Authors: Yvonne Harriott
She wasn’t expecting company. The doorbell rang again and a sharp knock followed. For a moment she thought it might be Beck. But after last night, the way she’d hurt him she didn’t think so. Whoever it was, she wasn’t shying away.
This was her house, bought and paid for with money she’d worked long hours to earn. If it were that flaming bird, she thought as she left the bedroom, then she would put a bullet in her beak and be done with it.
As she neared the door she saw the shadow through the frosted glass. Male? Beck? Taking a deep breath she paused before she opened the door. Her eyes widened with surprise and a little disappointment crept in when she saw who it was.
“Are you lost, O’Malley?”
He chuckled but didn’t comment on her abrasive tone. “It’s nice to see you too again, Brooks.”
“May I come in?” She didn’t move and he said, “Or we can talk out here if you like.”
Gotta give the guy credit, Markie frowned. He knew that with Melanie still on the loose she wasn’t going to carry on any conversation with him on the verandah.
“Come in.” Markie closed the door and they stood in the entranceway. She didn’t offer him a seat or something to drink. That was for invited guests. “What do you want?”
“Mind if I sit down. I’ve been up for the past twenty-four hours and I’m pretty much running on fumes right now.”
“How about I whip you up some breakfast and round it off with a nice pot of coffee?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but it went right over his head.
“No breakfast. I could go for the coffee,” he said swallowing a yawn.
Markie opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind when she saw his red tired eyes. He moved into the kitchen and she followed.
She retrieved a mug from the cupboard and poured him a cup of coffee.
“How is Sydney?”
“She’s fine.” Markie set the cup down in front of the empty chair. “Did you drop in to ask about Sydney because you could’ve saved yourself the trip and called.”
Yeah she knew she sounded snippy, but she was still a little annoyed with him. However, since he was instrumental in finding Sydney she should at least hear him out to see what he wanted. She’d heard of O’Malley when she was on the force. A renegade cop they’d called him, but she had never had the opportunity to work with him.
“Thanks.” O’Malley nodded towards the coffee and sat down at the table. “I was on my way to see the Melanie’s parents today. I thought it would be a good idea if you came along.” He looked up from his coffee mug at her when she didn’t respond and shrugged. “I figured you were going to see them anyway so we might as well go together.” He drained the coffee mug and set it on the table. What do you say?”
“I don’t need you by my side.” Leaning her hip against the counter staring at him, she was wondering why he was here. Now she knew. No was on the tip of her tongue. Although it wouldn’t be a bad idea, she mulled over the thought.
“I need you. If you tell them what happened to Sydney then they might want to help us locate Melanie. By the way, thought you’d like to know, we picked up Frank Wang and nabbed his cousin at the airport, Melanie’s partners in crime. They don’t know where she is.”
“And?” There was something else he wasn’t telling her. She could sense it. Now she was turning into Nan.
“Booker is riding me on this,” he said staring into the empty cup. “I’m on my own.
Jeffery Booker.
At the sound of the man’s name Markie straightened up. The man had turned her life into a nightmare when she was a police officer and what did he get for harassing her? A promotion, and she had to start all over again.
“As far as he’s concerned, the Monika Beck case is closed. We have no real evidence against Melanie to warrant even looking for her, his words.”
“What? She’s responsible for her sister’s death. Malcolm is dead and Sydney is in the hospital. What more proof does he need?”
“I carried out the search on Melanie’s apartment without his blessings yesterday and he has it in for me.”
“I don’t get it. How does Booker fit into this? Why is he riding you on this?”
O’Malley dragged his hand over his face and got up, leaving the kitchen. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”
“It’s a little late for coulda shoulda isn’t? Talk to me, O’Malley.” She pushed passed him and blocked the front door. “You came here to say something. Say it.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you back. When Beck came to me with the picture, I wanted to fix my mistake. I didn’t want you involved.”
“News flash—I was already involved.”
“I reopened the Monika Beck’s case and Booker shut it down. We got into it yesterday after Melanie got away and he more or less told me I’m finished as a cop.” He paused. “A Jane Doe had washed up a week after Monika’s death. I just found the file on it. It’s Monika Beck. She didn’t die in the boating accident. The autopsy said blunt force trauma to the back of the head. Booker buried the file.”
“Why?” Markie asked stunned. “I don’t understand his interference in this. Booker doesn’t do anything unless he gets something out of it.”
“He and the Daniels’ are tight.”
“How tight?”
She watched as O’Malley closed his eyes for a moment then turned his head to one side before facing her again. He began twisting the button on his jacket then unbuttoned it and shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks.
“When I was given Monika’s case, I’d just kicked a drug habit and was trying to prove that I could still play with the big boys.”
“Let me guess, Booker used your addiction to cover up the fact that Melanie had called her parents and told them about Monika’s murder. She didn’t die in the boating accident because Melanie killed her. Why would she kill her sister?”
He shrugged. “When I found out about Melanie’s phone call four years ago, Booker told me to forget it and focus my investigation on Beck. If I didn’t, he would make my drug use very public. I couldn’t afford to lose my job. It was all I had.”
“You were clean by then. If you had kicked the habit as you said, then you should have done something.”
“Don’t you think I know that? Malcolm would still be alive if I had. Your sister wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed. I can’t change the past, but I can do something about it now. I choose to do something about it. When we find Melanie, I’m turning in my badge.”
“What do you want sympathy?”
Markie realized he wasn’t looking for sympathy. He was simply trying to fix a mistake he’d made, a mistake that by the looks of it had been eating away at him for a long time. She wondered if finding Melanie would be enough for him.
“Not your sympathy, just your help to find Melanie.” He was silent for a while. Then said, “There was a rumor circulating at the time of Monika’s death that Booker had gambling debts. I’m starting to think it wasn’t a rumor after all.”
“You think the Daniels’ paid him off,” Markie said wondering how Booker could get away with all that he’d done.
“Had to. Could still be. In the end it probably won’t matter anyway because no one can touch him. You were the only one that tried to topple him off his ivory tower and almost succeeded. The way I look at it is I’ve nothing else to lose by bringing Melanie in. Booker would bring up my drug use and I’ll be out of a job so I might as well quit.”
“You’re going to walk away from your job and Booker gets away free, again.”
“You can’t win them all. Besides, he limped away from you remember?” He actually smiled when he said that. “He wasn’t as lucky with Jamie.”
“Jamie? What does Jamie have to do with Booker?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Water under the bridge. The Daniels’ are playing golf today. How is your handicap?”
• • •
Phoenix walked around the apartment touching and moving objects in the cramped space. Collectable spoons and little bells from all over the world were displayed on little shelves on the wall. The woman didn’t look like a world traveler yet all the memorabilia scattered around the room suggested she was.
If it weren’t for the boarded up window in the bedroom, which she had slipped through, one would think the occupant was out in search of another bell or spoon. Jealousy rose up within her. She’d never been outside of Boston because they had kept her locked up.
The apartment was clean. Free of broken glass. Everything was put back in its place. Markie had done it. Sisters did that. They took care of each other and loved each other.
She and Monika were close until Dalton Beck took her away. He used to come to her room at nights. It started when she was nine. The heels of her hands pounded on her temples.
No.
She was getting confused again. It was Dalton Beck that took Monika away and then there was no one to protect her.
Yes. That was it. That made sense. It was all his fault and he deserved to lose everything. He destroyed Monika and threw her away. But Monika didn’t know how to survive. She knew how to survive. Malcolm was dead. Sydney was dead. Soon, Markie would be dead. Then she and Beck could be together.
O
‘Malley came to a rolling stop outside of the gated entrance of Lord Manors Country Club in Jamaica Plains and a low whistle escaped his lips.
It hadn’t taken Markie long to decide to accompany him to visit the Daniels’. Sydney was alive because he’d found the woman’s address. Bottom-line: She wanted Melanie and another shot at Jeffery Booker.
O’Malley had insisted on driving. A drive, that left Markie wondering, how on earth he had passed a driving test and acquired a valid driver’s license.
He didn’t believe in slowing to a stop and was oblivious to the concept of a red light. The red light, she had pointed out to him, he’d barreled through a block back to which he had given her a “what” stare.
The trip was done in silence. A silence that started when he’d asked what was up with her and Beck. She’d replied it was none of his business. That shut him up, but not before he’d gotten off what was on his chest.
“All I want to say is that I don’t think Beck meant to hurt you, not in the way you think. Things just happen sometimes,” he’d said with a far away look in his eyes.
Things just happen sometimes: That was code for: he blamed himself for Melanie’s rampage and it was eating away at him. Since his statement had not required a comment she left him to his demons. Although, she wondered if finding Melanie would be enough to clear his conscience.
“How much do you think a membership in this joint cost?” O’Malley asked.
“If you have to ask you can’t afford it,” Markie replied looking over at the rolling hills beyond the gate.
“You’re probably right.”
“You sound disappointed. I didn’t think this was your cup of tea.”
“Far from it. This is just a place where rich people get together with other rich people and snub their noses at the outside world.”
Markie didn’t agree with O’Malley and chose to ignore his comment. No matter what he thought, the establishment was impressive. She had been to country clubs before, mostly for client meetings, but this was no ordinary country club. It was a sprawling estate, which spanned about five acres that sat on a well-manicured lawn as far as the eyes could see. The manmade lake with a water fountain shooting up from the middle was the most impressive feature of the country club.
A well-dressed Hispanic man, in black and white attire, emerged from the glass booth, opened the gate and approached the car looking at it with disdain. Markie wasn’t knowledgeable on cars by any means but she knew that O’Malley’s pride and joy was a diamond in the rough. His corvette was a project car. It looked like he’d put a lot of time into it and is doing so, looking at the worn leather seats. It could use a coat of paint and the door panels needed fixing. A coat of paint outside would restore it back to the beauty it once was.
“Snob,” O’Malley grunted and wound the window down. At least that was the only part she heard.
“Can I help you?” the man looked down his long nose at O’Malley and O’Malley shoved his badge in his face.
Markie suppressed a laugh. It appears O’Malley didn’t care to be looked down on and he didn’t care much for the gatekeeper either.
“It’s Detective O’Malley. We’re here to see Roberta and Kennedy Daniels.”
The gatekeeper bent to look into the car over at Markie. She had changed into a black pantsuit and blue shirt, but it wasn’t up to par with the dress code of the club. Neither was O’Malley’s gray suit.
“This is a member’s only club, sir.” He zeroed in on the crack in the dashboard.
“It’s police business. Either they come out or we go in,” O’Malley said one hand resting on the steering wheel as he revved the engine ready to move forward. Was he going to ram the gate? Markie wouldn’t put it past him.
The man turned on his heels, entered the glass booth and picked up the phone. A few minutes later he returned with a look on his face as if he’d bitten into something sour.
“It seems you’re expected, but,” he said looking over at Markie, “she’ll have to wait at the gate.”
“She’s coming in with me. Do we have a problem?”
One look of disdain deserves another and O’Malley gave as good as he got daring the man to challenge him.
“Someone will meet you at the main entrance,” the man said with a forced smile.
“Thanks, Alfred,” O’Malley said.
“Alfred?” Markie looked at him as he drove through the gate. She wasn’t sure where he’d gotten the name from, as the man wasn’t wearing a nametag.
“He looks like an Alfred, don’t you think? You know, one of those stuffy butlers you always see on T.V.,” he said with a smirk.
Another man, a clone of the one in the glass booth, met them at the grand entrance of the club after O’Malley parked. Then they were ushered to a private patio overlooking the pool to wait for Mr. and Mrs. Daniels.
A waiter came in and placed four glasses of lemonade on the table and left without a word. They were not welcome.
From the patio she could see members playing golf in the distance. They were surrounded by the lush beauty of nature as the warm breeze rustled through the trees.