Peppermint Soul (Liza McNairy Mysteries Book 1)

by Dan Glover

  "Come on, Sally. You can do better than that. All the other girls have bared their souls tonight. Tell us... it's a simple enough question: if money was no object, what would you do?"

  "I don't know, Lorraine... I've never thought about it before. I suppose I'd like to live on an island somewhere where it was warm all the time and no one knew me... Hawaii, maybe."

  "There... was that so hard, Sally?'

  And here she was... living the dream. Yet now that she was here, so were the nightmares.

  Chapter 88—Tying Up

  (Loose Ends)

  He sure slept better knowing the Picany woman was out of the way. The Captain knew a lot of people and one of them happened to be a pimp over on Sunset with a stable of horses that'd do whatever he told them to do, including shanking a woman to death in lockup. Hell, the bitch was already doing a life sentence. Fifty grand would buy a lot of commissary. Not that she'd live long enough to spend much of it.

  Something bothered him, though. It was too easy. If the Picany woman was the same perp who killed both Johm and Olay, why the hell would she poison Reilly Cooper in her own home? It didn’t make sense. And the Captain made a living making sense out of the inscrutable. Someone had set her up. And if that was true, it meant there still might be hell to pay down the road.

  Now, Hank Lupo was crying how his wife had up and vanished on him. Hell, the woman should've left years ago what with all the playing around her husband did. Was it only a coincidence that Sally Lupo had disappeared the same time that Cooper had been poisoned? And if they had the wrong suspect, why didn’t Hank come out and say so?

  What if the man had his own agenda? What if he wanted payback... his own kind of retribution? Stranger things had happened in Los Angeles County. And Lupo... he seemed unduly concerned too. Had his wife made off with part of his loot? He'd told Lupo a million times not to keep cash on hand like that. Too easy to disappear. Yeah, that's what happened.

  Hank Lupo would bear watching. The man was a loaded gun waiting for someone to kick over the edge. The sad part was, he actually liked Hank. Oh, they'd never been friends, not like drinking buddies or the have each other over to the house for dinner type of guys... but they relied on each other. At least he relied on Hank.

  That was the bad part of this business. He couldn’t afford friends. Always kept others at arm's length. There was the possibility the wrong questions might be asked and the only answers he might have were not in keeping with real friendship. Maybe that's why he kept so close to his family. The wife was old school. Brought her over from Sicily. She knew enough not to inquire about his business or where the money came from. She simply enjoyed what they had.

  His grandfather had emigrated to the United States some sixty years ago. Raised his family here while working himself to death in the stockyards of Chicago. Named all his children Anglican names but kept the surname. Grandmother said how proud the old man was to be named for a priest. The man died before the Captain ever had the chance to know him. He remembered being led to his bedside and seeing an old frail figure who more resembled a corpse than a living human being. The Captain must have been five years old. But he swore to himself and almighty God that he'd never end up like that.

  Had he cut some corners on getting what he wanted out of life? Absolutely. But all wealthy men did that. Was he sorry for his transgressions against God and his fellow human beings? Only sometimes. Like now. When he wished more than anything that Grandfather Presti had never left Sicily.

  "Is this Liza McNairy?"

  "Yes... who's calling, please?"

  "Captain Roy Presti... remember me?"

  "Of course I do, Captain. What can I do for you?"

  "I understand you're working one of our cold cases. The Picany twins. I just came across an old case file that might be of interest. Could you stop by and pick it up? And I do mean you, Liza... alone. I know you work with that convict faggot. Don’t even think of bringing that man into my office."

  "I understand... is tomorrow good, Captain?"

  "Perfect. Stop by the satellite office over in Pomona in the evening... say after seven. I'm busy most every day but I always have a few minutes later on."

  "I'll be there, Captain. And thank you."

  Ha. The bitch actually sounded grateful. Now if she'd come alone, things would be perfect. But she wouldn’t. He'd have to ready for the pair of them. That queer followed McNairy everywhere, from the word he got. If not for Forthright, the girl'd be dead now. He was a man to watch. But no matter. The Captain had been around the block a time or two.

  Yep. Things were coming to a head, and quickly. Couldn’t let his guard down now.

  Chapter 89—Apps

  (In Paradise)

  "How do you do it, Reilly?"

  "Do what, Hank?"

  "Track people... I understand you can locate anyone in the world just by using their phone."

  "Well, yeah... in a way. But the technology does that... not me."

  "How?"

  "I provide you with the app, Hank. It's a thousand a month, though."

  "Done... here, I'll pay you one month up front right now."

  "Well... I need three months in advance to make it worth my while."

  "Jesus Christ, Reilly... can I just hire you for less?"

  "Who're you looking for, Hank?"

  "My wife Sally's disappeared. I'm worried about her. Plus she's taken something that belongs to me."

  "I see. Well, let me know if you want to buy the app and I'll set you up."

  He could almost see the wheels turning in Hank's head but Reilly got the distinct feeling the man wasn’t worried so much about his wife as he was about what she had taken with her. In his experience, there was only one thing that couldn’t be easily replaced: money.

  They were talking over coffee at a secluded beachside café where sea birds buzzed the patrons and where Hank had wanted to meet. The whole affair smelled of intrigue and clandestine events that often permeated even the best of marriages. Reilly doubted the Lupos had anything like that—a good marriage—but then again he'd been wrong before.

  "I'm in a bit of a bind right now, partner. Help me out and I'll make it worth your while."

  Now where have I heard that before? Oh yes... I remember. McNairy and Forthright... they needed him too. And so sure, I'll help you out. What happened? He was left high and dry... no job, no income, no friends. Partner. Yeah, right, Hank. I'll be your partner.

  "There are other ways to find people, Hank. We don't necessarily need to track them with a cell phone, though that does make things easier."

  He had his own reason for finding Sally Lupo but Reilly thought it might be better to keep that to himself for now. When Liza and Danners contacted him with a request to help Hank Lupo track down the woman who'd poisoned him, he agreed without even negotiating a fee. Danners gave him that look—the one that said he too knew more than he was letting on—but it didn’t matter. That bitch was going to get the full brunt of what was coming to her.

  "We can't make too much a fuss over this, Reilly. I just want back what she took from me. Other than that, she's free to do what she wants."

  "What'd she take, Hank?"

  "If I tell you, what guarantee do I have that you won't keep it yourself, Reilly?"

  "None. But if you refuse to tell me what I'm looking for it's going to be mighty difficult to find it."

  "You're looking for my wife. Find her and I'll pay you one million dollars in cash."

  So it was money that she took. And probably a lot more than a million dollars if Hank was willing to part with that much to retrieve the rest of it. Interesting. It'd be easy enough to locate the woman. As connected as the world had become, no one could hide for long... at least no one who was alive.

  "Do you have anything that belonged to Sally? Some personal item, perhaps? Something she wore? A favorite trinket?"

  "Nothing... when she left she either took it all with her or threw it out."

  Dammit. Da
nners could help if they had a little something to go on. He supposed it might be better this way, though. No sense getting McNairy and Forthright involved unless necessary.

  "Tell me anywhere she liked to go, Hank. A vacation spot she was particularly fond of, friends who lived in other states or even other countries."

  "Sally never went anywhere. No, wait... now that I think about it she did go to some sort of retreat about three years ago.... in Colorado, I think. One of those women-only affairs... you know the kind. They all get naked and stand around in a circle and bang drums and other nonsense. She never talked about it much but I think she enjoyed it."

  "That's a start, Hank. Give me a few days to see what I can come up with. I take it you've talked with McNairy and Forthright about this."

  "Well, yes... they're the ones who suggested I contact you."

  Finally he was getting the referrals that Danners had promised. But hell, he was tired of hanging onto make believe. Sick of living hand to mouth, of never knowing where the rent would come from and skimping on food to keep the electric turned on. That wasn’t living. It was high time to take steps to remedy that situation, and other than beginning a new career as a bank robber, the best solution seemed to be in finding the bitch that had tried to kill him and giving her a good dose of that same medicine.

  Chapter 90—Oklahoma

  (Calling me Home)

  1

  He always told himself he could stop the drinking anytime he wanted but it was a lie. Maybe he'd been at it too long now to quit, or it could be that his willpower was shot. Either way, he needed a little something to start the day—an eye opener, nothing more—and a few belts along the way to help mitigate the tremors. He had to face it. He was an alcoholic.

  Still, he'd managed to cut down at least. He no longer drank until he passed out. Instead, it was more palliative. The booze kept away the more onerous effects of withdrawal so he could function again. Now that the twins were back in his life there was so much to do.

  Ally Nola was a Godsend. The woman had cared for the girls since they were teenagers and he wasn’t about to tear them away from her now. Even though the poor old thing was batshit crazy she loved those girls, and the others she cared for. One of the first thing he did upon arriving in Oklahoma City was to arrange with a real estate agent to purchase a home sufficiently large for all of them to live comfortably... a place secluded enough that it'd be hard for anyone to find, and yet with all the amenities.

  They didn’t trust him at first... not that he could blame them. It was plain the girls didn’t remember him and of course the old woman had no idea who he was. It broke his heart to see them like that, shattered dolls glued back together after a great fall, scars both real and perceived. And to think he had some measure of responsibility in all of it nearly caused him to leave... to drive to the nearest bridge and to jump off... yet what good would that do anyone?

  For the first time in years he actually was needed, and dammit, it was high time he quit shirking his duty as a father. So he stayed. Each day he went to the old abandoned hospital bearing small gifts and good things to eat. In time, the girls seemed to look forward to his visits. He'd see them sitting in the high window over the entrance as of waiting for him and by the time he reached the door they'd both be there welcoming him inside.

  "Mr. Picany... are you going to take the girls away from me?"

  "No, Ms. Nola... I wouldn’t do that to you or to them. But this place... it's falling apart. You deserve someplace better. Could we all take a ride? I'd like to show you something."

  He'd be closing on the house in a week. The sellers agreed to allow him access to the place in order to show it to his family. He wasn’t sure how they'd take it, the girls, Ms. Nola, and the others... but they all seemed surprised at not only the spaciousness of the home but at how well-kept it was compared to the old hospital where they'd been living.

  The girls could no longer speak. Their only form of communication was with their eyes and with hand gestures that seemed rudimentary at best. Still, Ms. Nola talked to them constantly, or was she merely speaking aloud? Despite the torment the twins had endured they both seemed relatively healthy, as did the other four patients under Ally Nola's care.

  What sort of person would devote their life to seeing after mentally ill patients? Until the moment he walked into the abandoned insane asylum and found them there, Allen had visions of taking his girls away to some place where the three of them could start again... somewhere no one knew them or their history. Now, though, he couldn’t imagine separating the twins from the others. They were all like children, even Ally Nola.

  "Oh my Lord, Mr. Picany... we shouldn’t be going into a house like this. What if someone sees us and calls the police? We'll all be arrested."

  "It's all right, Ms. Nola... this is where we're going to live."

  "How is that possible though?"

  "I bought it, Ms. Nola. It's plenty big enough for all of us. Come on... let's look around. I think it's a little better than where you're staying now. If you don’t like it, we'll find somewhere else. Tell me what you think."

  "You know, Mr. Picany... when those two detectives showed up, they put the fear into me. As soon as they left, I took my girls and went to stay with my sister. But she hasn’t room enough for all of us. And besides, I—we—missed our home. So we went back. And as wonderful as this place is, I'm not sure we can live here."

  "Let's just give it a try, Ms. Nola. If you ever want to go back to that asylum, you're free to do so. Will that work?"

  2

  He felt as if he was finally home. It was odd. All the years he'd spent with Paula had been but a waste but he didn’t realize it until she was gone. Now, having the girls back and being in the company of the others, Allen felt a sense of family he'd never known before.

  "Why are you doing this for us, Allen?"

  "I'm not sure what you mean, Ally. Missy and Melinda are my daughters. And you've taken care of them for so long I'm sure they'd be devastated if you left us."

  "Most men wouldn’t take in a group of strangers like you've done. I expected you to take the girls and go back home."

  "I'm not sure the girls need me, Ally. But they need you just like I need them. That's why I'm doing this. I want Missy and Melinda to be happy. From what I've seen, that wouldn’t be possible without you and the others around.

  "Honestly, when McNairy called saying they'd found the girls I was ready to fly out here and bring them back to California with me. But then I realized what a mistake that could be. They belong here now, not out there."

  "Those two detectives that showed up here... sure, I remember them. They said they'd be back with the parents. I thought sure you'd take them home. That frightened me. I can't imagine life without those girls. I always called them Jill and Jane but I like Missy and Melinda better."

  "No one is taking the girls away from you, Ally. You're free to stay here with us as long as you like... the others too. I have enough money that none of us will want for anything."

  He had the feeling the old woman still didn’t believe him at first but as the days went by and then the weeks she seemed to grow more settled. The estate he'd purchased was an old church that'd been converted into a residence... some twenty thousand square feet of living space planted in the middle of a twenty acre parcel of forest. By setting it all up as a non-profit business Allen had been able to minimize the taxes as well as qualify for federal funds to help offset the expenses.

  He'd been a little unsettled to see Liza McNairy and Danners Forthright pull into the courtyard. He knew they were coming but at the same time he wasn’t exactly sure why. Was it to bring the authorities into the mix? If so, he was going to be arrested, sure enough. Maybe they'd learned the truth. He knew he couldn’t hide from it but at least the liquor kept it at bay. Now, were they going to confront him?

  "Hello, Mr. Picany. Looks like you've found yourself quite a spot here."

  "Hello, Ms. McNairy. Let's cut
the bullshit. Tell me what you want."

  "Danners just wants to say goodbye to Benji... and we both wanted to see that the twins were being cared for."

  "They are. They're out back, Mr. Forthright. You can walk back there. Go ahead."

  For a moment he felt so lightheaded he thought he'd faint. They hadn’t come for him after all. They were only worried about the girls. It seemed too good to be true, somehow. Until they drove away, Allen told himself to watch the booze... to not get too drunk and pass out. No telling what might happen in that case.

  "Could we talk in private, Mr. Picany?"

  "Absolutely, Ms. McNairy. Follow me."

  So here it was. The ultimatum. The reason why they'd traveled a thousand miles. It wasn’t over some stupid bear and it had nothing to do with the twins. What did McNairy and Forthright care about the girls? They didn’t. They had their own agenda and he was about to be made aware of it, like it or not.

  Maybe they just wanted money. The cash card he gave them should still be good for another month or so. But from the looks of it, they weren’t satisfied with that paltry sum. Had they gotten word of his windfall? And if so, did they know who'd sent it? Did they come here to take it back? If that were the case, they were in for a disappointment. He'd set up the remaining funds in an unbreakable trust. Good luck trying to get it back now.

  "I want you to know we're not going to disclose your whereabouts to anyone, Mr. Picany... nor the twins. I'm pretty sure you're thinking we've come to upset things for you, but we have no intention of doing so. Once Danners is satisfied, we'll leave here and never return. For your part, keep everyone safe. If we could find the twins, others might well be able to do so as well."