“Max, are you kidding? God, maybe we’ll need his help, but he’ll flip out. Amanda knows something’s up but I told her it had to do with my attorney.”
“Okay. We’ll manage this.”
“The video is a small file. I copied and emailed it to you.”
“I’m almost home. I’ll look at it on my laptop and call you back.”
The blackmail cases Lyle could remember right away were really kidnapping ransoms or threatened kidnappings. But then there were the celebrity cases, corporate feuds. He tried to think of something similar, some starting point. When he walked in his condo, he poured himself a gin on the rocks. He set it down on his desk as he fired up his laptop. The video lasted only a few seconds.
The picture jiggled at first. Obviously shot with a cell phone or hand-held camera, the images were still sharp and clear. Kate sat on a stool and Busick stood facing her. The image began with Amanda in a white blouse and jeans saying something to Busick.
He seemed to push her out of the way saying, “Stay out of this, young lady.”
Busick’s gravel voice was loud and unmistakable. He turned to Kate, and she seemed to go on the offensive, telling him to keep his distance. The rest happened fast.
Kate stood up. Busick pointed a finger at her, appeared to poke her in the chest several times, then said, “Listen, blondie.”
Kate put both hands on Busick’s shoulders, and with a sharp push, propelled him backward. He lost his balance and fell to the ground. Whoever shot the video was close and caught all the action. Although Kate had described Busick as a stocky, aggressive guy, he seemed old and small compared to Kate.
The next second showed something Lyle was sure they wouldn’t want the police to see. Kate seemed to grab at Busick and he responded by taking a swing at her. Kate took a step back and the blow missed. Busick got up, staggered down the aisle, then swore at her loudly. The last shot showed Kate in an aggressive stance with one hand on a hip.
Lyle stared as the screen went blank. Then he watched it again.
“Did you see the person who filmed this?” Lyle asked when he called Kate.
“No, of course not. The place was crowded. People everywhere in the aisle. I watched Busick walk away.”
“Did you tell the police about this when they questioned you?”
“Not really. Bad, huh?”
Lyle tried to think. He started to take a long swallow of gin, then stopped. He had a pretty good idea he’d be in his car soon on the way to the airport.
Chapter 23
Lights inside Reno-Tahoe International Airport shined with intensity. Beeps and bells sounded from banks of slot machines, tourists’ first--or last--chance to lose money to Nevada. Initially, Kate was glad the terminal wasn’t crowded at eleven-forty-five p.m.
Then she felt exposed, unprotected in the bright open space near the escalators where people waited for passengers to arrive.
She wasn’t worried, just excited. Her old mantra before a basketball game tried to kick in.
Lyle wore jeans and a corduroy sport coat. Kate saw him from a distance. Smiling, he had one hand in a pocket, the other on the handle of his suitcase. Her nervous friend and partner in crime looked more relaxed than she was. And she’d added to his malaise.
“Lyle, so glad you’re here.” She hugged him tightly.
“I got the last flight from Flagstaff.”
“Guess you didn’t want to alert Max by taking the NC jet.”
“We’ll discuss this with him later.”
“I know what you’re going through, Lyle. And now this blackmail.”
“What I’m going through?”
“My secretary told me about the body in the desert,” Kate said as they walked to the airport parking structure. “There was a story online. I didn’t know about it when you were here. I’m sorry.”
“No need to be. Common knowledge around the park now. But we found the car, so everyone knows I’m not nuts. Most everybody. Maybe a body will turn up. Maybe not.”
She grasped his hand momentarily as she directed him to where she parked.
“Did they call?”
“Yes,” Kate said. “I did like you said and let it go to voice mail, to give us a little more time.” They got into Kate’s car and she pulled out, heading for the parking tollbooth. “I really don’t want that video to go to the police.”
“Ah, no. It definitely would not help if the police saw this,” Lyle said slowly. “It doesn’t look good. Looks like he poked you, then you really clobbered him.”
“Thanks a lot. That’s just what the cops will think. I didn’t push him that hard. He must have tripped.”
“Sorry. I know. Did you show it to your attorney?”
“No. No one.” Kate paid for parking, pulled out, and drove to the freeway.
“What did the blackmailer say on the phone message?”
“She just repeated the demand for money and said I had to have it by five o’clock tomorrow or she’d send the video to the police.”
“It was a woman?”
“Yes. Sounded like she was trying to disguise her voice. She whispered. But it wasn’t a pleasant sound. Caller ID showed a Vegas phone number. And the name just said, ‘John Smith.’”
“I’m sure the number’s phony. There’s an app to change your caller ID signature. You can make somebody think Goldie Hawn is calling. It’s called ‘spoofing’. Sounds innocent, doesn’t it?”
Kate felt tension in her neck. She shrugged her shoulders to loosen up.
“How’d she think you were going to get the money on a Sunday?”
“Someone dropped the note off early this morning. I guess she expected quick action.”
“We’ll figure this out,” Lyle said touching her arm. “Somehow we’ve got to come up with a way to explain this.”
Kate didn’t like something in Lyle’s tone. “What do you mean explain this?”
“Or stop this woman.”
“How do we do that? It would be stupid to pay the ransom.” Kate lapsed into silence, trying to think, wanting to hear reassuring words from Lyle. She focused on the money. Could she raise it in one day? “Fifty thousand,” she said.
“Only fifty. A lot, but it doesn’t sound like a big score. The park has deep pockets.”
“Maybe she thinks it’s easy to get that much on short notice, and then she’ll ask for more.”
“This sounds amateurish, like she didn’t think it through.”
“There’s no way we can get any kind of proof that we’ll be getting the only copy of the video.”
“That’s why it really doesn’t pay to pay.”
“If we’re not going to pay, what are we going to do?” He’s thinking we should tell the police. Let them handle it. Try to explain the unexplainable? “Lyle?”
“Let’s wait until tomorrow, turn on your phone, and see what she says. Did you talk to Bruce?”
“Yeah. He might be coming up. Maybe he could help.”
“Does he have fifty thousand?”
“Not unless he has it hidden somewhere I don’t know about.”
“You talk to Max?”
“No. What could he do anyway?”
“How much did you touch the DVD and the letter?”
“Finger prints? I didn’t think about it until I’d seen the video. Then I only touched it by the edges. Amanda and I handled the envelope and I held the letter, then put it down.”
“Probably has no prints, but it’s worth bagging it.”
Kate turned off the freeway heading for the Gold Mountain Hotel. Since Reno’s downtown main drag was blocked off for the display of classic cars, Kate had to cross North Virginia Street then turn south on Sierra Street. Lyle glanced down Virginia Street to the large neon and LCD arch that proclaimed Reno as, “The Biggest Little City in the World.” The garish lighting cast shadows; distorted black images of lamp posts and motionless hot rods stretched across the deserted pavement.
“Before you go too far,”
Lyle said, “I couldn’t get a room at your hotel. Seems there’s this big event going on. I had to get a place a little less swanky--for probably about the same money. Same place I stayed Friday.”
Kate had plenty of room in her suite, but having Lyle there wouldn’t work if Bruce showed up. Still, she didn’t want to be alone.
“I’ll catch a little sleep,” he said, “then get a cab to your hotel before breakfast. Don’t answer your phone if you don’t know who it is tonight. Tomorrow we’ll turn on the phone early and you can talk to the mysterious woman.”
“I’ve been thinking about this all evening. What possible reason would someone have to film me or Busick? Did someone just see a fight brewing and decide to record it?”
“If they did, then saw that you were arrested, they might see a possibility for blackmail.”
“That sounds too easy,” Kate said. “A coincidence.”
“The other possibility is that someone was tailing Busick, or you, and happened to be there to record the fight.”
“But why? Who?”
Chapter 24
When he knocked at Kate’s door the next morning, she surprised him. At six-thirty a.m. she was awake and dressed. She wore jeans and boots and looked almost like the beautiful Kate Sorensen, except a Kate who probably hadn’t slept since the day before.
“Five minutes and coffee will be ready,” she said. “Shall we talk a little before I turn on the phone? I haven’t received any calls.”
Lyle took a seat in the sitting room. “I wish we could find out something about this person.”
“I doubt she’s going to tell us why she’s doing this, but I’ll ask her.” Kate sat in a chair opposite him.
Lyle glanced toward the bedroom, trying to be casual.
“Bruce isn’t here. He called. He’ll be here this afternoon.”
Check out the bedroom. Real subtle, Deming. “Last night we talked about this being some random person filming an argument,” he said. “But look at the video again. It has staged qualities to it. As if someone positioned himself--or herself--before Busick ever got into it with you.”
“A plot against Busick, or me?”
“Motive?”
Kate sighed. “I’ll pour coffee.”
“I suppose this could have been filmed by the person who killed Busick,” Lyle said.
“But this happened before the murder. Are you saying someone planned the video and the murder?”
“I don’t know.” Lyle set his black coffee on the table next to him. “Regardless, this fight gives you a great motive for whacking Busick.”
“But he started it. It may look like I went after him, but that’s not the case.” She pointed to a spot in the middle of her chest, just above her breasts. “He yelled and he poked me, right here. Amanda can swear to that.”
“No matter who started it, the video still provides a motive for anger, revenge, or even murder. And you kept the fight from police. Busick started a fight with you once. Maybe he did it again in the RSD office.”
“No, he--”
“I know, Kate, but we’re kind of stuck.” Would prosecutors be permitted to show this to a jury? He leaned back, his dark eyes staring, unfocused.
“Are you going to say we should call the police?”
“Normally, this evidence--”
“There’s more. Remember, Detective Polhouse caught me trying to talk to Chris Easley. He probably knows I talked to Louise Busick, too, supposedly trying to influence the case against me. And there’s something else. I think a volunteer at the Rockin’ Summer Days vendor booth overheard me tell Amanda that I’d like to slug Busick again. This was just before I went to the office and found him.”
“Oh,” Lyle said, exhaling a breath. He leaned back in his seat, balled up a fist, and held it to his mouth. He cupped his fist with his other hand and scratched his chin. There’s got to be a plan B. He stood and walked to the window. “Who is doing this and why?”
“Someone involved in Busick’s death? Some kind of plot?”
“But does it make sense someone involved in the murder would blackmail you?” Lyle stared out the window at a row of hot rods lined up in the street. “Because if we pay, they’re supposed to give up the video.”
“Maybe it has something to do with one of the dealership lawsuits,” Kate said. “Investigators following him?”
“I forgot about that. But that’s related to the company’s practices, not Busick personally.”
“Or maybe one of Busick’s ex-girlfriends was following him around for some reason. Maybe to blackmail him?”
“Busick is dead and he can’t pay, so she blackmails you?”
“Too many possibilities,” Kate said. She ran her fingers through her long hair, then glanced at her watch. “What are we going to do?”
Lyle walked back and sat down. “Let’s turn on the phone and see what happens.”
He reached for his coffee cup on the table next to Kate’s phone. It rattled and rang Lyle jerked back. Kate grabbed the phone and looked at the screen. “It’s John Smith again.”
She punched buttons on the phone then answered. After a pause, Kate said, “Why are you doing this? Do I know you?”
Lyle got to the edge of his seat. Kate raised a hand to reassure him. In a few moments the call ended.
“You can listen,” Kate said. “I recorded it. This is a handy app when I’m doing media interviews and need to prove what I said.” She turned on the recorded call:
Caller: “Okay, have you got the money, the fifty thousand?”
Kate: “I need more time. It’s hard to raise the money on the weekend.”
Caller: “You’ll find a way. Tap a line of credit. Get the money, or the video goes to the police.”
Kate: “Why are you doing this? Do I know you? ”
Caller: “Listen, this isn’t about you. It’s about money. Fifty thousand. Give me the money and I burn all the copies of the video.”
Kate: “How do I know you’ll destroy all the copies?”
Caller: “I’ll do it. I just want the money. Get it and I’ll call you back this afternoon and tell you where to drop it.”
Kate: “Can you please--”
The call ended.
“Didn’t tell us much,” Kate said putting down the phone.
“But that recording will be evidence--if we need to use it.”
Kate sighed. “I could use your rubber-band-on-the-wrist therapy right now.”
“I have something better.” Lyle reached into his sport coat pocket and pulled out an orange prescription container. “Care for a Valium?”
“Maybe later. Where’d you get that?”
“My doctor. Says I have anxiety issues. Who knew?”
“Do they make you spacy?”
“No. It’s safe and effective when used as directed.”
“Lyle, I’m serious.”
“It’s fine. Just helps me relax and think.”
“Like that meditation you were supposed to be starting?”
“Yeah, just like that meditation I was supposed to be starting.”
“So,” Kate said, “what do we do now? We’re not going to pay.”
“Let’s pretend to pay.”
Kate looked at Lyle as if he were kidding.
“Seriously. We’ll do a rendezvous or a ransom drop--whatever she wants--and see if we can get a look at her, get some kind of identification. Then we’ll threaten her with the evidence we have. If she goes to the police, we do too. She’s a blackmailer. She’d go to jail.”
“She said this was only about the money. Maybe that’s the truth. Maybe she’s not involved with the murder.”
“Maybe so. This whole scheme is sloppy. If she’s not a real crook, this could scare hell out of her.”
“And she’d give up the blackmail.”
“Sure.” Where in hell did you get this idea, Deming?
“How’s this going to work?”
“We’ll talk about it. Are you hungry?”<
br />
“Yes, I think so.”
“Let’s get breakfast, and plan this out.” The more he thought about it, the more he liked his wacky idea. “Then one of us needs to question the people in the booths near yours. You didn’t--”
“No. I didn’t even know what was on the DVD until I got back here.”
“It’d be better if you talked to your neighbors, less obtrusive. Someone might have seen something useful. What time does Bruce’s flight get in?”
“Why?”
“I’ll take your car and pick him up.”
Chapter 25
“They couldn’t find your fingerprints,” Henrietta Mauser said when Kate answered her phone.
“Yeah, but they found me.” Kate sat in her hotel room staring out at the afternoon sun.
“The other good news is the police found so many prints that they’re really no use. Prints from board members, employees, people who do business with RSD, Busick’s stepson, plus a bunch of prints they can’t identify. And the knife handle was wiped clean.”
“How’d you find this out?” Kate asked her attorney.
“Oh, I have a few contacts. I don’t hear everything. I was lucky to get this. Anyway, just wanted to call and see how things are going.”
Kate thought about telling the truth, but she’d already decided against it, for now. She knew what Mauser’s advice would be. “I’m okay Henrietta, thanks.”
“Stick to your theme park business. Don’t give the police an excuse to bring you in again.”
“Of course not. I’ll be in touch.”
As Kate put down the phone, Bruce walked into her suite, followed by Lyle.
She ignored the funny look on Bruce’s face and put her arms around him, glad to have him back. He hugged her, then said, “He has a key?”
“Now how would you two have gotten in here if I wasn’t here?” Is he jealous? Bruce is supposed to be here to help me out of trouble. “Lyle is staying--”
“At the Four Seasons,” Lyle said. “The Trump Tower was booked.” He winked at Kate behind Bruce’s back.
She stifled a laugh that turned into a smile directed at her boyfriend. “Thanks for coming.”
Desert Kill Switch Page 10
