Baldorf pulled the disk from his pocket and handed it to the officer.
“You videoed this?”
Baldorf nodded. “I know, I’ll need to be a witness.” He handed a card to the officer. “Now, can I get him out of here? I think he’s about to get sick.”
The officer eyed Skip, then said, “Thanks for setting this up.”
It was all Skip could do to not take a swing at the cop. He ground his teeth. “I had to. It was the only way.”
The officer nodded. “We can catch up later.” He handed Skip a card. “Either Sergeant Grimes or I will be in touch to do the interview. Eventually, the DA will want to talk to you.”
Skip heard the words, but he wasn’t paying attention. His mind reeled with what to do next. How to get Roxy out of jail. The problem was as old as the law itself. It was one he’d debated in school and fought against his entire life. How did you make the guilty look innocent?
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Roxy
It was late afternoon when an officer came to my cell and told me that I could leave. At first, I thought someone in the system had decided to play a cruel joke on me. I was taken to a holding room, where Skip’s attorney friend, Wally, waited.
As the officer guided me to a chair, Wally approached. “Are you okay?” he said.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been retained as your attorney.” He nodded at the officer, who left the room.
“I—I can’t afford you. Get me a public defender.”
“The fee has been taken care of. Right now, the charge is only assault. The police also think that they can put together a case for embezzlement.”
I groaned. It was my worst nightmare coming true. “What the hell do you want? Why are you here? Just leave me—”
“These are potentially serious charges, Roxy. You’ll need the best defense you can get, so listen up. The police are starting an investigation into your business. They’re still putting together evidence, but they expect to have enough for a warrant tomorrow. Your bail’s been posted for the assault charge, but the police will be keeping your cell phone and what you had on you as evidence—at least for now. Unfortunately, the embezzlement charges will be much harder to defend.”
“Don’t worry, Skip will give them everything they need.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Screw it. Do whatever you’re going to do. Just leave me alone! I understand exactly what’s happened.”
“You’re also prohibited from going within 100 yards of your business until the police have searched the premises.”
I glanced up, “Anything else? Can it get any worse?”
“Obviously, you can’t leave town, either.”
I glared at him. “That’s so cliché.”
“We’ll work it out.” Wally looked at me. “You ready to go?” He took my hand and squeezed it. Still bewildered, I nodded. What the hell, it was better than the cell.
He stood and started for the door. He knocked.
I asked, “Did my Dad hire you?”
“Not here,” he said. “Later.”
Mom and Dad must have gotten his name from Skip, who probably felt guilty for distancing himself. The cops would probably give him a reward for what he’d done. Once I’d been released, we walked out of the jail and to the parking lot, where he opened the door to a black Lexus. I sank down into the seat.
He leaned over me and said, “Seat belt. No need to tempt fate.”
I shook my head. Whatever. I took the seat belt from his grasp and secured it. He closed the door. That was the last thing I remember until we got to my condo.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Skip
Skip parked Wally’s motorcycle three blocks from Roxy’s office building in a side alley. What he was about to do made no sense—even to him. But if he didn’t do it, Roxy would spend years in prison, and that was a thought he couldn’t bear.
He wore a black sweatshirt, faded jeans, and a baseball cap with the bill pulled down in front. Over his shoulder, he’d slung a shoulder bag. He gripped the strap tightly and kept his head down while he walked along the streets and avoided all eye contact. In the bag, he also had a ski mask that he could use during what would be an all-too-obvious escape.
It was 4:20 p.m. and passersby were busy heading home or thinking about the weekend. Not so for Skip. He had work to do. He had two very different roles to play, but both were necessary to free Roxy. He walked through the front door of the office building and went up the stairs. He pulled on a pair of latex gloves as he climbed and was thankful that he encountered no one. In the hallway outside Roxy’s office, he checked both directions. There were still a couple of businesses open. He hoped they would be here until he was done. That had to be less than twenty minutes.
The door to Tanner Investments was locked, as Skip had expected. He extracted his picks from his pocket and inserted two long, thin strips of metal into the lock. He heard voices, then footsteps coming up the stairs. He spotted an emergency exit sign at the end of the hallway and walked quickly to the door. He opened it, praying that it wasn’t alarmed. When no bells rang, he let out a sigh of relief and hid in the emergency stairwell, hoping against the odds that the voices weren’t those of cops coming to search Roxy’s office.
The voices, those of two men, became clearer. The first said, “I’m telling you, the Padres are going to kick butt this season.”
“You are so wrong. They’ve lost all their drive. This is going to be their worst season ever.”
“Okay, wise guy, I’ve got twenty that says . . .”
The voices went silent as a door shut. Skip checked the hallway again. No traffic. He went back to Roxy’s office and began working the lock again. He’d lost another minute and a half thanks to those two. He felt the tumblers click into place and twisted the knob. He slipped into Tanner Investments and locked the door behind him.
A quick look around told Skip that she’d done what he feared she might. She’d tried to clean up after herself. He checked his watch, 4:28. He had twelve minutes left. Skip pulled Stella’s hard drive from his bag along with a screwdriver and the instructions that Baldorf had given him. Baldorf had explained how the cops wouldn’t spend their budget on a forensic expert if the drive appeared to be in normal condition. All Skip had to do was restore the drive to an unaltered appearance and Roxy’s tampering would go unnoticed.
Baldorf had worked his magic on the drive and added back Stella’s address book, which he’d moved over from her phone. They’d even restored marketing-material files from Roxy’s laptop. If Baldorf was correct, the computer wouldn’t be analyzed by a forensic expert and they’d be fine. Baldorf had even taken apart an old machine of his and shown Skip how to remove and replace the hard drive—an operation that he completed in three minutes—it took Skip twice that long.
Six minutes to go. Skip put the computer back where it belonged, remembering what Baldorf had told him. Most people dust around their computers, make sure you get it positioned precisely.
Four minutes. He pulled the charger for Stella’s phone and stuffed it into his shoulder bag. He pulled a can of spray paint from the bag and began spraying the walls of Roxy’s office.
“Bitch.”
“You’ll pay.”
“Rot in hell.”
He stood back and admired his handiwork. Perfect revenge, he thought.
He checked his watch. Shit, he was out of time and he still had more to do.
He stuffed the baseball cap into the bag and pulled out the ski mask, which he put on, but left rolled up for the moment. Skip slung the bag over his shoulder and did a final check. He’d left nothing behind. He went to Roxy’s file cabinet and grabbed the back. He pulled as hard as he could until it tumbled forward and crashed on the floor. He flipped Roxy’s chair over, then the two opposite her desk. He pulled an extendable wand from the bag and smashed the desk lamp and the picture of her parents on the credenza. He swept everything
from the credenza onto the floor and pulled down the mask.
He ran to the front door and stepped into the hallway. He locked the door, closed it behind him, then kicked with all his might. The door lock broke free and the door flew inward. He ran down the stairs and out the front door as shouts filled the hallway behind him.
“Call the police!”
Another voice, “Dan, call the cops!”
He hesitated at the base of the stairs. A third voice, this time a woman’s, cut through the chaos. “There he goes!”
He hopped onto a bicycle that leaned against the building next to the front door and sped away. Behind him, he heard the third voice. It was the woman shouting. He looked over his shoulder as he rounded a corner and saw three people pointing in his direction. One had a cell phone to his ear. With any luck, they were calling the cops. With any luck, in all the chaos they’d never even realize that the damage had been done before the door had been kicked in.
Skip peddled as fast as he could to where he’d parked the motorcycle. When he came to a stop, he pulled the mask off and stuffed it into the bag, then tossed in his black sweatshirt. He walked the bicycle across a short span of sidewalk to a bench.
The young man on the bench said, “Everything go okay?”
“Just about perfect.”
In the distance, Skip heard sirens approaching.
“Think she’ll come through for you?”
Skip hadn’t allowed himself to have any doubts to this point, but now, fear that Roxy might not do the right thing scared him to death. With what he’d just done, he might have thrown away his life as well as hers.
“It’s all up to her. I don’t know what she’ll do.”
“You’ve got one thing going for you,” said the young man.
“What’s that?”
“People make lousy witnesses.”
The sirens wailed a couple of blocks away. They stopped in the vicinity of Roxy’ office.
The young man smiled at Skip. “Dude, you are my hero. You better move. You got TV cameras waiting.”
Skip smiled. “Thanks, Baldorf. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
“You already did, man, you gave me a new idea for Baldorf’s Revenge.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Roxy
All I wanted to do was go back to sleep, but Wally insisted on accompanying me to my condo. It was almost five when we walked through the door and I noticed the message light blinking.
He pointed at the machine. “You’d better check messages.”
“Whatever.” In this case, it was true. I’d do whatever I needed to get rid of this guy. He was my attorney—one I didn’t even want—not my dad. That’s why I was reluctant to check messages—I wasn’t sure I could ever face my mom or dad again.
I listened to the first message, “Roxy, this is Mom. Your dad and I want to talk to you. Please, we don’t care what you’ve done. Call us. Please.”
I grimaced. “She sounds worried.”
Wally nodded. The second message started.
“Miss Tanner? Officer Wilcox with the Carlsbad Police Department. There’s been a break-in at your office and we need you to come down here right away.”
The message had been left just ten minutes ago. I stared at Wally, “A break-in? Now what?”
His phone rang. “Wally Price.”
He tapped his foot while he listened for a few seconds. “I agree. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” He looked at me. “Wilcox called me. He must have heard that you might still be with me. Let’s go.”
“To the office? I thought I was supposed to stay away from there?”
“They’ll make an exception in this case.”
Fifteen minutes later, Wally parked the black Lexus on the street in front of my office building. The street traffic was heavy, but parking easily available. In another hour, that would change as the restaurant crowd started to spill over to a larger area. For now, there were open spaces.
Two police cars were parked in front of the building. People walking by gawked in typical peeper-mode. As Wally took my arm and guided me toward the steps, I said, “I never want to see another cop in my life.”
Under his breath he muttered, “It’s just beginning.”
We climbed the stairs in silence. At the top of the stairwell, I stopped and stared. Outside my door, which was now missing, two officers were talking to the other tenants. One of the women with whom I occasionally had coffee saw me and rushed in my direction.
“Roxy! This is awful. I’m so sorry.”
One of the officers intervened. “Ma’am. Please.”
She glared at him, but his resolve didn’t wilt. “Fine,” she said and walked back to her previous location.
“Miss Tanner?”
“What happened? Uh, yes, I’m Roxy Tanner.”
“A short while ago a man dressed in black and wearing a ski mask broke into your place. We suspect it may have something to do with the arrest of Mr. Panaman earlier today.”
I felt Wally’s hand on my arm, reassuring me. I shook it away. “I’m okay.” But my bravado was gone, I was dead tired and now someone had broken into my office? “Why would you say it’s got anything to do with Sonny Panaman?”
The officer stepped to one side and gestured toward the open door. “You should take a look.”
I walked through the door, my legs stiff as tree limbs. There was nothing wrong with Stella’s area. It looked perfectly normal. “There’s nothing wrong,” I said.
“Your office, please.”
I glanced through the door to my office and saw red lettering on the wall. I rushed forward and nearly knocked over a man coming out the opposite direction.
He apologized. “Sorry, Miss. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
I barely heard him through the roar in my head. The walls had been spray-painted, the filing cabinet turned over, and chairs upended. My credenza contents lay in a pile on the floor. I ran to it and found the photo of Mom and Dad.
As I reached for it, a woman stopped me. “Sorry, not yet. We haven’t dusted those for prints.”
I spotted Wally speaking with a uniformed officer across the room. Behind them, I saw the spray painted message, “Bitch.”
The room began to blur. Tears ran hot down my cheeks. A voice intruded on my space. “Miss Tanner? I’m Sergeant Grimes. Do you have any idea who might want to do this?”
This had been my second home. Even though I’d eventually planned to abandon it, I’d been proud of this office and everything I’d picked out for it. Just because everything was rented, didn’t mean I hadn’t grown attached. The thought of someone violating it like this appalled me. I shook my head and wiped at my cheek.
“The messages on the walls, they make it look like revenge,” he said.
I put a hand to my throat and croaked, “I can’t read—too blurry.”
He handed me a tissue, which I pressed against my cheek. “Of course,” he said.
“Who would do this?”
Grimes looked at Wally. “You didn’t tell her?”
“I told her there had been a break-in. Give her a break, Grimes, she’s upset. You know how hard it is to focus under circumstances like this.”
“What’s that mean?” I snapped.
Grimes ignored me as he spoke to Wally. “I’m satisfied.”
“It means we’re done here.” Wally took my arm and guided me out the door.
CHAPTER SIXTY
Skip
Skip took Grand Avenue to South Coast Highway and then turned left. He drove until he was in Oceanside and reached Cassidy St. He took a left and headed for the beach. When he got to Pacific, he took a right. When he reached Oceanside Blvd., he found what he was looking for, a trash can. He dropped the can of spray paint and the gloves into the trash and headed home.
An hour later, he’d been home, showered, and prepared himself mentally for the next task. The first news crew showed up right on time. After a brief round of intr
oductions, the interview began.
The on-scene reporter was Emily Lim, a short, Eurasian woman with big, brown eyes and a sharp tongue. Her speech was short and clipped and put Skip on edge, but he needed her to broadcast this story. He knew that they were working each other equally—she wanted a story, he wanted publicity.
Skip asked, “When will this air?”
“You’re timing was perfect, station manager wants to broadcast ASAP. Eddie will upload the interview as soon as we’re done. Okay, let’s go.” Eddie turned on a spotlight and Emily smiled. “This is Emily Lim. I’m here with Skip Cosgrove, a local criminologist/consultant who has news about the capture of a kidnapper earlier this afternoon in Carlsbad. Tell me what happened, Skip.”
Skip put on his most professional tone. Believability and sympathy were the reactions he needed. “Earlier this week, Richard Tanner was kidnapped and held for five million dollars ransom.”
“Five million dollars? Is Mr. Tanner rich?”
“No. Mr. Tanner is retired from the title business and he’s just a normal guy who doesn’t have a lot of money. The kidnappers went after Mr. Tanner because his daughter, Roxy Tanner, recently started up a venture capital firm.”
“So why didn’t we get more on this story prior to today?”
“We didn’t want the kidnappers’ demands broadcast while Mr. Tanner was held hostage by them. Today, the man we believe masterminded the kidnapping was arrested.”
“So there’s a happy ending to the story?”
“Almost. The reason I contacted you is that now the Carlsbad Police are alleging that Miss Tanner embezzled the ransom money from her company. I want to set the record straight. I loaned Miss Tanner that money. She did not embezzle it.”
“That’s quite a loan! Why would you loan a stranger that much money? And where did you get that much?”
“My reasons as to why I loaned the money are private. The how is from my trust fund. If we hadn’t gotten the money back, I’d be broke. The thing is, I had faith we’d prevail.”
“You were involved in the high-profile child-runaway case of Paul Nordoff earlier this week, weren’t you?”
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