The security guard tackled him, and the crowd surged forward, everyone shouting at the same time.
“Oh my—” His mother stared at the TV in shock.
Casey’s gut twisted as the congressman’s men hustled Tony Salvatori from view. He put down the beer, suddenly losing his appetite. “I need to go.”
“You’re investigating that case, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“Well. Then I’m glad that man punched him. I would have done the same.”
“You realize he just called me corrupt on national TV?”
“The only thing anyone’s going to remember about that interview is that a US congressman was publicly accused of sleeping with that man’s dead wife.” She reached over and patted Casey’s hand. “Makes me glad I didn’t vote for him.”
THIRTY-NINE
When Casey walked into Homicide the next morning, Al, Haynes, and Zwingler were standing in front of the television, their attention glued to the news, where they were replaying the clip of Parnell accusing Casey of being corrupt.
Al saw him. “You see this?”
“Don’t remind me. I just want to fade into obscurity and have this week be over. This month, even.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Did you miss the part where he accused me of being corrupt? On TV?”
“Trust me. The only thing anyone is talking about right now is that accusation that Tony Salvatori made about Parnell sleeping with his wife. They pretty much cut out most of that earlier speech, going right to the coldcocking of the congressman, while the newscaster is narrating that Trudy Salvatori was murdered.”
“Got him good,” Zwingler said, turning off the television. “After a show like that, there is no way this guy can run for reelection.”
Al walked over to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup. “You ready for that interview?”
“I don’t know if I’m going to do it.”
“Of course you are. You put too much time into it. And like Zwingler said, you’re a superstar.”
“So you think Marcie’s good for it?” Casey asked. “The murder? Because I’m not seeing it.”
“We know a man and a woman were heard talking on the phone with information that ties them into the murder—one or both probably hired Fife. The only women we have left—and with motive to kill Trudy—are Marcie and the real estate agent.”
“What if the real estate agent faked that security video?”
“Maybe she did. But I also checked with the airport. She’d have to do some serious driving to get to that plane in so short a time. Not impossible, but definitely difficult.”
Haynes glanced over at Al. “What about Parnell’s wife? I think she’d have some motive.”
Al and Casey both turned toward him, Al saying, “We have her in our sights. But if we can identify the male voice, we can probably figure out who the woman was.” He looked up at the clock. “What time’s your interview?”
“Five,” Casey said.
It seemed everyone cringed at the response. Al gave him a sympathetic slap to the shoulder. “Tough luck, kid.”
The last interview of the day was not an enviable position. Quite simply it was difficult to concentrate on anything when all one could think about was the upcoming promotional board. “That at least leaves me time to look into some of those leads.”
“Negative, College Boy. The only place you’re going to be working is at that desk.”
“We’re talking nine hours from now. I’ll go crazy if I have to sit here that long.”
“And you’d go crazier if you got stuck out there on some call, or worse yet, in traffic.”
“Besides,” Zwingler said. “We have a vested interest in making sure you pass. There’s enough bad lieutenants out there.”
“He’s right,” Al said. “So use the time to catch up on reports. We’ll let you break for lunch.”
“Awful big of you. Except Marcie’s supposed to come in this morning.”
“Reschedule,” Zwingler said. “What if she dives over the table and tries to strangle you or something? We can’t have you hurt before the big interview.”
“I think I’ll be okay. But thanks for your concern.”
Although they expected Marcie to show up with her attorney, she showed up alone. The first question out of her mouth was, “Does my husband know about this?”
“We haven’t told him,” Casey said. “Why? What do you think he’d say?”
“That I need my attorney. Should I call him?”
Although Casey wasn’t sure if she meant her husband or their attorney, he had to be careful about how he answered. “That’s your decision.”
She seemed to think about it then nodded. “What do you want to know?”
Casey opened his folder, took out her ID card, which was now in a clear plastic evidence bag, and placed it on the table in front of her. “Is this yours?”
She looked at it, nodding.
“Where’s the last place you had it?”
“In my purse.”
“You have no idea where you lost it?”
“I didn’t even know it was gone.”
“Why would Trudy have it?”
“Trudy?” She looked up at Casey, then at Al. “I told you both. Things keep turning up missing. Little things. My keys. Now this. How should I know? Maybe she took it.”
Casey replaced it inside his portfolio. “Have you ever been to the campaign office where Trudy worked?”
“Once. A while back.”
“Did anyone ever give you any checks written from Parnell’s campaign accounts?”
“No. Why?”
Al smiled at her. “We’re just trying to re-create Trudy’s last days,” he said. “And clear up some inconsistencies.”
“What inconsistencies?” she asked.
Casey waited a beat, trying to see how she’d react. “We know you lied about leaving before Trudy. You left after her. So who did you call on your phone?”
“I didn’t call anyone.”
“You don’t have another cell phone that you were using? A throwaway phone?”
“What? No. Why—No.”
“Why did you lie about when you left?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Do you recognize these text messages?” Casey asked, sliding the printout from the phone company toward her. “‘She’s leaving.’ You’re talking about Trudy. Aren’t you?”
The color drained from her face. “How did you get these? I erased them.”
“On your phone, yes. But the phone company has them on their server. So let me ask you again. Why did you lie to us about when you left?”
Tears sprang into her eyes. “Fine! I followed her, okay? I thought she was screwing my husband, and so I hired this guy to rough her up, but I changed my mind.”
“Rough her up?”
“Let her know that she needed to leave Devin alone. They were spending all this time together. I just wanted to scare her, not hurt her.”
“And who was it you hired?”
“I don’t know. Someone named Ben Johnson.”
“How much did you pay this guy?”
“A few hundred dollars. A hundred and fifty to take the job, then the same once he confronted her.”
“A few hundred? That’s it?”
“He wasn’t doing very much. Just scaring her. But I lost my nerve and called it off. I—I worried that if Devin found out, he’d leave me. I mean, they were moving, right? Trudy and Tony? All I had to do was wait it out.”
“You called it off?”
“Yes.”
“And how do we get ahold of this Ben Johnson?”
“I don’t know. I found him in this chat room. We did everything online. And then
it was by text. Except the one time we met in person. When I paid him the first installment. But you have the number. Can’t you just get in touch with him from that?”
“Unfortunately he’s not answering it, and there haven’t been any messages since your last one to him.”
“Can you blame him? I’d be scared too. I was scared. After Trudy was killed, I was sure you’d blame me. Even Devin thought so.”
“Devin knew?”
“I couldn’t keep a secret like that from him. Not after I accused him of sleeping with Trudy. But he wasn’t. They were planning a surprise birthday for me. I even called and verified it. A weekend in Napa.”
Al smiled at her. “Did you kill Trudy? Or pay someone to kill her?”
“What? No. Of course not.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I want to go now. Can I go?”
Al opened the door. “We’ll be in touch.”
She walked out, not looking back.
“Why’d you let her leave?” Casey asked.
“Because we don’t have enough to hold her, and we need to find this Ben Johnson person. And to do that, we’re going to need to get a search warrant for her computer. Which means we can show up there tomorrow. You can write up the warrant. That will give you something to occupy your time until your interview this evening. You bring anything to study?”
“I’ve been studying every day. It’s like I dream this stuff.” They continued down the hall toward their office. Casey thought about what his mom said. To ask Al. “You think I should do it?”
“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t you?”
“What if I pass?”
“Isn’t that the object?”
“I was always just taking it for practice.”
Al looked over at him. “You sure about that, College Boy? What about the battle plan?”
“I haven’t been in Homicide all that long.”
“Yeah, but you have to be here for the right reasons. Most of these guys, they’re in it for the long haul. Retiring out after doing their time here. I don’t think anyone expected that of you. We’ve always known you were on your way somewhere.”
“Maybe I won’t be promoted. Parnell filed a complaint on me with OPR.”
“Filed, I’ll bet, when he thought he still had a chance at being reelected. After that debacle last night—”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s there. They’re going to take that into consideration.”
“They’ll investigate and find out it’s not true. Which means they’ll interview that reporter.”
“Who won’t reveal her source.”
“You know what I’d worry about?” Al said, once they reached the office. “Passing that interview. Everything else will work itself out. Trust me.”
Work itself out? Why then, was he doubting everything, including that interview?
FORTY
“Devin?” Marcie said, when her husband finally called home. “I’ve been trying to call you all day. Why didn’t you answer your cell phone?”
“Sorry. Just a lot going on here at work. I must have turned the ringer off.”
“The police questioned me again this morning.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you didn’t answer your phone.”
“What did they ask?”
“About Trudy having my ID. They had it with them.”
“What for?”
“I guess for evidence.”
“Look, Marcie. You shouldn’t be talking to them without our attorney. It’s not safe.”
“If I take an attorney, they’re only going to think I’m guilty. I don’t want that.”
“What you don’t want is to be arrested for murder.”
“That’s ridiculous. They’re not going to find anything.” She glanced up at the clock, saw it was nearly five. “Are you working late again?”
“Sorry. A lot going on. But that’s why I called. I had to take the car to the shop, and I need you to pick me up.”
“Okay.”
“And bring the gun. It’s in the kitchen drawer.”
“Why?”
“You said you thought someone was following you. I want to take you to the range for practice.”
“I’m really not comfortable carrying that thing around.”
“Don’t worry. It’s not loaded. And once we get you through this firearm practice, you’ll be plenty comfortable.”
“I thought you said you had to work late.”
“I’m almost finished. By the time you get here, I should be done. We can go to dinner after. There’s a restaurant nearby we could walk to.”
It had been so long since they’d gone to dinner. Something they used to do all the time. “I’d like that.”
She heard a phone ringing in the background as Devin said, “I have to get that, Marce. Call me when you’re on your way.”
“Okay.”
Her phone beeped when he disconnected.
How was it that her life had come to this? Every sound she heard scared the living daylights out of her. It was almost as if Trudy had come back to haunt her.
Marcie’s gaze caught on the eucalyptus grove out back, and she crossed the room, opened the door, then stood there on the threshold, breathing in the sweet, almost piney scent of the trees that Trudy had wanted to remove. Even Devin had suggested it for a while. After all, if improving the view increased Trudy’s property value, surely it would increase theirs. Which was when Marcie told him that she had no plans to move from her grandfather’s house; therefore, it didn’t matter.
She closed and locked the door against the chill that swept into the room, regretting the past few weeks, wishing she’d not thought so ill of Trudy, and even Devin. Now there was only guilt, and somehow the smell of eucalyptus only intensified that feeling.
Maybe she should sell the place, she thought, putting on her coat, then heading downstairs to the kitchen to get her keys. Start fresh, where there were no reminders of how she’d maligned the memory of her once good friend over this perceived affair.
She thought about the gun. Even Devin had suggested that this stalker of hers was imaginary. Was she losing her mind?
Maybe she was.
Maybe she shouldn’t be carrying around a firearm, loaded or not. But Devin was finally going to take her to the range to practice, and that is what she wanted.
She opened the drawer. The black semiauto was sitting on top of some old bills. What an odd place to keep a gun. Why not in the bedroom, where someone was likely to be attacked? She didn’t want to touch it, but forced herself to take it in her hand, wondering how to even tell if it was loaded or not. Now what was she supposed to do with it? Put it in her purse?
Dish towel, she decided, wrapping it, then carefully picking it up so that her finger was nowhere near the trigger.
At the front door, she punched in the alarm code, then walked out, locking the door behind her.
“Marcie!”
She saw Tony on his porch, holding a white envelope in his hand. He was crying, and the only thought that went through her head right then was that she didn’t have time to deal with his grief.
Not very neighborly to be sure, but dealing with her own personal crises was stressful enough.
“I’m in a hurry,” she said. “I’ll stop by later, okay?”
“You should see this.” He held up the envelope.
She unlocked her car with the key fob and opened the front passenger door, setting the towel-wrapped gun as well as her purse on the front seat. She wondered how rude it would be to dart around to the other side, get behind the wheel, and drive off. Whatever was in that envelope was not something she wanted to see.
But he walked toward her, his grief mixed with anger, and she found her feet glued to the sidewalk, the envelope beckoning. Before she kne
w it, he stood in front of her.
“Look at this,” he said, handing the envelope to her.
The typewritten address on the front belonged to Tony, the space where the return address would be written was blank. A canceled stamp was postmarked with yesterday’s date and showed it was mailed here in the city.
Why she even noticed this, she couldn’t say, except perhaps the look in Tony’s eye, the shaking of his fingers as he’d handed it to her.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Open it.”
She did, pulling out a computer-printed photo of Devin and Trudy kissing. Both were seated at a table with a white tablecloth, a bottle of wine in front of them.
Marcie recognized that restaurant. In Napa. She and Devin had been there twice. The cost of even their house wine was exorbitant.
“Where did this come from?” she asked, turning the picture over. Nothing written on the back.
“Today’s mail.”
So many thoughts crowded her head, first and foremost that she’d been right. They were having an affair.
Her knees felt as though they were giving way, and she leaned against the car. “Did you know about this?” she asked Tony.
He shook his head. “Did you?”
“I suspected. The day she was killed…She came over to our house and was upstairs talking to Devin.”
Tony looked away, wiping his hands across his face. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I’m sorry,” she told him. “When I asked Devin what was going on, he said they were planning a surprise party for my birthday.”
“You believed him?”
Guilt and shame flooded through her. “I—I guess I wanted to believe that they really were planning something for me. It was so much easier…” Her attempt to smile faded when she saw his face, the pain in his eyes, the tears. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. She was leaving me anyway. I just—Why would someone send this now? Just to hurt me?”
And what could she say? That by coming out and showing her, it was like someone sticking a knife in her gut, too? And here she and Devin had been making strides in getting their marriage back on track.
The Last Good Place Page 24
