by Simon Wood
Was it? Olivia couldn’t see how. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Lyon said. “Don’t worry about it. These things happen.”
“I hate to come across as callous,” Finz said, “but we need to ask you some questions.”
Olivia nodded.
They sat her down in the living room. Finz brought her a glass of water, and a few sips helped settle her stomach.
“What happened?” Olivia asked.
“It looks as if Richard was the victim of a mugging gone wrong,” Finz said.
Olivia felt the color drain from her face. No, not a mugging gone wrong, a beating gone wrong. Roy or whomever he’d sent to work Richard over had gone too far.
She noticed Finz and Lyon staring at her, studying her. What did they see? A grieving wife or the person responsible for Richard’s murder? Her shock and dismay were real. She hoped they would camouflage her guilt.
A tremor started in her hands and spread throughout her body until she was shaking from head to toe. The manifestation stunned her. She was so detached from it. The shakes seemed to be happening a million miles away, and any attempts to quell them were well beyond her reach. The water in the glass slopped onto her knees. She clasped her hands tightly around the glass to exert some form of control over herself. The attempt failed. Her clasped hands bounced on her trembling legs.
She noticed them staring at her.
“I can’t seem to stop.”
Lyon pressed a surprisingly strong hand on Olivia’s forearm, which helped mute the shaking. She took the glass from Olivia and set it down on the table before edging closer to her on the couch. Then Finz leaned forward, invading her space. Olivia didn’t like how they were crowding her. She wanted to tell them to give her room, but that would look suspicious, as if she couldn’t deal with being under their scrutiny. She had to stick it out. At this point, she had nothing to worry about. She wasn’t a suspect. Only doing something stupid would change that.
“Is there someone you’d like us to call?” Lyon asked.
Infidelity Limited sprang immediately to Olivia’s mind. She needed to talk to Roy and find out what had gone wrong. “There’s my sister, but I’m not sure I want to trouble her with this.”
“Don’t be silly. You need family at a time like this.”
Olivia regretted mentioning Clare the second she did it. She didn’t want Clare brought into this until they’d had time to get their stories straight, but it would be a mistake to labor the point.
“You’re right,” Olivia said.
Lyon brought out a cell from her pocket. “What’s her number?”
Olivia gave the detective the number, and Lyon punched it in. “Can I talk to her? I want this coming from me.” Olivia didn’t want Clare blurting out something or coming to the wrong conclusion. She hated all the second-guessing she was having to do, but she had little choice. Trying to outthink the cops was going to be in her future for a considerable time.
Lyon smiled and handed the phone over.
The second Clare answered the call, Olivia spoke. She couldn’t give Clare the chance to say the wrong thing. “Clare, Richard’s been murdered.”
Clare was silent. This was good. Olivia needed her speechless. Words could and would sink them.
“The police are with me now,” Olivia said. “Can you come over?”
“Yes. Of course. Where are you?”
“At home.”
“I’m on my way.”
Olivia handed the cell phone back to Lyon.
“Does she live far away?” Lyon asked.
“No. Martinez.”
“That’s good.”
Olivia needed space from these two. She stood and picked up a framed photo from the mantel. It had been taken in the Bahamas a few years ago, when things were good between them. It was a snapshot of Richard squinting into the sun, leaning against a low wall with the ocean behind him. It was a typical vacation picture, but it somehow summed up Richard, her husband, his essence. She held it to her chest.
“Did he suffer?”
“Olivia, you don’t need to know,” Lyon said.
“Yes, I do.” It was part of her punishment.
“He was severely beaten,” Finz answered.
While she’d been bitching to Clare about Infidelity Limited, Richard had been dying. Was that fate or twisted karma? It didn’t bear contemplating.
Olivia replaced the photo on the mantel and pressed her hand to Richard’s image before retaking her seat next to Lyon.
“Can you tell me where your husband was tonight?” Madeleine Lyon asked.
Banging his mistress, she thought, but kept to her cover story. She guessed the investigation would unearth Richard’s affair, but she couldn’t be the one to tell them about it. They had to find that nugget all by themselves. “Yes, he was at the Crow Canyon Athletic Club in San Ramon. Do you know it?”
“We’ll find it,” Finz said.
“He plays in their squash league on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I don’t know if tonight was his practice night or a league game.”
“That’s okay.”
“Does he usually come straight home after a game?” Lyon asked.
“Yes, but sometimes he goes out for dinner with his teammates. Look, I don’t understand. Did this happen at the club?”
“No, his body was discovered on Shary Court in Concord. It’s a commercial district not far from the BART maintenance yard,” Finz said. “Would he have any reason for being there? Is that close to where he works?”
Olivia shook her head. “No. I can’t think of a reason why he’d be there. He works for an ad agency in San Francisco.”
“I see. And what do you do?”
“I’m a Realtor. My office is here in Walnut Creek.”
“Where were you tonight, Mrs. Shaw? We had to wait for quite a while for you to come home.”
Was that an accusation? Maybe all this concern for the grieving widow was merely window dressing. Or was her guilt getting to her? She couldn’t be sure about their suspicions, but they couldn’t have any firm beliefs about her involvement, not yet. She hadn’t given them any cause to suspect her. She had to play it cool. “I was at my sister’s.”
“When was the last time you saw your husband?”
“This morning when he left for work.”
“Did your husband have any enemies?” Lyon asked.
“No. He’s a good man.” The present tense. It no longer applied. “He was a good man. There’s no one out there who’d want to harm him.”
Her answer had been reflexive. Each word came crashing back at her. Yes, he was a good man, but there was one person out there who wanted him to come to harm—her. She broke down under the weight of what she’d done and burst into uncontrollable sobs.
Lyon told Olivia it was all going to be okay. Olivia wished she believed that.
“I’m sorry that we have to ask these questions,” Finz said. “But they will help us catch the person responsible for this. Anything you know could help us.”
“I don’t know anything. I wish I did, but I don’t. I . . . I can’t even believe this is happening. I’m still expecting him to walk through the door.”
“I understand.”
“What happens now? Can I see him?”
Lyon frowned as if in pain. “It’s better that you don’t.”
“His body will be released after the autopsy, probably after the weekend. The coroner will contact you about arrangements. You’ll be able to see him then, but I urge you not to. Everyone wants to make their last farewells, but it’s better you remember him the way you saw him this morning,” Finz said. “Rest assured, we will find your husband’s killer.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I will personally be investigating this case, and Detective Lyon and the rest of the detective unit will be supporting me. This isn’t San Francisco or Oakland. Homicides are rare here. We have the time to pursue your husband’s case until we have the culprit in
custody. The killer was messy and unsophisticated. That means he was careless. Careless people leave a trail. It’s only a matter of time.”
Finz’s little speech was supposed to instill confidence, but it did the opposite. Roy had given her the impression that his people were smart, a crack team of professionals who knew how to do their job and slip away unnoticed. Finz was describing an incompetent. Someone either had panicked or couldn’t turn off the violence. And if Finz caught that person, it would lead him to Infidelity Limited, and Roy would place this murder at her feet.
“That’s good to know,” Olivia replied.
“I hate to ask, but I have to cover all the bases. Did your husband have any vices—drugs, alcohol, gambling? Was he in debt to anyone?”
If Richard was hiding a mistress under her nose, could he have hidden something else from her? She’d followed him around for a few days and hadn’t seen anything else, but that didn’t mean anything.
“No, Richard didn’t have any vices,” she answered. “We are very ordinary people, leading very ordinary lives.”
The significance of what she’d said sank in. They’d been ordinary people, existing at the top of society’s bell curve, but somehow they’d gone off the rails. Richard had lived a secret life, and she consorted with gangsters who beat people up. They were hardly ordinary anymore.
“Can you tell me more about Richard?” Lyon asked. “For instance, how long have you two been married? How did you meet?”
Olivia smiled despite the situation. “Eight years. We met over a flat tire. I was coming home from work, and I picked up a flat on Highway 24. It was raining, and I was getting soaked. He stopped to help.”
“How very chivalrous.”
“It would have been if he knew how to change a tire. He was no handyman.”
The detectives laughed, and Olivia found herself laughing with them.
“Why’d he stop?” Finz asked.
“That’s what I asked, and he said he stopped because he couldn’t take his gaze off me. It was cute, but it didn’t help me change the tire. So instead, I put on the spare while teaching him how to do it. As a thank-you, he took me out to dinner, and things went from there.”
“And the rest is history,” Lyon said.
Olivia didn’t think Lyon realized the significance of her words. She was right. Their relationship was history. The future had been stolen away. The reminiscence had temporarily alleviated the pain, but that thought brought it all back and the tears with it.
“It’s going to be okay,” Lyon assured her. “You’re going to survive this.”
It was a nice idea, but she wasn’t so sure.
“Mrs. Shaw, for us to proceed full steam ahead, I need your permission to access Richard’s bank, credit card, and phone records. It’s the twenty-first century, so you can’t cough without leaving an official record of it somewhere,” Finz said.
All their accounts were joint accounts. Saying no wasn’t an option, and besides, she had nothing to fear. There was nothing in them that would connect her to Infidelity Limited.
“Sure. No problem. Do I have to sign a form or something?”
Finz smiled. “No. You just have to obtain them and hand them over to us. The last six months will be good.”
“Is tomorrow okay?”
“That’s fine, Mrs. Shaw,” Finz said. “You wouldn’t happen to know the code to Richard’s cell phone, would you? We have his phone, but we’re locked out.”
“Yes, it’s two-seven-two-seven. His high school football number repeated.”
Finz smiled and jotted down the number.
“Do you have contact info for Richard’s squash buddies? I’d like to talk to them,” Finz said.
She reeled off the half a dozen or so names of the guys she’d met in the past. “Their info should be on his phone.”
A cell phone rang. It took a moment before Olivia realized it belonged to her. The bland ringtone was coming from the cell Roy had given her.
She reached for her purse and knocked it off the table. Half its contents spilled onto the floor. Finz picked up the ringing phone and glanced at the postage stamp–sized screen before handing the cell to Olivia. Luckily, Roy’s name hadn’t come up on the caller ID, just the number and the words “cell phone.” She pressed the key to ignore the call.
“No one important?” Finz asked.
“Under the circumstances, no.”
Finz’s attention went to something else on the ground. She followed his gaze to her other cell phone.
“You have two cell phones?” he asked. “That’s unusual.”
Olivia was saved from responding by Clare letting herself in through the front door. She swept in, calling Olivia’s name.
“We’re in the living room,” Olivia answered.
Clare blew by Finz and Lyon and crushed Olivia in a hug. “I’m so sorry, Liv.”
Being held felt good, and Olivia sagged, letting her sister take her weight.
Finz and Lyon got the message that their interview was over for now and stood. They excused themselves, and Olivia and Clare saw them out.
Olivia closed the door on the detectives. She shrugged off the weight of having to pretend and slumped against the door. She closed her eyes. She just needed a moment of clarity to decide what to do next, but there was no peace.
The clinking of glasses from the direction of the kitchen drew her back to her feet. In the kitchen she found Clare with a bottle of wine and two glasses. It was just like her sister to hit the booze when a clear head was needed. Clare pushed a glass over to her.
“What are we going to do?” Olivia asked.
“Nothing,” Clare said.
Nothing was a dangerous proposition. Nothing was taking her hands off the wheel. Nothing put others in control. Nothing wasn’t an option.
“The way I see it,” Olivia said, “we have two options: tell the cops or—”
“No way,” Clare blurted. “The second you mention your involvement, it’s game over.”
Olivia knew going to the cops was putting a gun to her head, but she recognized the value. “The longer we deceive them, the worse it will be. If we go to them now, we stand a chance. They can protect us. We can work out a deal.”
“What deal, Liv? You had your husband killed. The only deal they’ll give you is life in prison or the death sentence.”
“Hey, I never wanted him killed.”
Clare jerked a thumb in the direction of the recently departed detectives. “Do you think Cagney and Lacey will care? Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We aren’t going to the cops. What’s the other option?”
“We talk to Roy. We need to find out what happened.”
“And then what? Have his people turn themselves in? Liv, it doesn’t work like that.”
Leverage was the problem. Olivia didn’t have anything she could use against Roy and Infidelity Limited. If she didn’t give Finz and Lyon something to implicate him, she’d just be throwing herself under the bus. As it stood now, she had this fantastical story about a shadowy organization. They weren’t going to believe that without names and faces. Roy had been right when he boasted about Infidelity Limited’s ghostlike existence. Trying to sell Infidelity Limited as a defense was up there with the Twinkie defense. Screwed didn’t begin to describe her position.
“We don’t even know if Roy had anything to do with this,” Clare said.
Christ. That was Clare for you. When the going got tough, deny the tough existed. No wonder she was always in a hole. Olivia might be in the hole with her, but she’d be damned if she’d keep on digging.
“Bullshit. Do you think the coincidence fairy just struck? Of course it was Roy. He called while the cops were here. That wasn’t happenstance. He was calling to let us know something had gone wrong.”
“You keep saying us.”
Clare’s remark was small, but the implications were huge. Olivia knew her sister well enough to know she was getting ready to bolt from her problems. She always did. It
wasn’t personal on her sister’s part. It was instinct. Self-preservation came before everything else, including family. Clare wouldn’t dodge her responsibilities this time. Olivia wouldn’t let her.
“Whether you like it or not, Clare, you’re involved.”
Clare held up her hands. “I just put you in touch with Roy. That’s it.”
“That’s more than enough. In the eyes of the law, you and I are just as guilty as the killer.”
Olivia saw the panic in her sister’s eyes. That wasn’t good. Olivia couldn’t afford to lose Clare to her fears. Olivia couldn’t count on her sister when she felt insecure.
“I know it’s not right. We need to work together to make it right, or as right as possible.”
“What’s that mean?”
Olivia was guilty. Even if she could show she had no part in Richard’s murder, she was still guilty of hiring Infidelity Limited. God, she’d been stupid. She’d let emotion and a moment of weakness brush aside good judgment. Not that that was a defense.
“I have to go to the cops,” Olivia said.
“Are you crazy?”
“No, not if I go to them with something proving we had nothing to do with the murder.”
“How the hell are you going to do that?”
That was the hard part. “I don’t know.”
“Jesus, Liv. You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“I know.”
“Screw it. Let’s pack up everything we can and disappear.”
Olivia was losing Clare again. She was after the simple solution that never existed. “How do we do that exactly?”
“I . . . I . . . I don’t know, but it sounds a shitload better than your idea.”
Clare had an answer, but it wasn’t a good one. No one could disappear these days. They’d get picked up in a week, and that was being optimistic. Even if they could disappear, what kind of life would they live? No, Olivia wasn’t going down that twisted road.
“C’mon, Liv. How are you going to save us? You’re the smart one. You’re the successful one. You have all the answers. It’s time for you to come up with one.”
“Clare, just stop. Give me a second.”
Clare came back to the counter and swiped up her drink. “Well, you’ll need to work faster than that if you expect me to stick around.”
