Fatal Chances (The Red Lake Series Book 5)

by Rich Foster

  Harry slammed his fist against the steering wheel. A car honked and twenty years on he was back in Red Lake. It honked again and he saw a gap in traffic ahead. He rolled forward to close the gap.

  Rico Marcelli received a message he found disconcerting. Vito Donatello demanded to speak with him. More than one person died for having shown such impudence. He placed the call.

  "You have put us in an unfortunate situation. Your actions have troubled our business partner, affected inventory supply, and put management in an awkward situation."

  "I made a mistake. But you have the girl. Send her home. Things will return to normal."

  "There is a problem with that. One, I do not have her or know where she is. Two, I do not think our mutual acquaintance is willing to forgive and forget."

  "Well then make him!"

  Marcelli resented both being ordered and the mans gall.

  "Perhaps, I will simply tell him you have his treasure and the two of you can sort it out."

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you. If something happens to me, you will go down too. Even if I am dead, papers that will destroy you will be given to those who could make the most of them."

  Donatello moved beyond fear as he spoke and felt the heady rush of having power over a powerful man.

  It was the threat Marcelli expected. It was of no small concern. The package that Barton Dirk restored to his possession contained a surprising range of documents that would do everything that Donatello threatened.

  "What do you suggest, sir?" The more polite Marcelli's words, the more dangerous they were for the recipient.

  "I say live and let live. I stay out of Las Vegas and we both forget we ever knew each other."

  "But you, sir, would always hold the Sword of Damocles over my head."

  "The what...?" Donatello asked being no scholar.

  Marcelli rephrased his statement. "You would have a hold on me."

  "By the short hairs, buddy. But you have me by the balls too. If we both keep quiet we'll all be better off."

  Marcelli wanted to kill Donatello, now more than ever. But he would wait.

  "Very well. You are free. Let me be clear. If you ever come here again, we will show our displeasure in the hardest of ways. If I should go down because you foolishly talk, you also destroy your nephew Mr. Tagliero, and any other relatives that still breathe. Am I clear?"

  "Capish."

  Back in Red Lake, sweat covered Donatello's brow by the time he hung up. But he had faced down Marcelli, and shown he had brass balls. Vito felt sure they would be afraid to mess with him.

  In Las Vegas, after the call, Rico Marcelli sat at his desk barely moving. At last he picked up the phone and pressed redial for the last call from Barton Dirk. There was no answer, but when given the chance to leave a message he did.

  "If you can recover the original policy I will buy it for fifty thousand dollars. I will double that amount if upon finding the policy you could take care of the underwriter."

  *

  Harry's office phone warbled. He answered.

  "Grim Investigations, Harry speaking."

  "He's back!" A hysterical voice hissed, reminding him of Jack Nicholson in The Shining.

  "Who's back? And who is this?"

  "It's Julia!"

  "Don't you mean Jillian?"

  "I mean Julia," she hissed, "if he finds out I'm not her, I'm afraid he'll try to kill me."

  "Harvey's alive?"

  "Yes, and he's downstairs," she whispered into the phone." He already tried to get me once and I'm sure he'll try again."

  "How?"

  "Back on the cruise, the night he disappeared, he drugged my drink." Harry could not but feel he was being spun more fiction. "I noticed stuff in my wine and avoided whatever he had planned. But now I'm scared to eat or drink anything in my own house'!"

  "Why don't you call the police?"

  "I can't do that. He'd be the laugh of the town, I mean living with your dead wife's sister for four months? Who'd believe he didn't know? The only way out of this is for someone to talk some sense into him, convince him that his political future depends on keeping this quiet. Failing that, then someone needs to beat it into him. You could handle that. You owe me Grim!"

  It was probably petty spite and a warped sense of humor that made him say it, but he did, "Okay, I'll come down, but you have to pay for that bounced check fee."

  "God you are an ass. Okay, whatever. I'll fuck you if that's what it takes, just get down here!"

  "I'll be there in an hour."

  As he climbed the pass south of Red Lake Harry wondered how he could have ever been fooled by her. The Julia he took up with and the Jillian that was now revealing herself were completely different in their manner, style, even tone of voice. He marveled, To some degree, for a period of time, Jillian really had become Julia.

  He stopped at the top of the pass before he lost signal in the deep turns on the Beaumont side. Harry called Sheriff Gaines.

  "Harvey Stockman is back."

  "Really, And where's he been?" Gaines was only mildly interested.

  "I don't know, Julia..., I mean Jillian just called. She's in a panic."

  Gaines made sounds like the opening of Bonanza. "Berump berrump berump, bah, bah dah dah! Harry Grim to the rescue."

  "Very funny."

  "I guess we don't have to sit on her identity anymore."

  "She wants me to talk him into a quiet divorce so to speak. He goes his way without being laughed at and she goes hers without him strangling her."

  Gaines laughed. "Well if he does at least its outside my jurisdiction. Good luck Harry."

  He pulled back on the highway, Traffic was light, other than a delay behind a logging truck the trip went quickly. Entering Beaumont he thought it ironic that having thought he'd never be back to the Raven's Croft he was already returning. As he turned in between the dysfunctional wrought iron gates, he half expected to see squad cars in front of the Stockman house, but it was as quiet and lifeless as the whole sub-division.

  "Mr. Grim? What are you doing here?" Harvey Stockman asked once he realized who was at the door.

  "I might ask the same thing."

  Stockman chuckled, That's a good one. Why don't you come in?"

  In the entry hall Harvey called up the stairs, "Julia honey! We have company."

  Harry followed him through the house into the kitchen. "Anything to drink?"

  Harry shrugged, "Sure, give me a coke. But I'd rather hear what happened to you."

  "Why don't I get Julia down here. She's been in shock. I'm afraid she thought I was a ghost when she opened the door. We haven't really talked yet, she said she needed to rest first. I believe she has just woken up."

  Harvey returned with the drink and sat down on the sofa, Harry took the wing back chair. When Julia entered a moment later Harvey patted the cushion next to him and said, "Have a seat, honey."

  She chose a chair safely distanced from both men.

  Harvey cleared his throat and began his tale. "I left Julia to rest in our cabin, the last night of the cruise."

  This was too much for Julia, regardless of her own secrets, "You didn't leave me to rest, you drugged my wine! Fortunately, I noticed my Ambien bottle was open and pills missing, you murderous bastard!"

  This was much closer to the truth than Harvey wished to admit, instead he protested. "Actually my dear, I planned to run off. Originally, the cruise was a trial run to acquaint myself with the ship and the ports she called at but circumstances forced me to alter my plans."

  Harry found the man unbearably pompous but bit his tongue.

  "I admit I was afraid to face our debts, that and the public embarrassment of the inevitable bankruptcy. I thought if you, Julia, slept all night you wouldn't be questioned and if I was presumed dead you would collect the life insurance money."

  "So did you dive overboard? How did you get away?" Harry asked.

  "I arranged with a fisherman in Nassau to follow our ship into inte
rnational waters. I was to signal with a flashlight and he to respond, so I would know he was on hand to rescue me. Then I would dive off and he would pick me up."

  Harry and Julia glance at each other, "And that was it?" he asked Stockman.

  "No, there was a man onboard who I once knew. A man who I suspected bore me a grudge. Completely undeservedly, I might add."

  "That's not completely true Grayson."

  Stockman could not have been more stunned than if Harry hit him with a club. His mouth gaped and closed like a fish out of water.

  "How did you...., I mean who...." he floundered finally finding footing for his thoughts. "I momentarily forgot, you are a detective!" He raised his eyebrows and put too much emphasis on the verb.

  Julia looked at him in confusion, "Who the hell is Grayson?"

  "Julia!" Harvey remonstrated, "Your language! I find it offensive. I know this must be a shock to you but do you need to be crude?"

  Harry wondered if there was something about the house that caused theater to ensue, maybe the ground was cursed or enchanted. He figured Harvey was lying or at least not telling all. It seemed quite possible he meant to kill his wife and disappear or else why leave behind the second passport?"

  "Who is Grayson," she repeated, leaning forward into his personal space.

  "I am or was, Grayson Voight before I entered the Witness Protection program."

  Harry thought Julia was on the verge of passing out. Who knew what scenarios were racing through her brain to account for this development. It was her turn to move her mouth and say nothing. Harry stepped in, "Why don't we return to that issue later, I think there are other issues that will relate to it.

  Harvey's brow's crinkled, puzzled by this comment but he shrugged his shoulders and moved on.

  "I spotted this man looking at me a bit too intently on several occasions during the cruise. And on the night I was to make my escape he followed me toward the lower deck."

  "You mean Stewart Proust, also known as the Armadillo?"

  "I see you have done your homework, Mr. Grim. Yes, it was Stewart and I assumed he wanted me dead. I rushed astern and hurried to signal the fisherman so I would know it was safe to dive off before the Stewart located me on deck. Unfortunately, he did. The flashlight fell from my hand. The Armadillo gave me an incredible beating. He may have thought I was already dead when he pitched me overboard."

  Stockman stopped to take a drink. "I came to floating in the water and watched the lights of the Sterling Princess steaming away. The water was warm, but I saw no other lights in sight. I pulled my pants off and made a float by tying the legs off and scooping air into it. Gradually, it would lose the air and I would need to lift it out of the water and scoop air again. I can tell you it was a long night, wondering if a shark would attack me."

  Harry noticed Julia rolling her eyes. He waved his hand slowly, as if to say 'Be quiet.' Fortunately, she followed his lead.

  "The next day I was picked up by a cruising sailboat heading south. They were planned to bypass the Caribbean Islands due to their high cost of living and not making landfall until they reached Venezuela. I spun a tale about being forced into transporting narcotics in my small plane or see my daughter raped and murdered. And consequently, I was afraid to go to the police. However, I told them that I was forced to ditch in the water when my engine failed. They were quite curious as to the depth of the water where my plane went down and what the cargo might have been, Their acute interest told me they were unlikely to find it difficult bending a few laws. Sadly, they learned I was unable to fix the point of impact, so they hoisted the sail and resumed their passage. During the trip they carefully added my name to the boat's custom documents. When we arrived in Porlamar there was no problems with the Port Captain. I said good-bye to my new friends and disappeared."

  "I suppose you intended to turn up after the insurance company paid." Julia said snidely.

  "Why not darling, it could be a new start for us. And after all, unless I remained dead, you would lose the money."

  Harry thought they made a perfect couple. "So why did you come back?"

  "I made regular inquiries. I did not want Julia to simply disappear with my money. Unfortunately, I was told the claim was denied. In fact it would probably be subject to an interpleader request.

  "A what?"

  "It is a request for the courts to decide who was obligated and who the beneficiary should be. Evidently, UBI thought they had an out. Unfortunately, I could not afford to wait and so I made my way home."

  It was an amazing tale. Most of which Harry figured was true, parts were fiction, and some was outright lies.

  "You don't have any more specifics as to why your claim was refused, do you Julia?"

  Julia squirmed in her seat, so Harry stepped up to bat.

  "That happened because Julia, your wife, is the beneficiary on your life insurance policy, however, this" and he pointed at Julia, "is not your wife. This is your sister-in-law Jillian!"

  Confusion worked at Harvey's face. "Then that means..." he faltered, "That mean's Julia's dead? It was a question of disbelief.

  "She is, I'm sorry."

  A range of emotion worked Stockman's body. Harry prepared to counter if he lost control. Finally anger won the struggle for command of his emotions.

  "You deceitful bitch! How could you?"

  His cultured veneer crumbled. He unleashed his rage and frustration in a verbal barrage at Jillian. "It's your fault! You and your dirty husband! I never should have let her see you."

  Harvey came up out of his seat but faster than one could believe Harry was between him and Jillian. Harvey pushed against Harry's chest, leaned and pointed but his advance was halted.

  "Who's dirty? My husband's not a squealer and a rat. That's the only sort of vermin they take into the program. Who did you screw over?"

  "I can't believe I shared a bed with a dirty whore like you!"

  "Well the feelings are mutual, I'd get better action from a stiff corpse."

  Harry fended and pushed back as Stockman leaned around one side and then the other.

  "Sit down!" he commanded. But when Harvey chose to push hard with both hands, Harry threw a hard undercut and put his whole body into. Harvey folded around the punch like a soft taco shell. He staggered backward and fell back unto the sofa.

  "Thank you. He deserved that." Julia snipped.

  "You, shut up." Harry pointed a finger at her.

  They settled into a pouty silence.

  "There are a lot of things to be explained but most of them are unimportant. And neither of you wants to hear it from the other. So Jillian, you are going to leave."

  "But I need to pack! My clothes! My things!"

  Harry rolled his eyes. "You were dead. Unless you saved the bikini there is not a thing in this house that is yours."

  Jillian pulled herself erect in the chair and sucked in air but her attempt to protest failed under Harry's glare.

  "Your husband has a house at Red Lake if you want to go there I could drop you off. If you prefer to go home I will take you to the airport.. We will talk about it in my vehicle."

  "If you think I am going to..."

  Again Harry's demeanor told her she might actually get a spanking if she continued to act as a petulant five year old. "Mr. Stockman do you mind if she takes the clothes she is wearing?"

  Harvey was only marginally recovered but he managed to shake head and waved one hand toward the door.

  Harry pointed a thumb at the front door. "You, get out!" he said to Jillian. "Wait in my pickup or start walking, have it either way, I don't care."

  Jillian rose, straightened the skirt that wasn't hers, walked to the entry table and picked up her purse.

  "No, no, no!" Harry said, with one curling finger he beckoned her. When she was in front of him he took her purse, pulled out the wallet, and removed the drivers license. The purse he tossed onto the sofa beside Harvey.

  "Do you mind if she stays Julia if she flies home
?"

  Harvey appeared on the verge of being sick. "No, just go for God's sake"

  Harry handed Jillian the drivers license. "What am I suppose to do for money?" she protested.

  "You're dead remember? Go have a joyous reunion with your husband or wait for me outside." Harry put a hand on each shoulder, turned her around toward the front door and gave her a swat on the butt that would send any mare trotting for the stable.

  As the former Stockman's parted, one was rubbing his belly and the other her right bottom cheek. Neither said good-bye.

  Harry looked at Harvey. "We'll talk. I suggest you get drunk and go to bed."

  Harvey looked up with concern his eyes. "Does she know? Does Jillian know my past?"

  "Why do you care?"

  "She might tell Proust I'm alive just for spite!"

  "Don't worry. The Armadillo was run over by a truck last week."

  Harvey's face lit up as if this was the best news he heard in years.

  Jillian pouted inside Harry's pickup.

  He came out minutes later, climbed in the cab and started the big V-8.

  "Where to."

  "I don't know."

  "It's an easy choice, your husbands house in Red Lake or the Beaumont Airport."

  "Can't I go home with you?"

  Harry could just imagine that, he could even imagine Paula deciding to come home a second time, followed by a domestic homicide.

  Jillian continued to wheedle. "How could I stay in the same house where Julia was murdered?"

  "Save it Jillian. Your theatrics won't work on me. You stole her life, hell you banged your sister's husband. It's hard to believe you'd lose any rest sleeping in the house where she died."

  "I can't go back to Vito, he'll murder me. And what about the men who tried to kill me? Are they still around?"

  "Probably in Mexico."

  "Well that is a relief."

  "And they're still angry."

  "It's not my fault. That was Vito's business."