Murder Breaks the Bank

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Murder Breaks the Bank Page 15

by Maddie Cochere


  “Yep, that’s my angel. My middle born. Her name’s Jo Wheeler, and she’s here tonight. Stand up, Jo, and say hello.” She encouraged the crowd, “Give it up for Jo Wheeler of Barnaski and Wheeler Investigations.”

  I was embarrassed and wanted to crawl under the table. I willed tears not to surface. Thankfully, something inside me knew the crowd wasn’t passing judgment on me. They were just having fun, and Mama was a hit with them.

  I slowly came to my feet. A spotlight caught my face, momentarily blinding me and causing me to flinch and blink rapidly. The crowd laughed and applauded.

  Mama spoke into the microphone again. “Seriously, folks, I’m not a comedienne, and even though this is usually open mic night here at The Broken Nine Iron, Bob Troy was kind enough to let me take over your evening for a few minutes, and I’d like to introduce you to someone very special. He has single handedly brought down mob bosses, cleaned up drug cartels, broken smuggling rings, and even found a few lost dogs and cats. Please welcome Arnold Barnaski.”

  Arnie? Was he going to add to my humiliation by telling more jokes at my expense?

  He stood from our table and made his way to the stage. The crowd applauded as if he were a celebrity winning an award. Mama handed the microphone to him.

  “You embellished my resume, but thank you, Estelle,” he said. “Estelle Frasier everyone. Wasn’t she great?” More loud applause. “She owns Estelle’s Emporium of Wonders over in Buxley. Open every week Wednesday through Sunday, and she serves the best damn cup of coffee around.” He put on his solemn face. “I just want to say I’ve had the great pleasure of mentoring Jo Wheeler for over two years now. When I first met her, she had just taken down a murdering politician. She got a shiv in the ass for her efforts, but she got the job done.”

  The crowd laughed.

  “That’s the best thing about Jo. Her methods might not always get her the intended results, but she always gets the job done. She’s worked hard, and I have the honor tonight of presenting Jo with her official private investigator’s license. Come on up here, Jo.”

  I couldn’t have been more surprised. I had no idea Mama and Arnie had cooked this night up just to present me with my license. All five of my references were in attendance, which explained why Addie was here tonight. My eyes went to her and found a warm smile on her face.

  Glenn stood with me and gave me a hug and a kiss before I left the table. The crowd rose to their feet and cheered as if I had won an Oscar for Best Performance in a Movie. The woman who had been laughing so hard at Mama was standing on her chair, whistling through her fingers like Keith had earlier. No one whapped her upside her head.

  Mama had stepped off stage but returned now with a picture frame. She handed it to Arnie. When I reached him, Arnie handed the frame to me with one hand while shaking my hand with the other. He was smiling from ear to ear.

  I stared at the work of art. My wall license had been matted and framed. It was overwhelming to see my name on the official piece of paper. My heart swelled with pride.

  Arnie handed a smaller, wallet-size photo license to me. For a few moments I was stunned. This wasn’t the picture I had provided with my application. The license held the horrible picture from the Buxley Beacon. My smile evaporated.

  Arnie saw my distress and quickly said, “It’s a joke. The picture is taped over your real one.”

  I looked over to Mama. She pointed both forefingers at me and mouthed, “Gotcha.”

  The woman was maddening, but I loved her. I walked over to give her a hug before returning to Arnie. He placed the microphone back on the stand and adjusted it for me.

  “This is all so unexpected,” I said. “I want to thank my agent, the people at the studio, and all the little people who helped me climb to the top.”

  The audience laughed. Not quite as hard as they laughed at Mama, but they laughed.

  “In all honesty, I never thought this day would come. It hasn’t been easy, and learning to be observant is harder than you might think. Four years ago, I was divorced, lonely, and in a dead-end job. My life changed when Arnold Barnaski came into it and agreed to mentor me. My life has been exciting ever since, and I’m married again to a wonderful man. He’s a police officer.”

  “Is he the one who arrested you on the toilet?” someone yelled out.

  I laughed. “No, but he picked me up at the Patterson Police Department and took me home that night. If I recall, I spent most of the time laughing in the back of his cruiser. It was either laugh or die of embarrassment.”

  I paused for a few moments.

  “I guess that’s all I want to say other than to thank Mama and Arnie for making tonight so special for me, and I want to thank all of you for not booing any of us.” I looked between Arnie and Mama again. “You’ve given me a night I’ll never forget. Thank you.”

  The crowd applauded again as we left the stage.

  Our tables now each held a bottle of champagne. Addie already had ours open and was pouring a small glass for Keith when Buck intervened. I had a feeling Keith would figure out a way to taste champagne before the night was over anyway.

  Glenn slipped his arm around my shoulders. I shifted my chair closer to his and snuggled into him, picking up my glass of champagne. I didn’t want this evening to end, but when it did, naughty nurse wouldn’t be making an appearance. There was a new naughty private investigator in town.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I’m retiring at the end of next year.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I knew when Arnie agreed to mentor me he wanted to retire, and I knew he wanted to retire long before this, but I never really thought it would happen. I thought Barnaski and Wheeler Investigations would go on indefinitely. His words saddened and worried me. Would he be closing the business? Would I have to start my own investigative practice elsewhere?

  I smiled. “I’m grateful you continued working long enough to help me get my license, and having time to plan what I’m going to do after you retire is helpful.”

  He looked puzzled. “What’s there to plan? You come in to work and carry on as usual. Just because I won’t be here doesn’t mean you can’t run the business.”

  “Are you saying you’re giving the practice to me?”

  “No. But I am saying I’ll have Matt Ryder draw up paperwork giving you a larger share of the practice than you have now. If you get that sister of yours up to speed, I think you’ll have an easy time of handling anything that comes your way.”

  I was overwhelmed and felt tears well up in my eyes. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you.”

  He shuffled a few papers around on his desk. I had the feeling he didn’t want me to go all sentimental and mushy on him.

  “You gonna let Hugh Oakes go down for Preston’s murder?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It appears Rorski has a solid case against the bank manager for planting the bomb that killed Oscar Preston. And it seems to me you stopped working the case, so I was wondering if you were going to let him take the fall.”

  I had forgotten to talk with Arnie about why he thought Hugh Oakes was innocent. I was so upset by Pepper being in the office last Monday, I had completely forgotten to bring up the subject. The rest of the week became a blur with training Pepper and working with her on the Buxley Bank and Trust job. Glenn and I spent our evenings visiting with Hank and Nancy. There hadn’t been time to think about Oscar Preston or follow up on the names in Oscar’s small notebook.

  “Pepper and I were so busy last week, we didn’t have a chance to work the case. I figured out why Hugh Oakes is probably innocent, but I wanted to ask you why you have such bad feelings toward Benny. He’s a nice man, and he’s super conscientious about his job at the bank.”

  Arnie appeared to weigh whether or not he wanted to tell me something. I sat quietly while he worked out his thoughts.

  “This is for your ears only,” he said. “I have a friend who’s a federal marshal. He told m
e there was a man working at Buxley Bank and Trust who was in the Witness Protection Program. He was given immunity for testifying against a family that ran a drug trade in New York. His job with the family was selling amphetamines to high school kids. After his testimony, they gave him a new name and planted him here. My friend didn’t say, but I think that man is Benny.”

  “Why would you think that?” I asked. “The bank wouldn’t hire a criminal. They couldn’t hire a criminal. He wouldn’t pass a background check.”

  “Ah, but he would have a new, squeaky clean background made up for him, and what better place to hide him than somewhere he wouldn’t be expected to be working.”

  “So you think he had something to do with Oscar Preston’s murder?”

  “Not at all. The man was a drug dealer not a killer, and he’s got a clean record since coming to Buxley. I just think you should talk to him again. He’s not a rube, and he probably knows more about what happened that day than he’s let on.”

  Pepper was on the phone with what sounded like another cheating spouse case. Those types of cases made money for us, but they always made me sad. She gave me a big smile and a thumbs up as I passed by to my office.

  I closed my door and sat behind my desk. Arnie had given me a lot to think about. The thought of running Barnaski and Wheeler Investigations by myself was daunting but exciting. Our paperwork wasn’t difficult, and our accountant never had trouble with the reports we submitted, so I knew bookkeeping wouldn’t be a problem. Pepper would step up our marketing. I could see the business thriving in the future.

  My thoughts turned to Benny. So what if he was in witness protection? He seemed so completely shocked by the bomb blast, I highly doubted he would have any information other than what he had already provided.

  I pulled Oscar’s notebook and the list I had made with corresponding telephone numbers and addresses from my bag. I started at the top and began calling the work numbers.

  I was able to reach two of the people on the list. Both were cordial but not especially helpful. I was able to get confirmation they had invested with Ellis Rich, but if I wanted any more information, I could contact their attorneys. It was as if they had already been coached what to say if someone called.

  My phone buzzed in my bag. It was a text from Glenn. Sarge bringing in Ellis for questioning. Want to watch?

  I couldn’t text back fast enough. Yes.

  I grabbed my bag and bolted for the door. “Be back in a bit,” I yelled over my shoulder to Pepper.

  “Hey,” she yelled back. “Where are you going?”

  I ignored her and rushed to Glenn’s car. Pepper could manage the office, but she didn’t need to know where I was or what I was doing unless I wanted her to know. Ok, maybe that was a bit harsh, but if Arnie didn’t need to know where I was every minute of my work day, Pepper didn’t need to know either.

  I drove as fast as I dared. While I was at the station, I’d demand to have my truck back. There wasn’t any reason for holding it this long. They surely had the bullet out of the molding by now.

  Glenn was waiting at the front door for me when I arrived. He put his fingers to his lips in a hush motion and pulled me down the hallway to a small room. The station had only one interrogation room with a one-way mirror. We were in the room behind the mirror.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “Where’s Ellis Rich?”

  “He’ll be here any minute. Sarge got a search warrant for Rich’s house and sent a few of the guys over. They were instructed to look for a nine-millimeter handgun. I don’t know what they found, but they’re on their way back now with Rich and his manservant.”

  “Ken. His name is Ken. He replaced Jerome Conner when Ellis fired him.”

  “This is your case, too, so I though you might want to listen in. Just don’t make any noise, and don’t leave this room until I give you the all clear.”

  I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you. You’re the best.”

  “I know. Enjoy the show,” he said with a twinkle in his eye before leaving the room.

  Hugh Oakes must have planted some doubt in Sergeant Rorski’s mind about his guilt if the sergeant was following up on the shooting. The shooting was definitely a wrench in the works. No matter who you thought was guilty, the shooting didn’t fit.

  I only had to wait fifteen minutes before Officer Winnie opened the interrogation room door, allowing Ken to push Ellis Rich in his wheelchair into the room. Ken pushed him around the table, moved two chairs, and pushed Ellis up to the table. Officer Winnie appeared to stand guard at the door. All three were silent until Sergeant Rorski came into the room.

  He sat across from Ellis, slapped a folder on the table, and looked at Ken. “Grab one of those chairs and sit down.” It wasn’t a polite request.

  Officer Collins came into the room and placed an evidence bag on the table. The clear bag held a handgun.

  His first question was aimed at Ellis. “Did you leave your house on Wednesday the eleventh?”

  “I did.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “You already know where I went. I had an appointment with my doctor at the time of the incident at the bank. He has already confirmed to you I was there.”

  A tall man with gray hair, a distinguished look, and wearing a power suit barged into the room. “Larry Stoll, attorney for Ellis Rich,” he said, grabbing a chair and seating himself next to Ellis.

  The two men whispered to each other for a minute before Mr. Stoll said. “Let’s cut right to it, Sergeant. Ellis may have had some difficulties with Oscar Preston, but he wasn’t responsible for his death. As he has already proven, he was with his doctor at the time of Mr. Preston’s death.”

  Sergeant Rorski was surprisingly calm. “I haven’t ruled your client out as a suspect in Preston’s murder, but that’s not why we’re here today.” He pointed to the gun. “I’m certain a ballistics test will prove this gun was used in the attempted murder of Oscar Preston outside the bank last Wednesday.”

  Ellis Rich spluttered. “Attempted murder? I did no such thing, and I had no opportunity. I told you, I was with my doctor. I’ve never seen that gun before.”

  The sergeant wasn’t dissuaded. “Do you own a white SUV?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that the vehicle you drove to see your doctor on Wednesday?”

  “I no longer drive. Ken drove me.”

  “Did Ken accompany you into the doctor’s examination room?”

  “Of course not. I have difficulty walking, I’m not incompetent.”

  “And your doctor’s office is downtown? Three blocks from the bank?”

  Ellis nodded.

  “So, there was plenty of time for Ken to go by the bank and attempt to shoot Oscar.”

  Ken didn’t move a muscle.

  “Now why would he do that?” Mr. Stoll asked.

  I wondered if Larry Stoll would also be representing Ken.

  “We have reason to believe Oscar Preston was blackmailing Mr. Rich.” The sergeant looked to Ellis. “You gave him a power of attorney to open your box at the bank to retrieve a blackmail payment. Ken was instructed to make sure that didn’t happen.”

  “Now wait a minute,” Ellis said. “I may not have done right by Oscar with his investment, but I’m not a killer. Whatever Ken did while I was in the doctor’s office is entirely on him. I told you, I’ve never seen that gun before.”

  All eyes went to Ken. For a few seconds he looked like a deer in headlights. Then fear washed across his face.

  “I only did what I was told to do. Ellis asked if I had a gun, and when I said I did, he told me to drop him off at his doctor’s office and then watch the bank for Oscar to arrive. My instructions were to shoot him before he could get through the door. I did shoot, but I didn’t try to hit him. I only wanted to scare him off. I’ve never killed anyone in my life, and I wasn’t going to start now.”

  “Preposterous,” Ellis said.

  His attorney placed h
is hand on Ellis’ sleeve and shook his head slightly, indicating he didn’t want him to say anything more.

  There was a flurry of movement in the room. Ken was handcuffed and read his rights for attempted murder. Ellis Rich was handcuffed and read his rights for conspiracy to murder.

  I was impressed. Sergeant Rorski had taken what I had told him about the shooting and made a plausible assumption as to what had happened.

  When all three men had been removed from the room, Officer Winnie faced the sergeant. “With Hugh Oakes responsible for planting the bomb to kill Rich, and Rich trying to kill Preston, it all comes full circle. Nicely done, Sergeant.”

  Sergeant Rorski harrumphed and made a few unintelligible noises, but I could tell he was pleased with the praise from his officer.

  I decided now was as good a time as any to talk with the sergeant about why Arnie and I thought Hugh Oakes was innocent.

  Three minutes later, I found myself out on the sidewalk with my ears burning. I guess it wasn’t such a good time to talk after all.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I rolled over in bed to check the time on the alarm clock and saw it was shortly after seven. Faint sounds of laughter and a strong odor of bacon and coffee helped to fully awaken me.

  Glenn was a wonderful husband, but he was especially wonderful when it came to houseguests. He had taken care of Hank and Nancy and entertained them more in one hour than I had all week.

  Thanksgiving was tomorrow, and I knew this would be a busy day in the kitchen for Glenn. Nancy was all too happy to help him, and Hank had volunteered to help Mama and Roger at the flea market. I planned to stay out of everyone’s way and make a final push on Oscar Preston’s murder before the long weekend.

  Monday’s visit to the station had been enlightening, and I now believed Ellis Rich had something to do with having the bomb placed in his safe deposit box, whether he did it himself or asked someone else to do it. That meant Jerome Conner was still a suspect, but it would be hard to prove he was the last person in the box before it blew up.

 

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