“Jackie Jax,” the woman said. “Mr. Stepper’s attorney.”
Teffinger stood up, leaned against the wall, looked at Stepper and said, “I’m not going to read you your rights because we’re not going to use anything you say against you. There are no hidden cameras or tape recorders. This is all off the record. Unless you want it recorded.”
“No, that’s fine.”
Teffinger nodded.
“Okay then,” he said. “I’m just going to be honest with you. The reason you’re here is because I’m getting pressure from above to make headway on this case. So I needed to do something to appease the Gods and the best thing I could think of was to call you in and make it look like I’m asking you more questions. The problem is, I don’t have any more questions.”
Both Stepper and his attorney looked dumbfounded.
“This is harassment,” Jackie said.
Teffinger agreed.
“That it is,” he said. “To be honest, that’s why I don’t want it documented.”
“We could sue,” Jackie added. She had a book of matches in her hand and twisted them around in her fingers.
Teffinger shrugged.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” he said. “And if you put me on the stand I’ll admit it. So that’s it. That’s all I have. Now at least it’ll look like I did something and I can get back to real work.”
“Meaning the man terrorizing Denver,” Jackie said.
“Exactly.”
“How’s that coming, by the way? Is it safe for me to start bar hopping again?”
Teffinger raked his hair back.
“I’d hold off for a while, at least for this weekend.”
“So are you getting close, or what?”
Teffinger put his hands up in surrender. “It’s hard to say,” he said. “You do things and sit back and hope. Sometimes they work and sometimes they don’t.”
“That doesn’t sound like anything too solid,” Jackie said.
“Like I said, don’t go bar hopping this weekend.” He looked at Katie, didn’t detect that she wanted to add anything, then looked back at Stepper and his attorney.
“That’s all I have,” he said.
THE TWO STOOD UP AND THEY ALL SHOOK HANDS. Stepper almost had his hand on the doorknob when Teffinger said, “Oh, there is one more thing.”
They stopped.
“I’ve been going back and forth in my mind as to whether you killed her or not,” he said. “For a long time it wasn’t sitting right in my gut one way or the other. But it’s funny how things work. As I got up from my desk five minutes ago to walk back here, my gut said you did it. So here’s the deal. You can tell me right now, before you walk out of this room, what happened. If you do, I’ll be sure the D.A. doesn’t charge you with the death penalty.”
He put on a serious face.
“But if you don’t,” he added, “if you walk out of here and make me hunt you down, then I’ll be sure you never get this opportunity again.”
The woman—Jackie Jax—stared at him.
“Screw you,” she said. “You don’t know anything about this man.”
Then they stormed out.
The door slammed so hard that Teffinger jumped.
AFTERWARDS, FILLING UP THEIR COFFEE CUPS, Baxter said, “That went well.”
Teffinger shrugged.
“That’s the only card I had,” he said. “Try to rattle him.”
“Well, I don’t think it worked.”
He smiled. “Apparently not.”
“Screw you,” she added.
He laughed.
“Right, screw me.”
She put on an inquisitive face. “What about all that talk about your gut knowing he’s guilty? Was that just smoke and mirrors?”
Good question.
“That lawyer, Jackie Jax,” he said, “followed me and Rain to Colfax Avenue last Saturday night.”
Baxter was shocked.
“She did?”
“Yep,” he said. “Rain saw her there and then recognized her in the crowd photos that we got at 6th and Federal. She saw her hanging out down the street while we were interviewing hookers. She was leaning against a building and lighting matches, apparently. I didn’t personally see her, myself.”
“Why would she follow you?”
“I don’t have a clue,” Teffinger said. “But she’s up to something, and now that I know she’s Stephen Stepper’s lawyer, I know that Stephen’s up to something, which means he’s guilty.”
“Wow.”
“Major wow.”
“So what are you going to do, to find out what she’s up to? Get her in the sheets and make her scream out her dirty little secrets?”
Teffinger considered it.
Actually, it wasn’t a bad idea.
“I don’t know if I’ll go that far,” he said. “But maybe I’ll take her out for a drink.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Day Ten - July 20
Thursday Night
_____________
LARIMER STREET AFTER DARK is a trendy mix of nightclubs, restaurants, coffee shops and chance encounters. Tonight the temperature was pretty damn nice. The scorching heat had dissipated into the thin Rocky Mountain air. Jackie meandered down the sidewalk, watching the lovers, and letting the energy of the night wash over her. Two riders on crotch-rockets popped wheelies and disappeared around the corner. She walked into a bar and found it half full, mostly with younger upwardly mobile types. More than enough guys checked her out as she came in. Vivid music spilled from high quality speakers hidden somewhere in the ceiling. She walked past a number of empty bar stools and found a cozy table for two near the back corner.
Then she ordered a screwdriver.
And another.
The second one was half gone when Nick Teffinger walked in. The man was more than attractive in daylight, but now, in the dim lighting and with liquor in her gut, she found him absolutely stunning. If he asked her to stand up and take her clothes off she’d do it.
“Hey there,” he said, sitting down. He raked his hair back with his fingers. It hung in place for a moment and then fell down.
A waitress appeared, that fast.
Teffinger ordered a Bud Light. The waitress beamed as if that was a stroke of genius and scurried off to fetch it for him.
“You didn’t dress up for me,” he said. “I like that. It shows self-confidence.”
He was right.
She wore shorts and a green blouse, nothing fancy.
She held his eyes with hers, took a sip of the screwdriver, and leaned towards him. “I know why you wanted to meet,” she said. “You want to get to Stephen through me. That won’t happen.”
The waitress showed up with the Bud Light and said, “Three-fifty.” Teffinger handed her a five and told her to keep the change. Then he raised the bottle and clanked Jackie’s glass as if they were buddies, or lovers.
He took a long swallow, about a third of the bottle, then set it down. His eyes swept the room and then turned back at her. “Do you ever get in the mood to just get seriously drunk out of your mind?”
She laughed.
“Me? Never.”
“That’s sort of how I feel tonight.” He leaned closer to her. “You’re right. I came here to pump you for information and try to get something on Stephen. But now that I’m here, it seems like a low trick and I really don’t care about it anymore.”
Then he stared at her, with one blue eye and one green one.
“Tell me a secret,” he said. “Tell me something about you that no one else knows.”
She thought about it, half tempted to play along.
“And then you’ll do the same?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Absolutely. Fair is fair.”
SHE DRAINED THE REST OF THE SCREWDRIVER, then waved the empty glass over her head until she caught the attention of the waitress. She pulled out a book of matches, lit one and watched it burn, thinking.
&n
bsp; He watched the fire, waiting patiently.
“If I tell you a secret, does it stay a secret?”
“Absolutely,” he said.
“So you won’t tell anyone?”
“That’s a promise,” he said. “And you too.”
“Okay,” she said. “I had a client once. He was a big-shot at a brokerage house and got screwed big time. He had a legitimate claim for a lot of damages. The more I was around him the more I realized what a jerk he was. He was divorced for a couple of years. A friend of mine happened to know his former wife. It turned out he used to beat her up pretty bad, which is why she left.”
The waitress returned with another screwdriver. Jackie said, “Run a tab,” and sipped it.
Then she lit a match.
“The bottom line is that I settled the case for a pittance,” she said. “I knew I could get ten times more, but told him to take it, that he was getting a good deal. I screwed him over because he was an asshole.”
Teffinger clinked her glass again and drained the bottle. The waitress was back at the table before he could even set it down.
“Another one?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” Teffinger said. “Thanks.”
Then he looked at Jackie.
“Armchair justice,” he said. “It’s everywhere.”
“Yeah but lawyers are supposed to be above that. It undermines the entire justice system. We’re supposed to be the advocates, not the judge and jury.”
Teffinger cocked his head.
“So would you do it again, if the same situation presented itself?”
She shrugged.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’d like to think that I’d kick him out of the office and tell him I’m not interested in breathing the same air as him, instead of screwing him behind his back.”
Teffinger cocked his head.
“But you’re not sure.”
“No, I’m not,” Jackie said. “Your turn.”
HE GOT A DISTANT LOOK IN HIS EYE, as if going deep in thought. The waitress set another beer in front of him, smiled and left. “Okay, but remember, you can’t tell anyone.”
She promised.
“All right,” he said. “You know Jena Vellone, the TV reporter?”
She did.
“Well,” he said, “back in my high school days in Fort Collins, she was the younger sister of Matt Vellone, my best friend. She was sort of a tomboy and hung around all the time. I always had kind of a crush on her but she was three years younger so nothing ever happened, other than we’d tickle her now and then. Anyway, another one of my friends, a guy named Travis, lived on this farm that had a mountain lion in a cage, one they’d raised since it was a little cub. It was real friendly and Travis and Jena and me used to go into the cage with it and hang out, just to see how long we could stay in there before freaking out.”
He took a swig of beer.
“Cool,” she said.
“That’s not the story though,” he said. “One day Travis dares me to spend the whole night in the cage. No one had ever done that before. Jena’s with me and I said I would if she would. Being the tomboy that she was, she said she would if I would. So we go there one evening just before dark. Travis opens the lock and Jena and me get in the cage. Travis locks us in and leaves. After a couple of hours the mountain lion starts to get freaked out with us being in there so long. That freaks Jena out and she’s hiding behind me, wanting more than anything in the world to be out of there. Somehow we survive all the way to morning. It was the longest night of Jena’s life, mine too for that matter.”
She thought about it.
“So what’s the secret?”
Teffinger smiled.
“The secret is that I had another key to the lock in my pocket the whole time.”
“You never told her, afterwards?”
He shook his head. “She still doesn’t know, to this day.”
“Awesome.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Day Ten - July 20
Thursday Afternoon
_____________
THE DRIVE FROM THE RAGGED PAGE BOOKSTORE to the farm was taking Wickerfield forever. He had the radio off, concentrating on the details of the upcoming events. As soon as he got home he’d kill Ashley Conner, using his signature technique. Then he’d put her in the tub and scrub every possible trace of DNA off her lifeless little body, especially her stomach and mouth. Then, under cover of darkness later tonight, he’d dump her on Green Mountain, on the ridge above Teffinger’s house, right where the rattlesnake bit the lady in the face.
It would definitely be a lot of work to carry the body that far. But luckily little Ashley wasn’t more than a hundred pounds soaking wet. The effort would be worth it, just to picture the look on Teffinger’s face.
CNN would appreciate the irony too.
As soon as he got home he took a long piss on one of the junipers in the front yard. He could have waited another ten seconds and done it in the house, but for some reason he always enjoyed pissing outside.
It brought out the caveman in him.
ONCE INSIDE HE HEADED STRAIGHT FOR THE DUNGEON to see if Ashley Conner had come out of her coma. Then something strange happened. The key wouldn’t go all the way into the door lock. It went in about halfway and then seemed to hit something.
He checked to be sure he had the right key.
Yes, he did.
He tried again.
Same thing.
It wouldn’t go in. It was almost as if someone had jammed something in the lock from the other side, a paper clip or splinter of wood or something.
Had Ashley Conner jammed the lock?
He pounded on the door.
No sound came from the other side.
He checked the key.
It looked okay. It didn’t seem like he bent it by mistake or anything like that. He pounded on the door again. More silence.
“Ashley,” he called.
No response came.
He studied the door. The hinges were on the inside of the room. There was no way he could take the door off from this side.
HE RAN UPSTAIRS AND TURNED ON the dungeon monitor. Rather than getting a picture, the screen stayed black. He had a vision of Ashley Conner smashing the camera lens.
Damn it!
He should have never left her down there unchained, even in a coma.
He stormed back downstairs.
“Ashley,” he shouted. “You want me to use a gun instead of the bag. I’m still willing to do that if you un-jam the lock right now. You can’t go anywhere. You can’t escape. This stupid little trick won’t do anything except get me mad.”
Silence.
He wasn’t sure whether she heard him or not.
He went out to the garage and came back with a sledgehammer, then gave the door three solid blows.
Then he heard something.
“Go away!”
The words were barely audible but they were definitely words.
He pounded on the door with the sledgehammer, swinging it with all his might, not stopping until his shoulder hurt, breathing hard and out of control.
“Un-jam that lock right now!” he shouted.
“Screw you, asshole!”
Chapter Sixty
Day Eleven - July 21
Friday Morning
_____________
TEFFINGER SLEPT IN, WITH THE ALARM CLOCK OFF, until his body actually wanted to get up on its own accord. When he looked at the time he was shocked: 9:52 a.m. He rolled over on his back and kept his eyes closed. At first he was pissed that he slept so long and wasted so much of the day. Then he remembered he did it so he could rest up from the drinking with Jackie Jax last night, and be in good enough shape to be on the streets until the wee hours tonight when Mr. Wacko would be out stalking his next victim.
Instead of showering he decided to run first.
Rain intercepted him in the kitchen. She looked fantastic.
“Sorry I was asleep
when you got back last night,” she said. “How’d it go, with the lawyer?”
Teffinger cocked his head.
Good question.
“She knew what I was up to,” he said, “so it took me some time to get her off guard. I’m pretty sure that she and Stephen Stepper are somehow tied into this guy who’s terrorizing Denver.”
Rain looked shocked.
“Really?”
Teffinger nodded.
“Don’t ask me how I know,” he said, “or even why I think it, but I do.” She wore one of his long-sleeved shirts. He lifted it up, squeezed her ass and headed for the front door. “I’ll be back in a half hour.”
THE JOG MADE HIM REALIZE that he hadn’t had a good workout in over a week. There was a time, at one point in his life, when he got to the gym five days a week, no matter what. He really needed to get back into that routine before he got soft. He needed to improve his eating habits too.
He let his legs stretch and his lungs burn.
The sun felt good and so did the sweat.
When he passed Kyffin Elementary the playground was empty, so he did three sets of pull-ups on the monkey bars and then did pushups and sit-ups in the sand.
When he got back he smelled pancakes and heard Rain moving around in the kitchen. “You’re going to undo everything I just did,” he shouted from the next room, heading to the shower.
“I’ll work it off you later,” she hollered back.
HE DROPPED RAIN OFF with Jena Vellone and went straight to headquarters. When he got there he couldn’t believe his eyes. The FBI profiler—Dr. Leigh Sandt—sat at his desk going through files.
She looked at her watch as he walked over.
“Rough night?” she asked.
He ignored it and gave her a huge bear hug, actually lifting her off the ground. “You came,” he said.
She looked exactly as he remembered her from the Ganjon case: about fifty, dressed to intimidate, step-master legs encased in nylons, and a diamond on her left hand the size of a small planet. Definitely not in the crime game because she needed the money.
She put on a serious look.
Bad Client (Nick Teffinger Thriller) Page 20
