by Alan Chaput
She stood on trembling knees, retrieved the passport and determinedly stumbled back to the living room.
“Do you have your gun?” Trey asked.
She nodded.
He held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
“Someone just killed Alisa.”
“No guns allowed where you’re going.”
“What?”
“Just give me your gun.”
She handed it over and he put it in the hall table drawer.
The night air was brisk as they left the house and made their way to Chief Patrick’s windowless, black police van. The van took off once the three had settled.
“What about Hayley?”
“I called her on the drive here. She should be on her way to the Atlanta airport.”
“Meredith?”
“She can’t be moved.” Trey let out a sigh. “We’ve stepped up her security.”
“And Judy?” Patricia asked.
“She and Beau are leaving with us,” Trey replied, his voice strangely coarse.
“Beau?”
“She wouldn’t leave unless he went too.”
They didn’t go directly to Judy’s home. Rather, they cut through alleys and circled back on themselves. Though Patricia didn’t like the dark, congested alleys, she didn’t say anything about them.
“Something about this has been bothering me, Trey.”
“What’s that?”
“With all the people looking into Mama’s murder, the police, the Coalition, the church, even Willie Maye, why do you suppose the only people the killer seems to be after is my team?”
Trey shrugged. “Maybe Meredith got too close. And the killer doesn’t know what she told y’all. You know, like he’s trying to cover his tracks.”
“But everyone knows where the money is now. So if that’s a tipoff, why wouldn’t the killer go after the other investigators?”
“Perhaps he doesn’t know their identities.”
“Yeah. Maybe that’s it.”
As she gnawed her lip, she glanced at Trey and envied his ability to remain calm and decisive at times like this.
“So how did the killer get our identities?”
“Meredith was talking to you when she was shot,” Trey said. “Her assailant could have looked at her phone to get your phone number. Perhaps even your name.” He nodded toward the curb. “We’re here.”
The van slowed and pulled up beside Judy’s home. The house was dark. Judy and Beau emerged from the shadows and silently entered the van. Judy, her hair a mess and her face red, looked like crap, in strong contrast to Beau who, dressed casually in black, seemed groomed for a night on the town.
Patricia reached out and touched Judy’s arm. “Are you okay?”
Her face scrunched. “Not really.”
Judy opened her purse, found a pillbox, and lifted the jeweled lid. She removed one of the little white pills that crammed the box and popped the medication in her mouth. Judy leaned forward and offered the pills to Patricia.
Patricia shot Judy a look. She hated chemical crutches. “No, thank you.”
“Are you sure?”
Patricia looked away, shaking her head. “I’m sure.”
Of all times, this was a time when it was absolutely important to stay mentally alert and figure things out. She wished Judy would do the same even though their grief was so raw. First Mama, then Meredith and now Alisa. The answers to these crimes felt like they were just beyond Patricia’s grasp, but she couldn’t get there.
“Mr. Falcon,” came a male voice over the van’s intercom. “Your party has been approved for military transport.”
“Military transport?” she asked Trey.
“Harder to track.”
She liked that idea, felt comforted, but wondered how Trey had arranged for transport so quickly. She nuzzled him.
Trey massaged her neck, then the top of her shoulders.
The van slowed, then stopped. Ahead lay a long row of motionless cars.
“Go around them,” Chief Patrick told the driver.
Emergency lights flashing, the van pulled onto the wide sidewalk, inched forward to an alley and turned into the darkness.
Patricia shuddered when she felt Trey tense.
Judy popped another happy pill.
“Is this safe?” Beau asked Chief Patrick.
“We do it all the time.”
The driver seemed to know what he was doing, moving confidently past kitchen staff idling outside open doors and around rusted dumpsters.
“Trey, are we going overseas?” she asked, breaking the silence that saturated the van as it traversed the alley.
He nodded.
“Where?”
“Paris.”
“Why Paris?”
“There’s a Joint Operations safe house there y’all can use. If you and Hayley don’t want to stay in—”
“I love Paris,” Judy said. “We’ll have a great time there, Patricia. Beau and I know some absolutely wonderful clubs with fabulous food and music. Trust me. We’ll make sure you two have a grand time.”
Patricia, guessing Judy’s happy pills were kicking in, frowned. They were on the run and Judy was planning a vacation. How weird. “I just can’t. It doesn’t seem appropriate. Please, don’t push me.”
Judy nodded like a bobblehead doll. Beau seemed to have withdrawn into a world of his own.
“Is there somewhere else you’d rather go?” Trey asked.
Patricia shook her head, and it was settled. Paris was their destination.
Patricia’s mind whirled as the van edged out of the alley into a street bright with colorful neon and an energetic club crowd. The only traffic jam was on the sidewalk as fashionable young adults surged between the clubs in search of who-knew-what. Paris with Hayley was undeniably much more inviting.
“How’s the case coming for your team?” Patricia asked.
Trey turned to her. In the dim interior light he looked tired but commanding. “We made a breakthrough just a couple of hours ago. I think I know who shot Meredith.”
Judy straightened. “How’d you find that?”
“My sources.”
Instinct told Patricia there was more. “What do you mean ‘sources’?”
“Uh ... a priest.”
“A priest told you who shot Meredith?” Judy asked.
He nodded, then gave Patricia a long, silent, questioning look. “You and your friends,” he motioned at Judy, “have clearly become the focus of the killer’s game. This lead should speed things up, but you’re both going to have to disappear until we put the killer behind bars.”
She chewed her lower lip.
He took her hand and held it tightly. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
She shrugged. “I’m sure you know more than me. We got a license number on that truck and I gave it to Simon. And when I was at Judy’s someone threw a brick over the wall that said, ‘you’re next’.
Beau turned to Judy. “You didn’t tell me.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t want to alarm you.”
Patricia frowned again. She knew their relationship was bad, but thought maybe with the current crisis they would become closer.
Trey held out a cell phone. “This is a secure international phone. If you absolutely need to call me, use it. Otherwise, no calls, no letters, no email, nothing. Just secure video conferencing from inside the safe house.”
“You’re not coming to Paris?”
“We’re closing in on the killer and are all needed here. You’ll be okay. It’s a safe house.”
“I’d be more comfortable if you came.”
“You’ll be more comfortable when I put the killer away.”
She took the phone and placed it in her purse next to her passport. “So, who’s behind all this, Trey?”
“I don’t know.”
“I thought you identified who shot Meredith, surely—”
“Her assailant is dead. We have his name. H
erman Stockford. And we have an out-of-state address for him. It’s a big lead. We’re questioning his neighbors. One thing will lead to another. Believe me, we’re close to identifying the person behind all this. I’ll come to Paris for you as soon as this matter is wrapped up.”
“I have complete faith you’ll solve it soon.”
But, despite being overseas, she wasn’t going to stop looking for answers; she owed that to Alisa and Meredith and Mama.
Chapter 26
Paris
As soon as Patricia, Hayley, Judy and Beau got to the Paris safe house, Patricia arranged for a secure video conference with Trey to let him know they had arrived safely.
“Hello, Trey. We made it.” Just seeing his face come up on the screen in the safe house communication room filled her with joy.
“How was your flight?”
“Spartan, but I’m not complaining.”
He nodded. “Did the airport pickup go okay?”
“Very smooth. VIP treatment from French Customs on the plane and secure transport at plane-side.”
“How’s the safe house?”
She looked around the room, still awed by the extensive equipment. “Definitely not the Ritz, but it’s nice not to be worried about being in the killer’s crosshairs. Thank you, Trey, for arranging all this. How’s your investigation going?”
He shrugged. “No change since you left. Lots of dead ends, but that’s par for the course.”
“Did you get Meredith set up so we can video conference with her from here?”
“Yes. She says she’s looking forward to seeing your smiling faces.”
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s Meredith,” Trey said. “It would take more than a shot in the head to slow her down. How’s Hayley?”
Patricia took a sip of spring water. “I think the jet lag has gotten to her. She didn’t get much rest on the flight over, so she’s sleeping right now.”
“Judy and Beau?”
“Judy and her security detail went shopping. I don’t know about Beau. He said something about video conferencing with the Coalition later today.”
“Yeah. We have that set up for two your time.”
“I’m sure the six-hour time difference creates some scheduling issues for y’all.”
“We’ll work around that,” Trey said. “The biggest problem is that Beau doesn’t have his case files with him.”
“What about the cloud?”
“Beau’s old school. Doesn’t use the cloud. He’s got the basic information in his laptop, and we’ll feed him anything else he needs.”
“Have you determined if the poison that killed Alisa was the same as the poison that killed Herman?”
“It was.”
“The poison was relatively fast acting?”
“It is.”
“Alisa was poisoned in her home?”
“She died in her home.”
“Have you checked to see who had access to her home the day she died? Specifically, an hour or so before her death.”
“Her husband doesn’t think anyone was in the house the hour right before she died, other than him. He’d only been home a half hour or so when she collapsed.”
“Does he normally come home at that time?”
“No. He came home early.”
“What about the contents of Alisa’s stomach?”
“Why are you asking all these questions, Patsy?”
She let out a long breath. “I may be in hiding, but I’m still doing what I can to find Alisa’s murderer.”
Trey leaned closer to the camera. “I wish you’d stay out of this.”
“I can’t. I owe it to Alisa, Meredith, and Mama. Besides, the more minds working this case, the better. So, Alisa’s stomach. Had she recently eaten?”
“No.”
“Would the poison be stable in a beverage?”
“Possibly,” he said. “I’ll check. Good thinking, Patsy.”
“Thank you. Are you still focusing on Herman as the key lead?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you know about him?”
“All we have is his driver’s license and vehicle registration. He wasn’t carrying credit cards, and his cell was prepaid. No criminal record. No military service. No matches on his fingerprints or DNA. So far, we can’t find a link between him and your mom.”
“Any idea where he stayed in Savannah?”
“No.”
“Would you send me your file on him?”
“Patsy, I’d like you to leave this business to me.”
“I know, Trey. But I have to keep digging. Please humor me. The file, please.”
“Okay. What do you have in mind?”
“Nothing yet. But if I find something new, I’ll give it to Beau.”
“OK. I just sent the file to you.”
“Thank you, Trey. Talk to you tomorrow, if not before.”
Patricia returned to her room after the video conference and exchanged emails with Meredith. Then she took a short nap, showered, and spent the afternoon reviewing the file on Herman. She and Hayley met Judy and Beau for an early dinner. Though the restaurant was down the street from the safe house their respective security details were close by.
“Whoever killed Herman killed Alisa,” Patricia said to Judy. “Same poison. We need to find out who he spent time with in Savannah.”
“No help on credit cards or phone records,” Beau said.
Patricia nodded. “Trey told me. So, he used cash for everything. Where did he get the money from? Did he bring it to Savannah? Did he cash a check here? If she’s well enough, Meredith could help us track that down.”
“The killer might have hired him,” Judy said. “You know, paid him off with cash.”
“I still think we should have Meredith check her sources,” Patricia said. “We can discuss that when we video conference her tomorrow morning.”
Chapter 27
At eight the following morning, Patricia and Judy met in the safe house communications room to video conference with Meredith.
“Good morning, y’all,” Meredith said as her image appeared on the screen.
“How are you feeling?” Patricia asked.
“I have a little headache,” Meredith said with a slight smile. “How about y’all?”
“Still jet lagged,” Judy said.
“Meredith, did you get a name on that account where Mama’s money is?”
“Yes. Herman Stockford.”
“Was anyone else’s name on the account?” Judy asked.
“No.”
“We need to get everything we can on that account,” Patricia said. “Especially the bank’s internal security videos for the day the account was opened. They might show an accomplice or possibly Herman’s boss.”
“Will do.” The tapping of keys came from Meredith’s open microphone. “Okay.”
“Have you had a chance to review the Herman file?” Patricia asked.
Meredith nodded. “Yes.”
“Herman didn’t have any credit cards in his wallet, and Trey says there’s no record of any being issued to him. So we can assume Herman did everything in Savannah on a cash basis. I think our priority should be to determine where that cash came from.”
“He might have a checking account in the city on his driver’s license.” More key tapping sounded from Meredith’s end. “I’ll check on that.”
“Or someone in Savannah, perhaps the killer, was financing him,” Patricia said. “Could you see if he cashed any checks in Savannah?”
Meredith dipped her chin. “Sure.”
“I don’t think the killer would be that stupid,” Judy said.
“I’ll still check just to eliminate the possibility.”
Patricia glanced at her notes. “Another source of money could be a local job. If Herman had a job, they’d have to withhold taxes. We have his Social Security Number. Could you get access to his Georgia withholding?”
“Not officially,” Meredit
h said. “But I have friends in high places. If Herman worked in Georgia and paid state withholding, I can find out.”
“Wonderful.” Patricia smiled her appreciation for Meredith’s incredible resources. “Any more ideas, anyone?”
“Alisa was tracking down Sonny’s local contacts when she was killed,” Judy said. “It’s possible she was getting too close to finding Sonny, so he killed her. I think we should keep an open mind that Sonny may be the killer.”
Patricia turned to Judy. “Good thinking. Would you follow up on that?”
“Judy, if you need any help here in Savannah, let me know,” Meredith added.
Judy gave a thumbs-up. “Will do.”
“Okay, ladies, same time tomorrow.” Patricia waved to Meredith. “Take care, Meredith. Watch your back.”
“Y’all stay safe,” Meredith said, returning the wave.
* * *
“I want to do right, Mama,” Hayley said over the thrumming traffic noise on Avenue des Champs Elysees. She removed the linen napkin from the café table, placed it on her lap, and took a deep breath. “But I still don’t have my heart in school. I’d like to delay school and spend a year here in Europe.”
Patricia grimaced. “With that boy, Shawn?”
“No. He’s only going to be here for the summer. After he goes back to school, I’d like to tour Europe. Please don’t hate me.”
Patricia reached across the small wrought-iron table, smiled, and took Hayley’s hand. “Hate you? No. I love you more than anything. Go ahead. Take some time off. Gramps cavorted around Europe the summer before he entered Harvard Law School. He said it did him good. Once back, he settled down and graduated first in his class. You go ahead. See Europe, darlin’.”
“I’m truly sorry.”
“Nothin’ to be sorry about, child.” Patricia squeezed Hayley’s hand. “I’ve learned a whole lot about how precious life is lately. Follow your heart. The path won’t always be easy, don’t you know. But your heart won’t mislead you.”
Tires screeched.
Patricia looked up.
A black sedan hopped the curb and came straight at their—
Patricia bolted up and grabbed Hayley’s arm. Hayley’s brown eyes widened as Patricia yanked her to her feet.
The car plowed through the empty table in front of theirs, scattering chairs.