Peril in the Park: A Jamie Quinn Mystery

by Barbara Venkataraman

  "You know everyone who is anyone, don't you?" I joked.

  Grace looked puzzled. "I thought he was someone you knew. He was staring at you and when I looked over, he waved. So I waved back."

  I looked over my shoulder, but didn't see anyone.

  "He's gone now," she said.

  "What did he look like?" I asked.

  "I didn't get a good look at him, to be honest. He was average-looking, business clothes. One thing I remember, he was wearing wire-rim glasses."

  Chapter 29

  I couldn't believe it, how dare he try to intimidate me! Benjamin Wolf had sent his son Daniel to spy on me, follow me, harass me. I believe there's a special place in hell for bullies like him. I was livid, but somehow managed to keep it together until Grace left. It was an Oscar-worthy performance.

  I took a stroll up Hollywood Boulevard on the look-out for Mr. Wire-Rim Glasses. I didn't know what I'd say if I found him, but I pictured myself walking up to him, yanking his glasses off his face and grinding them under my heel. Problem was I had no idea what Daniel Wolf looked like. With my luck, I'd attack some innocent bystander whose only mistake was choosing the wrong eyewear. Suddenly, I understood what was really going on. Benjamin Wolf wasn't trying to intimidate me; he was using me to get to Kip! Wolf wanted to show Kip that he could threaten his girlfriend any time he wanted. My first instinct was to call Kip and warn him, but then I thought--what would be the point? Kip's mind was made up and I would only be adding to his stress. I was so tired of having these debates with myself. It was giving me a headache.

  I went back to work to finish up the day. Although my lunch break had been ruined, I'd learned something about Benjamin Wolf--he was desperate. Not that it mattered. If Kip was willing to sacrifice his job and career to do the right thing, then there was nothing Wolf could do to stop him. But, with Sapphire Sky on the line, I knew he wasn't going to give up.

  I was sitting at my desk staring out the window when I got a text from Duke.

  I think I know who the park vandal is--that little weasel is going down!

  I laughed out loud, leave it to Duke! If he wasn't a full-fledged superhero, he was at least a sidekick.

  Duke, you're amazing!! Who is it?

  "Not yet, Ms Esq. I have to check it out first.

  Mr. P.I., you've earned yourself not one, but two midnight calls from jail.

  I reckon Bubba will be sorely disappointed.

  I'm sure he'll manage somehow.

  After Duke said he had to go, I decided to call Kip with the news. While it hardly mattered who the park vandal was in the scheme of things, I still thought he'd like to know that Duke was close to finding him. I dialed his cell and a woman answered.

  "Kip Simons' phone."

  "Um, hello? May I speak with Kip please?"

  "I'm sorry, he is unavailable. May I take a message?"

  Unavailable? What was that about? "Who is this?" I asked.

  "Jayashree Patel."

  "I don't mean to be rude, Jayashree," I said, "but why are you answering Kip's phone?"

  "He asked me to," she replied. "Who is calling?"

  Something snapped in my brain. "Look, you have Kip's phone in your hand, so you know who I am, my picture and name pop up when I call. Why are we playing this game?"

  I have to hand it to her, she never lost her cool.

  "I'm afraid you're mistaken," she said. "While what I presume is your photo shows up, your name does not. If I knew your name, I wouldn't be asking for it."

  I felt like I was talking to a robot. "If my name doesn't show up, then whose does?"

  "It's not a name," she said, pausing for an instant, "it's the word 'Babe' followed by two heart emoticons. Would you like me to call you Babe?"

  Chapter 30

  Did I feel like an idiot? You bet. Did I wish I could stop picking fights with people? No doubt about it. You'd think that after my bathroom brawl with Candy Broussard, I'd have learned to shut my mouth, but it turned out to be a steep learning curve. In this case, not only was Jayashree Patel a total stranger, she was the one person who could tell me what Kip was up to--and I had to go and blow it.

  "Listen, Jayashree," I said, "I'm sorry I was so rude just now. I had a rough day and I took it out on you. Please forgive me."

  She laughed with amusement. "No worries, apology accepted, Miss…?

  Oh, yeah, maybe I should tell her my name already. "Jamie, I'm Jamie Quinn. Can you please tell me where I can find Kip?"

  "I'm afraid he's unavailable right now, Jamie."

  "But where is he?" I pressed her.

  "He's out in the field on assignment. I mean, he's working on a big project, but I'll be sure to tell him you called."

  That was an odd choice of words, I thought, 'on assignment'. Maybe that's just how they talk in DC. "Do you know when he'll be back?"

  Jayashree sounded impatient. "He may not be able to return your call until tomorrow," she said.

  "Tomorrow?" I echoed in surprise. "One last question--is Kip okay?"

  "No need to worry, he's fine." She hesitated and then added, "It's all going to be fine."

  After we'd hung up, I wondered what was going to be fine and how she could possibly know.

  ***

  I'd just finished washing my dinner dishes when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Sandy, my next-door neighbor, standing on the front porch. We were always 'borrowing' ingredients from each other when we couldn't be bothered to run to the store. Her requests were the normal stuff, like an egg or a stick of butter, while mine belonged in a culinary scavenger hunt and ranged from dill weed to horseradish. I invited her in.

  "Hey neighbor," I said. "How's it going?"

  "Fine, Jamie, how about you?"

  "Oh, busy, crazy, you know. What can I get you? My pantry is your pantry, but if you're making my favorite cookies, I'll expect one when you're done." I laughed.

  She looked troubled. "No cookies today. Actually, I'm here because I'm taking up a collection for Jose Torres, to help with the funeral expenses."

  "Who's Jose Torres? Was he a neighbor?"

  "Sorry, I thought you'd heard about it. Yesterday, the Hendersons hired a young guy named Jose Torres to trim their trees. The poor man hit an electrical wire and was killed. Such a tragedy! His family doesn't have much money, so we're trying to help them out."

  "That's horrible!" I said. "How did I miss hearing about that?"

  Sandy shook her head. "You weren't home. We had police and a fire truck and an ambulance here. The paramedics tried to revive him, but he was dead before he hit the ground. The electricity stopped his heart and he was gone."

  "That's really bad news," I said. "Let me get my purse, I'm glad to help out.”

  When Sandy had gone, I thought about a young man struck down in the prime of his life whose heart had suddenly stopped, and I realized something I'd known all along. I knew what had killed Malcolm Armstrong.

  Chapter 31

  The elephant had been a distraction, a commotion improvised by the killer to cover his crime. He was counting on the noise from the crowd, the panic caused by a raging elephant, to drown out Malcolm's screams of agony. He knew it wouldn't be a quiet death. First, he'd texted Malcolm to meet him by the trees, maybe by promising to pay him, and then he attacked Taj. After that, he waited at the designated place, his weapon fully charged. As soon as Malcolm walked through the trees, the killer had tasered him again and again, until his heart finally gave out. Like Jose Torres, Malcolm never had a chance.

  But who was this killer? A man in a jester costume with pale hands, that was all I knew. I wished I could talk to Kip, but it seemed he wasn't available. That guy had some explaining to do when I finally got a hold of him. In the meantime, there was someone else who would love to know what happened to Malcolm.

  "I know what killed him," I said, as soon as Duke answered the phone.

  "And I know who paid him," he answered, not to be outdone.

  "You do? That's great!
Who was it?"

  "You go first," Duke answered.

  "I would argue with you, but I know how stubborn you are," I said, "So, I'll just tell you. He was tasered to death. The elephant was tasered first in order to rile up the crowd."

  Duke whistled. "Makes perfect sense. Girl, you are one smart lawyer!"

  "Then why aren't I rich?" I laughed. "Now, it's your turn."

  "I won't bore you with how much time I spent following the trail of money through half a dozen accounts. Or how brilliant I was in figuring out who approved the charges…"

  "I already know you're brilliant, tell me who did it already."

  "It was the commissioner himself." Duke said, triumphantly.

  "No way!"

  "I don't make mistakes, Darlin'."

  I grabbed my tablet off the kitchen table and quickly pulled up the website for the county commissioners.

  "He may have paid the money to hire Malcolm, but he didn't do the tasering," I said.

  "How do you know that?"

  "Because I'm looking at a picture of him. The killer had pale hands--Dilly Williams is black."

  "Well, I'll be damned…who else could've done it?"

  I entertained the idea that it might've been Benjamin Wolf, but quickly decided against it. By all accounts, he wasn't the type to get his hands dirty.

  "Quincy Graves?" I suggested.

  "Why do you think it's him?"

  "He's pasty white, for one thing. He hates Kip for another. He'd do anything to make Kip look bad."

  "Even murder somebody?" Duke wasn't buying it.

  "Yeah, I don't know. You have any better ideas?"

  "Not at the moment, but I'll let you know when I do. And I'm gonna nail that little park vandal while I'm at it!"

  I laughed. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

  "You bet I am! I haven't had this much fun in ages." Then, in a more serious tone, he added, "I owe it to Malcolm, Jamie. Us P.I.s have to look out for each other."

  "I understand. And I appreciate everything you're doing, Duke."

  "Don't thank me yet," he said, "I'm just gettin' started."

  Chapter 32

  Before we hung up, Duke remembered to ask about my dad. I told him there was no news yet, maybe soon.

  I didn't sleep much that night (hardly unusual), but the little sleep I did get was riddled with nightmares. It turns out that analyzing a possible murder right before bedtime is not conducive to restful sleep. I'd have to remember that for next time. Also, having a missing boyfriend didn't help matters--although he wasn't really missing, just AWOL.

  It was Wednesday, D-Day (Decision Day) for Kip. I was tempted to text or call him, but I was afraid Jayashree still had his phone. What was up with that? I was looking at my phone, wondering how anyone could stand to be so disconnected when it rang. Kip!

  "Morning, Sunshine," he said. "Hope you weren't worried about me. I'm in the middle of a project, so I can't talk too long. Everything okay?"

  "The number you have reached has been disconnected." I said in a toneless voice.

  "Don't be mad, I couldn't help it, I swear! I heard you had a nice chat with Jayashree." He laughed.

  "If you're going to fall off the radar, then you're not allowed to make fun of me when you come back. It's one or the other, buddy."

  "Okay, sorry. Want to know what I've decided?"

  "I'm dying to know!"

  "I've decided to do…nothing,"

  "Huh?" I was confused.

  "They want an answer, but I'm not going to give them one. They can draw their own conclusions," he said.

  "Good for you! But what did you decide?"

  "Do you really have to ask?" Then he started singing the first line of 'If You Don't Know Me By Now', by Simply Red. He was in good spirits.

  "Why are you so happy?" I asked. "Aren't you about to lose your job and career?"

  "Let's just say things are looking up. I can't tell you about it until it's over, but I promise I will then."

  "I don't like all these secrets." I said, sulking. "I thought we had a relationship based on honesty and trust, one where you agreed to answer all of my questions--even when we're in the middle of a movie theater. What happened to that Kip?"

  Kip covered the phone so he could talk to someone. When he came back, he said, "That Kip is still here. Listen, Jamie, I have to go, but don't worry, babe. Everything's going to be fine."

  As I put the phone down, I thought: That's the same thing Jayashree said. Something strange was going on and I wished I knew what. I hadn't had the chance to tell Kip about Malcolm, how I was convinced that I-C-U had murdered him. If I'd thought I-C-U was dangerous before, now I was sure of it. I called Kip back and got his voicemail, so I left a message.

  Hey again, I forgot to tell you something--Duke traced the money back to Dilly Williams. He's the one who paid Malcolm to spy on us! Duke and I think Malcolm was murdered, but not by Dilly. Whoever the killer is, he's still out there. Please, please be careful. Love you.

  I thought about calling the police, but what would I tell them? Malcolm's autopsy had been inconclusive so, as far as the police were concerned, he'd died of natural causes. As for Dilly Williams hiring a P.I. to spy on the Parks Director, at best that was misappropriation of government funds, a white collar crime. Even if I showed them I-C-U's threatening e-mail, it wouldn't make a difference. To them, it would look like just another rant from a crazy person. What we needed was proof. If Duke could trace the e-mail I-C-U had sent me, or the text messages someone had sent to Malcolm, then we might have something. We might have enough to take I-C-U down.

  Chapter 33

  I had a mediation scheduled for that morning. Mediation is an informal meeting of the parties, their attorneys, and a court-appointed mediator for the purpose of having a settlement conference. All parties in family cases are required to mediate before trial; in other words, they have to at least try to work it out before going to court. In this case, I was the mediator, other times, I'm there as the attorney. For family attorneys, it's a game of musical chairs, moving from the attorney chair to the mediator chair and then back again.

  Since I was the mediator that day, I didn't have a horse in the race. In my opening speech, I always explain the rules and do my best to assure the parties that I'm neutral, like Switzerland. If they don't crack a smile at that, I know it's going to be a rough session.

  It's funny how I can fight like a dog for my own clients, but when I mediate, I am completely impartial. Somehow I'm able to rise above the squabbling and see both sides, see how their erratic behavior is motivated by anger, guilt, or a sense of betrayal. I understand that when they refuse to split up the DVD collection or walk away from the crystal chandelier; they are simply lashing out. And, just when I think there's no way these parties will ever agree on anything, they do. It's a small miracle each time it happens. If I can't do adoptions every day, then I’ll settle for doing mediations.

  I was tired after four hours of mediating. Although I've never done manual labor, I can tell you that using your brain for four hours straight can also be exhausting. After I'd ushered everyone out of my office and wished them luck and a happy life, I sat down to eat a quick bite and return some calls. I saw that I had two missed calls from Grace, which pushed her to the top of the list.

  "Hey Gracie, what's up?"

  "Hey J, I have some news about your dad…"

  I could tell by her voice that it wasn't what I wanted to hear.

  "I guess I'm ready," I said. "Just tell me--was it because of his deportation?"

  "No, it wasn't," she answered.

  That seemed like good news to me.

  "I knew it!" I said. "I knew INS wouldn't believe they had a legitimate marriage. It's so unfair! Just because they haven't lived together--"

  "Jamie, stop," Grace interrupted. "That's not it either."

  "Then, what's the problem?" It felt like my brain was slogging through molasses. I didn't think there were any other possibilities.
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  "Your dad and Ana Maria don't have a legitimate marriage."

  "But, that's what I said…"

  "It's not what you think," she said, patiently.

  "Then why isn't their marriage legitimate?"

  "Because your dad is already married."

  Chapter 34

  "What you're saying makes no sense," I said, trying to stay calm. "It has to be a mistake, a different Guillermo Franco."

  "It's not a mistake, Jamie," Grace said, sympathetically. "I checked. Look, I know it's a shock--"

  "You're wrong! There's no way he's married, it's impossible." I started crying.

  Grace tried to calm me down.

  "Sometimes people don't live up to our expectations, Jamie. It doesn't mean they're bad."

  "It does in this case," I said bitterly. "He lied to me and he lied to poor Ana Maria. He wanted that Green Card and he didn't care who got hurt in the process."

  "I think you're being too hard on him," Grace said.

  "Who is he married to?" I demanded.

  "I couldn't get her name, but I'm working on it. I'm sorry, Jamie, I know this is tough. Do you want me to come over tonight and keep you company?"

  "No, I'll be okay. Sorry to be such a high-maintenance friend."

  Grace gave a little laugh. "We're all high-maintenance some time. Just don't make a habit of it, alright? I'm too busy to start looking for a new BFF."

  "Alright," I said, sniffling. "Thanks for everything, Gracie. You're the best."

  "You, too. Now, go home and relax. I'll call you tomorrow."

  We said good-bye and I walked into the small kitchen next door to grab a coke from the fridge. I returned to my office where I sat down in a client chair, pressed the icy can against my throbbing head and closed my eyes.

  I didn't know what to do, I couldn't deal with this. It wasn't my place to tell Ana Maria, but didn't she deserve to know? And if I didn't tell her, who would? The thought of confronting my father was too much to even think about. Everything was falling apart. I wished I lived in an alternate universe where daughters could find their lost fathers and they didn't turn out to be con men. I have no idea how long I sat there in a funk, numb and disappointed, but when I heard people closing up the office to go home, I started gathering my things. I was reaching down to get my purse from the bottom drawer when I sensed someone standing in front of my desk. I was feeling so low at that point I couldn't have cared less who it was; had it been I-C-U in the flesh, I wouldn't have reacted.