Hide and Snoop (The Odelia Grey Mysteries)

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Hide and Snoop (The Odelia Grey Mysteries) Page 20

by Jaffarian, Sue Ann


  I smacked my steering wheel with the palm of my hand, triggering a loud, short blast of my horn. “I have nothing to do with the Holts or with Mother,” I yelled. “Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.” I smacked my horn with each word, not caring if the people around me thought I was in the throes of road rage. I was enraged, but at Fehring.

  “Mother told me she doesn’t kill kids. She also seems to have a soft spot for me. You know, like Dev Frye.” I didn’t know if throwing Detective Fehring’s earlier words back at her made any impact on her thick skull, but I didn’t care. “So she turned down the rest of the job.” I took another deep breath and wished I was back in the hot tub. “I don’t think Mother has found Erica yet.”

  After a pregnant pause, Fehring said, “We found out Mayfield left the country sometime Thursday night.”

  “Where did she go? To the Caribbean, where her parents live?”

  “You don’t need to know that.”

  I curled my lip at the phone.

  “Where is Mother now?” the detective asked.

  “I don’t know. She disappeared like smoke as soon as she warned me. Now can we get back to saving the lives of Lily and Zee?”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Stuck on the 5, coming in from Los Angeles. I’m heading for South Coast Plaza.”

  “No,” Fehring snapped. “Don’t go there. The police will take care of Lily and your friend. If the killers are there and see you, it might complicate things.”

  “But—”

  “No buts about it, Odelia. I forbid you to go to the mall.”

  “Forbid me? You forbid me?” I stomped my foot on the floor of my car, thankful I’d had the presence of mind to use my left foot and not my right, which was alternating between the gas and brake pedals, with an emphasis on brakes.

  “You show up at the mall, Ms. Grey, and I will arrest you for obstructing justice. You got that?”

  I didn’t know if Fehring could do that or not, but I didn’t want to test her on it. She already didn’t like me and seemed like the type to hold a grudge. “Okay. I won’t go to the mall. But I want to know the minute they’re okay.”

  My phone gave off a tone that told me I had another call coming in. It was Greg.

  “My husband’s on the other line,” I told Fehring.

  “Fine. Just remember what I said about you going anywhere near that mall. For once I’m thankful for Southern California traffic. When you do get to OC, come straight to the police station. I have questions for you—lots of questions.”

  Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

  twenty-four

  “Honey,” I said as soon as Greg was on the line. “Detective Fehring just told me Dev is in the hospital.”

  “Yeah, she told me the same thing. I’m trying to find out what’s going on, but no one will tell me anything. Don’t know if it’s because he was attacked or if he’s ill. I even tried calling Beverly but just got voice mail. Are you still on your way to South Coast?”

  “Fehring forbade me to go to the mall. She wants me to come to the station for questioning.”

  I could have sworn my husband was stifling a small laugh. “Are you going to listen to her or be pig-headed and go to the mall anyway?”

  “I’m not sure. She really chafes my hide.”

  “I know. She’s all sharp edges. But I want you to listen to her.”

  “But it’s Zee, and she’s in danger because of me.”

  “No, she’s not, Odelia. Because of you, she’ll be safe. No one knew Lily would be in danger when the Washingtons agreed to take care of her.”

  “Well, seems you’ll both get your way. Traffic on the 5 is moving so slow, the mall will be decorated for Christmas by the time I get there.”

  My phone was at about 50 percent power, so as soon as I finished talking with Greg, I dug into my glove compartment and found my cell phone charger for the car. It was easy to set up, considering traffic was hardly moving. The last thing I wanted was another dead phone incident, especially now.

  The rest of the way to Orange County the phone was silent, but that gave me time to try to work through what was going on. The Holts were into something bad—so bad it got them killed and their house tossed. And whatever it was, Erica probably knew about it, and that’s why she fled. I even sort of understood why they wanted to get rid of me. If they knew I had been inside the Holt house and had found Connie’s body in Erica’s house, they might think I know more than I really do and/or had found something incriminating. And what about poor Dev? Was he also a victim of Mother’s team, or was his being found unconscious just a coincidence?

  I was worried about Dev. In the years I’ve known him, he’s always been strong as a bull. The idea of him lying in the hospital made me sick to my stomach, but I pushed it aside to think about Lily. I couldn’t help Dev, but I might be able to figure out why Lily was such a threat. The child couldn’t blow her own nose or eat with her mouth closed. She could barely speak to be understood. Had she seen something she shouldn’t have, and the bad guys were afraid her memory might be triggered at a later date?

  And why had they suddenly pulled the contract for Lily’s death off the table and said they would take care of it themselves? If they were watching carefully, they must have known she was with me. So why tell Mother to kill me and not Lily? I was so lost in this dilemma, I almost didn’t notice the car in front of me stop suddenly. Slamming on the brakes, my torso shot forward, only to be jerked back in place by my seat belt. The sharp jolt also loosened my brain. According to Mother, she had received a contract to take out both me and Lily. Then on Sunday afternoon it was revised to just me. In that short time period, what had happened to change their mind? The only thing I could think of was that Lily was no longer in my custody. She’d gone to stay with the Washingtons. Whoever was putting out the contracts must have known that.

  As traffic started up again, I thought about who would have known Lily was with someone else. Mark Baker, for starters. Alyce and Gary. The cops. Racel knew Lily was elsewhere on Friday during the day. Even Carl and Steele knew that I’d handed her over to Zee. I couldn’t imagine any of these people having motives against a three-year-old.

  When I was almost to the mall, I pulled over to the curb and parked. No Parking signs were posted all along the street, but I didn’t care. From where I was, I could see the sprawling complex with its acres of parking and stores and restaurants paying homage to conspicuous consumption. Somewhere within the walls of that retail city, my best friend and a helpless little girl could be riding painted wooden horses and not realize their lives were in danger. Or they could have been found and spirited away by now.

  My desires were answered when my cell phone rang. The display said it was Seth. I didn’t bother saying hello. “Are they okay?”

  “Yes, Odelia, they’re fine. The police contacted mall security, who found them riding the carousel, just as you suspected. They were escorted to the mall office until the police could get there and take custody of them. I got there just after they were taken to the office.”

  “And now?”

  “We just arrived at the Newport Beach Police Station. They’re trying to figure out what to do with them to keep them safe until this all blows over.”

  I started weeping with relief.

  “Thank you, Odelia,” Seth continued. “Your fast thinking might have saved their lives.”

  “Don’t thank me, thank Elaine Powers.”

  “Who is this Elaine Powers? The police asked us if we knew her.”

  “You don’t. And, trust me, you don’t want to know her.”

  As soon as I hung up from Seth, I called Greg. It went straight to voice mail, telling me he was on the phone. He was probably trying to find out more about Dev. I left him a voice mail, letting him know Zee and Lily were safe and that I was heading to the police station to see them and to answer more questions. I told him not to worry, that I’d call later.

  I couldn’t wait to throw my arms around both Zee and L
ily, and hopefully find out what I could about Dev. I had just turned the key in the car’s ignition when my cell phone sounded another familiar tone. It was Clark.

  “Hey, bro.” With Lily and Zee safe, my voice had definitely turned a bit more upbeat.

  Clark’s tone didn’t match mine. “We got the prints back.” His voice was gruff and short.

  “And?”

  “You sitting down?”

  “Yeah, I’m in the car.”

  “Pull over and park.”

  I was getting worried by the direction of the conversation. “I’m already parked.” I turned off the engine.

  “We picked up prints from the deodorant. They belong to Carl Yates.”

  “That’s impossible! What would his prints be doing on toiletries at Erica’s house?” Clark waited in silence while the answer sunk into my skull on its own.

  “No. No. No. It can’t be,” I insisted. The idea that Carl was cheating on his lovely wife with bitchy Erica made me want to gouge my eyes out—or Carl’s.

  “But,” I said into the phone as I tried to make sense of the information, “if he were sleeping with Erica, why would he have me looking into a possible affair with Mark Baker?”

  “Jealousy, sis. Maybe he suspected something. Just because Carl was having a fling with her doesn’t mean she wasn’t also doing her paralegal.”

  Oh, gawd! Now I wanted to gouge my brain out along with my eyes.

  “I was used.” Anger bubbled up like oil heating in a skillet. Any moment smoke would come out of my ears.

  “Probably. But there’s more.”

  “Don’t tell me you found Steele’s prints, too. I couldn’t take that.”

  “Nope, but we did find something interesting when we ran the prints on that coffee mug from Baker.”

  He paused like an awards presenter building anticipation before revealing the winner. I hate that on the Oscars and the Emmys and didn’t appreciate it now. I growled into the phone.

  “Keep your blouse on,” Clark said. “This is serious stuff.” He paused again, and I about lost my mind.

  “The prints don’t belong to any Mark Baker.”

  I dropped my annoyance like a hot potato and paid closer attention. “Who do they belong to, then?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “But I saw him use that mug myself. Could it be he got this far in his life without being printed?”

  “Whoever he is, he’s been printed. But his name isn’t Mark Baker. Our print guy says the prints are in the system, but the identity is classified.”

  What? My mind imploded with the unexpected information. “Since when does a paralegal need a false identity?”

  “Odelia,” Clark began, speaking in a measured voice, “whoever this guy is, I’ll bet he doesn’t have a long background in your line of work. He could be a former government employee who needed a new identity for security reasons. Or he could be in witness protection. He might even be undercover—deep undercover.”

  “Undercover? At Woobie?” I shoved my surprise aside to think. “I do know that he wasn’t with Hamlin-Hawke long before the merger. Maybe a year or so at the most.”

  “Maybe he was undercover at Hamlin-Hawke and got caught up in the merger before his assignment was complete.”

  “But an undercover like this wouldn’t be local, would it? It would have to be federal.”

  My brother went silent. He was either digging through his considerable past experience as a cop or had some info he wasn’t sure he wanted to share.

  “Odelia, whatever this is, I’m pretty sure it’s federal. I’m guessing he’s either undercover for some federal agency, probably the FBI, or he’s in witness protection. Either way, this situation could put him in danger if he’s discovered.”

  “But if he’s an undercover fed, why was he so nasty to me? He wanted me to lose my job!”

  “I have no idea, unless it was to keep his cover intact. If he’s in WITSEC, it could be he’s just an offensive guy.” He went silent for a moment. “And here’s something else to keep in mind, sis. There are basically two kinds of WITSEC witnesses—regular folks who were unfortunate enough to see something they shouldn’t have and criminals who turned snitch on bigger criminals. If this guy is under federal protection, let’s hope he’s the former and not the latter.”

  “Geez, Louise!” I ran a hand through my hair, which had dried on its own into a flat, stringy mess.

  “I’m coming out there.”

  “No, Clark, I’m fine,” I assured him. “The police are on this. They have Lily in custody for her protection, and I’m on my way to the police station right now.”

  “Why would she need protection? I thought Zee had her.”

  Oh, crap. Clark didn’t know about the contracts put out on me and Lily, and I didn’t want him to know. If he did, he’d fly here from Arizona sporting a big red cape, with Boy Wonder Willie by his side. Or maybe it would be the other way around.

  “Oh, by the way,” I said, trying to break Clark’s focus, “Dev is in the hospital. We don’t know why, just that he was found unconscious at his house.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear that. He’s a good man. Was it job related or illness?”

  “Don’t know yet. Greg’s trying to find out. I’m hoping I can learn something more from his partner.”

  “Now, getting back to the question you don’t want to answer: what’s up with Lily and police protection?”

  I tapped my foot, wondering how much I could say without saying too much. Clark was far from a dummy and, like most career cops, could read between the lines as if it were in a large font. “We have reason to believe she’s in danger, so the police took her into custody for the time being. Zee’s with her, and I’m heading there now.”

  “Danger from the creeps who killed her parents?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do they know yet who killed her folks?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I gotta run, Clark. Wouldn’t want a ticket for talking on the cell while driving.”

  “You told me you were parked.” Thick pause. “Dammit, Odelia, what are you not telling me? Or do I have to call Greg to find out?”

  “Greg doesn’t know!”

  Oh, gawd. In the heat of the moment I had slipped, giving Clark more to chew on. Why couldn’t my brother be a pharmacist?

  “Know what? And don’t you dare hang up on me, Odelia, because I’ll think the worst.”

  “It couldn’t be much worse, Clark.” I hung my head, accepting defeat. “The Holts were killed by a contract killer, and there was a contract also put out on Lily.”

  “What?” he yelled. “A hit put out on a three-year-old? That’s despicable, even for a professional assassin.”

  “The contract killer turned down the job on Lily.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them.

  “And how do you know that?”

  “She told me.” I said the words and ended the call. Let him chew on that for a while. I was tired of being grilled, although I worried he would immediately call Greg. I wanted to tell my husband myself after everything had calmed down. And no doubt Clark would discuss it with Willie, and Willie would figure out it was Mother who’d received the job order. I was only glad I had stopped talking before I mentioned the hit put out on me.

  twenty-five

  “I thought you were out today?” Joyce asked as she scanned my stringy hair and casual attire.

  “I am, but I forgot something.” I stopped in front of Woobie’s reception desk and lowered my voice. “Don’t tell anyone I’m here.

  I just want to get in and out.”

  She nodded her understanding as she answered a call.

  It was just after one thirty. In most law firms, staff and attorneys take lunch anytime between noon and two o’clock. Attorney, department, and committee meetings are often held during the lunch hour, and staff members stagger their lunch times depending on workload and daily deman
ds. By two the place would be back in full swing. Unless he was tied up in a lunch meeting, Carl Yates preferred to take his lunch around twelve thirty, and he usually went out to a nearby restaurant. I knew today was not one of his usual department lunches. If Carl was running true to form, he’d just be getting back from lunch or would be shortly.

  After what Clark had told me over the phone, there was no way I was not going to have a heart-to-heart chat with Carl Yates as soon as possible. From my illegal parking spot by the mall, I could see our office building. I didn’t think twice. I turned the car key and headed to the familiar parking structure on autopilot.

  I went down the hall towards my office but had no intention of making that my destination. I didn’t want Alyce to see me. She usually took earlier lunches and would be back at her desk by now. Instead, I cut through the file room. It was the heart of the office, along with the copy center, and a natural shortcut to the other side of the office suite. I slipped in one door and out another at the far end and found myself just steps from Carl’s office. Peeking around a file cabinet, I saw that Ani, Carl’s secretary, was not at her desk. I looked in the other direction and saw no one in the hallway. With a few strides, I was in Carl’s office. It was empty. I partially closed the door and took a seat across from his desk. Carl would be inside before he spotted me.

  I didn’t have to wait long. I heard footsteps just outside the office, then the door opened wide. Carl came in, his head down, his attention glued to the document in his hand.

  “Shut the door, Carl.”

  His head shot up at the sound of my voice, and he stood rooted to the ground like a deer caught in headlights on a dark country road. His shock only lasted a second, but it was gratifying. I had trusted this man for years, and in the end he’d played me for his own purposes. The gloves were off. Knowing I’d already planned to leave Woobie was going to make this a lot easier.

  “Come in, and please shut the door,” I repeated. “I have information for your ears only.”

  Carl shut the door and took his seat behind the desk. “I’m surprised to see you today, Odelia. I’d heard you were going to be out for a few days.”

 

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