them to testify or even give a statement. At the mere mention of the police, they’d disappear back into the shadows.”
“I know, but at least I’ll feel like I did something. I guess I’m still frustrated the police have nothing to go on. And I keep wondering if somebody somewhere saw something that night. Something, anything that might help find the killer.”
“I just wish I’d been outside when that guy appeared on the scene. He never would have approached Karen’s car if he spotted security.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. I’ve done a number on myself too. I was feeling guilty that Karen was making phone calls outside, rather than going home first. I’d asked her to come home with me to spend the weekend with my cousins in Virginia. But my friends pointed out that Karen would have stayed at the reception with or without me. Her entire office was here.”
Casey eyed me. “Don’t forget, her boss Jed Molinoff was the real reason your niece was still outside.”
Hearing Casey mention Jed gave me an opening. “Can I tell you something in confidence? Something that I’ve only told Danny, your former commanding officer, retired Colonel DiMateo.”
Casey finally cracked a smile. “He was Lieutenant DiMateo when I knew him.”
“Did you guys actually call him ‘Double D’?”
“We called him Lieutenant. ‘Double D’ was strictly amongst ourselves.”
I couldn’t resist. “What’s it stand for? Other than the double initials?”
“Off the record? Damned Dangerous. He was scary brave, but we’d follow him anywhere.”
Damned Dangerous. I’d have to ask Danny about that. “Okay, then, off the record. I’ve been contacted by Celeste, one of Karen’s friends in the congressman’s office, and she alerted me to some of Jed’s strange behaviors since Karen’s death. He rehired a guy, Larry Fillmore, that Karen had insisted he fire earlier because of bad behavior. When Celeste asked Jed about it, he got mad and demoted her to the Records office. Then this guy, Larry, started bothering her at work. I checked out this guy with a Washington source, and she said he’s got a history of being transferred from offices, often for problems with female staffers.”
At that point, Casey’s expression changed from skepticism to interest. “That’s easy enough to check.”
“I already did. Apparently his ex-wife also filed a restraining order on him a few years ago. Over a week ago, Celeste started getting hang-up phone calls on her answering machine every day. But last night, everything got kicked up another notch. Celeste called and said she came back from her evening workout run and found that someone had been in her apartment. And whoever it was deliberately left signs of his entry. Drawers open, things moved around on her desk. She thinks he was checking her computer data files, too.”
Casey’s expression had hardened. “How credible is this girl? Do you think she’s a head case?”
“I believe her. As I said, an old friend with impeccable connections validated Larry Fillmore’s tawdry history, and we’ve both seen Jed’s erratic behavior in action. Danny was with me last night, and he thought the break-in could be a message to Celeste to stop asking questions.”
“That’s possible. But it’s more likely she was vandalized by some random sicko who likes to paw through women’s underwear. Tell me, how’s this Celeste taking it? She must be pretty spooked.”
“Yeah, she was. Celeste packed her bags last night and headed out of town. And she’s quit her job in Jackson’s office. We met at a coffee shop so she could say good-bye.” I didn’t mention the data storage drives.
Casey peered at me. “Where’re you going with this, Molly?”
“I’m not sure. All I know is my antennae have been buzzing on Jed Molinoff for the past few weeks. Ever since I saw him coming out of Karen’s apartment after her death. He rifled her desk and took some photos.”
His eyebrows raised. “Do you think he broke in?”
“He obviously had a key. Karen told me they were having an affair, so I’m betting he went back to eliminate any traces. To keep the wife and kids back home in Nebraska from finding out.”
Casey gave a wry smile. “Well, that’s the most logical explanation.”
“I was ready to write off Jed’s behavior as cheating-spouse panic until Celeste called. Her story makes me wonder if something else is going on with Jed Molinoff. If so, I want to find out what it is.”
“How do you propose doing that?”
Casey’s skeptical expression had returned. So I tried to appear disarming. “Well, I’m not sure. I’ve exhausted all my gossip and search sources. So, I guess I’ve got to find some more.” I gave him a sideways smile. “You’ve worked in security and law enforcement. Any suggestions?”
Casey smiled knowingly. “If you’re asking if I do surveillance work, the answer is ‘not anymore.’ You can burn out on that pretty quickly. And I wouldn’t advise you to start snooping around, either. Especially not on a congressional chief of staff.”
“Don’t worry, Casey. I wasn’t planning on peeping in windows. I’ll stick to asking questions.”
Casey’s BlackBerry sounded and he motioned to me as he stepped away to answer. “Later, Molly.”
I needed to return to my office and get back to work. My cell phone was on my desk, fairly quivering with messages, no doubt. As was my computer email inbox. Swishing the last of the coffee in my mug, I decided that a third mug would be necessary this morning. Peter was right. They would have to scrape me off the ceiling before the Western delegation arrived tonight.
Sixteen
“Molly, your father is rolling in his grave right now, you know that, don’t you?” a long-time Democratic party staffer rebuked. “How can you betray your father’s principles like that? You should be working for the Democrats!”
Only the better-quality Sauvignon Blanc allowed me to moderate my response to the irate Denver Democrat. “I haven’t betrayed any of my father’s principles, Carl, and you know it. Senator Russell may be an Independent, but he’s picked up Robert Malone’s mantle and run with it. You guys dropped it in the dirt in that last campaign. All that partisan bickering between Democrats and Republicans, I could barely watch the news. It was all I could do to drag myself to the polls in November.”
The old-line Democrat blinked at me, surprised by my sharp response. I drained the glass, glad that I’d only had one so far.
Figuring I’d better redeem myself for the senator’s sake if nothing else, I gave him my brightest campaign smile. “Believe it or not, Carl, we’re all batting for the same team. Helping Coloradoans, right? That’s why I’m here. And I know you are too.”
Carl frowned petulantly. “Still, you should be on our team, Molly. It’s just not right. It’s …”
He struggled for some other words that might convince me. Trouble was, I’d had a lifetime of listening to words. They were no longer enough. I needed action now. I wasn’t sure when that shift had taken place inside, but I could feel it. Whether or not Russell would be able to deliver more than words, time would tell. Th
e front door opened both ways.
I was about to maneuver the disappointed Dem to the bar so I could hopefully escape when Peter came striding toward us. Rescue was at hand. I caught his eye and gave my please-take-this-guy look.
I’d been verbally flogged by every Colorado Democrat for the past two hours. All that saved me was escaping to the buffet tables. I’d be dieting for two days after tonight’s binge. But it was the only way to keep my former colleagues mellowed. Democrats were easy that way. Feed them and show them the bar. Republicans were trickier.
“Good to see you, Carl. I figured I’d better run interference before you convinced Molly to jump the fence again. Pardon me for gloating.” He did a poor job of concealing his glee.
“He was pitching hard,” I jumped in before Carl could start another tirade. “I’m sure you gentlemen will excuse me for a few minutes.”
I was about to make a dash for freedom when Peter placed his hand on my arm. “Casey wants to see you. He’s in the kitchen hallway.”
Peter returned to mollifying the Denver Democrat while I skirted around the edge of the living room, hoping no other Westerner would drag me into another heated conversation. Holding my empty glass in front of me, I looked like just another thirsty political staffer headed to the bar.
I spotted Casey down the corrider that lead toward the kitchen. “Peter said you wanted to see me.”
Inside the kitchen the catering staff was busily moving into dessert mode, loading trays and plates. Silverware clanking, glass dishes clinking together. The aroma of coffee filled the air as the giant urns started revving up the brew.
Casey bent his head closer as two workers passed by, trays in hand. “Michelle and Natalie pointed out some of the temp workers they’ve had these past two months, and I got one of the other workers to help me ask questions. And believe it or not, one guy remembered seeing a woman sitting in her car when he was taking a smoking break outside.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Did he see anything else? Did he see someone come up to the car?”
Casey met my anxious gaze with a steady one. “As a matter of fact, he did see a guy come up to the car and talk to the woman, then get inside the car. And he recognized the man because he’d seen him at the reception.”
“What!”
Casey’s gaze hardened. “It was Jed Molinoff. The temp worker said he recognized him as the same guy I had to calm down at the party. He also saw Molinoff leave Karen’s car after a few minutes and walk down Q Street.”
I stared back at Casey, momentarily speechless. Meanwhile, my heart pounded so hard I could barely breathe. Anger started to rise. “Dammit to hell …” I whispered.
“Your antennae were right on, Molly. That son of a bitch Molinoff doubled back around the corner and returned to Karen’s car. He was the last one to see your niece alive, and he’s been hiding it all this time. We’ve got to tell Schroeder about this.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Where is this guy? What’s his name?”
“Forget about it, Molly. He’s pretty spooked already. There’s no way he’ll stay here long enough to talk to the police. He’s about ready to jump ship right now. Sweating buckets when we questioned him.”
“Then how can Schroeder confront Jed if he doesn’t have a witness?”
“Let’s leave that to Schroeder, okay?” Casey recommended. “He’s an old pro. He can put pressure on Jed and see if he cracks. Maybe he’ll admit he went to see Karen. And who knows? Maybe he saw someone lurking about in the area when he left. Maybe.”
“And maybe not. Maybe all Jed Molinoff did was keep Karen from finishing her phone calls. That’s why she was still sitting in the car when that thug walked by. Bastard.” I looked Casey in the eye. “I knew Jed was responsible for Karen’s death. I could feel it.”
“That’s stretching it, Molly.”
“It’s his fault she was in her car so late. She was calling to find another staff job. Maybe she’d already found one. If Jed hadn’t shown up to harangue her again, she would have been out of that car and gone.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“I don’t have to know it. I can feel it.”
Casey watched me. “Let Schroeder handle this, Molly.”
I pulled my BlackBerry from my pocket and flipped to my directory. “What’s your cell number, Casey?”
He paused for a second, then rattled off the local number. “Can I ask you a favor, Molly?”
“Sure.”
“I can tell you’re mad as hell, but make me a promise, would you? Don’t do anything without checking with either Danny or me, okay?”
I could live with that. “Deal.”
_____
The taxi had barely pulled away from the sidewalk in front of Russell’s mansion before I dialed Celeste’s cell number. I didn’t care if it was nearly eleven at night.
Her voice sounded anxious when she answered after three rings. “Molly? Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, Celeste. Everything’s okay,” I lied. “I just wanted to check how you were doing.”
“Did you get my email this morning?”
“Yeah I did, but I wanted to hear your voice. Just being a mom, I guess.”
“Thanks, Molly,” I could hear her smile. “That feels good. There’s no way I can tell my mom about this stuff. She never wanted me to come to Washington anyway.”
“Your mom’s a smart woman. Maybe a trip home wouldn’t be a bad idea, Celeste.”
“Yeah, I might do that. After I figure out this job situation. Then, I’ll know what I’m doing. Right now, I’m actually enjoying being here on the Bay. My aunt’s house was all closed up and covered in dust. But it’s a block from the beach, so I take long walks every morning and at sunset too. It’s really peaceful.”
I could picture her sitting on a porch, staring out at Chesapeake Bay. Peaceful. I could use some of that myself.
“Well, that makes me feel better, Celeste. Listen, you stay in touch, okay? I’ll look for an email every morning, otherwise, I’ll be checking in on you.” I made sure my tone was warm and maternal.
“I will, I promise. But feel free to call me anytime. I can always use a little mothering.” She actually laughed.
“I’ll do that. Now you get back to planning your next career move, okay?”
“Will do. Talk to you later.”
I clicked off, still feeling unsettled despite the cheerful tone in Celeste’s voice.
The taxicab pulled up in front of my house. Light shone from every window. After Celeste’s home break-in episode, I decided I no longer wanted to come home to a pitch-black house at night. I paid the driver and exited the cab, still clutching my cell phone. There was another call I wanted to make.
Racing up the steps, I dug out my house key while searching through my directory in the dim light of the streetlamp. Once the front door closed behind me, I paused only a moment before punching in Danny’s number.
He answered on the third ring. “Molly, are you all right?”
“No, I’m not. I want to rip out Jed Molinoff’s throat.”
“What happened?”
“I asked Casey to question some of the kitchen staff about the night Karen died, and one of them saw Jed get into her car late that night. After Casey showed him the door.”
There was a pause before Danny replied. “Are you still at the senator’s or at home?”
“I’m at home. I’m sorry to be calling so late, but I need some tactical advice. I’ve been living on caffeine and canapés and no sleep since yesterday, and I’m getting madder and madder by the minute. I need to bounce all this off someone who’s still rational before I decide how to confront that bastard.”
“I’ll be right over. Can I make a suggestion?”
“Please,”
I said, letting my anxiety show.
“Don’t drink any more coffee.”
_____
“Sanity must be resurfacing, because I’m feeling majorly guilty about calling you so late,” I said as Danny stepped into the foyer. I noticed he had a bottle of wine in his hand. Dressed casually, he looked amazingly relaxed considering it was after midnight.
“No problem. I said you could use me as a sounding board anytime, and I meant it.”
“You might change your mind after tonight,” I said as he followed me into the living room.
Danny held up the bottle. “First, the wine. Then you can start the debriefing. That’s an order, corporal.”
I found a smile for the first time in the last two hours. “It is, huh? Okay, Squad Leader, follow me.” Beckoning him to the kitchen, I pointed to the cabinets. “Corkscrew’s in that second drawer.” Opening another oak cabinet, I found the wineglasses Nan had loaned me until I could retrieve my own things from Colorado.
Danny popped the cork then proceeded to pour the rich, dark red into both glasses.
“No breathing?”
“No time tonight. This is twenty-year-old reserve Cabernet. I figured it would do the trick.”
Now I really felt guilty. “Twenty years? Danny, you shouldn’t waste it. I’ll be pacing the floor and ranting.”
“Believe me, it won’t be wasted. You need some sleep before you do anything. Especially pay a visit to Molinoff.” He handed me a full glass. Then raised his in salute. “Do you want to pace here or in the living room? I’m going to get comfortable. Rant when ready.”
Danny headed back to the living room, slipped off his leather jacket, and settled at the end of the sofa. I inhaled the rich aroma and took a sip, letting the velvety smooth taste of blackberries and cherries roll on my tongue. Luscious.
“Ohhh, this is too good …” I said, as I wandered after him.
“I’m waiting for the floor show. You promised pacing and ranting. You better get to it before the Cabernet goes to work.”
Deadly Politics (A Molly Malone Mystery) Page 19
