Fast Money: A Shelby Nichols Adventure

by Colleen Helme

  I glanced at Dimples. “May I borrow your pen?” my voice was shaking, but this was something I didn’t want to forget. Dimples handed me one and I wrote down the names on the palm of my hand since there wasn’t any paper.

  When I finished, I laid the pen down and kept my hand out of sight. “I’m done here.” It came out whisper-thin, but Dimples could see how upset I was and quickly ushered the killer from the room.

  The police chief and the two officers waited until Dimples took his seat, and then waited some more to let me regain my composure. They knew something significant had happened.

  I swallowed and began. “Do the names Derek Thompson, Abigail Johnson, or Calvin Reid mean anything to you?”

  Dimples pursed his lips, then his eyes lit up with recognition. “Yes. Abigail Johnson. She was murdered about two years ago. We brought in her husband for questioning, but he had an airtight alibi. We never caught the killer.”

  “That’s right,” the police chief remembered as well. He studied me. “What’s the connection?”

  “I know this might be hard to believe, but that man killed all of them. I think he might be a hired killer. He probably killed the bank robber because he was going to implicate someone else, so that someone hired him.” It was on the tip of my tongue to tell them he’d killed a lot more, but I decided to let it go for now. I didn’t want to push my credibility.

  They all sat there dumbfounded. Like I had two heads or something. “You’re going to keep him locked up for a while, right?” I didn’t want to die anytime soon. “You should at least check out his DNA and see if it matches any of the DNA you got at Abigail Johnson’s crime scene. And check the courthouse again for the fake nose and the gun. They’ve got to be somewhere.”

  None of them moved. I glanced at Dimples and raised my eyebrows. It brought him back to his polite self. “Yes, of course we’ll check.” He was thinking he’d never been a witness to anything so freaky, but he had no cause to doubt me before, so he wouldn’t start now. If the chief didn’t feel the same way, he’d convince him that he had nothing to lose.

  “Good. Thanks. I’d like to go now.” I stood. “Using my premonitions like this takes a lot out of me.” They could tell it had, so at least they believed me about something.

  “Sure,” the chief answered. “Thanks for coming in. Can we call you again?”

  “Of course.” I wanted to talk about getting paid, but didn’t have the heart at the moment. It just didn’t matter right then. All I really wanted was to never see that slime ball again. Or at the least, see him put away for the rest of his life, and then hope he died in the electric chair. Not too charitable of me, but seriously, he deserved it.

  I left the room with Dimples at my side. “Could you write down those names for me before you leave?” he asked.

  “Sure, and thanks for checking into this. I know it’s a leap of faith on your part, but I’ve never had such strong premonitions before. Plus, I think he’s killed a lot more people than those three. He was so angry. He’s never been caught, and I ruined all his plans. He would kill me if he ever got the chance, so you won’t let him out will you?”

  “Shelby, it’s okay,” Dimples handed me his pen and a pad of paper, then patted my arm. “We’re not letting him out, and if he’s killed these people, we’ll get him on that too.”

  I relaxed my shoulders and let out a sigh, then quickly wrote down the names. I was looking forward to washing them off my hand. Too bad I couldn’t wash them out of my mind as easily. “Okay, there you go.”

  “Sounds good.” I tried to smile, but I don’t think it worked since he was thinking I looked pale and scared. He smiled back and catching sight of those dimples lightened my mood. “Bye.”

  I couldn’t wait to get home and maybe take a hot bath, or read a good book, anything to get my mind off that jerk.

  I got home and realized Chris had never come to the police station. Maybe his secretary had forgotten to tell him. It was hard to believe that his client had needed all that time, but I decided not to complain, given all those billable hours.

  It was later than I thought, so I had to scratch the bath and the book, going straight to fixing dinner. I tried to keep my mind off the killer, but it was hard not to see those dead faces every time I shut my eyes. Did I have post-traumatic stress syndrome or something like that? It was clear I needed some kind of help that would make me feel in control of my life and not so scared.

  Maybe I should take a self-defense class and get a gun. Except that I hated guns. But at least a self-defense class might do the job. I got on the Internet and searched self-defense and found a close combat training program that looked pretty good. There were also things like stun guns, tasers, and pepper spray that I could carry in my purse.

  Feeling better, I ordered the Stun Gun Flashlight that delivered one million volts of attack-stopping power. It was small, rechargeable and also worked as a flashlight. I ordered some pepper spray too. It came in a cute pink dispenser and I happily signed up for next day delivery. That done, I hurried back to the kitchen to finish dinner.

  Chris came home and I gave him a big hug. “You won’t believe what happened at the police station,” I said. “I wish you could have been there. How come you didn’t come?”

  “My client is such a micro-manager. We had to go over everything before he felt prepared. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was hiding something from me.”

  “He is,” I said, and Chris’ eyes widened. “But I’m not sure I should tell you about it.”

  “Why not? If I don’t have all the answers, the plaintiff and her lawyer could make mincemeat out of us.”

  “Do you get paid more if you win?” I asked.

  “No, but I do have a reputation to maintain,” he raised one eyebrow. “So spill it.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Your client has been siphoning money off their savings account for years. He must have known the marriage wasn’t going to last. But the other thing is…she knows about it and knows where it is. So at your next court hearing, she’s going to reveal it all to the judge.”

  Chris just shook his head, thinking it had been a long day. “Okay, maybe that’s something that’s better for me not to know, and since he hasn’t said anything to me, I’ll try and forget what you said. The trial was changed to a week from Friday so I don’t expect to see him before that.” I followed Chris into his study where he put his laptop on his desk. “So tell me what happened at the police station.”

  “First of all, Dimples told them I had premonitions, so at least I didn’t have to say anything about why I was suspicious of the guy in the elevator. His name is Trent Mercer and he’s supposedly here on business. Since they couldn’t get much information out of him, I kind of volunteered to sit in on the questioning.”

  Chris stilled, and fixed me with a penetrating stare, hoping I hadn’t given too much away.

  “Well…I ended up finding out quite a lot about him, so it was a good thing I was there.” Chris took a deep breath for patience, and I quickly continued. “He was really mad that I’d spoiled all his plans. He never dreamed he would get caught; in fact, most of his clients have never seen his face. I ruined everything, so he was thinking how much pleasure he would take in killing me.” I swallowed. “It made me kind of mad, so I asked him how many people he’d killed. That was when it got bad.”

  “What do you mean?” Chris asked.

  “He’s killed twenty-seven people. Twenty-seven! I even saw some of their dead faces in his mind. I was able to pick up three names. A couple came from newspaper clippings that he thought about. It was awful. I wrote them down without him seeing them, so he doesn’t know I know, but I gave them to the police chief. Dimples actually recognized one of the names, so at least they believed me.”

  “That’s nuts.” Chris pulled me into his arms. “So you think this guy is a hired killer? This is bad. So why was he going after the bank robber?”

  “Because they were afraid he’d talk. It m
ust have been Bishop’s partner or something because when I first saw Bishop at the courthouse, he was thinking that his partner better get him out of there or he was telling everything. The partner must have realized that, and instead of breaking him out, decided to kill him and keep all the money. Mercer would have gotten away with it if I hadn’t intervened.”

  I shivered and Chris rubbed my arms. “Dimples promised me he’d keep him in jail for a while, and they’d see what they could do about linking him to one of the murders, but it still makes me nervous.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. He was thinking this was why he didn’t want me to get involved with the police in the first place. On the other hand, I’d caught a really bad guy. Was it worth it?

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “I don’t want that kind of responsibility. I mean, yes I’m glad that guy is behind bars, but now I have to live with seeing his victim’s faces in my mind, as well as worry that if he gets out, he’s coming for me.”

  “If that’s what he’s thinking, I guess this is one case you’re going to have to see through to the end. You might even have to listen to his thoughts again if the police need more help.” He was sorry I’d gotten involved and that reminded him of my CIA visit that morning, which reminded me about the call I’d received from the bank.

  “Oh, before I forget, the bank manager called about all the money in my account, wondering if I would like to come in and talk to them about investments and stuff. I told them I’d call them back and we’d both come in together.”

  Chris was starting to get stressed out. “I guess it’s hard to keep five million dollars a secret.” Now that was one more thing he had to worry about. He still wished I’d lost my powers, not that it would have stopped Uncle Joey from putting all that money in my account, but the rest of it… “I don’t know what to do about the CIA. I guess nothing for now.”

  “I think you’re right. Although they might be back since I flushed their bug.”

  He sighed, then caught a whiff of cooking food and perked right up. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Taco soup,” I answered. “And it’s almost ready.”

  “Sounds good. I’m going to change my clothes.”

  I hurried back to the kitchen and put the final ingredients in the pot. Joshua came in the door from soccer practice, and all his attention focused sharply on the food. As usual, he was starving, but I made him go wash up before he ate anything. Savannah was in her room talking on her phone, and a sense of accomplishment went through me to know that at least for tonight, we were safe, and could eat dinner together as a family.

  Later, as we were getting ready for bed, Chris got out a pen and paper. He wanted to go over all the things we could do with the money and figure out how to handle the CIA. He propped himself up in bed with the pad of paper on his lap.

  “I’ve been thinking about the money,” he began. “And I think we should talk to the bank tomorrow and see how much interest we can make on it. We may not have the five million for long, but we can certainly take advantage of the situation.”

  “That’s true,” I replied, slipping into bed beside him. “Uncle Joey shouldn’t expect us to fork over the five million plus interest, since he put it in my account in the first place. If for no other reason than the stress he’s caused us, we should get to keep the interest.”

  Chris liked my reasoning skills. “Exactly. So tomorrow, why don’t you call the bank manager and set up an appointment. I don’t have any court appearances tomorrow, so as soon as you have a time, let me know and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Now the other concern is the CIA. Did you pick up anything from them about the money?”

  “No. They were only checking on Uncle Joey because of the arms dealer.”

  “Right.” Chris wrote down CIA and under it put ‘arms dealer’ with a dash to Uncle Joey. “Why do you think he would get involved with an arms dealer in Mexico?”

  “The only thing that I can think of is that he must need guns for some reason. It might have something to do with the money, but I don’t think he would have put the money in my account unless he wanted it out of the equation.”

  “True,” Chris agreed. “So the money needed to be hidden, and I think the proof of that comes from the letter you got where he told you not to tell anyone because it could be a matter of life or death.”

  “Maybe he was thinking that if anyone knew I had the money, they would try to take it from me.” That was unsettling. “Like Kate?” I asked.

  “Exactly so,” Chris replied. “But I don’t think we can rule anyone else out either. The other thing I don’t understand is why he didn’t just send it to one of his bank accounts here? Doesn’t he trust anyone in his organization?”

  “Probably not,” I said. Did that mean he didn’t completely trust Jackie? She seemed like a good person, plus she was in love with him. It didn’t make sense. “He might have trusted Ramos with it, but Ramos went with him to Mexico.” I thought they were probably in trouble, but it didn’t bother me like it should. Did that mean I was getting callous? Or was it more along the lines of self-preservation?

  “What should I do if the CIA agents come back?” I asked. “Since I flushed their bug, they might want to plant another one.”

  “I don’t think they will, but if they do, we can figure it out then. I mean, you’ve done nothing wrong, so there’s no reason for them to be suspicious.”

  “All right.” I snuggled up next to him. “I’m so glad that we’re working on this together.”

  He put the pen and paper on the bedside table and turned out the light. Slipping his arm around me, he held me close, hoping that we’d seen the last of Uncle Joey. Chris was encouraged that Uncle Joey had said we could keep the money if he never came back. That meant he might not, and that was fine with him.

  I was a little hurt that Chris wasn’t thinking about me, like I was about him, but then his thoughts changed direction, and my heart skipped a beat. I managed a squeak before his lips caught mine and I promptly forgot about everything else.

  ***

  I woke with a start. Panic clawed in my throat, and sweat ran down my chest. I bolted upright, clutching the bedding and uttered a small scream. Chris woke and pulled me into his arms. “Hey, babe. It’s all right. It was just a dream. You’re okay now.”

  His words soothed me, and I melted into his warm embrace. The misty fog of my dream retreated, leaving me shaken and wide-awake, but glad it was only a dream. I calmed down and soon my breathing was even and the panic gone.

  “What was that all about?” Chris asked.

  “It was awful. The elevator guy…I mean Mercer was chasing me, and my legs wouldn’t move, no matter how hard I tried to run away. Then he caught me and started to slit my throat with his knife. I tried to scream, but the knife was stabbing my throat and I couldn’t breathe.” I shuddered and Chris tightened his arms around me. “It was horrible!”

  “It’s okay now,” Chris said. “It was just a dream. That guy must have scared you more than we realized.”

  “Yeah. I think seeing those faces in his mind really did a number on me.” Talking about my dream brought it all back, and I fought to stay calm. “I didn’t realize until now, that the faces I saw in his mind all had their throats slit. No wonder I dreamed about it.”

  Chris sighed. This was one more reason out of many he didn’t want me to work with the police. That guy was an assassin and who knows what would happen if he ever got out? Seeing awful things like that was just part of it.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I wish I hadn’t seen that. Now I have to make sure that the guy is put away forever.”

  His irritation that I had read his mind again swept over me, then was gone. He couldn’t be mad after that horrible dream, still…

  “I sure do love you,” I said. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

  He let out a laugh, I’d gotten the best of him that time, but he was okay with it. “I love you
too. Now can you go back to sleep?”

  “Yes.” I hugged him again and turned over on my side to give him some space. He settled down and was soon breathing evenly. I hadn’t exactly told the truth that I could go back to sleep. I was afraid to close my eyes, but at least the panic was gone. I decided to call Dimples in the morning and check up on the guy. Maybe they had found all the evidence they needed to put him away for good, and I wouldn’t need to face him again. I kept those positive thoughts going through my mind and soon fell asleep.

  Chapter 5

  I woke up grumpy. Lack of a good sleep always does that to me, and last night was no exception. After that horrible dream, I decided that maybe consulting with the police was not for me. What else could I do? I could tell when someone was lying. That had to be good for something, right? In fact, that should be something any lawyer would want to know. But that still wouldn’t keep me from knowing awful things.

  How about a mediator or a counselor? I’d already thought about being a marriage counselor, but how about a family counselor? I’d know exactly what people really wanted and needed, and could communicate that with their family. That could work. I wondered if that was something I could do without a license. Probably not.

  “Mom!” Savannah yelled. “Are you coming?” With a jolt, I remembered it was my turn to drive the carpool to school. I threw on a hoodie and hurried to the car. Savannah was embarrassed that I still had my pajamas on, but since I was already in a bad mood, I concentrated on shielding my mind. It worked for a while, but it was a relief when all the kids got out of the car and I could relax.

  I got home to the ringing phone, and picked it up just before it went to voice mail. “Hello?” I said, catching my breath.

  “Senora Nichols?”

  “Yes.” I answered, trying to think of why someone speaking Spanish would call me.

  “This is Inspector Salazar from the Mexican Police Department. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?”