Dying for a Deal

by Cindy Sample

  What was she looking for? I hoped she didn’t need a bathroom because the only options were a couple of portable toilets on the opposite side of the field. And her turn was next.

  Jenna was finally introduced, and as she climbed the stairs to the stage her head whipped to the left and right. If this had been a scene from a Stephen King movie, her head would have done a three hundred and sixty-degree rotation.

  Not a good look for a salutatorian.

  Jenna shuffled her papers, then reached for the microphone. Her words rang out loud and true, encouraging her peers to go out in the world, challenging them to be the best they could possibly be.

  At the end of the speech, she added an impromptu one-liner stating “those who commit crimes against other persons will always receive their just reward.”

  Was that a warning to the driver of the Civic?

  After a short presentation by the superintendent of schools, it was time for the students to receive their diplomas.

  Just like every parent or relative there, our family screamed our lungs out when Jenna received hers. She settled into her seat and continued to chat with the boys on either side of her.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect my budding criminologist was plotting something.

  Seconds after Justin Zedesky received his diploma, cheers rang throughout the stadium, accompanied by five hundred mortarboards flying through the air. The graduates exultantly pummeled one another on the back.

  With the exception of three students: Jenna, Todd and Drew.

  All currently M.I.A.

  After asking Mother to watch the kids, I grabbed Tom’s hand and we maneuvered our way through the boisterous crowd. I already had a good idea where I would find Jenna.

  We arrived at the parking lot to find Todd and Drew guarding the damaged Civic we’d noticed earlier. Jenna was bent over the broken headlight, snapping photos.

  “I’ve got evidence,” she shouted. She passed her cell to me and I looked at several close-up photos, all of which displayed periwinkle paint chips on the Civic’s front bumper.

  “Great job, honey,” I said as four people approached the car. The two adults bore concerned expressions. The graduate wore a big smile, but the slightly older version of the graduate looked nervous, his eyes darting in all directions.

  The father walked up to Tom. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “I’ll let this young lady explain the situation.” Tom turned to Jenna. “It’s your show.”

  And what a show it was. The kid’s parents had no idea their son was responsible for a hit-and-run. They were upset about his reckless driving and had refused to pay the automotive damage, leaving it up to their son to save money for the repairs. Our brief meeting ended cordially with a full apology from the young man, and even more important, their insurance information.

  Two cases closed in two days. Mother and daughter were on a roll!

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  After a tumultuous three weeks of crime-solving and celebrating Jenna’s graduation, Tom and I decided the entire family could use a break. Since it was still early in the season, we lucked out and booked a three-bedroom lakefront condo in South Lake Tahoe for two nights. Hank said he would doggy sit Scout, and that was an offer we couldn’t refuse.

  The first day we spent on the beach building sand castles with the younger kids while Jenna relaxed on a chaise lounge. After four years striving for academic perfection, she was taking a well-earned break, a tattered mystery in one hand and a strawberry fruit smoothie in the other.

  “This is nice,” Tom said as we settled into our own chairs.

  “Sure beats my last two trips up here,” I replied. “From now on I’m sticking to white-collar crime. No more chasing after murderers.”

  “Good idea.” Tom leaned over to kiss me. “Yum. You taste great.”

  “Passion fruit pink lip balm. Guaranteed to keep my lips luscious and lustrous.”

  “Honey, they don’t come more luscious than you.”

  I fanned my face, wishing we could jump into the king-size bed and try it out. My cell rang, disturbing my fantasies. I reached into my beach bag and yanked out the phone. The clamor subsided but a resounding beep indicated I had a new message from an old nemesis.

  “Why is Ali Reynolds calling me?” I asked Tom.

  “Why don’t you listen to your voicemail and find out?” said my practical husband.

  I listened to her message twice before turning to Tom. “You’re never going to believe this.” I dropped the phone back in my bag, then pulled my paperback out.

  “C’mon, you’re not going to leave me in suspense, are you?”

  “After that last remark I should.” I waited a few seconds before blurting out, “Kimberly wants me to come to the jail.”

  “Whatever for?” Tom asked the question I’d wondered since I listened to Ali’s message.

  I shrugged. “To confess? To apologize? What do you think? Should I go?”

  “Up to you. Don’t forget we’re taking the kids on the gondola ride tomorrow.”

  What a choice. Going back to the scene of the crime or meeting with the perpetrator of the crime. I had to admit Kimberly’s request aroused my curiosity. If the kids gave me the okay I might skip the gondola expedition and find out what she wanted. Besides, given my propensity for disastrous encounters every time I visited Tahoe, the kids would be safer without me.

  Tom dropped me off at the South Lake Tahoe Police Department the next morning. The second he drove away, I regretted my decision. The sky was a brilliant blue and the temperature a perfect seventy-five degrees, ideal for hiking on the mountain trails while enjoying spectacular scenery. Instead, I chose to meet with a killer.

  Maybe it was time to make an appointment with a therapist.

  Once inside the lobby, I gave my name to the clerk. After a brief call, she told me Detective Reynolds would be out shortly.

  Thirty long minutes later Ali appeared. The dark circles under her eyes indicated the strain she was under to wrap up the murders in one tidy package.

  Would my meeting with Kimberly unravel the strands of her investigation?

  “Thanks for coming,” Ali said.

  “Anything I can do to keep Kimberly behind bars, just ask,” I replied. “I still can’t believe she held my pregnant friend hostage. Do you know why she wants to meet with me?”

  “Clueless at this point, but the chief said it couldn’t hurt. Just don’t go and screw up my case.”

  Technically, Ali wouldn’t have a case against the burglary ringleader without my assistance, but I kept that thought to myself. She did make that call to the Reno police, who ultimately rescued me and my friends from Kimberly’s craven clutches, so I couldn’t complain.

  I followed Ali down a hallway covered with historical photos of police staff. We ended up in the same interview room Gran and I had previously visited. The décor had not improved since our last foray. Kimberly sat at the battered white table with her hands in cuffs. A uniformed officer stood in the corner. He straightened his stance when we entered.

  Ali nodded at him. “Thanks, Gomez. I’ll handle this.” She started to sit but Kimberly protested.

  “No cops. This is private. Between the P.I. and me.”

  “No can do,” Ali said.

  “What about my right to an attorney?”

  “I’m sorry but I’m not a lawyer,” I explained.

  “Yeah, I realize that, but I don’t need a lawyer right now. I need a competent detective.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  Kimberly complimented me? My initial smile morphed into a frown. What kind of con was she trying to pull now?

  Kimberly lifted her manacled arms. “Look, Detective, I can’t hurt her with my hands and feet shackled. And I need her help.” She turned pleading cosmetic-free eyes on me. “Just hear me out for a few minutes. Please.”

  Darn. What would my husband do in this situation?

  Ali turned to me. “It’s your
call. Gomez and I will wait outside.” She winked at me, but I couldn’t tell what she was trying to convey. I looked around but didn’t see any signs of a secret mirror.

  The two officers left the room. I was alone with a killer. My initial curiosity dissipated as reality set in.

  “So what do you want from me?” I asked Kimberly.

  She leaned closer and for the first time I saw how her time in jail had aged her. She looked every one of her forty-plus years.

  “I want to hire you.”

  I sent her a scathing look. “To do what? You do recall threatening to shoot me and my friends.”

  “You practically destroyed my warehouse,” she snarled.

  I rose from my chair. “We’re done here.”

  She lifted her manacled arms. “Stay, please. I’m sorry I threatened you and held your friends hostage. Things got out of control and I overreacted.”

  “You think?”

  “How’s your friend doing? You know there’s no way I would have hurt her. I didn’t realize she was so far along.”

  “No thanks to you, Liz delivered a healthy baby boy.”

  Kimberly looked relieved. “Tell her congratulations.”

  I rolled my eyes. Honestly, this woman.

  “Here’s the deal. Hugo’s made a plea bargain with the District Attorney’s Office and now they have me up on a double murder charge for both Gino and Gregg.”

  I nodded. No surprise there.

  She continued, “I did not order a hit on Gino. Just a warning. It’s not my fault that idiot Hugo doesn’t know his own strength. And I absolutely did not kill Gregg.”

  “What made them finally charge you for Gregg’s murder?”

  “Marty went and changed his story. Initially, we alibied each other, since we were together at a breakfast meeting. But now he says he remembered I left for fifteen minutes to take a phone call.” Her eyes blazed in anger. “I think he’s still mad at me because during the meeting I threatened to sack him. Of course after Gregg died, I couldn’t afford to lose Marty as well.”

  “Marty seems very nice. Why did you want to get rid of him?”

  “He kept screwing up transactions. I had enough going on I didn’t have time to cajole his irate clients. I tried to be patient after his daughter’s suicide attempt, but that was almost three months ago. The guy needed to get a grip.”

  I put my hand up. “Wait a minute. One of Marty’s daughters tried to kill herself?”

  Kimberly nodded.

  “How horrible. Which daughter? Is she okay now?”

  Kimberly shrugged. “The eldest. She’s alive. Not sure how okay she is. I don’t know all the details, but it had something to do with a guy.”

  We both sighed and in unison said, “Doesn’t it always.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  My meeting with Kimberly ended a few minutes later. While she offered to pay double our normal rate to investigate her case, I wasn’t certain Tom or Bradford would be too keen on the idea. On the other hand, everyone deserves a fair trial, or in Kimberly’s situation, a thorough investigation.

  Although getting paid could be a challenge.

  I tried calling Tom but it went straight to voicemail. He and the kids were either engaged in a fun activity or else there wasn’t any cell coverage up there.

  What to do next? I could get a car service to take me to our condo and stretch out on a lounge. Or I could have them drive me to the timeshare office and find out why Marty’s and Kimberly’s stories differed. A more practical use of my time.

  My ride pulled up and a few short minutes later I was banging on the locked door of the timeshare office. I peered through the glass but didn’t see any sign of anyone moving around inside. Although, with one salesman dead and the manager locked up, that left a limited staff.

  I tried Tom’s cell again but still no answer.

  My stomach growled, reminding me it was well past noon. Riva Grille was down the street. I could grab a bite and return later to chat with Marty. I walked the block to the lakefront restaurant and was seated on the deck after only a short wait.

  The young server handed me a menu. I ordered an ice tea, reviewed the selections, and ended up with my usual—the BBQ chicken quesadilla. Yummy. I glanced out at the lake. Boats of all shapes, sizes and prices dotted the area. The marina next to the restaurant did not lack for business.

  I finished my meal, paid my bill and walked across the deck into the cool interior of the restaurant. Only a few guests dined inside. One family of five sat in the corner of the restaurant, the overhead light shining down on the patriarch’s strawberry blond hair and Hawaiian flowered shirt.

  Aha. I’d found Marty. Should have known he’d be at lunch. It was nice the way he squeezed in family time, even on workdays. I popped over to his table.

  “Will you be back in the office later today?” I asked him.

  “For you. Of course. Are you ready to buy a week or two?” he asked with a hopeful expression.

  I hated to dash his hopes, but I had an investigation to complete. “Not quite yet.” When his face fell almost into his salad, I added, “But as soon as I’ve finished with my investigation into Gregg’s death.”

  The eldest of Marty’s three daughters, the one I remembered was named Meghan, went pale. Her lip trembled as she asked, “Do you know who killed him?”

  Her mother threw a comforting hug around her daughter’s shoulders before glaring at me.

  Hey, what did I do?

  “I’m working on it,” I said to Meghan. “Your father’s boss, Kimberly, is in jail for Gregg’s murder, but she claims she didn’t do it.”

  The middle daughter pushed green-rimmed glasses up her freckled nose. “So you’re a detective, huh. Like Nancy Drew?”

  “Kind of,” I replied. “Except I don’t have a cool car.”

  She stared at me with the wisdom of an all-knowing middle school kid about to impart some valuable advice. “Gregg was a butthead. Ask my sister.” She elbowed Meghan, who immediately burst into tears.

  Wow. What was with that? The Fenton family dynamic was a little screwy.

  Marty gulped the remaining half of his cocktail, flagged down the server and asked for the bill. The youngest protested she’d been promised dessert, but he shut her down saying he had work to do. Mrs. Fenton gathered her daughters and with a quick goodbye to me and her husband set off with a trio of dejected girls trailing behind her.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to break up your lunch,” I said to Marty as he pulled some twenties out of his wallet.

  “No problem.” He stood and flicked his hand goodbye to me. I still wasn’t finished with my questions, so I trotted along beside him as we walked out of the restaurant.

  “Kimberly said you changed your story about meeting with her the morning Gregg was killed.”

  He shrugged. “So. I forgot she’d left the table to make her call. No big deal.”

  “She also mentioned you were away from the table when she returned.”

  “I visited the men’s room.” He stopped and put his arm on my elbow. “Are you always this annoying during an investigation? I thought you wanted to purchase a timeshare from me. You and your friend.” His voice escalated as he drew me down the sidewalk away from the valet attendants. “You were just leading me on, weren’t you?”

  I squirmed in his grip. “Not intentionally. Liz really is interested in purchasing a timeshare. I’m sure she’ll be in touch with you.”

  Marty mumbled and I leaned in. “Can’t trust anyone these days. Co-workers, clients, kids.” He dropped my elbow like it was a hot potato.

  I rubbed my elbow but couldn’t stop my inquisition. “Why was Meghan interested in finding Gregg’s killer?”

  He threw his hands up. “Girls. You raise them to do the right thing, send them off to college, then the next thing you know they let some jerk get them drunk and pregnant.” He leaned into me and I could smell whiskey on his breath. “I tried, but I couldn’t protect her f
rom him.”

  A tiny alarm shrieked in my exceedingly slow brain as the wheels began turning. “From him. You mean Gregg?”

  He stepped back, his eyes wild. “No, I mean—”

  I moved closer but I kept my voice low and comforting. “Gregg got your daughter pregnant, didn’t he? He really was a jerk.”

  Marty nodded, his breath shallow and fast. “When she told him she was pregnant, he gave her five hundred bucks and told her to take care of it and stop pestering him.” His face grew redder and redder. “How could he do that to her? He’d known her since she was a kid.”

  I guided Marty to a bench close to the marina. I stroked his arm, hoping to calm him down. “What a terrible thing for a young girl,” I said. “I bet it sent her into a huge depression.”

  He hung his head in his hands. I could almost feel the pain radiating throughout his body. I remembered the anger I felt when we caught Jenna’s hit-and-run driver. What would it be like to discover your co-worker had gotten your daughter pregnant, encouraged an abortion, all of what led to…

  “She tried to kill herself,” he said, lifting his head, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. “If I hadn’t come home early from work, she’d be gone. All because of that monster.”

  “I completely understand. And I’m sure the police will be sympathetic as well.”

  Marty’s head snapped toward me. “What? You’re going to turn me in to the police?”

  Uh, well, yeah. Or better yet, have Marty turn himself in.

  “It will be much easier if you go there of your own volition,” I explained.

  “I don’t think so,” he said before shoving me to the ground.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  Ouch. Thank goodness for the excess padding on my butt. I winced as I untangled my legs and slowly rose while trying to keep an eye on Marty. He sped across the parking lot far faster than I would have expected a pudgy middle-aged man to move. Before I could blink twice, he’d raced down the narrow wooden walkway leading to the marina. A man clad in swim trunks and his bikini-clad companion had just pulled their turquoise speedboat into a vacant spot along the pier. The woman jumped onto the dock, a thick rope in her hand. Marty rushed past her, leapt into the boat and knocked the man into the water. Then he turned on the ignition and took off.