by Shawn Keys
“What’s that, handsome?” Karin flirted.
Which only made it worse. He laughed at himself for staring. “I said, life is strange. Calling me handsome only makes it weirder.” He found a soft smile of his own. “Especially coming from an enchanting woman like you.”
Her lips glowed a smile back at him for the compliment. “You’re only saying that because you met me wearing that elf costume.”
“Oh, that was sexy alright. Though I’ve never seen red jeans like that before. They were a fine choice.”
Karin focus drifted to the pile of clothing at the end of the corridor. “I took them off so I didn’t get them all covered in this crud.”
“I figured.”
“Want me to put them on again?”
Drake couldn’t help a grin. “Will you smack me if I say ‘no’, because I like how you are right now?”
Karin blew a kiss at him. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
“Yeah. Cara mentioned you three do yoga together to stay in shape. It’s working.”
Karin’s giggle cut right to Drake’s heart. Damn it feels good to feel worthy of flirting again! She took a few more bounces, got the pesky chip filled in, and treated Drake to a few more glimpses of her breasts jiggling inside the cups of her bra.
Finished for the moment, she settled back on her feet. “There! Second corridor done.” She frowned. “I’m trying to decide to keep going and do all this, or go back and paint what I’ve done.”
Drake sighed. She wasn’t saying it outright, but the question was a big hint. He should really stop leering and help out a little. The first cracks she had filled were probably dry by now. He was running out of excuses. “You should keep going. You’re on a roll. I’ll go find the paint cans and pry one open. I’ll work behind you. If you get to the end, we can work to finish it off together. Should be done in a couple hours.”
Karin nodded enthusiastically. “Partners!” She sighed. “I bet that’s why Patrick did what he did. He probably felt all alone.”
Taking the bait to stall from having to grab his painting gear, Drake asked, “What do you mean?”
Karin took a break in her efforts, leaning against the wall herself. “I guess he sort of liked me…”
Drake fought against rolling his eyes. From the descriptions he had been given, this Patrick Tully guy was somewhere in his mid-fifties. A little old to be digging on a mid-twenties woman like this. Then again, as he considered the incredibly sexy woman standing in front of him, he couldn’t really blame the guy either.
“…and flirted with me when I went into the office. Tricia never got along with him. That might be part of her punk background; she never gets along with anyone in authority.” She grinned. “Well, you know, not unless they make her. I swear, I saw Rusty…he was our Santa… bark at her once, and she sort of smiled this weird smile. Like she enjoyed having someone bite back at her, you know?”
Drake wasn’t the god of all things women, but he knew what Karin meant. For some reason, it didn’t surprise him that the bold, brash, uncompromising Tricia might appreciate a man with a spine who would stand up to her. “I think I get it.”
Karin went on, “Well, then there was Cara. Cara tended to push him for every cent she could get for us. Negotiated our salaries. Talked him into a couple extra bonuses if we did certain extra work. He avoided her as much as she avoided him unless money was involved. They always sent me to talk to him in the office for anything else. We chatted a couple times.”
“But you said he lost a partner?”
Her empathy in full swing, Karin said, “Not just a partner. His wife.” She sighed. “When he was setting the fire, he said it was a matter of life and death. I mean, I know people get out of their mind when they get divorced, but life goes on, you know? He wasn’t about to die.”
Drake was struggling to understand. “The police called him a millionaire and mall owner. Wasn’t he?”
“From what I understand, his wife backed his purchase. It’s her family that is rich, and she fronted the money. I don’t know the specifics, but he was super worried about what the divorce was going to mean for his investment.”
Drake wondered, “Who was he that he was married to a rich girl?”
Karin plucked her cell phone from her coat and flipped open her internet browser. It didn’t take her long to find what she needed. “Here it is. Socialite Hanna Tully has declared it quits with her long-time hubby Patrick Tully, owner and operator of the Blue Marlin mall.”
Drake scowled. “They put divorces in the newspaper?”
Karin smiled. “Not the newspaper, silly. This is the ‘About Town’ variety feed for the area on my social app. Used to be this sort of thing in newspapers. Obituaries. Marriages. Gossip. Now it’s all online. Much easier to snoop this way!” She laughed at the very idea. It wasn’t her thing, but she was savvy enough to find what she wanted.
Drake whistled in amazement. “There are some things I don’t miss since being on the street.”
Karin scrolled further down the screen. “Here we go; they have a history. Oh, wow. Patrick was an up-and-coming name in Advanced Chemistry. Some thought he might be in line for a Nobel prize. She married him at the height of his fame. But he lost his research grant when his work didn’t pan out. She supported him into real estate speculation and management.”
“Wow. If they are splitting, she might be trying to take it from him. Now, neither of them will get it. I’ll bet she’s livid. Insurance won’t pay out, and the value for resale is destroyed. They’ll be lucky to get the land value.” Drake shook his head.
“Well, at least he’ll be arrested. Should make the whole divorce easier, right?”
“Not always.” Drake shrugged. “After watching a couple friends go through it, I’ve learned nothing about divorce is ever easy.” He paused. “Was Patrick a stable sort of guy before this?”
Karin shrugged. “Oh, umm, I don’t want to talk bad about him.”
“He did try to kill you, you know.”
Karin sighed. “Yeah, but he was soooo stressed. I don’t think he really wanted to kill us. He kept apologizing. He was at the end of his rope.”
Drake attention sharpened. “It wasn’t his plan to kill you three?” He remembered asking them before, but Karin was describing it a little differently this time.
“Oh, no, total accident that we were there. He was out of his mind crazy. I’m so glad he is getting arrested. He might hurt himself once he finds out the insurance isn’t coming through.” Her lips turned downward. “Christmas is the lead season for suicides, you know.”
For some reason, Drake’s mind went to dark places. “Do you know what else it’s the lead season for?”
“What?”
“Murders. Usually right before the suicide.”
Karin’s face went white. “You can’t be serious!”
“Do you have the number for the case detectives?”
“Oh. Umm. No, I don’t. If anyone does, it would be Cara.”
Drake nodded. That made sense. “Might want to get dressed, Karin. I have a feeling we might not be here much longer. I don’t think this phone call is going to go well.” He started to walk away, then paused. “Do you know where Tully lived?”
“What? No.”
“Who would?”
“The police will –”
“– other than them.”
“I don’t know. And I don’t know who would tell us.”
“What about that CPA we hauled out of the fire?”
“Gene?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Karin shrugged. “Yes, he probably would. He did a lot of HR work for the mall. Umm, I think I have his number. He hired us and controlled our files. I’ve had to call him after hours a couple times.”
“Do what you can with that phone of yours. Think hard, Karin. Figuring out where Patrick lives really could be a matter of life or death.” Leaving her to think on that, he tore off back up the steps.
The whole way, he kept thinking, Please be wrong. Please be wrong.
* * *
Drake found Cara with Molly, together sweeping sheets over the beds. The rooms were tiny, split apart to give a small tidbit of privacy to anyone staying the night: a treasure they lacked so greatly when stuck in the open day after day.
He ran in. “Cara, do you have a card or recorded phone number or anything at all from that idiot detective from last night?”
Cara got confused. “Why? He really was a putz.”
“I’d be happier if you got the number of one of the other officers. But I figured he wouldn’t let that happen, being the lead on the case.”
Cara sighed. “Yeah. I was doing my best to get someone else as the contact. He pretty much insisted. Umm, just a sec. It’s probably in my coat.”
“Not on your phone?”
She gave a sniff of disdain. “I wouldn’t let him taint my contact list.”
Drake chuckled. “You’re channeling Tricia. Careful.”
Cara flashed him a smile, forgiving him for daring to be teasing them already. She fished around in her coat and came up with a card. She held it out to him.
Drake shook his head. “You make the call.”
She upturned her hands, as if asking him ‘what call?’
“Oh, right. Look, Karin and I were talking. Michaels wants me to be the bad guy here, and I think he’s either in Tully’s pocket or wants to be doing him a favor for some reason. He was trying so hard to look in a different direction. If that all comes crashing down, he’s going to make every effort to avoid arresting him. Give him time to run. But that’s not what Patrick is going to do.”
“It’s not? How do you know?”
Drake was at a loss. “Alright, maybe I don’t. But when he found you three in his mall, he panicked. He didn’t back off. His first instinct was to kill you three! He lost his cool, and he jumped to murder. Were you on the news this morning?”
“What?”
“The mall fire! Was it on the news this morning?”
“Oh, yeah, for sure. But nothing about Patrick.”
Drake shrugged. “Not sure they would have fingered him publicly. Did it mention you survived?”
“Not by name. But it said there were four survivors.”
Drake laughed, shaking his head helplessly.
“What?” Molly asked.
Drake’s laugh faded into a self-mocking chuckle. “Figures. I’m not on the survivor list, which means I’m on the suspect list they aren’t releasing yet. This Michaels guy doesn’t’ give up easy, that’s for sure.” He gestured at Cara’s phone. “Tully will have seen that story. He was expecting to see the fire reported along with some tragic deaths. Instead, he found out a whole pool full of witnesses are about to bring his dreams crashing down. If Michaels was on the ball, he would be arresting Tully before the story hit the air. Instead, he’s probably pulling his punches. So now, Tully is sitting at home panicking, losing his mind, and with time to kill. Literally. What do you think he’ll do?”
Cara shook her head. “He’s not even at home. His wife is divorcing him. He was living in some short-term rental apartment.”
“Not sure if that is better or worse. Call Michaels. Tell him to get in touch with him! If we’re lucky, I’m totally wrong and Tully has already been arrested. Or at home, licking his wounds.”
Rushing to punch in the number, Cara brought the phone to her ear. It rang, and finally connected. “Hello, Detective Michaels?”
Drake waited impatiently, only able to hear one side of the conversation.
…
Cara said, “Yes, sorry to wake you after such a late night. But I saw the news report. It was great to see, but I was thinking… Patrick probably saw it, too. He was really scared last night, and he tried to kill us because of it. Do you think he might be dangerous?”
…
Whatever Michaels had said, Cara grew a little shorter with him. “No, I realize he isn’t convicted of anything, but I thought my friends and I were fairly clear about what he did to us. Shouldn’t he at least be brought in for questioning?”
…
Cara snapped harder at the detective. “I understand it’s Christmas! Does that really apply to murderers trying to wrap an insurance scheme into a tidy little bow?”
…
“Yes, I do think that is entirely fair! Listen, Detective, I’m actually worried about him and the people near him. If he thinks his scheme has gone bad, he could be dangerous! To himself and others!”
…
“Take it under advisement? You’ll… take it under… Detective, please tell me you’re kidding! Hello? Detective?” Her phone dropped from her ear. “He hung up. That fucking shit hung up on me!”
Molly tisked her, “Language, dear!”
Cara shot her an exasperated look, then threw her hands up. “I can’t believe this!”
Drake turned to Molly, “I’m so sorry. I think we’re going to be running off before we’ve helped all that much.”
Molly blinked in surprise. “Are you kidding? I’m used to my volunteers being mostly city councilmen and CEOs getting their photo-op, staying for a half-assed half-hour of work, then fleeing. Any help is good, but you four have been working your butts off! Go. Do what you need to do.”
Cara asked, “What do we need to do?”
Drake answered with a question, “Can we use your car? Karin is trying to find out where Tully might be. People get desperate this time of year, and he’s already proven himself to be unstable. If he is desperate, then he’ll only have one target worth going for, since he doesn’t know where you three live.”
“You think he’ll hurt himself?”
Drake shrugged. “I know it sounds cold, but I honestly don’t care. Not after what he did to you girls. I’m afraid he’s too damned selfish to go down alone.”
Cara paled. “We need to get to his wife and kids!”
“He has kids?”
“He mentioned them once! I don’t know how many. But yes!”
“Shit!” He ignored the look Molly shot him. “I’ll get Tricia. Meet us at the front. We need to go. Fast.”
Chapter 7:
No Fun at All
Karin leaned over the back seat and pointed out the front window. “Right there! The next one on the left! See the long entrance driveway leading through the hedge?”
Drake grumbled, “There’s a gatehouse. Guess we’re lucky this isn’t an entire gated community. We never would have gotten in.”
Cara shrugged from behind the wheel. “Then again, maybe guards would have kept Patrick out.”
Tricia said, “Hey, he might not even be here. Gene didn’t have his new apartment on file. For all we know, he’s back there freaking out and waiting for the police.”
Cara shrugged. “Or heading for the airport to run.”
Drake added darkly. “Or dead on his floor.”
Karin added, unable to stop being hopeful. “Or maybe asleep! Maybe he’s sleeping in, drunk with victory, and hasn’t even seen the news!”
Drake had to admit it was possible. He was a loner. Up late, having taken a huge risk, burned his whole life… yeah, he could be in bed with the covers over his head and wishing it would all turn out. No way. I’m not that lucky.
Turning the wheel, Cara pulled off the street and up to guardhouse. She powered down her windows and called out, “Hello?”
No response.
Drake grimaced. Not a good sign. He had a bad thought, and didn’t want any of the women seeing what he was scared they were going to find. That wasn’t the sort of thing a person forgot. “Pull up a little, Cara. Use all the room you have before the barrier.” He was behind her in the backseat, on the driver’s side. He lowered his own window, and called out, “Excuse me? Anyone in there?”
No response.
He unlatched the door and stepped out. Peering around the corners, old instincts made him check for dangers rather than rushing in. He finally poked his hea
d through the small window into the guard shack.
A security guard with the nametag ‘Phillip’ was on the ground. Two bullet holes punctured his chest. They weren’t bleeding.
Drake pulled away, cursing under his breath. He spat on the ground in disgust.
Cara called out to him, “What is it?”
A chill part of him took over. The frozen hind-brain that let him continue operating in combat even when death started to show its ugly face. In a hard voice, he stopped suggesting and started commanding. “Karin, get out of the car.” While he waited, he punched the button that opened the car barricade. Then, before he thought too hard about it, he reached down and pulled the guard’s pistol from his holster. The guy hadn’t even had a chance to unsnap it. He had known the person who shot him. Tully. Goddamnit…
The women responded, not even questioning. She circled around from the other side.
Drake held up a hand, palm out to stop her. “Stay over there, Karin. Please. You don’t need to see this. Get on the phone. 9-1-1. Tell them a man is dead, and give them the address.” He grabbed the door and climbed back into the car. He told the others. “Patrick shot the guard.”
Tricia gawked at him. “So… we’re calling the police and waiting right here, right?”
Drake met her eyes. “Karin’s calling them. But there are kids and his wife up there in that house. Think he’s waiting? It might already be too late. The guard isn’t breathing. But the people up there might be. Either drive me in, or get out now and let me go.”
Cara swallowed, but shifted the car into drive.
Tricia wasn’t getting out. Her finger was white as they clawed into the armrest, but she didn’t leave.
The gate finished pulling out of the way, and Cara raced through. She wasn’t a stunt driver, but she did her best impression pulling up to the front of the palatial house. The car squealed a little as it pulled to a halt.
Drake pried open his door and ran around the hood. He raked the front of the house, knowing they were pretty much trespassing here. He had no idea where to start.
Cara and Tricia joined him on either side.