“They were going to keep the money hidden for a few years before they split it up,” she said, “thinking that at some point the investigation would lose steam. They were willing to wait it out.”
“How did Carl get three million dollars into the car by himself?”
“They knew that one million, the way banks bundle money, would weigh twenty-two pounds. So the whole thing only came to about sixty-six pounds. Not a problem. Believe me, they planned and researched every aspect. And if Ferdy’s alarm thing had worked, there wouldn’t have been any hitch in the plan at all.”
“What else?”
“That’s all I’m prepared to say right now, Audrey. I just felt I owed you this much.”
“So where’s the money? Does Carl have it?”
“I don’t know, either him or Ferdy. But hang onto the key I sent to you. I may be able to contact you again, depending on where I end up. I sent you the envelope from the last place I was, just before I got on a plane. Believe me, Audrey, I don’t intend to be found. I’m not stupid enough to testify and get myself killed.”
“Wait - what about Ferdy? He was at the bank. Why wasn’t he caught?”
“I don’t know for sure, but Carl used to ride him about wetting himself that day. He didn’t know Danny was going to bring a gun. When he saw it – and then when the customer was shot – well, I guess the wet pants made him look innocent.”
“So where is he?”
“I have no idea,” she said.
“I think it was Ferdy who put sleeping pills in Tony’s coffee that morning. The manager of the café and Tony both did sketches of the guy, and I’m sure it was Ferdy in disguise. I just don’t know why he’d do that. Do you?”
“I’ve said enough. I have to go. Thanks again for being so nice to me. I won’t forget you. Bye, Audrey.”
“Harley, wait!” I pleaded. But she was gone.
I shut off the laptop and the cassette player and looked at Jack. “I can’t believe this. I’m so glad you were here – I never would have thought to record it.”
He stood up and rubbed the back of his neck. “Unbelievable.”
“I wish she’d known where Carl had put the money. Wouldn’t that be something? It sounded like it’s probably still where he hid it all those years ago. Do you think it’s in that awful house of his?”
“I don’t know, but the department will search the place from top to bottom. Come on,” he said, “let’s get this to the station.”
“Should I meet you there?”
“Nope, you get to ride with me this time. You’re officially in this up to your pretty little neck.”
Chapter 24
“So you recorded this conversation with your former assistant?” asked Matt, after he’d listened to the tape.
“Not more than an hour ago,” I answered.
“And she worked with you for how long?”
“Around two years.”
“And no problems with her in all that time? Nothing ever came up missing? She never displayed odd behavior?”
“She lied about living with her grandmother, but she never confided in me about Carl’s violent behavior until I confronted her in the hospital. I don’t know if I’d call that odd; given the circumstances, I’d call it survival.”
“And all this time she knew about Carl and Danny Stearns and Mr. Finnegan, and never said a word? Even though she knew you were afraid of Stearns?”
“I’m telling you she was terrified of Carl – and throw Danny Stearns into the mix and I can’t blame her. She obviously felt badly enough, though, to call and tell me about it today.”
“But not bad enough to say where she was or where the money is hidden.”
“It didn’t sound like she knew about the money.” I looked at Jack who winked at me and nodded, as if to tell me I was doing a good job.
“It doesn’t smell right to me,” Matt said, “there’s more to this.”
“I agree,” said Jack, “it can’t be a coincidence that the bank robbery and Tony’s plane crash are tied to Ferdy – who’s tied to Danny and Carl – who are all tied to Harley – who’s tied to you, Audrey. It’s all connected. We need to find Ferdy to see what we can get out of him. Of the three men, I’d say he’d cave the quickest.”
“Another thing,” said Matt. “The pills you gave to Miller Crawford came from a bottle in Harley’s desk, and the bottle tested positive for the drug found in his blood. And Tony’s. So where did she get them? From Carl? Or Ferdy? Whoever it was had to do some research to find pills that looked so much like aspirin. That alone spells premeditation.”
“And,” said Jack, “why did she have them? Miller getting them had to have been an accident; there was no way Harley could have known that he was going to get a headache.”
“Unless,” said Matt, “she was supposed to put them in someone else’s drink.”
“Whose?” I asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe yours.”
I shook my head. “She would never have done that.”
“Think about it,” he said, “the woman was holding on to a ton of secrets. It wasn’t impossible for something to slip out. She would have needed to be prepared for a scenario like that.”
“So she could what, drug me before I got into my vehicle?”
“Three million bucks is a boatload of motive, Audrey. And so is fear.”
“You know, if I were Harley,” I said, “I’d turn the three guys in, testify against them, and collect the reward money.”
“That’s exactly what she did with the conversation on this cassette,” said Jack, “except she screwed herself out of the reward money by admitting to aiding and abetting, and interfering with an investigation. So, that little lady is in a lot of trouble, and they’ll be looking for her too, now.”
This was not the outcome I’d been hoping for. I wanted the men caught, but I didn’t want to bring any more trouble to Harley; she’d had enough in her life. We’d truly gotten along from the first day we met and I couldn’t have asked for a better assistant or friend. Now I’d betrayed her by having Jack listen to our conversation and made her a wanted woman. I felt awful. If I ever heard from her again, I’d warn her. I’d confess that we hadn’t had a private talk at all; that Jack had heard everything. I wanted the opportunity to tell her to stay away – that if the reward money was on her mind, to forget it; that thanks to me, she could never, ever, collect it.
“Well, I’ll turn the cassette over to the Rochester D.A.,” said Matt, “and it will become part of the prosecution’s case.”
“Does this mean I won’t have to testify?”
“Just the opposite,” he said. “It means you’ll have to testify about making the recording.”
Well, wasn’t this day going just super. In trying to do the right thing, I’d screwed myself six ways to Sunday and dragged Harley along with me. I looked at Jack. “If we’re done here, can we go? I’ve had enough for one day.”
Once we were back in the car, tears streamed down my face. “I don’t know what to do,” I said. “Every time I turn around something’s going from bad to worse, and now I’m causing even more problems for myself and for Harley.”
“Audrey!” he said, “Will you please get over Harley? Write her off for Christ’s sake. You have to stop thinking of her as a friend. She’s not! You have enough to deal with without feeling guilty about her. Now stop it!”
Frustration. It was as bad as hearing weariness in his voice. Jack didn’t understand my inability to let go of the things in my life I saw as being positive. Like Harley. My anxiety aggravated him, and I knew he was at the end of his rope.
“I’m sorry, Jack.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he said. “I know you have issues, and just because I don’t understand them – because I’m not a therapist or a psychologist – doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be patient with you.”
“I’m going to call Dr. Steele and set up an appointment for as soon as she can see me.”<
br />
“That’s probably a good idea,” he said. He held me tight and pressed his lips to my forehead. “I’ve never kissed someone in my patrol car before. Better not start now.”
“I’m going to spend the rest of the day looking at apartments,” I said. “At least that’s productive.”
“Oh, I think you’ve been plenty productive today,” he laughed. “See you tomorrow?”
“The earlier the better,” I said, and I waved goodbye.
Lisa’s car was parked outside the salon, so I decided to pay her a visit; I needed a few minutes in her magic chair. When I walked in, she was winding up the last rod on the head of a woman who had to be two hundred years old. The odor of permanent solution filled the air, as Lisa squeezed it over the rods, and I couldn’t understand how the lady’s ancient lungs could take it. The stuff smelled God-awful.
Lisa set the woman up with a cup of coffee and a magazine and came to sit next to me, as I vibrated along with the chair. I told her I was losing my apartment.
“Oh, Audrey, you’ve been up there for so long! It never crossed my mind that you’d be gone some day.”
“Just one more thing for me to worry about,” I sighed. “I already have way too much on my mind.”
“So I noticed.” She went into the coat area and brought out my laundry basket full of the sheets, towels, and blankets I’d taken to the Laundromat. I’d completely forgotten they were there. “This was sitting empty in front of one of the big washers – it has your initials on it. It’s your stuff, right?”
I nodded. “I can’t believe I did that. Thanks for drying them for me.”
“Not a problem, but I’m getting worried about you; should I be? Are you all right? I mean, really all right?”
“No, I’m not. I should go.” I picked up my laundry basket, walked next door, and climbed the stairs to my apartment, wondering if I would ever be really all right.
Needing something to occupy my mind, I drove to the office, determined to round up everything still left that pertained to my agency, and maybe even take a stab at wrestling one of the cots down the stairs. If I could manage to lug it that far, I could roll it out to Nelly and hoist it into the back. I backed up close to the door, opened Nelly’s hatch, and started fishing in my purse for the door key. Not paying attention to my surroundings, as Jack had warned me to do, I failed to hear the approach of the person who stuck the business end of a gun in my back.
“Open it,” a man said, and I knew from his phone call, that it was Carl. I froze with the key in my hand, unable to insert it into the lock. “Give me the damn thing,” he ordered, and I placed the key in his outstretched hand.
“Carl,” I started. “I told you, I don’t know where Harley is.” He pushed me inside and kicked the door closed behind him, while his grip on my arm tightened. “She’s not here. I swear!”
Keeping me with him, he searched every room and closet on the first floor before he waved the gun toward the stairs, “Let’s go.”
“Are you serious?” I cried.
“Shut up and go!” he ordered, as he pushed me forward, poking the gun in my back for emphasis.
Suddenly I remembered Miller saying that the alarm would be triggered by breaking glass; surely it wouldn’t matter if it was broken from the inside or outside. I moved toward the stairs and the window where my nameplate rested on the sill. As we got to the window, I pointed to the crystal piece. “Harley gave this to me.”
“Keep moving,” he ordered.
Adrenalin coursed through my body, providing speed and strength that surprised even me, as I grabbed the heavy piece and rammed it into the window. The glass shattered and the alarm sounded. Thank you, Miller!
Startled by the noise, Carl lost his focus and I was able to push him off balance; he tumbled backwards onto the floor. “Son of a bitch!” he shouted. He landed hard and the gun skittered away. He’d only fallen from the fifth step, but that left enough space between us to let me run the rest of the way up and lock myself in the small bathroom. I didn’t think he’d follow me with the alarm blaring, knowing that the police would arrive at any moment, but I stayed where I was, having seen enough TV to know that sometimes a bad guy waits to draw the innocent person out. I sat tight until the sirens became so loud it sounded like the patrol cars were going to drive through the wall of the building.
I cautiously made my way to the first floor with my hands in the air, just in case. Two uniformed officers were in the parking lot, handcuffing an irate Carl, while two more, with weapons drawn, moved toward the stairs. I recognized Matt, and better yet, he recognized me.
Matt asked, “Was he alone?”
I nodded, and answered, “Yes,” at which point, he and the officer next to him holstered their weapons.
“You hurt?”
“No, just rattled.” But as I said that, I felt what I can only describe as an electrical short in my head. What the heck was that? It almost had a sound to it – ffft!
I explained what had happened and answered Matt’s questions, as he wrote in his notebook. Within ten minutes, Jack arrived. “Was that Carl they put into a squad car?” I nodded. “Are you okay?” I nodded again. “Thank God you weren’t hurt. Why he was here?”
“I guess he thought he could force me to tell him where Harley went,” I said, and I explained how I’d broken the glass with the gift Harley had given me. “Without that, I don’t know how I would have signaled for help.”
“Why were you even here?” he asked.
“Among other things,” I said, “I came to move one of the stupid cots.”
“Lord, Audrey, you know I’d do that for you!” I could tell he was trying to control his frustration with me, but he soon realized how upset I was and backed off. “Do you have your medication with you? You’re shaking.”
“I stopped taking it,” I said, as another ffft! buzzed through my head. It didn’t hurt, but it felt like someone had poked the end of a live wire into my brain. There. And then not there. What was happening to me?
“Why?”
“What?” I asked, having lost his voice for a second.
“I asked why? Why did you stop taking your medication?”
“I didn’t like the way it made me feel.” I looked down, not wanting to see concern, or worse, judgment, in his eyes. “I don’t need it when I have you.”
“You’d better mention that to Dr. Steele when you see her.”
“I will.” I’d fully intended to tell Dr. Steele, and hoped she would understand. Even if she didn’t, it was my life. She was my therapist, but she didn’t own me. I was able to take her advice or ignore it. I wanted so badly to be able to declare myself to be my own woman. A fully capable, anxiety-free, human being. I was still holding on – my GAD had not fully returned, as far as I could tell, but then I hadn’t known it had a hold on me when I was in college either; not until I’d been told I was fully in its grasp.
Jack said, “I’ll call you tomorrow. I’m working overtime tonight.”
I nodded. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to call a glass service and wait for them to come fix the window, then I’ll head home. You be careful, okay?”
“I always am.” He winked at me and left, along with the other officers.
I called the glass company’s emergency number, made a mental note to have the land line in here disconnected, then sat at my desk to wait. Half an hour later the van from the glass company pulled into the driveway and within twenty minutes the window had been replaced. I thanked the installer, and asked if we could walk out together; I set the alarm, turned out the lights, and we left. My shoulders were stiff and my head was pounding. Maybe a hot shower would help clear out the cobwebs.
Clean and jammied up, I made a call to Dr. Steele’s office, which netted me an appointment for the following Wednesday. Suddenly, another zap to my head – ffft! like a lighting strike – and I knew I had lost a split second of consciousness. Did I have a brain tumor now? Is that how I would wind up this crazy-ass life o
f mine? As if the universe wanted to answer, a vision materialized.
I saw myself in a hospital bed, a doctor standing nearby, telling me the tumor was inoperable and that the end of my life was near. Would I have enough time to come back to my apartment? Or would I have to remain in the hospital until the end? If I came home to die in my beloved apartment, would I live long enough that I would still have to find a new place and move? Or would my landlord take pity on me and let me stay, even if my lease expired before I did? Another zap. I went to bed, but did not sleep. How could I?
Chapter 25
Wednesday came, and I was in Dr. Steele’s office, wondering when to tell her I thought I had a brain tumor; I had already fessed up about ditching my meds. She leaned forward in her chair. “Audrey, you can’t stop taking your medication just like that. You need to be weaned off of it. When did you last take your antidepressant?”
“A few days ago.”
She shook her head in dismay. “We can start reducing the amount if you’re determined to get off them, but cold turkey is not the way to go. There can be severe side effects to that.”
“Is loose bowels one of them?” I asked, thinking of those dreadful pharmaceutical commercials. “Or boils?”
“Sorry?”
“Never mind,” I said. “So, what could happen?” As I asked the question, another zap pierced my brain. I must have winced, because Dr. Steele asked what was wrong. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know. I just had what felt like a lightning strike inside my head. I think I have a brain tumor.”
“No, you don’t have a tumor,” she said softly. “That zap was a withdrawal symptom. That’s what happens when you just stop taking your antidepressant instead of getting off gradually.”
“It’s happened before,” I said, waiting for it to happen again.
“And it will happen again. And it will get worse. Other symptoms will accompany the zaps.”
I leaned back in my chair and cried. “I feel so helpless. Carl’s arrest should have bolstered me. Danny is off the street. Only Ferdy is on the run, and I doubt he’ll want to come anywhere near me. But none of that makes me feel any less vulnerable.”
Brainstorm Page 12