Five minutes later, Todd was jamming his things back into his canvas satchel.
“We don’t know for sure that the call had anything to do with Joey’s murder.” Amy was pleading.
Todd checked his gun, then tucked it into the back of his waistband.
“Speak to me, Todd.” Tears were streaking her cheeks.
“I’ll call you tomorrow to make sure you’re all right.”
“What about you?”
He pulled on his leather jacket.
“I’ll be fine.”
“No, you won’t. You don’t even know who to look for, and everyone else has disowned you.”
“It’s time you did the same.”
Todd pulled the brim of the Stetson low over his brow.
God, he was so handsome, she thought, and so vulnerable out there.
“If whoever called already knows you’re here, won’t this be the place he’ll come?”
“I think it’s someone who knows me personally, Amy. If I’m right, he knows I won’t stay here.”
“But Stu—”
“Forget that damn lawyer. The police have never showed up at the firm, have they?” She shook her head. “I think this is more personal than a shyster lawyer. The way Joey died was not quick. It was meant to torment and destroy Joey’s survivor. That’s me. Joey had no one else.”
“Then you suspect someone.”
“No. Working at that law firm and Joey’s death may have no connection.”
“But you don’t know that for sure.”
“I know that the longer I stay here, the more danger I put you in.”
Todd lifted his satchel and headed for the apartment door. Amy tried to kiss him, but his lips were cold as marble. All passion had withered.
“Forget what happened between us, Amy.”
She shook her head and tried to reach out to stop him, but he pushed her away and left.
Amy cried until the tears burned her eyes, then magically she fell asleep on the bed.
The next day she woke more determined to help him. Pickens had to know something about the case, and he was going to be her prime target until evening, when she would switch gears and try to pump Stu for information. Unfortunately, she had not recognized the voice over the phone. It was gritty and muffled. The person had probably covered the handset with cloth.
She managed to get into work before Pickens, who was surprised to see her already seated inside the conference room.
“Well, I’m glad you’re showing some responsibility, for a change. I usually have to grope around for a while before you come in.”
“Todd Coleman didn’t need as much assistance as you do. Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“The man that replaced you for a day.”
“I told you I was sick.” She could see that he was uneasy. He dropped several pencils and almost let his glasses slide off his nose while picking them up.
If she couldn’t get anywhere with him, maybe Todd could. Amy resolved to obtain his address before the day was over.
By noon, Amy had managed to cause so much confusion with the ledgers and loose papers that Pickens was in a quandary about what to do next.
“Here, let me help you,” she said, pushing the completed forms onto the floor.
“Stop helping me. Go find someone else to bother.”
“We’re not supposed to take any material out of the office but... Would it help if I brought a few things over to your home this evening?”
“You at my house?”
“Why not?”
Pickens sputtered.
“You can’t live too far away.”
“Far enough.”
“Far enough for what?”
“Far enough that you couldn’t come. I mean, it would...”
“I’m sure your wife wouldn’t mind.”
“My, er..., roommate doesn’t like company.”
“But I won’t be company...”
“Why would you want to come to my house?” Pickens’ eyes peered over the wire rim of his glasses.
“Because I feel I’ve slowed you down today and perhaps you’d like to catch up in the evening.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do after work?”
“Like you, my life is my work.”
Pickens snorted.
“Even I have a life beyond the job, Ms Simpson, and I do care about my work.”
The emphasis on the “do” annoyed Amy but she persisted.
“I bet you even work on the train into the city.”
“As a matter of fact, I drive.”
“Can’t reach the BART?”
“I choose not to use it.”
Amy had already checked the telephone books and found no Albert Pickens listed. She thought about attempting to pick his pocket for his wallet, when Teddy popped his head into the room.
“Could you give me a lift to Berkeley this evening?”
Without moving his head, Pickens threw Amy a side glance, and she offered a smile in return.
“Yes,” Pickens grumbled.
“Thanks. I guess I’ll leave you to your work now.”
“Ms. Simpson,” Pickens raised his head and pulled himself closer to her. “I live in Berkeley with a jealous woman. Find someone else to pester.”
Amy’s cheeks flushed. My God, did he think she had the hots for him? Pickens cocked a brow, and his lips spread to show his yellow teeth. Forget Alice’s rabbit, she thought, he looks more like Mephistopheles. Amy moved to the door and quickly exited in hopes of tracking down Teddy.
As it turned out, Teddy did know where Pickens lived; not the exact address, but the block on which he lived. Although it took quite a convoluted conversation to get the information out of the paralegal. He finally blurted out a street where he and the accountant had run into each other one weekend, or rather where Pickens almost had run over him on the way out of his driveway.
Elated, Amy went back to her office to note the area in her calendar book. However, she had a letdown when she searched for Stu. He had already left for the day and had taken a stack of papers with him, swearing that someone had broken into his office.
“He claims he locked the door before he left a couple of nights ago, and when he came in yesterday morning the door was shut but unlocked,” said his secretary, Sara.
“Why didn’t he mention it yesterday?”
“He did, but only to the senior partners.”
Amy sighed. She supposed he now had tucked away any evidence in a concealed place at home. But she already knew where he lived from the last Christmas party, when Trudy had gone home with him.
Chapter 11
A Visit To Pickens
Amy paced the floor of her apartment waiting for the telephone to ring. She nibbled on a stale bagel slathered with chive cream cheese. She hadn’t bothered to stop at the grocery for food, because she didn’t want to miss Todd’s call. Wouldn’t he be surprised at the information she had come up with? The two of them could go to Berkeley this evening and question Pickles. Amy was sure that Todd’s size and demeanor could make Pickles more amenable to sharing what he knew.
But Todd didn’t call until she had finished two bagels and all but emptied the cream cheese container.
“Thank goodness, I was afraid we’d have to go to Berkeley in the middle of the night, and you know I can’t afford all this lost sleep.”
“What are you talking about? Has someone called you again?’
“No. But I have Pickles’ address. At least sort of.”
“So what?”
“You and I can go over there and question him. It can’t be too hard to find his house. Teddy said...”
“Who’s Teddy?”
“He’s the paralegal at work. I couldn’t get Pickles to divulge his own address, but when I heard Teddy ask for a lift, I assumed he must have an idea where Pickles lives, so I asked him, in a roundabout way.”
“What the hell are you doing,
Amy? Announcing to the world that you’re involved with me?”
She was surprised how much she liked the ring of what he had said, even if he didn’t mean it the way she wanted.
“It makes sense, Todd. You took Pickles’ place. He knew enough not to show up. Therefore, he must have been told by someone at work to stay home. If we can find out who it was...”
“Then what?”
“Maybe we can force them to corroborate your story.”
“Amy, I don’t want you running around making it obvious that you’re gathering information for me.”
“No, no. Pickles doesn’t suspect a thing. He thinks I...” The absurdity of what he thought couldn’t break through her lips. “Anyway, he doesn’t surmise that there’s any link between the two of us.”
“How can you be sure? And what about Teddy?”
“He keeps his own personal business to himself and doesn’t ask questions of other people.”
“Just the type to put two and two together.”
“Where should I meet you?”
“What are you talking about? Where does Pickles live?”
She gave him the names of the cross streets.
“Maybe I will drop in on him, but you’ll stay put.”
“But you need my help.”
“Amy, you say he doesn’t know you’re involved with me, right?”
There were the words that made her tingle.
“Yes.”
“If you show up with me, what will he think then?”
“That I’m... Okay, so I’ll hide in a bush or something.”
“I have enough problems keeping a low profile alone, Amy; I don’t need you trailing along.”
“You mean I could endanger you?”
“Yes.”
“Call me after you’ve spoken to him?”
Todd didn’t believe she was in any danger on her own. Only contact with him could bring trouble.
“It’s not a good idea for me to keep calling.”
“But I gave you the lead. It’s only fair that I know the outcome.”
“Get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“No, no. Tonight.”
“It might be late.”
“I don’t care.”
Todd grudgingly agreed and hung up the receiver, wondering why he even called at all. She was better off the less she knew, except that she insisted on prying deeper and deeper into the mystery.
When Todd reached the block on which Pickens lived it was not difficult to find his house. He recognized the man immediately from Amy’s description. Pickens was watering the front lawn, but Todd waited until the accountant went back inside the house before he approached.
He set off a set of chimes when he pushed the lighted button next to the front door. Seconds later a tall, voluptuous blonde answered. Her leopard-print skin-tight pants matched the low-cut halter top which barely covered the meaty breasts. The woman’s long, teased hair fell across one eye. She made no attempt to push it back. Instead she licked her lips and spoke.
“Hi.”
At first, it was hard to find the appropriate words. Then he remembered why he was there.
“Albert Pickens in?”
She nodded her head and continued to stand on her spike heels.
“Could I see him?”
“Are you sure it’s him you want to see?” she said, checking out the folds in his jeans.
He wasn’t at all sure, until he heard a man’s voice ask who was at the door. At that point the blonde moved aside and invited Todd in.
“Yes? Can I help you?” Pickens asked.
“Could we speak alone?”
“I don’t know who you are.”
Todd indicated that he was associated with the law firm for which Amy worked.
“Did that Ms Simpson send you here? Edwina, go watch the souffle while I get rid of this man.”
Todd watched Edwina swivel her hips down the hall until she turned into an open doorway and disappeared.
“Listen, you go tell Ms. Simpson that I’m not about to take work home, especially when she’s the cause of the slowdown. Also tell her that I have no interest in having a relationship with her.”
Pickens’ last few words brought Todd’s attention back to his current situation.
“What?”
“You give her that message.”
Immediately Todd moved forward, grabbed Pickens’ shirt collar, and jammed his knuckles into the accountant’s Adam’s apple, preventing him from talking. Then he kicked the front door closed and issued a warning to Pickens.
“Don’t cry out to your friend, or else there might be a big commotion and the souffle won’t be the only thing ruined.”
Todd edged Pickens into a darkened room off the hallway. He snapped on the light with his free hand.
“I need the answers to a few questions. Number one, what were you told to do while I was doing the taxes at the law firm? And second, who gave you the orders?”
Pickens’ eyes widened as he realized who the person standing in front of him was. Todd eased his grip so that the man could answer.
“He told me to stay home and stay quiet. And I don’t know who he is.”
Todd tightened his hold.
“Honest.” Pickens’ pudgy hands reached for Todd’s wrist.
“You don’t know the names of the people at the accounting company you work for?”
“What does the company have to do with this?”
“Wasn’t it someone at the company who told you to stay home?”
“No. It was a hulking brute who was waiting for me in the garage one evening when I got home. I’d never seen him before. He threatened me and... Edwina. I couldn’t repeat the things he said he’d do to her if I didn’t cooperate. He told me to stay home for just one day, and then I could continue my job and forget about him.”
A chill passed through Todd’s body. Joey may have been hoodwinked.
“What did the guy look like?”
“I don’t know. It was dark in the garage and he looked like a mountain.”
Todd looked at the squat man before him. Looking like Pike’s Peak to this man wouldn’t be difficult.
“There’s nothing you could identify him by?”
Pickens thought.
“Bad breath and ragged fingernails. I could feel them dig into my flesh.”
“You go back and see to your souffle, Pickens. I doubt I have to tell you not to mention my visit.”
“Don’t worry. I’m getting used to this amnesia.”
Todd freed Pickens and went for the front door.
“Come back again,” Edwina called from the end of the hallway. Todd saw Pickens look skyward.
“Sounds inviting,” Todd answered. “But no, I don’t think I’ll be back.”
In San Francisco, Todd headed for a cheap hotel that rented rooms for twenty minutes at a time, if you wanted it. He didn’t relish sleeping in an alley another night. First he stopped at the Greyhound Bus station, where he retrieved his satchel from a locker, emptied the pockets of his bombardier jacket, and placed the contents in the satchel. He needed a cloth coat, one less noticeable than the pricey leather one he stashed in the locker along with the Stetson. Todd managed to buy one from a street lady with a cart filled with collectibles. It was hard getting her to part with it until he upped the price to twenty-five bucks. The jacket had a spreading seam at the shoulder and a ripped lining, but it offered some warmth against the chill of San Francisco evenings.
On the way to the hotel, he passed several public telephones and lingered longer at each successive one, contemplating whether or not he should ring Amy. He doubted that Pickens would say anything to her about his visit; he may not even link the two of them together. And she wouldn’t dare ask Pickens... Or would she? he wondered. He decided to dial her number to prevent her asking questions, he assured himself, not because he couldn’t stand going through the rest of the night without hearing her voice.
“Hello
.” She sounded anxious.
“Everything okay?”
“Now that you called, yes. What did Pickens tell you?”
“A mountain told him to do it.”
“What?”
“Some man was waiting for him in the garage one night and told him what to do, but he didn’t know the man, nor was he able to see his face.”
“Is that how it’s usually done?”
No, Todd silently said, but he didn’t want to alarm her.
“Maybe he’s been told to keep quiet.” In a way Todd was telling the truth.
“Didn’t you shake it out of him?”
“Shake what out of him?”
“Names, addresses...”
“No, there was someone else there.”
“His roommate. Maybe the roommate knows something.”
“Doubtful. Talking about his roommate, accountants must make good money.”
“I would think having a roommate would imply the opposite.”
“Not when you’re talking about this roommate.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Never mind. You haven’t had any additional telephone calls or any untoward visits from mountainous brutes, have you?”
“No, I’ve been bored here since you left. I’m eating poorly, too. Perhaps you should save me from myself and come back.”
“Amy, I told you...”
“Yeah, I know. But the nights are chilly; you can’t spend them on the street.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got a place to stay.”
“Oh, a better offer.”
“There couldn’t be a better offer than yours, Amy.” He almost told her how much he missed her, stopping himself when he remembered that he didn’t want to encourage her. There was no use in doing so.
“Good-night, Amy.”
Chapter 12
Alone With Michael
Amy spent a restless night worrying about where Todd was staying and whether it was a safe place. She thought of his sister. He had said that he and his brother-in-law did not get along, but had not revealed the reason why. Perhaps Todd’s current situation might bring about forgiveness on Michael’s part. He was an ox, but Todd was family. The next day was Saturday, and Amy resolved to go back to Jennifer’s to find out whether Todd was staying with his sister.
In the morning Amy dressed in old jeans and a bulky sweater. She laced up her scuffed white running shoes before calling a taxi. She wanted to tell them to send anyone but Sam, but didn’t think it necessary.
The Taxman Killeth Page 8
