Trading Places

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Trading Places Page 14

by Fern Michaels


  Lizzie looked across the kitchen at the green frog with the red-painted lips. It seemed to be leering at her. “Too bad you can’t prove any of that. Guess what. Will Fargo’s brother came to the station this morning to get Will’s things. Three big boxes from the vault. His butterfly collection. He signed it out and is now probably back home in Spokane, Seattle, or wherever he lives.”

  The reporter looked so shocked, Lizzie almost laughed. “Butterfly collection?”

  The green frog with the painted lips looked like it was laughing now. “Yes, butterfly collection. The chief knew all about Will’s collection. Seems like everyone in the department knew about it but me. The boxes had red sealing wax all over the lids. The chief gave the okay to release the boxes because they’d audited the evidence room and the vault as soon as word came down that Will passed away. Everything checked out one hundred percent. There was no reason not to release it, according to the chief.”

  The stupefied expression stayed on Nathan’s face. “Butterfly collection?”

  Lizzie sighed. “You said that already. I know what you’re thinking because I’ve been thinking the same thing all day. Those boxes were weighed. The weight was exactly the same today as it was when they were first put in there. That’s what I mean by everything checking out. Is it drugs or is it money? I don’t know. Paper money is nowhere near as heavy as kilos of cocaine. I’m thinking it’s money, and the drugs were hidden somewhere else.”

  “What makes you think that, Aggie?”

  “Cop’s intuition. Sometimes my memory gets a little fuzzy. How many kilos were there?” Lizzie rubbed at her temples in an attempt to prove her memory wasn’t what it should be.

  “It was all speculation, don’t you remember? At the paper we just quoted probable street values. You say a hundred kilos and only eighty show up at recovery, people get downright pissy, and all kinds of things go wrong. It always bothered me, and it bothered my boss, too, that the night of the bust, the warehouse was empty. Everything was so synchronized it just smelled from the git-go. The other really weird thing was nothing was being said on the street. The snitches clammed up, no one was talking. There were no shoot-outs or dead bodies at that time. Everything literally shut down. It was like the raid, the bust never happened.”

  “You’re saying this is because…because of bad cops?” Lizzie’s stomach started to heave. Think Plan B. Think Plan B. Nathan’s head bobbed up and down.

  Lizzie nodded sagely, giving the impression she knew what he was talking about. “I guess we need to try to figure out where they stashed it all. Assuming you’re correct.”

  Nathan stared across the table at Lizzie. His gaze was intense and yet smoldering at the same time. Lizzie’s body started to tingle as she let her imagination run wild. What would it be like to…?

  Nathan snapped his fingers. “Earth to Aggie. We need a starting point. If Will Fargo was neat and orderly as well as methodical, I’d say that’s where we start. I’ll clear it with my boss and go to Spokane. Or is it Seattle where his brother lives? We have to find out. Want to go with me? We can fly up tonight and be back tomorrow afternoon. Aggie, it would be a hell of a bust for you if you manage to solve this and bring down Tom’s killers, your very own partner, in the bargain. I get the front page, and we all live happily ever after. You wanna go for it?”

  “I have company, Nathan. I can’t just go off and leave them like that. Of course I want to go with you. Right now, you need to know and understand something. It will not be happily ever after. The whole department will view me the way they did that cop in New York, Chicago, or wherever he was. First they’ll transfer me here and there, and when things heat up, I’ll have to go undercover and hide out. Cops do not turn other cops in. Never. No matter what. There is a blue wall, no matter how much they protest. There are still prejudices where women on the force are concerned. They deny that also. It’s okay, I can handle it. If I’m forced into retirement, I can handle that, too.” Think Plan B. Plan B—her safety net.

  “Attagirl, Aggie. Listen, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I work for a very powerful newspaper, and I know other reporters around the country who work for even more powerful newspapers. How about this? I call some of my friends to come over and…entertain your friends this evening. You say home-cooked meal, they’ll be here like white on rice. They’re nice guys, Aggie. White-collar professionals on their way up the ladder. All of them are in their late thirties. How about it?”

  “I’ll run it by the girls. I hate leaving…Gus. I guess the girls can look after him.”

  “Okay, go check with them. I’ll call the guys. I’ll say eight o’clock, and I’ll make the plane reservations. You can pay me back later because I’m going to charge it to the paper. Investigative work, you know. You okay with that?”

  “Yeah, I am. I’ll…ah, check with the girls.”

  Outside, Lizzie dropped to her haunches and whispered out the deal to the girls, who were sunning themselves on colorful beach towels in the middle of the yard. “You’ll have to cook. You’re a good cook, Noreen. Someone will have to go to the store. I’ll leave money on the table and the keys to my car. Promise me you won’t let anything happen to Alice. I hate doing this, girls, but it really is important. I swear, I’ll make it up to you. And the guys who will be coming over are yuppies, white-collar, climbing the corporate ladder. What could be sweeter?”

  “You sold us,” Candy chirped. “Do we go for a walk after dinner, then watch a video? I’m new to this suburban lifestyle.”

  “Sounds good to me. Okay, take care of my dog, don’t let any strangers in, and don’t answer the phone. Unplug it. I should be back sometime late tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Lizzie, take care of yourself, okay? We’re going to worry about you,” Noreen said, a frown settling between her well-defined eyebrows.

  Lizzie looked at the worried expressions on her friends’ faces. “Hey, I’m a big girl. I’m more worried about you with these Southern boys. You take it easy on them, you hear?” The girls laughed. Lizzie felt better when she entered the kitchen through the back door.

  “It’s done,” Nathan said. “The guys will be here at eight. We have a five-thirty flight. That means with all the new airport security, we have time to pack a bag, get a quick bite to eat, and head for the airport. Hartsfield is not a fun place to stand in line, so let’s get cracking because I have to stop at my place to pick up my things.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lizzie said, snapping off a sloppy salute.

  It was raining in Spokane when the plane set down on the runway.

  “I feel like I never left home,” Lizzie grumbled. “It’s late, Nathan. Do you want to find a hotel or go to Daniel Fargo’s house first?”

  “My gut says we should go to his house first. Since it is so late, let’s just take a taxi instead of renting a car. You have the address, right?”

  It was raw and damp outside the terminal. Lizzie shivered inside her heavy navy sweater. “Yes, I do. If we can wrap this up tonight, we might be able to take the first flight out in the morning.”

  Nathan grinned. “Are you afraid of spending quality time with me, Aggie Jade?”

  “Of course not. Look, there’s a taxi. Grab it, Nathan. I hope it has a working heater in it.”

  Forty minutes later, Nathan paid the driver, asked for the number of the cab company so he could call for a return pickup, and removed their bags, which he slung over his shoulder.

  Lizzie continued to shiver as she looked around the quiet neighborhood. With the exception of two driveway lights, the neighborhood was totally dark. Daniel Fargo’s house sat in the middle of the block, seven houses away from the sodium vapor light at the end of the block. The neighborhood had an eerie feel to it.

  Daniel’s house looked small from the front, possibly a two or three-bedroom house, kind of like Aggie’s house. There was no front porch, but there was a stoop with three steps. Rain continued to pour down and around them. They ran for the stoop.


  Nathan set the bags down on the stoop and rang the bell, three quick jabs. They could hear it pealing inside as they waited for a light to come on. The house remained dark and silent. He pressed the bell three more times. Nothing happened.

  “Maybe he’s a heavy sleeper,” Lizzie said, her teeth chattering. “Or, maybe he isn’t home. Or…”

  “Do you know where the other brother lives?”

  Lizzie huddled against the pillar holding up the little stoop. “No. I don’t even know if either of them is married. Maybe Daniel went to the other brother’s house. I don’t think so, though. Daniel said he was going home. Ring the bell again.”

  Nathan rang the bell. When nothing happened, he said, “I’m going to go around to the back and try the door. Sometimes people leave their kitchen doors open. Or, maybe the door leading into the garage is open. My father always used to leave ours open.”

  “That’s breaking and entering,” Lizzie gasped.

  “I’m not going to break into anything. I’m going to turn the handle on the door to see if it’s open. If it’s open, I’ll walk through, and open the front door for you.”

  Lizzie was too wet and cold to argue. She was also getting crankier by the minute. She yelped in surprise when the door behind her opened and Nathan pulled her inside. “Told you the garage door would be open. I don’t think anyone is home. Let your eyes get accustomed to the dark. I don’t think we should turn any lights on.”

  “Let’s find the thermostat and turn the heat up first, okay?”

  “Look, Aggie, there’s his suitcase. You were right, he did come home. I found the thermostat, and I’m turning it up to eighty degrees. Take off your wet clothes and stick them in the dryer. It’s in the garage. I saw it when I came through. I’m going to look around. I don’t think he was married, Aggie. There aren’t any doodads scattered around. I don’t see any plants or anything. The kitchen looked pretty bare. I think the guy was either a bachelor or divorced. No kids either because there weren’t any bicycles or wagons in the garage.”

  Lizzie made her way to the garage through the kitchen, where she peeled off her sweater and tee shirt. She pulled out an armful of towels, tossed her stuff in, and turned it on. She wrapped the towels around her.

  She looked around. Nathan was right. Three aluminum lawn chairs leaned against the wall. A lawn mower and a ladder were on the opposite wall. A box of blue furnace filters were in front of the ladder. The only other items in the garage were a shovel and a rake in the corner. She made her way into the kitchen. Daniel Fargo appeared to be a tidy man. She could hear Nathan calling Daniel’s name as he made his way to the second floor.

  Wrapped in the towels from head to toe, she felt like a mummy as she opened cabinets and the refrigerator. Daniel Fargo lived alone. He was a neat, orderly person. Everything in the cabinets and the small pantry was aligned in neat rows. The refrigerator had fresh fruit and vegetables in the bins. The carton of milk, according to the expiration date, hadn’t expired yet. A bowl of leftover spaghetti sat on the middle shelf. Cold cuts in Ziploc bags were in the meat drawer. A plate of fried chicken wrapped in plastic wrap was on the bottom shelf. A bottle of wine, six bottles of beer, and three cans of Diet Pepsi were on the door shelf along with various condiments. Obviously Daniel Fargo knew how to cook.

  It was warmer now, almost toasty. Lizzie felt herself start to relax. She ran upstairs when she heard Nathan call her name. “What?” she called out breathlessly at the top of the steps.

  “I’m in here. Look at this!”

  A night-light above the baseboard showed her the way to the room where Daniel waited. He was sitting on the floor. He’d closed the blinds and a small night table lamp gave off enough light for her to see little mounds of red sealing wax all over the floor. “I found it this way. There is one butterfly collection in each of the boxes. Pick one up, Aggie, and see if the box feels as heavy as it did when you removed it from the shelf at headquarters.”

  Wrapping the towels around her more tightly to keep them in place, Lizzie lifted one of the boxes. She shook her head. “No, they were a lot heavier. I remember wondering at the time what Will could have in the way of paperwork that weighed fifty pounds. I guess I thought each box weighed around fifty pounds. I also remembered thinking I would get a hernia if I picked them up. My rookie helped me. How much do you think one of those glass cases weighs?”

  Nathan picked up one of the butterfly cases, moving it around to get a feel for it. “Actually, they aren’t glass, they’re plastic. Maybe a few ounces, no more. Take a look at these, Aggie. A real good look.”

  Still clutching the towels, Lizzie bent over the butterfly cases that Nathan lined up on the floor. “They all look the same to me.”

  “That’s because they are the same. I’m no expert on stuff like this but my common sense tells me what we’re looking at could be ordered from a catalog for $19.95. When I was a kid, I ordered ant farms and bug farms and stuff like that. The ants came in sealed glass, but the bugs came in cases like this. You’re the cop, Aggie. What does this mean?”

  Lizzie’s eyes were wild, and she was starting to sweat. “It means…it means…Will stashed his real collection someplace else and this was just a red herring. I think the boxes were full of money from his and his cronies’ past deals. I might be a cop, but I’m not a mind reader, Nathan. You know what else? I’m going to miss Will Fargo’s service tomorrow. Chief Shay is expecting a one hundred percent turnout. God, how could I have been so stupid to forget something like that?”

  “They won’t hold it against you when the truth comes out, Aggie. You could call him first thing in the morning and say…”

  Lizzie swiped at the perspiration on her forehead with the hem of one of the towels. “I can’t tell him where I am. At least not yet. God, what if the chief sends someone to the house to look for me. I can’t even call the girls to tell them to be on the lookout because I told them to unplug the phone. I don’t have any of their cell phone numbers with me. This is going to put me in the tall grass, Nathan.”

  Nathan leaned back against the bed. He’d never seen Aggie Jade this agitated before. She looked vulnerable and beaten. He wanted to reach out to pull her closer to him, but he didn’t. What would it be like to kiss her again? His imagination ran wild as he contemplated what would come after the kiss. He cleared his throat, hoping it would drive away his thoughts.

  “Say something, Nathan.”

  His voice was gruff-sounding. “Short term, Aggie. You have to think long term. Think about how it will be when you wrap it up. You’ll be a hero. They’ll give you a ceremony and a medal. You’ll get your picture in the paper. I’ll do the write-up personally.”

  “Dammit, Nathan, I’m not interested in becoming a hero, and I don’t need any medals. All I want to do is find out who killed my partner and almost killed me and my dog. That’s all I want.”

  “Okay, okay. Take it easy. Wait right here while I turn the heat down. Don’t move, Aggie. I’ll bring your clothes up from the dryer and put mine in. Do you want to part with those towels? If not, you’re going to have to talk to me when I’m in the buff.”

  Lizzie thought about it. “Toss my clothes up the steps, and I’ll get dressed and throw down the towels.”

  Nathan laughed. He was still laughing when Lizzie tossed down the towels. He was back within minutes. “You look good in yellow,” she quipped. Even in the sparse lamplight, she could see how the yellow towels brought out gold flecks in his brown eyes. Why had she thought he had gray eyes? Maybe it was the dim light, she dithered.

  “You should see me au naturel,” Nathan quipped in return. At her sour look, he asked, “What’s our game plan here?”

  “I don’t think we have a game plan, Nathan. I’ll tell you what I think happened. I think Daniel arrived home, carried his brother’s boxes upstairs to store them, then started to feel bad. I think he opened one of the boxes, saw that it was full of money, was shocked witless, then opened the other two, found the same th
ing, panicked, and lit out. I bet you five dollars if you hit the redial button on his phone, he made a call to his other brother. They are probably meeting somewhere as we speak, or they’re on a plane to God knows where. If they’re driving, they ditched their cars, picked up another one, and could be anywhere. When things like this happen, the parties involved start to think like criminals. They’re plotting and planning and anticipating. Hey, they could be on their way to Mexico. They could really get lost there. What do you think?”

  “It sounds…more than believable.” One long arm reached up for the phone on the nightstand. Nathan pulled it off and hit the redial button. The phone rang on the other end of the line twenty times before he hung up. He craned his neck to see the numbers on the caller ID. “The area code is 619. That’s Chula Vista, California. I know it because I have a cousin who lives there. You can cross the border into Tijuana in fifteen minutes from where he lives. Our guy here is probably meeting the brother there, and from that meeting place, they’re lost to us. That leaves us back at square one. What do you want to do now, Detective?”

 

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