by Laina Turner
“We can talk about the upcoming flower show.” My mother grinned, knowing full well that was the last thing I would want to talk about.
“Ha, ha. Actually I wanted to ask you something about Dad.” My mother looked puzzled. “Has he been acting strange?”
“No stranger than usual,” my mother joked. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. He stayed out late the other night and that’s not like him.”
“Presley he’s a grown man and we each have our own lives. It is what has kept us together all these years. We have fun apart and together.”
If Ruth did know something about my dad, my mother wasn’t catching on yet. Maybe I should just confront my dad about seeing him that night. It could be something very simple to explain. Iwas sure of it. “I guess you know best.”
“Could you repeat that please? Better yet, let me tape record it,” my mother joked.
“Funny.” These were the times I loved hanging out with my mother. We really did have a lot to talk about, when my mother wasn’t nagging. “I’m going to grab some more tea, and then try to write something before Trevor has a fit. Want some more?”
“Sure, honey.”
My mother went out to work in her garden to leave me to my thoughts and to try and write. All I had managed was a few notes and a loose timeline. This was harder than I thought. Maybe I should just take a nap. That might spark some ideas.
Chapter 13“Hello?”
“Presley! I need to talk to you right away!” It was Helen Daniels, hysterical. I could hardly understand her.
“What is it, Helen? What’s wrong?” I had fallen asleep, but the sound of fear in Helen’s voice quickly woke me up.
“Just meet me at Gardner’s old warehouse in thirty minutes. If you’re not there, I will not be able to wait. It’s not safe. You have to hurry!”
“Helen! Calm down, safe from whom? Why all the drama? Helen…Helen?” She’d hung up. I glanced at my watch. Crap! I’d never make it there in thirty minutes. All I could hope for was Dirt and his deputies were out investigating the Senator’s murder rather than trying to keep the streets safe from speeders.
I ran out of the house, running past my mother still working in her garden.
“Presley, where are you going?
“I’ll be back in a bit.”
“For dinner?”
“I don’t know.” I said exasperatedly. I didn’t need the third degree.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll explain later. Just eat without me if I’m not back.”
“Pres!”
“Bye, Mother.”
I pushed seventy in a forty-five mile an hour zone, my Kia humming, just hoping to get there on time. I was surprised my car could go that fast. In Chicago, the traffic was so bad you didn’t really have a chance to speed this much. My phone rang again, but I didn’t look at it. I needed to concentrate on my driving. Gardner’s warehouse, located about twenty miles outside of town, used to be a production plant for some automotive part. The plant closed years before, when I still lived here. It was so long ago that I couldn’t remember what the company actually produced.
I pulled in the parking lot, gravel flying, hoping Helen was still here. The clock on my dash said it had been thirty-three minutes since she called me. I pocketed my keys, not wanting to weigh myself down with my purse, and jogged around to the front entrance. I had on flip-flops, not the best jogging shoes, but I was so startled when Helen called I just ran out of the house without paying attention to what I had on. This was a big place, and I huffed trying to catch my breath. I really must get in shape, I wheezed to myself.
Helen hadn’t specified exactly where to meet her, so I assumed she might be at the front entrance. She wasn’t waiting outside for me, so I tried the front door or what I presumed was the front door. It was unlocked, which I thought strange for an abandoned building, but I assumed Helen had unlocked it. Though had it been locked, I could have crawled through one of the many broken windows. I carefully stepped inside the building and the darkness engulfed me. The little bit of light in the building was let in by the broken windows, and it took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust. It smelled dank and musty, and I could hear the scurrying of what were probably little furry rodents. I shuddered involuntarily and didn’t want to think about what type of creepy crawlies were in this building, especially with me in flip-flops. I wasn’t thrilled about stepping any further into the building.
“Helen,” I called softly. No answer. Where the hell is she? I tiptoed a little further into the building in an effort to be quiet, though I still couldn’t see very well, so tiptoeing wouldn’t do me any good if there was anything in my way. All of a sudden, I felt a hand on my arm; I jumped about ten feet and started to scream.
“Shh, Presley. It’s just me,” Helen said. “Do you think you could be a little quieter?”
“Then don’t ask me to come to an abandoned building and grab me when I’m not expecting it. I can’t see! You could have been anyone or anything,” I retorted. “I am not a big fan of the creepy things I am sure are in this building.” I took one look at Helen and grew concerned. She was usually one of those women who always looked impeccable, but her dark brown hair, usually in a knot at the nape of her neck, was disheveled and loose. I could tell Helen had been crying, from her smudged make-up. She definitely wasn’t her normal well put together self. I could see that, even in this poor light. I still felt a stab of jealousy because, even a little worse for wear, Helen looked better than most women. Not fair at all.
“So what is going on, Helen? Why all the cloak-and-dagger stuff? Why did we have to meet here, of all places?” I asked, looking around and waving my arms. “Should we even be here? The place looks about ready to fall down. I’m sure the owners wouldn’t be too happy if we fell through the floor or something. This building is quite a liability.”
“It’s the only place I could go where I could easily see if I was being followed. Besides, we own the building. Or rather, I do now,” Helen, replied giving a little laugh—the hysterical kind, rather than the ha-ha kind.
“Why would anyone be following you?” I took a step forward, concerned Helen might really be in danger. It seemed so surreal.
Helen tried to keep herself from crying again. “They called my house, Presley. They called my house and demanded money. They said if I didn’t pay up, they would make sure I met the same fate as Tom. I knew they would want their money, but I didn’t think it would be like this. I thought I would have some more time. I can’t get my hands on that kind of money right now. It would look too suspicious; besides, I don’t even know yet where I am going to get it!” Helen then burst into tears.
I waited for a few uncomfortable moments for the tears to subside. To help Helen, I needed her to calm down and tell me everything she knew. Plus, I had a few questions of my own.
“Do you know who it was that called you, Helen? Who did the Senator owe money to?”
“I don’t know specifically who the caller was, nor who Tom owed money to. I didn’t recognize any voices and they didn’t tell me their names. Tom tried to hide as much as he could from me about this aspect of his life, I told you that already, and when I forced the issue, he told me as little as possible. Usually just enough to get me to shut up. To be honest, it got to where I didn’t even ask much because I didn’t really care.”
“Who else knows about the Senator’s gambling problem? Maybe that’s who called you. Could it be blackmail?” I thought blackmail seemed as good a reason as any.
“The only people who know about this, besides the people he owed the money to, are me and Tobey. As the Senator’s assistant, Tobey was privy to a lot more information than I thought he should have been,” Helen explained. “Tom said he would find out anyway, and that we could trust him. I don’t think Tobey is the type to try to blackmail anyone. Other than that, there is no way Tom would have told anyone else. He might have been a gambler, but he wasn’t stupid. At le
ast not that stupid.”
“What about Garrison Palazzo.”
Helen looked up sharply. “What about him?”
“I saw the clippings of you at the Business Women’s luncheon in Vegas. Are you friends? Maybe he knows who Tom owed.”
“Hardly. Friends or otherwise, he wouldn’t be any help.” Helen cringed internally. She should have known that it wouldn’t be possible to keep all the secrets buried.
“Couldn’t hurt to ask, could it?”
“Trust me. It wouldn’t be of any help.”
“But maybe it would be. You don’t know until you ask. You obviously know him, Helen. He might have some information.”
Helen wanted to scream. Things were complicated enough without Presley bringing up even more dirt.
“Okay, could Tom have been involved with someone in whom he might have confided?” I felt a little uncomfortable with this question, but it was common knowledge that he was a bit of a womanizer. So it would make sense he might be seeing someone besides Helen. If he had that type of relationship with someone, it wouldn’t be a stretch for him to feel comfortable enough with that person to tell them some of what was going on.
“No, he wasn’t currently seeing anyone, as you put it. He broke off his last tryst a few months ago after I found out, because I threatened to take my money and leave. I guess he could have still been hiding it, but I don’t think he would take that risk. That tramp who showed up pretending to be his girlfriend was lying.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“Because, he might have liked those sweet young things he kept screwing around with, but he liked my money even more, and I told him that I wouldn’t stand for his running around anymore. It was an embarrassment.”
I agreed with her. Well, at least I agreed that Tobey was likely trustworthy and that Tom wouldn’t want to chance being cut off from the money, especially at a time when he so desperately needed it. From what I had heard about Tobey, he was a nice guy and ambitious enough to keep his mouth shut about almost anything. But I wasn’t so sure about the girlfriend thing. It would take guts for someone to show up and lie.
“What exactly did the caller say, Helen? Did you recognize any speech patterns or anything?” Helen looked at me strangely, as if maybe she thought I watched too many crime shows. She would be right, I happened to be a huge fan of Law & Order, although after Jerry Orbach left the show, it wasn’t what it used to be. But I had to start somewhere. I wasn’t a trained private investigator, so I had to use what I had. Presley Thurman, P.I. did have a nice ring to it though. On second thought, it sounded a bit too much like Magnum P.I., which maybe would make my mother happy. She always loved Tom Selleck.
Helen pulled out a compact to survey the damage from crying and put on powder and fresh lipstick, which pretty much made her look perfect again. “All they said was that they consider Tom’s debt my debt, that I had until Friday at 4 p.m. to get them the money, and that they would be back in touch with a time and place to meet to transfer the money.”
“How much money are you talking, Helen?”
“Four million dollars.”
“Four million…you’ve got to be freaking kidding me!” How could someone get themselves that far in the hole? Did they really think he would have ever been able to pay? More importantly, who could afford to let someone float that much? I couldn’t fathom how much four million dollars was. Obviously it was a drop in the bucket to Tom. Even Helen didn’t seem too upset by the amount of money; in fact, the other day she said the amount was over a million. Four million was significantly over a million, and she was so nonchalant about it. She seemed more upset these people were not giving her enough time to pull the money together, than she was about coming up with the money itself.
“Helen, you have to tell the police. I can call Dirt and have him meet us out here. This is too much for you to handle alone.” I pulled out my cell and started to dial.
“No!” Helen shouted. “They said no police or they would kill me too, and I believe them. They told me things about my routine so I would know they’ve been watching me. I don’t want to handle it alone, that’s why I came to you. I’m afraid to even go around town because I just know they are out there watching. Oh, Presley, I don’t know what to do.” She started crying again.
I have no idea what to do either, I thought. What the hell did she think I could do? I was just an HR person turned wannabe writer, now turned private investigator, if you interpreted the term loosely. My real talents were in shopping and finding great deals.
“Helen, you can’t just pay them. I mean, how do you know they will go away after that? They could keep coming back for more and more.”
“Why would they do that? I’m sure if I pay them this will go away. They just want their money. Isn’t that the honor among thieves or something? Why would they keep after me?”
Or something, was right. Helen seemed to think this was no big deal. She was nuts if she thought it would be that simple. Even if she paid them, surely they would know how much it was worth to her to keep things quiet, and nothing would prevent them from asking her for more and more money. The threat of exposure would always be there. I had to convince her to at least let Dirt know. He would know how to help, and I was sure he would keep it from the FBI since he wasn’t thrilled with us being in the middle of this to begin with. Crap. I realized I hadn’t made it to the station to talk to the FBI yet. “But what if they don’t, Helen? They are the bad guys. Do you really think people who threaten you with death if you don’t pay them have any scruples?” I pleaded with her. “You have to go to the police. Dirt can help you and we can trust him. I promise. Or at least let’s tell Cooper. He’s not the police and he can help. He knew Tom, and even though he didn’t know about this, he can help us.”
“No one can help me, and telling Cooper would be bringing on more trouble than I need,” Helen said furiously.
“Why?”
“Cooper has ties to those guys too, Presley. How do you think he came to work for us in the first place?”
“What are you talking about?” What the hell was Helen talking about?
“And you’d better not tell anyone either.” Helen ignored me and kept right on talking. “My life is at stake here, so don’t screw this up for me. I don’t know what I was thinking telling you anyway.”
Me either, I thought. Helen seemed more like her normal cold, calculated self. Yay for me, I thought sarcastically. What the hell did she mean about that comment about Cooper? I had to get to the bottom of that. All this was making my head hurt.
“Helen, the murderer had to know the Senator’s routine, or how else would they have known to catch him alone at home? At the very least, they were spying on you both at the house. Have you noticed anything or anyone around that is out of the ordinary? And please tell me what you mean about Cooper.”
What Helen said got me thinking about many things. The murderer had to have insider information. If Helen could be believed, and I didn’t see why she would lie, Tom’s gambling problem was something only she and Tobey were aware of. It didn’t fit. There had to be others who knew, even if Helen didn’t think they knew. There didn’t seem to be anything else that would put the Senator in a position where people would want to murder him. I didn’t see what Tobey could possibly have to gain and neither did Helen. There had to be someone on the staff who knew more than Helen thought. Wasn’t there always an inside connection, maybe whomever it was Helen had been making out with in the car? Besides, the Senator was killed late at night, so someone had to have access to the house and be pretty confident no one would be around that time of night when the Senator was working late.
“No. I told you that no one knew. I am sure of that. It would have leaked to the press if anyone other than Tobey knew. That’s the way it works. No one would have kept this information to themselves without a price, and no one came to us for money other than what he owed to the casinos. I don’t think the rest of the staff is that loyal
. The media vultures would pay a fortune for that kind of information.”
“You came to me, Helen.”
“Please,” Helen said dryly. “Your mother would have your hind-end if you went to the bigger rags over this.”
True, I thought wryly. “What about Bobby Johnson?” I was getting more curious about the Cooper situation, especially since Helen kept dodging the question. Why would she keep ignoring me if there wasn’t something bad there?
She shrugged. “What could that possibly have to do with anything?” She took out a cigarette to light up. That threw me off track for a minute; this wasn’t the public side one usually saw of Helen. She noticed me staring at her.
“Filthy habit, I know, but it’s times like these that I can’t stop.” She inhaled noisily. “It makes me feel so much better.”
“Anyway, according to the rumor mill, Bobby also has a gambling problem.” That was a confirmed rumor, but I wasn’t going to tell Helen that. I wanted to see what she might tell me, and the best way to get information was to play as if you didn’t have a lot. People loved to be the one to tell you things.
“Presley, that has nothing to do with anything,” Helen interrupted. “Bobby and whatever issues he might have are not connected in any way to Tom. Don’t be stupid.”
“Then what do you want from me?” I was exasperated that all she could do was speculate.
“I need you to get your little friends, Dirt and Cooper, to stay away from this, to leave me alone until I can get this matter taken care of. The last thing I need stressing me out in this whole mess is interference from those two.”
Wow, it took a cold-hearted person to say that the men trying to solve her husband’s murder were stressing her out rather than the fact he was dead.
“I am assuming you mean Dirt?”
“And Cooper. They are both determined to find out who killed Tom. I know who killed Tom, it was these bad guys, and prosecuting them won’t bring him back. I just want to make them go away so they don’t kill me too, and I can’t do that with those two sniffing around,” she said, examining her nails on one hand, holding a cigarette in the other. “Besides, the last thing they probably want to do is get more involved than they already are.”