by John Locke
Sal says, “Tell her about Ben.”
Carter says, “Gray killed your husband.”
“What?”
“Gray heard the cold case guys were about to get involved. He still had the panties and photograph, so he decided to kill Ben and frame him for Jaqui’s murder.”
“How could you possibly know all this?”
Carter shrugs. “I’m the one who planted the evidence in your house.”
I COME OUT of my chair so fast no one can react. But Sal pulls my hands off Carter’s throat before any real damage is inflicted.
“You’re a—whatcha call—spitfire!” he says. “But you need to calm down.”
“I don’t have to calm down! This bitch framed my husband for murder!”
“Be grateful you’re hearing the truth. I came very close to never letting you know these things. Now sit down.”
Sophie moves her chair closer, puts her hand in mine. I take a few deep breaths and say, “What do you mean Gray killed Ben? How?”
“Ricin poison.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Ricin poison is extracted from castor beans. A lethal dose in humans is the size of a single grain of salt. Gray had access to Riverton’s laboratory, and knew what he was doing. When Gray and I went to your house to meet Ben, he put the ricin in Ben’s coffee.”
“When?”
“The day before Gray broke the news to the tabloids.”
“Where was I?”
“How do I know? The gym? Your office? You tell me.”
“Ben lived several days after that.”
“Ricin takes two to four days to kill, depending on how old or healthy you are. The symptoms show up as a flu bug, or severe cold, and keep getting worse until the heart gives out.”
I feel Sophie squeeze my hand. I also feel the tears spill from my eyes.
“What kind of monster are you? How could you do that to Ben?”
“I didn’t know Ben, so I felt no loyalty there. And you pulled a gun on me at the hotel, so I felt no loyalty to you. At the time I didn’t know you erased the photos, so I was simply protecting my investment. I agreed to walk around the house and plant the evidence while Gray and Ben talked.”
“How did you get all those items in our house?”
“I had a large tote bag. Ben never paid any attention to it.”
Sophie says, “Why admit all this now?”
Carter looks at Sal.
Sal says, “Roy poisoned Carter, same way he poisoned Ben.”
Carter says, “I was lucky. He left me for dead in a hotel room, but the maid ignored the Do Not Disturb sign.”
Sal chuckles. “She was determined to put a mint on the pillow.”
I’m in no mood to chuckle. Neither is Sophie. She says, “I hope you suffered. How could you date a man who raped and killed a child?”
Carter shrugs. “I thought there might be money in it.”
“I’ve got a better question,” I say. “How did you get Ben’s fingerprints on that disgusting photograph?”
“I didn’t. The police or FBI did that.”
“That settles it. I’m going on national TV to demand a formal investigation.”
“There’s no evidence,” Sal says.
“We’ve got Carter’s testimony and my alibi for Ben.”
“After today, there’ll be no evidence Carter ever existed.”
Sophie says, “What’s going on here, Uncle Sal?”
“The truth? Gray got whacked.”
“Why?”
“When Carter got poisoned, she contacted me through—whatcha call—intermediaries. I don’t—whatcha call—condone child rape or murder. That can’t go unpunished in my city. When I learned who did this terrible thing, I put the word out, and someone snuffed Halloran.”
“So that’s that?” I say.
“There’s not much point in stirring up old bones.”
“There is if the world thinks your husband’s a child killer.”
“That’s your word against the cops. And they’ve got the evidence.”
“I’ll demand a formal investigation into the search conducted at my house when they found Ben’s body. I’m a private investigator. I’ll make it my life’s mission to clear Ben’s name. Plus, I’ve got the national media on my side. You can bet I’ll find out who planted Ben’s fingerprints on Jaqui’s photograph!”
Sal says, “Let it go, Dani.”
Sophie says, “She’s not going to let it go. And I won’t, either.”
“Aw, shit,” Sal says.
He sighs.
Then says, “Fine. Tell your story to the media. Let them conduct a—whatcha call—internal investigation.”
“You think it won’t work.”
“I know it won’t.”
“Why?”
“The cops will never admit one of theirs planted evidence. Carter’s getting a new face, new identity, and fingerprints. You could bump into her on the street next year, you’ll never recognize her.”
“What are you talking about?”
Sophie says, “The government. Uncle Sal got her a deal. The question is why?” She looks at her uncle. “Let me guess: Homeland Security? Fighting terrorism?”
He ignores her and looks at me. “I don’t blame you for wanting to clear Ben’s name. I like that about you.”
I frown.
“I’m serious. I like you. I’m welcoming you to the family.”
“It’s not like we’re married,” Sophie says.
“But it’s a good family, yes?” Sal says.
“It’s a good family,” Sophie agrees.
To me he says, “You’re angry now. I get that. If I knew you were hiding out with my niece before Gray got whacked, I would’ve helped you clear your husband’s sacred name.”
I deepen my frown.
Sal says, “You’re a spitfire. I like that. I know you’re—whatcha call—annoyed with me at the moment, but I’m a good friend to have.”
He produces a card with a phone number on it. No name, just a phone number. He pushes it across the desk to me.
“Someone bothers you? Call this number, capisci?”
“Thanks, Uncle Sal,” Sophie says, on my behalf.
“Okay, then,” Sal says. He stands. “So we’re all on the same page about this?”
“Not really,” I say.
“Why not?”
“I can’t believe you’re going to let this happen! Carter admitted her involvement, but you’re going to let her walk? She could probably get immunity for her testimony.”
Sal says, “Two problems with that. First, Halloran’s dead. Second, Carter’s deal has been made.”
“But she could clear Ben’s name. Think of his son.”
Sal frowns. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. I made things worse.”
I stand and say, “You’re refusing to help me?”
He looks at Sophie. “She’s relentless!”
Sophie stands. “You should like that about her.”
“I like everything about her. But she doesn’t like me.”
“I’d love to be friends with you and your family,” I say. “But if you won’t help me clear Ben’s name, I don’t see how that’s possible.”
Sal shrugs. “I can’t help you, but I won’t stand in your way. How’s that?”
“Not good enough.”
I turn to leave.
Sophie hugs him goodbye. Then she and I exit the social club, climb in the limo, and I collapse on her shoulder and start crying.
“Things will work out, Dani. We’ll clear Ben’s name.”
“I know that,” I say. “I’m crying about us.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to lose your friendship. And that breaks my heart.”
I reach in my purse, pull out my cell phone, click a button, and hold it up so she can hear Sal say, “I can’t help you, but I won’t stand in your way. How’s that?”
“You recorded our convers
ation?”
“I did. Everything’s on tape. I’m sorry, Sofe, but I owe it to Ben.”
“You’re aware this tape could send Sal to prison?”
“Please tell me he’s got some judges in his pocket and the best legal representation money can buy.”
“Of course he does. But don’t you even care how this will make me look to my family?”
“He should’ve searched us. I can’t believe a crime boss would let us walk into his private office without searching us! I simply took advantage of his oversight.”
“It wasn’t an oversight, Dani. He trusts me. You took advantage of that trust.”
“Like I said, I knew this would come between us. And that breaks my heart.”
I put the phone back in my purse. Then it dawns on me the limo is still parked in front of Sal’s club.
“Why aren’t we moving?” I ask.
Sophie smiles.
“You know I love you,” she says.
“I hope so.”
“Well, I have a confession to make.”
I’M SITTING IN a limo with my best friend in the world, Sophie Alexander, whose uncle happens to be the most powerful crime boss in America. The limo’s not moving, and I’ve just admitted taping her uncle’s conversation during which he claimed to have specific knowledge of a gangland hit on Gray Halloran.
The limo and driver are owned by Sophie’s uncle, crime boss Sal Bonadello.
The limo’s supposed to be taking Sophie and me back to Nashville.
But it’s not moving.
Sophie says she loves me, but has a confession to make. As I watch her smiling at me I start wondering how well I really know this 29-year-old country singer and song-writer.
“What’s the confession?” I ask.
She points to the social club, and I watch five men enter the front door.
I recognize one of them.
WHEN DANI AND SOPHIE leave the room, Carter says, “How did I do?”
“Not bad.”
“You think Dani bought it?”
“Which part?”
“That Gray made the poison instead of me.”
“Yeah, she bought it.”
“Because I admitted the other things?”
“Right. That’s what makes the story—whatcha call—plausible.”
“You think she suspects I killed Gray?”
“Naw.” Sal smiles. “That was a—whatcha call—stroke of genius, poisoning yourself with the ricin. Hell of an alibi.”
“So I get the job?”
“Whacking the councilman? I gotta think about it.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure you’re up for it.”
She frowns. “You still have doubts? After all this?”
“I haven’t seen you kill anyone. So far it’s just you claiming you killed Halloran. It ain’t easy looking a person in the eye, taking his life. And it ain’t easy hiding the evidence afterward.”
“I looked Gray in the eyes before pushing him off the balcony. That ought to count. And I’ve still got enough ricin to do the councilman.”
“Where?”
She laughs. “In my purse.”
“You took the ricin how long before pushing him off the balcony?”
“Twenty-four hours.”
“That took guts.”
“So I get the job?”
“Maybe. Why’d you kill him?”
She shrugs. “He outlived his usefulness. Gray was a total fuckup. He let Dani erase the photos. He went rogue and warned her about going to the tabloids. He made up that stupid story about Ben having a fixation on Dani when she was fifteen. Again, not part of the plan. Not to mention the fact he was ManChild.”
“He was a—whatcha call—loose cannon.”
“Exactly.”
Carter looks at him and flashes a warm smile.
“What?”
“I like the way you handle yourself, Sal. There’s nothing I find sexier than a powerful man.”
He smiles. “I like the way you handle yourself, too.”
“Maybe you should handle me.”
He laughs. “I’m old enough to be your father.”
“Really?” she coos. “Then why am I so fucking hot for you?”
He looks at her. “The timing’s all wrong. You’re about to disappear for a long time.”
“We don’t have to fall in love.”
He smiles. “True.”
She stands, unbuttons her blouse. Then removes it and says, “I thought I should prove I’m not wearing a wire.”
He says, “I might need more proof.”
“Do I get to kill the councilman before I go undercover?”
Her fingers are poised to unhook her bra.
“Yeah.”
“You promise?”
“Yeah.”
“Fifty grand, right?”
“Half up front, half after.”
She removes her bra, lifts her right breast, licks her nipple. Then says, “How about you?”
“You want me to lick the other one?”
She laughs. “I meant take off your clothes. But sure, you can lick it.”
“How do I know you’re not wearing a wire under your dress?”
She smiles, reaches behind her, unzips her skirt, steps out of it. Then says, “If you’ll kindly give me the down payment, I’ll take off my panties and make you the happiest man in Cincinnati.”
He crosses the floor, pulls a painting off the wall, punches six digits into the safe’s keypad. He removes five bundles of cash, hands them to her. She riffles through them, places them in her handbag.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” she says, stepping out of her panties. Then puts her hands over her head and does a cute little dance. “What do you think? Not bad, huh?”
He chuckles, approvingly.
“Your turn,” she says.
“To dance?”
She winks and says, “To prove you’re not wearing a wire.”
Sal unbuttons his shirt. She says, “What the fuck?”
“Actually, I am wearing a wire. Gentlemen?”
The door opens, and three detectives and two plainclothes cops walk in. Nashville police detective Marco Polomo looks at Carter and whistles. One of the local detectives says, “You can put your hands down now, Ms. Teague. To avoid further embarrassment, perhaps you’d like to get dressed before we cuff you and escort you to the station.”
FIVE MINUTES EARLIER…
OUTSIDE IN THE limo, Sophie says, “My confession is Uncle Sal agreed to help you clear Ben’s name.”
“What?”
“Carter contacted Sal months ago, hoping to get a job as a hit woman. Of course, Sal claimed he was a legitimate businessman and knew nothing about such things. So Carter got involved with Gray, instead. When she heard you erased the photos she realized she was getting nothing for all the work she did. So one night she poisoned herself. The next night she pushed Gray off the balcony so it would look like a murder-suicide. But she never told the cops about Gray being ManChild.”
“Because it would implicate her.”
“Right. While Carter was recuperating in the hospital, she called Sal and tried again to get a hit contract. She said if she killed Gray, the man she was dating, she could obviously kill a total stranger. When Sal said that wasn’t enough to warrant a major contract, she confessed to framing Ben and making the poison that killed him.”
“Sal told you all this?”
“Uh huh.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Uncle Sal said your honest reaction would help make Carter confess after we left.”
“Why would she confess?”
“She’s still trying to get the hit job. Uncle Sal planned to pay her for a phony hit, and get her to confess on tape to framing Ben and killing Gray. Since the detectives are moving in, I guess it worked.”
