Sinner or Saint
Page 10
Marlee drove over to Della’s part of town and parked on a side street so her vehicle would not be noticed by her nosy colleague. She was dressed in dark colors, including a stocking cap to cover her hair and a thick crocheted scarf to pull up around her face if needed.
She slunk up to Della’s house and moved around to the far side of her off-white Suburban. The barren shrubs partially blocked the view from the street, and the house was on the other side of Della’s vehicle. As long as no one walked or drove by, Marlee would be in the clear.
She unscrewed the cap from the tire stem and fished a large nail from her pocket. She inserted it into the stem and heard the whoosh as air gushed from the rear passenger tire. It took longer than Marlee thought it would to deflate the tire, but she accomplished it before being spotted.
Marlee quickly moved from Della’s driveway back onto the street, walking toward her own vehicle. A few feet from her car, she spotted Della walking her two dogs.
She turned to walk up another block, but it was too late. “Marlee, what the hell are you doing around here?” Della asked. “Did you come to visit me?” Her face lit up as she walked closer.
Marlee’s heart sank. It was too late to get away since Della already spotted her. Frack! Why does she always turn up wherever I go? Marlee thought as she gave a half-hearted wave in her colleague’s general direction.
Ever since Marlee had started teaching at MSU, Della had tried to forge a friendship, but Marlee resisted, sensing Della would stab you in the back if it suited her. Della was loud, judgmental, crude, and generally disliked by most of the faculty and plenty of the students. Other times, she was helpful and insightful. Marlee vacillated between being repulsed by Della and feeling sorry for her. She wanted to preserve her sanity and her own academic career, so hanging around Della wasn’t an option. But Marlee was a sucker for an underdog and always felt she should help Della get along with others. Every time Marlee had extended herself, Della managed to ridicule, humiliate, or embarrass her.
Taking a deep breath, Marlee said, “I was out for a walk and thought I’d swing by your place. It’s only twenty-seven blocks from my house, so...”
“C’mon in,” Della drawled as her two unruly dogs dragged her closer to her house. “Let me get these two settled, and then I’ll make us a drink!”
The only other time Marlee had been in the house was for Della’s fiftieth birthday party. She’d invited a bunch of her lady friends and encouraged everyone to bring their dogs. It was a colossal shit show with Della getting drunk off her ass and dogs racing around the living room and fighting under the dining room table.
Dog toys littered the hardwood floor in the living room. Della turned her dogs loose, and they jumped up on Marlee, pawing at her face and coat. The larger of the two dogs caught his claw in her crocheted scarf and snagged it, pulling a thread a foot away from the scarf before Marlee could untangle him.
“Rusty, git down!” Della yelled, not really meaning it since she was marching toward the kitchen, flinging off her hat and coat as she walked.
Marlee followed, opting to keep her coat and belongings with her for quick departure. She sat on an elevated stool at the bar, and Della pulled out a two-liter bottle of Coke and grabbed a jug of Jack Daniel’s from atop the refrigerator. She mixed the drinks in iced tea glasses and threw in a couple ice cubes.
“Cheers!” Della said as she raised her glass after sitting on the bar stool beside Marlee.
Marlee clinked glasses with her and took a sip of the concoction. It was strong enough to peel paint off a house, and Marlee sputtered as she fought to get it down the right pipe. “Whoa, that’s a stiff drink!”
“If you’re gonna take time to drink, you should drink like you mean it,” Della said, guzzling a third of the drink from the iced tea glass. “I suppose you came by to ask more questions about Conrad and your little friend from Ireland.”
“Yeah, I did,” Marlee said, although it hadn’t even crossed her mind to come to Della’s house to question her. Quickly warming to the idea, she asked, “So how long have you and Conrad been an item?”
“About two months, give or take. We met a while back, at your cousin’s art show in fact,” Della said, referring to the art, music, and media show that Marlee’s cousin, Bridget McCabe had organized prior to being charged with theft of a multi-million-dollar urn. “He asked me out, but I thought he was weird and told him to buzz off. He kept asking me out, and he started to grow on me a bit, so I told him I’d go on one date with him. Well, it turns out, we have a lot in common. I still think he’s a cuckoo bird, but we have fun together, and he’s nice to my dogs, so I can’t ask for more.” Della swiveled back and forth on the barstool, her short legs not touching the railing.
“Look, I know you said you don’t know a lot about Conrad’s collections and his imports, but Kelsey swears she was watching as Conrad dumped emeralds out of the antique pipe she brought from Dublin. She said you were watching and said they would be the answer to all your problems.” Marlee let her comments sit as Della took her time on her drink.
“What do you want from me? Huh? I’m almost at retirement age, and I’ve found the love of my life. All I want is to finish out my last few years at MSU, spend time with Conrad and my dogs, and be left alone.”
“I’m not looking to ruin anything for you, but I need to know about the emeralds. This whole thing goes a lot deeper than what’s going on in Elmwood. Hector was just looking into it as a favor to me, but the cops or the FBI could get involved at some point. I want to help Kelsey stay out of trouble, but I’d like to help you too. If you need help, that is,” Marlee said, beginning to feel a rush as the Jack Daniels kicked in.
The bar stool creaked as Della turned to glare at Marlee. “Why would I need your help? I told you I don’t know anything about emeralds or anything illegal.”
“Why would Kelsey say that about the emeralds and your comment?”
“Because she’s a pill popper,” Della stated matter-of-factly.
“And how do you know that?”
“Because you said so yourself this morning, when you met with your boyfriend and the Irish gal in your office,” Della said, grabbing for the Jack Daniel’s bottle and pouring more into her glass.
“I said she was using drugs. I never said anything about pills. Funny you should mention them specifically. You seem to know a lot about Kelsey and her problems,” Marlee countered.
“I’ve seen a lot of drug users in my time, and Kelsey fits the bill,” Della said. “It wasn’t too hard to figure out. With your background as a probation officer, I’d a thought you’d recognize the signs.”
Marlee nodded ruefully. “I’m surprised I missed them too.”
Della finished the remainder of her second drink and slid off the bar stool. “I suppose I should start fixing supper.” Marlee knew this was her invitation to leave, but she wasn’t going to take the hint so easily.
“Are you in trouble, Della? Did you get into some kind of a financial jam?” Marlee asked, wondering how emeralds could be the answer to her colleague’s problems, especially if she had a rich boyfriend who would gladly loan her money.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A chance for you to save poor old Della and be a hero?” A sneer spread across Della’s face, and her ice-cold eyes narrowed to slits. “Why don’t you try working on your own life and quit worrying about mine? Your cop ex-boyfriend looks like he’s ready to come back if you’ll have him. Mind your own business, and you won’t have to spend so much time worrying about others.”
She took a deep breath as she exited the kitchen, leaving a nearly full glass of Jack and Coke behind. No doubt Della would slam it as soon as Marlee left the house. She held her tongue until she got to the front door. “I know we have our differences, but if you need help, all you have to do is ask.”
Della waved her away and slammed the front door. As Marlee walked by the driveway, she saw the back tire on the Suburban was now flat as a pancake. A smil
e played across her face as she walked to the street. Won’t have to worry about Della crashing my visit with Conrad Thayer tonight, she thought.
Yes, I had a tour of the house and was quite frankly shocked by what I saw there.
Chapter 16
It was dark when Marlee pulled into the long, meandering driveway at Conrad Thayer’s lavish home. He’d made it big in the technology and gaming industries, and after cashing out, he moved to Elmwood, South Dakota to live a life of luxury. His grandparents had lived there and, as a boy, spent many summers in Elmwood. It was his nostalgia for the town that brought him back. The reality was that someone as flamboyant and eccentric as him was not readily accepted. People found him a curiosity, but not someone they would include at their Thanksgiving table.
The Dobermans weren’t skulking around the house, so Marlee figured they were inside being fed. She got out of her car and walked toward the front door. That was when she realized she’d made a very wrong assumption. The deep growling and barking had her wondering if she should run back to her vehicle or run to the front door. She was at the midway point and both options had drawbacks. As she was making her decision, the front door flew open and the front house lights flicked on.
“What’s going on out here?” Conrad shouted, as one does at their pets when they are causing a ruckus.
Marlee walked toward the house until she knew she was visible. “Conrad, it’s me, Marlee McCabe. I just wanted to visit with you for a bit.”
She knew Conrad didn’t like her, but she also knew he was lonely and liked having someone occupy his attention. He was a game player and liked to keep people on their toes. Sometimes he did this through his words and actions, while other times it was by his appearance. Tonight, he was dressed as a cowboy with an oversized felt hat, a western-cut black shirt with pearl button snaps, black cowboy boots with white stitching, white leather chaps, and red underwear.
“Ah, yes. I was expecting you,” he said, motioning her inside. He turned, and she got a view of his lumpy buttocks clad in the men’s version of red granny panties.
Eww, Marlee thought, making a face as she followed him inside. There was nothing more disgusting than an older man with a doughy physique showing off his posterior. As soon as Conrad turned around, she changed her mind. Seeing the front of him in his red underwear was worse yet.
“What can I get you to drink? I remember you being a fan of scotch on the rocks, is that right?” Conrad asked, referring to her drink order from a visit to his home a couple years back.
“I’m drinking lighter these days. Maybe juice with just a splash of vodka?” Marlee asked, averting her eyes as she spoke to Conrad. “Easy on the vodka.” There was no way she was going to overdo it with the alcohol tonight because she needed to stay sharp, as she had several questions for the eccentric millionaire.
“That’s a shame,” Conrad said, using his index finger to move the cowboy hat back further on his head. “I like to think one should intensify their bad habits as they get older.”
Marlee chuckled at his attempt to play cowboy, no doubt from old westerns he watched as a kid. Conrad handed her a vodka and orange juice and poured himself a double scotch with one rock. He motioned for her to sit on the couch, and he settled in on a wing-backed chair.
“Ahhh,” he sighed after his first long drink. “I do love cocktail hour. Don’t you?”
“Sure do.” Marlee sipped her drink, realizing she hadn’t watched closely as Conrad prepared it. For all she knew, he’d slipped a pill into it. She wasn’t afraid he’d attack her if she got tipsy, but knew he’d find a way to use the situation against her. As she faked a sip of the drink, she decided to leave nothing to chance with this guy.
Conrad rustled around inside the drawer of the end table next to his chair and produced a pipe which he packed with tobacco and lit with a long-nosed lighter normally used to ignite fireplaces and outdoor grills. Upon closer inspection, Marlee saw that it was the same pipe Kelsey had smuggled to Elmwood.
“I thought that was an antique,” she said pointedly.
“It is, but what’s the use of having something if you can’t use it? Just last week, I wore that around the house for a few hours.” Conrad pointed to a full suit of armor standing in the corner. “It’s worth more than you probably earn in three years, but I wanted to enjoy the experience of wearing it.”
“That would be the envy of all my fellow professors down at the poor house,” Marlee snapped before she remembered she needed to stay on his good side to get information. Conrad loved to throw his riches in the faces of others, especially government employees who, in his estimation, were one step away from poverty’s doorstep.
To her relief, Conrad didn’t take offense. He threw his head back and emitted a hearty laugh, enjoying the verbal sparring with someone of quick wit. “I enjoy your sense of humor, Ms. McCabe, er, excuse me, Dr. McCabe.”
“So, you and Della are an item. How long has that been going on?” Marlee was going to do her best not to let Conrad bait her. She was there to gain information, not engage in a verbal sparring match.
“It’s been a while now. Six months, I guess.”
She noted that Conrad’s estimation of the duration of the relationship was much greater than Della’s. “Well, you two seem like a good couple, and I’m happy for you.”
“Della called earlier and said you were asking a bunch of questions about us. She thinks you’re jealous.” He settled back in his chair and raised his drink, never taking his eyes off Marlee.
Restraining herself from telling Conrad how gross that sounded was the hard part. She smiled at him and let the comment pass. “So how did you pair up with Ian O’Sullivan?”
His eyes widened, and he set the pipe down on the end table, letting it smolder. “I’ve known Ian for years. He’s helped me locate and import several items for my collections.”
“And the emeralds?” Marlee asked raising her glass to her mouth and faking another sip.
“There are no emeralds, my dear. Your little Irish friend is a liar and a drug addict. Neither of those things bode well for her character. I have never dealt with emeralds or any other type of jewels and never will unless they are obtained and shipped legally.”
“You expect me to believe that you will have an antique pipe smuggled into the country but not jewels? Your ethics are determined by the items you pay to have brought to you?” Marlee suppressed a smile, knowing damned well that Conrad Thayer would smuggle human remains into the country if they fit within one of his cornball collections.
Before he could open his mouth to speak, the dogs raised a commotion outside with their incessant barking. Conrad leapt to his feet and strode to the door, only slightly off balance from the drink he consumed since Marlee arrived as well as countless others before that.
By the time Marlee arrived at the door behind Conrad, she was met by one of the last people she expected to see that night.
Marlee’s cousin, Bridget McCabe, stood at the front door, her right hand scratching the chin of one of the Dobermans while the other dog rested near her feet. “Hope you don’t mind me popping over uninvited,” she said, glancing at Conrad as she strode by him.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were at a conference in Minneapolis,” Marlee said, dumbfounded that her cousin would have reason to visit Conrad Thayer. In the past, he accused Bridget of stealing his antique urn valued at over a million dollars. Why on Earth would Bridget have anything to do with him now? Marlee thought.
Bridget sauntered in like she owned the place. She tossed her long, dark curls over her shoulder as she looked back toward her cousin. “My presentation was yesterday, and there weren’t any sessions I wanted to sit in on today, so I drove back from The Cities. I stopped by your house and met your new roommate. She was drinking wine and volunteered quite a bit of information about herself, which led me to guess you might be here. Then I saw your car in the driveway and knew I was right.”
The trio settled back
into the sitting room, Conrad, ever the host, served Bridget her requested gin and tonic. “What the hell are you wearing?” Bridget asked Conrad, staring at his underwear and chaps combo.
“I like to dress up to amuse myself. Besides, I suspected I’d have company tonight.” Conrad sat back in the chair he occupied earlier, throwing his right ankle across his left knee, leaving little to the imagination.
“It’s obscene,” Bridget said, rising to grab a tartan blanket draped across a chair back and threw it across Conrad’s lap.
Just as he was getting ready to chastise Bridget for telling him what to wear in his own house, another commotion was heard outside the front door. Before Conrad could rise to find out what was happening, Della barged in with a key in hand. Rushing along ahead of her were her two untrained dogs. They ran at top speed through the foyer and into the sitting room where the smaller of the two dogs brushed against the suit of armor, nearly toppling it to the ground. The dogs chased each other in a circle then fled the room and raced upstairs. A loud crash was audible as was the whine of a dog.
“I’ll go see what happened,” said a smiling Conrad as he gave Della a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving the room. He was completely unbothered by the fact that Della’s two rambunctious canines could and probably would demolish many of his valuable collectibles.
Della marched up to Marlee, her stocking cap askew on her head. “You bitch! I knew you’d be over here.”
“Why would you think that, Della?” Bridget moved behind Marlee, ready to act as backup in case the five-foot-nothing Della sprang into fight mode.
Della directed her comments to Bridget, preferring not to look at Marlee. “Because your lying cousin came over to my house acting like we were friends. She asked a bunch of questions about me and Conrad, so I knew she was jealous. Marlee’s never been able to hold on to any guy for very long, so I figured she’d try to get mine.”