“Yes, that was my intention, but I forgot something on Friday, so I needed to swing by.” Without hesitation, I went straight into the topic on my mind and hopefully his. “I’m sure the police have already questioned you about what happened at Erica’s house.”
He nodded, but his eyes studied me, reading me and my body language like he would a hostile witness on the stand. “Yes, how tragic about her sister. Of course, I told them there’s no way you would have done such a heinous thing.”
“That’s true, and I didn’t. But did you also tell them I was snooping around with your blessing and encouragement?”
“Seems the police already knew that, so you must have been the one to tell them.” He paused. “I wish you hadn’t. It puts me in a very precarious situation here at the firm.” He picked up a pen and made a pretense of jotting down a note.
“Funny thing about that,” I said, making myself comfortable.
Carl was trying to maintain his position of authority over me, but it wasn’t working. He was no longer my boss, even if he didn’t know it yet. Nor was I about to grovel in the hopes of obtaining good references. We were on equal footing, and it was liberating.
“Did you explain, like I did,” I continued, “that you were only concerned with helping me keep my job?”
“Of course I did, Odelia.” He leaned back in his expensive ergonomic chair with the ease of a man used to calling the shots. “I told the police and the other partners how Erica saddled you with her niece and threatened your job.” His lips parted with a paternal smile. “And I told them how you … I mean we … wondered if there was some inappropriate monkey business going on.”
“And what about Mark Baker? Do you know if the police and the other partners questioned him about it yet?”
Carl shook his head. “I have no idea. I know the police want to question Mark, but they can’t seem to locate him. He didn’t call in sick this morning but was simply a no-show.” He shrugged. “I hate to say this, but maybe he had a hand in killing Erica’s sister. Maybe he and Erica’s fling went sour, and Connie got in the way.”
Mark had called me Sunday from the office, then today, the day the police want to talk to him, he goes missing. Something told me we might never see him again. My money was riding on him being in witness protection, and hopefully the common citizen type.
Carl tapped the pen on the arm of his chair. I remained still in mine, even though I wanted to leap across the desk at the man who had once attended my wedding.
“I think it’s a good idea that you’re taking a few days off, Odelia. Let this blow over. I’ll talk to the partners. They’ll see that you always were the best choice for the corporate paralegal job.”
“And what about you and Erica?”
The pen stopped tap-tap-tapping. “Excuse me?”
“When the police questioned you, did you tell them that saving my job was just a cover for you using me to find out if Erica was double-timing you with Mark?”
“That’s preposterous.”
“Really? Then how did your fingerprints get on intimate items in her home?” I wanted him to think his prints were found in several places.
Carl leaned forward. “Are you threatening me with bullshit, Odelia, after all the years we’ve worked together?”
“It’s not bullshit. There were prints, and they were identified. Once the police get them, it’s just a matter of time before your name hits the suspects list.”
“I did not kill Connie Holt. I’ve never even met her.”
“What about Erica? Don’t you think she’ll talk as soon as they start to question her about your relationship? They’ve located her, you know. She was running for her life.”
Carl blanched. “Certainly you don’t think Erica was afraid of me?”
“No, I don’t, Carl. She was running because of something her sister was involved with and she probably knew about.”
“Odelia, please. This will destroy my marriage.”
His comment made me want to barf. Why is it cheating spouses never think about the destruction of their marriage before they get between the sheets with someone else? It only seems to occur to them when they’re caught, and then it’s someone else’s fault when they end up in divorce.
“You should have thought about that before you boinked Erica, not now.”
Carl hit a button on his phone. Through the speaker I could hear Ani, now back at her desk, answer. “Ani,” Carl said into the phone, “please hold all my calls. I’m in a meeting and not to be disturbed for any reason.”
At that moment my brain cracked open and light flooded through its crevices, bringing partial illumination, like a shade half raised. “If you and Erica were involved, then she was trying to convince you to vote in favor of keeping Mark over me. It never even occurred to you that she might be sleeping with Mark until I suggested it, did it? That’s why you changed course and sent me out to dig up whatever dirt I could about them. This was never about saving my job but about satisfying your own sick curiosity.”
“That’s not true, Odelia. Erica never turned me against you, even though she tried. In spite of our personal relationship, we never agreed on the paralegal situation.” He ran the hand without the pen over his chin, squeezing his lips forward between his fingers. “But, yes, I saw an opportunity to look into your suspicions.”
I leaned forward, my chest almost on his desk. “You mean to have me look into them without you getting your hands dirty. If I got caught, you could just pass it off as me being my usual snooping self to save my job. The partners would buy that in a New York minute, no matter what I said to the contrary. Attorneys always stick together when it’s between one of their own and staff.”
“Odelia, I’m sorry.” Carl dropped the pen on the desk. “I’ll fix this, I promise, but we have to come up with a story about those prints.”
“What’s this we business?”
I really didn’t think Carl had anything to do with Connie’s death or with the contracts to kill, but if he and Erica were involved intimately, there might have been some useful pillow talk.
“Someone’s trying to kill me, Carl. I think that takes precedence over your infidelity. You know anything about that?”
His eyes widened. He took off his reading glasses and stared at me even harder than before. “What?”
“Someone put out a contract to kill both me and Lily Holt. And there’s a hit out on Erica right now, too, probably by the same people who paid to have Connie and her husband whacked. What do you know about that?”
He waved his hands over the desk as if calling a base runner safe. “Absolutely nothing! I can assure you.”
“What do you know about Lily Holt, besides her being Erica’s niece?”
He gave my question serious thought before answering. “I know the child’s adopted.”
“I heard Erica wasn’t too keen about the adoption. Why was that?”
“Erica mentioned it a few times, usually after we’d had a few drinks. She often said the adoption was going to bite her sister in the ass one day.”
“That’s an odd thing to say, don’t you think?”
“Very odd. I always thought it was because Erica didn’t like kids in general or Lily specifically. She was like that, you know. Once she got it in her head she liked or didn’t like someone, she wouldn’t change her mind. That’s what I think happened between you two. For some reason you rubbed her the wrong way, and she wanted you gone. And she usually got what she wanted.”
“Like you?”
His head drooped. “I’m not proud of this, Odelia.”
“Carl, my life’s been threatened. The life of a small child has been threatened. Two people are dead. If you expect me to give you pat-pat-there-there sympathy, you’re seriously mistaken. What else can you remember?”
“Fair enough.” He closed his eyes tight. When he opened them, he said, “To be honest, I always thought from the way Erica talked about it that the adoption was illegal.”
Mother had hinted at something like that, making me wonder exactly who was Lily Holt, and why was she important enough to kill over? And how did the Holts get her in the first place?
twenty-six
After telling Carl not to talk to anyone about what we had discussed, I started down the hallway towards the front entrance at a speed-walking pace. As I moved, I dug around in my purse for my cell phone. About the time I reached the elevators, I realized I’d forgotten it in the car.
I needed to call Fehring as soon as possible, so I scooted back through the reception area and this time really did head for my office. Alyce was surprised to see me.
“I forgot something on Friday,” I said before she could ask the obvious.
Once in my office, I closed the door and picked up the phone. Damn! Without my cell phone’s contact list and list of recent calls, I was at a loss for numbers. So I called Zee’s cell, one of the few numbers I had memorized, and hoped she would answer. She did.
“Zee, where are you?”
“We’re still at the police station, bored out of our minds, but at least we’re safe. They might let us go home soon, but not without police protection. Would you believe the mall cops dragged me and Lily off the carousel in the middle of a ride?”
“Zee, listen to me. Is Detective Fehring around?”
“Yes, she was just here a minute ago, checking on us.”
“Get her on the phone right now. It’s important. I’ll hold.”
I aged five years waiting for Fehring.
“Odelia,” came the snide voice through Zee’s phone. “You’re supposed to be here at the station. Do you need a police escort to remind you?”
“Listen, Detective Fehring, I think I just found out something important about Lily.”
“I’m all ears.”
I could tell by her tone that her attitude was at war with her listening skills, but I pushed it aside for Lily’s sake.
“I think Lily was adopted illegally. Maybe that’s why people are after her.”
“How do you know this?” The snotty tone was replaced by all business.
“Mother—I mean Elaine Powers—said something about it to me earlier today, and just now Carl Yates told me he thought the same, based on things Erica Mayfield said to him. And, by the way, Carl Yates was having an affair with Erica Mayfield.”
“And just how do you know that?” She was listening, but I could tell her patience was strained.
“He confessed it to me. I’m at my law firm right now.”
“Very interesting. Mr. Yates left out that tidbit when we spoke to him.”
“Can you find out about Lily’s background through fingerprints and stuff like that?”
“We’ll certainly try. Any idea how long the Holts had her?”
I racked my brain until the Quinn sisters came to mind. “Yes, friends of Connie’s told me Lily was adopted about a year or so ago. Does that help?”
“It’s a good start. We’ll search missing kids reports filed during that time period. Good work, Odelia.”
I wondered if I should say anything to Fehring about Mark Baker. I was tempted to let sleeping dogs lie, considering what Clark had discovered, but I knew Fehring would have my hide if she found out I was withholding information. Besides, I had promised Willie and Clark I would go straight to the police if any information cropped up from those prints.
“There’s one more thing,” I told Fehring. “It’s about Mark Baker. Have you talked to him yet?”
“No, we haven’t been able to reach him. Is he at the office with you now?”
“No. He didn’t show up to work today, and I think I know why. I have reason to believe he’s either an undercover fed or maybe in witness protection. Either way, he’s not who he claims to be.”
“And how do you know that?” I was sure she was as tired of asking that question as I was of hearing it.
“I can’t tell you this minute.”
There was a long, deep gust of angry air on the other end of the phone.
“Look,” I said, hoping to calm Fehring down, “I promise I will tell you everything once I get to the station.” When she didn’t answer, I added, “I’ll bet when you went to Mark’s home address, you found a mailbox place, didn’t you?”
“All I can say, Ms. Grey, is that we have a lot of work to do, and you have a lot of explaining to do. A hell of a lot.”
“How’s Dev?” I wanted to know his condition, but I was also eager to get myself out of Fehring’s crosshairs.
“He had a heart attack. Now, get into the station—and that’s an order.”
I tried to get more info on Dev, but Fehring hung up.
Just as I was about to leave my office, my eye caught on Lily’s drawing pinned to my bulletin board. It seemed like years since I’d hung it there, not just a few days. Drama enough to last a lifetime had occurred since. At that time I was only concerned with wiping Lily’s nose, calling Erica on her crap, and saving my job. Now I was worried about saving Lily’s life and my own. But today my eyes were catching something more than the loss of a more innocent time. The picture was taken out of a coloring book. It was a large outline of a playful kitten and a ball of yarn. Lily had colored the animal, both inside and outside the lines, with various colors not usually found in fur, and she had given it a crude hat. I went back around the desk and leaned towards the picture to get a closer look. The cat was definitely wearing headgear—an uneven blob with points. It had been colored yellow and pink, but mostly yellow.
I picked up the phone again and dialed Zee. “Hey, Zee, is Detective Fehring still nearby?” A second later, Fehring was back on the line.
“You’d better not be calling to tell me you’ve been sidetracked on your way to the station, because I swear I’ll send a cruiser to pick you up, handcuffs and all.”
“No, I’m on my way,” I assured her. “But I think I have a lead on where to start with Lily. When you’re looking through missing kids reports, start with Wisconsin.”
“Wisconsin?”
“Yes.” I studied the drawing again. “It’s just a hunch, but if it pays off, it could save you a lot of time.”
“Sure, why not? Wisconsin it is.”
As I made my way out of my office, I gave the drawing one last look. Cheesehead Squirrel thanked Cheesehead Kitty.
twenty-seven
My stomach was growling, reminding me I hadn’t eaten anything since that cinnamon roll and coffee with Greg this morning. Opening a lower desk drawer, I pulled out a box of Thin Mints, newly purchased just a few weeks before from a Girl Scout troop stationed in front of the grocery store. I opened the carton and tore into one of the double packs. I polished off a handful of cookies, nearly swallowing them whole, and washed it all down with water from a bottle on my desk. Next to my computer monitor was an apple. It wasn’t a cheeseburger, but it was shiny and inviting just the same. After returning the cookies to the drawer, I picked up the apple and got ready to hit the road to the Newport Beach police station.
I was going to ask Alyce if she’d seen or heard from Mark Baker, but she wasn’t at her desk when I came out of my office. I jotted a few words on a neon lime sticky note saying I’d let her know when I would return to the office and stuck the note in the middle of her monitor to make sure she saw it.
After a quick stop by reception to let Joyce know I was heading out, I stepped into the foyer to wait for the elevator. Once in the elevator, I took a bite out of the apple. It tasted so fresh, especially after the cookies, I nearly swooned. By the time I reached my car on the fifth level of the parking structure, I was nearly done. After taking one last bite of the apple, I walked over to a trash container and deposited the core. It was one of those heavy concrete and gravel boxes that held a metal liner. My car was parked halfway down the end lane, with many empty stalls between me and it.
Each floor of our parking garage is level and flat, with several long, wide aisles. Parking stalls line both sides of the aisles and the outer ed
ge. The up and down ramps were at the far end, the two enclosed stairwells kitty-corner to each other. Two elevators were located midway on each floor. I liked parking on the fifth level. I usually parked on the outside end facing the next office building. Since most of the cars on this level were bunched near the elevators, and it wasn’t as crowded as the lower levels, there was less chance of my car being dinged or wedged in by other people’s bad parking. Usually my car was by itself, like today.
As I started for my car, I aimed my key fob at the vehicle to unlock it, but the lights didn’t flash, nor was there the familiar click of the door being unlocked. I stopped in my tracks, wondering if I had locked it when I’d arrived. I had been in such a rush to get into the office, I could have forgotten. Or maybe the battery in my key fob was weak, and I needed to get closer for it to work. Another more sinister idea was starting to seep into my thoughts just as I heard someone call my name with urgency.
“Odelia!”
I jumped and spun around to see Carl Yates trotting towards me from the elevator. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and his tie was askew.
“Did you remember something else?” I asked him as I dug around in my bag looking for something with which to wipe my hands. In surrender, I used the legs of my jeans.
Without warning, Carl grabbed me by my shoulders and shook me, not hard but enough to gently rattle my teeth. “Odelia, in my office you said something about the police—that once they had my prints I’d make the suspects list. Does that mean the police don’t have my prints yet?”
Leave it to a master litigator to catch all the nuances in a conversation. Had Carl not been so distraught, he would have picked up on that on the spot, not twenty minutes later. The question was, should I tell him the truth? No, they didn’t have the prints, but they do know about the affair. Instead, I played possum and said nothing. Carl’s tall. I’m not. I tipped my head back and latched my eyes onto his. They were wild and desperate and not at all the eyes of the confident man I’d known for so many years. I became alarmed.
He shook me again, this time with more vigor. “Tell me, damn you!”
In all the years I’ve known and worked with Carl Yates, he’s put an arm around me with affection. He’s kissed my cheek at holidays and at my wedding. He’s patted me on the shoulder for a job well done and shaken my hand in congratulations. But never has he touched me or spoken to me with violent intent. I struggled out of his grasp.
Hide and Snoop (The Odelia Grey Mysteries) Page 21