I’d just finished telling Kim that McCrary was coming to the house when Kate opened the door with the key I gave her.
“What’s with the long faces?” She glanced at the last of the cheesecake crumbs and gave an exaggerated eye roll. “Whoa. This looks serious. The two of you finished half a cheesecake?”
Kim shook her head and pointed to me. “Nope. Cami finished it all by herself.”
31
KATE FIXED ME WITH one of her intense emerald stares. “Half a cheesecake? By yourself? That’s not good—what’s going on?”
I have to admit by that time I was pretty much of a basket case, so without sticking to how I’d planned to tell her about the day’s events, I blurted out, “I think they’re looking at me as a suspect in Cunningham’s murder!”
“No way. Why you practically take insects out so you don’t have to kill them. You would never—“
“Of course, I wouldn’t. But a homicide detective named McCrary is coming over about five-thirty to interview me. What does that sound like? Frankly, I’m really nervous about where it could go.”
You know how sometimes even silence sounds loud? Well, that’s what the room was like for a few moments while Kate digested what I’d said. Kim didn’t say a word either. It was as though everyone was waiting for the others to say something. I had turned on the ceiling fan in my living room earlier. Now, the only thing breaking that awful silence was the gentle whoosh of the blades.
Finally Kim, the voice of reason, said, “I need to tell both of you what I learned about the money laundering investigation today, but”—she glanced at her watch—“considering the homicide detective will be here shortly, let’s deal with Cami’s problem instead. First of all, we’re really not sure they think Cami is a suspect, so we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Let’s think this through. Here are the negatives. You had the confrontation with Jonathan Reid in the coffee shop and shouted what could be construed as a death threat in front of witnesses.”
I had to clarify. “It was more a figure of speech saying the best place for them would be dead. I didn’t—“
Kate interrupted. “Of course you didn’t mean it literally, or at least I can’t imagine that you did, but unfortunately most of those witnesses don’t know you. So, if any of them are questioned in the event you become a suspect, they will say what they heard.”
It was hard being forced to review what the past few weeks had been like. I tried to step outside the picture and view my actions as someone who didn’t know me. I didn’t like what I saw.
Kim continued. “There was the time Cunningham forced his way into your office and destroyed part of your Forever Young presentation. Then the argument at his office and other signs of the hostility between you two, so those are the most damning things. We need to come up with reasonable explanations for each of them. Cami, is that something we can do?”
To tell the truth, I really wasn’t sure. How could I expect a homicide detective with a gruff voice to understand the hurt and humiliation I’d felt when I’d been fired by voicemail with no notice some years before? I put everything I had into building their business for years, and that was how they thanked me. How could he understand my determination to make them pay after I opened my own agency? Would the very explanations make him doubt my innocence in the whole matter? It was a real mess.
Kate was used to setting the stage for things. We agreed that my best option would be to tell the truth. But she also felt I shouldn’t look too slick. In other words, play down the savvy businesswoman if I could, and that began with my appearance. She was good at issuing instructions and managing things.
“Go up and wash your face. Tone down the makeup, wear something like simple jeans and a white shirt. We want to make you look as non-threatening as possible.”
She was right. My makeup was always perfect and glamorous, and that day I wore one of my favorite outfits—AG designer cropped cheetah-print pants, stilettos and a sexy knit top. When I came back down I looked fresh-faced and had traded the animal print pants for some faded Levis and one of Milt’s white shirts with the sleeves rolled up. Instead of the stilettos I wore flats. I’d brushed my hair so it looked a little messed up. I definitely looked very innocent. Blondes can do that, I’ve discovered.
Kim said, “Perfect. Even though I have time to fill both of you in on my day, I suggest we just chill. Cami, I want your mind as clear as possible when he gets here. There’s plenty of time for me to tell you about my day after he leaves.”
I tried to be lighthearted. “Preferably he does not leave with me in handcuffs.”
Thank goodness for the two of them. Kate simply said, “Not funny. You are not going to be arrested. You have to go into this with a positive mind.”
Of course she was right. Attitude means everything, so I did my best to relax while I waited for the Columbo-clone to arrive.
He appeared at my door promptly at five-thirty. I find it very interesting that we draw images of what we imagine a person will be like from things like a name or a voice on the phone. Detective McCrary was as different from Columbo as Woody Allen is from Brad Pitt. The man at my door stood about six-foot-two, give or take an inch or so. I could see that he was well-built beneath his dark gray suit and want to add it was nothing like the rumpled suit and decrepit trench coat I’d expected. No, this was a very attractive man who appeared to be around late thirties or early forties, hazel eyes, slightly long brown hair with sun streaks. He wore an engaging smile.
“Miss Harsen? I’m Detective McCrary. May I come in?”
That gruff voice was still there and definitely did not match the man. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’m just getting over laryngitis. Could I bother you for a glass of water?”
I know it sounds dumb, but at that very moment I felt tongue-tied. Where was the person I’d prepared myself for?
“Of course. Come in. Have a seat.” I indicated one of the comfortable chairs. Before sitting, he pulled out his official wallet and shield.
“Thanks. By the way, you should ask to see credentials. You know, just to be sure the person is who they say they are.”
Kate gave him an appraising look, and I saw a little more interest than sizing up a detective. She said, “Stay put, Cami. I’ll get Detective McCrary a glass of water. Lemon, Detective?”
He thanked her but said plain water would be fine and settled into the chair.
“Let me tell you why I’m here, Miss Harsen. As I’m sure you know by now, your former boss Mr. Cunningham was found murdered this morning. I would like to ask you about some confrontations between you, Mr. Cunningham and his partner Mr. Reid. As I mentioned on the phone, you originally came to our attention because your name was on the after-hours log and we are questioning everyone on last night’s log. What I didn’t say was Mr. Cunningham’s associate, Mr. Reid, emphatically insisted we talk to you. He alluded to a feud between you and his partner and his suspicions about you.”
There it was—what I’d been afraid of. Reid had pointed the finger at me.
32
WHEN I GLANCED OVER at Kim her expression told me she wasn’t about to let this guy play cat and mouse with me.
She said, “Detective McCrary, out of all the people who might have been in the building last night, I’d like to know what made you think it was urgent enough to come here this evening to question my friend Cameron. Couldn’t this have waited until tomorrow? If you have information that set your senses tingling, I’m not going to stand by and let you play games with her, so let’s have it.”
Kim made it clear to him she had my back.
McCrary’s tone turned harsh with a sharp edge intended to intimidate. “Well, Ma’am, what makes you think you can dictate what I do or make demands?”
Kim reached over to her purse and withdrew a small case. She made a big show of extracting one of her business cards. “Let me introduce myself, Detective McCrary. As you can see, I’m a Director with the Federal Bureau of Prisons, which falls under
the Department of Justice. I am requesting you to drop the charade and give it to us straight. If not, perhaps I should call my husband and have him make the request.”
McCrary’s handsome face took on an air of arrogance. He got up from his chair, pulled himself up to his full height and strode over to Kim, making it clear that he was invading her space.
“Okay, Director, with all due respect I understand your concern for your friend, but I have a job to do. I can’t imagine why talking to your husband would make any difference to me.”
She returned the smug smile. “Well, perhaps you recognize the name Nathan Hartman.”
A little taken back, he replied, “Um, of course. That’s the name of our U.S. Attorney General, but I don’t see why should that matter?”
“It matters, Detective McCrary, because the Attorney General is my husband and a close, longtime friend of Miss Harsen. I don’t think he will take kindly to this game of dodge ball. I’m asking you politely to please say what you have on your mind.”
His face darkened as though a storm had passed through. His tone was as cold as ice. “Good bluff, Director, but I think I’d have to hear it from him, if he really is your husband. We have our procedures, you know.”
Kim calmly reached for her cell phone, put it on speaker and hit a number.
Nathan’s voice sounded cheerful. “Hey, Honey, this is a surprise. What’s up?”
“Darling, I have you on speaker. There’s an LAPD homicide detective who wants to question Cami in connection with the murder of her former boss, but he seems to be playing games. I’d like you to tell him to just play it straight. First of all, though, tell him who you are.”
“Okay, if you say so. Detective you’re talking to U.S. Attorney General Nathan Hartman. What seems to be the problem?”
She clicked off the speaker and handed the phone to McCrary who looked as surprised as a prize fighter who had been sucker punched. After speaking to Nathan for a few minutes, McCrary showed a definite change of attitude.
When he resumed questioning me I tried to stay as calm as possible. Nathan must have said something to him, because he was no longer hard-hitting or evasive. Instead, his attitude was more like the almost clueless approach I’d envisioned a Columbo-type detective would use when they try to get you to slip up. But, that shift didn’t fool me. I felt I was still on his radar and kept glancing at Kim and Kate. From their expressions I assumed I was doing okay. Otherwise they would have interrupted.
And so it went. He led me through everything Jonathan Reid had so graciously shared with him. The fact that I was bitter when Cunningham fired me by voicemail years before, that I set up my agency one floor above them as a form of revenge, my altercation with Reid in the Century Cafe, and the confrontations with Cunningham. I have to say, if I were the interrogator I wouldn’t have thought it looked too good for me. But, my friends didn’t seem that disturbed.
Finally Kate said, “It looks like Mr. Reid gave you pretty good reasons Cami would have wanted Cunningham dead. But, he also has his own reason to want to see her out of the way. Ever since she set up her agency, it has taken a toll on their clients. Did he mention that?”
McCrary leaned forward and arched an eyebrow. “Toll? What do you mean?”
I could see a triumphant light in Kate’s eyes. Of course the bastard had given Detective McCrary selective information. She cleared her throat and gave me a meaningful look.
“Well, first of all, she made a deep cut into their profitability. You see, many of their clients moved their accounts to Harsen Advertising when their contracts ran out. She has only had her own business a few years, but it’s an award-winning agency. Reid/Cunningham was Tyler Cunningham’s sole business, but Cami told us that for Jonathan Reid it is just one of many holdings. He is obviously younger than Cunningham and far wealthier. He has a reputation for being a very sharp businessman with his fingers in multiple pies, so to speak. Not only that, but he lives a lavish bachelor’s lifestyle.”
“And you know all of that how, Ms. Steele?”
“All you have to do is pick up any number of magazines. The man is obsessed with success, money and his image, and reporters love him. He’s been profiled in everything from Business Week to Playboy. In this case, I wouldn’t doubt his main agenda is to make sure you conclude that Cami had reason and opportunity to want his partner, and maybe him, dead. But that doesn’t mean she did it. I believe he would love to have her out of the way.”
Kim was done messing around. “Are you going to arrest her?”
Why did she have to ask him that? I was in a bad enough mental state already without her saying the “A” word out loud. I don’t look good in stripes. Oh, yeah. I think they wear orange jumpsuits now, and it isn’t my color. I began to wring my hands. Might as well just stick them out in front of me and be led away. This was it. I was going to jail.
McCrary laughed, then flashed a smile full of straight white teeth that gleamed like a toothpaste ad. Whatever amused him wasn’t funny to me. I didn’t see the humor in being suspected of murder.
“Not so quick,” he said in a somewhat raspy voice. “Kim—may I call you that? I’d like to keep this meeting friendly, on a first-name basis.”
She nodded.
“Your husband made it pretty clear I’m to carefully consider if I should look at Cameron as a suspect. Therefore, I might re-evaluate the information from Jonathan Reid. At this point, this is only preliminary questioning. So—no, your friend is not under arrest. In fact, I think she might be helpful in giving me information about others who might have had it out for this victim. After all she did know him for many years and Jonathan Reid seemed a bit too quick to make her a suspect—like it was wrapped up in a big bow. There were many others in the building last night, and maybe someone who wasn’t on that log might have had motive.”
I exhaled slowly. “Thank you Detective. I will be happy to tell you anything you want to know. I swear I didn’t shoot him.”
McCrary looked a bit confused. “Shoot him? Who told you that? We didn’t release the method of murder to the press.”
Oh Lord. I’d done it again. Assumed he was shot, because that is so often the way people get killed on TV. Now it was one more nail in my coffin, as that saying goes. Why did I have to blurt that out just when it seemed things had taken a little turn for the better?
“I, oh—I just assumed he was shot.”
McCrary shook his head. “Relax. Don’t worry. He wasn’t shot, but I’m not at liberty to say how he was killed.”
He thanked us and got up to leave. “I’ll be in touch. In the meanwhile, please make a list of anyone you think might have had it in for him enough to kill him. Try to put together as much information about each of them as you can. I’m sure you know not to leave town. Good night.”
After McCrary closed the door Kim said, “Good thing Nate answered his cell. I have to admit I was concerned for a minute, but I think you’re okay for now.”
All I could say was, “I’ve got chocolate éclairs in the freezer. Just takes a few minutes to defrost them. Let me do that. Then let’s hear what you learned today, Kim.”
We are such sweets junkies. Chocolate cures all, or at least I feel like it is supposed to. It was definitely a chocolate cure moment.
33
CHOCOLATE ÉCLAIRS ALWAYS remind me of my mother. When I was a kid she was a stay-at-home mom, complete with the apron, homemade cookies and pastries. She made mouth-watering éclairs from scratch—the flaky pastry, the chocolate frosting and even the custard filling. Maybe that accounts for my thing with chocolate.
Anyway, we really perked up when Kim told us what transpired. Nathan successfully pushed through the temporary clearance, and we would be working as a team again. That was the only reason she was allowed to share the information.
The plan was for us to present ourselves as the management team of a fake company. I would pose as a capable but slightly ditzy operations executive who could ask seemingly innocent
questions and get important answers. Kim’s role would be the financial management member of the trio, and Kate using all of her persuasive skills, the CEO so she could sell the sizzle of our phony business proposal.
I’m getting ahead of myself, though, because you have to know how this shopping expedition fit into a money laundering operation.
The had FBI created Las Ropas Exclusivo, a fake clothing wholesale business with offices in Los Angeles and Mexico City, literally overnight. Kim held out two small boxes of business cards showing Kate as Katherine Marsh, CEO and me as Cameron Wolf, Chief Operating Officer. Kim’s cards identified her as Kimberly Patterson, Chief Financial Officer. Our proper first names were kept to avoid the sticky moments that could occur if we didn’t remember who we were supposed to be.
We were to target three of the businesses Stephanie had responsibility to monitor. Businesses that were suspect but had not yet been scheduled for raids. Indications were they could be big players in the whole operation and at this point would be fed false information. As for Stephanie, she was definitely facing charges although no action had been taken so far. When she admitted someone with huge influence arranged for her to get that job, the rest of the conversation made us think her benefactor was not the man who was paying for her information. It appeared he was shielded by layers of people in between and she never communicated with him directly. Kim told us Director Kincaid said the trick was to penetrate that shield.
Kim took a bite of a second éclair. “Ummm. These are so good.” She licked chocolate frosting off her lips. “Well, back to business. Be prepared to be stunned by how clever this operation is.”
“Stunned? Kate glanced at her new business card. I can’t wait to see where Las Ropas Exclusivo fits into all of this. According to my high school Spanish, our company is Exclusive Clothing or something like that.”
Payback Page 12
