Into The Heat (Sandy Reid Mystery Series Book 6) (14 page)

A
fter hanging up with Holly, Martin forced his mind back into the office. Sandy and Nigel had been talking about the forty-eight hour deadline. It took a full minute for him to get his mind refocused. He was still distressed, when he said, “How much time do we have left?”

“At least one more day. Of course, Leo could contact me at any time. Lester should be walking in for his appointment any minute. I’m certain he has the answer to many of our questions. However, he still refuses to talk openly about Coleman. I’ll keep trying.” Her biggest worry just then wasn’t Lester’s defense but Leo’s overhanging threat.

She had just finished speaking when a freshly shaved and salon-embellished Lester Bardner came in. She greeted him with, “Nice to be out of jail isn’t it? You almost certainly don’t realize it, but you dodged a bullet. Your transfer out to county prison was underway at the same time I was before the judge getting you bailed.”

“But I do appreciate it,” he said. “I’m a changed man and ready to do your slightest bidding.”

She had decided he was guilty; the clincher was what Martin had learned at the sports bar. Lester definitely had followed Coleman and shot him. She still needed the motive and the money explained. “Does that mean you’re ready to confess?”

“I still think it would be stupid to admit to murder.”

She opened the folder on her desk. “I have information that Coleman was in Frankie’s at the same time you were there. In fact, a witness says you followed him in and out.”

“You think I’m lying to you?”

“Exactly.”

“And you also think I’m crazy.”

“That’s beside the point.” She leaned forward on her elbows. “Let me explain the prosecution’s two problems. They need to find the connection between you and Coleman, and they need a motive for you killing him.”

“You’re talking as if you think I’m guilty.”

It would be unwise for her to say it outright; the Bardner’s might drop her as his attorney, and she was determined to see this through to whatever end. “The police will soon discover you were in there with him the evening of the murder. That discovery solves the big connection question for them. Now what about the motive? I’d like to learn about it before they do.”

He shrugged.

“What do I say to the jury after witnesses testify you both were at the bar? Did you speak with him there?”

“Tell them I wasn’t there.”

“Didn’t you hear me? We have a witness who saw both of you there. Was it some sports betting deal gone bad? Did you lose a big bet? Or did you win and he wouldn’t pay up?”

His eyes went up and around the ceiling before speaking, “It had nothing to do with any sports betting.”

At least that was a slight admission and sounded truthful. She hoped he’d continue opening up. “Okay, no betting, but it must certainly have to do with money. Coleman showed up in town with a quarter million dollars. Now that money is missing. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t know he had any money. Makes no difference to me whether it’s missing or not.”

“Lester our best strategy might well be to admit that you shot him in self-defense. So, I really don’t care if you want to keep saying the video and everyone is mistaken, and you’re innocent. So you can now tell me anything and everything, and it won’t affect the outcome, okay?” Only a slight exaggeration. “My concern is the reason. Why did you follow him in and out of the bar if money was not involved? You killed him for some other reason? Why? Just tell me why. If not money, then revenge, hate, jealousy—why did you want him dead?”

Silence.

“Does any of this have a connection with Charlene?”

That got his attention. “What does she have to do with this?”

“That’s what I’m asking you!”

He frowned and shook his head.

No help at all from the man. Yet, she’d stick with the case regardless of whether he cooperated. Not unusual for a guilty defendant to maintain innocence. She should give up trying to reach him. She’d uncover the facts, prepare a defense and simply not let him testify. She had about decided to have him plead guilty and argue the shooting was justifiable under Florida law. It seemed the best bet. Especially since Nigel had discovered an unidentified object in the victim’s hand.

She’d had enough of going around in circles. “Let me tell you how the justice system will work in your case—you’ll be given a fair trial and found guilty. The trial will go on and on. The maneuvering will go back and forth. But in the end you will be found guilty. Keeping your secrets is hurting your cause. These aren’t little lies and secrets you’re laying on me. These are putting yourself in prison for life, sort of secrets.”

She looked at him and gave her head a little shake. “I’m waiting for the time when all the playing stops, the reality of the situation terrifies you, and you beg me to hear the truth. And your hardheadedness is placing other people at risk. Other lives have been threatened. That money didn’t belong to Coleman. It belonged to his associate who is willing to kill to get back, and he believes you have it. You understand, I get paid whether you walk or not. In fact, the longer I drag things out, the longer the money rolls in—right up to the minute when they fill the syringe with the lethal injection. And in fact, I’ll charge for the full eight hours on that final day.”

He looked as though she were talking about someone else. She wanted to reach across and shake him by the shoulders. “In addition to that, just in case all these horrible consequences are too far in the future to mean anything to you, I suggest you go into hiding at once because this guy Leo believes you have his money, and he’ll shoot you without blinking an eye.”

As if on cue, her phone warbled on the desk beside her.

After she answered, the color faded from her face. She listened and then said, “No, no, no, I need more time… no, not to find you. More time to find the money. Here’s how it is, I’ve thoroughly investigated the situation and my client has an airtight alibi. He’s innocent and the police have lost interest in him. He’s not the one who killed your buddy.” She looked over at Lester, who was nodding his head vigorously. “Now, I need more time to find the actual killer and recover your money.” She could picture him with the phone in one hand, speaking with a cigarette clamped in his lips.

She listened and frowned. “No, it’s not bullshit. Give me more time… Leo, that’s crazy. Shooting people won’t get your money back. Leo! Leo!” Her hand had started to tremble as she set the phone aside.

“You look sick,” Lester said.

“You need to get out of here fast.”

“Your face went all white and it scared the hell out of me.”

“For once it
is
about you, Lester. You need to run. Leo has identified you. He probably saw your picture in the paper. He knows who you are and where you are. I’ve already said the way you’re playing this could get you executed. Now you have to worry about Leo getting you first. He probably watched you come in here.”

“Well, I’ll be damned—.”

“Exactly! You need to lose him.
Now listen carefully. When you leave here, park your car in the courthouse parking garage and go in the courthouse. Have a taxi pick you up at the side entrance. Go straight from there to a hotel and make it your home for the duration. Do not go near your car or your house until we catch this guy. Perhaps Julia can bring you some clothes and stuff. Anyway, stay away from your house.”

She walked Lester to the front office door, turned and stared at him. “Lester, I don’t understand your reluctance to discuss everything with me. Whatever your reason, you’re risking yourself and others getting killed.”

“Sandy, this situation is all very stressful, you don’t realize how all this is affecting me. People questioning me, hour after hour being in jail, reading my name in the newspaper and knowing that people hate me. All extremely confusing. I’m not a tough as you think.”

“And you’re dumber than I thought,” she said under her breath. She gave him a gentle shove out the door and called after him. “I hope you live long enough to stand trial.”

She was still angry as she turned to Nigel, “And you’ve still got nothing on Leo? We need background on him. If we can ID him, we can begin to trace him. He’s staying somewhere—driving around in something. Geez, give me something, damn it!”

Nigel looked contrite and pleaded. “You gave me three letters to go on. L-E-O, that’s what I’m starting with. Nothing but a nickname to go on. Could be Leonard, Leon, Leopold—.”

“We’re talking Miami, he might be part Latin, so try Leonardo,” she said sharply.

“Tried that,” he said, “Leonardo is also European.”

“Well, I can’t hand you his damn Social Security number, Nigel!”

He was stunned, “I haven’t given up, Sandy,” he said meekly.

She hurried over and put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, this situation has me frustrated and on edge. Leo said it’s amazing how the money suddenly appears as soon as someone gets shot. The man’s going to shoot someone, if you’d looked into his eyes you’d know what I mean.”

“If I looked into his eyes, I’d collapse on the spot.”

“If anyone can trace Leo, it’s you. I know that. Sorry I yelled,” she sighed.

“I’ll get him, Sandy. I promise I’ll get him.”

She called Mel and explained that Leo had just called saying times up. She finished by saying, “I asked for more time, but he hung up. I want protection, Mel. And I want Martin and Nigel protected.”

“Of course, and I think it’s time we all got our heads together on this.” He told her to close the office immediately and come with Martin to the courthouse. He wanted them to meet with him and the police chief to discuss the threat of Leo. He’d send an officer to pick them up.

“What about Nigel?” Martin asked, after she told him about the plan.

“He’s most likely safe, but I don’t want him sitting in the office alone. A police car is picking up all of us. We’ll take Nigel home.”

E
arly afternoon, but the sky was quickly becoming dark and low. An ominous front had blown down through the Carolinas bringing a hard rain and interrupting the late fall warmth. Fortunately, unlike mud slides in California and earthquakes anywhere, weather for Florida can be seen advancing. Even devastating hurricanes that can snap huge trees like sticks take weeks to cross from the West African coast. And when it’s freezing in Canada, and the wind is from the north, everyone knows Florida will soon turn cold—relatively. The forecast of harsh, cold, rain for Park Beach, Florida was coming true. And the rain was soon accompanied by the grumble of thunder.

Nigel chose one of the strays from the brass umbrella stand in the corner of the law office waiting room. “Should we wait on the porch outside?”

“For the duration we’re in hiding from Leo,” she said. “We won’t step out until the police arrive. And, Nigel, I know you’ve been seeing Charlene, and that’s fine. However, stay away from her tonight as you’d be putting her in danger.”

They didn’t wait long. Soon a patrol car slipped around the corner and splashed up across the sidewalk. She and Nigel ran through the increasing rain. Martin locked the office and joined them.

The officer turned in his seat. “You guys have to be VIP’s, the courthouse is less than three blocks away.”

“We have one stop on the way,” she said. “Nigel, where do you live?”

“Hold on, this isn’t a taxi,” said the officer. “My orders were to pick you up and take you to the courthouse.”

“Well, your orders just changed.”

Nigel interrupted, “I must admit my cupboard is bare. Maybe he can just drop me at my neighborhood market.”

“How far is the market from your apartment?” she asked.

“Seven or eight blocks.”

“Take a taxi,” the officer suggested.

“I wouldn’t want you strolling around your neighborhood, even if it wasn’t raining,” she said.

Martin spoke up, “Nigel, we’ll all go to the courthouse and after the meeting you can come home with me. You’ll be safe there, and we can make an evening of it. Okay? It’s settled.”

Rumbles of thunder had given a warning earlier. Suddenly a brilliant burst of lightning with a simultaneous crack of thunder lit up the patrol car and made it tremble, startling them all. A fierce thunderstorm was upon them. Sunny Florida was quickly swept aside and vanquished. They reached the courthouse in the midst of an assault of harsh wind and rain, and stepped out under the shelter of the courthouse parking garage.

Sandy, Martin and Nigel joined with Shapiro, Detective Jaworski and Police Chief Stabler in the state attorney’s fourth-floor conference room. They moved the chairs closer together to hear above the sheets of rain pounding against the windows. Shapiro welcomed Nigel, remembering him from when he came to the courthouse and picked up the flash-drive. Sandy introduced Nigel Edwards to the Chief, who immediately wanted to know about the young man. She answered, “He’s the one who knocked the prosecution’s sure-thing case into a cocked hat.”

The Chief was not amused. “He’s not a lawyer, he’s part of your office staff. He shouldn’t be on the inside of the sensitive information we’re discussing here. Wasn’t he the subject of some sort of investigation?”

“Take my word for it, Chief, the young man is clever. He might hear something discussed in this meeting that will storm his brain. And more than that, if Nigel goes, I go.”

“Take
your
word?”

Shapiro cut him off, saying, “Chief, your concern is unwarranted. We need all the input we can get—the young man stays.” He drew his chair up closer. “Okay, I want everyone’s head together on this.” He asked all to listen carefully in the hope that sharing the information might be productive. “This Leo character is the real thing. He threatened Sandy and has now called her and stated the time is up. His threat, if we didn’t meet his deadline, was to shoot someone just to get our attention. We’re taking him seriously. The fact that he’s wearing a shoulder holster is proof enough. The time for protecting individual territory had passed, so let’s talk freely.”

After looking over at Shapiro, who nodded his permission, Jaworski opened the police file and started reading. The police down in Miami Beach had only one detective working that end and had gained nothing so far. He had interviewed the ex-wife of the victim, Benjamin Coleman, and she claimed to have never heard of any Leo. The detective believed she was lying. He started working the names in her Miami social circle in the hope one of them would be married to a Leo, but that was taking a long time.

The local Park Beach police, according to the Chief, had determined that Leo’s access to Room 405 at the Ocean Palms Hotel wasn’t that unusual. Housekeepers, maids and maintenance personnel all had master key cards. Leo could have bought a master for ten bucks, or perhaps just conned a maid into letting him in the room. They found ashes on the carpet, but Leo must have picked up the butt. They dusted the entire room and found a partial palm print on the desk, but it was useless for ID. The investigation outside the hotel was equally unfruitful. Chief Stabler mumbled something about Leo probably bluffing.

She rolled her eyes at that. “He might be a phony, but his gun was real.”

Martin explained what he had learned at Frankie’s Sports Bar, leaving out any specific mention of his source whose identity, at least at this point, didn’t need to be revealed. He referred to his source as a ‘server’, which was correct in a manner of speaking. He included his questioning of Holly Davies at The Coffee Mug. He assumed the police had covered much of the same territory.

She then reviewed her conversations with Leo at the hotel.

Shapiro asked her, “What can you tell us about Lester Bardner?”

“He’s obsessive, difficult and wears expensive clothes.”

“Come on,” Shapiro said. “Not everything about him needs to remain confidential. Protecting your client’s rights is one thing, but we’re here trying to stop this Leo from shooting his gun off in all directions.”

She reminded them they already had some background on Lester from Jaworski’s interview of Charlene Faulk in their law office. She then summarized any conversations with Lester Bardner that were not incriminating.

Shapiro wasn’t satisfied. “Sandy, I suspect you know how your client met Coleman and whatever deal there was behind the money. Are you willing to share that with us at this time?”

“No, I don’t know how they met,” she replied. “Nothing I do know on either count has anything to do with Leo’s willingness to shoot someone to get his money back. I certainly would love to find out the answers before you do. However, Lester isn’t the most cooperative client. I’ve already related what Leo told me in the hotel room—that he’s up here looking for the money Coleman had brought up here. Lester insists he knows nothing about the money. That’s about all I have to tell you.”

All told, the exchange of information was interesting, time consuming and inadequate. Yet, as Shapiro had hoped, at least the meeting got them all on the same page. He walked with them down to the courthouse parking garage. The thunderstorm had passed, but the heavy rain continued. Two patrol cars were waiting. One unit would take Martin and Nigel to Martin’s home and remain on duty there overnight. Martin and Nigel said goodbye and settled into the back seat.

Sandy and Mel stood together for a moment next to the other police vehicle.

“How do you feel?” Mel asked. The pounding rain made it difficult to hear.

“I’m fine. Worried about Leo, of course. I wouldn’t mind going somewhere quiet for a drink to settle down. But not in this storm.”

“Is it quiet at your place, Sandy? Why don’t I come over later?”

“Why not now? Follow us. I don’t want to be alone just now.”

She got in the front seat of the police car. Mel held the car door for her, and said “Take no chances until we catch this guy.”

Twenty minutes later, Mel was on her front porch shaking his umbrella. “That officer is to be there at the curb whenever you’re home.”

Once inside her house, he laughed and said, “The front porch is where I usually get the brush off.” He pulled her close with one arm around her waist. He brushed her slightly wet hair back with the other hand.

“You’re not bothered by my chaperone out there watching over me?”

“He’s watching out for the bad guy, I’m the good guy.” He kissed her.

The kiss was a little too soon and too eager for just stepping inside her house. She broke away casually, making the move appear quite natural. “Come on. I’ve been looking for an excuse to open a special wine I received last Christmas.”

She brought the bottle and the glasses in from the kitchen, placed them on the glass-topped coffee table in front of the couch and half filled them. After they had their first sips, he settled into the corner of the couch and drew her down close beside him. He put his arm around her shoulders and nudged her closer. She could still hear the rain drumming the roof, although the thunder had stopped. Nestling with him there on the couch, she felt comfortable and relaxed.

Mel said, “I love the feel of us being close like this.”

“You still look uptight.”

“I’m not exactly cozy even though I’d rather be here with you than anywhere else.”

“Well, I want us both cozy.” She snuggled slightly closer. They sipped the drinks quietly for a minute, and then he said, “Sandy, did you ever spot an attractive man on the street, in a store, or pushing a shopping cart, and you think you’d like to know him better. He’s alone and appears to be available. You wonder how it would be if you really made contact with him.”

“Seems rather normal.” She wondered where he was going.

“Well, that’s the feeling I sometimes get when I see you. We’ve known each other for years now and see each other every few days, we sometimes date, we sometimes kiss. Yet, it’s as though I’m watching this attractive woman go about her life, and nothing comes of it. Then you’re gone. You disappear back into your own life. It’s as though I’ve missed the connection with the pretty girl and am left wondering how it would be if I really made contact with her.” He raised his hand to touch her cheek with his fingers, a soft caress. Then he leaned over and gently kissed her forehead.

She knew when he said he couldn’t get started with her, he meant just her, not that he’d been enduring loneliness and suffering a long walk in the desert without a drink of water. He had no particular reputation regarding female acquaintances as far as she had heard, yet having been divorced for many years, he could be expected to have a few names with one or more asterisks beside them in his directory. The man was routinely out there: speaking engagements, social affairs, dinner parties. Active and popular, he was a well-known personage around town and considered quite a catch, by many.

She guessed he wanted her to take him more seriously and wanted the next step.

“You’re a busy guy. I suspect you have some difficulty slowing down and simply relaxing. As far as I’m concerned, I’m enjoying our relationship.”

He kept one arm around her shoulders, turned toward her and with his other hand on her upper arm, drew her close and kissed her. A sweet and warm kiss, yet for her part it felt as though she was returning the kiss out of sympathy. She truly liked him and was definitely attracted to him, yet pity wasn’t a good reason to be making out. His hand dropped gradually from her arm and rested gently on her skirt at her waist. He leaned in to whisper, “You are exciting.” He kissed her again. His soft lips were different this time. This kiss became eager and hot, she let herself go with it. She began to melt into him. After another moment, she wanted off that couch and closer to him. As they kissed, he slid his hand slowly back and forth feeling the smoothness of her thin skirt along the side of her thigh, and she could feel his warmth through her skirt. She felt herself arch her back to give his hand freedom. His fingers were spread wide as his hand slid around her waist to her lower back and cupped her buttock, gripping it gently. It caught her off guard, and she felt a wave of heat rise in her body. This was the closest they had come to true intimacy. She had the urge to tilt her head back, close her eyes and give him a clear way. She uncrossed her legs and drew in a short breath, so he’d know to go on. His hand moved to the hem of her skirt and caressed her bare knee.

Unbelievably, his phone rang. They both froze.

When he stiffened, she said, “You’re
not
going to answer it. You are not going to answer that phone,” she said emphasizing each syllable.

It continued ringing.

Finally, he fumbled for his phone.

She held back his hand. “Don’t answer it!”

“My calls are screened, if it rings—it’s important.”

“It damn well better be earth shattering,” she grumbled.

He answered, listened and then said, “Well, call one of my assistant state attorneys. I’m not available.” He took a glance at Sandy, whose flared eyes were shooting sparks at him.

He listened for two more minutes. “I’ve never been more
unavailable
!” Then he frowned and covered his phone to ask her, “Charlene Faulk? Isn’t that Bardner’s girlfriend?”

Her hands flew to her face.