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Hit and Run

Page 18

by Amy Shojai


  Chapter 39

  THEODORE “TEDDY” WILLIAMS woke with a start. He looked around the small guest bedroom, at first disoriented, and then remembered. Despite visiting his son’s family for the past three weeks, he still startled awake, expecting to view the familiar home he’d shared with Molly. He blinked hard, and his shoulders drooped. The disease took Molly’s mind and memories long before she’d gone to her final rest.

  After he sold their little house in Heartland, Texas—good riddance to the garden that poisoned her—Teddy traveled to Middlebury, Indiana to pick up his custom Coachman Nova. The compact motor home had everything a single senior citizen needed. For the first six months after Molly’s death, he’d traveled in “Nellie-Nova” to all the places they’d planned to visit together. Finally, out of loneliness, boredom, and fear he’d lose his own marbles, Teddy came out of retirement.

  With his custom computer and high-speed hot spot, he could work anywhere. He didn’t need the money, but the extra would be a blessing to his kids when he finally rejoined Molly. When his latest contract brought him to South Bend, he accepted his son’s invitation—insistence—he stay with them through the holidays.

  He stared at the clock on the nightstand. 5:00 a.m. blinked back at him. He’d gotten four hours of shuteye, better than some nights. The older he got, the less sleep he required. It didn’t bother him, he used to pull all-nighters all the time. Molly got aggravated, but Teddy always loved working at night. Nobody interrupted with phone calls, and even the birds shut their beaks.

  “Might as well get a head start on the day.” Lordy, how low he’d fallen, talking to himself. With a groan, he levered himself upright to swing his legs off the bed. “Getting old ain’t for weenies,” he muttered.

  Teddy quickly dressed, picked up his phone and charger, and opened the bedroom door. Despite his caution, the hinge-squeak woke the giant dog sleeping at the end of the hall. He put a finger to his lips in a quiet signal, but that didn’t stop the Great Dane from yawning as loud as a siren. Kismet belonged to the grandkids, but had taken an instant liking to Teddy. He’d always loved dogs, but had to keep his bedroom door shut or ended up with 120-pounds of lovin’ pup crowding him off the bed.

  Usually Kismet slept with one of the kids, but both girls were at sleep-overs to mark the beginning of their Christmas break. His daughter-in-law had left on a business trip yesterday. For the next few days, it was just Teddy, his son Theo Jr, and Kismet. They’d enjoy eating lots of unhealthy carryout and playing too many video games.

  Teddy stroked the dog’s massive dark neck and scratched beneath Kismet’s chin. She leaned against him with a groan of enjoyment. He had to catch himself, bracing a hand on the wall, when she knocked him off balance. “Gotta go to work,” he whispered. “Sorry, there’s not room for you.” While Nellie-Nova offered plenty of space for an aging white-hat hacker, a dog Kismet’s size proved too much. One sweep of her tail cleared tabletops.

  He didn’t bother with a coat when he quietly left the house. Teddy hurried to the motor home parked in the drive. He walked carefully, belatedly wishing he’d donned boots. More snow had fallen after Theo last cleared the path. Don’t fall and break a hip. Bad enough, Theo constantly pestered him about wearing one of those embarrassing Life Alert call buttons. He snorted. “I’m not that old.”

  As he unlocked the door, he felt his phone buzz, a reminder to switch it off silent mode. Teddy climbed into Nellie-Nova before glancing at the caller I.D. A grin nearly split his face. He shut and locked the door—Theo lived in a nice neighborhood, but Teddy always took precautions—and answered. “September, what a nice surprise. Guess you got my card? Merry Christmas, a week early.”

  “Merry Christmas to you, too. Sorry to wake you.” She hesitated, and then rushed on. “I’ve missed you, Teddy. I loved your card. Are you okay? Visiting your son’s family, you said.” She sounded just as chipper as he remembered.

  “You bet. Theo and his wife spoil me rotten with home-cooked meals. I usually just do take out, and reheat stuff. Gained a few pounds.” He switched on the lights, and booted his computers, brow suddenly furrowing. “It’s dang early to be calling. Are you okay? Not in any trouble again, are you?”

  She sighed. “I need a favor.”

  Here we go. Trouble followed the young woman. He’d come to think of September as a daughter. She’d been there for him during Molly’s illness and last days, and helped to punish the people responsible. “Tell me.”

  She told him about the thumb drive. “I’ve got no computer to see if there’s anything on it. Then I remembered you’re here in South Bend.”

  “Wait, you’re here?” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “You left out that part. And why you’re here. Sounds like more than a simple favor.” September’s life was anything but simple.

  She laughed ruefully. “I’m parked just down the block. I didn’t want to barge in unannounced. I can tell you the whole story, but I don’t want to intrude if your son objects.” He heard a woof, and smiled despite himself when she added, “Shadow wants to say hello. Macy’s here, too, and... well, I owe you a bunch of hugs.” Her hopeful tone proved irresistible.

  He shook his head, and blew out his breath. “Don’t go to the house. I’m in the motor home parked outside.” Teddy couldn’t help a thrill of anticipation. The contract job kept his brain going, but could wait until daylight. He needed something to get his blood pumping.

  Teddy opened the door, grinning with pleasure when she arrived, big black shepherd in tow with a stuffed toy in his mouth. Teddy enfolded the tall, slim woman in a bear hug while Shadow whined and wagged at their feet. “Your puppy sure filled out. Looks like a macho dog, now, except for the stuffie. Reminds me of the shepherd Molly and I had years ago.” He offered his hand and Shadow dropped his toy, and pressed his cheek into it. “Come on in. Nellie-Nova’s small, but she’s mine.”

  September unzipped and slipped off her parka, pulled off some sort of odd-looking knit cap, and sat on the twin bed on one side. She spread her coat beside her and invited Shadow to lay on it, as she looked around. “Sweet ride, Teddy. I’d really like to catch up with you, and hear all your stories. I enjoyed your cards and postcards from your travels.”

  “Time enough later. Sounds like you’re in a time crunch.” He took his place on the opposite bed that doubled as a couch, and pulled the mini table that contained one of his computer keyboards closer. “The thumb drive?”

  She pulled a lanyard over her head, and handed it to him. “Déjà vu, right? But I don’t know if this one’s encrypted.”

  He grinned. “Like that matters?” Teddy plugged it into a port, typed on the keyboard, and the password page came up. Teddy swiveled a second computer screen around so that September could also see. “Piece of cake. I’ll run it through my password-cracking software. Meanwhile, bring me up to date. What kind of files do you expect? You helping Combs on another case? Are y’all engaged yet?”

  She shook her head, and blushed. “He’s at Disney with his kids. His ex-wife isn’t getting any better, and they needed a break.”

  He nodded. She’d been infected with the same poison that killed Molly.

  “I used to live in South Bend. My former mother-in-law invited me to take care of family stuff. Her son—my husband—died two years ago tomorrow.” She wrung her hands, and then stilled them when Shadow licked them.

  “Oh.” He knew she’d been married to a cop. Birthdays and wedding anniversaries ached your heart, but a death anniversary hurt the worst.

  “Anyway, Angela found a bunch of Chris’s investigation papers in a lockbox. She thought it had something to do with me, and that Chris wanted me to know. So she sent me the key. After I got the files, we planned to meet.”

  “So that’s on the thumb drive. I thought you said papers.”

  She shook her head, and started to explain, when the name clicked. “Wait. Angela Day? The woman who just died? She was on the news.” He took off his glasses and polished them on
the hem of his sweater. “Somebody stole her car, drove it through the garage, and left her body swinging from the rafters. With a coat hanger.” He shivered, and put the glasses back on.

  She flinched. “That’s her. We stayed in her house Sunday night but somebody came after us for Chris’s papers.” She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “I only got a quick look at his notes, so I don’t know how it involved me.” She whispered, “But Chris always wanted to save me, to help me heal. Now his mother’s been killed, and the attacker came after me, too. And oh, Teddy, if his old investigation was about me, maybe that’s why Chris was killed. It’s my fault.”

  “Hold your horses. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He checked the computer. The software continued to work its magic. “Once we get this cracked, we’ll learn what Chris knew. None of this is your fault, September.”

  She stroked Shadow’s ears. “Oh, those records don’t belong to Chris. They come from another murder victim.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “How long have you been in town? Already two victims—”

  “Three. Almost four. That I know about.” She jutted out her chin, and ticked names off, counting on the fingers of one hand. “Bradley Detweiller owned a Chicago lab. That’s the one thing I learned from Chris’s files. He committed suicide, and trashed all his records.”

  “Kind of a tenuous connection, especially if you don’t have Chris’s records anymore.” Teddy fiddled with the keyboard.

  “Maybe.” She twisted her hands again. “The police tried to recover Detweiller’s files by visiting his bookkeeper, a woman named Sissie Turpin here in South Bend. The Chicago police sent my friend Tee Teves to interview the bookkeeper. I told you about Tee last year when I helped with her police dog.”

  He nodded. “The cop from Hawaii, I remember. She came to Texas to investigate that trafficking ring.” He watched the screen, and as soon as it clicked open, he began scrolling through the files. Sure enough, most were bookkeeping documents. “So this Detective Teves—”

  “Officer Teves. She wants to make detective. I think that’s part of why she pushed for this assignment. And why she won’t slow down for anything.” She nodded at the computer. “The thumb drive files belonged to the bookkeeper.”

  Great. A gung-ho young cop roped September into another skirt-the-rules situation. “So you’ve got Detweiller dead, Angela a suicide, and I’m guessing Turpin makes number three? Suicide again?”

  “Right. Except we don’t think any were suicides. Angela’s doesn’t make sense. And there’s a witness to the bookkeeper’s staged suicide, a young girl who nearly became the fourth victim.” She smiled. “The girl, Charlie Cider, put the lanyard on one of Turpin’s cats, so Macy tracked him down to recover the thumb drive.” She rubbed her eyes. “The two cats are in my car.”

  Teddy looked up sharply. “Did you say Macy tracked the cat? Well, I’ll be.” He looked back at the screen. “Cats, huh? That explains some of these files. Pedigrees and sales records. So Turpin’s not only a crooked bookkeeper, but also a cat breeder. Look at this.” He pointed to the screen. “Some sales coincide with big cash transfers going back years and years.” He squinted, and looked again. “Is that you listed as purchasing a cat?” He moved the cursor on the screen, to highlight a file.

  She already knew, didn’t need to look. “Macy came from Turpin’s cattery. Victor got him for me.” She blushed again.

  He knew nightmare memories still haunted her, even if he didn’t know all the details. But she had grown so much stronger than the fragile girl he’d first met. Much of that had to do with her cat Macy. And of course, with Shadow. “Victor’s where he can’t hurt you anymore,” he offered softly. “Surely he’ll come to trial soon.”

  “Oh, I’ll be there to testify, and see Victor convicted.” Her eyes shone with anger. “Anyway, Tee discovered the bookkeeper’s body. She gave the paper records she found to Detective Steele. He’s the local lead investigating Angela’s death and the attack on Charlie.” She hesitated. “Tee and I believe the same man attacked me at Angela’s house yesterday, and at Turpin’s a little while ago. So that’s another connection that ties everything together.” She put her face in her hands, and looked at him through a curtain of dark hair. “Teddy, it’s a huge mess. I need your help to unravel it all, especially to figure out how Chris thought I’m involved.”

  He sat back, hands on his knees, and stared at her for a long moment. “You’ve got police departments in two states handling multiple suspicious deaths. This thumb drive holds answers. We can’t interfere with an investigation—”

  “We can turn it over later this morning, Teddy. Can’t we make a copy or something? If it’s about me, don’t I have the right to know?”

  He tried to interrupt her, but she bulldozed on, voice growing strident.

  “I think Detective Steele might have his own agenda.” Shadow tried to climb into her lap. She pushed him away, voice still rising. “I’m okay, baby-dog, just settle.”

  “What’re you talking about?” She couldn’t mean the police were involved.

  “You know where he spent half the night? Do you?” She motioned to the computer. “Go ahead and look it up. The local news streamed the coverage. Steele got called to the fire that killed Judge Southgate and his family, just hours after Southgate tried to get him to arrest me for Angela’s death. They’re all involved, Teddy, it’s all connected.”

  “Southgate? What the hell...” He returned to Turpin’s records on the computer screen, clicked through a couple of files, and found the name. “There it is. George Southgate bought a cat from Sissie Turpin eighteen years ago. But he paid $25,000.”

  Chapter 40

  SEPTEMBER STARED AT the screen, and touched her throat, trying to digest the information. Turpin’s cat sales record proved Judge Southgate’s involvement. But in what? Overpriced cats?

  “What? Why? That can’t be right, $25,000 for a cat.” Shadow tried to get in her lap again. She finally paid attention to him, took several deep breaths, and consciously lowered her voice. “Macy’s priceless to me, but I’ve never heard of that kind of sale in the fancy. The paper files Tee gave to Steele mentioned no prices.”

  Teddy scrolled down the page to find the entry about Macy. “No dollar amount here for Macy. Just says, ‘in exchange for services rendered,’ whatever that means. But see,” he used his mouse to point, “Others besides Southgate bought high-dollar cats. Looks like one every three or four years. See, there’s $25K sales to K.R. Jacobs at the same time as G.W. Southgate. Those are the most recent. Others go back decades, ranging from $5.000-$25,000 payments.”

  Her mouth fell open and she grabbed Shadow’s fur. She scanned row after row of kitten sales with large dollar amounts listed intermittently. “It’s not every sale, though. Some fees fall in line with the norm for pet quality Maine Coon cats, or a few hundred more for show prospects. Those with the five-figure amounts—there’s something else going on.” Despite her excitement, September yawned as the lack of sleep combined with a post-adrenalin slump.

  Teddy caught the yawn, and echoed it. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “We separate out the high-dollar outliers and see what else they have in common.” He typed rapidly, and soon had a screen with more than twenty names spanning thirty years. “The dates are important, too. If I had to guess, Turpin used cat sales to hide or justify payoffs.”

  “That’s it! Teddy, you’re brilliant. The Clear Choice indictment accused Detweiller of falsifying lab results. I bet those dates coincide with high profile court cases.” She yawned again, and flexed her neck.

  He grinned. “Give me a couple of hours to dig deeper. By the way, how long do cats live?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Why? What does that matter?”

  “Based on the dates, if actual real cats exchanged hands, it’d be good to know how many might still be around.” He didn’t look at her as he continued typing. The screen rearranged boxes and diagrams as he continued his research.
r />   “Healthy cats live into their late teens, some into their twenties. Siamese live the longest, for some reason. Genetics and environment play into that, though. And there are lines of Maine Coons predisposed to hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, a heart condition. That reminds me, I need to give Macy his medication.” She yawned and stretched again. “Would you mind if I brought the cats in here, Teddy? It’s warmer than my car. I’ve got cat carriers in my car, and haven’t had a chance to get them settled.”

  “Sure, why didn’t you say so earlier? Even with lots of fur, bet it’s chilly out there.”

  September hurried to collect Macy and his new buddy. She retrieved and unfolded the extra carrier, loaded the cats, and lugged them to Teddy’s vehicle. Shadow followed, keeping watch in her wake. He stared down the road, ears pricked and neck arched. She didn’t blame him. She still kept one eye over her shoulder and startled at the slightest unexpected sound.

  Once inside, Macy willingly opened his mouth for his medication, and then pawed her arm impatiently for his treat. “Sorry, I left the treats in my car. Teddy, do you have anything?”

  He hooked a thumb at the small refrigerator. “Does he like boiled eggs? I always keep a couple for a quick protein snack.”

  “Macy eats nearly anything.” She removed the bowl with two shelled eggs, and set it on the counter. Shadow immediately sat, with a dramatic look of expectation. “Okay. Everyone gets a taste.” September cut one egg in small pieces. Macy gobbled up his portion, and licked his whiskers with appreciation. Shadow gulped his, and wagged for more. Sherlock sniffed, and turned away.

  Teddy watched with interest. “Picky eater?” He nodded at the computer. “It’s running a program.”

  “Likely the food’s too cold. When it warms up a bit, he may eat it. Cats like their food body temperature. Like a mouse.” She grinned when he made a face. “So, answers in an hour?”

  “Probably more questions. But yes, the program should give us a road map.” He tipped his head to one side, eyeing her. “I don’t sleep much these days, but you look ready to fall over. Why not take a nap while we wait?”

 

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