Evelyn David - Sullivan Investigations 02 - Murder Takes the Cake (19 page)

“
Bridget,” came another warning from the backseat. “Camille and I both agreed we needed to see other people. I was not dumped.”

“
Sure,” Bridget continued. “Anyway, some of my friends knew a couple of his pals, yadda yadda, and long story short, Josh decided, upon seeing me, that life was worth living.”

Josh made a choking sound.
“Well, that’s not quite how I remember it.”

“
And exactly what part of that story is incorrect?” She looked in the rearview mirror and caught her fiancé‘s eyes.

Josh reached forward and squeezed Bridget
‘s shoulder. “I was drinking boilermakers and she dumped me three weeks earlier.”

Bridget offered a mock salute.
“I stand corrected.”

Mac thought for a moment and asked,
“And you met before the first story on police corruption was published?”

“
Absolutely. I was working on this investigation when we met and that was six months ago. The first story wasn’t published until three months later. I got some cop grumblings immediately, but nothing scary. The real threats started about a month ago. I got engaged and a death threat in the same week. Luckily, I had all this wedding hoopla to divert my attention, right honey?”

Josh sneezed three times in a row, but bobbed his head in agreement.

“But you waited almost three weeks before calling me,” Mac snapped.

“
I told you. I wasn’t sure what was happening. I didn’t want to over-react,” Bridget countered.

“
I offered to have Lion’s Paw investigate. They’re equipped to deal with threats and security issues,” Josh offered from the backseat.

“
Who or what is Lion’s Paw?” Mac asked.

“
Lion’s Paw or LP Security is one of the largest risk management firms in the world. My family owns a big stake in the company.”

Bridget checked the rearview mirror again and glared when she caught Josh
‘s face. “I know Uncle Mac can figure this out. LP is huge and doesn’t pay attention to these kinds of smaller cases.”

“
They would if my father had called,” Josh insisted.

“
Oh yeah.” Bridget’s voice rose. “If they acted as fast on this as they did on your background request, I’d be dead by now.”

Mac winced at his goddaughter
‘s choice of words, but then focused on a few of them. “Wait a minute. You mean you had someone investigate Bridget before you got engaged?”

The couple erupted in laughter.

“Of course not,” Josh finally squeaked.

Bridget pulled the car to a stop in front of Mac
‘s office building. “Josh is trying to find some information on his birth parents.”

“
I applied for additional life insurance and I can’t give a family medical history,” Josh explained. “Plus, I’ve always been curious.”

“
So his Dad is having LP search for his birth parents, but so far, they’ve turned up nothing.”

“
I’m going to follow up when we get back to Boston,” Josh added. “My Dad’s been swamped with the wedding and business, of course.”

“
Do you have any information at all on your birth parents?” Mac asked. “Where were you born?”

“
It was a private adoption, through an attorney my parents knew. I was born right here in D.C., but that’s about all the lawyer was willing to share. My folks wanted a baby badly, especially my Mom. Quite frankly, they’d been trying for a couple of years so they didn’t ask any questions. The birth mother signed the papers, the birth father couldn’t be found, and at six weeks, I became Joshua Lasky.”

“
I could make some inquiries,” Mac offered.

“
No need. LP is looking into it, but thank you. You concentrate on Bridget.”

Josh got out of the car, followed closely by Whiskey. The dog went to a straggly tree and did her business, then waited patiently as Josh helped Mac emerge gingerly from the front seat.

“Josh, can you help Uncle Mac get inside?” Bridget asked.

Checking his watch again, Josh looked pointedly at his fiancée.

Mac waved them off. “Thanks, but I’m not quite that much of an invalid no matter what Rachel says. You get going to your wedding planning. Thanks for the ride.”

Josh quickly slid into the front seat and they drove off.

Mac eyed the steep staircase to his second floor office, then remembered the new elevator the building management had installed. “Come on girl. I know you’re not crazy about elevators, but pushing some buttons is a lot easier than climbing.”

***

“Now I’m only missing three? That can’t be right.” Rachel checked her inventory list again. “The Venetian bronze is back. How in the world….”

It was on a bottom rack. If it had been there the other day, she would have seen it. She looked closer. No scratches that she could see. She wondered….

The security systems installer was happy to help her. Between the two of them they were able to move the casket from the rack onto a wheeled table. Rachel opened the lid.

The smell was terrible.

The dead rat lying on the satin had been there awhile.

Chapter 15

“
It could have been natural causes. What are the odds?”

Rachel looked at the swollen ball of fur resting in the quart-sized baggie. It wasn
‘t as elegant as its previous resting place, but she was absolutely positive Jeff wasn’t going to donate a $3000 casket for a rodent’s burial.

She
‘d called Jeff’s cell phone, but it went straight to voice mail. Her second call had been to his home where she’d talked with Sean. The kid had made her repeat the message twice about the casket and the rat. And he still wanted to see it for himself. Rachel didn’t blame him. Even she was beginning to think she was hallucinating. The disappearing and reappearing casket was beyond belief.

The security systems guy was upstairs making some final connections. He was going to show her how to arm and disable the alarm as soon as he finished. Since Sean was coming over, she might as well have him show the teen the system too. Heaven knows she wasn
‘t any good with electronics.

Taking the body upstairs with her, she contemplated her next move. Mac might want the rat as evidence. But evidence of what? The funeral home was an old structure. She
‘d never seen any mice or rats, but it was possible one wandered in. What she couldn’t figure out was how it got inside the casket. Or for that matter, where the casket had been.

“
Mrs. Brenner?”

Sean made good time. She didn
‘t remember ever seeing him react that fast about anything. Nothing like a mystery to get a kid’s attention.

“
Hi, Sean. Want a look at the corpse?” She held out the plastic bag.

“
Gross.” He didn’t touch the bag, but did bend forward to take a better look. “It was in one of the caskets downstairs?”

“
Yeah. One of the caskets that’s been missing. Someone brought it back.”

Sean paled.
“Are you sure? Maybe you didn’t count them right the first time.”

“
Nope.” Rachel shook her head. “It was gone and now it’s not. I don’t know if your father is going to be happier that it’s back or angrier that someone is walking in and out of this place like it was a train station.”

“
Excuse me.”

They both turned to see the installer from the security company coming towards them.

“Are you two ready for me to show you how the security system works?”

“
Sure.” Rachel glanced at Sean. “I hope you don’t mind. Between the two of us, I think we can learn it well enough to show your father.”

“
It’s cool.” Sean took a deep breath. “I want to help.”

“
Let’s go then.” The security guy headed towards the front door.

***

“Where are they, Snickers?” Rachel set three more grocery bags on her kitchen table, pushing to one side the three she’d already brought in from the Jeep. “Hello?” She listened to her voice echo in the empty house. “I can’t believe this. He was supposed to be resting. He didn’t even have a car here.”

The cat continued washing her paws, seemingly unconcerned about their absent houseguests.

Rachel put the milk in the refrigerator. A whole gallon. She’d never drink a gallon of milk by herself before it went bad. What was she thinking when she bought all that food? Breakfast for a half dozen wasn’t going to be a regular occurrence. Even dinner for two didn’t seem likely. One night under her roof and he couldn’t wait to escape?

“
Where has my mind been? I need to.… I don’t know what I need. But this isn’t it. He didn’t even leave me a note.”

The cat trailed her as she finished putting away the groceries.

“Do I defrost this bird or not?” Rachel looked at the sixteen pound frozen turkey sitting on the countertop and a wave of sadness washed over her. Sam was gone, off skiing with his girlfriend. Her great aunt was spending Thanksgiving with friends in California. Her brother was celebrating the holiday with his fiancé‘s family in Tucson. And Mac? Well Mac wasn’t dependable. Not at mealtimes. It was time she faced facts. He was a single man in his early fifties. There was a good reason he’d never married. She didn’t have a clue what that was, but apparently he valued his independence. Nothing she did or said was going to change that even if she wanted to, which she didn’t. Or at least she didn’t know if she wanted to. She was getting a headache just thinking about it.

She tapped on the turkey. Hard as a rock. She didn
‘t have enough room in the refrigerator to let it defrost in there, the safe way. She’d have to do like she’d always done–float it in water in a Styrofoam cooler in the garage. It would take at least two days. Two days of checking on it; making sure it didn’t defrost too fast; changing the water as it warmed.

All that work for what? She was crazy for trying to plan an elaborate meal that she
‘d end up eating alone.

She picked up the turkey and elbowed her way out the backdoor. Instead of heading to the garage, she walked two blocks to the Methodist church
‘s food pantry. They’d make good use of the turkey and she’d take a little vacation. No, she didn’t want to have Thanksgiving dinner in someone else’s home. She didn’t want to share someone else’s family. She needed a plan, or she’d end up doing what other people, namely Kathleen, wanted her to do. She’d have to run away from home. Checking into a fancy hotel with room service and a Thanksgiving buffet sounded wonderful.

By the time Rachel had handed off the bird to a surprised woman with two crying toddlers clutching at her knees, the hotel idea was losing a little of its initial sparkle, but she
‘d do it anyway. No more waiting at home for people who didn’t want to be with her. She was going to enjoy her new life, even if it killed her.

She
‘d see if she could get a reservation at the Willard.

Okay, maybe not the Willard. She still had to pay Sam
‘s tuition. But someplace nice. With room service. And cable. And those little chocolate mints on the pillows.

***

The elevator shook as it slowly inched its way up to the second floor. It came to a grinding halt, then seemed to slip slightly, before it settled itself and the door slid open. Mac eased out and started the slow walk to his office at the end of the dingy hall, Whiskey at his side.

The landlord had reluctantly added the elevator to meet the handicapped accessible code, but certainly had felt no need to make any other improvements in the old building. The walls were painted grey, or had faded to that color over the years. The linoleum floor matched the walls, and the dim fluorescent lighting masked the scrapes, gouges, and old age of the building
‘s interior. This wasn’t the high rent district, except that meeting the monthly rent was always in the back of Mac’s mind. Finding the killer or killers of Brian Crager and Scott Merrell, as well as Bridget’s stalker, wouldn’t contribute a cent to the Sullivan Investigations till.

Whiskey started growling the closer they got to the office door. Mac looked around, but the surrounding offices were dark. Either the tenants had gone home or the spaces were unrented. Light filtered through the frosted glass transom over his own office door. He was surprised JJ was still working. Maybe she
‘d left the lights on.

Whiskey
‘s growls became more menacing before she broke out into a series of barks.

“
So much for a surprise entry,” Mac muttered. He soothed the dog by running his hand down the black and white fur and she quieted down.

Mac tried the door and it opened easily. The irritating tinkle of JJ
‘s bells announced his arrival.

“
Good afternoon, Mr. Sullivan. How are you feeling?”

Leo Lasky stood in greeting. He had been sitting in one of the guest chairs in the front office. Seated next to him was a man Mac recognized as the Lasky driver.

Whiskey started to growl and move forward, but Mac grabbed her collar. “Sit.” He ordered. The dog reluctantly obeyed, but kept a watchful eye.

“
Where’s my assistant?”

“
I have no idea. The office was open when we arrived. Perhaps she stepped out for a few moments?”

The whole exchange seemed so polite and unremarkable that Mac wondered if he had entered a parallel universe.

“It was open? The door was unlocked?” He seriously doubted it, but a quick glance at the door showed no marks of forced entry.

“
Yes. I wondered about that myself, but under the circumstances thought you wouldn’t mind if we came in and waited for you.”

“
Did we have an appointment?” Mac asked. Could he have forgotten he was to meet with Leo Lasky? Had the pain pills dulled his memory?

Lasky waved it off.
“I’m sorry. I should have called, but I was on Capitol Hill this morning meeting with the legislative director of the House Science and Technology committee. I thought I’d take a chance and stop by. Do you have a moment?”

Mac nodded.
“Let’s go into my office.”

After asking the driver to wait for him in the car, Lasky followed Mac into the inner office. Mac slipped into his desk chair and motioned for Lasky to sit across from him. Whiskey sat alert by Mac
‘s side.

The desktop looked undisturbed, but Mac couldn
‘t remember exactly where the folders had been the last time he’d been there. He saw Edgar’s distinctive handwriting across a large manila envelope. The metal clasp was in place, but of course, the envelope could have been opened, the report could have been read, and then the clasp redone.

“
Do you want some coffee?” He prayed the answer was no, since it would mean standing again and his back was already aching.

Lasky shook his head, no.

“How can I help you?”

“
Scott Merrell. I understand you met the man.”

Mac tried to keep his surprise under control. He was ready for many topics, but Scott Merrell wasn
‘t included in the list.

“
How do you know Merrell?” Mac asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Lasky gave a small smile.
“In Boston, in my business, you know a lot of cops, both good ones and those who are not so good.”

Mac nodded for him to continue.

“One of my clients has a huge urban renewal project in Charlestown. Merrell knew the area, was able to offer some,” Lasky hesitated for a moment, “help.”

“
The kind of help that involves money changing hands?” Mac asked.

Lasky flicked some imaginary lint off his trousers.
“Among other forms of help, yes. Scott Merrell knew who wanted cash, in what form, and who wanted favors, present and in the future. He came to see me three days ago.”

“
What did he want?”

Lasky shrugged.
“What do you think he wanted? Money of course. Said he needed it for his defense. Told me it would be in my family’s best interests to bankroll his legal fund.”

“
Did you give him some cash?” Mac thought about the wad of bills that Scott had in his pocket before he died.

Lasky snorted, a very ungentlemanly sound.
“Absolutely not. You don’t get rid of a snake by feeding it. I told him there would be no more money and if he contacted me again, I’d go to the police.”

“
A bit of a gamble on your part. How did he take your answer?”

“
About as well as can be expected from a man like Merrell. He threatened me and my family, even mentioned your goddaughter in his rants.”

Mac sat up when he heard Bridget
‘s name, but groaned at the sudden movement and its effect on his back. “What did he say about Bridget?”

“
Nothing specific. Just that if I wanted to insure the happiness of Josh and his future bride, I’d better rethink my position. That sort of thing. I didn’t take him too seriously.”

“
Why not?”

“
Because Merrell was a penny ante crook who isn’t worth my time. He had nothing that could implicate me or my client.”

Lasky
‘s eyes narrowed and he looked fierce. “I protect my own. You don’t have to worry about Bridget and Josh. They’ll be fine.” He paused, then added, “Or at least they will be if Bridget will stop all this nonsense.”

Mac bristled.
“I’m not sure what nonsense you’re referring to. Attempts on her life aren’t nonsense to me.”

Lasky held up his hands in defense.
“Mr. Sullivan, I think your goddaughter is smart and beautiful. I understand what Josh sees in her and hope, with all my heart, that they have a long and happy marriage. But she’s willful and melodramatic. I don’t think for an instant there has been an attempt on her life. Did she stir up a hornet’s nest in Boston with her articles? You bet. Bravo for her. But contracts on her life? Don’t be ridiculous. Cops, even corrupt cops, know there is no point in killing the reporter. She retold a story that was told to her. If those cops were going to kill anyone it would be the guy who was the main source for her story.”