1 Murder for Bid

by Susan Furlong-Bolliger

  I teetered emotionally. Is that what I wanted? I knew it wasn’t, but I wasn’t going to wait around either. Then there was Greg. Why was I feeling so attracted to him? It must be that “bad-boy” thing that people are always talking about; because logically, I knew that Greg Davis wasn’t good for me. Or maybe, he could be ooooh so good for me. Undoubtedly he could. I mean, he was so delicious looking.

  Sean broke the silence. “I’m on my way to your place now. We’ll talk there.”

  “Fine, but it’ll be a while. I’m on the other side of town.”

  “I’ll wait.” He disconnected.

  I took my time making my way back home. It wouldn’t do to let him think I would just rush home to meet with him. I even stopped off at a couple more sales. By the time I pulled up behind my place and parked next to his Jeep, it was almost 6:30. He had probably been waiting for over an hour.

  I was half-way up my stairs when I heard voices from my parents’ backyard. I hustled back down and peeked around the shrubs.

  “Honey!” Mom yelled, spying me. “Come on back, we’ve been waiting for you.”

  For some reason the jovial scene before my eyes ticked me off. Sean was kicked back in Dad’s favorite lounge chair with a long neck in his hand and a half-eaten plate resting on his knees. Mom was seated across from him holding out a giant bowl of pasta salad trying to convince him to dip in for more. Dad, wearing his kiss the chef apron, was at the grill, happily flipping a second round of burgers.

  Sean stood as I approached.

  “What’s going on here?” I asked, sounding crankier than I wanted.

  Mom shot me disapproving look. “We’re eating. What’s it look like?” she snapped. “Where are your manners?”`

  Carrying a loaded plate, Dad came to my rescue. “Don’t be so hard on her, Maureen. She’s just hungry. You know how she gets when her stomach is empty.”

  Sean sat back down, eyeing me wearily. He took a long drag on his beer.

  “Sit down and eat,” Mom ordered.

  Dad joined us, handing me a beer. “This young man has been keeping us entertained with police stories. I swear, he should write a book about some of his experiences. I have a whole new appreciation for what police officers go through on a daily basis.”

  Sean looked up from his plate sheepishly.

  “Really,” I commented unenthusiastically. “To think that many of them still find time in their busy schedules to do things like volunteer for the Special Olympics.” My attitude was making everyone tense.

  “Yes,” Mom interjected. She wasn’t going to give up on making this a happy little get together. “Anyway, the funniest story was one that Sean was telling us about an incident that happened today in the parking lot at Hector’s.”

  I looked at Sean. He had told them?

  Mom was grinning from ear to ear. “I told Sean that you get your hot temper from me, and your poor driving skills from your father. You don’t really stand a chance.”

  I took a long drink and laughed obligingly. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to drink a little beer, too. I finished the one in my hand and reached for another. It had been a long day, I needed to kick back.

  We ate and drank together for another hour, listening to some more of Sean’s stories. To their credit, no one brought up the bracelet that was found in my apartment the night before. I guess they were trying to cheer me up. They kept the conversation light and although I tried to participate in all the pleasantries, I just couldn’t shake my mood. I’m sure my parents could sense the tension between Sean and me. Even after a couple of beers and one of my Dad’s famous burgers, I was still mad. I couldn’t wait for the whole artificially pleasant fiasco to be over.

  I found a plausible escape route when Dad waved another burger my direction.

  “No thanks, Dad. They’re great, but I’m stuffed. Besides, I’ve got a lot to do tonight.”

  He reached into his pocket and held out a set of keys. “I had the locks on your apartment changed today. No more leaving the door unlocked, okay?”

  I agreed to be more careful and gratefully took the keys. Sean rose. “Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien, everything was great, thank you.” He started to clear the plates.

  “I’ll take care of that,” Mom said, taking the plates from his hands. “I’m sure we’re keeping you two from something fun. Are you going to see a movie?”

  Sean and I looked at each other, neither one of us knowing how to respond.

  “Uh, we’re not sure yet. We just thought we’d hang out and see what’s happening.” I gave them both quick hugs. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  “You have something to wear for the gala tomorrow, right?” Mom asked, before I had managed to escape.

  “Yes, actually I do.”

  She looked pleasantly surprised. Apparently my mother didn’t have a lot of confidence in my wardrobe-choosing abilities. “Our table is front and center. I saved two chairs for you and …a guest.” She hesitated, realizing that she hadn’t thought to ask who that guest might be. There was a moment of awkwardness as she glanced in Sean’s direction.

  To his credit, his expression remained neutral. I wondered if Mom was hoping I would bring Sean or was she holding out that I would bring a show-stopper like Greg. Wouldn’t she be surprised to see me show up with Shep? Oh, no. I forgot to tell Shep to keep things toned down. I hope he didn’t show up in his usual flamboyancy. While they were open-minded, I wasn’t certain that my parents were ready for Shep’s flair for fashion.

  Sean dropped his social façade as soon as we were out of my parent’s sight. “Can we talk up in your apartment?” he asked.

  I decided to let him in. I even offered him another drink. He declined and remained standing. “There’s nothing going on with Sarah and me. We work together on the Special Olympics and that’s it. You’ve got to trust me.”

  “You’re not attracted to her?” I asked.

  “No,” he replied after an ever-so-slight hesitation. Liar. How could any man not be attracted to Sarah Maloney? She had the body of runway model, the face of a cover girl, and the brains and ambition of Nobel Peace Prize winner.

  I stood motionless, staring him down.

  “Okay,” he relented. “She’s attractive, but there are a lot of attractive women out there, Pippi.” He grabbed my hands. “It’s you I’m with.”

  “What are you saying? You find her attractive, but it’s me that you’re stuck with?”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “That’s what you meant.”

  “What about Greg Davis? Are you attracted to him?” he countered.

  Uh, oh. What could I say?

  Sean waited for me to answer and then began to shift uneasily when I didn’t.

  I was trying to come up with the right way to say how I felt when he stiffened and backed away. “You know, I really don’t have time for this now,” he said, a dark expression taking over his features. “I’ve got too many other things I’ve got to take care of. This personal stuff is going to have to wait.”

  “So, our relationship isn’t that important to you?” I asked.

  He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. Let’s just give things between us a break until we can both calm down and figure out what we want.”

  “Fine,” I said. “I guess we’ll just wait and see how things turn out. Maybe in another three years we’ll have a better idea of how we feel,” I added facetiously.

  We stared at each other. I was waiting for his emotions to crack; maybe he would even beg to work things out.

  “I need to know what you’ve found out about Jessica Hanson,” he said, changing the topic so abruptly it made my head spin. So much for emotions. Was this how he was going to play it? Was he that cold that he could throw away all the time we had invested over the last few years?

  “Look,” he continued as if reading my mind. “I want to work this thing out between us, but I’ve also got a job to do. I need to kn
ow what Greg told you at the restaurant today.”

  I stood still for a minute, considering my options. I could be just as cold-hearted. Finally I said, “If I answer your questions will you answer a couple of mine?”

  He shrugged, “If I can.”

  We were standing uncomfortably close to each other. I backed up a couple of inches and said, “All I know about Jessica Hanson is that she was Judge Reiner’s intern and that she’s missing.”

  “Greg told you that?” he inquired.

  “Yes. He said that there were some rumors that the judge had been involved in something illegal and that Schmidt’s law firm was investigating him. The judge thought the intern might have something that could incriminate him and that’s why she disappeared.”

  Sean nodded. “What else did Greg say?” His voice was unnaturally neutral.

  “In his opinion, he thinks that the judge was looking for key evidence that might have been at the Schmidt residence. Either he went there himself or he sent a goon over to retrieve it when he thought no one would be home, except that Amanda was there and got in the way.”

  “I see.” Sean crossed in front of me and sat on the couch. I cleared some boxes off my coffee table and sat on the edge across from him.

  “What else have you found out?” he asked, staring right into my eyes, daring me to try to lie.

  “Just a few odd things here and there.”

  “What type of odd things?”

  “I dropped in on Madeline Reiner a couple of mornings ago. She seemed very agitated when I suggested that Richard Schmidt might have a mistress. I also discovered that she has a strange fetish for naughty nightwear.”

  He scrunched his brows. “What?”

  I held up my hand. “There’s more. Greg hinted that she has quite a few issues. He said that she’s a kleptomaniac. Seems she has a reputation around town.”

  Sean drew in a deep breath but let me continue.

  “Also, I checked with Amanda’s hairstylist. He confirmed that there was an affair. Apparently Amanda had confided in him before her death. So, I guess, that shirt I found in the garbage might have been a key piece of evidence after all.” I finished my statement with a little shake of my shoulders for emphasis.

  “Probably,” Sean conceded. “We sent a team to the dump, but we couldn’t locate it.”

  My jaw dropped. So, I was right! My instincts that Schmidt killed his own wife had been dead-on all along! I resisted the urge to do an I-told-you-so dance.

  “Is that everything?” he asked.

  “Yup. That’s it.” I had left out the fact that I saw Madeline Reiner walking into Schmidt’s building yesterday. He’d be furious if he knew I’d been that close to Schmidt again.

  He let out a long sigh. “You’ve been busy.”

  “Now it’s your turn. What did your guys find out about the bracelet?”

  “As we suspected, it belonged to Amanda. Schmidt confirmed it.”

  I wasn’t surprised, but having my suspicions confirmed made it all sink in.

  “You don’t have any idea when it could have been placed in your apartment?” he asked.

  “No, like I told you last night, I’ve been in and out so much these past couple of days, it’s impossible to figure out when someone could have broken in.”

  He glanced around at my overstuffed apartment. “Yeah, and you may not have noticed it with all this other stuff around.”

  I shrugged. “There was the car I told you about. The one in the alley.”

  “We checked with the neighbors. No one saw anything.”

  “Figures.”

  “I know that someone is trying to frame you, but it wouldn’t hurt to get a lawyer, just in case something else turns up pointing to you as the prime suspect.”

  “I can’t afford an attorney. Besides, I called you when I found the bracelet. Why would I do that if I was the one that stole it in the first place?”

  He shook his head. “I agree and fortunately so does the D.A. Just think how differently it would have gone down if I would have been here and discovered the bracelet, or someone else for that matter. It would have looked bad for you.”

  He had a point. “Prints?”

  “None on the bracelet except yours and your mothers.”

  I sighed. “Is Jessica Hanson officially missing?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think she’s dead?”

  “No.”

  “No? Then you must have some more information.”

  He shrugged.

  “You’ve put a trace on her credit cards. They always do that on TV cop shows. Where is she?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Fine. I’m assuming then that she’s in witness protection. Are you building a case against the judge?”

  “I’ve said enough about that, Pip.”

  I sat back, thinking. This Jessica Hanson thing opened a whole new bunch of options. Was it possible that I had been wrong about Schmidt all along? “Do you know where Jessica was getting her law degree?” I could take a good guess, but I wanted confirmation.

  “She was an undergrad at Northwestern. Her dad, believe it or not, got her the internship. He’s a Cook County Judge.”

  Interesting. “Can you give me a hint about what Judge Reiner might be involved in?”

  Sean shifted in his seat, “I don’t know.”

  “Come on, Sean. Save me the research. You know that judicial rulings are public information. If I dig around hard enough, I’ll eventually figure it out. Or, come to think of it, I could just call Greg and ask him. He seems to have his ear on the rumor mill.”

  Sean briefly considered these options before relenting. “It concerns the Bensenville Industrial Park. It seems that money may have crossed hands to get the permits approved.”

  “Wow. There’s been quite the debate over that for years. I didn’t even know it had passed. The environmentalists must be up in arms. Who’s the contractor?”

  “There were several bids on the line, including one from your pal Greg Davis. B&J Construction won the contract, though. It’s worth millions.”

  I sat back, digesting what he’d told me. “Do you think Amanda was just in the wrong place at the wrong time or was it more personal than that?” I asked.

  “That’s a good question. I have no idea yet.”

  I considered what a waste it all was. An innocent life lost just because of greed. I thought of another question. “Is Schmidt still investigating the judge?”

  “Supposedly not. We weren’t even aware of the judge’s alleged activities until we started the homicide investigation. Schmidt told us a couple of days after Amanda’s murder. It’s all been turned over to the Feds now.”

  I thought back to Amanda’s murder. How ironic that the judge showed up that day to help console Richard. He seemed like a friend. I just couldn’t believe that it was all an act. He couldn’t have known he was being investigated by Schmidt’s firm then. Greg’s suspicions of the judge couldn’t be correct. Unless the Reiners were just putting on a good show that day for the police, and possibly even the news cameras. Those types of social connivers were always good actors. How many times had I seen Sheila smile and hug one of her contemporaries just to bad mouth the same woman seconds later?

  “You were there the day the Reiners showed up at the crime scene and consoled Schmidt. Do you think it was just all an act?”

  “I doubt it, but who knows?” He rose from the sofa and offered his hand to help me up. “Things are never what they seem, Pippi,” he said.

  I wondered if he was referring to the case or something else. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but he was already at the door.

  He opened it as if to leave, but instead he turned back. “I may as well tell you. It’s going to be all over the news tomorrow. Amanda’s murder has been ruled a double homicide.”

  I was taken back.

  “She was pregnant,” he added. “Not full term. She was slim, so p
robably not many people even noticed. But she was far enough along that the coroner ruled it a viable pregnancy.”

  “Oh, no,” I said, contemplating this new information. Pregnant. Of course, Schmidt would have known about the pregnancy. I just couldn’t see him murdering his own child. Unless … was it possible that it wasn’t Schmidt; that there was a third possibility that no one had even considered yet?”

  “You know, whoever’s responsible for these murders is onto you Pippi. You should back off. There’s a lot of powerful people involved. It’s just going to get more dangerous.”

  “Your concern is touching,” I said in a sarcastic tone, regurgitating some of the anger I had been feeling toward him. “But, I’m not backing down now. You’re right. Someone is onto me and by breaking in here they’ve posed a threat to me and my parents. I won’t be able to stop looking over my shoulder until they’re behind bars.”

  “Don’t you trust me to do my job?”

  I nodded. “I do, but…”

  He placed his hands on my shoulders, looking straight into my eyes. “Whoever broke in could have just as easily been waiting for you. They could have killed you if they wanted. They’re just trying to throw suspicion off themselves and you’re an easy target since you were already spotted at the scene. If you continue, they might change their tactics and decide that it would just be easier to eliminate you all together.”

  He was right. Maybe I should back down. “Okay. I’ll try to let it go.” Or at least I’d be more careful when I was poking around.

  He let out his breath, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His hands were still on my shoulders and I waited, anticipating his next move. Would he kiss me? Would we be able to fix all that had come between us in the last couple of days? I leaned in, reaching for him, but he backed away, leaving my arms dangling.

  Without another word, he turned and left. I watched him, his steps heavy as he made his way down my stairs. He didn’t even glance back.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I woke up the next morning determined that I wasn’t going waste another second crying over Sean, or lusting over Greg, or worrying about Sarah Maloney. Agreeing to back down on the case was a relief. I had been tying up too much of my time messing around trying to find Amanda’s killer and I had better things to do, like getting my business back on track.