A Deadly Business (A Mia Quinn Mystery)

by Lis Wiehl

  And finally Lydia had given him a simple answer. She had told him she wanted a divorce.

  CHAPTER 35

  Upstairs, Mia tried to let the shower wash her clean, unkink the muscles in her shoulders, make her relax. She moved carefully, as if she had been broken and put back together with glue that hadn’t yet set.

  She thought about what she and Charlie had learned today, not just about the boys who had dropped the shopping cart, but also about Scott. His falsehoods hadn’t begun or ended with Mia, not when he had clearly planned to pass off a fake ring as the real thing. And now Betty, the girl Scott had planned to leave her for, was missing. What did that mean?

  The more she learned about Scott, the more she felt a fool. She and the kids were better off without him. He had been going to leave them one way or another. At least this way the break had been clean. Did she really want to be sending the kids to visit their dad and their new college-aged stepmother?

  Mia went to bed but found it impossible to sleep. For the first two months after Scott died, she had slept with an old suitcase on his side. The weight had made her feel less alone, had sometimes allowed her to pretend that she wasn’t. Now she moved over to the center and spread out her arms and legs.

  She thought she heard a car pull up outside, but she paid it no mind. No mind until she heard the front door open and close.

  Was Gabe sneaking out with friends? Anger ran hot through her veins. She threw back the covers and ran down the stairs, trying to catch him before the car pulled away—and rounded the corner just as Gabe came back in the front door. He jumped at the sight of her.

  “You scared me, Mom. I didn’t know you were up.”

  “What were you doing?”

  He paused, and in that pause she felt him constructing a lie. It was a mother’s sixth sense.

  “I accidentally picked up Eldon’s math book at school and he came by to get it.”

  Gabe and Eldon were both on the JV football team. But Eldon was a year older, so they weren’t even in the same grade. “At almost midnight?”

  He didn’t meet Mia’s eyes. “He stays up late.”

  She looked at Gabe and she couldn’t help but see all the boys she and Charlie had talked about this week. Manny, who had tried to do the right thing but failed. Dylan, who came from a home with no hope, no help, no room, not even warmth or light. Jackson, raised by a child, his only role model a man who sold weed. And Luke, lost in a huge house, with a disconnected father and a mother in a coma.

  “Gabe, I need you to tell me the truth,” Mia said, and braced herself. Was he buying pot—or something even worse? If she searched his pockets now, what would she find?

  “Promise you won’t be mad?”

  Her heart fell. At that moment, she realized he was looking at her. Not up. They were eye to eye.

  “I promise,” she said. What else could she say?

  “I’ve been giving Eldon a few things.”

  “Things?” Of all the answers she had been expecting, this wasn’t one of them. “What kind of things?”

  “Like mac and cheese. Blankets. And toilet paper.”

  “We’re talking about the same Eldon, right? From the football team?” Had Eldon been kicked out of his house? He was a big kid, 220 pounds easy. He had sleepy eyes and creamy brown skin. He was Samoan? Hawaiian?

  “His mom has cancer. She lost her job and they can’t afford their apartment anymore. So they’ve been living in Danny’s garage.”

  “What?” Mia’s tired brain was still trying to recalibrate.

  “You know, Danny. We went to middle school together. The skater dude with the long hair?”

  “And Eldon and his mother are living in Danny’s garage?” She tried to imagine what that would be like. “Where do they sleep? Do they have heat?”

  “No, there isn’t any heat, but it was either that or the shelter, I guess, and then they would probably be separated, since Eldon’s sixteen. And his mom’s car isn’t big enough that they could sleep in it. She sleeps on a cot and Eldon’s been sleeping on an old beanbag chair. I brought over my sleeping bag and some of our blankets. And I’ve been bringing them some of our food. They get food stamps, but I guess they don’t go very far.”

  Well, that explained the gaps in their cupboards.

  “I should have told you.” Gabe heaved a sigh. “But I was afraid you would be mad.”

  Something inside her melted. “I’m not mad, Gabe. Of course I’m not mad.” She wrapped her arms around his wiry shoulders and tried to pull him close.

  He went rigid then squirmed away.

  “Even if you’re nearly a grown man, you’re still my son. And sometimes I just need to hug you.”

  “Mom. Please. You’ve got a four-year-old. You don’t need to treat me like one.”

  Normally his words would have stung. But tonight all Mia could think was how proud she was of him.

  CHAPTER 36

  To do a job right, you didn’t learn just about the guy you were being paid to kill. No, you learned about other people in his circle. People he might have let something slip to. Or engaged in a little pillow talk with.

  Like the wife.

  Or the mistress.

  Vin had spread enough money around that when someone started asking about Scott Quinn’s death, he heard about it.

  So what did Mia Quinn know? Had she found something that Vin had missed? He had tossed her dead husband’s office only an hour after he died, come away with anything that might be incriminating.

  All the secrets Scott had uncovered should have died with him.

  So why was Mia Quinn now sticking her nose where it didn’t belong?

  CHAPTER 37

  THURSDAY

  Mia’s cell phone rang just as she was gobbling a piece of toast and shepherding Brooke out of the house. Trying to persuade her daughter that they had to leave now, not in five minutes, not in five hours.

  Gabe had taken the bus today. They hadn’t talked any more about Eldon and his mom, but their situation had contributed to Mia’s nearly sleepless night. Some part of her, though, had welcomed worrying about them, because it took her mind off of Scott’s betrayal.

  She jammed the last bite of toast into her mouth as she said hello.

  It was Frank, his voice so tight with anger that at first Mia didn’t recognize it. “Are you listening to the radio?”

  “No.” She felt oddly guilty. Lately her life seemed to be a series of things she should have been doing.

  “Turn on KNWS. Raines is holding a press conference about the shopping cart case.”

  “What?”

  “Just turn it on. And call me back when it’s over.”

  Before lifting Brooke into her booster seat, Mia stuck the keys in the car’s ignition and switched on the radio. She ignored the car’s beep-beep-beep warning signaling an open door, mentally crossing her fingers that none of the neighbors was trying to sleep in.

  In his instantly recognizable gravelly voice, Dominic Raines was saying, “. . . don’t feel safe walking downtown anymore. There’s a sense of lawlessness in Seattle. As we have all seen, these kids feel like they can get away with anything and get nothing but a slap on the wrist. If the criminals think they won’t really be punished, then what won’t they do? These two teens are animals, not like the young man who risked his own life to save this poor woman.”

  Mia frowned a little bit at the hyperbole. Manny had tried to stop it, sure, but he hadn’t risked his life.

  As Mia buckled Brooke in, Raines continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But the King County prosecutor’s office still hasn’t decided whether to charge these violent offenders as adults. So once again we’re left wondering if Frank D’Amato and his cronies will allow criminals to walk away scot-free. This is just one more example of why the King County prosecutor’s office needs to be overhauled, so that more people like Tamsin Merritt aren’t victimized. My opponent is overseeing a department that literally lets people get away with murder
. When I’m elected, you can be sure that I will hire prosecutors who will work diligently to ensure justice is done.”

  As opposed to prosecutors who slack off and who don’t care about justice? Mia asked Raines in her head. When she started the car and pulled out of the driveway, it was all she could do to drive at a moderate speed.

  “As district attorney, I will restore integrity and professionalism to the office,” he continued. “I want to bring in experienced prosecutors who have a passion for justice. Not litigators who make excuse after excuse for criminals who are violent predators. Some of these folks need to think about getting their resumes ready.”

  Great. Not only did she have to worry about what was justice for the victim and what was right for these boys and what was best for society and what Frank wanted, now Mia had to worry that if Frank lost she might be forced out of her job.

  A female voice said, “I’m Catherine Belsen, reporting live from a press conference called by Dominic Raines, who is challenging Frank D’Amato for the position of King County prosecutor. Raines was reacting to video footage of the suspects in that horrific incident where a shopping cart was dropped four stories onto a woman’s head, as well as news that one of the suspects has a lengthy juvenile record. That record includes charges of second-degree murder that were ultimately dropped by the King County prosecutor’s office.”

  What? That charge hadn’t been in the paperwork she had gotten. Mia pulled into the parking lot for Brooke’s school, but she didn’t get out.

  Belsen continued, “Raines contends that if these juveniles had been prosecuted correctly, Tamsin would not be in the hospital today.”

  “And what is Tamsin’s condition?” the male announcer asked. Mia noted that it was just Tamsin for everyone now.

  “We understand that she is still in a coma,” Belsen said. “Doctors say it’s too soon to predict whether she will ever awaken. We also reached out to current prosecutor Frank D’Amato for a comment, but we were told he was unavailable.”

  “In other news—” the announcer said, and Mia snapped off the radio.

  As she got out of the car and unbuckled Brooke, she dialed Frank’s number. But it was Judy who answered. “Just a minute, Mia. He’s on another line.”

  With one hip Mia nudged open the door of the preschool and then led Brooke in by the hand. Of course she chose that moment to grab Mia’s legs and start crying. “Don’t leave me here, Mommy!”

  Frank came on the line. “So at what point did you start listening?” he demanded.

  “People don’t feel safe, the city is lawless . . .” Mia tried to peel Brooke’s fingers loose and hoped Frank could still hear her over Brooke’s cries. “Somewhere around there.”

  “Then you missed what he said earlier.”

  Mia’s stomach clenched as if it were deciding whether to reject the toast all together. One of the workers, a young woman named Sarah, swept Brooke into her arms, trying to distract her.

  “And what was that?” Mia smiled her thanks at Sarah and gave a little wave as she hurried out the door, trying not to listen to Brooke’s wails. She told herself that Brooke would be fine, that her daughter always had a hard time with transitions. Still, she wished she had had a few minutes to play with her, maybe to build a block tower or gallop a Playmobil cowboy on his plastic horse, something to make the switch from home to preschool a little easier.

  “It turns out there’s more video footage from the shopping mall. Fifteen minutes before they dropped the cart, it shows all three boys leaning over the walkway, dropping cans of Mountain Dew and watching them explode. Raines said that meant they knew exactly what would happen when they dropped a shopping cart onto a woman’s head.” He sucked in a breath. “I don’t like having to learn things from my opponent’s press conference, Mia.”

  “Neither do I.” Mia mentally kicked herself. Why hadn’t she made sure she had all of the video?

  Maybe Frank felt somewhat to blame, because he didn’t continue to excoriate her for missing it. Instead, he launched into a series of questions. “Who’s leaking?” he demanded. “How come they seem to know more than we do? What have you done so far on this case?”

  The honest answers would be I don’t know, I don’t know, and I have conducted a bunch of interviews but am finding more questions than answers. But Frank didn’t want honesty. He wanted her to fix this.

  “It doesn’t have to be a leak from our office,” she reminded him as she took the freeway on-ramp. “Raines could have gotten the footage from someone in security at the shopping mall. Now that it’s all on a computer instead of an actual tape, it’s easy for anyone with a jump drive in his pocket to make a copy. And the other information about the second-degree murder charge could have come from a friend, a family member, even a different victim. The thing that concerns me is that if it’s true, it wasn’t in any of the paperwork I saw. I need to talk to Tracy.” Tracy Lowe was head of the Juvenile Unit.

  “If they really were dropping cans of Mountain Dew, I think it’s pretty clear that they knew what they were doing. In a way, that would just make your job easier.”

  Did their action show intent? How close was a Mountain Dew can hitting the pavement to a shopping cart hitting a woman’s head?

  “We can’t rush to judgment, Frank. Were they really capable of understanding the results of what they did? You’ve got kids. You know that sometimes they make stupid, impulsive decisions.” She thought of Gabe trying to help his friend. And sometimes they made sweet, impulsive decisions.

  “Yes, they do. And sometimes they have to pay for the consequences of those decisions. A woman is near death, Mia. We can’t overlook that. We can’t say that these were just kids horsing around. Not when the results were so grave.” He took a deep breath, and she could almost see his shoulders straighten. “You know that you only have a day to make your decision, Mia. And the longer this drags out, the worse it looks.”

  And Frank needed it to be her decision. Not just to provide him with some political cover. But also, Mia thought, to provide himself with some psychic cover. That way Frank could tell himself he hadn’t let the upcoming election pressure him into it. He had let her investigate and make a fully reasoned decision.

  “I still need to talk to Manny, but his psychiatrist has not given us the all clear. Not only can Manny tell me what they were talking about beforehand and shed light on the other boys’ states of mind, but we also need him as a witness. Without him, all we’re left with is a blurry videotape.”

  “Do we really need him now?” Frank said bluntly. “Think about it, Mia. We only have to charge these kids as adults, then everyone is satisfied. No more crying about how Seattle is letting these kids run around like packs of wild dogs. And if the charges later get dropped or moved to juvenile court, well, people will have moved on by then. They won’t be so focused. They’ll have some new obsession and they will barely remember this case.”

  Mia couldn’t censor herself any longer. “You mean they will have voted by then.”

  “Well, there is that.”

  For a second she loved Frank for his unexpected honesty.

  “But that’s not the only reason you should seriously consider charging them as adults. If we want to send a message to youth, then we need an example. And these two are perfect.”

  “They’re perfect because they have zero advantages. Bad home lives, bad neighborhoods, bad schools. There is no one to speak for them except for maybe a teacher or two and whatever public defender they draw. I’m moving as fast as I can, Frank, but if we move too fast we can get ahead of the facts.”

  “I know that. And I trust you to get this right. That’s why I assigned it to you. But I still need your decision as soon as possible.”

  Mia stifled a sigh. “Sure. Can you put me through to Judy?” As she waited, she reflected on how hard it was for an elected official to balance doing a good job with campaigning. How could you effectively govern when you were dealing with a media that was so quick to
pursue the most sensational aspects of a story, with a public that all too often only skimmed the surface?

  This morning she had read that so far only sixteen percent of King County residents had turned in their vote-by-mail ballots. In the polls, Raines was behind Frank by four points. That was the good news. The bad news was that the margin of error was plus or minus four points. Basically, the two men were tied. All it would take was one mistake, one wrong word, one revelation to tip the balance. And Raines was clearly determined to make this case be that one thing.

  Finally she heard Judy’s voice. “Mia?”

  “Can you schedule a meeting for Tracy and me as soon as possible this morning?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Mia was starting to say good-bye when Judy added, “And you should know that the public defender’s office just called. The lawyers for the two boys charged in the shopping cart case have both indicated they are willing to talk to you with their clients today.”

  “What lawyers have they been assigned?”

  There was a pause as Judy found the information. “Naomi Fairchild and Eli Hall.”

  Eli. Mia blinked. She had wondered when this day would come.

  CHAPTER 38

  Eli, Mia thought as she took the elevator to her office. Representing one of the teens Frank wanted her to charge as an adult. She hadn’t seen that coming.

  Oh sure, she had figured that someday they would work opposing sides of the same case, but she had always pictured it involving an adult. She was in Violent Crimes, after all, not the Juvenile Unit. But the public defender’s office didn’t have the budget for their lawyers to specialize.

  Before she met with Tracy Lowe, the head of the Juvenile Unit, Mia tracked down the footage of the kids dropping the cans of Mountain Dew. All three kids had leaned over the railing and tried it. Manny had dropped one, and Dylan and Jackson had each dropped two. The remaining can they had passed back and forth to drink. Two of the cans had been dropped when people were passing by, although neither had hit anyone. One man had been sprayed, judging by the way he had swiped at his pants and then shaken his fist at the three laughing boys.