“Thank you for this,” Brenda said. “It’s going to be the perfect season opener. The network is just going to love you.”
“When will it air?”
“I think we’re back at the end of September. I’m in the Manhattan studio starting at the end of August churning out the rest of the episodes. This first one will be a full hour, but the rest are just 22-minutes. A half hour with commercials.”
“Oh, I know how it works,” the singer said. “I’ve done my share of television. I did a pilot several years ago. It didn’t go anywhere.”
“What was it about?”
“Oh, Brenda, it was so cliché,” Carissa said between bites of ravioli. “It was all on the heels of Reba McEntire’s success with her sitcom, so every producer in Hollywood was working on vehicles for singers to crossover to episodic television. I think if Netflix had been around back then we could have done something edgier, but this was for the networks and it was just too fluffy and mainstream. My character was a one-time superstar singer—big stretch—whose accountant absconded with all her money. I mean, how many times has that been done? It was a three-camera shoot in front of a live studio audience and it had the wise-cracking mother, the smart aleck daughter, the dorky ex-husband, the wacky next door neighbor, the whole shebang. It wasn’t original and it certainly wasn’t good. And I was terrible in it. When we screened it for the suits, I cringed through the whole thing. A horrible, nasty affair. Every network turned it down and I hope the tape is rotting in some warehouse somewhere never to see the light of day.”
“I’m sorry,” Brenda said. “I could see you in one of those one-camera things. Maybe a drama about a superstar singer whose accountant absconds with all her money and she goes all badass to track him down.”
“I like that. Dark and kickass. I could play that. In heels!”
“And I’ll be your wisecracking next door neighbor.”
They roared with laughter just as Skyler entered the kitchen. “I guess it went well?”
“It did,” Brenda said. “Thank you so much for this. I really mean it. They’ll all be gone before you know it and we can kick back.”
“Not me,” Skyler said. “I need to go help Leonard with a project.”
Carissa squinted her eyes. “A project, huh? Does it involve his…”
“Don’t say it,” Skyler warned with a wave of her index finger. “I’m helping him with a case.”
“She’s talented, this one,” Brenda said. “A public relations maven and an amateur detective.”
The singer smiled. “It’s why I want her on my team. I want Leonard, too.”
Brenda and Skyler were stunned into silence.
“I can use a good lead for my security detail,” Carissa explained. “And Lenny would be perfect.”
“Well, he’s staying here in Wabanaki for the time being, Carissa,” Skyler said flatly. “And he’s mine.”
Brenda’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“I think so. Maybe.”
* * *
After some extensive research online and a few phone calls, Sheriff Little and his son determined that numbered Cayman Island accounts are next to impossible to trace. However, if Ricardo Solis did have a secret account offshore, he had to get the money there in the first place, and that would be more easily determined. They sent out feelers to their contact at the Miami-Dade Police Department and waited for a response.
Leonard was still at a loss for motive. “Even if we somehow determined that Solis sent money to the Caymans to ultimately pay Alameda, what does that tell us? That he loved Patty enough to ensure that Wabanaki saw an upsurge in tourists? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“What if Alameda was just a middleman for something more sinister?” the Sheriff wondered out loud. “What if he didn’t pocket the full $150,000? Maybe he was washing some of that money for a hit man.”
“I think we both watch too much television, Dad. That’s just so far-fetched. Solis didn’t seem to be concerned that Patty would tell anyone, not even his wife. He was very believable.”
The Sheriff was silent for a few long moments. “The wife.”
“Yeah. He had a wife. Has a wife.”
“Let’s check into her. Maybe she found out Patty was in Miami with her husband, but didn’t let Solis on to that fact.”
“Damn, Dad. That never dawned on me.”
“It’s understandable. We never had to be detectives until now,” the Sheriff said. “By the way, I decided to put the APB out on Tanner. Be on the lookout. If he shows up, or makes contact with Skyler, or you, I want you two to do your best to bring him in. He’s now wanted for Wanda’s murder and all the deputies know it.”
Leonard pressed his lips together and slowly shook his head. “Okay. But I still don’t believe he did it.”
“I hope you’re right, but it’s going to be up to a jury to decide, I’m afraid. The D.A. is officially pressing charges.”
“We have a D.A.?”
“Sorta of. It’s the mayor.”
“Lois Millhouse is pressing charges against her own grandson?”
“She has no choice,” Sheriff Little said. “It’s a sad time in Wabanaki, Leonard, despite all the new tourist money flowing in.”
“At least we can be a little excited about the new uniforms and the Ford Explorers.”
Maynard smiled. “I’m very excited about the new cars.”
* * *
Deputy Kristin Grant sat in her car and contemplated a resignation. She was assigned to direct traffic while large trucks removed debris from the Shanty site and it had been slow going. But it wasn’t the tedious task—which only required her to get out of the car for five minutes every hour or so—it was the threats she felt she was getting from the top. It was frightening to feel like she had to watch her back all the time. Nothing had come of the Sheriff witnessing her clandestine meeting with Porter Maddox in the park, but she felt eyes on her all the time and she was certain that someone had followed her home the evening before.
She nearly dropped her coffee cup when someone knocked on her driver’s side window. It was Gerald Gains. After a moment she rolled down the window.
“Officer Grant,” he said. “Can we talk for a moment?”
“Of course, Mr. Gains. What can I do for you?”
“I’m not sure how to put this lightly, so I’ll just say it out right. What you overheard the other night between the Sheriff, the Vice President, and me, it’s been quite troubling to me and my wife.”
She was silent. He seemed to be planning his next words very carefully.
“Kristin,” he continued, “We know what happened to Porter was a horrible accident and the fact that the department covered it up, well, it was wrong. But there are so many innocent lives to think about. And Daryl Farr is planning to run for governor next year. What I’m trying to say is…”
“You want to make sure that I keep my mouth closed.”
“That’s pretty much it. Yes.”
“Threatening an officer of the law is a serious criminal offense, Mr. Gains. I could arrest you right here in broad daylight and take you downtown.”
“You could,” he said as he leaned in closer, “but your boss would just let me go. And it would be your word against mine. I suggest you think about that for a while and let it sink in. This is a small town, little lady, and the grownups have been friends for decades. Lois Millhouse might think she runs the show around here, but it’s actually an old boys club. Granted, things are changing in sleepy old Wabanaki these days, what with all the tourists. And these fires. And two murders. But Daryl and I are still right here. Where we’ve always been. Doing what we’ve always done.”
Kristin watched as a large dump truck started easing out of the Shanty parking lot. “If you’ll excuse me, sir,” she said as she opened her door. Her hands were trembling. He backed up
so she could get out. “I have traffic to stop.”
“Think about what I said.”
“I will.”
She walked away as confidently as she could under the circumstances. And when she was a good distance away from Gains and her car, she pulled the small digital voice recorder out of her pocket and stopped the recording.
THIRTY
After texting to let him know she’d arrived, Laura Maddox climbed the stairs to her brother’s apartment and stood outside the door on the small landing. He opened the door and stared at her for a moment.
“Wouldn’t it have been quicker and easier to just knock?”
She considered it for a second. “I guess so. I never thought about that.”
He sighed and stepped to the side to let her in. He’d been straightened up and cleaning for hours—mostly in his frustration after the embarrassment in his landlord’s kitchen that morning—so the place was immaculate. Staying busy kept him from drinking, or worse.
“This place is amazing!” his sister squealed. “If I had any idea you were over here living in the lap of luxury, I would have come over sooner. A far cry from the trailer park, buddy boy. What are you paying for this?”
“Next to nothing,” Porter said, dropping deep into the couch. “She never even bothered to cash the last three checks I gave her. Mayor Millhouse likes me around. I guess she feels safer. And she certainly doesn’t need the rent money.”
“Meanwhile, I’m working my ass off. Nice.” She settled into a wingback chair and inspected the room. “Is that a Picasso over the fireplace?”
“I think it’s a print,” he said. “It can’t be the real thing.”
“Jesus, Joseph, and Mary. I think you should move away so that I can live here. How exactly am I going to go back to my dingy little place now?”
“What do you want, anyway?” Porter asked, tiring of the conversation.
“Well, fuck you, too, dickwad.”
“Again, Miss Elementary School Teacher,” he said, “why do you talk like that? It’s unbecoming.”
“I need a favor.”
“How come, all of a sudden, everyone wants favors from me?”
She sat forward in the chair. “Brother, dear. Since you burned down the Shanty, essentially putting me out of my very lucrative summer job, I’ve come to ask for a loan. I need some cash to float me until school starts. I can’t stomach looking for another job and no one is going to hire me for five weeks anyway.”
Porter was stunned. “Burned down the Shanty?”
“Um, yeah. I’m assuming that’s why you left when you did. Restaurants just don’t burn down on their own. I’d never say anything to anyone, of course.”
He didn’t know what to say. So he said nothing.
“What about that loan?” she asked. “Actually, why don’t we make it a gift. I know you can afford it. Obviously.” She put her arms up and gestured around the living room.
“How much do you want?”
“$3,700.”
“That’s a random figure. Shall we make it an even four grand?”
“Perfect.” She got up and started towards the door. “I’ll text you my account number since I assume you don’t have that much cash lying around. This is great because I won’t have to pay taxes on a gift.” She took a moment to take another look around the impressive space. And then she was gone.
He didn’t realize it until Laura spelled it out in plain English, but he guessed he really was the cause of the fire and he didn’t even plan it that way. So he decided to celebrate.
Porter fired up his laptop, wired the money to the account number his sister texted to him a few minutes later, then went to the kitchenette and poured himself a neat Jack Daniels, grabbed his cigarettes, and went to the bathroom. He turned on the exhaust fan and chain smoked.
* * *
Carissa was unwinding on the screened porch with a glass of wine and her iPad. The dogs were snuggled up together on the floor at her feet. And as she looked out at the bay at the last sunlight of the day creating a watercolor painting of rich oranges, pinks, whites, and blues in the sky above the water, she decided she’d found heaven. A far cry from the lights and mayhem of Las Vegas and her lonely life there, despite the scores of people surrounding her on a daily basis. She was thrilled to be spending time with unpretentious new friends who didn’t want anything from her.
Brenda breezed out onto the porch and took her usual place on the loveseat facing the couch the singer was curled up on. They were both wearing hoodies and sweatpants.
“We look like twins,” Carissa said.
Brenda erupted in laughter. “Hardly! I’ve never been on the cover of Vanity Fair. Never exactly strutted down the catwalks in Paris, either”
“I only did that once, and it was a nightmare. Real models are so incredibly full of shit. So disgustingly self-important. You’re a fucking Barbie doll who gets paid to wear a pretty dress and walk and pose. Such hard work. I once listened to a gaggle of those chicks talking about how hard it was to learn to walk. Walk! Never again.”
Brenda decided to change the subject. “See why Skyler and I love it here?” She dramatically gestured, like a Price is Right model showing off a new car. “Quite a place to grow up.”
“I’m seriously jealous. I grew up just outside of Denver. We could see the mountains, but we also could smell the dog food factory a mile away. I remember watching Dynasty when I was growing up; you know it supposedly took place there. All the glamour and furs and private jets and mansions. That wasn’t the Denver I knew. I don’t think it exists.”
“Well, it was a TV show,” Brenda said. “I lived for Alexis Carrington quotes, though. I think I wanted to be her.”
“Who didn’t?! Joan Collins is so sweet. She came to see one of my shows once. She looked exactly the same.”
Skyler appeared with two glasses of wine, handed one each to the girls, then popped back into the kitchen to get her own. When she settled on to the couch next to Carissa, one of the dogs passed gas.
“Perfect. Everything is perfect now,” she deadpanned.
Carissa was amused. “Dogs fart. Everyone farts, really.”
“That’s so deep,” Brenda said. “So, what are we going to do for dinner?”
“Oh my lordy, Brenda,” the singer said. “I couldn’t eat another bite. Let’s drink our dinner tonight.”
“I’m all for that,” Skyler said as she took a sip of the buttery chardonnay. “What is this? It’s amazing.”
Brenda crinkled her brow. “I’m not sure, because I had a mixed case brought up from New York with the crew. It might be the Talastas Racer from Virginia. I usually despise chard, and Virginia wines can be iffy, but this one is certainly an exception.”
“I didn’t know that Virginia had wineries,” Carissa said.
“Every single state in the union has a winery,” Brenda said. “Even Alaska, if you can believe that. American wines have come a long way. I feature a revolving U.S. collection at the restaurants. People always get a kick out of trying something from their home state that they didn’t even know was a thing.”
Carissa swirled her glass and took another sip. “You learn something new every day. Even Nevada? A winery?”
“Yup,” Brenda said. “Churchills Vineyards in the high desert is a good one. I think it’s in Fallon, Nevada. Magical place. But, then, most wineries are. If I had the gumption and extra 20 million, I might like to operate a winery.”
“That’d be a great addition to the Brenda Braxton brand to pair with the television shows, restaurants, and your new line at QVC!” Carissa was working that angle hard.
“We’ll see.”
As the girls turned the conversation towards the trials and tribulations of owning multiple homes—something they all shared in common, and something that virtually no one else was going to feel sorry fo
r them over—there was a great crashing sound that came from somewhere inside the house.
“What was that?!” Brenda asked.
Skyler put down her glass and went to investigate. There was no one left in the house since the crew had left a few hours earlier, so she couldn’t imagine what it could have been. When she made her way down the center hallway into the foyer, she came face to face with Tanner Millhouse. He looked different somehow. Sad. Broken.
A large painting that had been hanging above the credenza, was on the floor, it’s frame broken in several places.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I’m a little tipsy.”
She gave him a big hug and didn’t want to let go. He was trembling slightly. “Don’t worry about that. It can be fixed.” She held on to his upper arms and pushed him gently away, but didn’t let go. “Can you be fixed? What’s going on?”
He seemed unable to speak. He pulled away from her grip and leaned against the furniture for support. His face crunched up, then relaxed. “I’ve been drinking a little.”
“I can see that,” she said. “There’s an APB out for you. Sheriff Little wants you arrested and I’m supposed to call them when I see you. I don’t want to do that, but I do want to help you. You have to tell me what’s going on.”
Tanner sighed deeply and stood upright. “I shouldn’t have come back. I was half way to Canada but then I realized that I have no fucking money and no way to get any fucking money so I’m not sure how I’d even start over in a foreign country.”
“Tanner, you would have been stopped at the border and arrested. You wouldn’t have made it to Canada. And, anyway, they cooperate with the U.S. You wouldn’t be able to survive up there.”
“I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly,” he said. “And Mexico is too damned far away. My shitty car would never make it.”
“This makes me very sad. But you have to face the music, honey. You can’t run away.”
“I killed Wanda.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. Sweat formed on her forehead. She wanted to throw up.
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