Redemption (Desire Never Dies)

by Clara Grace Walker

  “Good. See that you do.” Shirley saw him to the door, experiencing one of those giddy moments where she managed to amaze even herself.

  Chapter 33

  Sarge leaned against the head rest of her Buick LaCrosse as they drove north on A1A, content to let Danny do the driving. Oceanfront mansions rolled past the passenger window in an unending line of greenery and metal gates. Danny had left the car radio off, preferring to drive to Palm Beach in silence, which suited her just fine. Gave her time to think. She liked working with Danny. Her didn’t get in her way or annoy her with stupid questions. “Tell me again why I left police work,” she said.

  Danny smiled. A carefree smile that came easily to his aging face. “PI work pays better and you’re less likely to have people shooting at you.”

  “Right.” She nodded. “Did I mention how god-awful boring it is?”

  “Every day since we started this case. Think maybe you were a bit hasty in leaving the force?”

  She sighed. “I don’t know. I felt so burned out when I took early retirement, I didn’t think I’d ever crave excitement again. Working on a case that really challenges me though is making me question that decision.”

  He took his right hand off the steering wheel long enough to pat her on the arm. “Can always get back into it, you know. I hear the police chief in Del Ray is retiring soon.”

  She let out a small chuckle. “Let’s just get through this case for now. I may find my appetite for action has been satisfied by the time we’re done.”

  Danny turned off the A1A, steering the vehicle into the heart of downtown Palm Beach and stopped in front of a small, understated office building off Worth Avenue. He pulled the car into an open parking space, backed up slightly, readjusted his spacing and threw the vehicle into park. “Sure hope you’re wrong about that. Maria threatened to kill me herself if I put myself in harm’s way again.”

  “Your wife’s not a woman I’d mess with,” Sarge observed. “And I consider myself a pretty tough cookie.”

  “That you are,” he agreed, and climbed out of the car.

  Listening to her heels click across the concrete sidewalk, Sarge took a moment to reflect on twenty years of putting herself in the line of fire. She had been tough once. No doubt about it. She’d put away her share of low-life, scum-sucking reprobates in Miami. Even brought down a few in Coral Gables. But was she still tough? Hadn’t she opted for the PI work because she felt age creeping up on her? Forty-eight didn’t make her ready for the retirement home, but she had to face facts. She wasn’t exactly a spring chicken.

  “Ruby van Ketchum.” Danny read the name on the door in front of them. “Kind of low key. From the sound of her on the phone, I expected someone completely ostentatious.”

  Sarge scrutinized the plain black letters on the white door and wondered what she’d find inside. “I’ll settle for someone completely honest,” she said. “That would be a nice change of pace.”

  Stepping inside the reception area, the low-key exterior gave way to the sort of swanky presentation Danny claimed to have expected. Peacock blue walls with gold trim housed a polished clear plastic reception desk, a collection of over-stuffed plum recliners and walls filled with gold and platinum albums, making way for three framed book covers by an author Sarge had never heard of; one Sunny Drysdale. The Lady Elaine detective series according to the covers. Sounded like something she might enjoy. The book covers seemed out of place for an agent representing some larger-than-life names in the music scene.

  A dark-haired girl looked up from the reception desk when they stepped inside, then glanced at the appointment calendar in front of her. “You must be Danny Ventura and Ernesta Freeman. I’ll let Ms. van Ketchum know you’re here.” After picking up a phone and announcing their presence, the girl motioned them inside a door on their right. “Go on in. Ms. van Ketchum is expecting you.”

  Ruby’s office was even louder than the reception area. Stark white walls had been painted with bold, black geometric shapes and outfitted with bright red furniture and a brass desk and coffee table. Incense burned in an elephant-shaped holder in the corner. The scent, or maybe it was the smoke from Ruby’s cigarette, made Sarge sneeze.

  “Danny! Ernesta! So good to meet you both.” Ruby greeted them like old friends. She was tall woman, with a lean body, flaming red hair and lipstick to match. She stubbed her cigarette out in a crystal ashtray. “Oh damn. I’m sorry about the smoke. I sometimes forget the world is turning against us smokers.”

  “Not so much the world as their lungs,” Sarge said. “And thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it. Sit. Sit.” She motioned toward a large red sofa that looked more like a bed than a couch. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  Awkward was more the word Sarge had in mind. She sat precariously on the edge of the sofa, noticing Danny grin at her as he did the same.

  “So, Danny, Ernesta, you wanted to talk to me about Anthony Howard?”

  “Please,” Sarge interjected. “Call me Sarge.”

  Ruby gave her a puzzled look. “Really? Are you former military?”

  “Former police sergeant.”

  “I see.” She clasped her hands together. “Well, Sarge it is then. Can I presume you’d like me to start with what a thieving, back-stabbing bastard Anthony is?”

  Danny chuckled and pulled out his voice recorder. “You can. Mind if I record this?”

  “That depends. Is this a PI visit or an interview for one of Nick Beck’s magazines?”

  “Depends on what we find out.” Sarge smiled at the woman; the kind of smile she used to employ right before she started interrogating a suspect; the one meant to disarm the perp into thinking they were friends. “Maybe a little of both. We’re investigating Anthony Howard, any possible wrong-doing he may be involved in, and his connection to the Coral Reef Center. To the extent our investigation unearths a story worth printing in Just the Facts; you can expect to see that also.”

  “Sort of like killing two birds with one stone?”

  “You could say that.” Sarge liked Ruby. She reminded her a bit of herself. Straight-talking. And, she suspected, happy to let other people think whatever they wanted about her.

  Ruby smiled back, mischief twinkling in her grin. “Fine. Let’s start with what a thieving, back-stabbing bastard he is. But don’t quote me on that.”

  Danny laughed, already clicking on his recorder. “Why don’t you ask the questions, Sarge, and I’ll take notes and do the follow-up?”

  Sarge nodded, turning back to Ruby. “Can I assume you don’t like Anthony Howard?”

  “You don’t have to assume, darling. I detest the man.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s a thief.” She said it simply, like a well-known fact. Like she was telling them the sky was blue. “I pulled my clients from his record label after their royalties were constantly being misplaced.”

  “So why not press charges?” That much seemed like a no-brainer.

  Ruby shrugged. “I can’t prove anything. After I’d ragged on the man enough, the money would eventually show up. If you ask me, he was stealing from other artists at the label to cover the shortfalls.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She smiled. “You know. I’d hear things. One of my clients would finally get paid and the next day some other agent would start bitching about their client’s royalties coming in short. You ask me, the guy’s running some sort of ponzi scheme. Robbing Peter to pay Paul.”

  Not exactly the definition of a ponzi scheme, but it was close, and Sarge didn’t see any point in correcting her. “I don’t understand. If you suspect the guy is stealing from the artists on his label, why not have him investigated?”

  Ruby waved the thought away as if the very idea was preposterous. “Anthony Howard may be a thieving, back-stabbing bastard, but he’s a well-connected thieving, back-stabbing bastard. He’s a very big man in the music business, with a very long reach, even from LA. I don’t need to be seen as a trou
ble-maker. I’d like to continue making sales for my clients. And they’re gone from his label now anyhow, with all the money they had coming to them. As far as I’m concerned, all’s well that ends well. Besides, like I said, I don’t have proof of anything. Just my suspicions.”

  Danny looked up, tapping the voice recorder on his knee. “You’re talking about it now. To us,” he said. “You’re not concerned about that?”

  She grinned. “I’m pinning my hopes on you to dig up enough dirt on Anthony that my involvement will be minimal.”

  Danny nodded. “Got it. You’re happy to point us down the right road, so long as you don’t have to travel it with us.”

  An infectious smile curled around her lips. “I believe we understand each other.”

  “What about Mr. Howard’s connection to the Coral Reef Center, Arthur Belanger or Shirley Cantwise?” Sarge asked. “Do you know anything about them?”

  “Not much about the rehab place.” Ruby thought for a moment. “The Coral Reef Center is connected to someone named Shirley Cantwise?”

  “It is.” Sarge nodded, her cop radar fully engaged. “You know something about Shirley we might be interested in?”

  Ruby rolled her eyes. “I don’t know anything about a Shirley Cantwise, but I do know something about a Dr. Andrew Cantwise.”

  “Andrew Cantwise?” She had Sarge’s full attention now. “We ran him and didn’t find anything on him after he graduated high school. You telling me the guy was practicing medicine up here?”

  A frown puzzled Ruby’s brow. “He was. Cosmetic surgery in fact. Very popular around these parts. Although from what you’re telling me, it sounds like he was doing it without a license. Which, I have to say, I find strange. He had a wall full of certificates.”

  Something wasn’t adding up. Where was Andrew Cantwise? And how could a guy practice cosmetic surgery with a wall full of fake medical licenses?. “You know of any lawsuits or complaints filed against the guy?” she asked.

  “I don’t know of any filed, but that’s because my client didn’t file one. Dr. Belanger decided he would much rather pay my client hush money than risk damage to his reputation.”

  “Your client have a name?”

  “Not one I’m at liberty to share.”

  “Alright then. Are you at liberty to share the details of what happened?”

  “That much I can tell you. My client went in for a medical procedure. Nothing that required hospitalization, just a mini facelift. Done in the doctor’s office. Anyway, she woke up from the anesthetic a little sooner than Dr. Cantwise expected and caught him in the act of molesting her. Had his hand firmly between her legs.”

  “Oh hell.” Sarge got a sinking feeling. Things could be going on at the Coral Reef Center a person might get killed over. “You know, your client really should have gone to the police.”

  Ruby threw her hands up in the air. “I know that, and you know that. But my client’s a big girl and I can’t force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”

  “Of course not,” Danny cut in. He shut off his voice recorder and stood, signaling an end to the interview. “We certainly appreciate your time, Ruby. Please let us know if you think of anything else.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Ruby saw them to the door and Sarge waited until they were safely inside the car before turning on him. “Why did you do that, Ventura? I wasn’t done with her yet. I still had one or two questions.”

  “Sorry, Sarge, but something just clicked in my brain, and I wanted to get working on it right away.”

  “What clicked in your brain?”

  “The thing about Andrew Cantwise disappearing after high school and Arthur Belanger materializing out of thin air.”

  She was losing her edge. “You thinking what I’m thinking? That Andrew Cantwise and Arthur Belanger are one and the same?”

  He nodded. “I think it’s time we looked at the paper trail and not just the digital one.”

  “Start the car up,” she ordered. “We have a little trip to Missouri in our future.”

  Chapter 34

  Running straight to Earl had been Mindy’s first thought as soon as she finished her individual therapy session. Even though he’d apologized for not believing her, however, she wanted to prove him wrong for doubting her in the first place. His belief in her mattered more than she liked thinking. Instead of running to see Earl, she went to the pool and found Nick stretched out on a lounge chair, eyes closed.

  “Okay, Daddio, wake up,” she said. “We have work to do.”

  Nick opened his eyes, shading them from the sun with his hand. “Daddio, huh? I was thinking maybe you’d call me Pops, but Daddio works, too.” Glancing at Rory, doing his fake-nap thing on the other side of the pool, he cast Mindy a questioning look. “You want to do laps?”

  She shook her head. In her mind, she already saw Nick as the father she’d never had. The good kind of dad who really cared about her. And not in a way that was sexual. She was glad he hadn’t objected to the title. “Can you look at something behind the bath house with me? I think I saw a snake.”

  “A snake, huh?” Nick looked again at Rory, but Rory showed no signs of opening his eyes or getting up from his chair. “Sure. Let’s have a look.”

  As soon as they’d made their way to the back of the bath house, a concrete structure painted powder blue with ridiculous swirling clouds along the top, Mindy pointed to the thick growth of trees and other leafy stuff. “I think we should look for Pauline’s body.”

  Nick wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow. “Finding her body would be exactly what I’d need to get the authorities in here. It’s getting the information to Jamie that’s going to be the tricky part.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I can get the information to Earl. Rory told me as long as he’s the one guarding the pool, I can visit Earl whenever I want.

  “That doesn’t sound very CRC-like of him.” Nick frowned. “Why do you suppose he said that?”

  “I don’t know. I’d say he has a crush on me, but letting me sneak off to see another man doesn’t seem like the kind of thing he’d be doing if that were the case.”

  “You’re right about that. Men don’t usually want the woman they’re interested in spending quality alone time with some other guy.”

  “I don’t suppose he’s just being nice?” Mindy threw out the possibility even though she doubted it. It seemed easier to think about than some unknown ulterior motive.

  Nick quickly shook his head. “My guess is Shirley wouldn’t hire anyone to work here she didn’t think she had control over. If Rory’s letting you see Earl, he’s been told to do so. The only question is why.”

  She thought for a second, hating how much it seemed to make sense. “Why would he tell me to make sure no one else knew about it then? And to make sure no one at the hotel saw me there?”

  “That’s a good question.” Nick picked his way through the dense vegetation. “I doubt we can get away with being gone from the pool for too long. We should start looking for Pauline’s body.”

  She followed him into the greenery, through prickly growth that snagged and scratched her skin. Mosquitoes found her quickly, and landed with appalling frequency on parts of her flesh not covered by her bathing suit and shorts. “Remind me next time we come out here to wear sweatpants instead of a bathing suit.” She swatted at the insects and jammed her toe into a stray stone. “Damn! And it sure would be nice if they could outfit us with a pair of sneakers instead of just flip flops.”

  Nick laughed. “And encourage explorations into the woods? I’m guessing they’re not too keen on that around here.”

  “Right.” She trudged after him, looking once behind her to make sure she could still see the bath house. As they moved deeper into the trees, sunlight streamed through leaves in shifting patterns. The heat of the day took on a sticky quality and the air smelled of sweetness and decay. “Do you think we’ll see Pauline’s body right away?” she asked.

&nbs
p; Nick shrugged.

  “I don’t want to trip over it or anything.” She shuddered. “I don’t know what scares me more, finding her body or not finding it.”

  Nick stopped and looked at her. “Maybe you should go back to the pool and let me look. I don’t want you getting hurt out here.”

  “No. I want to help.” She didn’t know why exactly, but helping him made her feel better about herself. Like she might actually provide something useful to the world. “Please.”

  Nick frowned, seeming to consider the matter, and swatted a mosquito from his neck. “Fine. But if I tell you at any point it’s getting too dangerous, I want your word you’ll back off.”

  “Okay, but don’t tell me that unless you’re sure it’s too dangerous. I really want to help. It’s important to me.”

  “Fine.” He resumed trudging through the trees.

  They walked a few yards more, scanning the area around them for a dead, decaying female. The thick tangle of undergrowth made the hunt harder than Mindy had anticipated, and discouragement crept in. She could scarcely be sure of anything more than a few feet around her. They could spend days looking for Pauline. Especially with only half an hour at a time to look.

  Nick stopped again, taking off his t-shirt and using it to mop the sweat from his face. “Tell me about Earl,” he said. “It’s obvious the two of you love each other. So why aren’t you together?”

  Mindy tried laughing his question off. “Damn. You’re really taking this Daddio role seriously, aren’t you?”

  “I am.” He looked and sounded completely serious. “So why don’t you go ahead and tell me?”

  “This must be the downside of having a father.” She didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want to talk about Earl, or even think about him. In a perfect world, she would never have met him.

  “Well.” Nick stared at her, arms folded across his chest, impatience written all over his face. “What’s the story?”

  “There is no story as far as your paper’s concerned.” She didn’t think that wasn’t why he’d asked, but she made the accusation all the same.