Just Evil

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Just Evil Page 36

by Vickie McKeehan


  “And the son, this Noah Parker, would have every reason to go after Alana and Jessica now like a revenge factor,” Dylan surmised, as he scarfed down every crumb of the chocolate cake on his plate.

  “But why wait almost forty years to make his move?” Baylee asked. As she scooped up Sarah out of her infant carrier, she noticed Dylan get seconds of the cake she’d baked. Pleased, she grinned before making her point. “He’d have to be in his sixties by now, wouldn’t he?”

  “Good point, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less pissed off his parents were murdered for their money,” Dylan said, as he licked fudge frosting from his fingers.

  “And I thought it was for the land,” Kit said.

  “Probably both. Like you said before, they were sitting on prime real estate worth millions.” Jake turned to Reese. “What exactly happened to the ranch after they died?”

  “After you called this afternoon I did some checking. That land used to be horse and cattle country. The ranch was sold to a developer named, Robert Carlton, four months after they died.”

  “Wait a minute,” Kit said to Jake. “Alana was married to a Robert Carlton?”

  Jake shuffled some papers around. “Husband number two. Son of a bitch.”

  “Guess who handled the sale?” Reese looked around the table.

  But it was Gloria who answered a little sheepishly. “Alana. It was her first sale as a realtor. And before you ask, I don’t know everything Alana and Jessica were up to in those days other than they were almost inseparable back then. I was ten years younger and had my own circle of friends. I didn’t start hanging around Alana until much later, a couple of years before Kit was born.”

  “But you knew she was married to Frank Geller and this Carlton?”

  Gloria nodded. “But her marriages never lasted for long.”

  “But Carlton turned the property into a strip shopping center. It’s abandoned now, like a ghost town.”

  “Didn’t they find Eva Gatz’s body somewhere in the Hollywood Hills at an abandoned strip mall?” Kit asked.

  “They did. So wouldn’t it stand to reason, someone’s figured out who killed the Parkers and wants justice forty years after the fact. If we go by Kit’s dream that leads right to Alana and Jessica.”

  “We’ve got smart people in this room. We need to come up with facts and fast.”

  “Before St. John gets an itchy trigger finger and arrests me,” Kit added with a grin.

  “Here’s the newspaper article,” Jake offered as he passed around copies to everyone.

  When Dylan read the article, he turned to Kit. “I can’t believe your dream was so on target. I have to admit when I heard about it, I thought you were nuts.”

  “Me too,” Kit agreed. “Jake’s the one who made the connection to the Manson murders. If it hadn’t been for that I’d have never come up with the right time frame.”

  “And just so I’m clear,” Reese asked, wondering if he was stirring up the masses even more. “You think Alana and Jessica killed the Parkers for the money they got in the lawsuit. Jessica plans to find the body, gives the interview to the paper, and then steps into a goldmine when she’s conveniently named executor of the Parker estate. I checked the probate records, it’s true. No pesky son in the picture to show up and want his share of the inheritance. That’s a nice tight scenario and might explain a few things.”

  Jake frowned, picking up on Reese’s undertone. “You want to share?”

  “Over the years there’ve been rumors that BBG&G isn’t exactly on the up and up. I didn’t put much stock in the rumors until now… But after reading this article, after learning Jessica found the bodies…after going through old probate files this afternoon and finding out there was a change to the Parker will after the son reportedly went MIA. With no other relatives, Jessica saw an opportunity, a big one.”

  Up to now, Jake had been busy organizing the box of stuff from the trunk of his car so they could go through everything. But now, he stopped, stared at Reese with furious eyes. “What are you talking about? What rumors?”

  Reese sighed. “There’s been talk among lawyers, common knowledge really. Some people believe that if BBG&G doesn’t have the documentation to prove a case in court, they somehow manage to get it.”

  When Jake didn’t seem to understand the implication, and no one else in the room did either, Reese said flatly, “Manufacture the evidence, guys. They have a history of surprising the other side in court with nice tidy little packages of evidence that wasn’t listed during the discovery phase, in other words, they’re more than a little lax about complying with discovery. After searching details about the Parker case this afternoon, it sounds like there may be something to the rumors.”

  With her hands in her jeans pockets, an outraged Quinn who’d traded part of her shift to be here and had let herself in, stood in the doorway of the dining room. “But that’s outrageous. People knew this and let them get away with it. That’s against the law. They get fined for not complying, right?”

  Reese looked up, surprised at the little jolt of lust he got in his gut just looking at her. “Sanctions are at the discretion of the court, more accurately the judge. It’s common knowledge BBG&G has a lot of political influence in this state. And all of the partners wield a considerable hold over some of the state’s most influential judges, or at least they did.”

  Jake hissed out a breath. “You know I’m getting tired of hearing that as an excuse to let these guys get away with crap like that, like they did with Kit’s adoption.”

  Reese agreed. “Exactly. But a long ago adoption is the least of our worries. If we can prove this, if the murders happened like we think, if all this comes to light, how they won the court case, it would ruin the firm’s reputation. We’re talking about ruining a legal empire here, guys. We can’t go off half-cocked.”

  Jake fumed. “You knew about these rumors and never said a word these last few weeks knowing how much we didn’t trust these people? And knowing what kind of spot that left Kit in?”

  “Look, rumors are one thing. Proof is something else. At the time I had no idea about the Parkers, okay?”

  “You could have said something.”

  But Kit spoke up. “If I get your drift, you’re saying that the firm has this history of doing shady stuff with evidence they don’t have.”

  “The rumors go back to the beginning, ever since they pulled a last minute victory over McKetrick Construction.”

  “If Jessica changed the Parker will to benefit her, then suppose Alana’s will originally left it all to Jessica, just as we all expected, maybe when Jessica found out Alana had been murdered, she panicked, conveniently changed the will to read everything went to me, benefited me after all, just to solidify a motive for the police. That would certainly take the heat off her or the law firm. But then she gets herself killed, too.”

  “Well, when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.”

  Kit moved closer to Jake, but kept her eyes on Reese. “But that’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? They’ve done stuff like this before, produced forged documents in court that the people didn’t sign, or didn’t know about. Now that whole scenario would make a lot more sense than believing Alana named me the beneficiary.”

  Now, she did turn to Jake. “If Jessica was used to getting away with it, why not do it now when everything, so to speak, was on the line. They couldn’t have the police looking into Alana’s murder, learning Jessica was the beneficiary all along and then stumbling across a forty year old murder where she was also named the Parker trustee over millions.”

  Jake lifted her chin. “Is this intuition or speculation, Kit?”

  “A little of both. Something just doesn’t feel right about that will.”

  Reese sensed he needed to be the voice of reason here before the crowd got carried away. “Not provable, guys. If the documents are there to back up the will, there’s no proof Alana left her estate to Jessica.” Looking directly at Jake, he continued,
“That’s why I hesitated mentioning any of this. Without proof it’s just bull—it’s conjecture. Maybe just angry litigants who feel they were ambushed in court without proper discovery, nothing more.”

  But Baylee spoke up, “But according to Gloria, that’s what they did to get Kit, isn’t it? They wanted custody and produced whatever documentation they needed in court.” And if Jessica did it once and got away with it, she’d have taught her sons well and they could do it again. “You’re saying if all the paperwork is in order, the court goes along with whatever the piece of paper says that makes it all legal.”

  Baylee cringed. She needed to take Sarah and run, get as far away from L.A. as she could.

  During the discussion, Kit had moved to the box of stuff on the table. Now she was bent over the open mobile safe examining the gun. Out of the blue, she said, “It’s rather large, isn’t it? The gun.” She turned to face everyone. “You need proof, right? Something concrete that might link Alana to the murders. This gun, it’s the one in my dream. The one used to kill the Parkers, I’m sure of it. Couldn’t we have it tested?”

  Jake got up and went to Kit. “That’s why it was locked up, hidden away. Alana could have thrown it away, gotten rid of it, but she kept it around all this time hidden in the attic. This has to be what they’ve been looking for.”

  “I knew it. I just knew it was the gun,” Dylan stated, as he leaned over the box, inspecting the weapon and got into the spirit of the game. “Could be she locked the gun away and forgot about it, forgot where she hid the safe. We did find it in a box labeled books. Then again, she could have kept it around for a little additional insurance, blackmail maybe in case Jessica ever got the urge to make a point.”

  Grabbing a tablet and pen off the buffet, Quinn sat down at the table. “We need to make a timeline, something to connect the dots. We need to go through all this stuff you found, piece by piece, get it organized. If it’s solid enough, we could take it to Holloway.”

  “Now we’re talking,” Jake said. But when he noticed the dubious look on Reese’s face, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Jake, this is nuts. None of this constitutes proof of anything. It’s speculation, nothing more.”

  “That’s why we need to connect the dots. Look, I know it’s far-fetched, but it’s a start. Let me ask you something, can you guarantee me that St. John won’t prematurely arrest Kit tomorrow?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Then sit down, grab a handful of those papers out of the box, and shut the fuck up.”

  A couple of hours later, they’d gone through the entire box. With Quinn keeping track of each document, acting as gatekeeper, they’d made an inventory list of Alana’s activities and dates that covered two years prior to the Parker murders and five years after.

  They knew, for example, that Alana had married Will Forrester in 1967, an engineer employed by McKetrick Construction, a company involved in a major lawsuit brought by the Parkers, and that Jessica Boyd, Alana’s best friend had represented the Parkers from day one.

  The copies of the cashier’s checks showed Alana had received $500,000 over a period of twenty months starting six months after their court victory on December 20, 1967, and ending August 20, 1969, five days after the Parkers had been found dead. And Reese found documents confirming that Alana had brokered the Parker real estate deal with her future husband Robert Carlton as the buyer.

  Looking around the room, an invigorated Kit announced, “I’d say we’re on to something.”

  But it was Jake who opened his cell phone, dialed Jordan Donovan, himself and told him, “When you interview Will Forrester, I want to be there.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Jake wasn’t about to leave Kit alone no matter how many protests she made about having a babysitter. But when it came time to talk to Will Forrester, the former McKetrick engineer, he’d made up his mind. At nine o’clock Sunday morning, he dumped Kit at Gloria’s guest cottage into Baylee’s waiting arms under the guise that Baylee needed help with a fussy Sarah. It had been a weak excuse, one he might have to pay for later, but she’d gone along without complaint. In the meantime, he headed to Van Nuys where Forrester had agreed to meet him and Jordan Donovan at a coffee shop on Sepulveda.

  When he got there Jordan, a big man at least six-four and a former cop in his late thirties, was already deep in conversation with a slightly built, balding man in his early sixties, sitting at a booth in the back.

  At the mention of Alana it didn’t take much prompting for the man to start talking.

  “She was a secretary in another division of McKetrick. New at her job, and not very good at it from what people said. But Christ, she was a looker. I mean gorgeous from head to toe. When she approached me, I thought it was some kind of a joke. The first night we went out, we ended up in bed. She was...incredible.” He looked a little embarrassed. “Four weeks later we were married. I know I was stupid. Even after all these years, it pisses me off that she played me like a drum. I mean, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Immediately after the Parker trial ended, she quits her job, runs off to Reno. I get divorce papers within the week from Jessica Boyd.”

  “What exactly was your role in the trial?” Jake asked.

  “I was subpoenaed to be a witness for the Parkers. I figured Alana had something to do with that, too. She knew I dealt with the toxin reports that I knew which carcinogens were in the waste. I had nothing to do with the actual dumping, mind you, but I knew we were getting rid of some very toxic chemicals like pentaerythritol found in surface coatings, and hexamethylene tetramine found in phenol-formaldehyde resins. After Parker filed suit, management told me to shred all the toxin reports related to the dump sites. I did what I was told.”

  Jake exchanged looks with Jordan, before he asked, “Did Alana know the documents were gone?”

  Forrester nodded.

  But it was Jake who asked, “Then there were no documents lying around proving McKetrick dumped anything toxic on Parker’s land.”

  “Exactly. But then one afternoon a copy of a report showed up on my desk I knew for certain I’d destroyed. That’s when the phone calls started coming in the middle of the night, telling me I’d better come clean. I knew those chemicals were highly toxic to animals and humans. I knew McKetrick had a habit of dumping the stuff in rural areas. I felt guilty about that. So when they subpoenaed me, I testified for the other side. Imagine my surprise when more documents showed up at trial, documents that looked real enough but ones I knew I’d shredded. When I testified under oath, I’d shredded certain reports myself at the direction of management, the next thing I knew, McKetrick’s lawyers asked for a recess and settled out of court.

  “But I didn’t put it all together, didn’t suspect a thing until after Alana left the company, and disappeared. By then of course, the trial was over, the Parkers had won their lawsuit, the lawyers got their cut, and I was divorced and out of a job. The lawsuit bankrupted McKetrick. What was I going to do about it then, admit to the world that I’d been maneuvered by a gorgeous blonde who didn’t give a shit about me?”

  “So you never told anyone, no one ever asked you about this until now?”

  “I never talked about it with a living soul until today.”

  “Did you know the Parkers personally?”

  “No. But after the trial Jessica ended up as the trustee of their estate. I read it in the paper. After the Parkers died I wondered what happened to all that money.”

  Later when Jake relayed the story to Kit while she rolled out pastry dough, in preparation of going back to work come Monday, in typical Kit-fashion, her sympathy was with Will Forrester. “Poor man. I bet he was in love with her.”

  “Well, he got over it pretty quick after she dumped him without a backward glance. I got the impression that until the day he dies, he won’t be thinking kind thoughts about Alana.”

  “So this proves the half a million was payout for her role in the whole charade?”

  “Not acc
ording to Reese. Just because Will’s story is a sad tale it isn’t proof Alana and Jessica killed the Parkers. But layer by layer we’re working on building all the evidence we need to make a case before going to the cops. And we’ve got the gun. Jordan is contacting the sheriff’s office to see if he can rattle someone’s cage over there.”

  “To someone like Alana and Jessica, millions of dollars would be a tempting motive for murder. Think about it, they see the Parkers as old, and bless their hearts they’d just gotten word their only son was missing in Vietnam. Alana and Jessica view them as vulnerable, heartbroken, pathetic. My God, to Alana and Jessica they must have seemed like sitting ducks.” As Kit opened the oven door, she added matter-of-factly, “But what we need is something solid, something irrefutable.”

  At six o’clock the next morning, Jake packaged up the dozens of individual spinach and asparagus quiche tarts Kit had baked the night before while she worked on getting the chocolate chip muffins bagged to transport to the car.

  When they opened the front door of the house to carry out the first load of food, they saw the hordes of people loitering at the end of the driveway. And they all seemed to have either a camera or a microphone clutched in their hands. It quickly became apparent that word had finally reached the media that Kit might soon be arrested for the murder of Alana.

  The minute the reporters spotted Jake and Kit trying to make their way to the car, they came alive, hurling questions and accusations at them both in rapid-fire succession. Not all of the questions were about Alana’s murder. A few of them had done their homework and uncovered all the gory details about Claire Boston’s murder as well, which made Jake and Kit an odd and interesting couple on the morning news. All the way to the Book & Bean, the press hounded them. The siege from the media made the ten minute trip take twice as long.

  Even though they parked behind the store, the minute they started unloading the car, an on-air personality with a camera crew in tow, surrounded them and began firing questions. But Jake and Kit refused to take the bait, refusing comment.

 

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