Faye Kellerman_Decker & Lazarus 18

by Blindman's Bluff

  “Exactly. It took off as soon as Harriman left.”

  “And you didn’t see who was inside?”

  “I didn’t even know someone was inside until it left. The windows were very dark. The Saturn made me more nervous than Harriman.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I couldn’t see who was behind the wheel. You should call up Popper Motors.”

  “Marge is doing it right now. Do you think that the car was watching the house or watching Harriman?”

  “I couldn’t say. If I had to guess, it would be Harriman. Or maybe no one.”

  “Did the Saturn have a view of the window you were looking through?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “So not only did this schmuck show up at our house, potentially tainting any useful information he gave me, but he also possibly dragged you into something dangerous.” Decker was trying to control his temper. “I don’t want you and Hannah to stay in the house if I’m not there.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “A strange car with tinted windows and paper plates was parked across the street, and I’m working on a very high-profile murder. Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with Harriman. Maybe it has something to do with me.”

  “But then why did it leave when Harriman left?”

  “I don’t know, Rina. But until I do know, it pays to be careful. Just do me a favor. Stay at your parents’ when I’m not home.”

  “My parents are almost an hour away in traffic and Hannah has school.”

  “She can stay with friends until I get home. You stay at your parents’. Agreed?”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” A broad smile. “But you won’t be getting any home-cooked meals for a while. What about Shabbos?”

  “Call up friends and we’ll get us invited out.”

  If Peter was willing to be that social, he was serious. “And you don’t think you’re overreacting?”

  “No, I’m not overreacting, and even if I was, better to be safe.” Peter was still angry. “I can’t believe he showed up at the house. What an idiot! Or maybe he’s just deranged. I’ll kill that bastard!”

  “Please don’t do that, Peter.” Rina took his hand and smiled. “Cops generally don’t do well behind bars.”

  But he didn’t laugh. Rina took another stab at humor. “If I weren’t so trusting, I would think you’re trying to get rid of us. If I drop in and find you in the middle of a lap dance, your goose is cooked.”

  “The only lap dance I want right now is one with Ms. Beretta. You mess with my wife, you mess with me.”

  THE CALL TO Harriman was brief. Stay away from his house, stay away from his wife.

  “I didn’t mean anything.” He was contrite. “I just wanted to make sure she knew—”

  “That’s not your business, Mr. Harriman, it’s my business. Your part in this investigation is done! Over! Finished! Get it?”

  “Lieutenant, I know you think I’m a weirdo, but I’m not. I’ve worked for the courts for five years and I don’t get a lot of opportunity to do novel things. I suppose I overestimated the worth of my participation. If you need me, call.”

  “Good,” Decker said. “We’ve reached an understanding. Before you get off, I want to ask you a couple of questions. Starting with who drove you to my house?”

  “My girlfriend, Dana. You want her phone number?”

  “I do.”

  Harriman rattled off some numbers. “She’s at work. I just spoke to her a few minutes ago. I’m sure you can reach her.”

  “Brett, did you notice anything unusual when you left my house?”

  “Did I notice anything unusual?” A slight chuckle. “I’m blind.”

  Okay. So he didn’t fall into that one. “Did you hear anything unusual when you left?”

  “Like what?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Unusual?” Harriman was silent, trying to re-create the moment. “I walked back to the car…your wife closed the door to the house…”

  “She told me she didn’t open the door.”

  “I’m sorry to contradict you, but she did open the door. Probably not all the way because her voice still sounded a little muffled. Do you have a security chain on the front door? Maybe she opened it as far as the chain.”

  Decker didn’t answer. “Go on. You heard her close the door…”

  “Uh…I didn’t hear any footsteps nearby. I heard a dog bark. Sounded like a golden or a lab—something medium to large. I didn’t hear voices. There was some distant traffic. We took off…” A long pause. “I think there was a car behind us. Ask Dana.”

  “I will. What’s Dana’s last name?”

  “Cochelli. I’ve got to go back to court. I apologize for being overly zealous.”

  “No problem.” Decker hung up. He was about to call up Harriman’s girlfriend when Grant Kaffey burst through the doors of the squad room. His eyes were wild and his hair was messy, as if it had been raked by nervous fingers. Decker bolted up and attempted to usher him into his office, but the man was too agitated.

  “He’s gone!” Grant said.

  Decker said, “Who’s gone?”

  “Gil! I went to the market to pick up a few staples and when I came back, he’d disappeared!” Grant grabbed Decker’s arms. “You’ve got to find him!”

  “Let’s go inside the office and talk about—”

  “What’s there to talk about!” Grant screamed. “He’s gone! Just find him! Isn’t that your fucking job?!”

  Decker kept his voice even. “If you all hadn’t disappeared in the first place, this might not have been necessary. If you want me to find your brother, let’s go into my office and you can tell me what happened. And if I find you credible, then I’ll think about an APB. Right now, buddy, from my standpoint, you look like suspect number one!”

  The color drained from Grant’s face. “You think I hurt him?” Then his face turned crimson. “You think I’d hurt my own brother!”

  Decker flung open the door to his office. “After you.”

  Kaffey weighed his options, then stormed across the threshold of Decker’s office.

  Score one for the lieutenant.

  Decker closed his office door. “Did you call 911?”

  “I called the police,” Grant said. “They told me that an adult missing for an hour wasn’t a crime. I tried to explain the situation, but the guy was an asshole.” He was pacing on whatever little floor space there was. “I hung up and came out here.”

  “Where were you staying?”

  “Somewhere in the Hollywood Hills. One of Gil’s buddies owns the place. He told my brother we could have it for the month.”

  Decker said, “You drove all the way from Hollywood?”

  “I was panicked! I didn’t want to stay alone in the house and I didn’t know what to do. You’re the enemy I know rather than the enemy I don’t know.”

  “We’re on the same side, Mr. Kaffey. I need the address of the house.”

  Grant was still pacing. “I don’t know it, but I could point out the house. It’s near a big street with lots of little cafés. Gil and I had dinner there last night.”

  “Hillhurst?”

  “Yeah, Hillhurst. Right.”

  “Are you staying east or west of Hillhurst?”

  “West…between Hillhurst and Tower.”

  “Gower?”

  “Yeah, Gower. If we ride down Hollywood, I could probably direct you.”

  “How’d you find your way here?”

  “I used the navigation system.” Grant stopped moving and regarded Decker. “We need to go now.”

  “Where is Antoine Resseur?”

  “Antoine?” Grant was confused. “At his apartment. Why? Where should he be?”

  “I thought Gil was going to stay with Antoine Resseur. What changed his mind?”

  “Resseur felt that Gil’s place and his place were targets. So Gil picked out another location. Why are you bringing up Antoine?”

  “H
e’s missing. I was under the impression that he left with you two.”

  “He did, but then he left and went back home, I thought.” A pause. “Do you think Antoine had something to do with it?”

  Decker sidestepped the question. Resseur hadn’t been in his apartment for the last two days. That marked him as either a suspect or a scared man. “Do you know the name of the driver who took you to the house? We could call him and get the address.”

  “No.” His face turned red with fury. “Why aren’t you making calls to your people?”

  “To make calls to my people, I need an address. Hold on. Let me think.” Decker picked up the phone and called up the Hollywood station, asking for Detective Kutiel. It was a stroke of luck that his daughter was at her desk. “It’s your favorite Loo. I’ve got Grant Kaffey in my office. Apparently his brother is missing.”

  “Not apparently!” Grant shouted. “He’s missing! Why don’t you believe me?”

  Over the phone, Cindy said, “I heard that. How long has he been missing?”

  “About an hour, maybe a little longer,” Decker said.

  “An hour?” Cindy said. “Maybe he took a walk.”

  “He just got out of the hospital, so I don’t think so. It could be that someone came by and picked him up—”

  “Impossible!” Grant yelled.

  “Picked him up to get away from his brother?” Cindy asked.

  “The thought crossed my mind,” Decker told her. “Antoine Resseur—Gil’s ex-partner—has been missing since the shooting at the hospital. It could be the two of them ran away—”

  “He didn’t run away with Antoine!” Kaffey interjected. “Someone fucking kidnapped him!”

  “Hold on!” Decker covered the mouthpiece with his hand. “Excuse me while I finish up the conversation. I’m not cutting you off, but if you want help, we’ve got to get a plan going.” To Cindy he said, “The Kaffeys were staying in your territory. Somewhere between Gower and Hillhurst but I don’t know the address—”

  “Beachwood!” Grant said triumphantly. “Is there a Beachwood street or boulevard?” When Decker nodded, he said, “We’re staying on Beachwood.”

  Decker related the information to Cindy. “We’re on our way over. He can point out the house. Do you have time right now?”

  “What do you want me to do? Hop in the car and hunt around the street?”

  “That would be a start.”

  “And what exactly am I looking for?”

  “Start with Antoine Resseur’s car. It’s a 2006 red BMW 328i.” He gave her the license number. “If Gil was picked up by anyone, I’m betting it was him. Could be they just went out for lunch—”

  “Jesus fucking Christ!” Grant shouted. “Gil was in no shape to go out!”

  “Why not?” Decker countered. “You two went out for dinner last night.”

  “And it took me about twenty minutes of helping him in and out of a wheelchair. Besides, if he had gone out, he would have left me a note.”

  Not if he wanted to get away from you. Out loud he said, “Is the wheelchair still in the house?”

  He didn’t answer right away. “I don’t remember.”

  Decker went back to the phone. “If you could put out a call to the cruisers to look for Resseur’s car, that would be helpful.”

  “Not a problem. I’m just about done here anyway. I don’t mind driving around the area. It’s a good way for me to unwind and besides, Koby’s still working. Call me when you’re in the city, okay?”

  “I will. Thank you, Detective.” He hung up. “Mr. Kaffey, think hard. Where might your brother have gone?”

  He slumped into one of the chairs across from Decker’s desk. “I don’t know!”

  “Have you called Neptune Brady yet?”

  “No.” He hesitated a moment. “Honestly, I don’t trust him. At least you’re neutral.”

  “How’d you get over here?”

  “I drove. Gil had set up a rental at the house.”

  “Gil set it up?”

  “Maybe it was Antoine.” Grant flew from the chair and started to pace. “I don’t know! That’s why I’m here. Because I don’t fucking know!”

  “Where’s your uncle?”

  “Mace?” Grant made a face. “I don’t know. I thought he left to go home.”

  “Was he well enough?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him. I don’t know if I trust him. I don’t know who to trust. I just want my brother to be okay.”

  Tears in Grant’s eyes. His voice broke. “Can we go now?”

  Decker picked up the car keys. He had more questions to ask, but he figured he could do that on the way to the house. Grant might be more amenable to talking then.

  Nothing as sweet as a captive audience.

  TWENTY-SIX

  THE HOUSE THAT Grant pointed out was a 1960s modern perched on the crest of a mountain: low slung and built into the rocky crag. The exterior was glass, steel, and white stucco and was ringed with large camellia bushes in full pink bloom. Grant’s identification was confirmed when his key opened the door.

  The first thing Decker noticed was a vertigo view of the entire L.A. basin. It was all glass with no seams, giving the space a greenhouse look. It was one story and sprawled from room to room: handy for someone who was wheelchair bound—as long as the person didn’t crash into the glass. The wood floors were stained ebony but the rest of the house, including the vaulted ceilings and walls, were painted a deep taupe.

  The furniture was also 1960s in style but looked too new to be original. There was a low-slung gray velvet sofa, a love seat fashioned from multicolored leather polka dots framed with aluminum tubular molding, a red plastic chair fashioned into the shape of a hand, and a psychedelic area rug.

  Decker and his daughter exchanged glances. A quick once-over told them immediately that nothing appeared out of place. There was no obvious sign of a struggle. Vases and knickknacks stood upright on tables and shelves. The dining room chairs were neatly spaced around the table, and the kitchen counter with all its appliances and accoutrements looked undisturbed.

  Off an open area that contained the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen were two long hallways—one to the left and one to the right. Grant was already seated on the couch with his eyes closed. He was wan.

  Decker said, “When was the last time you ate?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Go eat something. You’ll need to keep up your strength. Where’s Gil’s room?”

  “To the left, all the way down. The house has two master suites, which is why Gil liked it.”

  To Cindy, Decker said, “I’ll take the left, you take the right.”

  “You’re going to go through my things?” Grant asked Cindy.

  “Briefly.”

  “Maybe I should come with you.”

  “Go eat something,” Decker said. “Let us do our job.”

  Surprisingly, Grant acquiesced with a nod.

  “Come in when you feel better,” Cindy told him. Although she dressed for comfort, she still managed to look stylish: brown pants, a gold sweater, and an orange jacket that matched her flaming ginger hair. She had pulled back her mop into a ponytail and it swayed as she walked. Pearl earrings were her only concession to adornment. When she and Decker met back in the living room, twenty minutes later, the Los Angeles sky was tumbling in pinks and oranges.

  Grant was on the phone. He quickly excused himself and hung up. “Anything?”

  “Nothing seems out of place to my eye,” Cindy said. “You’re very neat. I tried to disturb your order as little as possible.”

  Decker said, “Did you find the wheelchair?”

  Cindy shook her head no.

  “Neither did I.” He turned to Grant. “Your brother doesn’t have a lot of clothing. Three shirts, a couple pairs of pants, two pairs of pajamas, two robes, a pair of slippers, and a pair of loafers.”

  “How many robes?”

  Decker consulted hi
s list. “A white terry robe hanging in the bathroom, and a silk maroon robe in the closet.”

  “Gil had way more silk robes than that. That was his preferred mode of dress. Silk robes over silk pajamas except when we went out.”

  Decker shook his head. “There were some spare hangers.” He took a seat next to Grant. “You’re not going to want to hear this, Mr. Kaffey, but to me, it seems that your brother packed up and left in your absence.”

  “He wasn’t in good shape.” Grant appeared truly baffled. “Why would he do that?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Maybe someone had a gun to his head.”

  “That’s a possibility.” Decker paused. “But everything in his room looked very neat. You’d think if he were packing while his life was being threatened, he’d drop a hanger or the drawers would look a little messier.” He turned to Cindy. “Did you find anything that indicates a kidnap, Detective?”

  “Quite the opposite. Everything is really neat.”

  Grant faced Cindy, his eyes wet with tears. “But why would he just leave like that? Without telling me? Without leaving me a note?”

  Decker raised his eyebrows. “This may also be what you don’t want to hear, but it could be he doesn’t trust you.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Grant sputtered out. “We’re not only brothers, we’re best friends. If anyone should be suspicious, it should be me. He left me all alone. That’s what you do when you’re trying to set someone up.”

  Decker held out his hands and shrugged. “Until we know what’s going on, it’s smart to take precautions. Get a bodyguard. If you don’t trust Brady, find someone yourself. And you should probably move out. Wherever you end up, tell me, okay?”

  “Do you think Wind Chimes in Newport would be okay?”

  “If you stay at Wind Chimes, you’ll need a staff of bodyguards. If I were you, I’d go smaller.”

  Grant said, “What do you think about Neptune? Should I trust him?”

  “How about if we talk about it on the way back to the station house. Why don’t you pack up a few things and then we’ll go?”

  “Is it safe for me to do that?”