Chapter 9

After a long hot shower,I checked my hair, but it appeared that the punch had all washed out. Thank goodness. I wasn’t exactly a pink sort of girl and definitely not in my hair. I didn’t even bother trying to wash the clothes. I just tossed them in the trash. That was the whole point of cheap clothes—you didn’t have to fret over ruining them.

Carter had the late shift, so I wouldn’t see him again until tomorrow morning when we all met with Alexander, and even if he hadn’t been on duty, I had a feeling he would have been called anyway to deal with the second round of the Easter debacle.

All of that meant I was on my own as far as dinner went, which called for fast and easy. I had just finished putting together a peanut butter and banana sandwich when my phone rang.

Detective Casey.

I grabbed a bottled water and sat down at the kitchen table as I answered.

“I didn’t expect to hear from you so quickly,” I said.

“Well, I figured it was a time-sensitive thing, so I pushed it with my captain.”

“I bet that made him happy.”

“Oh, he’s mad as a hornet, but not with me. He called that idiot Cantrell straightaway, but he was ‘busy’ and couldn’t take the call. So the captain called back again a little while ago and told dispatch that Cantrell could either take his call or he’d drive over there and sit on his front porch.”

“Ha. I’d like to see that.”

“You and me both. Of course, Cantrell was suddenly available.”

“Naturally. So did he make any headway?”

“Yep. He told Cantrell that he had someone alibiing his murder convict for the time of the crime and that he was pulling the case to NOLA as that’s where the witness and the convict were when the murder occurred.”

“Can he do that?”

“Not really, but Cantrell doesn’t know the law. Cantrell can’t find his butt with both hands. The captain said Cantrell was sputtering so much he sounded like a flooded boat engine. He tried to put him off, claiming he needed time to find the old files, but the captain pointed out that we’d all been required to go digital years ago and he expected an email with all of those case files in the next few minutes.”

“And Cantrell sent them?”

“He did.”

“Smart of the captain to ask for them right away. That didn’t leave Cantrell any time to doctor them up.”

“No, but your witness went there first, so they were tipped off. Hopefully, they thought they’d gotten rid of her and were too lazy to go back and attempt to cover up any gaps in their investigation. But like I said, there’s sure to be holes from shoddy police work alone.”

“You didn’t tell the captain I was the source, right?”

“No, but if this moves toward a retrial, I don’t see any way around it. But as it stands now, the captain’s back is up over Cantrell’s attitude, so he’s asked me to poke around. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Are you kidding me? That’s great. You have the authority to do things I can’t.”

“And you have the lack of rules and red tape to do things I can’t. If the two of us can’t figure this out, I’m not sure it’s doable. I’ll let you know if I turn up anything.”

She disconnected and I pulled my laptop over and checked my email. I couldn’t help laughing when I saw the mail from cantrellsucks in my inbox. I clicked on it and downloaded the files—the ones that Casey wasn’t supposed to give me. I’d figured she was going to anyway, which is why I hadn’t asked. Out of curiosity, I did a trace on the email and found it bouncing off a server in India. Clever.

I stored the file, labeling it Insurance Documents, and replaced the name of each individual file with a number. If I was ever compelled to give up my computer, people rarely wanted to comb through insurance stuff. It was the kind of folder people passed by.

I grabbed another water from the fridge, snagged some of Ally’s cookies from my stash, and sat down to read. It took less than a minute for me to determine that Detective Casey had called this one—the file was severely lacking. Lindsay’s father, brother, and sister all claimed to have been at home all night and as far as I could tell, no attempt had been made to corroborate that with household help. All three had stated that Ryan and Lindsay had been at odds. Hester Abrams had verified the fighting, and it didn’t appear they’d questioned anyone else about their relationship.

The medical examiner was clear on the time-of-death range, and it was fairly narrow given that it was inside and a controlled environment. Assuming Kelsey was telling the truth about her night with Ryan—and I still hadn’t come up with a good reason for her to lie—then there was no way he’d killed Lindsay.

Which made the next bit the most interesting. Cantrell’s notes said they’d received an anonymous tip concerning Ryan, and this person claimed they had seen him throw something into the dumpster at the Bayou Inn around 4:00 a.m., and that he’d had dark stains on his shirt. They’d searched the dumpster, found the knife with his fingerprints and Lindsay’s blood on it, and arrested him. But they hadn’t found the shirt and there was no indication they’d looked, nor had they tested for Lindsay’s blood in Ryan’s room.

Good. God. What a mockery of an investigation.

Ryan had given his statement, which matched what Kelsey had told me about that night. There was a phone call to the casino hotel, but there was no record of Ryan having rented a room. Cantrell hadn’t bothered to ask for the security camera footage. Just verified the time Ryan had gotten off work.

I shook my head. Twenty bucks said the person working the front desk had either slipped Ryan a room card for free or pocketed the cash himself. It wouldn’t be the first or last time hotel employees had hooked up their coworkers that way. But it created a huge problem as far as alibis went. I continued reading and found that Ryan had told them exactly what I’d thought—that a friend had given him the room card as a favor, but when questioned, that ‘friend’ had denied doing so.

I blew out a breath. Probably afraid of losing his job. But letting someone go down for murder seemed like taking things too far. I opened a new window and did a quick search on the front desk clerk, but he’d been killed in a bar fight a couple years back. So much for asking him to rescind his original statement.

I also made a mental note to visit the Bayou Inn tomorrow and have a chat with our friend Shadow Chaser. He wouldn’t have been working there at the time, but I’d seen old boxes stacked everywhere in the motel storeroom. I might get lucky and find a person or two who were staying at the motel at that time.

I didn’t like the ‘anonymous’ source thing. Never had and never would.

Now that I had pinned down the particulars on Ryan, it was time to put together a list of people who might have wanted Lindsay dead. Who benefited from her death? Who hated her? Who hated Ryan?

I had just closed my laptop and was about to move into the living room to collapse in my recliner and fall asleep to insignificant TV when my phone rang. It was Hot Rod. I answered as I headed out of the kitchen.

“Hi, Hot Rod. I take it you talked to Ryan?”

“Yeah, I did. Good Lord, that was one of the roughest conversations I’ve ever had. Bad enough I had to tell the man he’s got a kid, but then have to follow that up with ‘but he’s dying, and you might be the only person who can save him.’ The boy’s got enough on him already and now this. I can’t even imagine how torn up he is right now.”

“Me either. Did he handle it all okay? I mean, as well as he could given the circumstances?”

“He was shocked—really shocked. He’d tried like the devil to find that girl after Lindsay was killed, but he just didn’t have anything to go on. She never did say where she lived or attended school, so for all he knew, she could have been from out of state. He even tried calling culinary schools, but some random dude trying to track down a woman whose last name he didn’t even know didn’t go over with most of them.”

“I can’t imagine it did. The cops might have managed it, though, if they’d bothered to try.”

“They claimed they made the effort, but I don’t believe it.”

“Me either.” I couldn’t tell Hot Rod that I had the police files because I didn’t want to compromise Detective Casey, but I was certain Cantrell had never made an attempt to locate Kelsey.

“I even tried myself some…searched online for the name and ‘chef’ or ‘restaurant,’ but I never came up with anything either.”

“You never would have. She gave Ryan her middle name.”

“Crap. Well, I guess it accomplished what she intended in that some strange dude she spent the night with couldn’t stalk her, but it would have been nice if he’d picked a woman with less security sense.”

“Did you ask him to put me on the visitation list?”

“One hundred percent. In fact, it was the first thing out of my mouth. I said you have to put this name on your visitation list. It’s beyond important. I made him repeat it several times during our conversation. He said he’d do it straightaway. I think you have to call and make sure it’s updated, but once they have it all in the system, you should be good to go. They’ll give you his visiting hours once you’re approved.”

“Great. I’ll call tomorrow and see if I’m on. If not, I’ll keep calling until I am. I’d like to get in to see him as soon as possible.”

“Me too. I told him I was going next weekend whether he liked it or not—wish it could be sooner, but I’ve got car deliveries to make the next couple days and they can’t wait. But I need to put eyes on him. That was a hell of a lot to put on a man in one conversation.”

“Definitely.”

“I really appreciate you doing this. I just wish there was something else I could do.”

“You already did it. You added weight to Kelsey’s story, and you told Ryan what was going on. I know that was a hard thing to do. Just leave the rest to me. I’m going to do my best to fix this.”

“Your worst is better than most people’s best, so I’ve got hope again for the first time in a long time.”

I heard Hot Rod sniff before he disconnected and I flopped back in the recliner, letting out a huge sigh. I’d known from the beginning that this case was going to be hard from an investigative standpoint as well as an emotional one, but it was even worse than I’d imagined.

One life at stake. Numerous others potentially ruined forever.

* * *

The next morning,I was up early and off to grab a box of breakfast goodies from the bakery. Alexander was taking meetings with everyone at my house, except Harrison, who was on call in Mudbug, so Alexander would meet with him over there this afternoon, and Walter, who was meeting him at Francine’s. Ally had already offered to put together some excellent treats for what would be a stressful morning for some of us. Back home, I made a pot of coffee and straightened up my office for Alexander to use. Everyone had an allotted time for their interview, but I figured people would probably overlap and we could use the kitchen and living room as the lobby and break room.

I’d asked Alexander to come a little early if he could. Since we were using my house and I was certain to be there, I was first up on the interview list, but I also wanted to run Kelsey’s situation by him and see if he could turn any screws with the warden now that I’d pinned down a few things. It was just shy of 8:00 a.m. when I heard a knock on my door.

Alexander stood there in his steel-gray suit with light turquoise shirt and teal tie, grinning and looking like a Gen X Calvin Klein model for office wear instead of the cutthroat attorney he was. I waved him in and got him settled in my office, then grabbed us both coffee and a plate of the breakfast goodies and headed inside.

“What do you want to cover first?” he asked as he opened his laptop. “Iran or your new case?”

“Let’s go with my case and get it out of the way.”

I told him everything I’d learned, including the information from the severely lacking police files. When I was done, he leaned back in the chair and twirled his Montblanc pen between his fingers. I was pretty sure that was why he had the pen, as I rarely saw him write with it. After a minute or so, he leaned forward and stopped the twirling.

“First, let me say that I’m glad Kelsey brought this to you, which means it’s on my radar, because when I ‘retired’ this was exactly the kind of work I wanted to do. I hate when regular people are railroaded by the system or people in a position to take advantage of them. Justice is my overwhelming passion.”

I nodded. “I can appreciate that. I think it’s why I decided to be a PI. It allows me to right wrongs but still be myself. Well, mostly myself. Besides, I had to have something to do, otherwise what would I do with all my time?”

“Get bored and rot. One can only spend so many hours at the gym or on hobbies, and since other people are often more work than they’re worth, I don’t lean toward a heavy social calendar.”

I nodded my agreement.

“So this is what I think,” he said. “First, I agree that it sounds like Ryan got railroaded, but if we take that as a fact, then that means someone set him up. Which points directly to premeditation. So whoever wanted Lindsay dead had a reason. And given your ability and the advantage you have of being able to color outside the lines, you ought to be able to turn that reason up.”

“What about the warden? I’m going to call today and see if I’m on the visitation list. If I’m clear to go, I’ll be there the first available slot. I need to talk to Ryan. He’s probably the only person who’s going to be able to fill out a suspects list for me. Everyone else assumes it was him and has moved on.”

Alexander nodded. “People are always happy to believe a crime is perpetrated by the outsider. Makes them feel safer. When you talk to Ryan, tell him I’ll be representing him going forward. I’ll send the paperwork with you to turn in for me, but he’ll need to add my name to the list as well. As soon as they’ve been alerted that he has new representation, I’ll contact the warden and impress upon him the urgency of the matter and how it would look if a young boy dies because of his failure to allow something that already has a legal precedent.”

“I really appreciate your help on this. If anyone can move the warden, it will be you.”

“If I can’t move him, the governor can. I won’t play that card unless I have to, but if ever a situation called for escalating things, this is it.”

“Why would the governor get involved?”

He grinned.

“You have something on the governor?”

“Honey, I have something on everyone who matters.”

I laughed. Given the people he’d worked with during his career, that made sense.

“Well, then I guess we best start with what the military thinks they have on me,” I said.

He nodded. “I have it on authority that Kitts has attempted to stall or outright bury the investigation. He miscalculated big-time. He thought he’d be able to shift blame onto Carter and the situation would die out, but the other members of the team are questioning things. Carter wasn’t the only one who realized something was wrong. He’s just the one who made the call to abort.”

“Good. I’m glad he’s not going to be flailing in the wind on that one.”

“Nope. Kitts is hanging out there by himself. He’s been unable to squelch the DOD investigation, and my understanding is they’re focusing hard on him. Don’t get me wrong, they’re looking at all of you, but the reality is, this all starts and ends with Kitts, and as he’s the only active military member involved, he’s the liability they need to contain.”

“So this looks good for us.”

“It looks great for you. Couldn’t be better. But there is no greater defense than preparation.”

“I thought the saying was there is no greater defense than the truth.”

He raised one eyebrow. “I’m a prosecutor. Not a priest.”

“Then I better get to covering the details, so you can tell me how it really happened.”

He grinned. “What I always liked about you, Fortune, is that you’re a fast learner.”

* * *

Carter met with Alexander next,and I was beyond pleased to see that although he went into my office looking apprehensive, he came out looking relaxed and confident. Emmaline was after Carter and gave him a long look before hugging him. I told Carter to give me a minute and headed in to make the introductions.

Alexander rose from the desk when I walked in and although he had a poker face that could hang with professionals or even the CIA, I saw his eyes widen by a millimeter when Emmaline walked in. She hesitated just a bit before stepping forward, and he gave her a genuine smile as he extended his hand.

“I know you’re Carter’s mother because Fortune gave me the schedule, but I have to say, you look far too young to have a son his age. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Emmaline blushed and managed to mumble a thank-you before Alexander gestured to a chair. I raised one eyebrow at him, which he completely ignored, and then headed for the kitchen, where Carter was leaned against the counter, drinking a bottled water.

“How did it go?” I asked.

“Very well. Great, in fact. That man has incredible tactical abilities. If he was running the military, we’d probably win every war in a day and by a phone call.”

“They don’t call him the Grim Reaper for nothing. I was pleased to hear that Kitts is the one getting heat on this, and that the other men say what you did—obviously not to the same extent, as you were separated after capture—but they’re going to back up your claims, and that makes Kitts’s accusations completely baseless.”

He nodded. “I have to say it’s a huge relief. I didn’t really worry much about the other men because they always have the ‘following orders’ defense. But I’ve been worried about you and Harrison. Kitts was pushing hard to shift focus onto the three of us.”

I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “Don’t worry about me. I’m former CIA. We have lives like a cat. Besides, what they know and what they can prove are two different things. What’s the worst they can come up with—that we went to Dubai on fake passports? Given our pasts, that’s just good common sense, whether it’s legal or not. And a federal judge is not going to punish us for lying about our identity to take a vacation, not given our previous professions.”

“No one in the know will believe you were on vacation.”

“Of course not, but they also can’t prove we ever set foot in Iran. And that’s the bottom line.”

“What about your father?”

“What about him? It’s not like they can call him in for questioning.”

He snorted. “It would be fun to see them try to subpoena a twice-dead man, but I meant what are you going to say when they ask you about him?”

“Nothing. I was never there. And as far as I know my father is dead. I have the official letter from the CIA telling me as much—two of them, as a matter of fact—and Director Morrow is prepared to say the exact same thing.”

“So who do you think he’s working for?”

I shrugged. “The CIA, the military—hell, for all I know, he might be doing it just for fun.”

“He’s awfully dialed in.”

“Did I ever tell you what the other agents called him?”

“The Prophet?”

“Close. The Omniscient.”

“Seems perfect.”

I nodded. “The truth is, no one knows where he gets his information. Even the CIA was in the dark. Given that I’ve had the same job, I can only assume that he has a million important connections, all of whom owe him.”

Carter pulled me close to him and gave me a squeeze. “I’m glad he called in a marker over me.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Me too.”

* * *

Emmaline was gigglinglike a schoolgirl as Alexander escorted her out, even walking her to her car and opening the door for her. Ida Belle and Gertie had just arrived a couple minutes before, and we were all sitting in the living room, watching it all play out. When Alexander stepped back inside, we all gave him the one-raised-eyebrow stare, which he promptly ignored.

“Ida Belle, you can come on back,” he called as he hurried out of the room.

“You know he’s calling me back first because he thinks I won’t quiz him on it,” Ida Belle said as she got up.

“Will you?” I ask.

“Heck, yeah!”

Gertie grinned as she headed off. “Wouldn’t that be a match?”

“It just might be, but it will have to wait until all this is over. Alexander would never compromise a case by getting involved with a client.”

Gertie sighed. “I know. So I’ll just hope this whole mess is over soon.”

“It sounds good. I haven’t filled you in because I know he will, but Kitts is on the defensive, and it looks like he’s run out of favors. The DOD seems to be focusing all their energy on him.”

“That’s good news for the rest of us.”

“Definitely. Not that you and Ida Belle had to worry about it. No one wants to believe you could take part in a mission. If they only knew about Ida Belle’s shooting ability and your illegal explosives collection, they’d have to rethink it all.”

“Well, this is one of those times when I’m happy to play a woolly-headed old woman. The prosecution doesn’t want to put me on the stand. I’ll have them so annoyed by the time they get me out of that chair, you’ll all be trying not to laugh. And Ida Belle has grumpy old lady sarcasm down to a science. Hell, she was an expert at it when we were in grade school.”

I laughed. “It will be fun to see, though. Assuming it even gets that far. And while I’d love to see Alexander in action, I’m really hoping it doesn’t come to that because I don’t want Carter to have to take the stand and lie.”

Gertie sobered. “And is that what he plans to do?”

I nodded. “It’s the only way to leave me, Harrison, Mannie, and my father out of it. And at the moment, Mannie isn’t even on their radar. Carter doesn’t want to put him there.”

“Lying never did sit right with him,” Gertie said. “Even when he was a boy. You always knew there was something he didn’t want to tell you when he avoided you like the plague. I guess we’ll just have to see how it plays out, but I don’t see a man like Kitts getting stripped of his medals and pension without a fight.”

“Me either.”

“So what’s up with our case?”

“Plenty. As soon as you finish up with Alexander and he’s gone, I’ll fill you guys in. But we’ve got some things to do this afternoon.”

She clapped her hands. “I love investigating. It’s better than knitting, fishing, and baking. But it’s not better than sexy time.”

“Probably more dangerous though.”

“Well, that depends. Last week?—”

“No,” Ida Belle said as she walked back into the living room.

“That was fast,” I said.

She nodded and motioned for Gertie to head back. “He refused to talk about Emmaline, gave me the rundown on Kitts, and then I showed him my Ida Belle-on-the-stand act and he just laughed and waved me out. Gertie is even worse. She’s made those door-to-door religion people fake sudden illness to get away.”

Sure enough, Gertie was back within minutes and Alexander looked very pleased.

“Stop worrying,” he said to me. “I’ve got this so in the bag, I almost feel sorry for the other side. Put all your energy into this new case and let me know when you get to visit Ryan.”

“Thanks, Alexander. I really appreciate everything. Are you sure you won’t let me pay you? There’s a lot of us to handle.”

“Are you kidding me? I should be paying you for the opportunity. I’ve been wanting a go at Kitts for years. I’ll be in touch as soon as I know anything more.”

He gave us a backward wave and headed out.

“I think I love him,” Gertie said.

I nodded. “I’m pretty sure we all do. So what do you say we take his advice? Let’s head to the kitchen for sandwiches and I’ll bring you up-to-date on the case. Then we’ve got some people to talk to.”

Gertie clapped. “Road trip!”