Deceptive Practices

by Simon Wood

  “What?”

  “Not all Renko’s pals were losers. One of them was an army grunt. On leave, by all accounts. His name is in here.”

  Finz knew the name before Bob found it in the file.

  “Yeah, here it is. Andrew Macready.”

  “This is where I get back in the game. Guess who’s hanging around Olivia after twenty years?”

  “Macready?”

  “Yep. What can you tell me about him?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Olivia arrived at Andrew’s house a few minutes late. He lived at the end of a cul-de-sac in a nice San Ramon neighborhood not far from the golf course. She pulled up next to his truck in the driveway. The house, a midcentury ranch, was cute. Some might think the style was dated, but it felt warm and nostalgic. The setting sun casting a golden halo over the street had little to do with that feeling. A lot of it had to do with her age and the fact that these houses were the ultimate middle-class living when she was a kid. Growing up, it was a place she would have killed to have called home.

  Andrew answered the door and hugged her. “Sorry I couldn’t be there for you last night.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He led her through the house into the dining room, across from the kitchen. For a divorced man, he kept the place feeling like a home and not a man cave. The place was nicely decorated. No sign of a gaming console or the widest of wide-screen TVs on display. She’d witnessed some sights during her time as a Realtor.

  He pulled out two chairs at the dining table for them to sit. “What have we got?”

  She handed over the envelope Roy had given her. He emptied the contents onto the table and sifted through it. He separated out the photographs of the two women before going through their profiles.

  They spent all night, into the early hours, poring over the information Roy had gathered. She liked Andrew’s methodical approach. It was something she couldn’t achieve because it all seemed too familiar. Looking at the breakdowns of the lives of these women was like looking into a mirror. Somewhere there was a dossier on Richard and her, just like this one, their lives deconstructed into habits and haunts, strengths and weaknesses, opportunities and threats. She felt like a rat in a maze with the scientists watching.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  Andrew looked up. “It’s thorough, and it’s a start. I want to get a couple of maps and see where everything is. We really need to see these people up close before we can make a move. We’ll blow it if our timing’s wrong. How long did he give you to get this done?”

  “No longer than a month, although he didn’t want me rushing it.”

  “I think quicker is better if we can manage it. Staying ahead of his schedule works to our advantage.”

  “How do we go about this, then—just approach them?”

  “No. We treat this exactly how Roy expects you to. We observe first, come up with a plan, then move in. Roy’s scammed you once. I don’t want him doing it again.”

  That thought did little to allay Olivia’s fears. For all she knew, this was just a test to keep her in check or put her even deeper under Roy’s control.

  “Are you working at the moment?” Andrew asked.

  “Not really. I check in with the office, and I take calls. That’s about it. I do have Richard’s funeral coming up. Not to mention Finz’s shadow.”

  “It might be better if I do the legwork. It’ll give you deniability. I can take a few days off to watch Heather and Amy Moore-Marbach. My guys don’t need me around at the new house. They know what they’re doing.”

  Confiding in Andrew was proving to be a lifesaver. “That could be good.”

  The doorbell rang.

  Olivia stiffened. She couldn’t be found here. Not with Roy’s Infidelity Limited client file around. She reached for the paperwork.

  “It’s okay. I’m expecting this,” Andrew said. “Don’t look so worried. It’s a surprise.”

  “A surprise?”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll like it.”

  He went to the door. She remained out of sight in the dining room and couldn’t quite hear the conversation.

  Suddenly, she remembered her car. She’d left it out front for everyone to see. She should have parked a couple of streets over so no one at Infidelity Limited could connect her to Andrew.

  A minute later, Andrew came back carrying a pizza box and wearing a big grin.

  The panic she’d felt evaporated. “You got Royston’s?”

  “Only the best deep-dish pizza this side of Chicago.”

  He placed the pizza box on the countertop in the kitchen. He reached inside the fridge and brought out two bottles of RC Cola.

  A Royston’s pizza and an RC Cola was their thing when they were dating. “RC Cola too? Where the hell did you find that? What’s going on?”

  “Call it a celebration.”

  A celebration of what? She couldn’t see anything worth celebrating.

  “The San Pablo house closed escrow today. The Delgados have their home, and I have the fruits of my labors.”

  “Congratulations.”

  As Andrew got a couple of plates and hefted a slice onto each of them, Olivia unscrewed the caps on the RCs. He slid a plate over to her.

  “Also,” he said, “the key to getting through this thing with Infidelity Limited isn’t just beating them at their own game. Morale is a big part of this too. That means remembering to smile. Royston’s always made you smile.”

  Royston’s did make her smile. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a Royston’s special. A few years at least. Certainly a couple of inches off her waistline ago.

  She smiled. “Thanks.”

  He placed a hand over hers. His touch reached back twenty years. It felt familiar. It felt good. It felt right. A life not lived ran through her mind. It threw up an alternate history—one where Roy never crossed her path.

  “How did we ever lose touch?” she asked.

  “I made a mistake.”

  “And I should have forgiven you.”

  “Do over?”

  She nodded.

  Andrew leaned over. He was going to kiss her. She didn’t pull away.

  Then her cell rang, and the moment was gone.

  “I should get that.” She fished her cell out of her purse. She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “You want to know about Nick?” a harsh male voice barked.

  The question threw her for a minute. Mandy had lied. She’d talked to someone. “Er . . . yes.”

  “There’s a Handyman home-improvement store in Stockton. Meet me there in an hour. And come alone.”

  Olivia turned into the Handyman’s parking lot as instructed. The store was deserted since it had gone out of business. Signs pronounced that it was now the site for a new housing development. Chain link surrounded the building, but the parking lot was still open.

  No other vehicles were waiting for her, so she parked in the middle. If anyone approached, she’d see them coming.

  “Are you okay back there?” she asked.

  “Don’t worry about me. Just keep your eyes open,” Andrew said from the trunk.

  The final instruction she’d received was to come alone. Andrew had told her, “No way,” and insisted on coming along. He didn’t want to scare the caller off, so he’d climbed into the trunk after they pulled off I-5. For a big guy, he had fit into the trunk nicely.

  “Pop the trunk for me in case I need to jump out.”

  She did, and Andrew held the trunk on the latch.

  “What do you see?” he asked.

  “Nothing. We’re alone. No other cars. The building’s in darkness.”

  “Any hiding spots—dumpsters, trash enclosures, loading docks?”

  “Nothing from where we are. It’s just the building and the parking lot. We’re alone.”

  “I doubt that. I’m sure we’re being watched.”

  Olivia was glad Andrew had come with her. She needed him the
se days. How had life gotten so dangerous so quick? In a matter of weeks, she’d gone from normalcy to insanity.

  “I’m going to try calling him,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  Her mystery caller hadn’t given her his details, but that didn’t matter. She pulled out her cell and pulled up her incoming-call log. Modern technology made it hard to hide your information. She dialed the number, but the call went straight to voice mail. The caller had switched his phone off.

  “Any luck?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then he’s here. I’m sure we’re in for a long wait.”

  And Andrew was right. Thirty minutes dragged by. Then forty. After an hour, the air turned stale inside the car, and Olivia cracked a window. The night air drifted in, with traces of the day’s heat still in it. Its touch on her skin revived her, but there was no such respite for Andrew.

  “How are you doing back there?”

  “Fine. No cramps.”

  A splash of light caught Olivia across the back of the neck. She whipped her head around. A car was turning into the parking lot.

  “There’s a car,” she announced.

  “What’s it doing?”

  “It’s turning around by the entrance. Now it’s stopped. I don’t know if they’re expecting me to follow.”

  “Just hang tight.”

  Olivia stared at the car’s ruby-red taillights burning in the darkness. From their glow, she could make out two figures. Then the car pulled away.

  Just as she was about to tell Andrew, her door flew open. A pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked. Her seat belt kept her pinned in place, but the belt dug deep into her neck, reducing her cry to a gurgle. She elbowed her attacker and hit the seat belt release with her other hand. She and her attacker went sprawling to the ground, with her on top.

  In the faint starlight, she recognized her attacker. It was Nick. Mandy had proved to be a good liar. Olivia had believed her when she said she hadn’t seen her brother.

  He flipped her over and used his body weight to pin her to the asphalt. “What do you want?”

  Before she could answer, Andrew was on him. He grabbed Nick and tore him off her, then disabled him with a couple of swift punches to the kidneys. Nick dropped to his knees, sucking in ugly breaths. Andrew shoved him onto his belly with his foot before pressing his knee into Nick’s back and cuffing his hands behind him with a plastic cable tie.

  “You okay?” Andrew asked.

  Despite the minor nature of the tussle, her bones were ringing from the impact. She’d probably have a few sore spots in the morning. “I’m fine.”

  “Are we going to have problems with your friends in the car?” Andrew asked Nick.

  “They’re not with me. I’m alone. I just used that car as a distraction so I could get to Olivia,” Nick whined. “If you’re going to kill me, just fucking do it.”

  Andrew hauled Nick up to his knees. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m not stupid. You’re here to kill me. Clare sent you. I didn’t think she’d get her sister to do it.”

  “We’re not here to kill you.”

  Nick looked from Andrew to Olivia. “You’re not?”

  “No,” Olivia said. “We just want to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Why you think Clare is trying to kill you for a start,” Olivia said.

  “But I think we should discuss that somewhere with a little more light,” Andrew said.

  Andrew shoved Nick into the backseat and slid in next to him. Olivia closed the trunk, got behind the wheel, and turned the car around.

  Nick stared at Andrew for a long moment before saying, “Andrew Macready, right? The last I heard, you joined the army.”

  “The last I’d heard of you, you were an asshole, and I don’t think a lot’s changed.”

  “Screw you, army boy.”

  “Hey, quit it, the both of you,” Olivia said. “Leave the testosterone elsewhere.”

  They stopped at a Jack in the Box. As a gesture of goodwill, Andrew cut the cable tie binding Nick’s wrists, and they went inside.

  Following the guys into the burger joint sent Olivia back twenty years. How many times in high school had she come to a place like this with Andrew and Nick? Only Clare and Mark were missing.

  Nick hadn’t changed much. He was still the scrawny kid she’d grown up with. But that wasn’t quite true. Back then, he’d always looked like he’d slept in his clothes and his hair never seemed to have met a comb. Now he sported a sensible haircut—number three, short with a side part—and was dressed in a freshly ironed polo shirt over dress pants. Those weren’t the best clothes for a clandestine adventure. He’d picked up a tear on the right leg from the scuffle.

  A handful of people were having a late-night meal in the fast-food joint, so Andrew claimed a corner booth. In case Nick had any ideas about bolting, Andrew pressed him into a seat against the wall and sat next to him to pin him in.

  Olivia got the food and brought it back to the table.

  Nick tore into the burger and fries. “I need this. It’ll be hours before I get home.”

  Olivia and Andrew exchanged a look. Nick hadn’t brought them to his home turf. Olivia found that curious. “Where do you live?”

  “That’s something you don’t need to know,” he squeezed out between bites.

  “Answer her,” Andrew said.

  “No, that’s okay,” Olivia said. Nick was right; she didn’t need to know. But more importantly, a little give-and-take was a good thing. Nick wouldn’t talk if he didn’t feel his safety was intact.

  “So why have you been poking around, looking for me, Liv? And don’t tell me it’s because Clare wants me to come to a funeral. You wouldn’t have had army boy hiding in the trunk if that was it.”

  Andrew bridled at being called “army boy,” but he kept it bottled.

  “My husband was murdered.”

  “To lose one husband, Liv, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness,” Nick said, paraphrasing Oscar Wilde. Nick had never been much of a student, but English was the only thing Olivia remembered him ever being good at.

  “Let’s forget about my husbands and talk about why you ran out on my sister and why you think she’s trying to kill you.”

  The questioning didn’t agree with Nick. He struggled to get the mouthful of food down. “I’m not bullshitting you, and as much as you might not want to hear this, Clare tried to have me killed.” He sat back in his seat, waiting for recriminations. When they didn’t come, his expression tightened. “You knew about this?”

  “Keep your voice down,” Andrew said. “We’re all friends here.”

  “Clare didn’t try to kill you,” Olivia said. “She hired someone to slap you around a little.”

  “She did what?”

  “You can’t say you didn’t deserve it,” Olivia said.

  She wasn’t sure Nick had heard her. He was riding a private roller coaster of emotions. After a minute, the tension went out of his body.

  “You’re right,” he admitted. “It wasn’t like I didn’t need the straightening out. I was a jackass back then. But your sister was no angel either.”

  “I know. So what happened?”

  “I was in Fairfield, driving back home to Clare. It was late, and I’d been drinking, so I kept off the main roads. I stopped at a four-way, and I got tapped from the rear. I didn’t care about fault and insurance. I knew I was over the limit, so I kept going, but this chick kept following me. I tried to lose her, and I ended up dead-ending at some park. She blocked me in. I got out to tell her to forget it, and she pulled a gun. I bolted for the park, but I wasn’t too good on my feet, and I went down. She was on me before I could get back up. She aimed the gun at me and told me she was sorry, she wished she didn’t have to do this, but I should have been a better husband to Clare, and she didn’t have a choice, she was only following orders. They made her do this. Blah, blah, blah. Not th
at I really gave a shit. I just didn’t want to die.”

  “She said ‘they.’ That implies more than one person,” Olivia said.

  “Yeah, right. I wasn’t worrying too much about that at the time. If I had to consider additional parties involved, I’d assume it was you. Clare doesn’t do anything without your backing.”

  That stung, but Olivia wasn’t about to get sidetracked. “How’d you get away?”

  “She was having a hard time pulling the trigger. She got real close. Too close. I kicked her in the ankle. Got some real weight behind it, y’know? I scrambled away, but she shot me.”

  “Where?”

  Nick rolled up his right sleeve. The bullet had left a blunt-looking three-inch slash that distorted the natural line of his triceps on the side of his arm. “It was just a flesh wound, but it hurt like a bitch. I went down when she hit me, and I hid. She searched for me, but eventually gave up. She was in tears when she wandered off.”

  “Didn’t you think it was weird that the person sent to kill you was an amateur?” Andrew asked.

  But that’s what Infidelity Limited thrives on, Olivia thought. She didn’t have to imagine too hard to understand the turmoil this woman had gone through by the time she’d reached the point of aiming a gun at Nick.

  “Who said she was an amateur?” Nick asked. “Less than a month later, I saw that she was arrested for killing her husband.”

  “Bullshit,” Andrew said.

  “I shit you not. She went down for it.”

  And so ended the cycle of doom, Infidelity Limited–style. The ugly future facing Olivia turned her stomach. “Do you remember her name?”

  “Of course I do. You don’t forget the bitch who put a gun in your face. Her name is Karen Innes. Look it up.”

  Nick’s excitement left him suddenly. “As much as I wanted to shove that gun up her ass at the time, I’d thank her now. I sorted out my shit after that night. I started over, and now I’m in a good place. I have a wife I care about and a job I’m proud of.”

  “That was something you could have had with Clare.”

  Nick dropped the smile he’d had. “No, I couldn’t have. We brought out the worst in each other. As dumb as it sounds, I owe Karen and Clare for my fresh start.”