I remember the time I got Marilyn to fork over eight thousand to bail me out of credit card debt. We’d been going out for over a year, but asking her at least ten times for the money had gotten me nowhere. She wanted me to work things out, go to one of those debt managers and have them help get a payment plan in place.
No way I’d do that. Even if they negotiated a lower interest rate on what I owed, it would take years to pay it off. Meanwhile, I’d be living like a pauper. It pissed me off to no end that she refused to help, saying whatever savings she had were illiquid. I couldn’t argue with that if it was true.
When she went to work the next day, I sneaked a look at her bank statements, which said she had over thirty-five thousand in savings, with twelve K of it in cash. When she got home I asked for a loan again. When she refused, I precipitated an argument.
After dinner, I disappeared, telling her I was meeting a friend and came home well after midnight. She was steamed. I scrawled a telephone number and name on the back of a business card, jammed it in my pants pocket, and put the jeans in the hamper.
The following evening, Marilyn began peppering me with questions about who’d I gone out with. I played into her fears by being general. It was fun pulling her around. What really got her going was the two times I set off my phone’s ringtone. Each time I looked at the number and got up from the couch, whispering. When she questioned me about the calls, I said it was a just some friend from work.
Marilyn was on edge, and keeping a distance from her since we’d argued over the money was having the desired effect, but what sealed it was the receipt for a dozen roses I’d left on the counter. She confronted me, and when I confirmed a liaison, she broke down.
She wanted to know why, and I turned the money thing into a trust issue. It went as I’d scripted it, and before we went to bed, she’d written me a check.
***
I kept moving from the lanai to the front of the house. I called and texted Robin, but the bitch didn’t answer. It was such a beautiful night; it’d be a shame to waste it. The sky was streaked with purple and pink overtones as daylight ebbed away. Perfect for a ride. After changing, I jumped into my car, pulled onto 41, and headed toward Venetian Village, hoping it wouldn’t be too touristy.
When I crossed Pine Ridge I made a U-turn. I was dressed real nice, and I was so close, I might as well take a drive by Robin’s place—you never know. I swung onto her street. What’s that, a Beemer in the driveway? Who the hell has a white Beemer?
I parked across the street and stared at her house. Whoever was there with her was in the family room, as the lights were on. When I realized the TV wasn’t on, I got out and made like I was walking down the street to get a closer look. A figure passed by the big double window. It looked like a guy, but I couldn’t be sure.
Then an idea hit me and I jumped back in my car and drove to the Thai-sushi joint on 41, right off Vanderbilt. I picked up a spicy tuna roll and an order of pad Thai—Robin loved the combination of noodles and crushed peanuts—and I headed back to her house.
I don’t know what pissed me off more, the sexy black dress she was wearing, or the frown. It went downhill from there.
“Dom, what are you doing here?”
“I was grabbing a bite to eat at the Thai place and thought I’d bring you over a tuna roll and the noodle dish you love.” I opened the top of the bag and the peanut sauce wafted up.
“We ate already.”
No thank you? And who was we?
“Oh, I didn’t realize you had company.” I craned my neck to see inside.
A male voice called out, “Rob, everything okay?”
Rob? I wanted to shout out that things were definitely not okay, but Robin turned toward the foyer and said, “I’ll be right there.” Then she said to me, “Look, this is a bit uncomfortable. I’ve got company, and I’m sorry, but I have to ask you to leave.”
“Leave? Really? A day ago, you’re crying on my shoulder about the cops busting your balls over the insurance money, and now I’m persona non-grata?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Yeah? Then what’s it like?”
“I said I’ve got company.”
“Who’s here?”
“A friend from work.”
“Does this friend have a name?”
“Please, Dom, let’s stop the bullshit. I don’t have to answer to you.”
“I try to do a good deed, and this is what I get?”
“Nobody asked you to do it.”
I seethed, and it must’ve been the steam coming out of my ears that prompted her to say, “What you did was very sweet, Dom. I appreciate the gesture, but tonight it just doesn’t work for me.”
Or Mr. Office Worker.
“So, when’s it gonna work for you?”
“Come on, Dom. Why don’t you give me a call tomorrow? Okay?”
And just like that she closed the door. I wanted to throw the bag against the door, but instead I left it right on the front deck. Knowing it’d be overrun with bugs in twenty minutes or less gave me a tiny dose of revenge.
I sat in my car, throwing more fumes off than a twenty-year diesel, waiting for the clown to leave. By the time it hit nine thirty, the thought that this guy could be staying over put me in a panic. I leaned on the horn three times, but the only thing it brought out was a neighbor who threatened to call the cops.
As I drove home I called her cell four times, but every time it went straight to voice mail. Screw her; I dialed Melissa.
Chapter 26
Luca
I hung up the phone and shook my head. Did I miss it? Damn it. It was a fundamental, you dummy, and you never considered it? How could I have missed it? The clues were in plain sight. You knew the wife was a first-class type A. The husband disappears without a trace, and you forgot to ask about any life insurance? Mistake number one.
It took a tip from Stewart about the dough Robin was gonna collect. I didn’t like the source, but information is information. Now she’s in the crosshairs for a while. That’s the textbook path to take.
I rolled around the investigation into the insurance procurement and benefits. There were flags, not red, but pink. How could I be so focused on her that I didn’t even explore an alternative?
Was I losing my edge? Even though I felt good, despite all the bullshit I went through and was still going through, especially with my private parts, I knew deep down that the sickness changed me. How could it not? Funny thing is, I no longer saw things as black and white anymore; there was gray in life these days. Yet with the Gabelli case, I’d been looking at things as either-or.
How the hell did I miss not considering that the Gabellis planned this together? As I considered it, the possibility they conspired together blossomed. Such a conspiracy could take multiple forms:
Phil would disappear and Robin would collect the insurance. Then, after a period, Robin would disappear and join Phil wherever he was. Or Robin would collect, stay put, but split the money with Phil. Maybe Phil wanted to take off and assuaged his guilt with the money Robin would get. Or, who knows, maybe all the talk about marital problems was nothing more than a classic misdirection.
If the philandering turned out to be nonsense, I’d have to consider turning my badge in. Maybe get an inside desk job to be sure I got my pension. The union would help me. I’d use the health card. It’d be easy, as long as I could swallow my pride.
A conspiracy sure answered the questions about why there was a policy only on Phil and why they passed on the accidental death doubler, not to mention the second-to-die option. But I wasn’t sold that it solved the crime. Conspiracies are tough to pull off in general, but when it revolves around a so-called missing person, it gets zillions of times harder. Where can anyone really hide today, especially with three million bucks and a lifestyle in the upper echelon? In today’s world, you can’t pick your nose without it being on Facebook.
Knowing all that di
dn’t make me feel any better. It was the fact I never even considered it that shook me to my core. Rocking my boat further was the fact the new lead came from none other than Dom Stewart.
Was this guy playing with me? He was the one who dropped the dime on the three-million-dollar insurance payout. Why didn’t he tell us earlier that Phil had mentioned the life insurance scheme to him? Was Stewart some sicko watching the playout of the investigation? Did he have his eyes on Robin, and if he didn’t get his way he’d sink her? If he knew about it, then he’d be a coconspirator. Hold on, hold on, Luca, you’re running wild.
They’d had an affair, fling, encounter, whatever. He wanted back in, according to Robin. Only way that happens is if she leaves her husband or the husband is out of the picture. He gains nothing from an insurance scheme where Robin and Phil split the dough. Stewart can’t be involved, but why the drip, drip of information? Even that gal down in the Caribbean, why did he wait to tell us about her?
Could be that’s the way this guy rolls. He was tight with Gabelli and is having a tough time threading the needle. I could sympathize with him, as I’d always covered for my buddies. I’d never bury a crime, but I’d have covered the screwing around that Gabelli was doing if he were my buddy, like JJ.
I wonder what JJ would have to say about all this. Can’t imagine my ex-partner and me not exploring it. We always made sure we looked under every bed.
How come Vargas never brought up the possibility? She was a good cop but not half as good as JJ. Partners look out for each other; we fill in each other’s missing parts. Damn it, Vargas, why couldn’t you have said something?
As if to defend her integrity, the door swung open and it was Vargas. I wasn’t looking forward to telling my partner the latest.
Vargas wasn’t upset at the development. Said it was progress and needed to be followed up. It may have been my reaction or the puss on my face, but she surprised me by saying it was silly and counterproductive to beat myself up over it. Of course, she was right, but I didn’t like it one damn bit.
We debated whether to have Robin come down for questioning on our turf against the merits of surprising her at home. Vargas suggested we double-team her at her office, and I tried to hide that I was pissed that I hadn’t thought of the idea. Was this more evidence of my slipping?
Chapter 27
Luca
The receptionist was playing solitaire and snapped her laptop shut when we flashed our badges. We told her we were there to see Robin Gabelli, and before she could call her, Robin walked into the lobby with the bathroom key.
She looked like she’d seen a horror movie but gave a quick shake of her head and recovered. She was good.
Her smile spread wider than the moon when she said, “What a nice surprise to see you. What can I help you with?”
Had this been the first time I’d met her I’d have bought into her Southern charm.
“We have a few things we need your help clarifying.”
“I’d be happy to help. Let’s go to my office.”
Robin showed us into an office with a huge window that overlooked a courtyard with a fountain. Her credenza had a couple of awards and one picture of her and Phil. Her hospital-sterile desktop had a plexiglass in-box and a solitary pen on it, not a thing else.
She dialed back the hospitality. “What did you want to know?”
I said, “We’d like to go over the insurance thing.”
“But I thought I answered all your questions. Believe me, I know how it looks, but despite that, it’s all legitimate.”
Vargas said, “We understand you received the insurance payout.”
“Well, yes. They paid the benefit in accordance with the policy.”
Vargas asked, “And what did you do with the money?”
“I don’t think I have to answer that, as it’s really none of your business, but I want to cooperate with you. The proceeds were deposited in the bank.”
I weighed in, “A joint account?”
“What do you mean?”
I followed, “An account you had with your husband or just you?”
Vargas added, “Or an account with another person.”
“I don’t understand why you’re asking. It really is none of your business.”
I said, “I’ll get a court order and make it my business, Mrs. Gabelli.”
Robin gave me a look that had frost hanging from it. I didn’t know if it was the court order or that I had addressed her formally.
She said, “Look, all along I’ve put up with a lot of innuendoes from the police. I didn’t complain because I just wanted to know where my Phil was. But you’re pushing the limits of my patience.”
Vargas said, “Are you going to answer?”
“I think it’s time to get my lawyer involved.”
I cocked my head to Vargas and got up. Right before I opened the door I turned around and asked, “Did you and your husband plan his disappearance to collect the insurance money?”
Robin shook her head and flashed her whites. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
I said, “A friend of Mr. Gabelli’s has come forward saying that your husband confided in him about a plot to have him disappear and cash in on the life insurance policy.”
She blinked her eyes twice. “And who said that?”
“We’re not at liberty to disclose that,” Vargas replied.
***
Vargas slammed the car door. “I don’t like her one bit.”
Was there a tinge of jealousy in that? I pulled out of the parking space. “She’s composed, you have to give her that.”
“She’s a phony. Playing us for fools.”
I said, “Don’t get me wrong, she’s shifty, but I don’t think they did it together.”
“You think she’s innocent?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think the two of them planned it.”
“We’re talking three million dollars, Frank.”
“I’m not saying she didn’t do anything, just that getting away with something like that, I don’t know, she just doesn’t have the personality to pull something like this off.”
“Oh, so now you’re a psychoanalyst?”
“Just my gut, Vargas, just my gut. I don’t want to brag, but most times it’s a heck of lot better than some head quack, and much better than using a horoscope.”
“Very funny.”
“Let’s keep our eyes on the money. If any or all of it moves, that’ll tell us.”
“Maybe, but the problem is she can take off and move the money after she’s gone. They can move money around like lightning these days.”
“But if she sends half to Phil Gabelli and stays around we’ll never know. We should get a court order to watch her account.”
“I wish it were so easy. No court’s gonna give it without more evidence of a conspiracy.”
Chapter 28
Stewart
“No matter what happens, it is within my power to turn it to my advantage.” - Epictetus
Waterside was my favorite place to shop. They had every high-end store in the world. I couldn’t wait to be able to shop at Ferragamo. They’re the top of line, even better than all the other luxury shops in Waterside.
I headed past the water feature after leaving Saks. It was not my favorite, but my Nordstrom’s card was maxed out and I wasn’t getting embarrassed again. Time to drop my bags in the car and grab something to eat.
Pausing at the curb, I looked left to make sure no car was coming. What? Sitting at a high-top table on the sidewalk at Brio was Robin and that frigging guy from work. She had a drink in her hand and was leaning over the table talking.
Mr. Office Guy had blue chino pants and a Tommy Bahama shirt on. Give me a break, man, the Tommy Bahama craze ended a decade ago. I couldn’t believe she was with someone like him. This guy had his legs crossed like some Ivy Leaguer. Who crosses their legs at a high-top table? No doubt this guy was a sti
ff. What the hell was she doing with him?
Could it be just a business thing? If so, why was Robin smiling like a cheerleader? I got to my car, threw my newly purchased clothes in the trunk, and pulled out of the space. I circled the lot for another spot. Why is this lot always so frigging packed?
A car was backing out of a spot with a decent sight line of Brio. I pulled in. A black-aproned waiter was setting down plates. I couldn’t tell if Robin got the Mahi salad she usually ordered. Damn, there was a bottle of wine on the table. Was that there before?
They were doing more talking than eating. I took a swig of water to wash down the bile running up the back of my throat. As I capped the bottle, a busboy cleared their table. Mr. Office Man signaled for the check, raising my spirits.
The check came, Mr. Office Man put some cash down and they got up. As they walked out, I did a double take. They were holding hands. What the hell was going on? They stopped at the valet area. This guy valets his car at a mall? I jumped out of the car and made a beeline for the valet station.
Robin’s smile collapsed into a frown as I approached. She took a baby step away from her date. Ah-ha, she knew she was doing something wrong. I almost got hit by a valet driver in a Bentley.
She said, “Oh, hi, Dom.”
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean? We just had dinner.”
Mr. Office Man said to Robin, “Is everything all right?”
“Mind your own business,” I said to him, and then to her, “I called you ten times. You never got back to me.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s been crazy at work.”
I looked at her date and said, “You’re telling me.”
Her date said, “Look, I don’t know what you want, but I’d ask you to please leave us alone.”
“Shut up and stay out of this or you’ll regret it.”
“Dom! Come on now. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
Vanished: A Luca Mystery - Book 2 Page 9