Shattered

by Jason Richards

  “I agree,” I said. “We'll have to catch a Red Sox game next season.”

  Mark tipped forward and pointed his right finger at me. “You're on,” he said. “Green Monster seats.”

  I pointed back at Mark. “I like the way you think.”

  We had always gotten along well. He started as an agent a few years after me. Mark and I had worked several cases together before I left the FBI.

  He was three or four years younger than me in his late thirties. Mark was average height and in excellent shape. His face was clean shaven and not a strand of his of close-cropped hair was out of place. I couldn't find a wrinkle on either his dark gray suit or crisp white shirt. An off the rack dark blue tie was neatly in place.

  A junior agent rapped on Mark's open office door. Mark and I looked over. “I located those files you requested,” he said.

  “Thanks,” Mark said. He leaned forward in his chair. Whisper quiet. “Sandy, this is Drew Patrick. Back in the day, he was a special agent in the office.”

  Sandy stepped in and we shook hands. “Nice to meet you,” he said.

  “Likewise,” I said.

  Mark said, “Sandy here is a new agent fresh out of Quantico. Naturally, they assigned him to the best.”

  “And he wasn't available, so they assigned him to you,” I said.

  Sandy tried not to laugh, but a small chuckle escaped. Mark looked at him. “Don't you have another case to get started on?”

  “Right,” Sandy said. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Patrick.”

  I nodded. Sandy turned on his heels and left Mark's office.

  “He's a good kid,” Mark said as he stared at his computer screen and typed on his keyboard. “He'll make a good agent.”

  “Despite being assigned to you?” I said.

  “You do want my help, correct?”

  Mark and I smiled at each other. I don't know how we let two years go by without getting together. We'd need to get together sooner than next baseball season.

  “Here we go,” Mark said. “The LA Division Headquarters questioned Grant Worthington about the deaths of Ashley Holland, Hannah Parks, and Victoria Clark. He had no information to share. Eventually he admitted to having affairs with all three of them, but denied having anything to do with their deaths. There were no cracks in his alibis, so they had nothing to hold him on.”

  “How did the agents in the room read him?” I said.

  “That he's a creep and probably guilty of major sexual harassment, but they lean toward believing him about the murders.”

  “Somebody hired Mercado for these killings,” I said. “Grant Worthington is still the only plausible connection we have to all three victims.”

  “I agree he's the best suspect,” Mark said, “but we need evidence. And it needs to be solid. As you might imagine, he's pretty lawyered up. No offense to Jessica.”

  “She's actually a PI now,” I said. “Works for Pinnacle.”

  “Swanky,” Mark said. “And yet she still is with you. Go figure.”

  I leaned forward. “No matter what angle I come at this from,” I said, “it always leads me back to Mercado. He's not only the killer, but the key to unlocking this whole case.”

  “We have nothing on him in the system,” Mark said. “The guy's a ghost. We've never even had enough evidence to pursue a case. Just a rumor here and there. Whispers.”

  I nodded. Then I stood and paced the floor of Mark's office as I thought. Then I said, “How do you hire a ghost?”

  Mark leaned back in his chair and looked at his ceiling and thought a moment. I understood the move as I often do my best thinking staring at the ceiling in my office. After several more beats, Mark tipped forward and looked at me. I didn't hear a noise out of his chair that time either.

  “Well,” he said, “I guess if you have enough money you can find a way to contact a guy like Mercado.”

  “Enough money like Grant Worthington,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Mark said. “Or somebody equally rich.”

  “They'd also need to have the right type of criminal connections, or know someone who does.”

  Mark spread his hands apart and said, “Again, if you've got enough money you can find a way to buy those type of connections.”

  “And round and round we go,” I said.

  CHAPTER 34

  After I left my meeting with Mark Sumners, I headed back to my office. I spent an hour going over the case in my mind. Clearly it required something more than staring at my ceiling. I needed to clear my head and stretch my legs.

  I swung by doggie daycare and picked up Dash for a walk. We were walking at a brisk pace along the Charles River next to Memorial Drive. Joggers, bikers, and rollerbladers passed us on the sunny and warmer fall day. Probably the last hint of warmth before winter.

  Dash wanted to stop every ten feet to mark territory, but I kept him moving. He had already emptied his bladder and would only be leaving a drop here and there. The act of walking is what helped me think more clearly.

  We approached John F. Kennedy Park to our left across Memorial Drive. Harvard students tossed footballs and frisbees. Across the Charles on our right was the Newell Boathouse. Crew shells had been packed away for the season.

  Grant Worthington's connection to Ashley Holland, Hannah Parks, and Victoria Clark continued to bother me. But we had nothing concrete to go on other than his affairs with the three young women. Also troubling was knowing, without being able to prove it, that Mercado was the contract killer.

  Dash and I continued along the path and stopped at the light on the corner of Memorial Drive and John F. Kennedy Street. We crossed Memorial with the walk signal and entered the park. We walked until we reached the fountain, drained and off for the winter season.

  Dash stood next to me, keeping an eye out for squirrels, as I sat on the edge. I wondered if the squirrels were smarter because they were Harvard squirrels, but noticed one struggling to find his stash of nuts and concluded they were not.

  Detective Captain Robert Burke called me. “A guy matching Mercado's description was a guest on Worthington's yacht,” he said. “Gave the name Dwayne Willis. Said he had played in the Canadian Football League.”

  “Let me guess,” I said, “no one by the name Dwayne Willis ever played in the CFL?”

  “The PI wins a prize,” he said.

  “I hope it's better than your usual prizes.”

  “Not unless nothing is better than nothing,” he said.

  “I don't know if you heard,” I said, “but the FBI has nothing on Grant Worthington. Questioned him, and had to cut him loose.”

  “I'm not surprised. Worthington is either extremely clever at covering his involvement, or he's telling the truth and didn't hire Mercado.”

  “I've been thinking,” I said. “Maybe we have been looking at the wrong Worthington.”

  “You talking about his wife?”

  “Why not?” I said.

  “Isn't she a client at Pinnacle Detective Agency?”

  “That is why I didn't even originally consider her. The fact she was one of their clients blinded me.” I paused a beat. “But think about it. There's certainly motive. She knew about the affair with Ashley Holland. Pinnacle provided her evidence of the affair with Ashley for divorce proceedings.”

  “Okay, you could establish motive,” Burke said.

  “And means,” I said. “Presumably the same fortune as Grant Worthington.”

  “So instead of filing for divorce, Mrs. Worthington exacts revenge by killing the women her husband is having affairs with?” Burke said.

  “And she used Pinnacle to provide evidence on who he was having the affairs with,” I said. “Who knows, maybe she never planned on divorcing her husband.”

  Burke whistled and said, “All an act to get the identities of the women to put hits out on? That's cold-hearted calculating.”

  “Obviously it's just a theory,” I said, “but it makes as much sense as Grant Worthington hiring Mercado. Maybe even
more.”

  “Hell hath no fury,” Burke said.

  “You said that. Not me. And I wouldn't repeat it front of Sanchez or Jessica.”

  “Yeah,” Burke said, “they'd kick my ass.”

  “Without breaking a sweat,” I said.

  Burke was silent on the other end of the phone. After a moment he said, “She's been right under our noses the whole time. I think we all looked past her because she was a Pinnacle client.”

  “No red flags were raised about her,” I said. “Everyone believed she wanted a divorce and half the fortune.”

  “That's all well and good,” Burke said, “but we still should have listed her as a suspect. A cheating spouse has been the motive for murder before.”

  “You're right,” I said. “We missed it.”

  We were quite a moment. Burke and I both feeling a heaviness at missing what we clearly should have seen.

  “I'm not sure it would have changed any of the outcomes,” I said.

  “You're probably right,” Burke said. “If it was Mrs. Worthington, she will have equally strong alibis. The evidence will be no easier to find.”

  “We still need Mercado,” I said. “But if our current theory is correct, we should now have a way to draw him out.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Jessica looked at me from across the small conference table in her office. I had filled her in on my conversations with Mark Sumner and Robert Burke. She considered the most recent working theory and asked, “So what is your plan?”

  “First, I'd like to establish whether Evelyn Worthington ever discussed filing for divorce with her attorney,” I replied.

  “No lawyer will discuss that with you,” she said.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said waving my hand, “attorney-client privilege.”

  Jessica sat up in her seat and said, “Drew, you can't just wave it away like it is nothing.”

  “I know it's a real thing,” I retorted, “But in this situation, I don’t care.”

  “It applies in every situation.”

  “That's the lawyer in you talking. Not the private investigator.”

  “It's the law,” she said. “Even if I’m no longer practicing, we still have to follow it.”

  I stood and walked to her window. I looked at the building across Washington Street. Some financial building. They employed a lot of number crunchers and bean counters. I wondered if any of them wore bow ties like George Saunders.

  “Your old law firm represents Evelyn Worthington, correct?”

  “Yes,” Jessica said. “They referred her to us when she inquired about hiring a private investigator.”

  “It would help to know how plausible the motive is,” I stated, still gazing out the window. The sun was setting. I always had a hard time adjusting to the sun setting early in late fall and winter.

  “She could have filed for divorce and still had those women killed,” Jessica said.

  “Yes,” I answered, turning back to Jessica, “but if she never planned on filing for divorce it makes the motive to have them murdered all the stronger.”

  Jessica sighed. “I'll make a call,” she said. “But it is going to cost you.”

  “It always does,” I said. “But I'm happy to pay.” I smiled at her. She couldn't help smiling back.

  Jessica said, “Whether Evelyn Worthington planned to file for divorce or not, you still plan to go after Mercado?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I'm convinced he killed those young women. He needs to pay the price. Mercado is also our best chance at confirming the name of the person who hired him.”

  “And you have leverage if that person is Evelyn Worthington?”

  “Yep,” I said.

  I sat back down across from Jessica. She had on her standard work clothes. A white button-down blouse and business slacks. She looked stunning in any outfit. I'd seen her make sweatpants and a ratty old t-shirt look sexy.

  “And this is where you ask for more help?”

  “But you will be handsomely paid,” I said. I raised my eyebrows like Tom Selleck used to do in Magnum, PI.

  “Don't you Magnum me,” she retorted.

  “It is cute, isn't it?” I said.

  “It is,” she sighed.

  “Okay,” I said, “I think if we, meaning Pinnacle, contact Evelyn Worthington and let her know we have evidence of Grant having another affair, we can draw Mercado out. It will also let us know that Evelyn is the one who put out the contracts to kill Ashley, Hannah, and Victoria.”

  “I think that could work,” she said.

  “Isabella Sanchez would act as our bait.”

  “A dangerous assignment,” Jessica said. “How does she feel about it?”

  “It's part of the job,” I said. “Plus, she volunteered.”

  “I can see her volunteering,” Jessica said.

  “And, yes, it's dangerous,” I said, “but she is going to have a Massachusetts State Police tactical team backing her up. Not to mention yours truly.”

  “That alone should make her feel better,” Jessica said.

  “Probably,” I said. “but she'll never admit it.”

  “I want to help,” Jessica said.

  “I know you always have my back,” I said. “And as much as I know you can more than take care of yourself, I never like you being in harm’s way.”

  “No more than I like you being in harm’s way.”

  “Jess, this isn't just me going up against somebody. We'll have a State Police tactical team. You can sit this one out.”

  “So could you.”

  “It's my case,” I said.

  “I also feel a sense of obligation to this. Evelyn Worthington used Pinnacle to get to these girls.”

  “You didn't know that,” I said. “It wasn't even your case. Besides, we all missed it.”

  “Still,” she said. “Plus, this is going down just blocks from my condo.”

  “I'm aware of the location.”

  “All I am saying is that you can't expect me to sit it out knowing all the action is so close to home.”

  I let out a breath. “Fine, you win.”

  Jessica held my hand. “What about Eddie Garavito?”

  “I'm not sure,” I said.

  “I know how conflicted you are about working with him.”

  I nodded. “In a perfect world,” I said, “I wouldn't need to associate with notorious crime bosses.”

  “But we don't live in a perfect world,” Jessica said. “Especially with many of the cases you take on.”

  “Sometimes there is no better option.”

  “And this is one of those times?”

  “I didn't ask for Eddie's involvement,” I said. “But he's involved. I don't have to like it, but it's the reality of the situation.”

  “Is there a part of you that fears losing some of yourself by associating with men like Eddie?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But I need to play the hand I've been dealt. Eddie Garavito gave us the lead on Mercado.”

  “Because he wanted your help in finding Mercado so he could kill him.”

  I inhaled and then let out a breath. “As I said, it's not perfect. But I got Eddie to back off a revenge killing.”

  Jessica kissed me. “Don’t worry,” she said, “you are too good a man to ever be like Eddie Garavito.”

  CHAPTER 36

  The investigation into Grant Worthington was a suspect in search of a motive. Evelyn Worthington had a clear motive hiding in plain sight. Listing Mrs. Worthington as a suspect was still as much a theory as Mr. Worthington, but it had some teeth.

  I was sitting at my desk reading a series of articles about Evelyn Worthington. I came across a television interview she had given to an entertainment news show which proved particularly interesting.

  “My mother died of alcohol abuse after her marriage to my father ended. He had been a serial cheater. His cheating destroyed our family. It ultimately destroyed my mother to the point where she drank herself to death. I’ve never forgotten
that. I vowed to never to be a victim like she was.”

  I hit pause on the video. “Hello,” I said out loud to myself. I hit play.

  “I worked my way through college. That is where I met Grant. Even then he was extremely charming. We fell in love. When he inherited family money we decided to invest in a small movie studio. He has such knack for spotting talent. I have a business mind. Together we have built Worthington Entertainment Group from that one small movie studio into what it is today.”

  “So you are equal partners in the business?” the television reporter asked.

  “Yes. Equal in every way. Equal partners in business, and in life.”

  “Well, you two have been a powerhouse couple in Hollywood for many years,” the television reporter noted.

  Evelyn smiled into the camera. “Yes, I suppose we have been. And I will never let anything, or anyone, come between us. When I said ‘til death do us part, I meant it.”

  I blew out a breath and sat back in my chair. I watched a few more interviews and read more articles. Evelyn often repeated the theme of her mother spiralling downward because of her father’s affairs. Then I came across a quote from Evelyn Worthington in a Los Angeles Times article that stood the hairs on the back of my neck on end.

  “My father was a weak man. He couldn’t help himself around beautiful younger women. He couldn’t resist their charms. If only someone had stopped them, maybe our lives would have been different. Better. I know my mother would not have drunk herself to death.”

  I went back to some other articles I had read. While I couldn’t draw a straight line between them, Evelyn had made similar comments about Grant when asked about alleged affairs.

  “Grant has a weakness around beautiful young women. He has had trouble, in the past, resisting their charms. But our love has endured through his indiscretions. I refuse to be a victim like my mother was. I won’t be destroyed like she had been destroyed.”