Blind Retribution

by K. T. Roberts

  Not five minutes later, Beth walked back into the office. “My boss is really . . .”

  Max held her hand up in a stop gesture and called out to the patrolman. “For chrissake, Dietz, do your job!”

  The girl froze in her tracks like a frightened child being reprimanded but didn’t fail to send Max a contentious glare. “What form of transportation do you use to travel back and forth to work?” Max asked the secretary. Dietz appeared, seemingly ready to defend himself, but waited for the secretary to respond to Max’s question.

  “Subway. Why?”

  Max turned to the officer. “How long have you been on this job, Dietz?”

  “Two months, ma’am.”

  “Either escort Ms. Carson home or to the subway.”

  “But I have to answer phones,” Beth protested.

  “Not today you don’t.”

  “But Senator Stansbury is going to be mad, maybe even fire me.”

  “Then I suggest you forward the senator’s phone to a different department.” Max turned to Dietz. “Officer?” He nodded and took the young woman by the arm and led her out of the room. When Max heard the front door close, she released a sigh of relief. “Have a nice day, Ms. Carson.”

  Max blew out an exhausted breath, and walked back into the senator’s office. “Have you found anything yet, Riley?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “I think we need to check on the top of those shelves. Do we have a ladder?” she asked one of the officers helping. “I want every inch checked . . .”

  Cory noticed Barrett’s left signal flash just before he pulled into a driveway on Willow Lane in Englewood, New Jersey. “Pretty clever, Barrett,” Cory said, rushing to park his vehicle so he could take photographs of Jeffrey Barrett pulling up to a two-car garage door. Only one door lifted, as he impatiently inched his car forward into the garage. The clunk and whine of the door reversed and closed just as his taillights blinked off. Cory strained to see if another car was parked in the garage, but the doors shut so quickly, he couldn’t tell.

  A smile creased Cory’s face when he watched Barrett emerge from the side door of the garage, carrying a bouquet of flowers, and walk up the few brick steps to the entrance and insert a key. Barrett walked inside and shut the door. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Cory said with smugness.

  No matter how much he wanted the doctor to be responsible for his wife’s death, Cory knew he had to keep in mind that Barrett might be house sitting. Cory didn’t think the doctor was the type to extend himself in such matters, unless he was using the opportunity to shack up with the senator, and the flowers were certainly a hint Cory might not be far off in his thinking. Regardless, he wrote down the address of the home in order to inquire who the owner might be at the county clerk’s office.

  The house, an old Cape Cod with weathered clapboard walls and a fieldstone chimney, was a picture-perfect postcard image. Centrally placed on a large lot with medium-sized trees, it had a canopy that buffered the front windows and offered the residents privacy and shade in the summer. A mature winding path around the side of the residence led to the backyard, and from what he could see, it was mostly bare now, except for a scattering of deciduous plants with a lone leaf hanging on for dear life.

  A half hour later, with no visible movement from within the house, Cory wondered what Barrett was doing. Cory had been warned by his friends that stakeouts were not only boring but could turn out to be a waste of time. Either way, he was going to wait it out, praying something would happen sooner or later. Thankfully, he’d brought his tablet to fill the idle time.

  Noting there were barely any cars driving down this quiet street, he understood why Barrett had chosen this house. It was good place for a hideaway. Not so good for a bored investigator, though. Because it was still daylight, it was difficult to see inside the residence to figure out the rooms, but Cory assumed the lamp centered inside the picture window had to be the living room. Reaching for his camera, he aimed the lens toward the front window and focused it until he had perfect clarity and could be ready at a moment’s notice if Barrett walked out of the residence. In the meantime, he reached for his tablet and played a game, glancing up every once in a while.

  At four-thirty, the front door finally opened, and Barrett was the first to exit, the senator right behind, holding her daughter’s hand.

  “How about that?” Cory said aloud. “The mama bear, the papa bear, and the baby bear. Now isn’t that special.” He happily aimed his camera, taking several shots, excited he had more proof to show Max.

  “Boy, that was a lucky find,” Max remarked to Cory over the phone while viewing the photographs of the trio he’d sent her. “Barrett’s got himself a ready-made family. What bothers me is why kill his wife? Why not just divorce her?” She held the phone out for Riley to see while he drove back to the precinct.

  “Riley’s just shaking his head,” Max told Cory. “As for our search, not many finds at the office, but our investigators did find photographs in her Litchfield County home, confirming the affair too. And now we have proof for a motive.”

  “I’m happy to hear you say that, Max,” Cory said, “and I know it’s a matter of proving it beyond a reasonable doubt, but I have no reservations that you will.”

  “Now, all we need to find out is the owner of record. Will you take care of that for us?”

  “Sure. If you have any clout in the Bergen County Clerk’s Office, after hours, it would save me a trip back? They closed at four o’clock. I called a few minutes ago, but no one answered. I could come back tomorrow, but I figured since it’s so near their closing time, I was thinking maybe someone might still be in the office. What do you think?”

  “Let me talk to the lieutenant. I’m sure we can do something. Hold tight a minute.” Max hung up from Cory and called Wallace. Within minutes, Max called Cory back. “One of the employee’s is still at the clerk’s office, and she’s waiting for you.”

  “Fantastic!” he said. “I’m on my way. Thanks, Max. And what about Barrett—you said his financials looked okay?”

  “Yeah, Barrett’s did look okay at the time we reviewed them—no red flags, but we’ll go over both of their accounts again. People this smart have all kinds of ways to hide money.”

  “Did you find the ledger for her campaign funds yet?” he asked.

  “Not yet, but we will. If there’s any wrongdoing, our forensic accountants will find it right away,” Max said.

  “Do you ever wonder how these people sleep at night?”

  “All the time,” Max said. “Okay, we’re heading over to the senator’s house. Let me know what you find out about the owner. Thanks for doing such a good job today.”

  “I didn’t do it for kudos, I did it to free an innocent man.”

  “I know that. We’ll talk soon.”

  “Did you find an accounting ledger anywhere in the house, Fisher?” Max asked the lead investigator the minute she walked into the senator’s residence a short time later.

  “No, ma’am, but Alex Camarino found a safe onboard the senator’s yacht, but this warrant doesn’t cover the safe.”

  “No shit!” She turned to Riley. “She has a safe on the yacht?” She chuckled. “But seriously, who the hell installs a safe on a yacht?”

  Fisher seemed amused by Max’s reaction to hearing about the safe onboard. “Rich people do, I guess,” he said, the corners of his mouth quirking to the side. “Solving this one, Max, is going to get your name in lights.”

  “You think so, huh?” She released a low laugh. “Well, I don’t need the notoriety, but solving this case would put a feather in my cap.”

  “That it will.” Fisher turned to talk to one of the investigators, and Max continued to walk through the rooms. She then made her way over to the evidence and surveyed the items collected.

  “Maybe Wallace can have someone get the warrant.” She keyed in his number. “Hey, Lieutenant, I need another favor. A warrant for the safe we found on the se
nator’s yacht.”

  “No kidding. Okay, I’ll get it, but I want to see you and Riley in here to pick it up. We have a matter to discuss,” he said before disconnecting abruptly.

  “What’s wrong, Max?” Riley asked.

  “Wallace is pissed about something. He wants us to go to the precinct to pick up the warrant.”

  “Did we do something?”

  “I have no clue, my friend, none whatsoever. I guess we go and face the music.”

  The minute Max and Riley entered the precinct, Lieutenant Wallace’s voice boomed out their names. “Turner and Riley, in my office, now!”

  “Uh oh,” Riley said, “this sounds serious.”

  They did a quarter turn and walked into the room. Wallace stood erect with his arms crossed, arched brows above the unyielding expression on his face.

  “What the hell is going on?” he asked. “I have all kinds of government officials on my ass.” The muscles tightened in his jaws.

  “Sounds like the senator complained about us doing a search.”

  “Well, she wasn’t happy about it, but she was fuming mad that you roughed up her secretary.”

  “What?” Max screeched. “For chrissake, I did no such thing.” Wallace didn’t look convinced. Max extended her arm, pointing to Riley. “Ask my partner if you don’t believe me.” “That twenty-something broad was ticked off because I wouldn’t let her stay to answer the phones. I asked her to leave several times and she refused. She was afraid the senator would fire her if she left for the day.”

  “She’s just covering her ass,” Riley said.

  Wallace gestured for them to sit down. “Tell me what happened with the young woman.”

  Max gave him a rundown about what transpired, and Riley confirmed the story. “And if you’re thinking Riley’s covering for me, then please ask Officer Dietz. He’ll tell you the same thing.” Max bit on her lower lip to stop herself from flying off the handle. “Look, I’m sorry the senator thinks we were invading her privacy. And she should be, because we found plenty. So if she’s mad, oh well. She’s getting nervous with us narrowing in on this case, so she’s decided to make a stink, but as we all know, it’s the people who complain the loudest who usually have the most to hide. Check out this photograph,” she said, handing Wallace her phone.

  “Well, how about that,” he said in a calmer voice. “Is this the picture from the PI you told me about?”

  “Yeah, he’s the one trying to free Hughes, and he tailed Barrett today, who’s on vacation. He sent me this picture of the Three Bears exiting this house in New Jersey. They can no longer deny their relationship. Finding out why they kept it a secret is the trick. There are way too many unanswered questions cropping up that are too intriguing to pass off as nothing. It’s beginning to look like the case I originally thought was going to be easy is a lot more complicated.”

  “What exactly are you thinking?”

  “That Barrett and the senator conspired to kill the wife, and there’s something fishy about the senator’s daughter getting the heart transplant. We’ll also be checking the records of her campaign funds to look for any discrepancies there. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”

  “Okay, stay on them,” Wallace said. “Do you have a team over at Barrett’s residence?”

  “Yes, sir. The investigators are at Stansbury’s and Barrett’s residences, emptying the contents of those safes as we speak. Riley and I are headed over to the Barrett residence right now.” She turned, and stopped short. “Were you able to get us a warrant?”

  “I did.” He handed it over to her. “The judge said no more special favors for tonight, he’s going out.” Wallace’s palm rose. “Where did you say you were headed?”

  “Over to the Barrett’s’ residence.”

  “Okay, Give me the warrant back. I’ll have Sanchez deliver it to the team over there so we can get all the evidence in house.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate your help.” As she was walking away, Wallace stopped her again.

  “How about the love nest? Did you find out who the owner is?” he asked.

  “I haven’t heard back from Cory yet. Thank you for helping out, and I’m sorry you had to take grief from the senator.”

  “I have broad shoulders.” Wallace returned to the open file on his desk.

  “Does this mean we’re off the hook?” Riley asked Max on the way out.

  “You, my friend, were never on the hook. I was the one on the hook . . . in the cold meat locker.”

  Maddie Thomas, the Barretts’ maid, rushed to Max’s car as soon as she stopped in front of the house.

  “Detective Max,” she cried out, “why you doing this to Dr. Jeffrey?”

  “Just doing our job, Maddie.”

  “But he’s a good man.”

  “I’m sure he is, but even good men do bad things. Tell me, have you ever seen him with another woman?”

  A “No” cannonballed from her mouth.

  “You answered too quickly, Maddie. Talk to me. Tell me what you know.”

  “I already told you everything I know. Besides, Dr. Jeffrey is a single man now.”

  “Right. So you have seen him with someone.” Max found the picture on her phone and showed it to her. “Have you ever seen him with this beautiful woman and her child?”

  “Please, no trouble.”

  “No one is trying to get you into trouble, Maddie. Don’t you want to know who killed Mrs. Barrett?”

  “Yes, I do,” she cried out.

  “So have you seen this woman with Dr. Barrett?”

  “Once, a long time ago.”

  “Before Mrs. Barrett died?”

  “Yes, once. Maybe two or three years ago.”

  “Thanks for your honesty, Maddie. You’ve been very helpful.” Maddie began heading back to the house. “Oh, I’m sorry, Maddie, you can’t go into the main residence while the team is investigating. They’ll be searching your house next.”

  “But why? I have nothing to do with Mrs. Barrett’s death.”

  “I know that. It’s just a formality. Do you have some place to go until we’ve finished?”

  Maddie’s expression changed to one of annoyance, but she cooperated. “I go see my sister. She works for the Ridgeway family.”

  “Okay, we’ll drive you over there.” Max got the attention of one of the patrolmen. “Please transport Mrs. Thomas over to the Ridgeway residence. She’ll tell you where to go.”

  She watched the woman get into the backseat of the car. “Thank you, Maddie.” She simply nodded in silence. With the maid out of the way, Max entered the residence. When Jerome Bevans, the lead investigator, saw Max walking toward him, he gestured for her to join him.

  “What did you find?”

  “I thought you’d want to know that I just tagged a checkbook under the name of Souley Regains. Unless Barrett’s holding this for a friend, it looks like he’s using the fictitious name.”

  “Nothing would surprise me with this case. Thanks for the heads-up.” She turned to walk away, then stopped. “How about passports? Did you find any of those?”

  “One for the wife and the husband, but it doesn’t look like there were any others,” he said, sliding his finger down the list of items.

  “Thanks. Talk later, Bevans.” Then she turned to the door and called for Riley.

  “What’s up, Max? You’re smiling,” Riley asked when they walked outside. Max got into the driver’s seat and started the engine, pulled the gear into place, and drove out of the driveway.

  “Yep, Riley, this plot is getting fatter. I can’t wait to check the evidence to unravel this puzzle. Bevans found a checkbook, and it didn’t have either of the Barretts’ names on it.” Riley’s eyes widened with surprise. When her phone rang, she looked at him. “Will you get that for me?”

  “Detective Turner’s line. Can I help you?” Riley smiled and turned to her. “It’s Cory with some good news.”

  “Put him on speaker so we can both hear it at the sam
e time.” Riley punched the icon. “Okay, Cory. Give us some good news.”

  “The house is owned by a Madeline Thomas.”

  “Hmm,” Max said, a puzzled expression on her face, “Madeline Thomas, Madeline Thomas. Why does that name sound familiar?”

  “Isn’t Thomas the maid’s last name?” Riley asked.

  Max gasped, “For chrissake.” She smacked her leg. “Maddie is short for Madeline.” Max pulled over to the side of the road. “Hang on for a minute, Cory. I want to turn around and go back to talk to Maddie to see what she has to say.” Max turned the car around and drove back past the residence toward the Ridgeways’ mansion while Riley keyed the name into the database for the address. “Okay, you can keep talking.” Riley gave her directions by using his finger to point out the turns toward the mansion while she continued her conversation with Cory.

  “It’s a beautiful home in a pretty high-class neighborhood for someone on a maid’s salary,” Cory said. “Do you think she knows about this house?”

  “Anything is possible, I suppose, but I’d be surprised if she did. And since you’re giving us such good news, here’s some for you. Our team found a safe on the yacht.”

  “No way!” Cory’s voice rose a few decibels, breaking into laughter. “I’m certain they never expected you to search the yacht. You’re brilliant, you know that?”

  “Yeah. If only that were true. Now, here’s another weird thing. They found a checkbook under an assumed name.” Hearing Cory’s voice for the third time today made Max happy. “Are you headed back to the city?”

  “Yes, I am. Where are you headed?” he asked.

  “We’re headed back to the precinct after I make one last stop to see Maddie, then we’ll start examining this evidence tomorrow.”

  “Are you going to ask her if she knows about the house?” he asked.

  “In a roundabout way. Okay, thanks. We’ll chat later.”

  Max pulled into the driveway, stopped at the gate, and pushed the black button on the call box. A security guard answered.

  “Hi, I’m Detective Max Turner from the NYPD. And I’m here to see Mrs. Thomas, who was dropped off about ten minutes ago. May I see her, please?”