“I'm through talking. Unless you guys have a search warrant, get the freck out of my house. I'll be talking to my attorney about this matter. Get out!”
“Calm down.”
“I said get out. You know the way to the door.”
Chapter Thirty Two
“Danny, what's up? Can you talk?” Valerie inquired. “The cops just left here, asking me about Charles' insurance policy. And they wanted to know about you. I told them you were my brother and you lived in Tucson.”
“Why were they asking about me?” a shocked Danny said, surprised by the whole thing. “You didn't tell them anything, did you?”
“There's nothing to tell, Danny. Is there?”
“No, no. What are you talking about?”
“I know you were in San Diego last week. Ma told me you came in town for some convention. I didn't tell the cops. I said I hadn't seen you in over a year.”
“Good, good.”
“Danny, what's going on?”
“Nothing, nothing. Don't worry about it.”
“Okay, just wanted you to know. I'll talk to you later.”
Danny hung up somewhat concerned about what he had just heard. “I better call Grouch, let him know.”
He knew his step-father would be upset about him calling him on the ship, but he needed to let him know what was going on. “Grouch? It's Danny, sorry about calling you on the ship, but you need to hear this.”
“Okay, I understand, what's up Danny?”
“Valerie, just called me, the cops just left the house, asking a bunch of questions about me and her insurance policy on Charles.”
“Veronica didn't do anything wrong, so what's she worried about?”
“Well, she lied to them about knowing I was in town last week.”
“You didn't talk to her when you were in San Diego, did you? Think, the cops are obviously tracking your phone calls.”
“No, no, I don't think so. They know about my criminal record. You know how cops are. Now the spotlight is on me.”
“You didn't do anything wrong, did you?”
“No, not a thing. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. Nothing they can prove at any rate.”
“So everything is cool. I didn't do anything wrong, you didn't do anything wrong, and Valerie for sure isn't guilty of anything, so everything is cool, right, Danny?”
“Everything is cool, Grouch. Okay, sorry to bother you. Holler at you later.”
Michael hung up the phone, stared at a medical record he had been auditing for a few minutes, and went to the officer's mess to grab a cup of coffee. The mess was empty so he sat in a corner with his thoughts of home. He had never felt so alone and venerable, an unexplainable sadness washed over him, and plunged him into deep despair. “I hope I did the right thing, but even if it was wrong, I did it for the right reasons. One thing is for sure, I can't unring that bell.” Michael took another sip of coffee, stared out the porthole at the endless blue sea.
Chapter Thirty Three
A Mariachi band played, margaritas flowed, a couple in close embrace on the dance floor moved rhythmically to the Mexican beat. The lights were low, their spirits were high, as they danced seemingly without a care in the world. Joe and Lola, smiled at one another, secure in the knowledge that their diabolical plan had come to fruition and they were now triumphantly enjoying the fruits of their labor. It was a shame Charles was dead, but the cops had bought their cover story, life was good.
“Are you sure we're not going to be able to get our hands on the money Charles had in his bank account?” Lola asked, uncharacteristically from the setting and the mood the room manifested.
“Can't we talk about something, besides the money? Is that all you care about?”
“No, of course not Joe. I just asked. You know I love you.” She gave him a tender kiss on his cheek.
“Yeah, it seems you love the money more.”
“That's not true. How could you say that?”
“And to answer your question. No, we can't get the money in the bank, it belonged to Charles. I never could talk him into leaving me the money in his will. He left it all to Muffin. So you might as well stop thinking about that money. All right.”
“Okay, baby. I won't mention it again. Let's not fight.” Lola hugged Joe tighter as they danced, a far away look in her eyes. “I'm tired of dancing, let's just go up to our room.”
Grabbing Joe by the hand, she lead him over to the elevator and up to their room. It was a beautiful room with a mini bar, a kitchenette, and a hot tub in the bathroom. Just the type of place a happy couple, who recently came into some cash, would stay while holidaying in the Mexican Riviera.
“Would you like a drink?” Lola said reaching into the mini bar. “I feel like a nightcap, how about you Joe?”
“Yeah, sounds good. I'll have a gin and O.J.,” Joe said taking off his jacket and hanging it up in the closet. “Be back in a minute, gotta pee.”
Lola dropped three cubes of ice in a hotel glass, she glanced over her shoulder to make sure Joe was safely inside the restroom. She reached in her purse, searched for a moment, then pulled out a bottle of a white powdery substance. She checked one more time to make sure the coast was clear, then sprinkled a liberal amount of the powder over the ice cubes, poured in a generous amount of gin and topped off the cocktail with a splash of orange juice.
Just as she was finishing, she heard Joe in the restroom washing his hands. “Your drink is ready,” Lola said as much to herself as to Joe. She smiled sadistically. “I'm sure you're gonna like it.”
Joe came out of the restroom drying his hands. “Thanks babe,” Joe said, as she handed him the glass, taking a sip. “Um, thanks that's perfect.”
Lola raised her glass. “A toast. To us, and all the fun we're gonna have spending poor Charles' money.”
“I'll drink to that,” Joe beamed, taking a long drink of his cocktail.
“Joe, I was thinking. Where do you want to go next. I hear Aruba is nice, I've never been.”
“Aruba? Okay, why not.” Joe said, but just as he did the room started to spin around. “Whoa, that drink was stronger than I thought.” He took two steps towards the chair, dropped his glass, and fell to the floor.
“Aruba, yeah I've heard it's nice,” Lola put down her drink, reached in her purse and pulled out her cell, flipped it open and hit speed dial. “Pete? It's Lola.”
Chapter Thirty Four
“Now remember what we talked about. Did you bring the bleach?”
Lola dug in her huge Gucci bag and retrieved a small container . “Yes, I have it .”
“And the gloves?”
She reached in and pulled out a pair of blue rubber gloves. “Yes, I have them.”
“First put on your gloves. Then wash the glasses thoroughly with soapy water and bleach. Wipe them with a towel and place them by the sink. Any glass surfaces, wipe as best as you can as well as the door knobs.”
“Okay, I will Pete.” Lola took the glasses her and Joe were drinking out of over to the sink and began to sanitize them.
“You did use a phony name when you checked in, right?”
“Yes, I talked Joe into using a false name. He didn't need much persuading.”
“Good. Good. When you've finished, wipe all the horizontal surfaces. It's a hotel, there are thousands of fingerprints, but I like to be thorough. Then leave by the back way. Don't go by checkout. Got it?”
“I understand.”
“Me and my crew have already cleaned out your place in La Jolla, don't go back there. Grab a plane to LAX. Call me when you get there.”
“Okay. See you soon, baby.”
“Yeah, in the meantime, I have other work to do.”
Lola, finished washing the glasses, wiped down as best as she could. She felt a tinge of guilt as she stepped around Joe's lifeless body, and eased the hotel door open. She peered out in the hallway. It was quiet and empty so she cautiously opened the door the whole way and left, taking one last look a
t Joe before she closed and locked the door.
Catching a cab to the airport, she bought a one way ticket, cash of course. As she waited for her flight, she was alone with her thoughts. Maybe she should just stay in Mexico, go home and live with her mother in Tijuana. The deed was done now, but she wasn't so sure she entirely trusted Pete. He was called the evil brother. Joe used to jokingly call him that all the time. Little did he know. But she seemed inexplicably under Pete's control, like she was powerless against his powerful will.
Her flight finally arrived and she boarded the small jet plane to LAX.
Chapter Thirty Five
The school yard was quiet, as of yet the students had not been released from their classrooms. A black SUV eased slowly through the parking lot like the occupants were looking for something or someone. The vehicle circled around and pulled into a parking spot. It was quarter of two in the afternoon, fifteen minutes to wait before the class bells rang one last time for the day.
Muffin was in math class, watching the clock and waiting for the two o'clock bell to ring so she could go home. She thought about her black toy poodle, Happy, who'd be in her Grandma's car when she came to pick her up. He'd be so happy to see her, licking her face and jumping up and down. He was so cute. She looked at the clock on the wall one more time and saw it was one- fifty- five, five more minutes.
Outside the two men in the black SUV checked their watches as well, five more minutes. One of the men nervously smoked a cigarette, thumping ashes on the school parking lot. They looked again at two pictures of the child they had been given, there would be no mistake.
Finally the bell rang and the students started to trickle out at first and then they began to pour out of every door, talking, laughing, running and playing like children do when they've been let out of a confined space they'd been imprisoned in for several hours. The men in the black vehicle searched the throng of children, desperately looking for the right one. “There she is, I'm certain,” one man said, flicking his cigarette out on the pavement.”
“You know what to do,” the other man said, starting up the vehicle.
Muffin was walking and laughing, talking to her best friend, a little chunky big head girl, looking for her Grandma's Cadillac SRX. She didn't notice the black vehicle and the two men that were watching her. Her friend saw her mom's car and said goodbye, got in the car and they drove away.
Out of nowhere a man dressed in black, hood pulled over his head and wearing dark sunglasses grabbed Muffin. She tried to scream but a gloved hand over her mouth prevented her from making a sound. The man threw her in the vehicle that was waiting, jumped in, and they eased into the flow of traffic unnoticed.
Arriving a little late, Grandma pulled up to the curb in front of the parking lot of the school as was her habit. She turned off the engine of her car and waited for Muffin to arrive. Happy barked at the school children, jumping up and down in anticipation of her little friend's arrival. Mary waited, but still no Muffin. At first she wasn't too concerned, her grandchild sometimes came out a little late. She waited, still no Muffin.
Starting to get worried after she looked at the clock in the car and it was two-thirty, she called her grand daughter's cell phone, no answer. Then she became frantic. “Where in the world is Muffin,” Mary said to the dog, who looked at her like he was wondering where she was himself.
She jumped out of her car and crossed the school parking lot that was by then almost empty. Only a few students remained, milling around the school, talking and waiting on their rides. Mary entered the building, went down the hall to the principal's office. “I'm Mary Parson, Brittany Smithson's grandmother. Is she being detained for some reason?”
The lady behind the counter, looked somewhat taken aback by Monica's question replied, “No, no ma'am, there are no children being detained, what do you mean?”
“I came to pick her up, and she never showed up.”
About that time Mary's cell phone sounded, a jazz number she used as a ring tone.
“Ma, ma! Where are you?” an excited Valerie yelled on the other end of the phone.
“I'm at the school, trying to find Muffin. She never came out.”
Oh, my God! Oh my God! It's true!”
“What, what are you talking about, Valerie?”
“I didn't want to believe it. I thought it was a terrible prank.”
“What's going on? You're scaring me.”
“I just got a call. I couldn't tell who it was, the voice was distorted. Muffin's been kidnapped. The man said to wire $500,000 to an account or they'll kill her. Oh my God, what am I going to do, ma?”
“ Oh my Lord!” Mary sat down on a nearby chair, shaking, almost in tears. She thought for a moment and regained her composure. “ Where are you now, Valerie?”
“I'm still at work. I can't drive. I can't think, what am I gonna do?”
“Have you called the police?
“They said no cops, or they'll kill her.”
“You stay where you are. I'm on my way. We'll talk about that when I see you, okay?”
Mary bolted out of the school office, ran to her car and screeched out of the parking lot heading downtown.
Chapter Thirty Six
Chuck and Carson sat at their usual seats in the office doing what they normally did when they were at a dead end on a case. Carson tossed crumpled up paper at a nearby waste basket, Chuck was playing solitaire on his computer. They weren't aware of the fire storm that was heading their way. “So who is left on the list to interview, Chuck?” Carson grumbled, tossing another crumpled piece of paper, missing once again. “This crap is getting us no where.”
“You're right Carson,” Chuck sighed and continue his game. “Seems like we're no closer to finding our killer than when we first started. The whole group of them seem guilty. This guy had too many enemies. How about the brother, Danny?”
Carson tossed another crumpled piece of paper, stopped and thought for a second. “Yeah, he seems as guilty as the rest of them. Check him out. See who he's been calling and track his credit cards and bank account for the last month. See what comes up.”
“Will do.”
A phone call suddenly broke the detective's concentration. Carson looked at Chuck, Chuck looked back, but finally relented and answered. “Detective Brown, may I help you? What, now calm down Mrs. Parson. Are you sure? Okay, okay. You and Valerie sit tight. We'll be over in a few. Calm down, we'll find her.”
Carson looked at his partner strangely. He saw the panicked look on Chuck's face and knew it must not be good news. “What the heck was that all about?”
Chuck took a deep breath, not knowing where to start. “You're not going to believe this. Valerie Smithson's daughter, Brittany, has been kidnapped. The grandmother said she went to her school to pick her up and she never showed up. Then Valerie called and said a man had called her saying the child was kidnapped and demanding $500,000 for her release.”
“Joe Smithson, the deceased's brother. Got to be him,” Carson yelled.
“We better get going, they seemed pretty upset.”
“Okay, let's roll, you drive.”
“Really. Thanks.”
When they arrived at the house, the scene was chaotic to say the least. Valerie was crying and so was the grandmother. The dog was barking and every phone in the house was ringing. “They said no cops, or they'd kill her. They want $500,000. It has to be someone who knew about the insurance money. What are we going to do?”
“Everyone, just calm down. Let's go in the den, have a seat. Calm down now.” Chuck all but begged the duo of crying ladies to come with him.
Everyone seated at last and the scene somewhat calmer, Chuck started, “ Now tell us what happened, from the beginning.”
Valerie was still too upset to talk, so her mother explained to the detectives what exactly had happened. “You've got to get her back,” she said through tears, still holding Valerie in her arm's like a small child.
“We'll get her back, ma
'am,” Chuck said trying to console her. “Now, Valerie. I need you to calm down for just a minute. This is very important. Did you recognize the voice on the phone? Did they sound familiar at all?”
Valerie sat up, wiped the tears from her eyes, and tried to clear her head. “ Like I said, the voice was distorted, they sounded like a robot or something. No, I didn't recognize the voice, no. I wish I did, but I couldn't tell. I'm sorry.”
“What did they say exactly?” Carson asked.
“They said they had my little girl and if I ever wanted to see her again, I would do as they said. They said I was to wire a half million dollars to an account number. They gave me the number and they also said no cops, or she dies. Then the man hung up.”
“Typical, kidnap stuff. Sounds like a script from a bad T.V. show. Complete with the don't call the cops line.” Carson said. “Like you said, had to be someone who knew about the insurance money. What about your brother-in-law Joe? Do you think he might do something like this? Also had to be an individual who knew where your daughter went to school and what time she got out.”
“Joe? He wouldn't do this. He loves Muffin. He wouldn't hurt her,” Valerie said sniffing and shaking her head.
“Ma'am this may come as a big shock to you, but your late husband was loaded. In the course of our investigation we uncovered an elaborate plot to dupe the deceased out his money. A plot cooked up by your brother-in-law and his girl friend Lola. Your late husband thought she was his girl, but turns out she was in on a scheme to rob him. A plan devised and carried out by Joe and Lola and coming to fruition upon the death of the pawn in their game.” Chuck said, getting a little irate.
Valerie and her mom, sat silent, not believing the whole story that they had just heard.
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