Authors: Tammy Kaehler
I scrapped my afternoon of shopping. After watching someone distraught enough to set herself on fire, I wasn't in the mood for looking at multi-thousand-dollar outfits.
Instead, I went back to the hotel, showered, and changed clothes, needing the psychological cleansing, as well as the physical. Then I did something unusual for that part of town, or maybe the whole city. I took a walk.
In the neighborhood behind the hotel, I admired flowers, shrubs, and beautiful houses while I tried not to think about what the bank had done to make Jenny suicidal or what Tara had meant. I'd had no time to explain to Tara I wasn't corrupt. That I was barely part of the Reilly family. Barely part of the bank.
I sighed. I didn't have much of an argument.
Except, dammit, I'm not a bad person!
I went back to studying landscaping, listening to birds, and wondering how lost I'd have to feel to be driven to harm myself. I thought about the times in my life I'd felt trapped and unhappy, and I focused on what made me happy.
Getting in a racecar. Being part of a community of focused, talented women, like the Beauté campaign. Talking and working with genuine, caring people.
I needed to concentrate on those activities and not let expectations about my investigative talents weigh me down. I hadn't let Billy bring me down in life. I wouldn't let it happen now.
By evening, I'd managed to shake off my subdued, introspective mood, and I waited for FBI agent Ryan Johnston on the red carpet of the hotel's entry, watching a parade of expensive and exotic cars. I appreciated the new, black Corvette Stingray, the street version of my racecar, that rolled up, and I burst out laughing when Ryan climbed out of the driver's seat.
He grinned. “It's my fun car. Want to drive?”
“No, thanks. I get enough at work.”
I studied him as he drove us to an Indian restaurant. When we'd met, more than a year ago at the 24 Hours of Daytona, I thought he was a bad guy, a hatchet man for a shady businessman and team owner. I was still skeptical when he turned out to be an undercover FBI agent, since I'd been the one to intervene and foil a kidnapping of my half-sister, not him. But I'd mellowed with time. I wasn't angry with him anymore.
In the meantime, he'd grown his short, dark hair longer and trimmed his sideburns. A day's worth of beard growth added an edge. That, combined with the humor and intelligence in his eyes, made my insides jump around. I no longer thought he looked like the perfect henchman to an evil overlord.
Our conversation stayed light and amusing until we were seated at the restaurant and had ordered. Then Ryan asked me what I'd done that day, adding, “It seems you've got a lot on your mind.”
“I was trying not to bring it with us.”
He took a sip of his beer. “Must be pretty bad.”
“Surreal.” I described Jenny's attempted suicide, Tara's reaction to me, and the basics of my relationship with Frame Savings, without going into the complexities of my relationship with my father. But I'd forgotten Ryan knew many of the players.
“I can see her calling some of the family corrupt, like Ed GrantâI mean, Edward Reilly-Stinsonâhis son, and his son's BFF.”
“Billy and Holden. Except that Billy was killed the other day.”
“Doesn't mean he wasn't corrupt.” He chewed a piece of bread. “But your fatherâJames?âseemed honest. It's rude of Jenny's sister to fling that at you.”
“I can't stop thinking about how powerless Jenny must have felt. How meaningless life must be for someone to do that. And seriously, who chooses self-immolation?”
“It's a pretty rare method.” Ryan covered my hand with his. “It's impossible to know what brings people to different choices. She's probably got a reason, or reasons, and you'll never know what they are. You can offer help, but you can't force it on anyone.”
He sat back and I moved my wineglass out of the way as our food was delivered, plate after plate of it. I was about to dig into the rice when I felt my phone vibrating in the purse tucked against my hip. I ignored it. Ignored the second buzz. By the fourth, I apologized to Ryan and looked to see who was trying to reach me.
My mouth dropped open.
“What is it?”
“It's Tara, the one who was so angry at me today. She apologizes for what she said. She didn't realize I saved her sister.”
“You left that part out.”
I shrugged. “She says if I come to the hospital she'll tell me everything she knows about the Reillys. The secrets she's uncovered from twenty years of working at the bank.” I looked up at Ryan. “She'll also tell me what Billy was up to that probably got him killed. How would she know I'm curious about that?”
Ryan nodded to my plate. “Eat up, it's hot.”
“I should respond. I should go there.” I set the phone down. “I also should remember this is a date. I'm sorry.”
“It happens. You can make it up to me another time. Let's figure out what you're going to do about this. But eat while we do that.”
I shoved away my guilt and started eating.
“Do you want to know secrets about the Reilly family, Kate?”
It was a great question. “Yes and no. I feel like I need to hear what she has to say.”
Even if it cracks open a can of worms.
“Why's that?”
I shoveled a huge bite of food into my mouth and gestured apologetically.
“Tell me you're not investigating Billy's murder.”
I shrugged, still chewing.
“Facing down a quartet of enormous men with gunsâand knives, let's not forget the knivesâat Daytona wasn't enough for you?”
“I've got reasons.” But explaining the pressure put on me by the race organizers and my new sponsor didn't impress Ryan at all.
“You need to leave this to the pros. As you've seen in the past, you can get hurt.”
I ate another bite of food to avoid talking. I didn't mention the other two murder investigations he didn't know about.
“Why do I have a feeling you're going to ignore my advice?” he asked.
“I have access to people and information the professionals don't have. Unlike last time, I have no skin in the game, as Gramps would say. I'm not emotional about Billy's death.” I paused. “Useful information goes to the pros. I'm not going after anyone.”
His nod was grudging. “Are you going to talk to Tara?”
“Will you forgive me for how rude it is?”
“If you'll let me go with you and give me a raincheck on a date.”
“You want to go?”
“You've got me curious. And maybe I can help you stay out of trouble.”
We finished the food quickly and made the short drive to Cedars-Sinai Hospital. Ryan walked around to shut the passenger door after I got out, and he stopped me with a hand on my arm. “One thing first.” He leaned in and kissed me.
I didn't feel instant fireworks. What I felt was a slow burn, a wave of heat that spread throughout my body. My hands were full of my purse and jacket, so I didn't touch him, but I might have moaned softly as he pressed soft kisses to the corners of my mouth. He pulled away and smiled again, releasing me, then grabbed my shoulders as I swayed. His smile got wider.
“That's embarrassing,” I mumbled.
“Kissing me?”
“No. After⦔ I gave up. Filed that sensation away to think about later. “I have to tell you something.”
“You're Lucas Tolani's new girlfriend?”
“And that's more embarrassing.” I sighed. “We're supposed to go on a date in a couple days, that's all.”
He took my hand and headed toward the hotel entrance. “You've agreed to a second date with me already. Besides, I carry a gun. I'm not worried.”
We found Tara alone in one of the waiting rooms. She was calmer than when I'd seen her last, but her red eyes stood out in a face otherwise devoid of color. She set down her cup of coffee as we entered and, with an uneasy look at Ryan, rose to shake my hand.
“Kate, thank you. I hope we can start over. I'm Tara Raffield. Jenny Shelton is my younger sister.”
I introduced Ryan. “He's a friend of mine. We were out to dinner.”
He stepped forward. “I'm sorry for your sister's troubles, and to intrude on yours. I can wait out in the hallway while you two talk.”
“He's FBI,” I added, “so he knows how to keep a secret.” Tara caught her breath, and I reassured her. “He's here as a friend, for me. Not as an agent.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I don't mind. What I have to say is more about your family anyway. I can't keep my secrets anymore. Not with all this.”
We sat down, and I leaned forward, focused on Tara. “How's Jenny? Was she hurt today?”
Tara looked at the floor. “Physically, she's okay. They're keeping her overnight because she was having breathing issuesâshe had asthma as a kid, plus the fumes today. Then they'll hold her at a different facility for seventy-two hours.”
“A fifty-one-fifty?” Ryan asked.
“Right. An involuntary psychiatric hold. I suppose you'd be familiar with it.” She dropped her head into her hands. “I knew she needed help, but I didn't know it was this bad. I can't imagine what might have happened today⦔ Tara started to cry.
I patted her back. Despite having six inches on me and looking like a thirty-five-year-old fitness model, she felt fragile.
Tara sat up and pulled a tissue from her pocket. “I swore I was done with tears, moving on to anger.”
Being upset seemed reasonable to me. “You said you had information about Billy.”
She got up to pace. Took two deep breaths in and out. Cleared her throat. “Information about Billy and others. I should start by explaining why Jennyâno, I'm not sure I can explain that.” Tara gave a self-conscious laugh. “I can explain what drove her to it. And who.”
She stopped, hands on her hips. “Right now, I don't care where or how you share this, but that's my anger talking. Tomorrow I'll probably want you to keep it quiet.”
“Of course,” I replied.
“Unless there's something criminal, which I'd need to report.” Ryan paused. “You can always ask me to go get another cup of coffee at that point.”
Tara smiled. “I like you.”
I did, too.
Tara blew out another long breath. “Jenny and I both worked at Frame Savings. I'm still up in the corporate offices, in human resources, and Jenny was one of the assistant managers in the branch office downstairs. She's been diagnosed with breast cancer. She's just started treatment.”
“I'm so sorry. Is it going well?”
“Good so far. Stage three cancer, but they're happy with how she's responding.”
After a moment's pause, Ryan picked up the conversation. “Was there more going on in your sister's life?”
“Quite a bit.” She looked at me, hesitantly. “This is where your family comes in.”
“I may share a name with them,” I said. “But there's only one person I care about. I can't imagine he's part of the problem, but if he is, I'd rather know.”
Tara took a deep breath. “What I didn't know about Jenny was, for the past year, until a couple months ago, she'd been having an affair with a married man working at Frame. Right before her cancer diagnosis, he dumped her and threatened her physically to keep it quiet. Belittled her, telling her no one would believe her even if she did talk. Told her he'd come after her if she complained. Can you believe, in this day and age, he could threaten that and she'd believe him?”
“No evidence other than her word against his?” Ryan queried.
Tara shook her head.
I asked the obvious question. “Who?”
“Coleman Sherain.” My jaw dropped as she kept talking, disgust clear in her voice. “What makes it worse is I work with him. Sure, we've all known for years about his second family out here in L.A. Even about other affairs. But I never thought my sister would be dumb enough to fall for his act.”
I met Ryan's eyes and answered the question in them. “Married my father's sister, worked for the bank his whole career. Holden's father.” I turned to Tara. “That's enough to make your sister upset.”
“I'm not done. Then there was Billy. He propositioned Jenny, apparently at Coleman's suggestion.”
I was quickly heading toward outrage. Ryan took my hand.
Tara started moving again. “Billy was the last straw for Jenny. When he got aggressive, she slapped him and shoved him into a filing cabinet. Hard.”
“She could bring charges of sexual harassment,” suggested Ryan.
Tara's mouth twisted. “By the next morning, Billy had a restraining order against her. That afternoon, he fired her on charges of theft, which I know he made up. Billy told her he'd skip formal charges if she left immediately. She was hysterical, threatening him and Coleman. Security had to escort her out of the building.”
I turned to Ryan. “It's outrageous. Can't she do something?”
“Of course she can,” he replied. “But as I'm sure Tara knows, it would be a long, difficult road to win a judgment. She didn't help her case with the violence against Billy, though it's completely understandable. Unfortunately her violence is easier to prove than the men pressuring her into a relationship.”
I turned to Tara, disgusted. “She could go after them.”
She sighed. “What your friend here sees is how much Jenny would be on trial, how it would expose her and hurt her, because they'd throw everything money can buy at her. And we can't fight that. Not the money, and not while Jenny's fighting cancer.”
Ryan finished the thought for her, his voice gentle. “And not now she made an attempt on her own life, publicly, in an effort to shame them.”
Tara dropped back into the chair across from me, rubbing her forehead. We sat in silence for a minute, and Ryan asked a great question.
“What do you expect Kate will do with this information, Tara?”
She was amused. “I don't expect you to avenge Jenny. But I wanted you to know about Billy, since you were asked to investigate his murder.”
“Looking into, not investigatingâ¦but how do you know?”
“Office grapevine. Part of me hopes you can get Jenny's story to someone cares and might do something about it. I've worked for the bank for fifteen years. I know not everyone is an unethical slimeball. Your father's not, but he's hard for someone in my position to reach. Your father will listen to you, where he might not listen to me.” She hung her head again. “Which makes me sorry all over again for lumping you in with them earlier.”
“I can't promise anything, but I'll talk to my father about Jenny and Billy and Coleman. What else can you share?”
For the next twenty minutes, she told us everything she knew. First, the clues that led to her figuring out Coleman had a second family locally, in addition to the official one back east. On his weeks-long visits to L.A., he split his time between “a friend's house”âthe second wife'sâand the corporate apartmentâwhere he entertained other mistresses, including her sister. When Coleman wasn't making use of the apartment for affairs, Edward Reilly-Stinson was. The two men were cut from the same cloth, it appeared, at least as far as marital fidelity went.
Then Tara told Ryan and me about Billy, who'd been put in charge of the branch office a year ago, after his and Holden's debacle at Daytona. As the HR manager assigned to issues with the home branch, her workload quadrupled when Billy showed up. He was a worthless leader, delivering only half-baked direction and blaming employees for resultant failures. She'd spent the last six months documenting employee complaints to create a paper trail implicating Billy, while simultaneously being yelled at by him for employee performance and blamed by the executives for Billy's own shoddy work.
“It's hard for me to be sorry he's gone,” she concluded.
I remembered something. “Were you at the Media Day for the race because you were following him?”
She flushed. “Stalking is probably a better word. I'd been tailing him and Coleman, even Edward, for weeks, whenever I could. I was trying to find Billy's weak spots, to find some leverage. At that point I knew he'd fired my sister, and she'd reacted inappropriately. But I didn't know about the sexual harassment and faked theft charges.”
Ryan shifted in his chair. “Probably good you didn't.”
I believed her and didn't actually think she'd killed Billy. But the fact she'd been in Long Beach that day meant she could have. “I assume you didn't come up with anything you could use against him?”
She frowned. “Vague pointers and ideas. Billy had started to run with the big dogsâ”
Ryan broke in. “Those being?”
“Coleman, for sure. Edward, sometimes. Also other influential, local businessmen. Billy was joining the club, literally. There's a group of businessmen that meets every Thursday morning for breakfast. Coleman always attends, and he comes back more full of himself than ever, bragging about knowing the real movers and shakers of the city. He'd been taking Billy with him lately.”
Ryan sat forward. “Do you know who else is in that club?”
“I could go through call logs and make some guesses, if you wanted, but for all his loose lips about his homelife, Coleman didn't talk about that group, except in the general case. âThe real money-makers' and âbig-time wheeler-dealers,' that sort of thing.”
“Coleman and Billy weren't the most likely combination.”
“Coleman's son Holden is in San Diegoâthough he was part of the group when he visited. And Billy's father isn't out on this coast as much as Coleman. Billy and Coleman were here. But their relationship wasn't going well.”
“They didn't get along?”
“I think Billy didn't listen to Coleman the way Holden does. Billy didn't respect Coleman. He thought he was entitled to authority. And salary and deference.”
“Did you see Billy and Coleman argue?” Ryan asked.
“All the damn time. Especially over branch management. Coleman tried to tell Billy what to do, but Billy talked back and did what he wanted.”
That sounded like the Billy I'd known and hated.