The Price of Candy (18 page)

The buzzing of his desk phone startled him.
He took a deep breath and answered, “No, Mrs. Wolff, I can’t talk
to the vice-president just now. I’ll call him back. And hold my
calls please.”

Then to Sandy, “I thought I’d have my staff
run a check on her...the blonde.”

“Do that and your staff will know something’s
up.”

“Perhaps a private investigator.”

“You don’t need to bother. What do you want
to know? Her name’s Abigail Olin and she’s a somehow or other
girlfriend of Toby Towalski. I can tell you about both. Why don’t I
start with Toby since he was murdered two days ago?”

“What! The man that was here...murdered. Are
you sure?”

“You mean the police haven’t been here yet.
Yes, I’m sure. There’s still some blood on my ankle. Want to see
it?”

“Do they know who shot him?”

“Maybe it was you. Murder is an excellent
remedy for blackmail.” She let that one sink in for a full minute.
“Where were you two nights ago around 8 p.m.?”

“You mean I need an alibi? You can’t be
serious. You think I would kill someone?”

“After the police nail down the blackmail
angle, how long do you think it’ll take for them to decide you had
a good motive to kill him?”

“Me? I couldn’t do anything like that. Do you
really think the police will come here?”

“It’s a tangled web you’re weaving. Now
someone has shot the man who was blackmailing you. Abby Olin’s
already under arrest for killing someone else from up north and is
out on bail. I’ll bet she didn’t tell you that. So, that's two
murders and I haven't gotten to the kidnapping. The police in Park
Beach are investigating all of their dealings. They’re already
tracing ten grand found at her house, and guess who the money is
going to lead back to?” She made up some of that. Eventually it
might be true.

“Who are you anyway? Whose side are you on?
Aren’t you in with them?”

“Stop thinking that money is going to get you
out of this. I don’t want any money. I need to know what happened.
I witnessed Abby Olin shooting the guy from up north. Later, Toby
told me about the beach affair, and then someone, maybe you, shot
him in front of me. Also in the middle of all this, someone
kidnapped Abby’s ten-year-old daughter. Maybe you were in on that
as well.”

He brought his hands up to cover his face for
a moment then shook his head slowly.

“What did Toby have on you? You’re involved
in something criminal, aren’t you?”

“No, absolutely not. I thought you knew what
happened. You were talking as if you did. You seem to know a lot
about everything else, however I see they didn’t tell you what
happened on the beach.”

“You tell me. Then I can help you. I don’t
want to just take what I know, together with all my guesses and
dump it on the desk of the state attorney.”

“You’re here just fishing around and
guessing. I’m not going to say any more. I’ve already told you too
much. You think I’m foolish? You expect me to tell you why I’m
being blackmailed? I can’t risk that. I must be careful. The less
you know the less threat you are. Somehow, I’ll get through this. I
think you should probably leave...never come back.”

“I know more than you think and there’s more
I haven’t told you. So what are you going to do? Wait until the
police knock on your door?”

He stood from his desk, stared at her for a
moment, and then sat again. In a low voice he sighed, “I can’t do
that either.” He folded his arms across his chest.

Obviously, Toby was blackmailing him. The
image of Toby on that beach with the dead body was clear in her
mind. The situations must be connected. She decided to run another
bluff. “Toby admitted he was on the beach. He told me you were
there. He blackmailed you because of what happened.” That stretched
what she knew, but from the look on his face, she hit it. He was
silent offering no denial, so she went on, “The best thing for you
to do is make known what happened. Have your people put some kind
of spin on it. Get out in front of it and come clean before it all
blows up. Your problems didn’t die with Toby. If you come forward
now, Abby will have nothing to blackmail you with. The blackmail
will stop and you can get back to normal.”

“Normal might not ever happen again. I’m not
certain how you’re in any position to help me. And I’d still have
to worry about the police.”

“I brought the police report with me. No foul
play detected before death. Death by asphyxiation, yahta, yahta.
They aren’t even looking for you, Freddy. Go get yourself
disconnected from all this. I need to know what happened on the
beach that night. You and Toby were there. Who else? Why were you
there? Tell me the story.”

“I don’t think I should tell you. Anyway, if
I did, the entire story would be rather long.”

“For a long story I’m going to need a cup of
coffee.”

He buzzed Mrs. Wolff for coffee. “And if I
tell you, you’re going to set up a quiet meeting for me and the
police, no media. Agreed?”

She nodded. “There are ways you can spin it.
Perhaps you’ve been busy with important duties on Capitol Hill. You
didn’t realize the matter was unsettled. You want to cooperate in
any way you can.”

“That sounds good, Miss Reid. Would you like
a job in Washington?”

“Under the circumstances let’s go with first
names. I’m Sandy, okay?”

“Okay. I suppose it might be an appropriate
way for me to come forward. If I don’t trust you then what?”

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to make
guesses and they might be more embarrassing than the truth. Did you
know that woman? What brought you there? Who else was there? What
happened on the beach that night, Freddy?”

Mrs. Wolfe knocked, entered, and placed a
carafe and coffee service on a side table. She held an impolite
stare at Sandy long enough to transmit her displeasure at having
her office routine upset. The incompatibility of the staid
congressman who kept his suit jacket buttoned even at home, and the
impudent tousle-haired young woman who parked her undersized
vehicle in front of the entrance, was intolerable. Obviously, her
boss was in distress and not in command of whatever was going on.
When she left, Sandy pictured her listening with her ear to the
door.

He didn’t make a move so Sandy helped herself
to a cup and offered one to him. He seemed frozen and didn’t
respond.

“What happened, Freddy?”

He tilted his head back and gazed up at the
ceiling as though looking for guidance. Finally he said, “Okay,
I’ve no choice but to trust you...I hope I can remember everything
she told me. I first noticed the woman at a convenience store when
I exited from I-95 just south of Richmond, Virginia...I can’t tell
you all this. It’s embarrassing.”

“Let me help you out on the embarrassing
part. The woman turned you on and you wanted to screw her.”

“Good Lord, is that how I’m supposed to talk
to you?”

“Just a wild guess. I pretty much hit it,
didn’t I?”

“Well, I suppose some people might assume
that, however there’s much more to it than just that. As
embarrassing as it is, I must explain all that was in my mind so
you’ll understand.”

“Go ahead, Freddy. Lay it all on me. The
good, the bad, and the weird. I want to hear it all. If I start to
feel as though I’m watching an R-rated movie with my mother, I’ll
stop you.”

“Okay, you asked for it. Here goes.” He
shifted in his chair, crossed his legs, and leaned back. “I hope I
don’t regret telling you this.”

It all started last November. I first noticed
the woman at a convenience store when I exited from I-95 just south
of Richmond shortly before noon. Congress had adjourned for the
holidays and I was driving back home here to Florida. Normally, I
fly back and forth, but with Congress in recess for two months, I
wanted that car in Florida for the holidays.

This remarkable looking woman was immediately
behind me in the cashier line. Women usually protect their space
when queued with men. I sensed she stood closer to me than
necessary. In fact, I could detect her perfume, which normally sets
me off. Her fragrance was like the musky scent of fall leaves and
was unobjectionable.

Unexpectedly, she spoke to me. I turned and
was a bit overwhelmed as she was tall and I had to look up into her
eyes. She wore all that exaggerated dark eye makeup, which I find
unpleasant, and a mass of long curly-brown hair surrounded her
face. Admittedly, it wasn’t unpleasant to have those smoky eyes
focused intensely on me. She held her gaze unnecessarily long, as
though transferring energy to me from some inner source.

In the drab confines of that convenience
store, her appearance was indeed dramatic. Too extraordinary by far
for someone standing in a service station in broad daylight. We
exchanged a few routine words about how those dreary little stores
all appeared the same inside.

A few minutes later, I saw her outside and
could judge her better from a distance. Trim body, long legs, and
over six foot in those wedge-heeled shoes. The shoes, with a black
and white zebra design, didn’t harmonize with anything. I guess you
can buy any puerile thing these days. She had struck a pose
standing relaxed with her weight on one leg and her hip cocked out
in case anyone had failed to notice her exceptional shape. I
thought she was dressed rather cheaply, but she certainly knew how
to wear it all. I tell you, that woman did not intend to be
anonymous when she dressed that morning.

She noticed me looking her way. She swung her
black leather handbag onto her shoulder and walked over placing one
foot precisely in front of the other as though crossing a stage.
She had noticed my Florida plate, she said, and guessed I was
heading south. Could I possibly give her a lift back to her
disabled car just down the highway? The station was sending out a
tow truck when it returned from another call, but she preferred to
wait with her car. She worried about it being out there on the
highway. Besides, she didn’t want to ride with some greasy driver
and sit on the greasy seat in his greasy truck.

Of course, I wondered about her since I’m
judicious by nature. No woman with her appearance looks harmless,
if you know what I mean. I’d never pick up a common hitchhiker.
After all, if those people had managed their money properly they
wouldn’t be without an adequate vehicle and out in the world
bothering decent folks. They botch up their lives and then expect
the rest of us to carry them along. It was different with this
troubled woman. She was in distress with her car disabled through
no fault of her own. I’d be giving her a courtesy lift for a few
miles not even out of my way.

She neatly preempted my concern about her
danger to me by saying she guessed I wouldn’t be a threat to her.
That neat little reversal disarmed me. She took another step
closer, brought those made-up eyes and all that curly hair
uncomfortably close to my face, and flashed an enticing smile that
had a thousand years of practice behind it. Cleo must have grinned
at Tony that way. I said sure I’d give her a lift to her car,
without thinking anything more about it.

We couldn’t have driven more than five miles
from the service station and I was chatting away politely about the
weather. She didn’t respond. I glanced over and she was asleep. She
had immediately dozed off, settling against the door with her head
hard on the window and her curly hair falling partially across her
face.

I could now take an incautious look at her.
She might have been twenty-five or thirty-five—who can tell. She’d
made her face special with all that dark stuff around her eyes,
making it difficult to realize that her face was in fact rather
plain. Eyes too close together. A nose Modigliani would love, yet a
bit too long for my way of thinking.

Not likely I could miss her disabled car
along the shoulder at such a slow speed, but she’s the one who
should have been looking out. I reached over and nudged her arm
gently. “Miss, I don’t even know what kind of car you have. What
are we looking for?”

She squinted over at me through one
makeup-laden eye without moving her head. “You’ll see it.” She
closed the eye.

“Would it be on the other side? Were you
going north when your car stopped?”

Silence. Then without opening her eyes. “I
guess I was going north.”

“Well, damn. I was watching on this side I
might have missed it on the northbound side.”

“Then I was going south.”

Her nonchalance annoyed me. “Look, Miss, it’s
your car. You’re the one who asked for a lift. You could’ve just
waited and ridden out here with the tow truck.”

She opened both eyes to look at me and held
her gaze right into my eyes for about five seconds. She glanced
down and quickly back up at me. She did a little bat thing with her
eyes and smiled. “I’m sorry, and you’re being so nice to me.”

I was sorry I’d been sharp with her. “Okay,
no problem. I just hope I haven’t already passed it. I’d have to
turn around and all that.”

“You haven’t passed it.”

I drove on another five miles or so. This was
getting ridiculous. “I must have passed it. How did you get to the
service station?”

Her eyes remained closed. “I walked.”

“No way you walked ten miles. A woman looking
as you do, cars in both directions would have piled up before you
took two steps.”

She opened one eye again just long enough to
squint down at her skirt and make a perfunctory move to adjust it.
She also reached down, touched her black shoulder handbag resting
in front of her on the floor, and clamped it tightly with her
feet.

She said, “Could you speed up? You’re really
dragging.”

Then it finally sunk in. “There is no car, is
there?”