by Judi McCoy
“I talked to Gruning today. That’s the other thing we need to go over.” He leaned back on the bench and crossed his ankles. “What to do about Thompson Veridot.”
She let the information settle before she spoke. “You’re absolutely positive he’s out?”
“As of the beginning of May. And no one’s seen him since.”
“I still don’t see how he could simply disappear. Doesn’t he have to check in with . . . someone?”
“Nope. He did every day of his thirty years, which means he paid his debt to society. He’s free as a bird, no rules or constraints.”
“So what Gary wrote in that note was probably right. His brother could have killed him.” Though her insides churned, she copied Sam’s relaxed pose. “Does anybody have an idea where he might be?”
“I don’t have a clue, and neither does Gruning.”
“I’m beginning to believe you’re right about him. The man is a jerk.”
“I didn’t tell him about the note you found in the bank box, because it would only lead to trouble, but I have a theory.” He swiveled on the bench, and she knew he was studying her reaction. “These days, it’s easy to disappear, buy a new identity, and get a fresh start without your past hanging over your head. Since Thompson has no family, he probably contacted some of the pals he met doing time. They may have helped him forge a new ID, get some cash, probably enough to see him through until he found a way to get money of his own.”
“You mean money from his brother.”
“It’s a sensible answer. But if I explain the situation to Gruning, it will up the ante on your guilt.”
Chapter 9
Sam walked beside Ellie as they made their way home from the park. It was late, and he had an early call in the morning, but he didn’t care. The second Gruning informed him that Thompson Veridot had been released from jail, his insides had seized and he’d called the prison.
According to the warden, Veridot was a smart bastard who’d never tried for parole; without a sorry bone in his body, he knew he’d be denied. He probably figured his baby brother still had the family fortune and returned home to stalk him. Gary must have sensed it or seen the guy on the street, but had been too frightened to do anything about it.
When Thompson finally approached him, Gary probably refused to give him the cash. So the creep shot him, maybe in retaliation for Gary testifying against him, maybe for the hell of it. Then Thompson tore up the shelter searching for the money.
And if he’d been tailing Gary, he could have seen Ellie talking to his brother or visiting the shelter and figured she knew something. Now that the will was a matter of public record, all the scumbag had to do was go to the probate clerk and check the filings. When he saw Ellie’s name as the person responsible for Gary’s estate, he’d take it from there.
To think that Thompson might be watching her while she walked the dogs had Sam ready to blow a fuse. The creep might even have followed both of them to the bank the other afternoon, put the pieces together, and was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
He’d tried to get this point across to Gruning, but the asshole wouldn’t listen. Unless Ellie could prove there’d been a threat on her life, Gruning wasn’t about to set up protection. In fact, if the idiot detective learned she was now in possession of Gary’s cash, he’d probably reconsider his position and arrest her, as he’d wanted to do last week.
They arrived at her complex in silence, and she climbed a step before turning. Sam realized they were standing just about where she had been when that Kevin guy had kissed her. The man was a wuss. If Ellie had been Sam’s date for the evening, their good-bye would have gone a lot further than a wimpy peck on the cheek.
He was about to show her the way a real man said good night when her dog wound itself around his ankles. Reaching down, he grabbed the leash, and all three mutts started yipping, growling, and jumping, making the tangle worse. Hopping on one foot, he loosened the leads and straightened. When he looked up, Ellie was grinning.
“What’s so funny?”
“You. Big, tough detective, trying to corral a trio of ‘hairy hamsters.’ I should take a picture.”
“Do that. In the meantime, we aren’t finished talking.”
She rolled her eyes. “You mean there’s more?”
“Hell, yes, there’s more, and you know it. I can tell by that tough-girl look on your face what you’re thinking.”
“You have no idea what’s on my mind. But Gary’s actions make more sense now.”
“Just tell me you have no intention of doing what he suggested in that note.”
She sighed. “Stop badgering me. I’m tired, and it’s hard to think straight.”
“Ellie, I’m ordering you not to go looking for Thompson Veridot, is that clear? Instead, we should discuss the things you can do to stay safe—besides buying a gun. Which is a terrible idea, I might add.”
“That’s exactly what I’d expect you to say.” She looked down her nose at him. “You are such a—a—cop.”
“A gun of any caliber is a serious piece of hardware, and it takes training, a strong arm, and a good eye to handle one properly. Never hold a weapon unless you know how to use it.”
“There are places in the city that give lessons. I’ll apply for a permit and pay someone to teach me how to fire a weapon. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m responsible enough to learn how to do things right.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“I know it’s not simple. I’m willing to get instruction.” She pulled out her keys. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to say good night.”
“Wait.” He took her elbow. “Can I come up?”
“No.”
“Just for a couple of minutes. I have more to say.”
“More to say about what? Me and my stupid ideas? Me being too weak to defend myself?”
Okay, so he had to take a subtler approach. “Come on, fifteen minutes. I’ll be nice, promise.”
She raised a brow, but didn’t say no. He followed her up the steps and into the apartment.
“Give me a minute to give the boys a nibble.”
He sat at the kitchen table. “Don’t tell me you didn’t have someone walk them or feed them dinner.”
“I asked Viv to do it, but she’s not always generous. Besides, it’s the least I can do for not being here on time.”
“When did you and that guy meet?”
“Kevin? We met at six for an early dinner. He has to be in court in the morning.”
Sam stifled a groan. A lawyer. It figured.
She put a handful of kibble in each bowl, then set down dishes with fresh water. After that, she peered in her fridge. “Do you want a beer or some ice water? If you’d prefer, I can make hot tea.”
“Water’s fine.”
After pouring two glasses, she took a seat across from him. “What else did you want to say?”
“That you need to be extraordinarily careful. Don’t go out alone, especially after dark.”
“You already said that. What else?”
Her calm tone eased the stranglehold of worry from around his chest. “Pay attention to the people you meet. Don’t walk anywhere that’s isolated, and for God’s sake, don’t come into your building without that can of Mace in your hand, whether it’s day or night. And if you think you spotted Thompson Veridot, call me.”
“I wouldn’t know the man if I tripped over him, so that’ll be difficult.”
“There must have been pictures in those online articles you read. Something you could use for identification.”
“Thirty years have passed. I doubt he looks anything like he did back then.”
“I’ll phone the warden again, see if I can get a current photo and description.”
She used a paper napkin to wipe a water ring off the table. “You really think he killed his own brother?”
“He murdered his parents, didn’t he? Men like him don’t change—unless they find religion and rep
ent. From what the warden said, that wasn’t the case with Thompson.”
“Okay.” She heaved a sigh. “Anything else?”
“Have you ever taken a self-defense class?”
She frowned. “You’re joking.”
“I’m serious. I know you don’t believe in violence, but you should learn to protect yourself if attacked. Even if I’m wrong about Veridot, defensive training is a smart thing for a woman. I have a friend who owns a gym. He gives classes a couple of nights a week.”
“And you want me to sign up for one of them?”
“Not one—a series of lessons. Learn how to scratch, bite, claw, kick with a vengeance, anything to break away from an attacker. It’s worth it, believe me.”
Rudy trotted over and put his paws on her thigh. She glanced down and gave his ears a scratch. “I know, thinking about it makes me tired, too.” Then she gave Sam a look that told him his time was up. “I really have to get to bed.”
He pushed away from the table, and she followed him to the door. “Promise me you’ll be alert, careful. Don’t talk to strangers and don’t go into any park alone, especially at night.”
“I’ll try.”
“Trying isn’t good enough. I want your promise that you won’t look for Thompson Veridot. If you think you’re being followed, call me.”
“I’m not making any promises. I have to think about what Gary asked me to do in that note, what I feel is right in my heart, too, and I can’t do that with you on my case.”
He sighed, then raised a hand and touched her cheek. Giving himself a mental kick, he drew her near. She was such a soft touch, she’d be an easy mark for Veridot or any jerk looking to do a hit and run. What could he do to make her see she was vulnerable?
Ellie grabbed his wrist as if to pull away, but he didn’t let her go. He planned to make sure this was the good night she’d remember, not the puny peck she’d received from that wuss of an attorney.
When she opened her mouth to speak, he captured her lips, gently tasted and teased, then delved for more. The kiss brought back all the old memories plus a few new ideas that kicked his heartbeat up a notch. Knowing it couldn’t go any further, he drew back.
“I expect to hear from you at least once a day, and every night before you go to bed. If not, I’ll be on your doorstep just like the postman, only I’ll work on Sundays, too.” He put a cocky grin on his face, gave her a small salute, and walked out the door.
Ellie was just about to go to bed when her cell rang. Striding into the kitchen, she dug in her purse and pulled out the phone. She needed to charge it, so the call was a good thing, no matter who was on the line. “This is Ellie.” A bout of heavy breathing brought back the memory of the rude person who had called that morning to ask about the assistant’s job. “Hello?”
“Did you give any thought to my coming to your place for an interview?”
When she heard the muffled voice, she knew it was the same man. “Look, Mr. . . . ?”
“You’re still up. I can be to your place in five minutes.”
“How do you know where I live?” she asked, telling herself to stand tough.
“I know lots about you . . . and your dog.”
Ellie swallowed hard. This was too creepy for words. “Have you been following me?”
“In a manner of speaking. Now how about that interview?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m no longer looking for an assistant,” she said, frowning. “And I don’t appreciate your continued calls, especially since you won’t give me your name.”
His laugh raised goose bumps on her arms. “We’ll meet, soon enough. I got plenty to say to you.” With that, he disconnected the call.
“Stupid jerk,” Ellie muttered, snapping her phone closed. Then she rubbed her arms. What did she expect when she hung her phone number on public bulletin boards for every nut job to see? The guy’s voice was downright ugly. She’d swear she’d heard it before, but couldn’t for the life of her remember where. He’d pulled a slip off her flyer, but where? She’d gone to Columbia and a few other colleges, so he could have found out about her in several places.
Miffed, she stomped down the hall and into the bedroom, plugged her cell into the charger, and took care of business in the bathroom. Then she returned and glanced at Rudy, snuggled on the pillow next to her.
“Who was on the phone?”
“Some jerk trying to get an interview as my assistant.”
“Hey, that means you can replace Hilary.”
“No, I can’t. Besides, this guy is rude, and he’s a weirdo. I can’t imagine putting any of our charges in his hands.”
“Okay, whatever. By the way, I heard you and the dippy detective talking for a while. Did he have anything important to say?”
“Not much more than his usual warnings. But he did tell me to take a self-defense course.”
“Karate? Tae Kwon Do? Kickboxing? Sounds good to me.”
“Maybe so, but I don’t think I can do it. I’d hate hurting anyone, even for practice.”
Since Rudy had changed the subject, she forgot about the caller and thought further about Sam’s visit. In a far corner of her brain, she had known exactly what he was going to say about taking care of herself. Now that she was certain Thompson Veridot had been released from prison, her homeless friend’s spooky actions and the things he’d said in that note made more sense. Gary’s strange comments about seeing ghosts, his odd conversation with Pops, his need to spell out his wishes on paper were all his way of coping with an ugly situation.
Gary had been planning to die, and though he wasn’t sure when it would happen he knew there was only one person who wanted him dead. A man who held a grudge. The brother who blamed him for spending the last thirty years of his life in jail. And Gary, in his warped mind, thought that when he was gone, his friends Ellie and Rudy would know what to do about it.
She recalled how he’d admired her for discovering Professor Albright’s killer. How he’d given her a tin medal he’d found in a Dumpster that proclaimed its owner “The World’s Greatest Hero.” He must have figured she could continue the heroics and bring closure to his family’s story by catching his brother and putting him in prison for good.
“I doubt Gary expected you to actually capture his brother, Triple E. Maybe just point the cops in the right direction.”
“It doesn’t sound that way to me,” she told Rudy, holding the note she kept on her nightstand up to the light. “He says right here, ‘I’m counting on you to see to it justice is served once and for all.’ ” She heaved a breath. “He never mentions the police, just makes it sound as if he’s leaving it all in our, er, my hands.”
“The man had PTSD. You said so yourself. People like that aren’t responsible for what they say or do. Gary was confused.”
“I know he was, and that makes the situation more miserable. Imagine being so frightened you think evil lurks around every corner. You do what you can to keep the man who murdered your parents from getting a reward. And you ask your only friend—”
“Make that friends.”
She ran a hand over his head. “Gary entrusted us with what was left of his family’s fortune and expected us to take care of things.”
“Taking care of things means disposing of him and his property, not getting ourselves killed.”
“So we’ll be careful, watch our step, do like Sam said and walk where there’s good light and plenty of people. That doesn’t mean we can’t keep our eyes and ears open. We should talk to Pops. He sees everything that goes down on the Upper East Side. He’ll know if strangers have been asking questions.”
“But what if this Thompson creep is sneaky? Knows how to hide? Knows how to tail us?”
“Then we’ll be sneakier, hide better than he does, and learn how to lose a tail.”
Rudy sneezed his displeasure. “I don’t like the sound of this. For once I think Detective Dunce is right. Stay out of it and let the cops do their thing.”
“I’ll
try, but I’m not going to run from a monster who killed his own brother. Someone should tell Thompson what a wonderful man Gary grew into, no thanks to him.” She switched off her bedside lamp and rolled to face her pal. “Maybe Sam’s jumping to conclusions. It’s been thirty years. It’s possible Thompson never found him and Gary just thought he was being stalked. The killing was random, not on purpose.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Even if his brother had found him, he had to see that Gary lived in a cardboard box, ate from garbage cans, and led a pauper’s existence. What would make Thompson think there was still money to be had?”
“Beats me why humans act the way they do. Look at how many mistreat their innocent four-legged friends, and it doesn’t seem to bother them one bit.” He yawned. “Gary was sorta like an abandoned cat or dog, ya know? He looked for handouts, befriended people who treated him right, and wanted us to have everything that was his.”
She sniffed back a sob. “Keep it up and you’ll have me in tears.”
“Just don’t do anything stupid.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like Sam.”
“Who, me? Nuh-uh. Never.” He curled into a tight ball on the pillow. “What’s with him anyway, stickin’ his nose in our business like he cared?”
“I think he does care, in his own might-makes-right way. Don’t worry about Sam. I can handle him. Now go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Seconds later, gentle snores told her Rudy was out for the night. That’s when she faced another, more frightening truth. Kevin McGowan was handsome, intelligent, and fun to be with, not bossy or controlling. He seemed interested in what interested her, and he didn’t speak to her as if she was too stupid to live.
Sam more than matched Kevin in the hunk department, but he also had a lock on bossy and controlling, as well as making it sound as if she was a dope with a capital D.
But when Sam kissed her, Kevin disappeared from her brain. Her lips had melted against Sam’s and taken everything he had to give, reminding her all over again that he was strong, solid, and sexy as hell. She longed to be in his arms, where she felt protected and cared for even when she wanted to slap him silly.