The Highest Stakes

by Rick Reed

  Susan looped an arm in Jack’s and said to the woman, “That’s interesting, but we just need a room.”

  “Of course you do, sweetie,” Millie said and pushed a plastic key card across to Jack. “Room 375.”

  Jack took the key and said, “A friend of ours was here earlier. He might have been with two other men.”

  Millie turned all business. “We don’t allow employees to discuss guests. What guests do here is their own business.”

  “Can I speak to a manager?”

  “I’m the owner,” Millie said. “One of them at least.”

  Jack and Susan exchanged looks. Jack wondered if she let her other registration clerks wear such seductive clothing and flirt with the guests. This woman really didn’t fit his expectation or first impression of the Sugar Creek Inn.

  Millie must have interpreted the look they were giving her and said, “I was at a party and one of my girls had to leave unexpectedly. I don’t usually work the front. Hell, I don’t usually work here at all. Yet here I am.”

  Jack thought about ditching the Mr. and Mrs. Jones act and pulling his badge. He wanted to ask her how long she had been on the desk. Had someone named Ellert checked in? If so, was anyone with him? Did it hurt like a bitch to have that tree tattooed into her chest? He was saved from a decision when she said, “Anything else I can do for you I’d be more than happy to—Mr. Jones.”

  She had once again turned into the seductress. Susan took him by the arm and led him toward the elevators. Over her shoulder she said, “I’m sure we’ll be just fine.”

  Jack could see Susan was a little ticked off. He couldn’t resist. He turned and asked Millie, “Do you have a list of the movies we can rent?”

  This time Susan slapped him on the shoulder and pulled him toward the elevators.

  “What? I just wanted to know what kind of place we were staying in,” he said when they got out of earshot of Millie.

  “I’m not staying here,” Susan said matter-of-factly. “You can if you want.”

  “It might be fun,” he said with a playful grin.

  “Oh please! She’d eat you for breakfast.”

  Jack grinned even wider. “You think?”

  “Don’t make me regret helping you, Murphy,” she said. “Do you think Ellert is involved?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “I can’t think of any other reason Major Ellert would call here right after his run-in with Moon Pie. If he’s calling here still, maybe Quinn is here. It’s a long shot, I know, but we need a safe place right now, and maybe we’ll see Quinn or Shirl or Moon Pie. Two birds with one stone.”

  “We absolutely can’t stay here, Jack,” Susan said, glancing toward the red-haired cougar. “Why don’t I go back to Evansville and talk to the CIA guys? What can they do to me? They’ll question me and let me go. I can be your eyes and ears. I think we should find out what the CIA is doing.”

  It was tempting. She probably wouldn’t be in any danger. After all, he was the one that did the “nut scootin’ boogie” with Agent Thompson. But then again, these guys had the power to turn the police department against him and shut down their investigation. There would be too many questions that Susan couldn’t answer. And he didn’t want them to know about Shirl and Moon Pie if they didn’t already.

  He said, “You will probably be arrested. Maybe disappear for a while. You know too much.” He figured they probably wouldn’t get anything out of Millie unless he assumed his cop role, and even then she could tell him to go to hell.

  “Did Payne give you Kathy Malbon’s address or phone number?” he asked.

  Susan dug in her purse and handed him a scrap of paper.

  “I didn’t get her address but I know where she works,” Susan said. “It’s a company called Brodstetters. Some kind of accounting firm.”

  “We’ll need some quarters,” Jack said and patted his pockets.

  “I’ll get it. You don’t need any more complications in your life,” Susan said.

  Susan got change and they drove to a pay phone, where Susan made the call to the accounting firm. She held the phone where Jack could hear.

  A woman answered, and Susan said, “Miss Malbon, please.”

  “I’m sorry but she isn’t available. Can someone else help you?”

  “Can you tell me how to reach her?”

  The woman said, “May I ask what this is in reference to?”

  “No, you may not,” Susan said, and Jack took the phone from her.

  “Hello, miss,” Jack said. “I’m a police detective. That was my secretary. I’m sorry for her bluntness.” He gave Susan a sideways look, and she again slapped him on the shoulder. “I need to speak to Ms. Malbon right away. It’s police business. Can you help me?”

  The woman seemed to thaw. She said, “Like I told your secretary, Ms. Malbon is not in the office now. Can I—”

  Jack interrupted her and said, “It’s very important I contact her right now. Her life may be in danger.”

  “I can call her,” the woman offered, and now Jack lost his patience.

  “This is life or death. Listen up, if I have to come to your office I won’t be this nice.”

  This seemed to get the woman’s attention. “Oh my God!” she said. “Ms. Malbon asked not to be disturbed, but I guess I can tell you. She’s at a conference today,” the woman was saying and Jack felt disappointed. “She’s in Henderson at a CPA conference. I can give you the telephone number for the hotel.”

  “Can you tell give me the address of the hotel?” Maybe we just got lucky.

  He listened, thanked the woman and hung up.

  “She’s at the Sugar Creek Inn.”

  Susan gaped at him.

  * * *

  Susan stood outside the closed doors to the second-floor conference room at the Sugar Creek Inn. She had peeked in and the room was full. More than half were women.

  “We don’t know what she looks like. How do we find her?” she asked.

  The sound of clapping came from behind the doors. Jack said, “Come on,” and pushed the doors open.

  People were sitting in clusters, talking, some were milling about, grazing the snack table like a herd of—well—accountants. Only a few women were leaving the room. Jack hoped Kathy Malbon wasn’t one of them.

  He spotted a short balding man standing by the podium. Jack approached him and saw he was fiddling with the audio and video equipment.

  “Before you turn that off . . .” Jack said and the man looked up. Jack flashed his badge quickly, hoping the man didn’t notice he wasn’t from Henderson PD. “Can you ask Ms. Malbon, Kathy Malbon, to come to the podium?” Jack said.

  “That’s me,” a voice said from behind them.

  * * *

  Like most conference hotels, The Sugar Creek Inn had a business center. Jack, Susan, and Kathy Malbon sat close together with the door shut. Jack thought she was beautiful, in a country sort of way, with a milky complexion that needed no makeup, dark brown eyes, and blond curls falling in soft waves around her face. Jack couldn’t imagine Shirl dumping her for a hooker. She was probably close to Shirl’s age—he guessed about fifty-something. Maybe Shirl was one of those guys running from his age.

  He showed her his credentials again. “I’m Jack Murphy,” he said and extended his hand.

  “Susan Summers,” Susan said.

  Kathy shook their hands. She said to Jack, “I know who you are. I’ve seen you on television.”

  “We just need to ask you a few questions,” Jack said, and watched her for a reaction. She seemed prepared for him, like she knew he would be coming and dreaded it.

  “What’s he done this time?” she asked. “I haven’t talked to Shirl for quite some time.”

  “He hasn’t done anything . . . yet. But I can see you still care for him. He may be in serious trouble” Susan answered. Susan had read her correctly. Kathy Malbon was obviously still in love with Shirl.

  “What kind of trouble?”

  Jack said, “An
ATF agent was shot. A man we think was involved in that shooting was killed last night.”

  Her shoulders drooped slightly, hands clasped tightly in her lap. “You think that Shirl and Skippy are involved?” she asked.

  Jack hadn’t mentioned Skippy Walker.

  “Tell me what you know,” Jack said.

  She met Susan’s eyes. “Shirl and I . . . what caused our divorce . . . well, he was seeing other women. Quite a few other women, actually. This last one is young enough to be our daughter,” she said, and scoffed at the idea.

  The barest hint of tears came into her eyes as she began to talk. “Well, I was here, at the hotel early this morning to get things set up for the conference when I saw Shirl come in. I naturally watched to see who he was meeting. Maybe I wanted to see if he was cheating on this one too.”

  “And . . .” Jack prompted gently. He wanted to cut to the chase, but sometimes you have to let a person tell the story their way.

  “I saw Skippy with Shirl. Skippy is Shirl’s partner. I met him after Shirl’s demotion. I couldn’t believe they were sticking Shirl with someone like that. But I guess Shirl was lucky to have a job. Anyway, they were in street clothes, not uniforms, and I didn’t know they ran around together outside of work.” She looked at Jack and Susan to see that they were on the same page before continuing.

  “I was up by the conference room and they were in the lobby, just standing there like they were waiting for someone. Then this other man met them.”

  Jack took the picture of Quinn from his pocket and handed it to her. “Does this look like the guy?”

  She looked at the picture and shook her head, but said, “I think that’s the guy that met them later.”

  Jack let her hold on to the picture. “So four men met? Can you describe the third man?”

  She gave an exact description of Major Ellert, minus the security uniform.

  “Have you ever heard the name Jim Ellert?” Jack asked.

  She thought for a second. “No. I don’t think so.”

  “Okay,” Jack said. “You saw a third man meet Shirl and Skippy in the lobby. What happened next?”

  “I remember I thought it was strange because they never spoke to each other. Not even a hello. Except for Skippy of course. He looked like he was nervous and said a few things to Shirl and the other man, but they never answered him. Then they got on the elevator. I stayed in the conference room and cracked the door to see what floor the elevator stopped on. It stopped on this floor. I saw them get off and go down the hallway to a room. They must have already had a key because they just went inside.”

  She gave a nervous laugh and said, “You probably think I’m horrible.”

  “Not possible,” Jack said. “You are helping us considerably.”

  Susan smiled at her and said, “Please continue.”

  Kathy Malbon looked even more embarrassed if that was possible, and said, “I didn’t know what to do. I thought maybe they were having a party and expecting . . . others. You know?”

  “Okay,” Jack said.

  “I finished setting up for the conference—that took about fifteen minutes or so—and I thought about leaving, but my curiosity got the best of me. I wanted to see if there were other women coming to the room. That’s when this man came into the lobby.” She handed the picture of Quinn back to Jack, and said, “At least I think it was this man. It’s hard to be sure.”

  Jack’s heart was racing. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake the rest of it out of her, but Susan had put a hand on his knee.

  “And I saw the guy go to the stairs. He was carrying a big briefcase. Like a catalog case, you know? And he turned down the same hallway and went to the room. He let himself in without knocking.”

  “Did they leave the room?” Jack asked. He’d talked to enough witnesses to know when they were finished. Now he’d have to help her remember the rest of the details.

  “I saw the man in that picture leave,” she said. “I didn’t stay much longer. No one went in or came out while I was watching.”

  “How long was this guy in the room?” Jack asked, holding up the picture.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Just tell us what you remember,” Susan said.

  “I’m trying. It’s just so hard to imagine Shirl being involved with a murder. He was such a sweet man, a good man, and then he changed.”

  “Kathy,” Susan prompted.

  “Yes. Yes, that’s the man I saw. He was in the lobby and just looked out of place, I guess that’s why I noticed him ”

  “What time was all of this?” Jack asked.

  “I got here at five this morning. Maybe around six or six thirty.”

  “Do you remember what room?” Jack asked.

  * * *

  Kathy Malbon showed them which room she had seen Shirl and Moon Pie enter. Jack thought about searching the room but that would, once again, mean tipping their hand. Besides, on the boat Ellert had tried to call the room several times and according to Susan was unsuccessful, so chances of anyone being in there were slim. Shirl was an ex-detective. He wouldn’t leave evidence lying around the room.

  Now they were on the Twin Bridges approaching the Evansville city limits. Jack had part of a plan formed in his mind. He would have to find Shirl. Maybe Susan was right about approaching him. Telling him they knew everything. He might not confess to anything, but at least Jack would see if he was lying, and maybe stop whatever they were planning next.

  Susan had powered her cell phone on to call Mabel again when the screen lit up.

  “Hello, Reverend,” she answered.

  “You gave him your personal phone number?” Jack asked.

  She motioned for Jack to be quiet. Then she handed the phone to Jack. “I called while you were ogling the Tree of Life and asked him to get Ellert’s finances for us.”

  “Thanks. I forgot about him.” He said into the phone, “Susan’s telephone.”

  “Detective Murphy?” Payne’s voice sounded weak and unsteady. Jack felt a little ashamed of the way he’d treated the old man. In his defense, it wasn’t good practice to get too chummy with a career criminal. “So good to hear your voice,” Payne said.

  “It’s just wonderful to hear from you as well, Reverend. Susan’s here next to me, and she’s wonderful too. So now that we’re all wonderful and glad to hear from each other, can you get to the friggin’ point?”

  Payne’s laughter sent him into a coughing spasm. When he composed himself again, he said, “You’re a hard man, Jack.”

  “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” Jack said. “Now can you get to the point . . . please?”

  Again the deep laugh. “I’m old. You must learn patience.”

  “I’m not real good at patience, Reverend.”

  Payne was either hooting with laughter or having a stroke. Not that Jack cared, but he wanted the information before the old convict croaked. The laughter was coming in big whoops and Jack held the phone out so Susan could hear, and she started laughing too. She had a nice laugh.

  When Payne settled down, he asked for Susan. Jack shoved the phone toward her and she carried on a long conversation, but all Jack could hear were a lot of “uh-huhs” and “yeahs.” Occasionally he’d hear an “Is that right?” or an “Are you serious?” but mostly just “uh-huhs.”

  She punched the end button and put the phone back in her bag.

  “You didn’t let me say good-bye,” Jack groused.

  “Are you always like this?” she asked.

  “Being chased by the CIA might have something to do with my attitude right now. What did he tell you?”

  Susan summarized the call for him. By the time they turned west on Veterans Memorial Parkway, he had a pretty good idea of the updated financial picture of the suspects. Moon Pie was spending all of his savings, Ellert appeared to be pulling up stakes, and Shirl was moving all of his money into high-risk investments.

  Jack turned around and sped back toward Henderson. He sa
id, “Stu gave me the pieces of the puzzle but I was too stupid to see where they fit.”

  “Where are we going?” Susan asked.

  “To see the Tree of Life again,” Jack said. “I want to get to the root of this. Get it? The root?”

  Susan groaned.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Millie was still on duty at the motel desk, and when she saw Jack she winked. She ignored Susan when they walked up to the desk.

  Jack held his badge on the counter. “I’m a cop, and I need to see your register,” he said. He hoped she didn’t ask to see his identification, because, that would mean giving his real name. As fast as the CIA was working, there may be a BOL out on him and Susan by now.

  Millie, who Jack had come to think of as “The Tree of Life,” was suspicious now. Allowing them to masquerade as the Joneses to have an illicit affair was one thing, but talking to the cops was another.

  Jack pulled his jacket back so she could get a look at his gun and that seemed to do the trick. Murphy’s Law says, “You attract more flies with honey, but you get more attention with a gun.”

  “All of the guests are on the computer,” Millie said. “Can I ask whom you’re looking for?”

  He doubted that all of the clientele was on her computer. There were customers and then there were customers. The difference in registration was how many hours they spent in the room. “I just need a name for someone who rented Room 322.”

  She hesitated, but she probably had dealings with cops before and knew when to clam up and when to cooperate. She rummaged behind the counter and put several stacks of cards on the counter. They were similar to the card he had signed earlier.

  “I thought you said all the guests were on the computer?” Jack asked, thinking she was trying to stall him.

  “They are. But it might be easier for you to go through the cards for this week than for me to search the computer. And to tell the truth, I truly don’t like giving you this information”

  “I can lock you up, seize your computer and these cards, search everyone’s room and get statements from everyone, and . . .”

  “You say Room 322?” She punched some keys and then a confused look crossed her features. “Room 322 is not here. I mean it’s not on my system. How did that happen?”