by J. J. Franck
Don threw a mocking smile at Raven. He liked her sense of humor. He knew she came from old money, but she never put on airs because of it. If anything, she worked hard at coming across as just a normal person.
“I wasn’t being mean,” she quickly added.
Raven sensed she hurt Don’s pride by her flip remark. She didn’t want to offend him. She was just stating the fact that all was not as it seemed. She never let herself be impressed by people who flaunted their affluence because in most cases they were only one step ahead of the creditors.
Don had a sarcastic look on his face. “It hurts to have you put down a plain Joe like me.”
“I would hardly call you a plain Joe,” Raven said, shaking her head as she stared at Don.
Don turned and smiled teasingly at Raven and then raised his eyebrows.
“You mean that?”
“Are you hitting on me?” Raven asked.
Don was a little startled. In truth he really would have liked to hit on Raven, but she was involved in a case he was working on and that was a definite no-no. He nervously fidgeted and then quickly pulled into the long driveway and drove up the side of the garage away from the front windows of the house. Once he parked the car he turned to Raven.
“No,” he said finally and then quickly added, “You mean if I wasn’t investigating your murder, you might consider going out with me?”
Raven stared at Don. “Find the person who murdered me first,” she said. “We’ll discuss a relationship later.”
Raven laughed as she reached for the door handle, but Don stopped her. She was startled at first.
“I want you to stay put,” he said.
“Why?”
“You have to ask?”
Raven rolled her eyes and then sat back and sulked while Don reached in the glove box and took out the small tape recorder.
“Can you do that?” Raven asked, looking at the tap recorder.
“If his wife’s home, I want a sampling of her voice.”
“I forgot.”
“She could be the one who threatened you. It is probable cause.”
Raven just looked at him with a frown. Granted, they still had to find out who had threatened her, which could lead to the person who killed Cathy. But it didn’t make sense if it was tied to Willie’s murder. She could understand a wife going after her husband’s mistress, but nothing else made sense beyond that.
Don slammed the glove box closed and then stuck the small tape recorder in his jacket pocket and then got out. He slowly walked up to the front door. Don half expected a maid, but it was Lydia Sinclair who answered the door.
She was a typical trophy wife. Her blonde hair was meticulously pulled back in a tight bun, her makeup was done up as if she had an event to go to. She was dressed to the hilt. Don smiled to himself, thinking what a high-maintenance woman she must be.
Lydia Sinclair was not impressed when Don showed her his badge. She appeared put out that he was there, a minor irritation she had to put up with.
He had met women like Lydia through his years on the force. And in fact he even had the pleasure of putting a few away. He never liked that these women appeared to put themselves above the common person, as if because of their station in life that made them better. In all actuality, most started out as trailer trash, making their climb to the top even more pathetic.
Don was wondering if Raven was right, that this was all for show. Technically once they had all this, they still had to keep up with the payroll for the household staff. And given Lydia answered the door, he wondered just how affluent they actually were.
Don could hardly envision Lydia cleaning a mansion of this size, but then it was Saturday and possibly the staff had the day off.
His mind was racing as he followed Lydia into the study. Once in there Lydia turned to Don in a sultry look that Don got the impression she used on men to get her way.
“My husband will be down in a minute,” she said and then turned and started to walk off.
“I’d like to talk to you, too, if you don’t mind,” Don said holding up his hand.
Lydia turned and glanced at Don and then followed him into the study. Don just walked over to the couch. He reached in his pocket and flipped on the switch to the tape recorder. It was the first opportunity he had without being observed by Lydia. She slowly strutted over to the desk and then sat down. She turned and stared at Don with an air of superiority he was not impressed with.
“What is it you want to talk to me about?”
“Your relationship with Senator Maxfield’s staff.”
Lydia laughed and then said, “What relationship?”
Don studied her for a moment and then responded, “His personal assistant, for one.”
Lydia was taken aback and then asked,. “Are you referring to Raven VanBuren?” She said her name like it left a bad taste in her mouth.
“I’m investigating her death,” Don said.
Lydia’s voice turned cold and unfeeling. “It was most unfortunate. Now poor Willie. What’s this world coming to?”
“Did you know Ms. VanBuren?”
“I don’t make it a habit of fraternizing with the help.”
Don was irritated with her remark. It was clear she put herself above Raven by belittling her as being insignificant. Probably because Raven worked for a living, was Don’s guess. It was clear that Lydia didn’t take the time to get to know Raven. Otherwise, she would know that Raven wasn’t just a working girl. She came from a long line of affluent people. Raven wanted a purpose in life. And working for her friend’s husband gave her that purpose. Don felt if she hadn’t worked for Senator Maxfield, she probably would have worked for some humanitarian organization.
“She wasn’t just the hired help,” Don snapped but then caught himself and quickly added, “My understanding is, she came from old money. Surely the two of you must have crossed paths?”
Lydia was indifferent to what Don was saying. David Sinclair walked in just then. Don was thankful because he was clearly annoyed with his wife. It was women like that that irritated him. He knew if he checked into her background, he was sure she came from a low-income family. So what gave her the right to look down on anyone?
“Sorry it took me so long,” David said.
“No problem, I was just having a nice conversation with your wife,” Don said, almost choking on the words.
Don glanced over at Lydia with a condescending smile. It was hard for him to fake being nice.
Lydia sensed Don’s dislike. She finally turned to him. “If you don’t mind, I have to get ready for an engagement,” she said, getting up from the desk.
Don glanced at Lydia and then turned to David Sinclair, who just stood watching the two.
“What is it you wanted to speak to me about?” David asked and then glanced at his watch. “I don’t have much time,” he quickly added.
“You heard about Senator Maxfield’s death,” Don nonchalantly asked.
“Yes, a most unfortunate situation for us all. What is it you need from me?”
David walked over to his desk and sat down. He opened the top desk drawer and took out a pack of cigarettes. Don noticed the unusual brand. David lit up and then motioned to Don.
“You don’t mind? My one vice,” David said.
“No. Actually, I could use one myself.”
David tossed the pack over with the matches. Don quickly lights up and leaned back while taking a deep drag on the cigarette and then exhaled. Don finally turned back to David.
“How long have you worked with the Senator?”
“Technically I don’t work for the Senator. I manage a Super PAC that supports his campaigns. In that way, it’s been four years now.”
“So your Super PAC supported his reelection campaign last year?”
“Yes, but that’s common knowledge. Why don’t you get to the point?”
Don took another drag of the cigarette and exhaled quickly and then studied David Sinclair for the lon
gest time. He decided there was nothing to like about the man. He was as superficial as his wife. Don wondered if that’s what it took to be a success in the Capital. If it was, he was glad to be a lowly detective. At least he had the pleasure of putting these people in a place they deserved to be.
Don glanced up, mustered up a smile, and then said, “These are good,” he held up the cigarette. “Where do you get them?”
“A little shop downtown, near the Hart building. I’m sure you can get them other places too.”
Don studied the cigarette package. There were only a few cigarettes left, and he looked sheepishly at David.
“Mind if I take these?”
“Be my guest,” David said in a smug way.
Don stubbed out his cigarette in the ash tray nearby and then put the pack in his pocket. As Don watched David smash his, he would have liked to have taken the butt, but given the cigarette butts at the crime scene were drenched from the rain, he doubted they would get any good DNA off of them.
Don glanced up at David. “Did you know Senator Maxfield was investigating campaign financing?”
“There were rumors that an investigation was underway.”
“Then you weren’t involved in what he was doing?” Don asked, watching him closely for his reaction.
“No, but I did offer my help.”
“Did you know he was investigating himself?” Don said and then watched, as it clearly seemed to strike a nerve.
David had quickly exhaled, and when he heard what Don said he started choking.
“You okay?” Don asked.
It took a moment for David to regain his composure and then he just stared at Don for the longest time before he replied, “Isn’t that a little facetious?”
“It was supposed to be random. If you add your own name to the investigation, then how can anyone accuse you of being partisan?”
“That was Willie for you.”
Just then Lydia walked back into the room. She turned and glanced at Don in a way that appeared annoyed he was still there. She then looked at her husband as her jaw muscles tensed.
“Darling, have you forgotten our luncheon engagement?”
David turned to Don as he got up from the desk, while Lydia continued with her interruption.
“We have to be there in forty minutes,” she quickly added.
David shrugged as if offering his apology. He then looked at his watch, but Don wasn’t going to go easy.
“A few more questions, then I’ll go.” Don said in a way that indicated he would not leave until he was ready to go.
Don then turned to the doorway to make sure Lydia was gone and then turned back to David and asked him point blank.
“Do you know a Cathy Monroe?” he asked. “Her name came up in the investigation.”
Don didn’t want to let on that it was she who was killed in Raven’s car, or that Raven was still alive.
“Cathy worked for Albright Enterprises. We met while working on Willie’s campaign. Her firm handled the accounting of campaign funds,” he said reluctantly, not wanting to give out any more information than was necessary.
“And you were in charge of a Super PAC fund that also financed ads for various senators?”
“There’s a fine line where the two should never meet.”
“Aren’t you forgetting an important detail?” Don asked.
David turned to the door again. Don could tell he had him on the run. He was not leaving until he was satisfied he got all the answers he came for. Suddenly David started stammering for a moment and then quickly added.
“Cathy and I were close at one time. That was a long time ago.”
“Then you weren’t planning to go away with her this weekend?” Don asked.
“How did...?” David started to say, but then stopped abruptly.
David’s face flushed as he fidgeted with his fingers. It was a sign that a person was not telling the truth.
“Getting back to Senator Maxfield. You headed up his campaign for reelection?” Don asked, already knowing the answer.
David nodded as Don continued. “What can you tell me about Albright Enterprises?”
“Why don’t you talk to Cathy, she was their top sales associate. She could tell you more about the running of the firm than I can.”
“I wish I could, but she hasn’t been seen for a couple of days.”
“You were right, we were seeing each other. We were supposed to go away together this weekend. Lydia found out and now I’m under house arrest, so to speak,” he remarked with raised eyebrows and then continued, “Maybe Cathy went with someone else. I wasn’t the only one in her life.”
“From what I heard, you were the only one that mattered.”
“As you can see, I’m married. I’m sorry if our friendship meant more to her than it meant to me.”
After hearing that, Don liked David Sinclair even less than before. It was clear he was a user and, once done with a person, he discarded them like yesterday’s trash.
“Getting back to the firm she worked for, what can you tell me about it?” Don asked. He knew his time was running out with David, but he still needed answers.
“It’s an accounting firm that handled collections and payments of all the bills various senators ran up during their campaign. There are several firms out there, all government-regulated,” David said as he paused and then looked sternly at Don.
“Why do you ask?”
“The name came up a few times,” Don said.
“You have access to what Willie was working on?” David asked, looking at Don with renewed interest. “Do you realize, in the wrong hands, that could ruin lives?”
“He was investigating corruption in government,” Don said with a sternness to his voice.
David leaned forward. His mannerisms became hard as his jaw muscles tensed.
“Be careful,” David finally said.
Don stared at him for the longest time. “Is that a threat?” Don asked.
David hesitated a moment and then collected himself. His body language changed abruptly.
“I mean, be careful how you handle the information.”
“I will,” Don said as he got up. He patted his pocket as he walked over to David. Don offered his hand.
“Thanks for the cigarettes,” Don said.
“Don’t mention it,” David replied.
Don took his leave quickly before Lydia came in to escort him out. Before leaving the room, Don glanced back at David, who was sitting at his desk with a condescending grin on his face.
Chapter 21
Once Don walked out of the Sinclair residency he stood on the porch, glanced over at the squad, and stared for the longest time at Raven. He couldn’t get over how different she was from the Sinclairs. It showed in how she interacted with Maggie or Charlie at the station. She didn’t have that air of superiority that the Sinclairs had. Why some people felt the need to put you down, because of your station in life, was beyond him. When, in fact, they were no better than him in the end. And, given a little training, Don was sure he would know what piece of silverware to use with what course that was being served at a meal.
Don reached in his pocket and turned the recorder off. He slowly walked over to the squad and, once inside, he tossed the pack of cigarettes to Raven.
“Do you know anyone else who smokes these?” he asked.
Raven shook her head and then replied, wondering why it should matter. “No, never saw them before,” she said, clearly puzzled. “What’s the significance?” she finally asked.
“We found a few of these strange cigarette butts at your murder scene. I’m sure they will match his brand,” Don said, looking at Raven for her reaction.”
She turned to him. “Would you please stop referring to it as my murder scene. It’s giving me the creeps.”
“Okay, I’ll try,” he said.
“You think David Sinclair is involved?”
“He is starting to look good.”
“But he and Cathy...” she started to say and then stopped.
“People have died for less,” Don said as he turned to her as if to accentuate that point.
Don started the engine. He feared the longer they sat outside the house, the more chances there were that someone would peek outside a window and see Raven sitting in the squad. He quickly backed the squad up and pulled out of the driveway.
* * *
Don was relieved when he pulled up to the police station. This was his life. It may not be filled with a lot of glamour, but the people he knew and worked with were not superficial. Even the criminals he sent up the river had more substance than the Sinclairs. After meeting them and the way they acted toward him, he almost wanted to take a shower because of the dirty feeling he had when leaving their house. They may be hobnobbing with the rich and famous, but they were not anybody to look up to. And he certainly didn’t envy them their existence.
Raven didn’t talk much about them, and Don got the impression she didn’t much care for them either. It was what she didn’t say that said a lot.
Once they reached the Homicide department, Don left Raven sitting at his desk while he walked over to Charlie’s desk across the room. It surprised him that Charlie was still there, given it was a Saturday, but then he was a widower and didn’t have a girlfriend. His life was his job. That thought sent a chill up Don’s spine, wondering if that was going to be him in thirty years. He quickly shook free of that thought.
While Don stood talking to Charlie, he took the pack of cigarettes he got from David Sinclair out of his pocket, then turned them over to Charlie to have them compared to the butts at the crime scene.
Don’s back was to Raven, so she got nosy and started opening desk drawers. What caught her attention was the picture of Don and Jackie under a stack of papers. She glanced up at Don and then at the picture. Raven quickly put it back under the papers and shut the drawer. It was a good thing she did that because Don slowly turned and walked over to her. He took her by the arm.