“I see that. It’s still impressive.”
“Do you want to play?”
“Oh, no,” Ruby said, laughing. “Once I start, I won’t want to stop. And we have work to do.”
“That we do.” John set the stack of files on his desk. Ruby took a moment to run her gaze over the rest of his office. The pinball machine was the one expression of his character other than fishing regalia, trophies, and taxidermy-preserved whoppers. The bookshelf behind his desk was bereft of dust. Was that because he spent a lot of time reading, or because he was especially fastidious? Ruby couldn’t be sure.
“What is all that?” She settled into the chair and scooted forward to peer intently as he opened the first one.
“This is everything I could find on Trevor Whitley and Roger Abernathy. I thought we could go over it and look for connections between them.”
“Oh, so you invited me here to help with paperwork?” Ruby allowed a teasing lilt to enter her voice. “You take me the most interesting places, Chief Miller.”
John cocked an eyebrow at her as he settled behind the stack of files on the opposite side of the desk. “You’re also here for your own protection. So long as you’re here, Whitley won’t make another try for you.”
“Oh, I think he’s learned his lesson on that one, but it’s nice that you’re looking out for me, Chief.”
“Just doing my job,” John said, clearing his throat and returning to work with an awkwardly intense studiousness.
Ruby pored over the documents with John. They fell into a rhythm, passing files back and forth between them. Together, they worked through the stack. Three hours and two cups of coffee later, Ruby sat on the edge of John’s desk, thumbing through a file they'd already gone over several times before.
“There must be something we’re missing,” she griped.
“I don’t see how.” John leaned back in his chair and stretched, drawing his uniform shirt taut against his rippling physique. Ruby remembered to stop staring just before he dropped his gaze back to her. “We’ve gone over everything at least twice.”
Ruby sighed, drumming her fingers on the desk as she considered the pile. “We’re coming at this from the wrong angle…hey, didn’t you say Whitley’s bail was set at one million?”
“Yeah, considering his prior record and flight risk.”
“Yes, but Whitley’s music career is a joke. The guy lists his address as the same as his mother’s. She sure didn’t post one-hundred-thousand dollars to the bail bondsman.”
“Good point.” John stood up and headed out to the front desk. “Robert? Can you get Jimmy Hacker on the phone? Tell him I need to know how Whitley’s mother paid for his bail.”
Robert bent himself to the task while Ruby poured herself another cup of coffee. She began to worry about her cats at home. If she weren’t there to serve their gourmet, five-star canned repast at six o’clock sharp there would be the Devil to pay.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. I just need to get home to my cats soon.”
“Well, this won’t take long. Hacker and me go way back.”
“I remember you guys smoking dope behind the gym—”
John’s eyes bulged. “How’d you hear about that?”
“I used to straddle the fence between disaffected loner and popular kid, remember?” Ruby chuckled. “No worries. I don’t judge.”
John’s eyes shifted into a sea green spectrum. Ruby reminded herself to cast a divination spell to find out what he shifted into. Now she was thinking a shark, but that still didn’t seem right. Sharks were solo hunters. John clearly worked well with groups in a leadership role. Some kind of simian? Like a silverback gorilla? The speculation was driving her mad in a fun way.
Which was probably why she hadn’t come out and asked. John’s eyes lost their far-away look, and his face grew somber.
“You know, this is going to sound weird, but I think I need to say it anyway. Back in high school—"
“Chief?” Sgt. Robert said, holding the landline phone’s receiver toward John. “Hacker’s on the line for you.”
“Wait, what were you going to ask…?” Ruby sighed as John turned to take the phone call.
“Hey, Hacker, how’s it hanging? Of course, I’m taking the Pats in the pool. I’m obligated, that’s why. Listen, did you get that info for me?”
John snapped his fingers and then waggled them frantically toward Robert. The Sgt. rolled over to a nearby desk and purloined paper and pen. Then he rolled back toward John, arm extended like a parody of Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam.
“Uh huh…no, I got a pen, go ahead.”
John wrote down the credit card information, and then circled it with two quick whorls of the pen. “Thanks, Hacker. See you at the lanes this Friday.”
The lanes? Does he like bowling? I love bowling…
“What were you about to say?” Ruby asked.
“What?” John looked from her, to Sgt. Robert, then back to Ruby again. “Ah…I’ll tell you later. Sgt. Aspirin, please run a check on who this credit card is registered to.”
“You got it, Chief.”
They huddled behind Robert’s desk, which clearly unsettled him a bit. Nevertheless, he soon came back with a hit. “The card is registered to a not-for-profit organization, the Committee to Rebuild American Patriotism. They have a charity arm that helps cover bail bond costs—for legal US citizens only, of course.”
“Committee to Rebuild American Patriotism?” Ruby scowled. “Sounds like a lot of C.R.A.P. to me. That name sounds familiar…John, let me see the sheets on Abernathy’s dealings with that Morocco resort that went under, please?”
It took more digging, but eventually Ruby discovered that Roger’s construction company, International Luxury Builders, owned a controlling share in a smaller company involved in manufacturing aiglets. That company had a controlling share in a corporation centered around offering express delivery of auto parts to upscale dealer garages. The parts delivery franchise had founded the Committee to Rebuild American Patriotism several years earlier.
“How much do you want to bet that CRAP has been bailing out people connected to Roger Abernathy all along?” John cocked an eyebrow.
“I’m not a gambling type of woman, John, but I wouldn’t bet against it. She tapped the paper in his hands, moving in close enough to feel his warmth. “That name, the CEO of Speedy’s Parts Delivery, is Troy Malone.”
“Malone? That name sounds familiar.”
“It should. Roger and Malone used to be best friends.” She lifted her gaze to meet his own. “Looks like we have another suspect to consider.”
John nodded. “People seldom kill people they don’t know.”
Ruby stared at the paper in his hands. Troy Malone…what was the saying?
Dig up the past, and all you get is dirty.
Seventeen
Ruby blinked sweat out of her eyes as she tracked the darting silver ball beneath the glass. The quicksilver blur smashed through a spinner depicting a masked burglar and then sped up a curving ramp. She saw the ball would divert down the left path, which held a joker card, rather than the right, with a King.
She smacked her pelvis into the machine, creating just enough bump to divert the ball through the King slot without tilting. John shook his head as the scoreboard racked up another free ball for Ruby.
“Are you sure you’re not using magic?”
“You calling me a liar, Chief?” she said as the ball came streaking back down toward the paddles. “It’s all in the hips.”
She bumped the machine again, altering the ball’s trajectory just enough she could smack it with the flipper. The ball careened into a hole on the playfield marked ‘Nitro.’ Her points shot up along with an engine revving sound before the ball was popped back into play.
“I think I’ve been hustled,” John said as Ruby expertly caught the ball in the crook of her crooked flipper.
“Oh, big strong man like you can handle i
t, right?” Ruby let go of the button, allowing the ball to roll down the now angled flipper. When it was an inch from the end she smacked the button, sending the ball to careen madly between the bumpers. Her score racked up to the point she earned another free play.
“Okay, enough,” John said with a helpless laugh. “You’ve already demolished my high score. When the info comes back on Troy Malone, you can look over it with me.”
Ruby pivoted on her heel, keeping one hand on the right-side flipper button. She used her free hand to jab a finger at John. “That wasn’t the bet, and you know it!”
She continued to play without looking at the machine. John shook his head. “Now I know you’re cheating.”
“Not hardly.” Ruby deliberately let the ball disappear down the drain and moved away from the machine. She crossed her arms over her chest and fixed him with a hard stare. “The bet was I got to tag along when you question Malone.”
“Okay, you got me there.” John made a helpless gesture in the air. “But you cheated, so it wasn’t a fair bet.”
“John, it was funny at first, but I didn’t cheat and your insistence that I did is growing annoying, alright? Either welch on your bet or pay up like a man.”
John closed his mouth, opened it, and then laughed. “Alright, then. Fair enough.”
Ruby relaxed a tension in her belly she hadn’t known was there. She’d set a boundary and John had respected it, without the usual moping and bruised egos most men displayed. In a way he’d passed a test, and perhaps she had as well.
“So which is it? Are you a welcher? Do I need to transmute your uniform to a giant jar of jelly costume?”
“Jar of Jelly?”
“Because you’re a Welcher,” Ruby said with a wink and a snicker.
“I’m not going to welch. First let’s look over what turned up on Malone and see if we have probable cause.”
“He works for—that is, worked for Roger.”
“So did a lot of people. Are we going to interview them all?” John shook his head. “We’ll take a look at what the FBI background check can give us.”
They returned to his desk and checked the email. John grunted with excitement as he noticed a new message from Quantico. “Well, well, well, Mr. Malone. Let’s see if you’re as shifty as your boss Abernathy.”
“You’re enjoying this,” Ruby said, cocking an eyebrow.
“Aren’t you?” John asked with a sly grin. Ruby smiled back, feeling a little flutter in her belly. Instead of sitting across from him, she’d dragged her chair over so they both sat on the same side. The idea had been so she could see the computer screen, but it also put them close enough their knees were nearly touching.
“I guess I am, actually.” Ruby chuckled. “I’m getting the sleuthing itch in my old age.”
“You’re hardly old,” John replied, shooting her a smile. His gaze returned to the screen and narrowed as he scrolled through the files. “There’s a lot here. Most of it doesn’t look useful, though.”
“This is interesting,” Ruby said, tapping the screen.
“What is?”
“He’s never been late for a mortgage payment, let alone defaulted.”
“So?”
Ruby looked at him and made a playfully annoyed grimace. “So? So, three quarters of the town went upside down on their mortgages during the 08 crash. You don’t think it’s odd that he weathered the storm so well with such shaky holdings?”
John considered her for a long moment, thick fingers stroking his chin. “You’re thinking that Malone was into something shady with Abernathy? A way of generating income beyond their above-board assets?”
“I’m saying they might have been doing something criminal.”
“So was I.”
“Oh. Well, so?”
“So?”
“Yeah, SO,” she said, jabbing him in the belly with her pointed nail. “So, so, so, I don’t speak cop gibberish!”
John laughed, attempting to fend her off without actually grabbing her wrist. He largely failed.
“Hey,” he said once they’d calmed down. “Check this out.”
“What is it?” Ruby felt a warmth and exhaustion in her ribcage. How long had it been since she’d laughed like that? She became increasingly aware of John’s presence as a man, and wasn't sure how she felt about that.
“Abernathy has made several large deposits in one of Malone’s accounts.”
“How large?”
“Six figures. The last one was for a quarter million.”
Ruby whistled. “That’s a lot of money.”
“Yeah…especially considering Malone’s been making deposits ten to fifteen percent higher back into Abernathy’s account.”
He looked at her. “You realize what this means?”
“That we have a connection between our victim and our suspect? And a direct one at that?”
* * *
“Yes, that and we now have a suspect.” John gestured at the screen. “This looks to me like masked insider trading, or maybe money laundering. Roger deposited a certain amount into Malone’s account. Malone then used that money to invest in something illegal like smuggling or what have you, then paid Roger back with interest.”
“That would explain why neither of them suffered during the recession.”
“It also explains Malone’s motive. That’s a heck of a lot of cash to be moving around. What if, say, Malone got greedy? Or one of his investments didn’t pay off like he’d hoped it would?”
“Then he might kill Roger just to protect himself. But how does Busta Kapp play into all of this?”
John pursed his lips as he considered the screen. “I don’t know, but we’ve got more than enough probable cause to pay him a visit.”
“Um…” Ruby swallowed, then laughed nervously. “Ah, there’s something you should probably know.”
“What’s that?”
“I mean, it might compromise the investigation,” Ruby stammered.
“Ruby, just tell me already.”
“Troy and I, um…we have a sort of history.”
“You slept with him at Tammy Baker’s Halloween rager.”
“What?” Ruby blinked in surprise. “That’s…how did you know that?”
John seemed embarrassed, unable to meet her gaze. “Well, I’m afraid Malone’s always had a big mouth…”
Ruby rolled her eyes. “Oh my God. So, naturally he blabbed it to everyone once the wedding was off. I could wring his neck.”
“Try not to do that until we get a chance to talk to him,” John said, standing up and retrieving his firearm. “Unless you happen to be a necromancer.”
“What?” Ruby stared at him for a long moment before she realized the unlikely truth. “Are you making a joke?”
John chuckled and grabbed his hat. “Come on. I’ll drive.”
“You are full of surprises, Chief Miller.” Ruby grinned as she fell into step behind him. “Let’s hope they’re mostly pleasant ones.
Eighteen
John gave Ruby a ride home so she could attend to her cats. Rumpus and Rufus peppered her with questions the entire time. Some of them were even related to the case.
“It sounds like your ex-Fiancé was an even bigger cad than we’d ever thought.”
“It’s definitely shady behavior, and enough to give us probable cause to hit up Malone for an interview.”
“Us?” Rumpus’ gaze narrowed. “When did you and Chief John become an ‘us,’ exactly?”
“You know what I mean,” Ruby said, her cheeks flushing red. “Anyway, John is swinging back by here in an hour and we’re going to hit up Malone for a statement.”
“We’re going, too, right?” Rufus asked.
“Um, I don’t know about that…”
“Are you kidding me? Look at what almost happened to Blair in New York when she was separated from her familiar? You need us.”
“Blair! Oh no, I was supposed to meet up with her about the exorcism.” Ruby extracted her c
ell phone from her purse. “Maybe we can reschedule for later.”
While Ruby typed in her text, her cats continued to cajole her.
“We’ll stay in the car when you talk to Malone, we won’t cause any trouble,” Rufus said hopefully.
The cats rubbed against her legs, purring like mad and looking up at her with big, soft eyes. Ruby felt her resolve crumble like a sandcastle under a bowling ball.
“Oh, alright. But you’ll have to stay in the car.”
“We’ll be good, I swear,” Rufus said.
Ruby glared down at the plumper Rumpus. “You’re not the one I’m worried about.”
It turned out Blair was fine with postponing the exorcism until later. She’d hit up on a chance to interview the last living descendent of Fiddler Cove’s founder. Blair had finagled an invitation to the curmudgeon’s house for dinner.
“See? It all worked out.” Rufus peered down the peninsula, toward the downtown area of Fiddler Cove. The sun had just vanished behind the horizon, and the lights were winking on the town, one by one. Ruby took a moment to bask in the cozy glow of those lights, ones she’d thought to never see again.
“Penny for your thoughts, Ruby.” Rumpus stuck his head out of the carrier, ears radared forward.
“I’m just reminiscing, Rumpus. I’ve been so busy since I got back to the Cove, I haven’t had a chance to just catch my breath and look around. Everywhere I look, there’s a memory. Some good, some bad. But the memories exist in either case, regardless. It’s all just kind of…heavy.”
“Do you want to go back to New York?”
“Yes.” Ruby shook her head. “No. I—I don’t know. Is that okay? Is it okay that I don’t know yet?”
“It’s fine with me,” Rumpus said, licking his paw. “The seafood here is better quality and tends to be fresher, though.”
“And Chief John is here, in Fiddler Cove,” Rufus said.
“Oh, stop,” Ruby said. “Honestly. You two have never been so pushy about any other guys I’ve brought home.”
“Well, we didn’t like any of them,” Rumpus said.
You've Got To Be Kitten: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Cozy Mystery Page 10
