Tim was on the phone when I finally made my way back to his temporary digs. He waved me in and indicated the chair across from his desk. I sat down and placed my tote bag on the floor. I tried to casually study him. He had taken off his suit jacket, and since I didn’t see it anywhere, I assumed he’d hung it on a hook behind the door. He soon finished his call and gave me his full attention.
“So what are these odd things you mentioned, Odelia?”
I had given some quick thought to how much I should say and what I should ask. Should I stroke the snake or give him a good, solid poke and see what happens? I decided to do a bit of both. If he didn’t budge, maybe I could jab him with some of the personal information I’d just learned.
“You said the last time I was here that you and your wife thought Steele and Karen Meek might get back together.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“You didn’t know that Karen is engaged to someone else? Tom Bledsoe, in fact, owner of Amazing Games Software.”
“Really? No, I didn’t know that. We haven’t seen Karen in quite some time. Not since a ski trip we took together. Did Mike know?” While he spoke, I noted that he didn’t look at me but busied himself shuffling papers on his desk. Even if I hadn’t just seen him with Karen Meek, I would have thought he was lying from his lack of eye contact.
“According to Karen, she told him just before he disappeared.”
Tim continued to shuffle. “You think maybe he disappeared because of that?”
“You mean skulked off somewhere to lick his broken-hearted wounds?” I shook my head. “I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t sound like the Mike Steele I know, especially considering he’s been divorced from Karen for so long, but then you’ve been close friends a very long time. You probably know him a lot better than I do.”
With those words, Tim looked up briefly, then back down at his paperwork. “I’m sorry, Odelia, it seems these papers aren’t in order for my conference call, so unless you have something new to tell me about Mike, I’ll have to cut this short.”
Seems I was going to have to give the snake that good, hard jab sooner rather than later. “One more question, please, Tim?” Which meant I really wanted to ask him three or four more questions.
He looked at his watch. “Sure, a quick one.”
As I started to say something, my phone vibrated. In the small, closed office it was easy to hear. Per the display, it was Sally. I ignored it and started to say something, but it kept vibrating, over and over. I looked up at Tim and saw that he was growing impatient with the delay.
“Just a minute, Tim,” I said, holding up an index finger. “It’s my boyfriend, and he’s rather difficult to reach.” Before Tim could say anything in the negative, I retrieved my phone and answered it. “Hi, honey. I’m kind of in the middle of something right now.”
On the other end of the phone, Sally got straight to the point. “Johnette’s in the hospital. She tried to commit suicide.”
“Oh my gawd!” I stood up abruptly, almost knocking my chair backwards.
“What’s the matter?” asked Tim, trying to hide his annoyance with fake concern.
Suddenly I remembered where I was and what I was doing when the call came through. Quickly, I collected myself.
“Sorry,” I said to Tim. “It’s my boyfriend’s mother. She was in a car accident.” Then to Sally on the phone, “Is she going to be okay?”
I listened as Sally assured me that Johnette would be fine. Then I said to her, “That’s good news, honey. Tell your mother I’ll come by the hospital as soon as I can get away from work.”
From Sally’s end came a “Huh?”
“I’ll call you when I leave the office, probably in about an hour.” I paused. “Love you, too.”
After closing my cell phone, I sat back down and spent a few seconds composing myself. Things were getting out of hand.
“Is she going to be all right?”
I looked up and saw Tim peering at me with a mix of worry and frustration. He looked at his watch. Although I was quite flustered, I knew I wouldn’t get another chance to question him like this. Things were closing in fast and furious with both situations. I had to think fast even if I sprang a mental cog doing so.
“Yes, thank you, Tim. Seems she had a flat and went off the road. The hospital’s keeping her for observation.”
“Well, that’s good.” Again with the watch. “I really must get back to work, Odelia. What was that last question you wanted to ask?”
“Yes, and I need to get to the hospital.” I straightened my shoulders and surged forward. “By the way, are you a partner here at Goldberg?”
He looked surprised at my nosy question, but answered. “No, not yet, but I expect to be made one very shortly.”
From probation to partner? Seemed highly unlikely to me. I flashed a smile at him. “Then early congratulations. I hope you get everything you deserve.”
Tim Weber visibly relaxed upon hearing my best wishes. Good, I thought, I want him nice and comfy and off guard when I ask the triple-point bonus question.
“Guess I’m a little behind Mike in that regard.” He leaned back in his chair and looked genuinely puzzled. “Is that the question you were dying to ask?”
“Actually, no, but it’s related to the one I want to ask.”
I steeled myself for the inevitable explosion and picked up my bag, ready for a hasty retreat.
“Is your making partner here at Goldberg contingent on you stealing the Silhouette account away from Wallace, Boer, Brown and Yates?”
“What?” Tim Weber flew forward, out of his chair, and slammed his hands down on the desk between us.
I stood up and eased back toward the door.
“I know you and Fran Evans met with Ben Walker on Sunday. Is Fran going to be made a Goldberg partner, too? Or is she staying behind at Woobie to continue serving our clients up to you on a silver platter?”
Tim said nothing, but the muscles on either side of his neck stood out thick and corded like the rope used to moor boats. For a minute, I thought I actually saw steam come out of his ears like it does in cartoons.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He started to move from behind the desk, looking like he wanted to beat the crap out of me. I backed up closer to the door, thankful it was still normal business hours. Placing a hand on the doorknob, I turned it slightly. In my other hand, I had a tight grip on my tote bag. In an emergency, I figured it could be used as a weapon.
“You need to leave, Odelia, right now.” His voice was the low growl I had heard him use with Karen Meek. “Before I decide to slap you with a slander suit.”
“A partnership with Goldberg-Rawlings must be worth its weight in gold, especially since you’re on probation.” I rushed to get the words out before he decided to take a more physical approach to his threats. “In fact, such a partnership must be worth Mike Steele’s weight in gold, wouldn’t you think?”
Tim Weber literally got in my face. He approached me and leaned down, almost nose to nose. I could smell coffee on his breath.
“Out, now!” he shouted.
Without moving a smidgen, I looked him in the eye. “Careful. You wouldn’t want everyone in your firm to know what I suspect.” I opened the door.
“I’m warning you,” he said with a lowered voice. He grabbed my arm and started to escort me out the door when a cell phone rang. Tim stopped and swore under his breath. The phone rang again. It was coming from his jacket on the back of the door. He looked at me and then toward the door.
“That must be the call you were waiting for,” I told him, trying to be helpful.
The phone rang again. He dropped my arm and reached behind the door for it. He said hello and told the person to hold on. Covering the mouthpiece with one hand, he said to me, “Show your face here or anywhere near me again, and I’ll have you arrested for trespassing and harassment, and don’t think I won’t.”
I wiggled my fingers
at him. “No need to show me out, I know the way.”
He shut the door firmly in my face and took his call.
After buying a soda and a large fashion magazine from the little sundry store in the lobby of our building, I posted myself at one of the plastic picnic tables clustered near the parking garage. Being that it was late afternoon, it was too late for the lunch crowd and only a few smokers were scattered among the several tables. I chose an empty table partially hidden by a trash can. From here I could see everyone coming and going between the building and the garage. There was no other way for Tim to leave unless he was walking, and that was unlikely.
I had hoped that my questions would rattle him and make him angry, and they had. Now I was hoping that in his worked-up state, he would take off and lead me somewhere important. I didn’t have a clue who had called him on his cell, but I was guessing that it had been a personal call. Office calls would generally come through the office phone, though not always. My questions might also cause him to make a few calls. If Tim Weber had nothing to hide, he would call Woobie and tell them to keep me on a leash. If I had hit home with the partnership thing, he might call Fran or Karen or even whoever has Steele. I still didn’t understand Karen’s involvement, and I wasn’t worried about him calling Fran. If he did, she would have to do some fast talking if she wanted to implicate me in anything, and I knew Carl Yates had my back if she did try to stir up trouble.
Sally and I needed a breakthrough. We were never going to get close to Let Mother Do It unless someone led us there, and the clock was ticking. I had no doubt that Carl would hold me to my deadline. Right now, all we had was a sandwich cookie—a handful of suspects on one side, a handful of victims on the other, and a contract-killer crème center—and there was nothing sweet about it.
I was halfway through my soda when Tim Weber marched out of the building toward the parking garage. He didn’t look left or right, just straight ahead as he aimed for the garage elevators. I watched as he punched the up button with impatience before finally taking the stairs. Wherever he was going, he was in a rush to get there. Quickly, I made my own way into the garage.
My car was still parked in short-term parking, so it would be easy to tail Tim as he came through the parking gate. There were two other gates, but they were solely for monthly permits. I was betting that if Tim was only in the Orange County Goldberg office a few times a month, they would give him parking validations, which could only be used at the main gate—the very gate I was watching like a hawk with my motor running.
My guess became reality when a few minutes later Tim Weber passed me, heading for the main gate. He was driving a black Mercedes SUV. I was glad of his automobile choice, because with the higher profile, the vehicle would be easier to track from behind.
Once out of the parking garage, Tim headed down MacArthur Boulevard and made his way onto the 55 Freeway heading north. I dialed Sally once we both settled into a middle lane.
“It’s me,” I announced. “Any more news on Johnette?”
“No, just that she’s expected to make a full recovery. Victor tried calling you but couldn’t find your number, so Cindy called me. Johnette was found in a motel room in Whittier, unconscious from alcohol and sleeping pills.” She whistled. “Can you believe this?”
“What I don’t want to believe is that Johnette is behind the two killings, but trying to kill herself makes it look like she’s raising her hand in confession.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Hard to believe any of them would be capable of this.” Sally sighed deeply. “Well, at least Donny’s murder is off our shoulders.”
I hadn’t thought of that, but Sally was right. The police would be swarming all over the connections between the Olivers and the Moraleses.
“Where are you now?” I asked her. “Heading for Santa Barbara?”
“No, after leaving her meeting with Tim, Karen made a beeline for San Marino.”
“San Marino? Up near Pasadena?”
“Yep. She turned into a gated mini-mansion and even had the code for the gate.”
“I’ll bet that’s Tom Bledsoe’s house. I remember him telling me once in an e-mail that he lived in San Marino.”
“I’d like to stay and see if she comes out with Tommy, but these streets are lousy with private patrol cars. If I don’t move along soon, I’m sure they’ll start asking questions.”
“Okay, do what you think is best.” While I talked, Tim made a move. “Hang on, Sally.” I kept his vehicle in my sights as it made the transition to the 91 Freeway heading east, and I followed suit.
“Tim Weber is on the 91 heading toward Riverside,” I said into my phone.
“Riverside? Wonder what’s out that way?”
“Hopefully, Steele. I really rattled Tim’s cage a little bit ago. I found out that his wife’s dumped him and he’s on probation at his firm, and I tweaked his nose with some of it. That’s where I was when you called about Johnette and why I acted so bizarre.” Pressing the gas, I edged my car a little closer to his. “I let him know I’m onto him. Soon after, he climbed into his SUV and took off like a bat out of hell.”
“Odelia, be careful, and I mean very careful. I don’t like the idea of you following Weber if he’s leading you right into the hornet’s nest.” She paused. “In fact, why don’t you call the police? Call Dev Frye, let him know where you are.”
She had a good point, but I was still leery of police involvement and the effect it might have on Steele’s survival.
“Because I’m afraid if Let Mother Do It has Steele, they will kill him as soon as the police try to take over. Sometimes the police aren’t that subtle when it comes to surrounding buildings with hostages inside.” Tim made a lane change, and I copied him from a few cars back. “If I can just be sure Steele’s okay first, I’ll feel better.”
“I don’t know, Odelia. I’m really very worried.” She paused. “Uh-oh. Just as I feared. A patrol car just pulled up behind me and a rent-a-cop is getting out.”
I heard someone say something to Sally in the background. She kept the phone on while she responded. It sounded like someone was asking her who she was and what she was doing. She told him she was lost and was calling a friend for directions.
“Tell him you’re looking for the Huntington Library,” I said loudly into the phone. A second later, I heard her ask for directions to the Huntington Library. There was some talk in the background.
“Okay, just got directions,” she said to me. “I should be there in a few minutes.” I heard her thank the person, followed by the sound of her car moving.
“Quick thinking, Odelia. I was stumped for something to tell him.” She laughed. “Turns out that place is just a mile or so away.”
“At least I didn’t have to sacrifice Greg’s mother this time.” I watched as Tim pulled into the lane to his left to pass a slow-moving truck hauling gardening equipment. I accelerated and did the same, careful to still keep a few cars between us. “So what are your plans now?”
“Actually, I was thinking about pulling out the Thomas Guide and finding the quickest route to the 91.”
“There’s no reason to do that, Sally. Since you can’t wait for Karen, I think you should go home. I’ll call you later.”
“No can do, Odelia. I can’t go home and have a nice dinner with Jill, wondering if you’re safe or not.”
“I’ll be fine. No sense in both of us wasting gas. He’s probably just heading to some appointment.”
“In Riverside, late in the afternoon—I doubt it.” When I hesitated, she made a compelling argument. “Besides, Christine would never abandon Mary Beth for her gay lover.”
“Christine Cagney was not a lesbian.”
“How do you know?”
In the end, the agreed-upon plan was for me to stay on Tim Weber’s tail and for Sally to work her way to me through commuter traffic. We also agreed that I would text message her with changes in my direction, turns, roads, etc., so she could follow me—sort of
a high-tech bread-crumb trail.
Up ahead, Tim was making another move. We were almost to the 15 Freeway interchange when he started moving over to make ready for the transition onto 15 south from 91. Once again, I followed. The 15 was moving steadily but not fast. As soon as we settled into a middle lane, I texted Sally the directions.
By moving into a middle lane, I took a guess that Tim was preparing to travel the 15 Freeway for several miles. He didn’t appear to be frantic or aware of my presence, he just moved with the traffic. I took the time to reflect on what might be ahead and was suddenly glad Sally was following my trail. At least someone knew where I was heading, in case I ended up another missing link along with Steele.
I stared ahead, watching the Mercedes for any sign of sudden change of direction and wondering where and to what I was being led. Was Tim rendezvousing with the people who had Steele? Or was there yet another twist in this tale of greed and betrayal?
It hit me that I was calmly driving into deep shit, as both Carl and Sally were worried about. Thinking about facing Let Mother Do It sent chills up and down my spine. Maybe I should call Dev. This area wasn’t his jurisdiction, but he certainly considered me part of his jurisdiction. What would he say if I told him about Let Mother Do It? Would he take me seriously? In spite of his early crankiness, I knew he would at least listen if I pressed him hard enough. But I couldn’t tell him about Willie. Felon or not, Willie was my friend and was helping me.
What to do. What to do. What to do.
I was driving my old, reliable Toyota into the jaws of possible death and destruction, but I couldn’t see how I could not. I clung to the hope that Steele was still alive, and I had to do whatever I could to find him, even if that meant following Tim Weber straight into Mother’s hands.
Suddenly, I wanted to talk to the two people I loved the most—my father and Greg. Dad or Greg, which was it to be? I called my father. After letting it ring a dozen times without an answer, I called Greg.
Thugs and Kisses Page 22
