Life's a Beach Then You Die

by Falafel Jones

  Chapter Thirteen

  I left Ben Horton and drove home to an empty house, Mariel was still at her sister’s. I wanted to see her but if she was scared enough to stay there, my visit would only add to her worries. She’d wonder if anyone followed me.

  When I went inside, the quiet and stillness surprised me. It’s amazing how much a small woman can fill up a big house. The place felt different without Mariel there, like I was in someone else’s home.

  It was after lunchtime, so I decided I’d better eat while I could. Once I started thinking about food I remembered how good the onions and peppers smelled at breakfast and again at lunch yesterday. Then I was surprised to realize only one day had passed since Ed dropped off the notebook and Mariel left. I usually looked forward to making a nice lunch but I wasn’t much in the mood for that now. I wanted something easy so I nuked a veggie burger, poured some diet Tonic into a glass and squeezed an orange wedge into the soda. The fruit came from one of the trees in the backyard and its juice tasted better than any I ever had. Having grown up in New York, I got a big kick out of having our own orange tree.

  On the way home from talking to Ben Horton, I had been thinking. We should probably turn him over to the Police. When Ed called me back, I was going to suggest it. I knew from his emails Horton was out of town during the break-in at my house, but he was the only person I knew of who had a connection to Ray and Ray was the only connection I had to the break-in. Maybe the Police could sweat him to reveal more information.

  I was also thinking it might be helpful if I could talk to Corky Eastwood. While I watched my burger going round and round in the microwave, I figured she probably wouldn’t talk to me, but hey, what did I have to loose?

  The microwave dinged. I ate my lunch and tried to plan my approach to calling her. Nothing came to mind. I was just going to have to dial and see what came out of my mouth.

  After cleaning up the kitchen, I went into my office and looked up the number for EFH. I dialed and a woman with a professional sounding voice answered. She had perfect enunciation with no hint of any regional accent.

  “Good afternoon. EFH, how may I direct your call?”

  “Hi, I’d like to speak with Corky Eastwood, please.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. Ms. Eastwood is unavailable.” She responded so quickly and so automatically that I got the feeling Ms. Eastwood was never available. Big surprise.

  “When might she be available?”

  “I’m sorry sir, but that’s hard to say.”

  “Well, then how does one get in touch with her?”

  “Well, sir. You can leave a message, if you like.”

  “Sure. Why not? Please tell her Max Fried would like to speak with her. I have information for her regarding a risk to one of her investments.”

  “Is that Jack Snead?”

  “No, Max Fried. M-a-x F-r-i-e-d”

  “Yes, sir. How can she reach you?”

  I gave the receptionist my phone number, hung up and looked out the window. Since I didn’t see any pigs flying, I figured it might be a long time before Corky returned my call.

  I sat there staring at the phone, trying to decide what to do next, when it rang, startling the hell out of me. Was Corky Eastwood so impressed she was returning my call immediately? I fantasized as I picked up the phone.

  “Hello?” I said, deepening my voice and trying to speak without my New York accent in order to sound my most professional.

  “Max?” a man’s voice inquired. “Is that you? It’s Ed.”

  “Oh, hi, Ed. What’s up?”

  “I spoke with the Police and I’ll have that inventory list tomorrow. I also have access to Ray and Kathleen’s for the bug check. We can do it at anytime.”

  “Great.”

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “Yeah, well, I was trying to reach someone on the phone and got blown off by her secretary.”

  “Yeah? Who were you trying to reach?”

  “Corky Eastwood.”

  “Corky Eastwood? You mean Zorky’s daughter?”

  I was beginning to wonder if I was the only one who didn’t know about Zorky and Corky. “Yeah.”

  “Hell! I can help you there. You know, I wasn’t always a beach bum lawyer. At one point when I practiced in New York, I was Zorky’s real estate attorney. He had a bazillion lawyers. He had a team for each area of law. He only used specialists. For a while, I was his real estate guy. I headed up a team of attorneys and paralegals. I also handled Corky’s New York townhouse and her place in Key West. I can get you through. What do you want to talk to her about?”

  “She’s listed as Vice President of Ben Horton’s business, PC Gadgets. I want to know the connection between her and Ben.”

  “Hmm. Yeah. I see.” Ed paused. “Tell you what. I have an attorney-client relationship with her. You’re working for me. I can get you access provided you respect the attorney-client privilege. You can’t use anything she tells you against her. OK?”

  “Ed. I’m not a cop. I can’t use anything against anyone.”

  “You know what I mean Max. Don’t get her into any awkward position like the one Ray Kenwood and his wife are in.”

  I think what Ed really wanted to say was “Don’t screw things up for her like you did for the Kenwoods.”

  I wanted to point out that not only was Ray killed before I got involved but that the reason he was dead and his estate was in trouble was because he was a crook. It probably would have done me no good so instead, I just said. “OK.”

  “I mean this, Max.”

  “OK, me too, Ed. Thanks.”

  “Sure. Give me a couple hours, maybe a day, I’ll have her call. Any idea when you want to check the Kenwood place for bugs?”

  “How about tomorrow morning?”

  “Did you say ‘morning’? You must really want to get this thing settled. How’s tomorrow at 9:00? I’ll meet you at Ray and Kathleen’s. That way, I’ll be done in time to help Sheila move her stuff.”

  “So you decided. She’s agreed to move into your place.”

  “Yup, going to give it a try, see what happens.”

  “Good for you. Uh, Ed?”

  “Yes?”

  “One other thing I want to discuss. I think we need to turn Horton over to the Police.”

  “For what?”

  “Theft of trade secrets.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Ray’s our only connection to the break-in and Horton’s our only connection to Ray. Besides, this might all be connected to Ray’s murder.”

  “How can the police hold him?”

  “Well, we have the emails from Ray to Horton selling him secrets and corresponding wire transfers to Ray’s accounts. But we don’t have any way to get proof Horton wired Ray the money. The police can obtain subpoenas. Maybe more importantly, Horton not only admitted he knew Ray over 20 years ago; he admitted he had threatened to kill him. Maybe the Police should take a closer look at Ray’s death.”

  “Horton threatened Ray? He admitted that? When? Why?”

  “When I stopped by to see him this afternoon. He said it was a matter of record in a court case against him and Ray when they were younger. Personally, I think he told me so I’d find him more believable when he denied seeing Ray in the last 20 years.”

  “Max! Talking to you is like pulling teeth. You keep giving me little pieces of information that beg more detail. You visited Horton? What’s this about a court case?” Ed let out a long breath over the phone.

  “After we talked, I drove past Horton’s office on the way home. I decided to stop in and chat about the crash. I figured it would be ok to ask questions an accident investigator might ask. When we started talking, Horton volunteered a whole lot more. He told me he and Ray were arrested for smuggling Cuban cigars. When Ray turned on Horton for a lighter sentence, Horton threatened to kill him.”

  “But, he claims he didn’t?”

  “Yeah. He claims.”

  “Max. You just dumpe
d a load on me. Let me see if I have this. You think there’s a case to be made against Horton for killing Ray and breaking into your place, even though you say he was out of town at the time. You want the police to arrest him for his part in the trade secret theft and then sweat him for murder, breaking and entering, etc. at your place, bugging my office even though he was away during the break-in and when Ray died.”

  “Sure.”

  “And this makes sense to you because, even though we don’t think Horton burgled your place, he may have killed Ray and whoever did burgle your place and bugged mine has to have some connection to the trade secret thefts and the only ‘whoever’ we can identify with a connection is Ben Horton.”

  “Yes.”

  “What about Corky? Was she involved in this theft from A. V. Designs? Will arresting Horton incriminate her?”

  “Not if she’s innocent.”

  “No, Max. Fifth amendment, even if she’s guilty, it’s my job to protect her interests.”

  “She didn’t seem to have an office in Horton’s building and I didn’t find anything to indicate she knew what Ray and Horton were up to. It looks like she’s just an investor.”

  Ed let out another long breath. “OK. I’ll call the D. A. again. Last time I spoke with him, he agreed to leave Ray’s estate alone, if I gave him somebody else who happened to be guilty and alive. I’ll have to do this sooner or later. Look, email me a copy of that report you made but revise it to address only the theft. Leave out Corky’s being a V.P. in Horton’s company and the irrelevant personal stuff I originally asked for. Include copies of the incriminating documents and explanations of what they mean. I’ll send it on to the D. A.”

  “Sure, Ed. I’ll do it right now.”

  It didn’t take me too long. I had already stored all of the evidence in a folder on my iPod. All I had to do was document the documents and explain the explanations. I did that and emailed the files to Ed.