by Conn, Claudy
• • •
ONE OF THE added benefits of having their presence discovered was that David was no longer forced to work in the shadows. Grady was growing tired of the questions being fired at him. He was probably grilling him worse than Agent Tam, but at least he was on Grady’s side. Agent Tam was still a giant question mark.
“I’m not sure what you want from me,” Grady groaned from across the kitchen table at the B&B.
David hesitated, trying to find a nice way to describe the pickup beach Grady frequented. Brittany sat beside the boy, so he strived to find a way to phrase it so it wouldn’t upset her. “Marissa spoke to a young girl from...”
Britt rolled her eyes and saved him the trouble. “From booty beach.”
David nodded his thanks and refocused on Grady. “She mentioned a girl named Callie. Does that ring any bells? She’s not in your...” David once again found himself stumbling.
“Tapped That list,” Brittany filled in for him. “I appreciate the effort, but stop worrying about my feelings. I know the score.”
Grady exhaled sharply. “I completely forgot about her.”
“Tell me.” David repositioned his notepad and readied himself to jot down any pertinent information.
“I don’t know her that well,” Grady began. “After we...” His eyes darted guiltily in Brittany’s direction.
Britt shook her head in frustration. “Hooked up,” she finished for him. “Since neither of you are able to bruise my delicate sensibilities, I’ll be in the other room...eavesdropping.” She pushed her chair away from the table and left in an angry huff.
When the door closed behind her, David urged Grady to continue.
The boy placed his hands on the table and drew in a deep breath. “Callie and I saw each other for several weeks. When Brittany arrived, I stopped taking her phone calls. Most girls take the hint, but not Callie. She turned into a stalker. One day, I saw her down the street, just watching. It freaked me out, so I went over and asked if I could borrow her phone. When she handed it to me, I deleted my number.” Grady paused, trying to remember if he left anything out. “She screamed at me that she was only there because she couldn’t get a hold of me. I remember thinking it was odd because Callie never raised her voice before. She was the kind of girl who would wait on me hand and foot. I don’t think I was sober the entire time we were together. It was rough having to get up to work the Coffee Cart. Callie kept the beers flowing. I don’t think I even pitched in any cash.” As the words he spoke sunk in, Grady groaned. “I never told Agent Tam any of this. I’m shallow and stupid. I saw my trash cans overflowing with the empties, and Callie never crossed my mind.”
Brittany called out from the other room, “I’m in love with an idiot!”
Grady grinned from ear to ear. “She loves me.”
“Yeah, but she thinks you’re an idiot,” David reminded him.
“Well,” the kid snickered, pulling out his phone, “I can’t argue with that.”
“Who are you calling?”
“I think Agent Tam needs to hear about Callie Johnson.”
Brittany burst back into the kitchen. “HOLY SHITBALLS! Did you say Callie Johnson?”
David and Grady just stared.
She rushed out into the living room and returned a moment later with a laptop. She placed it in front of David. “Do your detective thing and find out if Callie is related to Warden.”
David opened the monitor. “Sure, but first you have to tell me who Warden is.”
“He’s the guy Larry Wright supposedly hired to help with the yard work at Lena’s. He quit when Larry died because he wasn’t getting paid.” Brittany’s eyes flew wide with panic. “What if he had something to do with Larry’s death?” Brittany gasped, remembering another piece of information. “And Grady saw Warden walking by his house when he was scanning the feed from the security cameras. I thought he was looking for me to pick up the letter of recommendation Lena wrote for him, but I don’t recall ever telling him where I lived.”
Marijuana to murder? David thought that was quite a leap, but he didn’t dismiss it as coincidental either. He and his father-in-law had their issues over the years, but if there was something hinky about his death, David would find it. He tapped Grady’s hand. “You might want to mention all that to Agent Tam, too.”
18
AYAKO TAM RUBBED her chin thoughtfully. The phone call she received from Grady Barlow opened up several new leads, but she wasn’t thrilled to hear someone else was imposing themselves on her case. First, an out-of-state lawyer jumps to the boy’s defense, now a private detective from the mainland was nudging in on her territory.
To his credit, David Crandall knew how to work an angle. After his honeyed words dripped off his tongue, she hardly felt the imposition at all. In fact, she found herself inviting him to collaborate. Tam had been played, but her boss wanted this case wrapped up in a hurry, and the unpaid help Mr. Crandall provided would ease their tight budget.
It was decided she would track down the tag team of Callie and Warden Johnson while David looked for a possible link connecting them to the death of Larry Wright. Ayako didn’t think that lead would pan out. The coroner’s report was clear. Mr. Wright died of a brain aneurysm. If David somehow proved otherwise, it would be a feather in her cap, but she wasn’t going to waste any of her precious time running down that aspect of the case.
Her phone pinged and a photo of Callie Johnson smiled up at her. Grady enjoyed taking selfies of him and his girls. His narcissism paid off where the case was concerned. A few more clicks on her keyboard and Callie was being scanned by the system. If the young woman had a record, Ayako would hear about it shortly. In the meantime, she would find out whatever else she could about the twosome.
• • •
THE NUMBER OF corpses waiting their turn for the autopsy table floored David. Hawaiians were dropping like flies today. He’d been sitting in the corridor of the morgue, waiting to talk to the man in charge for far too long. Being idle didn’t sit well with him. He needed information and he needed it yesterday.
The slow pace of the island had no place in this building. Everyone was working at a frantic rate.
He checked his watch. With any luck, he’d catch someone as they headed out for lunch.
Footsteps clacking down a connecting hallway caught his attention. As they drew closer, David stood and waited. A man wearing a white lab coat turned the corner. His lanyard held the name of the man he was waiting to see. David stepped forward and extended his hand. “Dr. Chou. My name is David Crandall. I was hoping to speak with you.”
Dr. Chou smiled. His teeth were yellowed and David caught a whiff of stale cigarettes. The doctor was probably headed out of the building to sneak a smoke.
“I figured. I received approximately seven messages from you this morning. I only have a few minutes.” Dr. Chou continued down the passageway. “Walk with me.” They made their way outside, and after the coroner lit up and sucked in a deep drag, he asked, “What can I do for you?”
Not finding a way to avoid the secondhand smoke the good doctor was omitting, David tried to make this conversation as short as possible. “My father-in-law passed away recently and you performed his autopsy.”
“You’re referring to Larry Wright, correct? Your wife is Marissa Crandall. I released his body to her. I recognized the name.”
“You have a good memory.”
Dr. Chou chuckled. “We’re not always this swamped, and brain aneurysms are rare. Your father-in-law was hard to forget.”
David rubbed his neck. Brittany’s theory about foul play wasn’t looking good. “Is there a way for someone to induce an aneurysm?”
The doctor cocked his head and filled his lungs with nicotine. “You suspect murder.”
“Not exactly,” David explained. “But I’d like to rule it out.”
“Consider it ruled out. The lab results confirmed that Mr. Wright wasn’t taking his high blood pressure medicine as prescrib
ed, but that was only one of the contributing factors. His arteries were in bad shape and his cholesterol level was off the charts. With his lifestyle, it was only a matter of time before something happened. It was just his bad luck he also had a weak area in the lining of his internal carotid.” Chou glared at his cigarette and dropped the butt to the ground. “Nasty habit. If I’m not careful, I could end up like your father-in-law.” His eyes filled with compassion. “If it’s any consolation, the aneurysm saved him from a long drawn out illness. His death was relatively quick. I doubt he felt pain after he lost consciousness.”
An emotional pit formed in David’s gut and tears stung his eyes. He hadn’t cried since he first heard the news. He pushed his personal sorrow aside to be strong for his wife and kids. David was fine as long as they kept to the facts, but the moment the doctor expressed sympathy, his throat began to tighten. All he could do was nod in reply.
The coroner squeezed his shoulder and headed back inside the building.
David made it to the parking lot before he was unable to control the sobs. People turned at the sound, but he pressed on. The moment he closed the door to the rental, he let the grief engulf him.
• • •
BRITTANY SCANNED LENA’S cove for the spinners. “Are they really gone?”
Grady brushed against her shoulder. “I haven’t seen them since Mr. Kaplinger’s departure. Every last one of them left with the Winter Solstice, just like Lena predicted.”
Brittany wished she hadn’t been right. She missed Mr. Caprice, and the spinners. What she didn’t understand was how they could leave before their troubles were over. According to Lena, they brought luck and love. Her relationship with Grady was blossoming in multiple shades of hearts and flowers, but they were sucking fumes in the luck department. They hadn’t heard a word from Agent Tam, and other than Warden walking by, absolutely nothing useful showed up in the feed from the security cameras.
Her shorts were just a little too skimpy and sand crept into a few unwanted places. She stood and walked down to the shoreline.
Grady followed. “Wanna go for a swim? I’ve been getting in the water a little every day. I’m trying to move on with my life.”
“You’re serious about swimming?” she asked. “Not just wading out to your knees?”
“I’m a good swimmer. Don’t worry,” he teased, “you won’t have to save me again.”
Brittany stepped into his waiting arms. “I’m proud of you.” She nibbled on his neck. His skin tasted salty. He wasn’t lying. Grady had already been in the water today. She wanted to see his progress for herself.
Brittany broke away and skipped out into the waves, kicking up a copious amount of water in her wake.
Grady planted his feet solidly in the sand. “You don’t think I can do it.”
A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes. “You talk pretty big for a kid who almost drowned because of a panic attack a couple weeks ago.”
“You really don’t believe me,” he called out.
“Catch me if you can.” Brittany turned and dove into the sea. When she broke the surface, she looked to see if Grady was following her. He wasn’t on the beach, so she scanned the surrounding water. Grady was propelling himself with powerful strokes down a parallel line from the shore. The boy was way ahead of her. She was going to have to hustle if she wanted to catch him.
Brittany felt excitement bubble up inside her. She was happy. Really happy. Barging into her sister’s life, home, and family was the best decision she ever made. She dallied a few moments too long and Grady pulled further away. Brittany would never be able to catch him, so she swam back to shore to admire his performance. Back on the beach, she sat and watched the boy she loved overcome his worst fear.
Mr. Caprice’s voice spoke inside her head. Luck and love, Brittany. You and Grady get both.
She looked around to make sure the old guy wasn’t somewhere nearby, but she only saw sand. Britt decided to trust the voice and not over analyze it. Kap was either with the dolphins, or not. Nothing she believed or imagined would change reality.
Grady made his way back toward her. He was a strong and confident swimmer. His fluttering feet propelled a wake behind him. Stroke after stroke, his shoulders rolled side to side to enhance his pull.
Suddenly, he stopped. His head jerked out of the water in search of something.
A spinner exploded high into the air and flipped above his head.
Grady reached out. His hand grazed the dolphin’s smooth underbelly. The spinner landed with a splash, and with a quick flip of his tail, disappeared into the depths.
“Did you see that?” Grady shouted.
Brittany grinned and gave him a cheery thumbs-up.
Grady stayed in the water, hoping for more, but Brittany knew that was Mr. Caprice’s final goodbye. He wouldn’t return again, at least not this year.
• • •
DAVID SAT IN the car and tried to get a grip on his emotions. When he felt more in control, he pulled out his phone and called his wife.
It went straight to voicemail.
He drew in a ragged breath and hoped his crying jag was over. “Hi, babe. I just spoke with the coroner. Your dad died of natural causes. Brittany was wrong. There was no foul play involved.”
He disconnected and memories of Larry took hold. David leaned his head on the steering wheel. He wanted this case over. He wanted to see his kids, and he wanted to attend Larry’s memorial service back in San Diego. He needed to show his respect and tell the old guy goodbye.
Three years ago, after Marissa’s father permanently moved to Hawaii, his wife took command of his law firm. She hated the job from day one, but with her family in crisis, Marissa felt it was necessary for her to step in. Now that the eye of the storm had passed, and the family was once again on firm footing, she wanted out.
David was oversimplifying the reason she was giving up the powerful position. Marissa had a lot of reasons. Her father’s departure to Hawaii and Annie’s marriage changed the dynamic of the office. In the past, whenever she had a bad day or made an unpopular decision, she could always drop downstairs where Annie worked or pop in on her dad to blow off steam. Without her support system intact, work wasn’t fun anymore. The pressure she felt was released in harsh words directed at her children and David. Something had to give, and it wasn’t going to be her family.
At least that was what she was telling everyone.
David knew better. Marissa was afraid for him. She was petrified he would be hurt again. He couldn’t blame her. He came pretty close to losing his life a few months ago, and although he liked to play the tough guy, he wasn’t sure he wasn’t just as frightened as his wife.
He and his partner, Woody Hooten, provided security for one of Josh Howard’s clients. This was not part of their job description as the in-house detectives of the law firm, but they agreed to step outside the strict boundaries Larry Wright set in place.
The client’s husband had a nasty reputation for beating his wife. After seeing her bruises and medical records, the two felt they needed to help the petite woman who had unwittingly become a punching bag.
They stashed her in the apartment Larry kept in San Diego.
His partner was young, but not inexperienced. Woody had all the instincts for being a first rate private detective. He survived an unsupervised childhood on the streets of one of the worst sections of Los Angeles. Woody walked away relatively unscathed and had the sense to get a good education, courtesy of Uncle Sam and the United States Marine Corps.
Woody worked for the firm as an independent contractor for about a year before David urged Marissa to put him on full time. The young detective was racking up so many hours, it was costing the company a bundle. It was much more cost effective to put him on the payroll permanently, with benefits and all, than to pay out the hourly rate he charged.
Now, Woody was confined to a wheelchair and David had his own set of scars to deal with. The client, only twenty-five years old
, with her whole life ahead of her, was dead. So was her violent husband, but the damage he did before David killed him was immense.
The husband discovered their whereabouts and waited for an opportunity to present itself. He didn’t have to wait long. David was tired and didn’t notice he was being followed. He underestimated the husband’s ingenuity and inadvertently led the estranged spouse directly to his wife.
Armed with a sawed off shotgun, the husband bashed David in the back of the head with the butt of his weapon. The first shot the man fired hit his wife in the head, killing her instantly.
Woody dove for cover. He was quick and smart enough to grab hold of the edge of the table and take it over with him as he fell. He was shot in the back three times before he hit the ground, but the table did its job and took the brunt of the deadly spray. The fact that he survived was a miracle. He would probably never walk again, but he was alive and grateful for every minute.
As Woody recovered from his wounds, his wife discovered she was pregnant with their first child. God kept Woody alive for a reason that day. He wasn’t going to blow it by throwing himself a pity party. Legs didn’t make the man. Woody was determined to make a life for his family, and whether he was able to walk or not wasn’t something he factored into the equation.
Good luck shined on David that day as well. He couldn’t remember a thing. Woody credited him with killing the bastard. Before David lost consciousness, and the memory of killing another human being, he cracked the husband’s skull in with an iron lamp he managed to get his hands on.
“You have to thank that decorator chick,” Woody said when David finally opened his eyes after being in the hospital for several days. “I always hated that lamp, but it came in handy. I guess you never know.”
That decorator chick Woody referred to was Annie Javier, Marissa’s best friend and the former design consultant who decorated the apartment.
David and Annie didn’t always get along. Over the years, they managed to smooth out most of their differences, but it still rankled him to have to thank her for presenting him with a means of defense at a time when he needed it most.
