by Ron Fisher
“Let me know how it goes,” I said. “Just don’t broadcast my interest.”
“Of course,” he said, and left to look for Sam Squires.
I walked back to the table and sat down. Kelly, Natasha, and Alvin were looking expectantly at me.
“That was Brandon Wise,” I said. “He’s the insurance guy investigating Kroll’s claim for his dead horse. He and I have struck up a partnership of sorts. It seems that Wilson Kroll’s vet, Sam Squires, has had an attack of conscience and confessed to a long list of fraudulent activities he and Kroll committed in Kroll’s stud service business. He also admitted that Kroll was responsible for his horse’s death, and blamed it on Jamal to collect the insurance money. The reason he killed the horse was that it had become infertile, and if that got out, it would not only have destroyed the horse’s value, but the value of an investment syndicate Kroll had created around it—leaving his investors with huge financial losses. The insurance money was Kroll’s way of placating these investors without suffering an out-of-pocket loss himself. Squires gave Mr. Wise a signed confession to all this.”
“Oh my God, J.D.,” Natasha said. “Does that mean we’ve busted Wilson Kroll?”
“That’s the way it looks,” I said, and turned back to Alvin. “This clears Jamal's name. He's innocent.”
“Did Squires say anything about what happened to Jamal?” Alvin asked.
I frowned at Alvin and tilted my head ever so slightly toward Natasha, cutting my eyes at her and quickly back at him. She wasn’t paying attention and didn’t see me, but Alvin got it and gave me a slow nod. What I had to say, I didn’t want her hearing. Sam Squires suggested we talk to Teddy Crane. I didn’t want Natasha to get upset and run to Teddy. I wanted to spring this on him myself, to see how he reacted—with Alvin along. It was time Teddy fessed up, and a little Alvin-type persuasion might just help.
Alvin stood up and pulled out his phone. “I’m going somewhere quiet and call Aunt Millie. At least clearing the boy’s name will be of some comfort to her.”
“And I need to go to the little girl’s room,” Natasha said. “Want to join me, Kelly?”
She didn’t, and after Natasha had left I found her looking at me.
“What are all these little eye signals back and forth with Alvin?” she said.
“You don’t miss anything, do you?” I said.
“We’re supposed to be working together. So tell me what’s going on, or you’re getting more stitches in your head.”
“Brandon Wise told me things I didn’t want Natasha to know. Sam Squire’s confession indicates her friend Teddy Crane in the horse shooting, and maybe in what happened to Jamal. Natasha has a blind side when it comes to Teddy, and she would run to tell him. I want to confront him first.”
“So, you think Teddy Crane shot the horse and is responsible for Jamal’s disappearance?” Kelly said.
“Here's how I see it. Wilson Kroll was looking for a way to get rid of his high-priced horse, which had become infertile, and he needed to still be able to collect on the insurance. Sam Squires’ confession proves that. Then Kroll learns that Jamal, his stable boy, overheard a conversation about the horse’s infertility. Kroll can’t allow that to get out, so everything comes to a head. Then Kroll has a big idea. He’ll make Jamal a scapegoat, then get rid of him before he can talk. Kroll fires Jamal with the plan to fabricate a reason for Jamal to hold a grudge. Then Kroll pays Teddy Crane—who desperately needs money—to kill the horse, set Jamal up with the rifle in his mother’s shed, and do away with Jamal. All the while Kroll is off somewhere with an iron clad alibi. What’s the murder of one black kid when it comes to several million bucks?”
“Poor Jamal,” Kelly said. “He didn't deserve this. I feel so sorry for his mother and brother.”
“It’s not much of a consolation, but Sam Squires confession now proves Jamal didn’t kill Kroll’s horse. At least that clears Jamal's name.”
“The rest of it’s going to be hard to prove, though, isn’t it?” Kelly said.
“Doctor Squires’ confession nails Wilson Kroll for the fraud and for having his horse killed. So he’s toast. But the part Teddy Crane played in it, Squires left a little vague. He obviously knows Teddy was involved, but it doesn’t look like he has provable details. I think Kroll kept him in the dark about that. There’s not enough in Squires’ confession to convince the police, either. That’s why I need to find Squires and talk to him.”
“But the police will know now that Jamal didn’t shoot the horse,” Kelly said, “so why would they still believe he ran away?”
“They’ll probably say Jamal knew Kroll was going to blame him and was afraid the police wouldn’t believe him over Kroll. But when Jamal disappeared, I don’t think he even knew about the horse shooting, let alone that Kroll was going to blame him. Besides, I think Jamal would've told his mother if he’d decided to take off somewhere—whatever the reason. I believe he’s lying at the bottom of a lake or in a shallow grave somewhere. And unfortunately, finding the body might be the only way to prove that to the cops.”
Kelly absorbed everything I said. In the wrinkle in her brow, I could almost see her newspaper mind outlining the story for the next edition of the Clarion. She was wearing her professional face. It had been a while since I’d seen it, and it was easy to forget that underneath all the beauty and sexiness was a serious, intelligent, newsperson. It was in her genes, just like my grandfather, and I had to admit, mine, too.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Alvin and Natasha came back just as the next race was about to start. I asked Alvin how it went with Millie and Taylor Johnson.
“It is what it is,” he said. “They’re glad to get Jamal’s good name back, but it’s a long way from getting the boy himself back.”
I told Kelly and Natasha that Alvin and I were about raced out, and were going to look for Brandon Wise, the insurance investigator, to see if he’d located Sam Squires. As I’d told Kelly, I wanted to talk to Squires myself, to see if he could add anything to Teddy’s involvement in Jamal’s disappearance.
Kelly looked at me like she wanted to go with us, but seemed to realize we didn’t want Natasha along, so she stayed to keep her company.
When we were out of earshot, I told Alvin what Squires wrote about Teddy in his confession, and told him that while we’d keep an eye out for Wise and Squires, we were going somewhere else first. “Teddy’s working at the infield barns and paddock area,” I said, “and it’s time we had a little heart to heart with him.”
“Bout’ time,” Alvin said, wearing that face I was hoping would scare the bejesus out of Teddy.
We found Teddy easily; he was leading a horse from the barns to the paddock area through a crowd of onlookers. He saw us coming, and for a second it appeared he wanted to run. His eyes darted from us to the barn then back again. He must have chosen fight over flight because he stayed with the horse and fixed us with an angry glare as we approached.
“We need to talk to you,” I said.
“I’m busy,” he said, as he continued to lead the horse. “I can’t talk right now.”
Alvin took a step toward him. “You ain’t got a choice.” Teddy looked at Alvin, who was glaring back at him. Teddy blinked first.
Teddy turned to an older man coming from the barns behind him, leading another horse.
“Larry,” Teddy held out the reins to the approaching man. “Take Song Girl for me; I need to take a break.”
Larry took Teddy’s horse, along with the horse he was already leading, and moved off into the paddock area.
Teddy turned and headed toward the barn. We followed him.
Just inside, away from the crowds, he faced us. “So, what’s so goddamned important you’ve got to talk to me right now?”
“You know Sam Squires?” I asked. “Wilson Kroll’s veterinarian?”
“What if I do?”
“He just ratted out Wilson Kroll for a fraudulent scheme with Kroll’s stud-service. Signed a c
onfession to it, and turned it over to the insurance investigator working Kroll’s insurance claim.”
Teddy’s eyes widened, but he didn’t speak.
“Kroll is done,” I continued, and then stretched the truth a bit. “Squires also said Kroll had you shoot the horse, and you helped frame Jamal Johnson for it. That’s conspiracy to commit insurance fraud, my friend, and maybe a lot more—if Jamal turns up dead. Which I think he will.”
His complexion went a shade lighter.
“Jamal Johnson ran the fuck away. I didn’t do anything to him.”
I noticed he didn’t deny shooting the horse, or framing the boy.
“We both know he didn’t run,” I said. “He’s lying dead somewhere, and either Wilson Kroll killed him, or had you do it. The boy knew Kroll’s prize horse was infertile, and Squires’ confession proves it. Kroll had to shut the kid up.”
Teddy’s eyes went back and forth from me to Alvin. I wondered if he were weighing the flight or fight response again. Alvin must have too, because he moved over to the doorway, blocking it.
“You’ve got to be dumber than I think you are,” I said, “if you don’t know that Kroll will lay the horse shooting, framing Jamal, and maybe even Jamal's disappearance on you the second they corner him. You’re a sitting duck. Why don’t you come clean now, and get ahead of it before it’s too late?”
“This is bullshit!” Teddy shouted, spittle flying from his lips. “I haven’t killed anybody.”
“You tried to kill me, Teddy,” I said.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he said. “Are you crazy?”
“It was you at the track that night. Hiding behind that ‘Anonymous’ mask. I recognized the duster and the Aussie slouch hat. You’re quite the horseman, but you need to work on your nighttime polo. You didn’t hit me hard enough.”
“Anonymous mask?” He said.
“Yeah. The one you were wearing when we saw you peeping into to a bedroom window at Kroll’s place, watching his Cleveland guests fuck the whores you brought to their party.”
Teddy stared at me, his eyes crazed like a wild animal caught in a trap.
“Leave me alone. Just leave me alone,” Teddy said and made for the door.
Alvin stepped in his way. “Is it time now to beat the truth out of him?” Alvin asked.
“Let him go,” I said. Teddy Crane’s world was about to come crashing down on him harder than any beating Alvin could give him. It would become a game of who could rat out the other one first, and my money was on Wilson Kroll.
We watched him go. He was heading in the direction of the parking lot.
"I guess Teddy’s race day is over, I said.
“So what's next, Kemosabe?” Alvin asked.
“We watch what happens,” I said. “And listen. I think there’s about to be a falling out among thieves, and maybe the answers we’re looking for will come tumbling out. I don't think our Teddy boy is going to confess like Sam Squires, so it may be the only way we'll ever find out what happened to Jamal.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
After the races were over, our foursome, led by Natasha, went to a party in Tryon at the Melrose Inn. It was a historic place, and already crowded when we got there. There was a cash bar and live music with a scraggly looking bunch occupying a bandstand. I quickly learned they could go from country to rock and roll without missing a beat; they played a lot better than they looked.
Natasha soon got ahead of us on the drinks and was in a weird mood. One minute she was the life of the party, the next, in the depths of the doldrums. The sun and the drinks from the day were getting to us all, I guess, except for Alvin, who didn’t drink. He stuck to club soda and was automatically the designated driver for the night.
I danced with Kelly most of the time but gave Natasha the occasional spin. So did several of her friends in the crowd. Natasha was rarely without a dance partner, I noticed. Or a drink. Alvin alternately danced with both women as the night went on. I noticed he had smooth moves, even though he pretended not to enjoy the music coming from what he called “a hillbilly band.”
They played an old familiar slow number, and Kelly and I danced to it, exchanging a long kiss and probably making a spectacle of ourselves. An elderly couple next to us on the dance floor, stared at us with disapproval. I recognized them as people Natasha had introduced me to at the USEC party on Wednesday, but I couldn’t remember their names.
The woman continued to stare at me. “We thought you were Natasha Ladd’s friend, young man,” she said, haughtily. “I guess we were mistaken.”
“Oh, she won’t mind,” I said, “this is my sister.”
Their looks went from disapproval to disgust.
“Well, I never.” I heard the woman say, as we spun away from them.
“John David, you’re awful,” Kelly said, laughing.
Much later, I came out of the men’s room to find Natasha waiting for me. She locked her arms around my neck and gave me a big sloppy kiss. Before I could disengage, I looked up and saw Kelly standing there watching us.
Natasha saw her, and let me go. “Oops,” she said and giggled.
“She’s drunk, Kelly,” I said. “This is not my doing.”
Kelly did an about-face and walked away.
She was sitting at the table waiting for me. She didn’t look happy.
“You're angry,” I said. “I understand, but it wasn’t my fault.”
“I'm a number of things,” she said, “and that's just one of them. All I know is that I’m not having fun anymore.”
“Natasha is shitfaced,” I said. “Before she molested me, she kissed a couple members of the band. One of them female.”
At that moment, Natasha came up, flopped down in a seat, and put her head in her hands, oblivious to us.
Alvin sat without emotion, watching the unfolding drama.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said. “Except for Alvin, we’ve all had enough to drink today. We’ll let him drive us back to Natasha’s.”
“I don't think I can spend the night under the same roof with her,” Kelly said. “I might strangle her in her sleep.”
She laughed, and so did I. “I won’t let you murder anyone,” I said. “I’ll keep you occupied. All night, if I have to.”
“Tempting, but I would know she’s in the next room. Besides, you rarely hear me say this, but I’m just not in the mood. So, I’m going to say no. I’m tired and need a good night’s sleep. It was for times just like this that God invented motel rooms. I’ll get one where Alvin is staying. He can drive us to Natasha’s, we’ll get our cars, and I’ll follow him to the motel.”
“You shouldn’t be driving anywhere,” I said.
“You may not have noticed, but I stopped drinking back at the race track. I’ve had club soda’s with Alvin since we’ve been here and I’m capable of driving all the way home. But it’s late, and I’m not going to.”
Natasha raised her head three inches off her arms and moaned, “I’m going to be sick.”
Alvin held her head while she puked on a curb in the parking lot, and then drove us all back to Natasha’s place. Natasha didn’t say a word the whole way, either asleep or to put it less politely, passed out. I tried all the way to get Kelly to forget about the motel but failed. I’d learned long ago that once she made up her mind, it was hard to change. But at least she was talking to me, her anger targeted at Natasha. Their friendship had taken a serious hit.
When we arrived, Natasha awoke suddenly and was the first one out of the car. She stumbled drunkenly into the house like she was about to be sick again. Alvin, Kelly and I got out and stood looking at each other, no one making an attempt to follow her in. Kelly kissed me on the cheek and said, “Good luck. I’ll see you in the morning.” Then she went with Alvin to their cars. Natasha had evidently become my problem by default.
In the house, I found Natasha draped over her toilet, passed out again. I picked her up and put her to her bed, still in her clothes. Then
I went out to look at what I’d seen as I’d entered her bungalow.
The living room was a mess. Desk drawers in the little cove Natasha called her study were standing open, papers from them and books from bookshelves strewn on the floor. I also noticed my laptop was missing from the desktop where I’d been using it to begin my story.
Natasha had left her front door unlocked, as usual, so you couldn’t accurately call it a break-in, but someone had robbed her—or us. I went back into her bedroom and looked at her dresser. Those drawers were open too. I didn’t expect to find anything of value left in them, but I was wrong. There was a jewelry box in one of them crammed to the lid with watches, rings, earrings, and bracelets, each one probably more valuable than ten laptops. Either it was one dumb thief, or he came just for my computer and notes. I suddenly thought of Jamal’s journal. Maybe that’s what the thief was looking to find. Teddy knew about it because I told him at the USEC party. Was this his work?
I took Natasha’s shoes off, pulled the covers over her, and turned out the lights. She was dead to the world. I went to lock her front door, reminded of that old saw about closing the barn door after the horse is gone—when I heard a car pull up out front. I looked through the glass side panels of the door to see Eddie Smoke and a couple of his thugs get out of a black BMW. One of them was the guy Alvin punched out. As they walked under the porch light, I could see gauze stuffed up his nostrils. Alvin must have broken his nose.
Were they here for payback? I started to lock the door before they could get to it but decided if they wanted me bad enough, they’d just break it down. My Glock nine was in the Jeep’s glove compartment, where I usually kept it, so I was unarmed. My best bet was to try to talk my way out of whatever they had in store for me. I didn’t think I’d done anything to them severe enough to die for, but with guys like this, you never knew.
I opened the door for them. Eddie Smoke and I looked at each other. I wondered if they were the ones who stole my laptop and were back for the journal. A favor to Teddy, perhaps.