Tony was amused that Warren seemed put off by his roughed-up face. The putz no doubt thought Tony might take a swing at him. With a derisive laugh, Tony said, “Yeah, shove off, Warren. We have a different agenda to take care of.”
Clarice squeezed Warren’s hand. “It’ll be all right, dear.”
When Warren didn’t get going, Tony laughed again. He had a putdown ready, but Mildred cut him off. She held up the folder that she’d been clutching to her ample bosom. “It’s just another appraisal,” she said. “We need Clarice to look it over.” By now the two surveyors had walked off. Warren had no choice but to follow them or look sillier than he already did.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Clarice assumed a tough girl stance. “Okay, Tony, what’s going on? And don’t give me any shit about another appraisal.”
With a broad sweep of his arm, Tony said, “According to Feldman, this is all yours now.”
A sly smile played at her lips. “You know how it goes. The early bird gets the worm.”
“And what do I get? A swift kick in the pants?”
“Don’t be so dramatic. I did what I had to do. Things were spiraling out of control. Warren wasn’t going to approve your loan, no matter what. The bank auditors—not to mention the Feds—were getting a little too curious about some of his other loans and the investments he managed. It was time for a change. And, as you well know, your favorite uncle was breathing down our neck by sending Nick to spy on us. To cap it all off, George’s accident was a total screw-up.” She gave him a cold stare. “Thanks to you and our dim-witted sheriff.”
“But killing Nick was brilliant.”
Clarice glanced at Mildred.
“Don‘t worry, she knows everything now.”
“Then you both understand that I had no choice concerning Nick.”
“Let me get this straight,” said Tony. “You tell me to cool my heels while things settle down after you murdered him. Then you go behind my back and buy Baker Bluff all by your lonesome.”
“I couldn’t take any more chances that the property would slip out of our hands.”
“Your hands, you mean.”
She shrugged. “Warren had the dough; you didn’t.” She looked toward her husband and the surveyors. It appeared they were about to wrap up their test. “I don’t have anything more to say to you.” She turned to go. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some test results to review.”
Tony held up both hands. “Not so fast. We weren’t jawing when we said we had some papers for you.” He turned to Mildred. “Show her what you’ve got there, Millie.”
Mildred opened the folder and handed it to Clarice, who scanned the faded newspapers tucked inside. “If you’re thinking of blackmailing me with these, you can forget it,” she said. “Warren knows all about my past.” She thrust the folder back into Mildred’s hands. Looking squarely at Tony, she said, “I have no secrets from my husband.”
“Just from me, huh?”
“Look, Tony. What we had was fun while it lasted, but in the end, money talks. You should know that by now.”
“What I know is that you cleaned out the Destiny Group bank account. I had a stake in those funds, too, as you well know.”
She smiled without warmth. “It was my name and my name alone on the bank account.”
“And it’s your name alone that will have to answer to the Feds when they come calling.”
“The Feds? What do they have to do with anything?”
Tony grinned. “Seems your little scheme has hit another snag. Old George has died.”
“How is that my concern?”
Tony turned to Mildred. “Give her the news.”
“George was in Federal custody at the hospital, thanks to Sam Matthews’ intervention. Now that he’s died, you can bet Matthews’ will have lots more questions about Nick’s murder. From what Sheriff Pritchard says, Matthews already had doubts about the story you concocted. It’s the sheriff’s duty to be as forthcoming as he can.”
“Fine. He can be forthcoming all he wants. But, don’t forget, you’re all involved, too. I think they call it accessories to a crime.”
“Think again, sweetheart,” said Tony. “The sheriff has the pistol you used to kill Nick. It hasn’t been processed yet, but whose fingerprints do you think they’ll find when it is?”
A horn’s shrill blare cut short whatever comeback she had in mind. She flinched and said, “Now what?”
Tony waved as Leonard Pritchard and another man climbed out of the sheriff’s vehicle. “Well, well, well,” Tony said. “Looks like we have some company.” He nudged Mildred. “Time for you to meet and greet. And don’t forget to take that folder with you.”
As Mildred trudged off to meet the sheriff, Clarice glared at Tony. “What are you up to now?”
“I know you recognize the sheriff. What about the bald guy with him?”
Clarice stepped closer to Tony until she was inches from his face. Her familiar lavender scented perfume made him feel slightly dizzy. Overcome by a sudden longing, Tony wondered if he’d misjudged her. Could they still salvage their relationship? Then she spoke and stomped on whatever feelings he had left for her. “Listen, I don‘t give a flying fuck who Leonard dragged out here. And, if you think it makes any difference to me whether Mildred sticks those newspapers in their faces, think again, jackass.”
“Jackass? Oh, babe, where has all the love gone?”
“Straight to hell. Which is where you’re headed if you even think of blackmailing me. Forget my fingerprints. As I said before, if I go down, you and Leonard are going down with me.”
How could he have thought there might still be a chance for them? She was a heartless bitch and they’d never have a life together. “I’m sure that would be the case,” he told her. “So, no, I don’t intend to blackmail anyone. Let alone you.”
Clarice studied him for a moment. “Then what do you intend?”
“It’s been my experience that the public is rather quirky. Especially those who patronize high-class hotels and resorts. I think you’ll find that rich snobs tend to be a little put off by murder and such things as you’ve been involved in. Not here, of course. In Portland. Now, here’s the deal,” he said, pointing at the bald man. “That guy is a reporter for the local newspaper. We invited him out here to give you some advance publicity about the super new development you’re planning. He’s anxious to get an exclusive interview and hear all about the exciting things you and Warren have in mind for this place. You can’t beat free publicity.”
“But?”
“All I have to do is give Mildred the high sign and the publicity gets a slightly different slant. Including a hot tip on Nick’s murder case. That should make the Feds salivate. Don’t worry about the rest of us, though. Pritchard, Mildred and I have agreed on an air-tight alibi. Too bad you don’t have anyone in your corner anymore.”
“You bastard! What do you want?”
“What I’ve always wanted, Clarice. Ownership of Baker Bluff.”
She shook her head. “Not possible.”
“Oh?” Tony caught Mildred’s eye and started to raise his hand.
“Okay, okay. We can put your name on the deed. Satisfied?”
“Nope. I want a split of the action. Fifty-fifty like we planned.”
“No way. Warren and I have put up all the money for this deal.”
“Yeah, I know. Must have been a little short, though. Is that why you raided the Destiny Group account?” When she didn’t respond, Tony shrugged and said, “But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, right?”
“Don’t be glib. If I hadn’t
made those appraisals work, there wouldn’t have been any funds for the account in the first place.”
“That’s beside the point now, isn’t it?”
“Tell you what, Tony: I don’t have a problem with you. Warren doesn’t, either. So, let’s settle this here and now. I know that you’ve got 25 Gs stashed in the office safe that you swindled out of Uncle Sol’s share of your sales commissions. You ante up that dough and we’ll call it a deal.”
“What about Leonard and Mildred?”
“I couldn’t care less. Just as long as he loses my pistol, Leonard can head up security or something if he still wants to stick around. It’s always useful to have a crooked lawman on your team. Mildred can still be your buddy-buddy secretary. But they both need to keep their traps shut.”
Tony grinned. Mildred shouldn’t have worried. He still knew how to work the ladies. “I’ve always liked the way you think, babe.”
“No more bullshitting, Tony. You or Leonard pull any more funny stuff and—”
“And what? You’ll whack us?”
“Get that reporter over here. I’m done talking to you. Just get us the money or I’m calling the whole thing off, publicity or no publicity. Let the chips fall where they may. I’ve taken care of myself before and I can do it again.”
“Where’re you gonna be? I heard you’ve moved out of your house already.”
“Warren and I are attending the Indians’ Reburial Ceremony on Sunday. You can meet us at the new cemetery.”
Just when Tony thought he had Clarice’s number, she came up with something new. “Since when have you been interested in what the Injuns do?”
“Think about it, Tony. They’re going to be out of work as soon as the dam is completed and the fishing goes bye-bye. We’ll need cheap labor to get this project off the ground.”
Tony snorted. “God help us! You’re gonna hire a bunch of savages? What makes you think those lazy good-for-nothing redskins will have anything to do with you? Last time I checked they weren’t so keen on whites, especially since they believe old George was falsely accused of murder.”
Clarice shrugged. “Hunger is a strong motivator.”
***
Tony whistled as he drove back to town. He’d pulled another disaster out of the fire and all was right with the world again. Well, almost. He still had Ellie’s father to deal with, but Tony could cook up some plausible story to appease him. Hadn’t he handled clever Clarice with ease? Handing over the twenty-five thousand to her and Warren was irksome, but a small price to pay for freedom. He’d planned to spend it on the purchase anyway. He was just a day away from the clutches of Uncle Sol, after all.
Mildred said, “I take it Clarice agreed to our demands.”
“Yeah, no sweat. I told you I could handle that woman.”
“You sure did, boss. We ought to celebrate.”
Tony shook his head. “Not today. I’ve got some business at the office to finish up. Listen: why don’t you take the rest of the day off? You deserve it.”
“I didn’t do much but stand there.” She tactfully avoided mentioning that the plan was her idea.
“Standing next to the reporter with the folder in your hot little hands was enough to make Clarice see the error of her ways.”
Mildred laughed as he pulled the convertible alongside the curb next to the office. “Glad to oblige,” she said, exiting the car. “If you need me again, I’ll be at home.”
He waved her off and entered the office. The shades were drawn and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light after the sun’s bright glare.
He blinked twice and then gasped. As he stared at the extent of the destruction, it hit him. The safe. Oh, my God. The safe!
“Don’t worry, son. You ain’t been robbed,” said Uncle Sol. “I have!”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Tony didn’t know what stunned him more—Solomon Rossi showing up at the office or the fat old man exerting himself enough to search the place. It didn’t matter; he had the ledgers. Tony’s gut wrenched as if he’d been sucker punched. He knew he looked as bad as he felt. Suddenly light headed, he reached for the nearest desk to steady himself.
“Sit down before you fall down, why don’t ya?” Uncle Sol’s tone was controlled, but Tony had no doubt that he was in for it. His uncle did not suffer fools or cheaters lightly and Tony was guilty of both sins. He had to think fast if he was going to wrangle his way out of this one. Tony slumped into a chair and, stalling for time, pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the sweat off his forehead. The office was stifling hot, but his skin was cold and clammy. He wracked his brain for something he could say, something that would sound believable. “Uncle Sol,” he began. “I can explain.”
“No, let me explain, Antonio,” he said. The controlled tone had given way to fierce anger. “You’ve been cheating me since day one!” He slammed the ledgers onto Mildred’s desk.
Tony swallowed the bile rising in his throat and stammered, “But I—”
“Shut up!” Uncle Sol shouted. “It’s all right there,” he said pointing a stubby finger at the ledgers. “You’ve been keeping two sets of books—one for the real figures and one for cheating me with.”
All Tony could think of was to play dumb. “Two sets of books? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Mildred handles the records, not me.”
“Are you saying that your secretary has been fiddling with the numbers behind your back?”
Now that he mentioned it, why not blame it on Millie? She was the perfect patsy. Tony scratched his head as if considering the possibility that he’d been duped. “Who else could it be?” he asked. “No one in the office besides her has access to those books, not even me. Millie guards them with her life, but I just thought she was being extra careful. I never thought she was covering her backside by keeping them off limits.” He shook his head, feigning disgust. “I trusted that woman completely. Damn!”
Uncle Sol didn’t say anything for a moment and his expression was hard to read. There was no mistaking that he was angry. The ruddy jowls and bushy eyebrows scrunched together like a brutal gash were a dead give-away. But whether he’d bought the yarn Tony had made up on the fly was not clear. He’d never expected his uncle to come snooping around the office—the man practically lived in his recliner—or he’d have had a story all prepared. Tony cursed himself for not staying on top of things. Murder or not, it wasn’t like Uncle Sol to just forget about why he’d sent Nick to spy on him. It was all Clarice’s fault. Killing Nick and then double-crossing him had thrown Tony off his game.
The old geezer hadn’t seemed to notice the bloodstains that were still visible on the cover of the ledgers. Tony had no idea how he would ever explain that. Thankfully, Uncle Sol was only interested in what was inside the ledgers—and his missing twenty-five large. He rolled his buggy eyes at Tony. “You stupid idiot! Don’t you know any better than to trust a broad? Especially with money. My money.”
If Uncle Sol only knew . . . Tony had been betrayed all right, but the broad pulling the fast one wasn’t dear old Millie. He shrugged his shoulders to acknowledge his misplaced trust. “You’re right, Uncle Sol. I should never have trusted Mildred. I thought she was loyal, but I guess it was only to herself.”
“Where is she?” he asked.
“Who?”
“Who do you think? The swindler you call a secretary, that’s who.”
“I guess she’s at home. I gave her the day off.”
That answer wasn’t what Uncle Sol wanted to hear. He berated Tony for several minutes, the gist of which was that his nephew was a stupid fool. He’d not only hired a cheater but had allowed her and his two sale
smen to take the day off. “It’s summer, not Christmas!” Uncle Sol shouted, spittle flying. “This office ought to be hopping with business. No one should be wasting time at home when there’s money to be made.” He pushed Mildred’s desk phone toward Tony and said, “Call her up, Antonio. Tell her to hot-foot it over here right now.”
“Aw, Uncle Sol, don’t worry. Go on back to Portland. I can fire the bitch myself.”
“Don’t you get it, boy? I want my dough. And I’m not leaving until I get it.”
Tony had no problem convincing Mildred to come back to the office after he’d given her the day off. She was probably glad he’d called her. What worried him was what her reaction would be when Uncle Sol confronted her. Tony hoped to God she’d play along and take the fall. She should know he’d make it up to her somehow.
Mildred had never seen Uncle Sol in person, but she was no dummy. She didn’t say a word when she hustled through the door and saw the trashed office—or who was sitting at her desk. There was only one man alive who could make her boss look so miserable and that’s exactly how Tony appeared when she glanced his way. She still hadn’t spoken, but her eyes told Tony that she knew the jig was up. Uncle Sol glared at her with such menace that it was a wonder she didn’t turn around and high-tail it back home. Instead, she greeted him as if she’d been invited for a pleasant visit. “You must be Uncle Sol,” she said. “I’m pleased to meet you at last.”
Uncle Sol snorted, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He flipped open one of the ledgers. “Not after what I’ve seen in this here little book of yours.”
Tony met Mildred’s questioning look with a non-committal shrug. Here it comes.
“My nephew says you’ve cheated me out of 25 big ones,” Uncle Sol said. “It’s time for you to pay up.”
Mildred didn’t flinch at the accusation or try to deny it. Just as Tony had hoped, she came through for him. Even with her back to the wall, her first instinct was to protect him. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” She mustered a contrite look and laid it on thick. “You’ve always been good to me, boss. I never meant to do you or your uncle harm.”
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