I looked up from rifling through the glove compartment and found a teenage boy staring at me. He stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs holding a bag of garbage in his hand.
I tried to smile, but he wasn’t buying it. The boy dropped his bag of garbage and bolted up the stairs toward Teddy and Freddy’s apartment.
I ran my hands underneath the seats. Nothing. I pulled out the rubber inserts in the cup holders and flipped down both visors. Nothing. I opened the armrest, got a whiff of something rotten, and immediately closed it again.
One of the Wonder Twins appeared on the second-floor walkway and charged down the stairs.
“Dude, thief, stop.” He jerked open the passenger-side door. “I’ll call …” He stopped when I took off the cowboy hat.
“You shouldn’t leave the van unlocked.”
“Oh, dude?” Teddy’s hair was cut short and had an orange tint, but I still recognized him as the nice Wonder Twin.
The teenage boy ran up behind him. “See, I told you. I’ll go tell Mom to call the cops.”
“No. That’s okay,” Teddy told him. “She’s cool. She works with us.” He reached into his Bermuda shorts and pulled out his keys. “We’re, like, trading nights with her. Freddy and me.” He leaned into the open door while twisting one of the keys around the metal circle. “Callum called earlier.”
I eyed the teenager who was standing nearby and listening to every word we said. “Did you tell Callum I’d been here?”
He smiled. “No, dude. That must have totally slipped our minds.” The key twisted free and he tossed it in the open door. It landed on the passenger seat next to me. “But Callum said Rod was, like, you know, totally narcing it up. So, dude, maybe you should check in with Callum and get more info on that, ’cause, like, it would totally suck to trust the wrong person.” He pointed to the back of the van. “The cell phone’s in the back.”
He started to close the door.
“Wait,” I called, and he stopped. “I’m sorry if I ever hurt your feelings.”
He smiled. “It’s all good.” He closed the door and walked away with the teenager.
I picked up the key and put it in the ignition. The van started and so did the heater and a cassette tape of something loud and awful. I turned the heater and the music off and looked out the window.
Teddy stood with the boy at the base of the stairs. He must have said something funny because the teenager laughed before picking up his garbage and disappearing with it around the back. Teddy watched him go and then looked back at me.
I raised my hand in a small wave and Teddy smiled, nodded, and went up the stairs.
The flashing gas indicator brought me back to planet Earth. I drove through the tree-lined streets of Westchester toward a gas station on Oak I’d never used before. I wanted to stay away from places I’d be recognized.
I filled up, using the station gas card the Wonder Twins kept in the glove compartment. Paying with the station gas card was risky since the cops could trace it, but I’d spent all my money and had no other choice. Next I found the cell phone Teddy had mentioned.
Callum picked up on the first ring. “What?”
“Does this mean you’re not on my side anymore?”
I was treated to a long string of obscenities, some of which were used in completely original combinations.
“I’m not even sure what that last thing is,” I said when he’d finally run down. “Was that a body part?”
“Jokes? You’re making jokes now? Do you know how much trouble you’re in?” I heard him take a giant breath and let it out. “Lilly, when I get my hands on you …What have you and Rod done? Do you know how short-staffed we are? I had to put the Wonder Twins on-call tonight. Now there’s some giant smack-down going on at Zingo’s, and I can’t get those two bozos to answer a page. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Penny Saver is scooping us.”
“What about the smackdown?” I rushed to ask. “Have they captured anyone?”
“According to the scanner, there’s a white male in custody.”
Had Bud’s luck really run out? It didn’t seem possible.
“But you should be more concerned with Rod,” Callum continued.
“What about him?”
“He’s also in custody, but not for long. I’ve got a source who says Rod gave them a description of your car and who you were with in exchange for his release.”
Hearing confirmation of Rod’s treachery brought on a fresh wave of hurt and anger. “How did they catch Rod?”
“Turned himself in, like the smart boy he is.”
“When was this?”
“Two hours ago.”
The timing fit perfectly. Rod’s description of the Fury must have led to Bud’s arrest, and now Rod was going free. But did he still have the tape?
I took a breath. “You said they’re letting him go?”
“Fast, huh? Shows what an expensive L.A. lawyer can do for you.”
I didn’t have an expensive L.A. lawyer. At the moment I didn’t have much of anything. “Did Trent tell you he fired me?”
“Yes, but he’ll come around. We’ll get this whole thing straightened out and he’ll come around.”
“What if we don’t get this whole thing straightened out?”
Callum sighed. “Listen. I’m going to talk sense now, and although it’s hard for you, please listen.” He paused. “You have to turn yourself in. Tell me where you are and I’ll come get you and arrange some kind of peaceful surrender. I’ll even arrange a lawyer.”
“I’ll take you up on that offer in a few hours, but I have an errand to run first.”
I hung up before he could protest.
I took my jacket out of the bag and retrieved the small piece of paper Bud had given me. I entered the numbers into the cell phone and waited.
After several rings the voice mail picked up. I hung up and redialed.
This time he picked up on the fourth ring. “Tom Sinclair here.”
EIGHTEEN
This is Lilly Hawkins.”
A long pause, then the salesman’s voice he’d used at the ballpark turned on. “Lilly. I’m overjoyed to hear from you. I’ve been worried sick. After our misunderstanding this afternoon I wasn’t sure what happened to you.”
“Did I misunderstand you leaving me to be murdered?”
“You must know I was going for help.”
I managed not to swear. My mother would have been proud. “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard some really lame things.”
“Lilly, I am—”
I cut him off. “I have the tape.”
Silence.
“I have the tape,” I repeated. “I want to meet.”
He cleared his throat. “What tape is that?”
I started to throw the phone, but at the last second didn’t let go. Instead I channeled my anger into my voice. “Don’t play games with me. I have had it. Do you know what today’s been like? This is your only chance. I’m about five seconds from calling the cops and getting myself out of this mess.”
“You can’t do that.” The salesman’s voice vanished. “Please, I’m sure we can come to terms. How much do you want for it?”
How much? I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“The old man can pay cash,” he offered. “And I’m sure there’ll be enough for you and your reporter friend.”
I jerked to attention. “Reporter friend?”
“The one in all the ads. Todd Burly, or whatever his name is. He left me a message.”
“His name is Rod Strong and he’s not my friend.” If Rod was actually trying to sell me out to both the cops and Sinclair, you had to give him credit for nerve. Maybe he would go for a hat trick and call the Eastside Crew too. “What did he want?”
“His message implied he had the tape or at least knew where it was.”
“He’s lying,” I lied.
“Don’t worry. I passed him on to Leland’s people to check out.”
I could handle Sinclair, but what if Warner and his henchmen got involved? “That’s fine, but don’t pass me on to Leland’s people too. This deal is between you and me. Otherwise I’m going straight to the police.”
“But he’s the one with the money.”
“After we’ve met and come to terms, you can go to him for the money, but only then.”
“Yes. Of course.” Sinclair paused. “How about we meet at the ballpark? I have all the keys and I can send the security guard away. It’ll be deserted. We can meet in my office by the front entrance.”
He was right, the ballpark would be deserted, but I didn’t know if I liked that. A lot of bad things can happen in deserted places. On the other hand, the layout gave me perfect cover to hide and watch for an ambush. “It has to be alone. If you tell anybody or bring some of Warner’s thugs, the tape is going straight to the police.”
“I swear I won’t. You have my word.”
“How soon can you meet?”
“I have to make up an excuse for my wife. She’ll think it’s odd I’m going out so late.” He paused. “Let’s say one.”
It was just past midnight and I was only ten minutes away. I’d have plenty of time to hide and watch his arrival from safety. If he didn’t come alone, or if it looked like an ambush, I could take off.
“It’ll be close, but I should be able to make it by one.” I hung up.
The lights were off at the ballpark. An empty security car sat at the entrance. I watched the parking lot. Nothing changed. The boredom and accumulated fatigue made it hard to stay awake. I listened to the police scanner, but the traffic about Zingo’s had died down.
I spent a lot of time working out a strategy for dealing with Sinclair. If I was half as transparent as Rod and Bud seemed to think, then coaxing Sinclair into speaking would be difficult. Finally I decided to keep it simple; I’d try not to lie, but when I had to, I’d make it short and direct.
A little before one Sinclair’s Jaguar turned off Chester Avenue and into the parking lot. He drove to the main gate and parked in a handicapped spot. He got out, looked around, started for the gate, stopped, looked around again, and went inside. A few minutes later the security guard walked out the main entrance, got in his car, and drove away. I waited another ten minutes. Nothing changed. No cars arrived. No thugs skulked in the shadows.
I parked the van behind the outfield wall on the third-base side. I switched on the hidden camera and attached the sequined flower to my jacket. It looked out of place on the water-resistant fabric, but I didn’t have a lot of choices. I shook out my hair and decided to keep it down. Maybe if I looked pretty, Sinclair would be distracted and not notice I was lying. This was not my proudest moment.
I got out and I climbed onto the roof of the van. The outfield fence was short, and with the boost from the car I had no trouble hoisting myself over. I dropped onto the dirt at the far end of the field and walked toward the cheap seats. I made my way in darkness to the front of the ballpark, pausing every few yards to watch and listen, but heard nothing. I reached the alley behind the main stands and was relieved to see dim lighting. Not so dark I couldn’t find my way, but not so light I’d be an obvious target. Still, it was creepy. No wind rattled the concession-stand shutters, but in the stillness wispy strands of fog had begun to creep in.
I found a door labeled GENERAL MANAGER and turned the handle.
“There you are.” Sinclair stood up from behind a massive desk at the far end of the room. He wore Dockers and a purple polo shirt. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
The office was not large and reminded me of a galley kitchen. It didn’t help that sports memorabilia filled the room. Some of it was hung and displayed, but most hadn’t been properly unpacked. Half-opened cardboard boxes littered the office floor and the two oversize leather chairs in front of the desk.
“Come in, come in. How do you like my office?”
I stepped fully into the room and shut the door.
An oil painting of an older man hung on the far wall. He wore the same kind of cowboy suit Sinclair had been wearing that morning. I remembered what Bob had told me and guessed the painting was of Jim Ensley, the original owner of the team. His image appeared to be looking down at the latest general manager with an amused smile. I doubted the real man would feel that way had he lived to meet Tom Sinclair.
“I’m still unpacking. But my new desk is a big improvement. An important man should have an important desk.”
I nodded.
“I’m so relieved you came.” Sinclair started to come toward me, but had to pause and squeeze his body between the edge of the desk and a wall. “I know the two of us will sort this mess out like friends without Leland setting his usual bad tone.” As he emerged from the tight space, his shoulder brushed against the wall and knocked down a framed program. He bent over to pick it up.
“How much is Warner already involved?” I angled myself so the brooch would have a clear shot of his response. “Did he order those two police officers to beat me up this morning?”
Sinclair stood back up with the frame. “I don’t know the particulars. He said he was going to send someone to take care of things.” He paused. “I understand how terrified you must be of Leland, but I promise to protect you.”
“Why would you need to protect me?” My voice rose. “You didn’t tell anyone else about this meeting, did you?”
“Only my wife, but you can trust her.”
“You mean Leland Warner’s daughter?”
“She’s my wife first.” He turned and replaced the frame on its hook. “Anyway, given the danger that tape puts her in, she’s naturally anxious about our meeting.”
The tape was a danger to her? I flashed back to the crime scene. There’d been police officers, coroners, photographers, but no heiresses.
I straightened and centered my body so the brooch had a perfect view. “Did she kill Val Boyle?”
“Of course not. He was dead when we got there.”
Had he really just admitted to being at the crime scene?
“I believe you.” I tried to sound reassuring and friendly. “But I’m confused about the timeline.”
He must have sensed my insincerity because he looked up and stared at me. I didn’t know what to do. My hand instinctively pushed a strand of hair away from my face.
He smiled. “I love your hair down.” His creepy eyes ran up and down my body. “You should wear it like that all the time. You’re such a pretty girl.”
I knew what I had to do. I needed to play up to him in some awful and flirty way. I needed to ignore the bile rising in the back of my throat. I needed to do it because it was the safest way to get what I wanted. I needed to do it because I would be better off in the long run.
I looked up at the ceiling and mumbled some swearwords under my breath.
His smile faded. “Excuse me?”
“Okay, here’s how this is going to go.” I spoke decisively and without any of the fake affability I’d tried before. “I’ve had a bad day. I got very little sleep last night. I was humiliated in front of my coworkers. My home was broken into, my privacy invaded. I was threatened and beaten up by dirty cops. Then I was beaten up again later, by a gang.” I crossed the room to where a bat in a glass case sat on the floor. I removed the bat. “My reward for all that? My boss fired me and tried to have me arrested. My friend, who I thought would help, turned me in to the cops. Then someone I thought was a jerk turned out to be a great guy. Only wait …here it comes …I was right the first time, he’s a jerk and also turned me in to the cops.” I swung the bat and tested the weight. “Oh, hey, did I mention my uncle’s been arrested?”
Sinclair eyed the bat uneasily. “That’s terrible.”
“Yes, it is terrible, and that’s why I have absolutely no patience left.”
He shook his head. “I don’t follow.”
I raised and lowered the bat into the open palm of my free hand. “If you don’t tell me exactly
what I want to know, I’m going to start smashing things in this room.” I smiled. “And, Tom, your kneecaps are in this room.”
“Lilly, you don’t—”
I slammed the bat into a framed baseball card on the wall. The glass smashed. Sinclair cried out and squeezed behind his desk.
“I know you helped Jason steal the almonds. I want the whole story in your own words.”
“How did you—”
I turned, raised the bat over my head, and brought it down on his computer.
“I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you,” he screamed. “Please don’t hurt me.”
I pulled back. “Start talking. From the beginning.”
“Mary has a prenup, and if I divorce her, Leland will blackball me. I’ll be unemployable for the rest of my life.”
I rolled my eyes. “You want out and decided to rob your father-in-law to pay for it.”
He threw his palms flat on the desk and leaned forward. “You don’t know what it’s like. I’m practically a prisoner. Mary won’t even let me go out at night because of what happened with Gladys.”
I did not want to know about Gladys. Gladys was not going to get me out of trouble. Gladys was not going to get Sinclair arrested, unless she was underage, which I doubted.
Sinclair pulled back and clenched his fist. “You should have seen the uproar over that. Leland was brutal. I’d always thought he was a monster, but I had no idea how bad it could get. And him with an army of floozies over the years. And Gladys wasn’t a floozy. She had a very respectable job as a waitress.”
Not underage, then. I smashed the bat into another frame on the wall. “You were telling me about almonds.”
Sinclair jumped. “I had information, but I couldn’t act on it myself.”
“You got the Eastside Crew to do it for you.”
Sinclair nodded. “Yes. Jason agreed to take the job if I told him exactly where to find the loaded trucks and on which nights.”
“How was Val involved?”
“My buyer insisted the almonds be delivered to the port in Long Beach so he could ship them to Japan. That meant the driver needed a commercial driver’s license to get through security, and none of Jason’s men could pass the background check.”
A Bad Day’s Work Page 20