by M. Z. Kelly
We all clinked glasses, then Robin looked at me and softened his tone. “At least you know that maybe he’s alive and out there somewhere. I think things are finally going to turn around for you. Maybe that’s what that Pythia person meant by the butterfly. I remember reading somewhere that a poet once described butterflies as flowers that can fly.”
Natalie agreed. “Kate’s gonna sprout wings and fly off to a tropical island.”
I was about to respond when there was a loud explosion, shattering the front window of Robin’s condo.
Someone was shooting at us!
***
I got to work late the next morning because I’d spent the night with Robin. We had called the police, but no shooter had been found. The officers speculated that it was a random incident, since half the city was armed, and there had been some recent gang activity in the area. I wasn’t convinced and was able to talk Robin into going away with his boyfriend, Adam, for a few days.
After dragging myself to my workstation, I exchanged pleasantries with Olivia. I asked her if she got hold of Danica Andrews.
“She finally returned my calls late yesterday and agreed to meet with us this morning.” She glanced over at Leo and Al, who were walking to Lieutenant Byrd’s office. “We’re supposed to meet with Byrd about what Al found in Garth Spence’s bank accounts.”
Bernie and I followed Olivia to the lieutenant’s office. After my big dog settled into a corner, Al said, “Nice of you to finally get to work.”
“Sorry. I had a long night.”
“Everything okay?” the lieutenant asked.
“Fine.” I looked at Al and Leo. “What did you find out?”
Al had a big smile on his face as he passed around copies of our victim’s bank statements and explained what he’d learned. “There was activity in two accounts, about a week before Gina Spence was murdered. The withdrawals amounted to close to ten thousand dollars, no doubt payments to whoever did the hit on our victim and her boyfriend.”
Olivia and I studied the statements for a minute, before she said, “One withdrawal is for $3,500, the other for $6,500. I wonder why there were two separate withdrawals in different amounts.”
“Gina was the down payment. After John ate it, Garth paid off the balance of what was owed.”
“Maybe there’s a more rational explanation for the withdrawals,” I said.
“And maybe I’m Wonder Woman. Our boy Garth found out his wife was a cheater, so he hired somebody to take her out, then her lover.”
Leo spoke up, trying to insert some reason into the conversation. “We should know more when we talk to him this morning.”
“Let’s nail it down,” Byrd said. He looked at Olivia. “Did you get hold of the victim’s daughter?”
“Kate and I have an appointment to see her this morning.”
“Let’s hope all this pans out. If it doesn’t, the captain is probably going to shuffle the deck, give us another case, since we’re short-handed.”
“What’s cooking?” Leo asked.
“Not sure about all the details, but someone was shot outside a restaurant on the boulevard last night. If I get more information, I’ll fill you in.”
After our meeting ended, Olivia and I stopped at Dirty Ray’s Coffee Shop on the way to our meeting with Danica Andrews. Bernie accepted a piece of my muffin after we took seats on the patio overlooking the city. The morning was clear, but cool, as I told Olivia about my night.
“A butterfly,” Olivia said, after she’d heard about our meeting with Pythia. “It sounds like a strange evening, but I think it’s a good sign.”
“Everyone says that, but, so far, nothing good has happened. And then there was the shooting.”
“Shooting?”
“Someone shot the front window out of Robin’s apartment after we stopped by to tell him about Lindsay. The police investigated and canvassed the area, but nothing turned up. I told Joe about it, and he’s trying to arrange protection for Robin.”
“Do you think Caine might have been involved?”
I sighed as my phone rang. “I think anything’s possible, but I have no idea.”
I saw that the call was from Joe and excused myself to take it. After saying hello, Joe gave me some good news. “Just wanted to let you know that we have a team that will be watching your brother from a distance.”
“I appreciate that. There’s nothing new on this end about the shooter.”
“Maybe it was just an errant shot, like they speculated.”
“You really believe that?”
He took a moment, then said, “We’ve both been at this too long to believe in coincidences.”
“Do you think Caine could still be in this area?”
“Doubtful, but one of his associates could be. The heat is on, so Caine’s probably lying low, maybe in another state.”
“What about his brother, Isaac? Did you find out anything more about him?”
“Yeah. It looks like he ended up in Brazil in 2015.”
I remembered they’d traced Caine to the country around the same time. “He must have also hooked up with the Rylands.”
“Probably. He was in the Porto Alegre area.”
“Do we know if he’s still there?”
“No word, but we have people checking.”
I sighed. “It sounds like we have a big bunch of nothing.”
“So far, but don’t give up. How about dinner tonight?”
“Let me see how my day goes. I’ll call you later.”
I returned to the table and told Olivia about Joe’s call. She was quiet after I told her about Isaac Caine being in Brazil, probably meeting up with his brother and the Rylands. After giving her a moment, and still not getting a response, I said, “What’s on your mind?”
“Just a hunch, but sometimes that’s all you’ve got.” She finished her coffee. “Did you ever think what’s been playing out was hatched in Brazil with the Rylands? And, when Harlan died, Nathan and Isaac changed the game plan. They killed Harlee and then made plans to take your sister.”
“But why would they want Lindsay?”
Olivia’s dark eyes held on me. She reached over, touched my hand, and said a word that filled me with dread. “Leverage.”
TWENTY-FIVE
“I’m not sure I want to hear this,” I told Olivia, “but what do you mean by leverage?”
“It’s just conjecture, but maybe Caine thinks Harlee told you something about your bio-dad before she died, either who he is or where he is.”
“And they took Lindsay so that I would tell them what I know.”
“Maybe.” Her voice softened. “I don’t want to alarm you, but I think it’s something we have to keep in mind.” She checked the time on her phone. “We’d better get going or we’ll be late.”
As Olivia drove us to Pasadena, where Danica Andrews lived, what she’d said haunted me. If Lindsay had been taken to make me talk about what Harlee had said, it put me in an impossible position. They would want information about my bio-dad that I didn’t have. That would only put Lindsay in further jeopardy. I decided that I would need to talk to Joe about that possibility and try to come up with a game plan.
John McVey’s daughter lived in a small duplex apartment in South Pasadena. After ringing the doorbell several times, we heard a commotion inside and someone calling out, “Just a moment.”
It took Andrews another five minutes before she made it to the door. “Sorry. I’ve got a chicken that thinks she owns the place.”
Olivia smiled. “A chicken?”
Andrews brushed shoulder length brown hair out of her eyes. “It belongs to a friend.” We heard a clucking sound down the hallway before she went on. “She works at the local community college, and they’re developing a hen house as part of the agricultural program.” She saw that Bernie had his eyes fixed on the hallway. “Is he going to be okay?”
I gave Bernie the settle command. “Yes, he’s just not used to hearing a farm animal in an apar
tment.”
She laughed. “I get it. Let’s sit at the kitchen table, and I’ll tell you about my rotten father—or, I guess I should say, my rotten dead father.”
We took seats in the kitchen, and Andrews brought over glasses of water. Olivia began the discussion by asking about her relationship with her father.
“My relationship involves memories of him being drunk and cheating on my mother. I don’t know how she put up with him as long as she did.”
“He had a drinking problem?”
A nod. “He drank, cheated, stole, and lied. Other than that, he was a swell guy.”
“How did he steal and lie?”
“My mother worked long hours when I was a little girl. She was almost never home. In a sense, he stole my childhood, while she supported us. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, he also cheated on her and lied about it.”
“I was under the impression that your father worked at the Herald-Press for a number of years.”
“He worked as a stringer for several small newspapers when I was little. When he finally got the job at the Herald, he basically went into work when he wanted. I don’t know why they didn’t fire him.”
“And you said he stole,” I said. “Were you talking about him taking money?”
“I heard rumors that he embezzled some money from the newspaper to pay his debts, but I don’t know if it’s true.”
“What kind of debts did he have?”
“He squandered every cent he had and was always behind on the rent and car payments.”
I saw that her emotions were surfacing and said, “I’m sorry. It sounds like it wasn’t a very happy childhood.”
“You haven’t heard the worst of it.” Her gaze drifted off, and she sighed. “He molested me when I was a teenager. It went on until I was old enough to fight back. Mother doesn’t know, so I would appreciate you not saying anything to her.”
I glanced at Olivia, who had her own childhood issues with her father. “Of course,” I said.
We gave her a moment, before Olivia said, “Your father was murdered three days after a woman he was having an affair with was also killed. She was a school teacher named Gina Spence. Is her name familiar to you?”
We got a headshake just before the chicken in the bedroom cackled. It broke some of the tension in the room, and we all chuckled. Bernie lifted his head, still trying to make sense of the sound.
Olivia went on. “What about other women? Or anyone who might have wanted to harm your father? Does anyone come to mind?”
“Other than me, not really.” She met Olivia’s eyes. “And, just so you know, I didn’t kill him.”
“We understand that, a couple years back, your father wrote an article about Sorin Chemicals,” I said. “It had to do with birth defects caused by their products. Did anyone ever mention that being a problem for him?”
She hesitated before answering, probably reflecting on what happened. “I do remember the article coming out, but we never really talked about it, just like we never talked about anything.”
Olivia made a note on her pad, then said, “Did your mother ever mention your father’s reaction to the article?”
“Not really. They were having problems and were barely speaking to one another at the time.”
We spent another hour with Andrews, not getting much that seemed useful. The chicken in the bedroom began cackling again as we rose from the table and began heading toward the door.
“I’m going to have to do something with her before the neighbors complain,” Andrews said.
“Probably a good idea,” Olivia agreed. “Maybe you can find a garage to temporarily put her in.”
“Maybe.” We stopped at the door. “My aunt has a ranch in Riverside. It would be the perfect place for her, but that’s not an option.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“You don’t know?”
I looked at Olivia, back at her. “Know what?”
“Geeze, I thought Mom would have told you.” She brushed her hair back and went on. “As I mentioned, my mom put up with my dad’s cheating for years. She finally left him only because he was having an affair with her sister.”
TWENTY-SIX
“You need to get dressed.”
The young woman, who had spent months using the alias Emily Langford, sat up on the sofa and rubbed her eyes. She’d been asleep and tried to focus, but her thoughts were scrambled.
“Where am I?” she finally managed to ask.
“The Underground.”
Lindsay stared at the woman for a long moment, wondering if she’d heard her correctly. “I don’t understand.”
The woman walked over and pulled a chair close to the sofa. “My name is Cassandra. This place is where you will live unless we’re given orders to move.”
Lindsay rubbed her aching head and tried to piece together what happened. She remembered calling the museum, telling Robert that she was sick and wouldn’t be at work. After that, she had rushed into the city.
“Oh, God, no.” The jumbled pieces of what had happened began to fall into place. She remembered going to Derek’s office, walking in the park, and then the man, the one who had been at the museum and on TV.
“You’re beginning to remember,” Cassandra said, fixing her blue eyes on her. “That’s good.”
Lindsay looked at her, trying to come to terms with what happened. There were tears in her eyes as she remembered what the man had done to Derek. “Why?” she cried.
Cassandra folded her arms. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No. I want to know where I am and why this is happening.”
A thin smile found her abductor’s pretty face. “Your questions will all be answered, but, first, you need to get dressed.” She stood and went over to a chair, where she gathered up an armload of clothes. “There are several outfits here. I suggest something that’s modest and comfortable.”
“Why? What’s going to happen?”
Cassandra stood and left the room without answering her question.
Lindsay lay back on the sofa, images of Derek falling to the ground, and the red stain on his shirt, hitting her like a punch to the gut. The man with the silver hair had shot him. But why? Then she remembered there had been a sudden pain in her arm, and her world had faded to black. She sat up again and pulled up the sleeve of her blouse, seeing the raised, swollen injection site. She had been drugged.
Who was the man, and why was this happening? Then, all at once, the terrible logic about what had happened registered. The Swarm. She had been taken by the group once before and held prisoner. Now she was certain it was happening again. Her thoughts then drifted to her sister. Did Kate know what was happening? She and the FBI agent had come for her before. Would they find her again?
Lindsay looked up as Cassandra came back into the room. She was with an older woman, who was angry and shouted at her.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” the hateful older woman demanded.
Lindsay started to answer, but the woman’s hand came down, slapping her hard across the face. She shrank back, even as the fists rained down on her. Why was she so angry? Who was this woman?
When the beating finally stopped, the woman picked up some clothes and tossed them at her. Her words shot panic and fear down Lindsay’s spine. “Get dressed. NOW. We are scheduled to arrive at the Chamber tonight.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
I spent the remainder of my day at Hollywood Station catching up on paperwork. Olivia had a subpoena to testify in court on a prior case, and I got a text from Leo telling me that Garth Spence had called in sick but wasn’t home. They were going to canvass the neighbors, see if they could get any gossip about his relationship with his wife.
I got home a little after six, where I found my friends with Otto and his new boyfriend. Felix wore an outfit that reminded me of Robin Hood as he argued with my friends about the need for our kitchen to be remodeled.
“It’s a wonder you haven’t all suffered fo
od poisoning in that cramped little space. If you don’t let me remodel, I’m going to find Otto a job in a home that suits his talents. You can all then fend for yourselves in this dilapidated hovel.”
Natalie came off the sofa, angry at the possibility that we might lose our butler, at the same time making fun of Felix’s outfit. “You need to watch what you’re sayin’, or Mo and me will chase you and your merry men down the street.”
Felix put his hands on his hips. “What, exactly, does that mean?”
“It means you ain’t stealing our manservant,” Mo said, also coming off the sofa and pointing a finger at him.
Otto tried to keep the peace. “Oh, my. I’m sure we can work something out. I have no intention of leaving this domicile.”
Felix levelled his eyes on Otto. “Are you saying you would choose these...?” He looked at my friends. “...these nitwits over me?”
“Who you callin’ nitwits?” Natalie and Mo said simultaneously.
“You!” Felix bellowed. “Your style and class are one rung below working class.”
“I think you’d better leave,” Otto told him. “We’ll talk later.”
“I have no intention of leaving until I’ve aired my concerns.”
“We’ll see ‘bout that.” Mo went over and took hold of Robin Hood by the belt loop at the rear of his pants and marched him to the door.
Before Mo slammed the door on him, Natalie yelled, “And, just so you know, that ridiculous outfit sucks! Stickin’ feathers up your butt doesn’t make you a chicken!”
After Felix was gone, she came over to us, apparently seeing our confusion. “I heard that line somewhere and couldn’t let it go to waste.”
My friends then went over to Otto. “You gonna be okay?” Mo asked him.
Otto sighed and blinked several times. “I’m not sure this new lifestyle is working out for me. Maybe I should forget about relationships.”
“Nonsense,” Natalie said. “Me and Mo will find you a guy.” She looked at me. “Even Kate found somebody. Sort of.”
I glared at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”