Too Many Crooks Spoil the Plot

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Too Many Crooks Spoil the Plot Page 11

by Sarah Osborne


  “This’ll be handy,” I said, pointing to the washer and dryer. “We’ll be happy to do your wash as well.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got that covered. You probably won’t see much of me. I usually get in pretty late. Only thing I ask is for quiet in the morning, so I can sleep in if I want. You think that’s possible?”

  “We’ll make it work, I promise. I really appreciate this.” If he were anyone else, I would have given him a hug. But Tommy always got stiff as a board when I tried to hug or kiss him. Jason saved us from an awkward moment.

  “There you are, Mr. Tommy,” Jason said. “You want to see my bad guys? Spider-Man just killed this one.”

  Tommy actually knelt down beside Jason and took the mangled form of what looked like a half man, half monster. “I know this guy,” he said to Jason. “Good job. I used to work with a guy like this.”

  Jason didn’t get the joke, but he did get the smile. “I protect Aunt Di and Lucie and I can protect you too, Mr. Tommy.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Just call me Tommy.” He glanced at his watch and stood up. “Now I’ve got to get to work. Can we get the excess baggage out of here before I leave?”

  “You mean Dan?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tommy gave me a set of keys and left without another word. Dan wasn’t pleased when I told him he couldn’t spend the day in the apartment with the kids.

  “I mean no disrespect, Dr. Brown,” he said, “but how does your brother expect me to protect the children if I’m not in the apartment to do it?”

  “My brother is a little paranoid about his privacy. I’ll work on him. In the meantime, could you stay in the lobby, see who’s coming and going, check in with Lurleen from time to time?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Dan said, but I could see his jaw working overtime.

  We discussed whether or not it would be safe to take the kids out to lunch. They’d go stir-crazy if they didn’t get out, and Dan knew just the place. Johnny Rockets in the food court at Lenox Square. He assured me he could keep them safe and that it was better for the kids to be with him than out of his sight. Lurleen could act as another set of eyes, something she was eager to do.

  We came down to the lobby together where we talked with Oscar, the concierge on the day shift. I explained that the kids needed a safe place to stay for a few days due to problems with an ex-husband. Dan was there to help if anyone strange turned up looking for them or me.

  Oscar seemed to take all this in stride. “Mr. Brown spoke with me about you. If there is anything you need, please let me know.” He called to get my car brought up from the garage.

  I got to work on time and delivered some of the bran muffins to the break room. They were gone in ten minutes. The morning was as busy as usual. It was supposed to be a catch-up day to complete paperwork and spend some time consulting on projects. Vic worked with medical students and residents interested in international health, and I went where I was needed. Walk-ins showed up as they did every day.

  I did find ten minutes to talk with our social worker. She’d made an unannounced visit to the home of the fifteen-year-old girl I was worried about. The family was living in a one-bedroom apartment with another Nigerian family. The “uncle” was nowhere to be seen, but it was clear that Beza remained frightened of him. The social worker said she’d stay on the case. In the meantime, she’d arranged a follow-up visit to the clinic for the girl. I made sure I was scheduled to work at the time of her visit. The clinic doors closed at noon with a sign saying that anyone needing help that afternoon should go to the hospital ER. It was literally down the street, within walking distance. I left Vic still in her office at twenty to one. She’d be the last to leave and the first person back in the morning.

  Lurleen and I arrived at the restaurant within minutes of one another. “So how did it go this morning with the kids?” I asked.

  “Un morceau de gateau,” she said. “A piece of cake,” she added in case my French was rusty. “They had leftover homework, so we worked on that. You’ll get their current assignments from the school?”

  “I’m headed there next.”

  Marie appeared before we had time to say more. Her smile was nearly as large as Lurleen’s and her hair was a lot bigger. She had the bouffant Buckhead look, tailored suit, very corporate.

  “Shit, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting. Hell of a day. Boss had something up his ass for sure. Anyway, I won’t bore you with that. Let’s get a table and talk.”

  I couldn’t keep from smiling.

  “What? What is it? Is my slip showing? No, I don’t wear a slip.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have known—any friend of Lurleen’s wouldn’t be a typical businesswoman.”

  “You mean my language. Does it offend you? I can clean it up if you like.”

  “Don’t change a thing.”

  Marie spoke with the maître d’ and we got a table in a corner near the kitchen.

  “An undesirable spot,” Marie said, “unless you want to have a private conversation. And this needs to be private. Let’s order before we get into it. I’m starving. Those old farts decided we needed an all-morning meeting to deal with the ‘crisis’ and that I needed to be present for every moment of it. No time for a bagel or even a bathroom break. Men!”

  “Don’t you just love her?” Lurleen said to me.

  “I do,” I said.

  “Look, I’ll calm down after my first glass of wine. Maybe you could rush that to our table,” she said to the waiter. “How ’bout you two?”

  I shook my head. “I have to see school administrators and teachers this afternoon.”

  Lurleen also declined.

  “I’m not always like this. But today I need a break from the big boys. You can bet they’re drinking it up at Bacchanalia. And was I invited to come along? Not that I would have gone. Not after a morning of their raunchy jokes and mass hysteria. Not if it meant missing out on lunch with you two. But they could have asked. I am sick and tired of their damn boys club.”

  The waiter brought Marie her wine. I wondered if she needed something stronger.

  Marie gulped down half the glass and turned to me. “Was it like this for you in medical school? Lurleen told me that was when she met you.”

  “Yep,” I said. “Pretty much.”

  “Let’s order and then talk,” Marie said, downing the last of her wine. “I’m feeling better already.”

  While we waited for our food, Marie started in about Charlie Flack. “I don’t know how much of this you’ve already heard from Detective Garrett, but I do best if I start at the beginning. It turns out your boy Charlie is well known at Sandler’s. He was up and coming for a couple of years as a promising new biochemist—full of bright ideas. Rumor has it he started the ball rolling on our current new product. Then he screwed up bad. Security caught him walking off with a computer full of classified data. What kind of idiot would think he could get through security with that? He swore someone planted the data on his computer. They didn’t prosecute, didn’t want the publicity, but he was out the door. He spent the next few years somewhere else and then tried to weasel his way back in a few months ago.”

  Lurleen finished slathering a baguette with butter and pointed it at Marie. “How did Ellie get her job in the new products division? It’s the last place a new person would be assigned.”

  “Good question. And the answer is . . .”

  “Billy Joe,” Lurleen said. She took a large bite of the baguette.

  “I thought Billy Joe was on the outs at Sandler’s,” I said.

  “He was always getting into trouble, if that’s what you mean. And he had no hope of becoming head of the whole operation,” Marie said. “He burned that bridge a long time ago, but he was family. And Mr. Sandler is all about family. So if Billy Joe recommended som
ebody as a good hire, that person would come on board. With the exception of Charlie Flack. Even Billy Joe couldn’t get him rehired.”

  “So what was Ellie supposed to do?” I asked.

  “I think she was supposed to put in a good word for Charlie about how he’d reformed or been framed. After all, he was her ex-boyfriend. She charmed the bigwigs—the men, that is. The wives hated her. When she wasn’t successful in getting him reinstated, I think she was supposed to snoop around on her own.”

  At that moment our entrees arrived. A salmon salad for Lurleen. Quiche and fruit for Marie. And a croque monsieur with a double layer of cheese for me. No point in dieting when you go to the best French restaurant in town. We sat for a few minutes in blissful silence enjoying our food.

  “You were saying Ellie was supposed to snoop around on her own?” I asked.

  Marie nodded at the waiter and ordered a second glass of wine. “She’d turn up in places she didn’t belong. She’d be flirting with someone in the new products lab instead of staying at her desk to answer phone calls. That’s what eventually got her fired. There was a crisis about a breach in security regarding our newest product and Mr. Sandler was suspicious that Eleanor might be involved.” Marie stopped to take another bite of her salmon and another gulp of wine. “This was a couple of months ago. Mr. Sandler Senior wanted to keep the problem in house—didn’t want the press to get wind of the product or the breach—but someone contacted the Cyber Crime Unit.”

  “Do you know who did that?” Lurleen asked. “Who would have the nerve to go over Sandler’s head?”

  “I can think of only one person—Kathleen Sandler.”

  “Kathleen is Sandler’s granddaughter,” Lurleen said to me. “She’s as tough as Sandler and she’s next in line to the throne. I wonder that didn’t sour their relationship.”

  “Oh, it did, believe me,” said Marie. “They’ve barely spoken in the last month. I guess you heard Detective Schmidt was killed, a week before Ellie. He was the detective from the Cyber Crimes Unit. That was the end of the investigation. No one knows if his death was related to what he was investigating at Sandler’s or not.”

  “It was related,” Lurleen said. “All of Schmidt’s notes mysteriously disappeared.”

  I gave Lurleen a look, but it was too late. That cat was out of the bag.

  Marie noticed it. “It’s all right,” she said to me. “You can talk to me about the investigation. I’m a one-way drop box. Things come in but they don’t go out. Except to you two of course.” She smiled, and for just a moment I felt uneasy. Marie appeared to be the epitome of trustworthy. But she was also the self-confessed secret keeper. She hadn’t gotten where she was today by being completely forthright. I wondered where her true loyalties lay.

  “Back to the new product. It’s going to be a game changer. With all this talk about the evils of sugar and soft drinks, Sandler’s has been searching for a healthier product to shift the brand. It looks like they’ve found it. It’s being market tested in a few weeks. I think Flack, Ellie, and Billy Joe were trying to get their hands on information about it—to sell to a competitor.”

  “Corporate espionage,” I said.

  “Corporate espionage?” Lurleen asked, her eyes aglow.

  “I think so,” Marie said. “Billy Joe always wanted more money than his allowance provided. And he liked to stick it to the big guys.”

  Lurleen turned to me. “Billy Joe’s parents died when he was young. In a plane crash. We all cut him some slack because of that—Mr. Sandler especially.”

  “That’s right. But I think the old man was getting weary of his pranks. And the idea of espionage would have driven him right over the edge—”

  “Company loyalty,” Lurleen and Marie said in unison.

  I turned to both of them. “This all makes sense. When Ellie talked about making it big, buying a house in Buckhead, she thought she was on to something about the product—something that could be sold to a competitor. And that may have cost her her life.” I put my fork down. I’d just lost my appetite.

  “That’s what I think,” Marie said.

  “But who was the ringleader, the person who put the plan together?” I asked. “Was Billy Joe smart enough to do that?”

  “I don’t know,” Marie said. “He was never the brightest bulb, but he did like money. He was shrewd enough to get what he needed from the old man. At least until recently. Maybe he came up with another way to get money.”

  “Where is Charlie Flack now?” I asked.

  “Not a clue. If he’s smart, he’s long gone. Their operation is dead in the water,” Marie said.

  “Maybe. But someone sure thought Ellie or the kids had the information they were searching for. Who’s to say they will stop now, and who’s to say Billy Joe was really the one in charge?” I waited for Marie to respond.

  “You think Billy Joe may have been working for someone else? Someone who didn’t trust him and got rid of him?”

  “I am worried about that. And I hope I’m wrong.”

  “That’s why we moved again,” Lurleen added.

  “We were told Billy Joe’s death was an accident,” Marie said.

  “So were we, but Garrett doesn’t believe it.” I studied Marie. She seemed agitated.

  “I can see your point, but I don’t have any answers for you,” she said. “I haven’t seen anyone else acting suspiciously. The higher-ups are ecstatic about the new product. It’s going to make millions for all of us. Why would anyone sabotage that?”

  Why indeed? Marie seemed to have shut down, or was that just my imagination? Maybe my brother’s paranoia was catching. I wasn’t really sure who I could trust, maybe not even one of Lurleen’s best friends.

  We finished our lunch with promises to meet again once this whole thing was behind us.

  Lurleen headed back to the condo as much to see Dan, I suspect, as the children. I went on to school, spoke with the principal and each teacher. Everyone was sympathetic. I left with an armful of books and worksheets.

  Mason called me as I was about to leave the school. He was still in Alpharetta but hoped to wrap things up in a day or two. He listened quietly while I filled him in about Charlie Flack and our lunch with Marie.

  “You shouldn’t have gone to see her without informing me,” he said in his most formal detective voice.

  “I’m sorry,” I said in a tone that I hoped sounded genuine.

  “Do you have a description of Charlie Flack?” he asked. “An old address?”

  “I’m sorry, Mason. I didn’t think to ask for either one. But I can follow up.”

  “That’s all right. I’ll get Dan on it. I don’t want you anywhere near Sandler’s. I’d do it myself, but I’m still supposed to be hands off.”

  “Have you figured out why?”

  “No. How are the kids?”

  “They’re fine, or as fine as they can be moving every few days. How about you?”

  “As good as I can be after being sent on a bogus case. I’d like to come by this evening.”

  “Better make it as early as you can. Tommy isn’t big on detectives. He wants Dan to stay out of his condo, so Dan’s camped downstairs in the lobby.”

  “I know. He told me about it. Maybe we can all go out to dinner.”

  That cheered me up. I’m not sure why I still hadn’t learned that nothing in our lives would run smoothly. Even plans to go to dinner.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I left the parking lot of the school and wound my way through local streets until I was heading north on Piedmont. I was eager to see the kids, but Buckhead traffic was impossible as usual. It was one of many reasons I’d never live in Buckhead. Too upscale for me and far too congested.

  For Tommy it was perfect. Near the action. He could be anonymous and in the thick of things at the same time. Tommy loved his mystique—never te
ll everything you know. That’s what made him such a good lawyer and such an annoying brother. He loved being elusive.

  The valet at the condo greeted me as if I were a long-time resident. The concierge Oscar did the same.

  “Nice morning?” Oscar asked me.

  “Yes, thanks. An easy work day and a great lunch when I was done,” I said. “Everything quiet here?”

  “Yes, Dr. Brown.”

  Dan came loping down the corridor at the back of the lobby. “Glad to catch you,” he said. He led me to a private space near a large art deco fireplace. “Got some news for you.” He looked somber.

  “Are the kids safe?” I could feel my hands getting clammy.

  “No problem with the kids. Didn’t mean to worry you, Dr. Brown. It’s not about the kids. We had a great time. No one bothered us. The kids enjoyed themselves. I hope you don’t mind—they had hamburgers, french fries, and shakes.”

  “I don’t mind,” I said. “I know Jason is thrilled whenever he can spend time with you. And a little junk food won’t hurt them once in a while. Thanks. What’s the news?”

  “It’s about Billy Joe. I just checked with my contacts at the police department. Mason is cut off from all sources of information for some reason. It’s driving him crazy. But it seems I’m still flying under the radar. I got this from more than one source. Billy Joe didn’t die in an accident. He was pushed off the road and into the ravine. And he was dead before he ever went over the edge. Shot in the back of the head at close range.”

  “Oh, my God! Why would they tell Mason it looked like an accident and then pull him off the case?”

  “That’s what Mason is trying to figure out.” He paused. “I thought you should know. It changes the situation with the kids. They shouldn’t be out of my sight.”

  “I agree. I don’t care what my brother says; I want you upstairs with them all the time. Come with me now.” I nodded at Oscar and marched to the elevator with Dan beside me.

 

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