“Whatcha’ got there?” Eddie took the candy from her hand and casually placed it back in the box.
“Hey, what’d you do that for?” Her voice showed her distress over losing the candy. “I want to eat that.”
Eddie picked up the box and inspected it. “Where’d you get this?” His calm tone gave her no cause for alarm.
“From you.” She frowned. That was cruel. Why would Eddie giving her something sweet and then taking it away? It took a second to realize the truth.
“I didn’t send you either of these,” he said with a slight nod and took a closer look at the roses.
“You didn’t?” she asked with a measure of weakness in her voice.
Eddie eyeballed the area around him in hopes of determining who he could trust. Seeing Victoria sitting at Rivera’s desk, he approached them.
“Are we cool now?” he asked Rivera, standing before them warily holding on to the candy and flowers.
“You’re one of us, LaCall,” Paul Rivera said while eyeing the items in Eddie’s hands.
Victoria’s face brightened, and Eddie could guess the thoughts roaming through her mind. If the girl’s expression was any indication, she liked candy.
“I need someone to take these to the lab.” Eddie acknowledged the objects he carried. “And whatever you do don’t eat the candy, or sniff the flowers too strongly,” he added, letting his gaze fall upon Victoria.
Paul took the things from Eddie and left with them.
Fear saturated Victoria as she followed him. “Paul…what’s going on?”
Rio watched Paul and Victoria leave with the gifts she’d thought had come from Eddie. “Hon…” she said to Eddie while her gaze lingered in the direction Paul and Victoria had disappeared.
“You didn’t eat any of the candy, did you?” Eddie asked, his nerves getting the better of him.
“No,” she said just under her breath. “I was about to.” Finally, she turned and looked at him. “Do you think there’s something wrong with the candy?”
“That’s what I intend to find out.” Eddie looked around the room for Switzer. The guy’s desk was vacant. “Where’s Switzer?” he asked, turning back to Rio.
“I don’t know,” she said with a lopsided shrug. “I haven’t seen him all morning. Come to think of it, I don’t recall seeing him yesterday, either.”
Rio’s statement coupled with the morning’s developments only confirmed what Eddie had been suspecting all along. Switzer had gone off the deep end.
“Why’d my dad call you to that murder scene this morning?” Rio asked, inspecting him with a scrutiny.
“Sit down.” Eddie guided her back to her desk. When she sat, he leaned against the side of her desk. “The deceased was a private investigator.”
“A PI? Why was a PI working for my father?”
“Because I asked him to put a tail on someone that the department couldn’t.”
“Who?” Anxiety cracked in her voice.
“Switzer and Naomi.”
“Who’s tail is dead?”
“Switzer’s.” A bit of justification filled Eddie’s tone.
“You think he killed that guy and sent me the flowers and candy?”
“It’s looking more and more that way.”
“You think he wants to kill me, don’t you?” Fear seeped out in her shaky voice.
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.”
* * *
Gabe Dalton explored the averse and vigilant faces sitting around the conference table. Mentally, he noted those in attendance: Laraquette, LaCall, Bradley, Rivera, and Simmons. Typically, Victoria Simmons wouldn’t be there, but she’d become a part of this thing when she agreed to go undercover for the FVC Unit. He saw no reason to exclude her now.
Somebody was missing though. “Where is Switzer?” Gabe asked, searching their faces again. “Did anyone advise him of the meeting?”
“Sir, no one’s seen him since day before yesterday,” Rivera said.
“Someone find out where he is.” Gabe didn’t give the guy’s absence much thought, adding, “When he does decide to grace us with his presence again…someone please inform him that his first stop is my office.” He’d purposefully hardened his tone, opting for scare tactics. He had no qualms about using any devices available to him to keep this bunch in line.
Sures, okays and will dos echoed around the table.
“So, Laraquette...” Gabe focused on Rio. “Has Perzinsky fingered Atkins—or anyone else for that matter?”
“No, sir.” Certainty resonated in her voice, yet she waited for the other shoe to drop. Rio had learned a long time ago to recognize the ambiguity in his vague tone and the false sense of security he always meant to project with it.
“You need to wrap it up and move on,” he said, and lowered the other shoe, “You’re wasting your time and the department’s money.”
“With all due respect, sir…I beg to differ,” she said.
“Atkins is not responsible.” Gabe shook his head.
“How can you be so sure?” Eddie spoke up, taking Rio’s side.
“It doesn’t make sense.” Gabe paused, his frustration mounting over his two best undercover agents seemingly losing their heads to the love bug. “A guy like Atkins needs a reason and a purpose to do anything. Trust me…he’s not about to play these amateurish games she’s got you so convinced of.”
“It makes perfect sense.” Rio snapped with a sharp laugh. “I can’t believe you don’t see it.”
“Wrap it up, Laraquette,” Gabe insisted with cautionary undertones. “I can believe that Perzinsky is a little more aware than he’s letting on. So concentrate on him for now. I don’t want to hear any more about who’s doing what until you squeeze a name out of him.” Gabe barked out his orders. “Is that clear?” he added, knowing she probably had no intention of refraining from continuing on with her present course.
Gabe decided to give her until tomorrow morning before he took matters into his own hands. Lester Perzinsky was their best bet for a solid break in the gambling case.
* * *
Paul Rivera moved quickly through the maze of desks, heading directly for Laraquette and LaCall. “Lab results,” he said, offering a sealed manila envelope.
Rio and Eddie stood, and Eddie moved around to the front of his desk, taking the envelope from Rivera. Securing his fingertip in a small opening at the envelope’s flap, he raked it against the seal and ripped it open. He snatched the contents out and scanned the document.
“Well?” Rio’s voice was a little shaky.
Eddie paused, letting the magnitude of the test results sink in. He cleared his throat and put extra effort into speaking calmly when he said, “The candy was poisoned. Strychnine.” He looked at Rio to see for himself that she was okay. “Luckily, the roses weren’t dusted with a powder form, so we don’t have to worry about everyone being exposed to an airborne version of the toxin.” Eddie could easily guess why that was. “However, one piece of candy contained more than enough poison to render a fatal dose.”
The whole thing made perfect sense and only served to confirm Switzer’s guilt in Eddie’s eyes. If it were anyone else who’d gone to the trouble of sending Rio roses and candy, and poison the candy but not the roses when a powder form would be just as easy to obtain—why wouldn’t they have dusted the flowers, too? The doer obviously meant to kill her, considering the amount of poison injected into each piece of candy. Why wouldn’t they have covered all their bases and included a light dusting on the roses—as kind of like and insurance policy?
Of course, anyone else in the vicinity would have inhaled the poison as well. Hum…it would appear the stalker was trying to spare Rio’s colleagues who just so happened to be around her. This reeked of Switzer.
And where the hell was Switzer, anyway?
Eddie folded the lab results and stuffed the paperwork back inside the envelope. He paused to gain control of his thoughts and feelings. He was determined to shield his
fear of losing Rio to a sicko’s vendetta. He’d thought he could protect her since he knew who the enemy was. Now he realized he was wrong. With Switzer playing dirty pool, Eddie felt like he was right back where he started—scared to death he was going to lose Rio to the guy’s vindictive campaign.
* * *
Eddie tapped on the door to Gabe’s office before opening it and popping his head inside. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Come in, LaCall.” Gabe waved him inside. Frustration colored his expression as he watched Eddie cross the room and take a seat. “Tell me about the connection between you and John Walters,” he said of the murder victim who’d recently been in the employment of James Laraquette.
Eddie thought about playing dumb. Briefly. After an inkling of consideration, he thought better of it and decided to tell his boss what he knew. “I asked Mr. Laraquette to put a tail on Blake Switzer and Naomi Thomas.”
“Let me get this straight, LaCall—” Gabe shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “You’re still following this Switzer angle? After searching his house and finding nothing?”
“Well, the fact that his tail is dead kind of collaborates my suspicions,” Eddie said. “And now with the candy and flowers that Rio’s received, and the fact that Switzer’s nowhere to be found….”
“I saw the lab results on the candy and flowers,” Gabe’s tone mellowed right along with his realization that someone was truly out to get Rio. “Whoever sent them, they certainly aren’t playing.”
“Considering that each piece of candy contained enough strychnine to kill an elephant…clearly, the stalker wanted Rio dead.” Eddie appeared to be still pondering that notion out loud rather than trying to convince Gabe.
“Or somebody,” Gabe said. “Think about it…strychnine takes what—thirty minutes or so to take effect?” He questioned Eddie with vague curiosity. “In half an hour’s time, how many people do you think could’ve wandered over to Rio’s desk to sample the candy?”
“If the stalker didn’t care who they took out in the process of getting to Rio...” The inquiry meandered out in Eddie’s questioning tone. “Why didn’t they just dust the flowers with a powder form of the toxin, too? As kind of like an insurance policy?”
Eddie had a point. The stalker didn’t care who ate the candy, so why not dust the flowers too?
For the first time, Gabe Dalton seriously considered that Blake Switzer—the object of Rio’s unrequited love—could be her stalker.
Gabe sighed heavily. “Send someone out to Switzer’s house and see if he’s there. Wherever he is, he should be escorted here in an official capacity.”
“Do you want me to go, sir?” Eddie asked hopefully.
“No,” he answered with a swift shake of the head. “You need to concentrate on Perzinsky…our time is running out. Plus, I’d like Switzer to be alive when he gets here.”
CHAPTER 30
RIO stopped outside Lester Perzinsky’s holding room long enough to gather her composure. She had to get Blake Switzer’s demented actions out of her mind, and the only way to do that was preoccupy herself with another case.
She camouflaged her face with ambiguity as she stormed into the room. She slammed the door behind her for good measure. The window pane rattled from the blow, and Lester jumped as if he’d been sleeping. He opened his eyes lazily and his gaze fell to the phone in her hands.
She sat down across from him and placed the telephone on the table in front of her. They eyed each other for a moment, as if in a crucial stare down where winner takes all. She had to be the winner. Only a few hours remained of the standard seventy-two hours they could hold Lester without charging him. If they couldn’t scare him into turning on Atkins, they’d have to charge him and then it was game over.
“Okay.” She spoke first, not necessarily giving in. “In case you don’t remember…we offered to put in a good word for you over at the Sunset if you helped us with the poker tournament. So what’s it going to be?” Her tone was just like her glare, cold and hard. “You want to be the police’s hero? Or would you rather wear the title of scapegoat and line the management’s pockets over there with more money than you could ever hope to steal from the casino?”
Uncertainty clouded Lester’s senses. She definitely had a point. That guy, Carpenter—the one who ran the place—he would undoubtedly blame Lester for every missing penny and then some. Perhaps if he cooperated with the cops, Carpenter wouldn’t be able to do that. Then again, assisting the cops meant crossing a man who, he’d heard, often killed simply for sport. Even so, Lester did not want to go to jail.
The girl grabbed the phone and scooted her chair back. She twisted around and plugged the cord into the phone jack on the wall behind her. And, as if she could see Lester’s inner struggle, she slammed the phone back down on the table.
She knew with a guy like Perzinsky she had to fight fire with fire. The only way to get to guys like him was to convince him that his mark was a bigger crook than he, and would most certainly find a way to benefit from Lester’s unfortunate luck. Unless, of course, he had someone vouching for him. Someone like the police.
Well, the police’s word probably wasn’t going to carry quite as much weight as Perzinsky hoped. Still, Rio would do as she promised and put in a good word for him if it meant she could get to the bottom of this tainted gambling mess. Only in Lester’s wildest imagination would he walk away unscathed. But, in the reality of the situation Rio knew, even if he didn’t, he was not going to walk away scot-free.
She eyed him a moment, and then stood as she picked up the receiver. Unyielding, she punched the zero button with her forefinger and sat down on the edge of the table facing Lester.
“Get me Calvin Carpenter over at the Golden Sunset,” she said into the phone, but kept her menacing glare on Lester. She could easily guess that he knew exactly who Carpenter was. After a moment’s pause, she added, “Thanks.” With a smirk, she glared at Perzinsky. “When I hear his voice on the other end of the line… our deal is off the table. I’m sure the brass over at the Golden Sunset will seal you under the jail, and then some. They’ll probably recoup millions from the insurance and line their pockets, saying you stole it from them.”
The uncertainty clouding his eyes moments before had faded, giving way to defeat. He raised his cuffed hands, “Okay…okay,” he said, caving in.
* * *
Gabe Dalton cast glances of suspicion and disbelief across his desk into the eyes of Rio and Eddie. Fidgeting in his chair, he’d heard what they’d said, he just couldn’t accept it.
“Perzinsky fingered Turner Atkins as the man who paid him to rig the poker tournament…and you believe him?” Gabe questioned them both with incredible poise, suppressing the urge to lunge across the desk and smack their heads together, hoping to knock some sense into their noggins.
“Why would he lie, making false accusations?” Eddie wondered, folding his arms across his chest and propping a foot up on his knee. “Especially about a guy like Turner Atkins.” He didn’t overlook the ridiculousness of that notion or the danger the idea could bring.
“Exactly.” Gabe sounded agreeable. “Why would he accuse a guy like Atkins…guilty or not?” He shook his head, as if he didn’t understand the reasoning behind the allegation regardless of its worth.
“Well...” Rio snorted. “Maybe because it’s true!” She still marveled at the ease with which Lester had said he’d been able to stack the decks of cards prior to them being unveiled at the designated tables at the beginning of each match in the poker tournament.
“Is Perzinsky on the inside?” Gabe inquired, the idea just coming into his mind. He couldn’t recall ever hearing the guy’s name mentioned before.
“No…” Rio’s voice lingered on as she mocked the notion. “Lester’s just an insignificant little man who stumbled upon what he so eloquently refers to as a cash cow.”
“He stumbled onto it?” Gabe asked, his face skewing into a bewildered state.
“Well..
.” Eddie chuckled. “It all started with a gold-digging girlfriend who wanted too much.” Eddie wasn’t overlooking the circumstances and Perzinsky’s lack of willpower that had put the guy in a position he’d probably never recover from.
“When Lester’s beer budget couldn’t keep up with Meredith’s champagne tastes…he resorted to desperate measures.” Rio summed it up simply. “Well, that’s the way he sees it, anyway.”
“So Perzinsky rounded up a stable of girls to assist him in his little markers’ scam.” Eddie waved one hand in the air and then laid it across his chest. “It was like a dream come true. For every girl that assisted him on a daily basis—as of recent, three or four a day—that meant a clear four hundred and fifty bucks for each one.”
“That still doesn’t explain how he got mixed up with Atkins.” Gabe shrugged, dismissing any possible connection so far.
Rio glanced at Eddie, raised her eyebrows and tilted her head. “I guess you had to be there.”
“The problem arose when Perzinsky approach a woman who—as he put it—was connected to Turner Atkins.” Eddie continued on with the details before Gabe had a chance to get riled up at Rio’s comical wit. “Word got back to Turner and he summoned the lowly pit boss for a little discussion.”
“That’s when Perzinsky thought he was done for,” Rio said. “But to his surprise Atkins laid his own marker at Lester’s feet…reserving the right to call it in some day.”
“Right after Rio busted him a couple months ago, Atkins did just that,” Eddie said, as if the mob boss calling in his favor shouldn’t have been a great surprise to Lester.
The expression on Gabe’s face perked up as he glanced optimistically back and forth between Rio and Eddie.
“Yes,” Rio said, anticipating his next question, “Perzinsky has visited Turner in jail…more than once, in fact.”
“Does he know why Atkins wants the tournament rigged in such an indiscernible fashion?” Gabe asked.
“That, he doesn’t know.” Rio shrugged. “Can you blame him? Guys like Lester don’t ask guys like Turner why they’re doing anything.”
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