Chasing a Dead Man

by Kathryn J Bain

“What makes you think someone’s looking for him?”

  “The man in your house. And then Jane. She can’t be here because she got ran off the road by a black SUV.”

  There were several silent seconds before Pamela answered. “I guess having the police close by would be a good idea. But they have to stay away until I talk to Phillip first.”

  “I’ll let Detective Iverson know.” Winston wasn’t about to guarantee anything for the police.

  “And don’t forget the key Jane found.”

  “I don’t know where it is. I figure she’s got it with her.” Winston hadn’t even asked. She thought it would be safer to not have it in case this husband of Pamela’s planned her harm.

  Pamela released a loud breath of air. “He said we needed it to keep me safe.”

  “Him turning himself in will be the best way to keep you safe.” When she got no response, Winston added, “It’s better not to give him what he wants at first. We need to see what he’s involved in.”

  “I suppose.”

  “I’m heading over now.” Winston hung up. Her stomach quivered, and her hands grew clammy. She walked to the closet and pulled one of her heavier jackets. She hoped Charles was already in place. The thought seemed to calm her nerves.

  “Where are you going?” Marcia asked from the kitchen.

  “I have to meet a client.”

  “A bit late for that, isn’t it?” She crossed her arms over her chest like an angry parent who had just caught their child sneaking in.

  “Well, she’s really Jane’s client, and Jane can’t be there for her.”

  “Then let her change the appointment.”

  “There’s more involved. Besides, I used to be a kid of the night, remember.”

  Marcia’s brow furrowed. “But that was a long time ago, before you had a real leather jacket.”

  “But I’ll be fine. Charles is going to be there also.”

  Winston wasn’t worried so much about herself as she was Pamela. How was she going to react once she found out that her husband was likely involved in a hit-and-run murder scheme for insurance money?

  Chapter 26

  At 8:40, Winston pulled into the Deerwood community where Pamela lived. Her heart grew heavy. She had no choice. She had to tell Pamela about her husband and the insurance scheme.

  No wife wanted to discover their husband wasn’t the prince they thought they were, but it was better to find out now instead of after the police arrested him for murder.

  Winston parked in front of Pamela’s house. Lights from the garage shone on one car in the driveway.

  A dark figure crossed the street a half-block down. Winston paused. Could it be Pamela’s husband? She waited, but the figure disappeared, jogging in the opposite direction.

  Winston got out and walked to the front door. Pamela answered before she could knock. Winston followed her into the living room. The mess from the break-in had been cleaned.

  Pamela paced, rubbing her hands like she was smoothing in lotion. “So did Detective Iverson agree to letting me speak with Phillip first?”

  “Not at first, but he relented when I refused to tell him where we were meeting.”

  They walked to the kitchen and took a seat at the island.

  “Any news on Jane?” Pamela asked.

  “Yeah, just bruised up a bit. She thinks whoever ran her off the road was trying to scare her more than kill her.”

  “It’d scare me.”

  Winston wasn’t sure how Jane would take it. She had a tendency to get angry over things like this, looking for revenge instead of a quiet place to hide.

  “There’s more,” Winston said.

  “What?” Pamela folded her hands together.

  “You know those licenses Jane found?”

  “Yeah...” She dragged out the word.

  “An insurance policy was collected on each man in the amount of one hundred thousand dollars. The money went to a company called the Caldwell Company.” She paused a second. “Ever heard of it?”

  “No.” Pamela’s voice was barely audible. She stared into the darkness.

  “Also, your husband’s actual name is Andrew Smirnov. He is an insurance agent. He’s also the one who sold those policies to each of those men, and those fake licenses were used as the identification for the men.”

  Pamela tilted her head sideways. “Why not just use their own?”

  “Near as I can figure it, these men might have been into drugs. If so, it would have shown in their blood, making it impossible to get the insurance.”

  “So?”

  Winston hesitated, then said, “You can’t collect the proceeds unless the insured is dead.” She gave Pamela a minute to process all the information. Her eyes widened.

  “They’re dead?” She gasped.

  “Yes.”

  “That doesn’t mean my husband killed them,” Pamela whispered.

  “No, but he has to be involved.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  Was this woman so naïve? “Because it’s his face on those IDs?” Winston’s voice was curt. “Not only did he write the policies, but I have little doubt it was his blood used to insure they received the insurance.”

  Pamela’s eyes pierced her. After a second her face softened. Tears welled in her eyes. “That means he’s responsible for me being shot.” It was a painful statement. Pamela touched her stomach.

  Winston had no words to make it better. She got up and went to a nearby window and looked out. The sky was dark with no stars out. No sign of Charles or any other officer, not that she was surprised.

  “Did your husband say which direction he was coming in? Front or back?” she asked.

  Pamela shook her head. “No. I just assumed the front, but I don’t know.”

  Winston glanced at her cell phone clock. Two minutes until nine o’clock.

  ***

  Pamela’s fingers tapped against the counter. Where was he? Had he changed his mind? Did he know the police were watching? Did she really care if he got arrested at this point? He deserved to spend the rest of his life in jail, not just for killing those others, but for her pain as well.

  Her lip wobbled. She bit it to keep from letting out a sob. Why did the thought of losing him still hurt?

  Winston got them some water. She sat on the sofa seeming calm, cool, and collected.

  The dog next door let out a bark. Pamela bounced up and rushed to the window. Nothing.

  “What is it?” Winston asked.

  “Just Hoover, my neighbor’s dog. He barks at everything.”

  Winston joined Pamela. It was too dark to see anything. Hoover barked some more. A cat meowed and darted out from some bushes.

  Pamela’s heart pounded in her chest. What if he decided not to come? She glanced at her watch. Almost 9:10. She walked to the back door, and opened it to allow cold air in.

  Within a couple of seconds, a silhouette stumbled through the back gate. Hunched over.

  “Phillip?” Pamela whispered.

  Winston came up behind her. Even with the back porch light on and the security light from behind, it was still too hard to see who it was. The only sound was the shuffling of feet as if the man’s body was too heavy to hold upright.

  Hoover raced up and down the fence barking. The person paused.

  “Who are you?” Pamela asked.

  If this was Phillip, why was he walking so strangely? He tripped to one side, but remained upright, his steps slow, deliberate. Abruptly he halted.

  Was this the person who shot her? Ice gripped Pamela’s heart. She recalled being followed to the back fence. Stalked like an animal knowing it would eventually die.

  Winston took hold of her arm and stepped forward. “Mr. Evers, I’m Winston Black. I’m an attorney and am here to help you.”

  He took two steps until he was in the light a few feet away.

  Relief came over Pamela. “Phillip.”

  The dog next door was in a frenzy. The neighbor’s back porch lig
ht came on. Pamela looked in that direction.

  A groan sounded. He held out his hand. It was covered with something dark.

  “I love…” He dropped at her feet. His unblinking eyes stared up at her.

  Pamela choked back a scream. Winston grabbed her around the waist. Police were suddenly everywhere.

  “No. No. No.” Pamela tried to tear away as Winston dragged her back inside.

  Chapter 27

  As much as Jane tried to stay away, she couldn’t. She rounded the corner a block away from the Evers’ home. Blue lights flashed all around. She drove past, then continued driving. Three blocks up, she called Winston.

  “Winston, what’s going on?” Jane tightened her hand on her phone.

  “It’s just that … Pamela’s husband is on his way to the trauma center at Shands. He’s been stabbed.”

  Jane leaned back against the headrest. Stabbed? She needed answers, and Winston would be a good place to get them. “Where are you?”

  “At the station. Charles is here with me making out a report. I’ll catch you up later.”

  “Okay. I’ll head over to the hospital.”

  “Wait a minute.”

  There was talking on the other end of the line as Jane waited.

  “I’m back,” Winston said. “Charles just got a call from an officer at Shands. Andrew Smirnov didn’t make it.”

  “Poor Pamela.”

  “Yeah. I need to go. I’ll call you later.”

  It took all Jane’s power not to head downtown to find out what had occurred, but Cam would be worried. Still, it didn’t keep Jane from replaying what Winston had told her. Someone had been able to get to Smirnov and kill him. Even with the police hanging around. But how? And who?

  Jane pulled into her driveway, glad to be home. She stepped through the front door to the sound of laughter.

  Cam poked his head around the corner from the kitchen. His tight lips said they’d be discussing the dangers of her job later that night.

  Liz rushed up and hugged her. “We’re fixing ice cream. You want some?”

  “Sure. But shouldn’t you be in bed?” Jane winced when Liz leaned against her side.

  “Dad said you had an accident, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Jane bit back the pain and hugged Liz again. “I’m okay. The car’s laid up, but I’m fine.”

  “I’ll put extra sprinkles on your ice cream to make you feel better. Let me go pour the chocolate.” Liz disappeared into the kitchen.

  Jane figured the sprinkles were Liz’s way of getting to have fun. She always liked shaking the dispenser, never seeming to get enough out for her liking.

  Cam finally walked out. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked.

  “Yeah, just sore. I’m going to go up and take a hot shower. Might help with my muscles.” She glanced into the kitchen. “Where’s Luke?”

  “In his room. Trying to play like he doesn’t care.”

  Just more proof of his immaturity.

  Ten minutes later, she got out of the water, her robe wrapped around her. She walked into the hallway and heard Cam and Liz talking.

  “Are you mad at Mom?” Liz was asking.

  “What makes you ask that?”

  “You get quiet when you’re mad, and I know I didn’t do anything. Did Lucas?”

  He chuckled. “No, I’m just worried about your mother.”

  “I was too.”

  Guilt rushed through Jane. She wanted to race into her daughter’s room and assure her child that everything would be all right, but then Liz went on.

  “I worry about your job too,” Liz added.

  “Me?” Cam’s voice held surprise. “My job’s not dangerous.”

  “When you go up on bridges and tall buildings it is.” Her voice lowered. “I worry you might get hurt. I know Mom does too.”

  “It’s unlikely that I’ll fall. And I don’t do it much. Most of the time I’m safe.”

  “Like Mom’s job. But I still worry.”

  Jane returned to her room. Out of the mouth of babes. She checked the video feed on the Jeffries camera. No movement. Sometimes the quiet jobs were the best, at least for kids.

  She checked the bruise on her shoulder and hip.

  Cam walked in with a bowl of ice cream. “Here you go.” He handed it to her. Multicolored sprinkles were melting into the chocolate chip ice cream. “The kids are off to bed if you want to say goodnight.”

  “Thanks.” She scooped out a bite of the ice cream then headed to say goodnight to the kids.

  Luke barely looked at her, but Liz allowed her to tuck her in.

  When she returned, Cam was still standing in the same spot. “So, are you going to tell me what really happened.” His jaw tightened, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “And don’t tell me nothing. You’re the best driver I know. If you had an accident, it’s probably because someone made you have one.”

  He knew her well, so she told him what occurred. “I can’t help feeling if I was a man he would’ve come after me once I crashed. Guess I should be glad. Not sure why I’m not.” The minute the words came out, she knew they’d been a mistake.

  Cam’s mouth opened, then closed. He tossed his hands down at his side. “You’re mad because he didn’t hurt you worse?”

  “Yeah, I know it’s a totally different level of stupid.” She plopped down on the edge of the bed.

  “Equality is good until someone’s trying to harm you. Let all those guys out there think you’re a weak woman. Let it work for you because it’ll sure make me feel a lot better. I know it sounds sexists, but take advantage of being a woman, at least this time.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. And then he laughed also.

  “We’re really something, aren’t we?” she said. “Got one kid who hates us and another who’s getting an ulcer.”

  “She’s not the only one.” Cam sat down next to her. “I hate this job of yours, you know that?”

  “I know. But it’s normally calm and quiet.”

  “But it’s the other times that make me wish you were still working from home.” He kissed her shoulder. “I’d hate to lose you.”

  “I’d hate to lose me too.” She stretched her neck and rolled her shoulders.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “How about I give you a massage?”

  “That would be nice. You do know that in this case, a back rub really means a back rub.”

  He kissed her neck. “But you’re not going to fault me if I try for more, are you?”

  ***

  Gabriel took a bite of apple pie. Olivia and Brittany were in bed. He’d miss them when he left, but he had no choice. It was either leave or chance spending the rest of his life in prison.

  His phone buzzed in the other room for the second time within ten minutes. He let out a loud breath and gave Analyn a smile.

  “Sorry.” He scooted the chair back and stood.

  She took hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know something’s up with work, but it’ll be okay.”

  He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

  In his home office, he glanced at the phone. He’d missed two calls. One, a text from Employee 368.

  Something’s up. Cops all around Evers’ home. Will call later.

  The second missed call caused his heart to jump into his throat. Employee 429 had sent a text telling him to call. What did she want? It was her relationship with Smirnov that caused all this trouble.

  “Hello.” he said upon her picking up the phone.

  “Hello to you too.” She almost purred over the line. “I just thought I’d let you know that your problem is solved.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He’s dead.”

  Gabriel closed the door. “Who?”

  “You know who. Andy dear.”

  “He’s got the location for the unit, you idiot,” He whispered harshly.

  “Don’t call me an idiot.” Her voice grew loud. “And the ke
y wasn’t on him, I searched.”

  Of course, she would. Little doubt she had the same idea as Smirnov, to blackmail him.

  “Well now it’s over for all of us,” Gabriel said. “He was the only one who could tell us where that unit is located.”

  “Give me a day or two to see if I can find it. Maybe Pammy dear knows.”

  “Like she’d have anything to do with you.”

  Silence held over the line. “Don’t piss me off or I’ll make a deal with the cops, and you’ll end up in prison waiting on a needle.”

  She would. Just to protect herself. But would she let them know she was the one who killed Evers and Smirnov? The one who shot his wife and killed that baby?

  “Employee 368 already checked her place out.”

  “Who needs to search. I’ll just ask her. Nicely or…” She laughed.

  He shuddered at her words. She was one nut case. Lied better than anyone he’d employed, and when she didn’t get what she wanted, pain and death were her calling cards.

  “What will it cost me if you find it?” he asked.

  “One million.”

  Gabriel choked. “One mil… You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “I know you have it, so don’t balk.”

  “Okay. Okay.” He’d make her think he was playing along. At least until he found out where the storage unit was located. Even without the key, he could get in. He just needed to know where.

  “I’d like a down payment,” she purred. “A good faith gesture. Let’s say fifty to start with.”

  “Where do you want to meet?”

  “There’s a Hampton Inn in St. Augustine. I’ll get a room. And don’t send your animal, because if anything happens to me, I’ve got a friend ready to mail information to the police telling them everything.”

  Gabriel’s fist tightened on the phone. “What name will the room be under? After all, you have as many aliases as Smirnov did.”

  “Right now, I’m going by Trish Peterson.”

  Chapter 28

  The next morning, Pamela stood with Jane in the outer corridor of the medical examiner’s office. Detective Iverson stood against the far wall. Trish was seated to their left. Winston had called her for support. That’s what friends did, come running when you needed them. But she and Trish weren’t really friends.