by Nora Kane
Stafford looked at Radcliff. “It looks like we have the only two survivors of this guy in the same room.”
Radcliff nodded.
“You knew the other victim?” Myers asked.
Before Margot could answer, Radcliff said, “I’m pretty sure her boss gave you that information already.”
“Just looking for confirmation.”
“If Shaw said it, then it’s true,” Margot told him.
“An honest private detective?” Stafford snarked. “I didn’t know such a thing existed.”
Myers ignored the F.B.I. man’s comment and continued, “He said you met with Amanda Dithers yesterday afternoon?”
“I did.”
“What time did she leave?”
“It was around one-thirty.”
“She was murdered around three-thirty.”
“If you say so.”
“That seems to be the best estimate, but it’s only an estimate. That seems to be about the time you arrived at her house.”
“It was?”
“Yeah, according to her ring app, that’s when you rang the doorbell. We’ve got video of you ringing the doorbell, checking the garage, and ducking down when her murder went down. While you’ve been sleeping, we’ve been busy.”
When Margot didn’t have anything to say to that, Myers asked, “Did she hire you?”
“She tried.”
“You refused?”
“She’s not a good client.”
“What did she want you to do?” Stafford asked.
Margot was tempted to tell him that information fell under the “private” part of private detective, just because he seemed like a jerk, but decided there was nothing to be gained by antagonizing a federal agent. Instead, she said, “She wanted to hire me to find her ex-husband's murderer.”
“Her husband was murdered? How did I not hear about this?” Myers asked.
“Because it didn’t happen. I talked to him after she left.”
“Why would she hire you to solve a murder that didn’t happen?”
“I wanted to ask her the same question.”
“You talked to Mr. Dithers?”
“It was part of me determining he wasn’t dead.”
“If you weren’t taking the case, why’d you want to talk to him?”
“Curiosity, I guess. I overheard part of a strange phone call, and then I learned from Radcliff that no one had filed a missing person’s report despite what Miss Dithers told me.”
“Has it occurred to you that your conversation with Mr. Dithers led to her death?” Stafford asked.
“No, but that’s only because it wasn’t long after I found her that someone started shooting at me, and I’ve been asleep since then.”
“You know, there’s no need to be a dick,” Radcliff told Stafford.
“Are you saying I’m wrong? It sounds like she screwed him over using Margot once before and was at it again. I can see why he’d be pissed. He had ties to organized crime. He didn’t pull the trigger on his wife, but he may have set things in motion.”
“You’re not wrong,” Margot told him, “it could have happened that way. The timing makes sense. This guy hasn’t operated in months, something had to make him stick his head up. What did Dithers say?”
“Well, he may not have been missing before, but he’s made himself scarce.”
“Are you sure you talked to him?” Stafford asked.
“It was his phone number, and it sounded like him, but other than that? No.”
“Do you think he was missing already?” Radcliff asked.
Stafford shrugged.
Radcliff looked at Myers. “Why don’t you tell us what the Hell is going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean there’s something you’re not telling us.”
“You know, that’s not really your business, detective,” Stafford said.
“I’ve got a bullet wound that says it’s mine,” Margot countered.
“So do I, more than one,” Radcliff added.
Myers rubbed his chin like he was thinking about it, and then said, “It’s pretty simple. There’s a huge shakeup going on in certain segments of the local black market. Someone is moving to take over.”
“Someone?” Radcliff asked.
“Yeah, which is the problem. We haven’t been able to figure out who that someone is. At first, we figured the new leadership down south decided the cartel needed a bigger piece of the pie on this side of the border.”
“At first?”
“The muscle certainly seemed like them, but they’ve always preferred to run the export side since they have a monopoly on that side of the border, and all the intel we’ve got says that hasn’t changed. The best guess is they are backing whoever is making moves. The trick has been to flush out the person behind it all.”
“Is that why Burke was feeding Cassie Cole stories for her YouTube channel?” Margot asked.
“You know about that?”
“I do.”
“Yeah, that was the idea. It got them making moves but not enough to reveal who’s calling the shots.”
“Making moves? You mean, like murdering people?” Margot asked.
“They reacted a little more extremely than we anticipated.”
Margot took a deep breath to stifle her anger and then asked, “Why did you feed her stories about the Masterson Hot Tub Massacre? That had nothing to do with organized crime.”
“Are you sure? The wife was sleeping with Harry Lee and the victim was in deep.”
“He laundered money for Harry, but Harry wasn’t involved…”
“He did more than launder money. He was in deeper than anyone let on, possibly because they didn’t know. Like his replacement, Masterson kept his cards close to the vest.”
“His replacement?”
“If we’re right, he was moving all sorts of contraband, just about everything but drugs since that’s Cartel territory. When he died, it created an opening. We’ve been trying to find out who not only filled the void but expanded his piece of the pie considerably.”
“Mal told me he was doing something that would pay off, could it be him?” Margot suggested.
“The thought has crossed our minds. He set up the first killer they sent with a car and a place to stay. We also talked to that kid, Heller, in county lock-up. Heller is just a punk, but he’s a punk who knows people. Someone taking up Masterson’s business would want to talk to him. The timing works out pretty well too. He was completely off the grid until Masterson got himself killed and then he’s all over the place.”
“Mal isn’t the type to be in charge though,” Margot told them.
“No, he doesn’t, but does he know it? People can get ambitious, especially if they see an opportunity.”
“He told me he had a job that would let us run away together and be set for life. That doesn’t sound like somebody setting up shop.”
Myers shrugged. “It’s not a perfect theory, but perhaps you should consider that he might have been lying to you.”
“Wait,” Radcliff said. “If Masterson’s death started all this, was he murdered for this to get rolling?”
“It’s not impossible, but everything we’ve found still points to Lucas Lau doing it to impress his boss. Like his boss, he didn’t know how much stuff Masterson was into.”
“Harry Lee was under the impression Masterson worked for him,” Margot pointed out.
“That was Masterson’s genius; no one knew how much he did. Everyone thought he was a front for somebody else.”
“It looks like the new person, however, wants everyone to know they’re calling the shots,” Stafford added. “We’re guessing that’s what got Tommy killed. Harry wasn’t ready to go along with the program, and someone wanted to let him know they could get to him.”
“And you think he was talking to Mal before he got killed?”
“We do.”
“So, Mal is out there trying to be the new import king.�
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“Or working for the new import king,” Myers corrected. “That’s why we were hoping you could help us with Harry. Since he’s a big part of that business, he ought to know.”
“If killing Tommy was a message, it wouldn’t be very effective unless he knew who was sending the message,” Stafford added.
“You know, you just could have told me that, and I would have just asked him.”
“He’d tell you?”
“Probably not, but it’d work just as well as trying to trick him.”
There was another knock on the door and a doctor entered.
The doctor looked at Radcliff, “You’re the police officer who is my patient's significant other?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can stay,” he said. He turned to Stafford and Myers. “Are you the ones who wanted to question her?”
“Yes,” Myers confirmed.
“I think she needs a break,” the doctor instructed them, as though he expected resistance.
Myers shrugged. “We’re telling her more than she’s telling us anyway. We’re going to talk some more later, Margot.”
And with that, he and Stafford left.
Chapter 6
Margot spent another day in the hospital. She slept a lot but her sister, Melanie, spent a lot of time by her side, along with Radcliff. Apparently, they became best friends while Margot was napping.
Shaw somehow arrived right when Margot was supposed to check out.
“I’m taking you to Ms. X’s place until this is over,” he told her while she was waiting for the doctor to sign her out.
“Mrs. X?” Melanie asked.
“Yeah, for the purpose of this conversation, she’s Mrs. X. She doesn’t want her name out there.”
“This is the woman who runs the shelter for abused women?” Radcliff asked.
“Yeah, I like to call it a safe house though, since it is a house after all.”
“Either way, but why all the secrecy?”
“Her work has made some enemies. Some people have tried to intimidate her out of the safe house business, and she figured it would be harder to threaten her and her family if people didn’t know her real name.”
“I guess that makes sense. Do you know?”
Shaw laughed. “No, I don’t.”
“I’m fine going back to my place,” Margot told him.
“I think you should let him take you,” Melanie said.
“As much as I’d like to take you home with me, I agree as well,” Radcliff added.
“And do what? I can’t just sit around all day watching television.”
“According to the Doctor, you’re supposed to take it easy anyway,” Radcliff pointed out.
“He’s right. Even if you came in to work, you’d be limited to desk duty. Ms. X has Wi-Fi, so you can take your laptop and work from there. I’ve got plenty of potential workman’s comp claims they want us to look at, and most of that stuff is trolling social media anyway. I have to say, I kind of miss the days where you had to go watch the guy claiming to have a bad back to see if he’s going rock climbing. Just checking to see if he posted a video on Instagram doesn’t have the same thrill of the chase.”
“Which is why you’re going to have me do it.”
“Damn right. You getting stuck with that crap is the only good thing about all of this, as far as I’m concerned.”
“I’m glad somebody is getting something good out of it. What about clothes? It looks like you only brought one outfit.”
“I already packed everything for you,” Melanie explained. “The rest is already in Mr. Shaw’s car.”
“Sounds like you guys have the whole thing already figured out.”
“We do,” Radcliff replied.
“That’s a lot of effort when someone could just give me a ride home.”
“You’d do the same for any of us,” Shaw assured her as the doctor knocked on the door then let herself in.
She asked the routine questions and determined Margot was ready to check out if she followed the instructions she was given, which were basically not to do anything remotely strenuous over the next couple of weeks and not to overdo the pain medication.
Shaw left to go pull his car around and Radcliff helped her into the wheelchair. After she was seated, he handed Margot her purse. She hadn’t looked inside it during her time in the hospital. She was glad to find her phone was in there and was nearly as happy to find her can of mace, the telescoping steel baton, and her gun were inside as well.
“I can walk,” Margot protested to Radcliff, looking up from her purse.
“You wheeled me out, it’s my turn.”
Margot knew it was hospital policy, so it wasn’t worth fighting about it. She leaned back and let Radcliff wheel her out of the hospital. When they got there, Shaw was waiting.
Even though she felt she could have handled it on her own, Shaw and Radcliff helped her into his SUV.
Radcliff kissed her on the cheek before he said, “I’ll see you soon, and I’ll call you tonight.”
“You sure we can’t get together?”
“Ms. X runs a tight ship, but if Myers and his friend in the F.B.I. can’t get it done, I’m going to find the bastards myself.”
“I appreciate that, but don’t get yourself killed on my account.”
“That sounds like advice I’d give you.”
“Yeah, you need to be a better listener than I am.”
Radcliff smiled, said, “I’ll do my best,” and then stepped away.
Melanie leaned in close. “Take it easy, big sister. I’d like to keep you around.”
“I’d like to be around.”
“Good, you’ve got things to live for. Not the least of which is Rick. He’s a great guy, don’t blow it by getting yourself killed.”
“Rick?”
“Yeah, Rick. You know, the guy who loves you?”
“Loves me?”
“He might not have said so, but I can see it. I’d say you feel the same, which makes it weird that you still call him by his last name.”
“I guess that’s how I’ve always known him. It’s a cop thing.”
“I’m not a cop, so I'm calling him Rick. Take care of yourself.”