by Ingrid Thoft
“My father asked me to accompany Scotty and a client to a deposition.”
“What case?”
“Talk to Scotty about that. I’m sure there are all kinds of rules governing what we can say.”
“Of course there are. We wouldn’t want anyone’s rights to be violated,” Pitney said with a note of sarcasm.
“No, we wouldn’t. I know you find it inconvenient, but I assume that in general, you’re a fan of the Constitution,” Fina said.
“I am, but you’re right—it’s highly inconvenient.”
Fina sipped the water. Her throat hurt a little when she swallowed, but she didn’t know if that was from the smoke or the hollering.
“So your father told you to drive this car?”
“Yes,” Fina said, eyeing Pitney, “but my father did not try to kill me or my brother or—more importantly—a paying client.”
“Did anyone else know you’d be using that car?”
“I don’t think so. I only found out ten minutes before I picked up the keys, but it was parked close to my car in the garage.”
“So if someone was watching you . . .”
“They’d know I changed cars,” Fina acknowledged.
“Where did you go today?” Pitney asked.
“We were at a law firm in Lynn. Scotty can give you the particulars. We spent about three hours there this morning, then got some lunch and returned for another hour.”
“Did you take the car to get lunch?”
“No,” Fina said. “We walked.”
Pitney tapped her pen against the notebook. “Anybody tail you or seem suspicious?”
Fina considered for a moment whether or not she should tell Pitney about her shadow and the note she’d found in her car. “Not today, and I was keeping an eye out.”
“What do you mean ‘not today’?”
Fina fiddled with the bottle cap. “I’ve been wondering if I have a tail.”
“Since when?”
“The last week or so.”
“Did you get a look at the guy?”
“No,” Fina said, “and that’s why I’m hesitant to tell you. It could have been a coincidence.”
Pitney squinted at her. “You really believe that?”
Fina shrugged. “Not really,” she admitted.
“Was this person on foot? In a car?”
“In a car,” Fina said.
“What about the car? A plate or even a description?”
“A dark sedan with tinted windows. Not the least bit useful, I know.”
Pitney sighed. “What else?”
“What do you mean?”
“Have there been any other threats or strange occurrences?”
Fina studied the gauze on her hand. “There was a note suggesting I mind my own business.”
“Details, please,” Pitney said, shaking her head.
Fina filled her in.
“And it didn’t occur to you to tell me or Cristian?”
“Of course it occurred to me, but there was no point,” Fina insisted. “You weren’t going to find any prints on it. There aren’t any cameras in the area, and as you always tell me, I piss off a lot of people. I didn’t want to waste your time or cause Cristian to worry.”
“How thoughtful of you.” Pitney gestured toward the carcass of the SUV. “Where did you park the car today?”
“In a private garage attached to the building that houses the law firm. I’d have to look at a map to give you the address.” Fina watched the cops directing traffic. “You really think this is related to Liz?”
Pitney shrugged. “You tell me. Who have you pissed off most recently?”
“Oh, Lieutenant. You know that’s a long list.”
“Well, who’s at the top of the list?”
Fina thought for a moment. “I can tell you who I’ve spoken with recently, but no one jumps out as being especially annoyed.”
“Go ahead.”
“Jamie Gottlieb, Kevin Lafferty, Pamela Fordyce, Vikram Mehra, Tasha Beemis-Jones, Kelly Wegner, Dana Tompkins, Gus Sibley.”
Pitney’s pen paused over her notebook. “You haven’t spoken with Dr. Sibley since I told you not to, correct?”
Fina squinted in concentration. “When was that exactly?”
“I specifically told you not to speak to him.” Pitney glared at her.
“I know, but you know me: I’d rather ask for forgiveness later than permission ahead of time.”
“I know, Fina, and it drives me crazy. When did you speak with Gus Sibley?”
Fina took a long drink, trying to put off the inevitable. She wiped her mouth with the blanket before speaking. “Yesterday.”
“Yesterday?”
“That is correct.”
“That’s terrific,” Pitney said. “Just great.”
“I think he tattled on me because he has something to hide,” Fina said.
“That may very well be, but if you annoy him and I have to clean up your mess, it takes me away from the investigation.”
“Or,” Fina protested, “it accelerates the investigation because I’m making him nervous, thereby prompting him to act and possibly make a mistake.”
“Where do you get this stuff?” Pitney looked genuinely perplexed.
“Come on. Don’t tell me that you don’t use witness irritation as a barometer in your investigations. Innocent people generally don’t mind answering questions, even multiple times.”
Before Pitney could answer, Cristian wandered over. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine,” Fina said. “How’s Scotty holding up?”
Cristian glanced back in that direction. “I think he’s shaken up.”
“This is more excitement than he’s used to,” Fina said.
“She got a threatening note,” Pitney said.
“When?” Concern flitted across his face.
“On Friday night. I didn’t want to worry you needlessly,” Fina said.
“It wouldn’t have been needlessly,” Cristian said, his voice rising.
“You two kids can fight about this later,” Pitney said. Even though some of the emergency vehicles had left, the traffic was still bumper-to-bumper. The smoking heap of metal accounted for the curiosity factor, and Fina could feel the eyes of the Boston-bound commuters on her. A tow truck was backing up to the car to haul it away, which would ease the bottleneck.
“The arson bomb squad guys want to talk to you,” Cristian said, his voice laced with a touch of irritation.
“Sure. Did Scotty tell you about his nefarious client and the people she’s suing?”
Cristian gave her a weary smile. “Yes, and we’ll look into them.”
“Good. Everyone assumes the worst about me.”
“You just told me you think someone’s been following you,” Pitney said. Cristian looked at Fina, his face scrunched into a question mark.
“I said it was a hunch, nothing more. You still need to look into Scotty’s client. A thorough investigation and all that.”
The EMT asked them to move away from the ambulance so he could go back to saving lives. Fina, Pitney, and Cristian wandered over to a police department SUV that had arrived on the scene. Scotty was talking with a couple of men, and they asked Fina a number of questions about the appearance and speed of the fire.
“I’m sure you hear this all the time, but it really did happen fast,” she told them. “The whole thing is a bit of a blur.”
“We understand,” the one in command responded. “The physical evidence will tell us more, but we like to get as much information as possible.”
“Of course,” Fina said, and tried to fill in as many blanks as she could. Once they were done, she looked around, realizing she and Scotty were effectively stranded. “Can someone give us a ride downt
own?” Fina asked.
“One of the uniforms will take you,” Pitney said, gesturing to an officer. “We’ll be in touch, and if you think of anything relevant, give your friend here a call.”
“Call me regardless,” Cristian said, giving her a meaningful stare that was supposed to convey both his concern and annoyance.
“Will do,” Fina promised.
She and Scotty followed the cop to his patrol car. “Can I ride up front?” she asked him as Scotty rolled his eyes.
“Sure.” The officer grinned at her. “You’re not in trouble.”
Scotty burst out laughing. “Not yet, but she will be soon.”
17.
“You owe Dad an SUV,” Matthew said when she and Scotty arrived in Carl’s office twenty minutes later.
“Very funny. I need something to eat.” Fina rummaged around in the minibar until she found a can of mixed nuts. She grabbed a soda and took both over to the couch. Matthew watched as she struggled to peel the vacuum seal off the nuts, finally taking pity on her and reaching for the can himself.
“Seriously. How do you manage that?” Matthew sat down on the couch next to her while Scotty grabbed a bottle of scotch and a glass from the bar. He took the chair across from the couch and poured himself a drink. “You borrow the car for one day, and it catches on fire.” Matthew shook his head in amazement.
Fina chewed on a nut and swallowed. “I have no idea how we”—she gestured at Scotty—“managed it.”
“You think it happened because of him?” Matthew asked, looking at their older brother.
“Why not? You guys have a ton of scummy clients.”
“But we don’t get in trouble like you do,” Matthew said. “We associate with our less than desirable clients in an office setting. You’re the one frequenting dens of iniquity.”
Fina stared at him. “I’m sorry. What century are we in?”
Carl strode into the office. When he caught sight of Fina, he tossed some folders on his desk and faced her. “That’s how you end the day? By torching the car?”
“This is like a bad game of Telephone,” Fina said, throwing a handful of nuts into her mouth. She took a moment to chew. “I didn’t torch the car. It erupted in flames, and you shouldn’t discount Scotty as a target. He has plenty of enemies.”
“We’re still out an SUV,” Carl said.
“Yes, but we’re fine, thank you very much for asking, Dad.”
Carl looked at Scotty, who was downing his drink.
“We’re fine,” Scotty agreed.
Carl nodded. “Who do you think is responsible?”
Fina looked at her watch, then glared at him. “It happened less than two hours ago! I haven’t had time to investigate, but I assure you, I’m extremely motivated to find the perpetrator.”
“You missed the six o’clock news, but maybe the local cable news has something on it.” Carl picked up the TV remote from his desk and turned on the large flat-screen.
“This is going to create some major PR,” Scotty commented. Fina gave him the hairy eyeball. “Not that that makes it worth it,” he said.
“I’m tired,” Fina said, closing the can of nuts. “I’m going.”
“Do you need a ride home or anything?” Matthew asked, his concern on some kind of time delay.
“No, I’m good.”
What she needed was a little sympathy, something she would never find in Carl’s office.
—
Maybe her father and her brothers wouldn’t provide much sympathy, but there were people farther west who would.
Frank was planted in his recliner, and Peg was on the couch when she arrived at 56 Wellspring Street.
“I saw you on the news,” he announced.
“I need some ice cream before you grill me,” Fina said. “No pun intended.”
She fixed herself a large serving of Brigham’s chocolate chip and liberally sprinkled it with jimmies. Her heart did a little pitter-patter when she saw the six-pack of diet soda in the fridge. Neither Frank nor Peg drank soda. It was all hers.
“Thank you for the soda, Peg, and the ice cream,” she said as she settled on the couch next to Peg.
“You’re welcome, sweetie.” Peg patted her knee.
“Is this a first for you?” Frank asked.
“A fire?”
“An incendiary device, Fina. Let’s call it what it is. Unless you know that it was only a glitch with the car.”
“That’s highly unlikely. So, yes. It is a first.” She had a bite of ice cream.
“It’s something else.”
“It’s good to have new experiences,” she said. “It keeps you young.”
“Unless it kills you,” Frank commented.
“We’re both fine. I think Scotty was unnerved by the whole thing, but he’ll get over it.”
“Is your hand okay?” Peg asked, eyeing the bandage.
“It’s minor,” Fina said. “Nothing to worry about.”
“What did Carl say about your new experience?” Frank asked.
Fina ate a too-large spoonful of ice cream and paid the price. A cold headache gripped her forehead. “‘What did you do to my car?’ Blah, blah, blah.”
“That’s what insurance is for,” Peg commented. “We’re just glad that you’re okay.”
“Exactly,” Frank agreed.
“Thank you.” Fina took a sip of soda in hopes of moving the lump out of her throat. She knew her reaction was in part because she was tired and the afternoon’s excitement was catching up with her. But it was also nice to have people articulate their pleasure that she was still walking the earth.
“Hey, how was Maine?” she asked.
“It was a little rough getting up there,” Frank said. “They’ve got a lot more snow.”
Fina nodded.
“But you were right about the town,” he said. “It’s a very friendly place.”
“We’ve been invited back,” Peg added.
“You made friends?” Fina asked.
“We pretended that we were considering buying a summer cottage,” she said, “and we hit it off with the owner of the diner, who introduced us to a real estate agent.”
“Oh, a little pretexting,” Fina said, grinning. “How was that, Peg? You didn’t feel too guilty?”
A small smile crept onto Peg’s face. “At first, I felt a little bad, but honestly, it was kind of fun.”
“Aha!”
“We didn’t do any harm,” Peg insisted. “We wasted an hour of people’s time, but let’s be honest: I don’t think they had anything else to do.”
Fina snorted.
“She was very good at it,” Frank said, smiling at his wife. “I was impressed.”
“Did you get any dirt?” Fina asked.
“As you can imagine, the real estate agent was a Chatty Cathy, born and raised in Rockford,” Frank said. “She seemed to know everyone’s business and was happy to share it.”
“Uh-huh.” Fina pressed her fingertip into the stray jimmies lining the bowl.
“We mentioned Greta Samuels and her sister Elizabeth, as if we were friends, and how concerned we were about Greta’s health,” Frank said.
“That was very nice of you.”
“I said I was a nurse,” Peg added, “and how difficult transplants could be, but the agent was very excited to report that Greta had found a donor.”
“What? Since when?” Fina leaned forward on her chair.
“She talked about the donation like it was a done deal.” Frank looked at her.
“Did the agent say who the donor was? Was she referring to Risa?”
Frank and Peg exchanged a glance. “She said the kidney was from a stranger through Maine’s organ donor registry,” he said.
Fina gaped. “You’re kidding.”
“No,” Frank said.
“But she must be talking about Risa. There is no other kidney, as far as Risa or I know.”
“I assumed she was talking about Risa,” Frank said. “For whatever reason, she’s pretending that she’s definitely getting Risa’s kidney, but that it’s coming from a stranger.”
“Why?” Fina asked.
Frank shrugged. “My best guess is that she doesn’t want people to know about Risa.”
“Great.” Fina leaned back, deflated. “That’s just terrific.”
“But just because Greta is saying that doesn’t mean she and Elizabeth never tried to find Risa,” Peg said.
Fina and Frank looked at her with skepticism.
“It does make it seem pretty unlikely, though,” Fina said.
“I suppose,” Peg conceded.
Fina drank some soda. “Wow. I really don’t know where to go with this.”
“Not what you were hoping for, I imagine.” Frank ran his hands down the armrests of his recliner.
“No. I was hoping that you guys would come back with a grand tale about how Risa’s birth family spent their entire lives searching for her. That everyone in the town knew they were tortured by this chapter in their history and knew they wouldn’t rest until she was found.”
“Sorry, hon,” Peg said.
“I can ask Greta more questions about this and so can Risa,” Fina said, “but what’s to stop her from lying about it? I can’t exactly prove her inaction.”
Frank looked at her. “I think you and Risa should sit down with the aunt and have a conversation. Ask her your questions—knowing what you know from our end—and see what she has to say. Your instincts are good. Your gut will tell you.”
“I know, I just hate that Risa has to base a major decision on a gut feeling.”
“Sweetie, we do it more often than you’d like to think,” he said. “Just because you can’t articulate the process doesn’t mean it isn’t a good one.”
“True.”
He glanced at the clock next to the TV. “It’s getting late. Why don’t you stay?”
Frank and Peg had a fully furnished basement and a spare room that was loosely designated as Fina’s home away from home. She stayed over on occasion and pretended, if only in her own mind, that she was part of a functional family. Every once in a while, it was just what she needed, and it allowed Frank and Peg to play parents, a role that they missed since their two sons lived out of state.