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Changing Tides

Page 12

by Veronica Mixon


  “Because you’re a genius?” I almost managed to keep the snark out of my voice.

  He raised his hand in acquiesce. “True. But I have a secret weapon.”

  His eyes brightened. He adopted his closing argument face. I sat and leaned back against the sofa cushion. Oration was coming, nothing to do but listen.

  “I use the information in this to read my witnesses.” He tapped the book. “Know when to push, when to back off.” He brought his hand forward and back to demonstrate. “I’ve studied eight books on the subject, but this one is the BA bible.” His eyes twinkled like a self-help guru imparting secret knowledge. His expectant face waited for my comment.

  I had nothing.

  He leaned forward, lowered his voice. “I use a BA to select jurors.”

  “BA?”

  “Behavioral analyst.” He gazed heavenward. “Like Nathan Parsi.”

  “Are you saying that if I hired you to represent me in court, you’d pay someone three hundred dollars an hour to help you pick the jurors?”

  He shot me a-don’t-be-absurd look. “No.” He pointed a finger in my direction. “You’d pay him.” He removed a prepackaged phone from his briefcase and laid it on the sofa cushion.

  I’d be checking his monthly statements a little closer. I picked up the phone. “What gives?”

  “It’s a burner.”

  “I know what it is. Why’d you bring one?” I refrained from mentioning the one in my desk drawer and the two in my briefcase. I didn’t want to give Cedar more reasons for additional monolog.

  “I’m going to give you a two-minute lesson on what it means to be in the crosshairs of the Feds.”

  “That would be Cal. Not me.”

  “Federal marshals have made themselves mighty cozy at Spartina.” His expression left little doubt he considered me naive. “If the marshal doesn’t already have you under surveillance, he will soon.”

  The gray Ford Explorer on my tail stopped me from arguing. “I am being followed. I’m sure Nathan’s hoping Cal makes contact.”

  Cedar shot me another one of his don’t-be-absurd looks. Those seemed to be a particular favorite today. “Don’t assume your cousin’s the marshal’s only suspect.”

  “You’re implying the Feds believe I’m mixed up with the cartel?”

  “Not Erica, but the marshal. He doesn’t trust you. I see it in his eyes.” He smacked the BA bible. “I know the signs.”

  Before today, I’d have believed Cedar’s idea was as loony as a Bugs Bunny cartoon.

  He stood. “I have another appointment.”

  “I’ll call you when Ben and Cal get here.”

  Cedar stabbed a finger in my direction. “Don’t let the marshal catch you playing detective. Cal coming to you on his own is one thing, but having a private investigator makes you look cagey.”

  “Cagey?” I gave him a Roslyn “tsk.”

  “Appears suspicious to hire someone to find your cousin when a federal agent has informed you they’re looking for him.” He pointed to the book. “And read that. It’ll even the playing field. If you need me for anything you don’t want the Feds hearing”—he picked up the burner—“use this.”

  I rose to walk him out. “I’ll be sure to carry it with me.” Keeping my phones straight would be tricky. Maybe I really should label them in code just to be safe.

  Cedar chugged the last of his water. “Call your investigator and tell him to hold off coming here. I’ll work out a more secure meeting place. And you should plan to leave for Florida. Spend time with your son and mother until this blows over.”

  “As soon as we get Calvin squared with the marshal.” And we talk through the dilapidated warehouses, bogus improvements, and the ramifications of me signing fraudulent financials for the past three years. “I’ll leave right after our meeting tomorrow.” My stomach burned, and even though I was starving, I knew it wasn’t from lack of food.

  We walked down the hall and met Samantha coming out of her office. She gave Cedar a tight smile and handed me a file. I caught sight of Beth through the lobby window, wide-eyed and scurrying up the steps. Cedar stepped to the side and let her pass.

  She planted a hand on her hip. “Did you know Cal’s wanted for questioning?”

  Cedar shook his head, which I took as a warning to say as little as possible. I looked past him to the Explorer still parked in the same spot. My day had turned busier than the corner Starbucks.

  I waved a hand toward my office. Beth spun a half-circle and marched down the hall. Maybe she knew Calvin was on his way and her act a charade. I massaged the two-inch spot between my eyes. A migraine. A perfect cap to my day.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I shut my office door, an unusual occurrence no doubt causing a few comments in the break room, and guided Beth to the sofa. She folded her full height, all six feet, onto the sofa and slung her leather carryall to the far cushion.

  “I’ve been trying to reach you all morning.” I placed Cedar’s BA bible on the side table and eased into an adjacent wing back chair.

  In the past, Calvin’s wife had downplayed her looks, with oversized sack dresses, and arranged her long straight hair into messy buns. Today, her makeup was perfectly applied and with a sassy new hairstyle eight inches shorter and three shades lighter framing her stunning gold-flecked eyes, she could pass for a Milan runway model. And hair wasn’t the only thing Beth had shed; she was fifty pounds lighter.

  She showcased her new style in black jeans that hugged all the way to her ankles, five-inch wedge sandals, and a short yellow jacket showcasing what appeared to be newly acquired cleavage. My cousin’s wife had upped her game.

  She twisted a two-carat diamond solitaire originally worn by my great-grandmother around her finger. “Did you know Erica Sanchez is looking for Calvin?”

  No idle chitchat. No how you doing? How’s your son? Communication Barry style—getting to the point was practically our family motto. “There are a lot of people looking for Cal, me included. Do you know where he is?”

  She swept bangs from her forehead, slid her hands down her thighs, and leaned forward. There was an edge to her movements, like a cheetah preparing to pounce. “Why do you want him?”

  “Did Cal ask you to meet him here? He needs to talk to Cedar before Nathan Parsi finds him.”

  “Parsi?” Referring to her tone as indignant would be a mammoth underplay. “You’re talking about the marshal who showed up with Erica? They claim Calvin’s disappeared, and they don’t believe I have no idea where he is.”

  “Calvin didn’t call, let you know where he was last night?” An itch of misgiving wound its way up my spine.

  “Call me? Hardly.” Her curt voice matched her expression. But doubt must’ve shown on my face because she shrugged. “We’re separated.”

  “You’re not living at Spring Street?”

  “Not anymore.” Her eyes were a beautiful golden brown, but I could see sadness in them.

  “I saw Calvin at your house yesterday morning. He didn’t mention you’d left.”

  “You came to our house?” A curious note seeped into her voice. “Why?”

  “To discuss Barry Island.”

  “What about the island?”

  “A drug cartel is using the land.”

  Beth didn’t flinch, but she did tilt back a couple of inches.

  “Didn’t Erica and Nathan explain why they wanted Calvin?” I asked.

  She shot up, knocked her shin against the coffee table. A Maya tribal mask toppled out of a wooden stand, but she didn’t pay any attention. She stood three feet from my chair, hands at her waist, fingers digging into her hips. “Are you the one that told the police Cal’s involved? Is that why they’re trying to find him?”

  “Of course not.” I had to work not to let my frustration show. “I went to your house to warn Cal about the DEA’s interest in our island.”

  “Don’t you mean your island?” Her face might be flushed with anger, but her eyes held the pain of o
ur past. However sleek she appeared, fear fringed her movements.

  I softened my tone. “Cal didn’t show for work after my visit, and Nathan and Erica are convinced he’s skipped town. I’m trying to find him before they do. If Cal’s involved with this drug ring, he could go to jail. I’m hoping Cedar can make a deal.” Based on Cedar’s assessment, I hesitated to promise anything more. “I thought we’d found Cal this morning, but something must’ve happened. I’m still waiting to hear back.”

  “We? Who’s we?” She paced in front of the sofa.

  “I hired a private investigator.”

  “To find Calvin?”

  “Yes.”

  Desperation, or a close cousin, slid into her eyes. “What proof do you have that Cal has anything to do with this drug business? Why do you accept he’s guilty so easily?”

  My head pounded, my stomach churned. I needed aspirin, a Tagamet, and a case of Sauvignon Blanc. “For starters, the boat.”

  She sat on the far edge of the sofa, picked up her carryall, and hugged it to her body. “What boat?”

  “The Grady White Calvin bought.”

  She shook her head. “We don’t own a boat.”

  “Cal does. And Erica says it’s used to recover drugs.”

  She hunched her shoulders but said nothing.

  If Beth’s visit wasn’t on Cal’s behalf, I couldn’t imagine why she was here. And I didn’t buy the confused act. “Cal’s boat retails for over a hundred grand. Title’s clear, which means he paid cash. Hard to believe you were unaware that much money vanished from your accounts.”

  She glanced down. Her fingers twisted around her purse handle, and pink splotches crept from her neck into her cheeks. “We keep our finances separate.”

  I waited for her to say more. She didn’t. “You don’t know what Calvin does with your money?” Hundreds of thousands had been funneled out of his accounts. Could she be that clueless?

  She straightened the tribal mask and ran her fingers over the smooth jade finish. “This is from Central America, isn’t it? I’ve always wanted to travel.” She gazed at the globe in the corner. “We’ve never been to Asia, Europe, Canada, or even to Mexico. Cal claims we can’t afford it. I don’t believe him. Over the last two years, he’s gone more than he’s home. He has at least three phones, and they ring all hours of the night. Who needs more than one cell phone?”

  I adopted my boardroom poker face.

  Beth drew a shaky breath. “I know he has another bimbo.”

  She lifted her chin in a challenge, and I realized she was waiting for me to confirm or deny her suspicions.

  “Doesn’t matter.” She swept her hand though the air. “I’m tired of Calvin’s lies. Tired of his other women. I’m leaving him.” She straightened her spine, slipped on a composed façade so fast it stole the denial poised on the tip of my tongue.

  My soul recognized the kindred spirit of a woman living through infidelity. The denial. The self-blame. The hidden heartbreak.

  “My mom’s in Alabama,” Beth said. “Two months ago, she had a heart attack, her second this year. I’m taking her with me to Colorado.”

  “You’re going to Colorado?”

  “I’ve accepted a management position at a clinic in Denver. I want to be as far from Savannah and Cal as possible.”

  I heard a noise outside and went to look through the backdoor’s window. Hoped it was Calvin, because this was his mess. He could clean it up. But the noise came from two boys kicking a soccer ball down the alley.

  The tension in my office was so thick you could chew it. I struggled and finally opened the latch on the antique window. Drew a long deep breath. The smells and sounds of summer assaulted my senses. Hot tar melting under the searing sun, confederate jasmine blooming on a trellis by the back stairs, the sound of tourists laughing their way through the park.

  If Beth wasn’t here on Cal’s behalf, it was time to find out why she came. “You want a coffee, or water? I have a nice selection of tea.”

  “Nothing, thanks.”

  I went to the bar and took my time choosing a coffee pod, popped it in a Keurig sitting on the bar. “When are you planning to leave for Colorado?”

  “I was packing my car when Erica and the marshal showed up.”

  I carried my coffee to the sofa and sat beside her.

  “Erica and that marshal said I couldn’t leave town until they found Calvin. Can they do that?” She gripped my free hand. “Can they keep me in Savannah?”

  “Did you tell them you planned to leave?”

  “No.” She released my hand to massage the space between her eyes. “I was scared to say anything. Erica peppered me with questions, and I couldn’t think straight. Do you think I can leave?”

  Her distress seemed sincere. Maybe she only wanted guidance. I patted her knee. “I don’t know, but I’ll call and ask Cedar.” I went to my desk and picked up my phone. Remembered Cal’s bank balances. “Do you need money?”

  “I planned to ask you for enough to move.” Her voice trailed off.

  “I’ll cut you a check.” I put the phone down. This conversation might be better on one of the throwaway phones.

  “I don’t need money anymore.” She wiped a tear with the back of her hand and sniffed. “I found a package in my suitcase lining.”

  I took a second to unravel her words. “You found money in a suitcase?”

  “Yes.” She extracted a tissue from her purse and blew her nose.

  “How much?”

  “Thirty thousand.” Her whispering voice crushed the last hope of Cal’s innocence.

  “That’s a lot of cash to keep in a suitcase.”

  She fisted a hand and covered her heart. “I told Cal I was leaving last week. He knew I’d find it when I packed.”

  Yeah, he’s a regular Mother Theresa.

  I made the call to Cedar, got his voicemail, and sent a text asking for a call back. “Ben, my investigator, thought he had a lead on Calvin’s whereabouts this morning. Cedar doesn’t think Cal should come here, but I haven’t been able to reach Ben or Cal to change the plan. I don’t even know for sure if Ben’s found Cal.”

  Beth fiddled with the zipper inside her carryall, and then pushed the purse aside. She stood and drifted to the bookshelves, ran her finger across the bindings of the books. Turned and walked to the bar, studied the coffee and tea pods. Then meandered back to the bookshelves.

  The window overlooking the square was a magnet. I walked over and tilted the blinds. The Explorer had moved into a space two slots closer to my front door. “Have you noticed anyone following you?”

  When she didn’t answer, I glanced over my shoulder.

  Her forehead was one giant wrinkle. “What?”

  “I’m being followed. Marshal Parsi’s probably hoping Calvin will contact me. Makes sense he’d take the same bet on you. Have you noticed a car hanging around your house or the hospital?”

  A muscle ticked in her jaw. “No.”

  A woman, or, at least, someone with shoulder length dark hair, sat in a white car across from the Methodist Church. All the other vehicles around the park were empty. I let the possibility go for now.

  I finished my coffee and went to the bar to make another cup. God knew I didn’t need the caffeine, but it gave my hands something to do while we waited for Cedar to call back. “If you leave for Colorado, Erica’s going to assume you’ve run away with Calvin.”

  The book Beth held slipped from her hand and landed on the floor. “I’m not going anywhere with Calvin. My start date at the clinic is in ten days.” She retrieved the book and shoved it back in place. “It’s all the time I have to pack my mother’s house, put it on the market, and drive to Colorado. I should’ve left two weeks ago.”

  I programmed the Keurig for a cup of tea, looked over my choices, and opted for the Zen green over the calm herbal. Finding my Zen sounded good right now. “Why haven’t you already left?”

  “I’m cashing out my 401(k) and it’s taking longer
than I thought. But with the thirty thousand, I can hire a mover and have enough left to get settled.”

  “You’ll take a heavy penalty if you cash in your retirement.”

  “It’s my only savings.”

  “You’re not broke, Beth.” My tea finished brewing, and I carried the steaming cup to my desk. “Cal has monthly payments from the trust fund.” Since our real estate contracts were now in jeopardy, I didn’t mention the plan to cash him out of the business early.

  “Cal gets monthly trust payments? How much?”

  Silence bounced off the walls.

  It was an odd time for me to stick to my fiduciary responsibilities. But as an ex-banker, a multitude of ingrained legal issues kept me from saying more. Granddad only had two beneficiaries, Calvin and me. As trustee, I was required to remain faithful to his wishes and skirt any controversy that might lead to a lawsuit. “Our cash is tight, but the important thing is you and Cal are far from penniless. Once you’re established in Colorado, I suggest you hire an attorney and protect your future.”

  Glazed golden eyes stared over my shoulder.

  “Do you understand how important this is? If you file for a divorce or even a legal separation, make certain your attorney knows that Cal has a sizable inheritance in his future.”

  “I have to be in Colorado and ready to begin my job in ten days. If you’re right and Cal’s involved with this drug ring…” She held her face with both hands. “A nurse practitioner can’t have a drug runner for a husband.”

  I checked Ben’s secret email account, but there was nothing new in the inbox. I sent a message asking him to call me before bringing Cal to the office. But if Ben had found Cal, they should’ve been here two hours ago. “Do you have any idea where Cal might hide?”

  “It’s Cal, Kate.” Beth’s face twisted as if controlled by dark ugly thoughts. “Any number of women would give him protection. Even a few of his poker buddies might risk it.”

  “I need names.”

  She took a deep, sorrowful, humming breath that went deeper than words. “I gave a list of names to Erica this morning.”

  “Give them to me.” I grabbed a pen and pad from my desk and joined her.

 

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