Act Normal, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 9

by William Manchee

asked.

  "No. But he not happy with me. I know that."

  "Was he having another affair, maybe?"

  "No. That not bother him. Something else wrong."

  "Tell me about the abduction?" Stan asked.

  "He tell me he going to pick up kids from school on Friday afternoon. That big surprise but I not complain 'cause I like go shopping. Hard to do with three kids.

  "When I get home at four he and kids not there. At quarter to five I call school to see if any problems, but they tell me Gabe already picked up kids right on time.

  "I not scared since I figure Gabe just took them to dinner or for snack. When he not home by seven-thirty, I call police."

  "What did they say?" I asked.

  "They say since kids with father they not do nothing yet. They say call back after twenty-four hours. By eight when they not back, I know something wrong."

  "So, what makes the police think you had anything to do with their disappearance?" Stan asked.

  "Gabe took out a big policy just before he go away—two million dollars on him and two hundred thousand dollars on each of the kids."

  "Jeez! I hope that was his idea," Stan said.

  "Yes, not my idea. He say he want to know I okay if he die."

  "How did he buy the insurance?" Stan asked.

  "I called agent and he come to house. You know, you're in good hands with Allstate."

  I stifled a chuckle. "You set up the appointment? That kinda looks bad."

  "Yes it does," Stan muttered. "So, I assume they haven't found any bodies."

  "No, no bodies. Just found Gabe's car on side of road near lake."

  "What lake?"

  "Tawaki."

  "Tawakoni?"

  Charlotte nodded. "Right. Right. Lake Tawakoni."

  "How did it get there?"

  "They say I dump bodies somewhere and leave car on side of road. They—" Charlotte’s voice broke up and she started to sob. "They . . . they think bodies picked clean by vultures and bones scattered all over hills by coyotes."

  "Oh, my God," I said. "That's horrible. Why do they think that?"

  "I not know. They say it clever plan." She closed her eyes and began sobbing again.

  "Charlotte," I asked. "You say none of this is true, right?"

  Her eyes narrowed. "It not true! Do you think I kill my own children?"

  "No, of course not, but they must have some evidence," I said. "Are you sure you've told us everything?"

  "Yes, I tell all."

  "You didn't hire someone to kill your husband? A contract killer, maybe?"

  "No. There no contract killer!" Charlotte protested. "What you talking about?"

  "I heard from a reliable source that you approached someone about killing your husband," I said tentatively.

  Charlotte shook her head vigorously. "No! I not hire nobody to kill my husband. That wrong."

  Stan glared at me. I shrugged. "Bart said they had a witness who claimed she contacted him about killing her husband. Ah, maybe he was mistaken; I don't know."

  Stan thought for a moment and then looked at Charlotte. “Is it possible that you might have complained to somebody about your husband and they—"

  "No. Not possible. I talk to no one."

  "Okay. It could just be a jail house snitch trying to get some time off his sentence. Don't worry about it. We'll find out who it is and figure out why he's lying."

  "Why someone lie about me? It not right."

  We talked for some time after Charlotte had left. Before we were through I confronted Stan about taking the Wenzel case.

  "You knew Bart was prosecuting the case?" I asked.

  Stan took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but a friend of hers contacted me and asked me to represent her. I told him no, but he insisted. He paid me . . . I mean us, a big retainer."

  "How much?" I asked.

  "A hundred grand and if that runs out there will be more. We needed the money and I needed a case to work on to get back on track. I felt badly about Bart, but I knew he'd get another case. It wouldn't affect his salary. He'd just be reassigned. I hope you'll forgive me."

  I signed. "It's just that this was Bart's first big case. He was really starting to sink his teeth into it."

  Stan shook his head. "I know. But the client was insistent and how often do you get three hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cash dropped in your lap."

  "Three hundred and fifty thousand! I thought you said a hundred grand."

  "He put up the bond money too. I hope when they arrest her, it's enough."

  I thought about it. "She's a housewife, owns a home, no priors. I couldn't imagine any judge asking for more."

  "Well, if they do, we can get it. I just don't want her spending any time in jail. . . . What's this about a contract killer? I can't believe Charlotte would do that. How would she know where to find somebody like that?"

  "I don't know. It's just what Kramer told Bart. I'll call Shepard right now and see if he'll tell me who the snitch is."

  When I got back to my office I put a call into Gary Shepard. He answered on the first ring and I told him who it was. He seemed to be in a very good mood and said he was glad I’d called.

  "I guess you heard Stan and I have been retained to defend Charlotte Wenzel."

  "Yes," Shepard said. "I was surprised you'd taken the case. It seemed to have caught Bart by surprise too. Don't you two ever talk?"

  "Sure, it was a mix-up. Stan took the case not realizing Bart was the prosecutor."

  "Really? So, are you doing it pro bono? She doesn't have a dime as I understand it."

  "Well, our fee arrangement shouldn't concern you. What matters is we're on the case and we intend to protect her rights. She told us about the eight-hour interrogation."

  "She did, huh. So what? We had a right to question her."

  "Maybe, but not to coerce and harass her. . . . And what's this about her hiring a contract killer? I heard you had a witness."

  "Bart told you about that?"

  "Yes, and I want his identity so we can talk to him."

  "Sorry. Can't give it to you," Shepard said smugly.

  "Why not? We have a right to it."

  "Because there is no snitch."

  "Huh?" I said weakly. “But why would Bart have told me there was a snitch then?”

  “Because he’s a spy for your law firm, obviously. I suspected it the first time I met him. Then, when I started investigating your past history with this office, well, I knew he’d tell you.”

  My stomach turned. Oh, my God! We’d been set up. “You fed Bart bogus information?" I said angrily.

  "Yes," Shepard snickered.

  I let my hand drop and just stared at the telephone in disbelief. Who was this bastard? Why did he hate us so much? I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. Finally, I lifted the receiver to my ear and said curtly, "So what? You'd have to tell us eventually anyway."

  "Not if we didn't intend to call him." Shepard spat. “We’re on to your tricks, Paula. If you want information from this office you'd better go through proper discovery. They'll be no more favors to you. And, if you approach an employee of this office again looking for inside information, I'll file a grievance with the State Bar and ask the judge to impose sanctions."

  I didn't say anything. My stomach was in a knot and I could scarcely breathe.

  "Is that clear, Ms. Waters?" Shepard pressed.

  I still couldn't talk and finally hung up the phone without saying goodbye. What was going on? In all the years I'd practiced I'd never run across such blatant hostility from an opponent. After I'd caught my breath, I called Bart. "Honey, you won't believe what just happened to me."

  "Really, well it couldn't have been as bad as what just happened to me," he said in a low tone.

  "What?" I asked.

  "I just got fired! And the DA is considering filing charges against me for obstruction of justice in leaking information to you."

  "Oh, my God, honey. Shepard is a demon. I
can't believe he deliberately set us up."

  "Yeah, well he did and now I don't have a job because of your partner. Damn him! I really liked working for the DA’s office. Now what am I going to do? I'll never be able to get a decent job again without a good reference from them! I’m going to kill your partner."

  The phone went dead. Oh, God! What had I done? I hung up the phone and raced back to Stan's office. He was on the phone so I sat down and anxiously waited for him. Seeing my obvious distress, he cut short his conversation and hung up the telephone.

  "Paula, what's wrong?"

  "Stan, oh God, what have I done?"

  I explained what had happened and how Bart had fallen into Shepard's trap.

  "I've never met Gary Shepard," he said, "but I'd heard from some acquaintances in Houston that he was a piece of work. He's really shown his hand by going for the juggler in the first round. He obviously isn't a gentleman, that's for sure. We'll have to be very careful and vigilant in the future."

  I buried my head in my hands struggling not to cry.

  "It's not your fault," Stan said. "This mess is on me. It was totally avoidable. I shouldn't have sent you off to call Bart without giving the situation more thought. We panicked a little and it cost us. I just didn't see Ralston permitting such underhanded tactics. It's not like him. This new guy Shepard obviously is some kind of Rambo prosecutor."

  "Maybe, but he's pissed off the wrong broad," Paula said, her voice cracking. "He'll pay for this, I promise you."

  "I'm sure he will, but in the meantime I want you to stay clear of him. Let me deal with him."

  I didn't respond. My mind was far away and I couldn't concentrate. I excused myself to call Bart. He'd never hung up on me before and I was worried that I might not be able to repair the damage that had been done to our marriage. He wasn't at home and he didn't answer his cell phone, so I left a message. Where could he be?