Duplicity

by Ingrid Thoft

  “Are you missing your bodyguard?”

  “Nah. I really am a lone wolf.”

  The statement hung between them, Fina realizing it was ripe for interpretation.

  “It may have been that guy in particular,” Cristian said. “You could try someone else.”

  “He was good at his job. I just didn’t like having him around.” On the TV, a bleached blonde was crying, and a man stood behind her, peering over her shoulder. His face was crimped with emotion. Did anyone actually have conversations that way in real life? “Did I mention that I got a couple of anonymous letters?”

  Cristian stared at her. “No. You didn’t ‘mention’ that you got a couple of anonymous letters. I’m guessing they were of the threatening nature.”

  “They weren’t fan mail, that is true.” Fina reached into her bag and pulled out the two letters.

  “Way to preserve evidence,” he commented, taking them from her.

  “’Cause you have the resources to run a DNA profile on the saliva? I’m sure that’s at the top of the department’s to-do list.”

  Cristian studied them for a moment. “Any ideas?” he asked, handing them back to her.

  “Not really, but I find it hard to believe that the same person is putting out a contract on me and sending me these arts and crafts projects.”

  “Or that’s what he or she wants you to believe.”

  “Yes, that’s always a possibility.” Fina tucked them back into her bag. “I’m just sharing them with you in the spirit of full disclosure.”

  “Full disclosure means you share things in a timely fashion.”

  “Can’t you just be happy that I shared at all?” Fina pleaded.

  “Under-promise and over-deliver? Is that your approach?” He pushed himself up and offered his hand to her.

  “Exactly.”

  Cristian escorted her upstairs to the lobby. “I’ll see you later,” he said stiffly, keeping his distance.

  It made sense to keep their evolving relationship under wraps for the time being, but if it was going to become a thing, people would have to know—people like cops. Fina wondered if Cristian had really considered the implications of that news flash.

  “Always a pleasure, Detective,” Fina called out after him.

  • • •

  On the way home, Fina ducked into an office supply store and purchased a large desk blotter calendar that featured a page per month. At home, she taped the calendar pages for the previous three months onto the living room wall. She pulled up the e-mail from Evan and plotted the dates he had provided of Nadine’s illness. Without any context, the information wasn’t particularly helpful, so she sent him an e-mail asking for a copy of Nadine’s schedule.

  Next, Fina turned to the issue of Jimmy Smith. A search in an online paid database netted dozens of James Smiths in the Boston area. She was able to whittle the list down to thirty-seven by looking for white guys in their twenties, but the field was still too large. Rather than traipse around the eastern part of the state, she’d put out some feelers with her contacts and see if that netted any results.

  Fina typed in the address for the Covenant Rising website and checked out the event schedule for the week. In a few hours there was an informational meeting about the church’s Frontier Fund. Fina picked up the phone and dialed Chloe’s number.

  “Chloe? It’s Fina Ludlow. Do you have a moment?”

  “Sure. How are you?”

  “Good, and you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I wondered if you knew much about the church’s Frontier Fund.”

  “I haven’t been involved in it. Why?”

  “There’s an informational meeting tonight at the church, and I thought I might go and learn more about it.”

  “Because you’re interested in supporting it?” Chloe asked doubtfully.

  “Because you keep telling me about the church’s good works. Do you want to join me?”

  Chloe consulted her calendar, and they agreed to meet at Covenant Rising. The listing promised snacks, which Fina knew was the key to a good turnout at any event.

  “I’ll see you there,” she said before hanging up.

  Her RMV contact had called while Fina was on the line. She called her back and made the request for information on Gabby’s parking lot friend.

  Fina knew it would cost her, but nothing came free in her line of work.

  TWENTY-TWO

  A couple of hours later, Fina slipped into a seat next to Chloe in the Covenant Rising parish hall. There were about two dozen people sprinkled amid the pews. A screen had been deployed from the ceiling, and soft conversations buzzed around the room.

  “Where are the promised snacks?” Fina asked quietly.

  “Over there.” Chloe gestured to the side of the room.

  “Can I get you some?”

  “If there’s crudité, I’ll have some of that.”

  Fina touched her arm.

  “What is it?” Chloe asked.

  “I’m just checking that you’re real. I’ve heard there are people who choose to eat crudité, I’ve just never met any in the flesh.”

  Chloe smiled. “We exist. We aren’t like unicorns and leprechauns.”

  Fina squeezed by and walked over to assess the options. She made two small plates. One was heavy on crudité, dip, cheese, and crackers. The other was dominated by the sweet offerings, including a lemon bar, two Hershey’s kisses, and a peanut butter cookie. She balanced the plates and two cups of water in her hands and returned to her seat.

  They were chatting and nibbling when Pastor Greg stopped by their pew. “I’m surprised to see you here, Fina.”

  “I keep hearing about your good works, so I made a sizable contribution on the website.”

  Chloe looked pleased. “I didn’t think you were serious.”

  “As a heart attack, Pastor Greg.”

  He looked at her, but reined in his response, presumably in deference to Chloe’s presence. “Chloe, how are you?”

  “I’m well. And you, Pastor?”

  “Very well. Thank you.”

  “Is Gabby here?” Fina asked.

  “Yes. I think she’s catching up with some members. If you’ll excuse me.”

  A few moments later, Gabby appeared and joined Greg at the front. Fina did a quick scan of the room and caught sight of Gabby’s young friend, the owner of the Ford Fiesta. He was seated a couple of rows behind them, off to the side.

  Greg and Gabby led a prayer and then a film came to life on the large screen. It seemed to Fina to be a long-form version of those commercials that run on late-night TV, the ones that try to guilt you into donating a dollar a day to change the life of a disadvantaged child in some godforsaken country on the other side of the globe. She knew that these children existed, and that their needs were real, but she couldn’t draw a clear line from the Frontier Fund to an improved standard of living. Proselytizing and conversion seemed to be at the heart of the campaign, and those weren’t things you could eat.

  The other thing that bothered Fina about the pitch was the absence of Covenant Rising members on the ground in Africa. There were plenty of white missionaries in the film, but Fina couldn’t be sure that any of them actually worked for the church. Did that mean there was an intermediary, another organization that did the fieldwork, and if so, how much of the fund went to supporting their operation?

  The lights went up twenty minutes later, and Fina noticed that some of the viewers were dabbing at their eyes and sniffling. Pastor Greg opened the floor to questions and what followed was a flurry of praise and admiration for him and Gabby. One woman asked about the medical care provided for the children, but it wasn’t exactly a hardball question. Fina knew that she had to tread lightly. She didn’t want to offend Chloe or alienate her, but she had some legitimate questions t
hat she’d ask of any charity, not just Covenant Rising.

  “Pastor Greg,” Fina said after he’d steadfastly ignored her raised hand. “Could I ask a question?”

  He adopted a grimace masquerading as a smile. “Of course.”

  “Have you and Gabby visited the orphanage to see your good works firsthand?”

  “We’d like nothing more, but we haven’t had the opportunity as of yet.”

  “Have any of the Covenant Rising members made the trip?”

  “No, but it is on the agenda.” He scanned the room. “Any other questions? Well, then,” he said, aborting any attempts at further discussion, “thanks so much for coming. There are donation envelopes on the table, or you can do it online.”

  He strode up the aisle, leaving Gabby to chat with some congregants.

  “I didn’t realize the scope of their work,” Chloe commented. Fina murmured appropriate responses and trained her eye on Gabby. She was exchanging surreptitious glances with the young man. The parish hall started emptying out, and Gabby greeted a few other members before arriving at their pew.

  “Thanks, Gabby,” Chloe said. “That was really informative.”

  “You’re so welcome, Chloe. Fina.” She nodded in greeting.

  “You must be anxious to visit the orphanage,” Fina said, “since you’re such a dedicated mom.”

  “I do love the little ones,” she said, smiling beatifically.

  “Well, it won’t be like home,” Fina continued. “I don’t think they have the same creature comforts we do, like running water. I’m sure you don’t even notice it after a couple of days.”

  Gabby’s smile dimmed.

  “That part of western Africa doesn’t have a strong infrastructure,” Chloe commented.

  “Whatever the good Lord wants us to do, we’ll do,” Gabby said.

  “I think you have to use a latrine in the middle of the night,” Fina said.

  “There’s a lot of wildlife,” Chloe piped up innocently. “When we were on safari in that area, you needed an armed guide to escort you at night to ward off a big-game attack.”

  “That must have been scary,” Fina said, thrilled that Chloe’s worldliness was coming in handy.

  “I’m sure Pastor Greg will take all of those things into consideration and determine what’s best for the church,” Gabby said, looking beyond them. “It was good to see you both.”

  “I have a little trouble picturing Gabby in the wild,” Fina admitted to Chloe as they walked through the parking lot.

  Chloe’s eyes widened. “I don’t think she’s looking forward to making that trip.”

  “Nope.”

  The thing about Africa was that it was very far away. You could do all kinds of wonderful projects there. Or not.

  And who would be the wiser?

  • • •

  Fina left Dante a message asking if he ever crossed paths with a Jimmy Smith, and she also inquired when her car might be fixed. She was growing tired of the loaner.

  Since the family dinner at the club, Fina hadn’t been able to ignore the increasing dread she felt about Matthew’s new girlfriend and her young daughter. She didn’t think she was being paranoid, worrying about the child’s well-being, but reinforcements were required if she was going to make a case against Rand, and she wanted to hash out a strategy with Scotty.

  She kept an eye out as she made the drive, and Fina didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Lights blazed in Scotty and Patty’s house, but the driveway was empty. Either the cars were in the garage or the family was out, with little regard for their electric bill and the earth’s dwindling natural resources. Fina rang the bell, but there was no answer. She couldn’t easily peek into the house at the front, so she decided to walk around back and see if the drapes were open in the great room.

  Fina followed the path to the backyard. It was edged with large arborvitae, which provided a natural screen from the neighbors. The patio furniture was safely packed away, and the outdoor kitchen with its high-end grill was still wearing its winter coat. A taut cover stretched across the pool.

  A loud crack, like a branch being snapped in two, startled her. She sensed movement out of the corner of her eye and reached for her gun, but it was too late. A man knocked her down, her head striking the cold, wet grass and narrowly avoiding the stone pool-deck. She fought to free her hand and keep the gun in her holster; she didn’t want to struggle for the weapon with her assailant on top of her. Either she needed a clear shot or no shot at all. She’d rather take her chances in an old-fashioned fight than get shot with her own gun.

  His first punch landed on the side of her eye, and Fina grunted. He reared up slightly in preparation to strike her again. She kicked him in the groin, and he momentarily loosened his grip on her. Fina scuttled out from under him, but he grabbed her leg and punched her in the stomach. She staggered back, but stayed upright as he got to his feet.

  There was a brief moment, a second before he reached his full height, and Fina knew it was her only chance. She tightened her abs and curled forward, smashing the hard bone at the crest of her head against the man’s nose. He cried out in pain, and blood poured from his nostrils. Stepping backward, he tripped and landed on the pool cover. Fina pulled back her leg and kicked him in the ribs. She reached into her jacket, but was distracted by a light turning on in the kitchen, her attention briefly pulled in the other direction. Her assailant crawled to the edge of the pool on all fours and through the trees into the dark. Gun in hand, Fina watched him disappear into the shadows.

  She hobbled over to the grill area and leaned against the counter. Teddy was visible in the window of the great room. She took some deep breaths and briefly contemplated walking over and knocking on the window, but was worried she’d scare the shit out of her young nephew. Instead, she returned to her car.

  Her dread had been replaced with actual pain, not a fair trade in her estimation.

  • • •

  “You should have called Cristian,” Milloy scolded her. He applied a bag of frozen peas to her head, and she winced.

  “Oww.” They were sitting on her couch.

  “Do you think you broke a rib?” he asked, gently running his hand over her midriff, which was already discolored.

  “I think he was going for my kidney.”

  “You need to get checked out.”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” she said, avoiding his disapproving gaze. “If I go to the ER now, there are going to be all kinds of questions.”

  “And what’s wrong with that?”

  “I need to think about it before I involve the cops.”

  “What’s the downside to involving the cops?”

  Fina adjusted the peas. “Cristian would find out, and I’d have to make a statement and say that it happened at Scotty’s house, which would then involve him. It would get out of my control very quickly.”

  “It’s already out of your control.”

  “Is there anything to eat? I could really use some comfort food.”

  Milloy got up from the couch and retreated to the kitchen.

  “Thanks for coming over,” she called after him.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He returned a moment later with two spoons and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Cake Batter ice cream. Fina lifted her legs, and he sat down and pulled them onto his lap. He handed her a spoon laden with ice cream.

  “Maybe you should rethink that bodyguard,” Milloy suggested.

  “Maybe. Kind of like closing the barn door after the horse is out.”

  “Unless he’s planning to do it again. Or worse.”

  “I realize he may not be done. He was supposed to beat me up, and frankly, in my defense, this doesn’t really qualify.”

  He peered at her. “I guess it’s all relative.”

  “Indeed.”

 
“Cristian is going to figure it out when he sees you with a shiner.”

  Fina held out her spoon, and he passed the pint to her. “I’ll burn that bridge when I cross it.”

  “Ahh. Something to look forward to.”

  Fina handed the ice cream back to him and closed her eyes.

  She’d assumed that encountering her assailant would be the end of her troubles, but it might just be the beginning.

  • • •

  Fina awoke to a painful reality. Rolling over was a mistake. So was stretching her limbs and sitting up. Basically, moving was a bad idea.

  She did some simple stretches under a hot shower and tried to get the blood pumping. Her torso was sporting a deep purple bruise the size of a salad plate. Examining herself in the mirror, she was pleased that the blow to her face had glanced off her eye. Most of the damage was around her temple, which was less noticeable than a standard black eye would be, though still obvious.

  Milloy had taken off early for an appointment, but he’d left her a note suggesting she eat a couple of the hard-boiled eggs he’d made for her and some toast and fruit. She peeled the eggs and slathered them with salt and butter, but toast and fruit seemed unnecessary; she didn’t want to shock her system. Fina was craving a diet soda, which she took into the living room, where she checked her messages.

  Shirley, her contact at the Registry, had called as had Risa. She’d contacted Kelsey DeMarco’s mother and gotten her daughter’s contact info, including her place of employment. Fina tapped out a text to Risa praising her stellar investigative chops and then dialed Shirley’s number. As she navigated her way through the Registry phone tree, she watched a tanker making its way across the harbor.

  “Hello.”

  “Shirley, it’s Fina Ludlow returning your call.”

  “Right. Let me find the info.”

  Fina heard papers shuffling on the other end of the line. It wasn’t legal for Shirley to provide the information, but most organizations and companies had people who were willing to disclose private information for the right price. Fina wasn’t proud that she was a part of this black market economy, but her job would be much harder if she opted out of it.