Leaning in he pressed his cheeks to hers, once, twice, then a third time. “Good night habibti, I will see you tomorrow,” he said as she slid in and seated herself.
“Good night handsome, see you tomorrow,” Shan said before shutting her door and starting her car.
She rolled down her window and asked, “Aren’t you going to get in your car?”
“Yes, but first I will see you headed safely to your home,” he said, then a pause and, “You know you don’t have too many more nights left to live in a home other than mine, yes?”
Shan could pretend she didn’t understand how serious Abdulla was, but she wasn’t that woman. He had made his intentions very clear since the beginning. He was letting her know, there was a clock running. She headed home under his watchful gaze, glad they had worked through their first disagreement and marveling at the fact she wasn’t nervous about that clock he just started.
It seemed to Shan, the longer she knew Abdulla, the more he impressed her.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Longview, Texas
Carmen was sitting at her desk, planning her calendar for the week. It had been a long and lazy weekend. After her escapade during the wee hours of Thursday she felt it would be wise to lay low.
The news reported the fire saying an unknown arsonist was being blamed. There was even some conjecture that it had been some gang initiation. The family had escaped, the father with some serious burns, but was being hailed as a hero for getting his family out and attempting to douse the blaze inside while his wife sprayed the exterior to keep it from spreading to other homes.
The notion of Jack and his new wife being hailed as heroes only mildly angered Carmen. After all, it did say he had been seriously burned. That was a happy little nugget she had not anticipated. She assumed they would all just run outside. It somewhat mollified her that he was injured; at least it hadn’t been a total waste.
She had just entered her meetings and client deliverables into the office shared calendar when she heard the elevator. She didn’t even turn her head; it was obvious someone was coming in late. That isn’t unusual on a Monday.
Moments later, her manager was at her desk, “Carmen, could I see you in the meeting room?”
“Absolutely, which client file should I bring?” she asked, all crisp grammar and workplace cheer.
“Just your purse, no client files are needed,” was her manager’s response.
This caused Carmen to pause, but she covered veryquickly.
“Oh?That’s fine, I’ll be there in just a moment, I will hit the ladies room on the way,” she said.
“No, come now, it won’t take but a few minutes,” her manager insisted.
At this Carmen’s inner ‘Trouble’s Coming’ gauge went over to red. WARNING, WARNING.
Slowly, she stood and said, “After you,” and followed her manager to the meeting room.
Even more oddly her boss said, “I will see you afterward. Go on in and take a seat,” and then she turned on her heel and strode quickly to her office.
Carmen entered the room and was surprised to see two men, one Latino and the other Black.
Smiling warmly she extending her hand, “How can I help you, gentlemen? I’m Carmen Nickey.”
Both the detectives were immediately struck by her looks. Carmen was wearing a royal blue straight skirt that stopped in the center of her knee, she had on a soft yellow button down blouse with pearl button accents. Her lobes were adorned, gold swirl earrings with a pearl nestled in the center. Her peep toe heels were high and her legs in silk hosiery.
The men were no fashion experts, but she looked and smelled expensive. Hair expertly styled and her make-up was subtle and highlighted her best features. She definitely looked like a “fancy lady.”
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Nickey, we hope to be out of your way shortly. I’m Detective Smith and that’s Detective Wesley, please have a seat,” Smith said.
With a small smile, Carmen sat and crossed her legs she held back a laugh as the detectives took a long look. “Whatever they want to know, they are still men,” Carmen thought.
“What kind of car do you drive, ma’am?” Detective Smith’s first question took Carmen by surprise.
“Has something happened to my car?” she asked.
“We are trying to figure that out,” Smith said.
“I drive a white, S-class Mercedes Benz,” she replied.
Smith and Wesley looked at each other and then back at Carmen.
“Have you recently purchased a car, other than the Benz?” Smith asked.
“No,” was her immediate and firm response.
At this, Wesley slid a file folder across to Smith who then removed a single photo.
“This is not you at Get and Go Cars in the Oak Cliff area of Dallas eight weeks ago?” Detective Smith asked.
Carmen calmly looked at the photo, it looked like her figure, but she had worn a curly wig and glasses to obscure her face.
“This person has a frame similar to mine, but that is certainly not me. I don’t even own sweat pants,” she said with a smile.
Again, Smith and Wesley shared a look and this time a simultaneous, “Hunh.”
“Okay, thank you Ms. Nickey. Just a couple more questions,” Smith said.
“Of course, Detective Smith,” she purred. Men love it when you say their name it can be distracting when said just right.
Apparently, Detective Smith wasn’t easily distracted.
“Can you tell me where you were Thursday morning at about two in the morning?” he asked.
“I was in the bed! Like all the other worker bees,” she said.
“There is a concern you may be the arsonist responsible for the attempt on the lives of Jack and Alera Gainer, as well as Malea and Noel Gainer,” Smith said.
Then, after he dropped that little nugget he followed up with, “Now, is there anyone who can confirm you were home? Is it possible you were on your home computer or texting a friend?”
Carmen lost her smile.
“No, there is not.”
Once again, the detectives shared a look and this time Wesley asks the question.
“Can you explain your presence in South Dallas, on September 4? A woman matching your description abandoned a vehicle in the projects there. A vehicle, that just so happens to have been purchased under the name Shannon Evans at the Grab and Go Cars dealership,” Wesley said.
“Let me be as clear as I can,” Carmen started.
“Please. Do,” Wesley said in a commanding tone.
“I will. I was not in South Dallas on September 4, nor was I on any other date. I have no family or business interests in that area. I haven’t even been to the State Fair held at Fair Park since the original Big Tex burned,” she stated.
“Further, let me restate I have not purchased any vehicle, other than the white S-class I mentioned in answer to your first question. I am sorry to hear some woman named Shannon Evans seems to be in some sort of difficulty, but it has nothing to do with me,” she said in a very tight voice.
“Finally, while I do not have a witness to alibi the fact I was sleeping, I can assure you I haven’t seen Jack Gainer in a decade. You might want to see if his ex-wife has something to do with his house going up in flames. Now, if there is nothing else, you will excuse me, I’m leaving,” she said as she stood and headed for the door.
Detective Smith beat her to it and held it closed.
Looking down at her from his superior height, he said, “Don’t leave town, we may have more questions. Oh, do have a seat, your boss wants a word when we leave,” he said. At that, he pointed at the seat she had just vacated until she crossed the room and resumed her former position.
The detectives then left the room and in less than a minute, her manager was in the room.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you Carmen. I’m sure you understand my position,” she said.
“Of course, Ann, I understand,” Carmen said.
“G
ood, I’m glad. I hope you also understand that until all of this is cleared up, we are placing you on paid leave. We want you to have a chance to sort out this…messiness in your life. Your job is safe for forty-five days and at the end of that time, we will revisit. Okay?” Ann said.
Now, Carmen wasn’t one to be surprised, but this was a moment that definitely caught her unaware. She wasn’t by any means light in the pockets, but still, being unemployed wasn’t something she planned for when she started all this.
“Of course, Ann, I understand. I hope you understand that during this month I will be unavailable while I sort out this messiness,” and with that Carmen sailed out the door with her head up and incidentally enough, the flash drive with all her client information in her purse.
“Let’s see how they get along without their client files for the next month,” she thought.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Carmen sat in her jet tub, bubbles up to her chin, staring at a glass of apple whiskey on the table next to a flickering candle and thinking about her next move.
It had seemed to her the best plan was to create a circumstance that required Shan to come home. However, her plan had been faulty from the beginning because she made a couple of errors in her original thinking.
First of all, why would she rush home because of identity theft? People solved all those types of problems online these days. There was no need to come home to dispute the purchases. Not only that, she obviously had someone on this side of the world managing her affairs, possibly an accountant or attorney.
The second mistake was to believe Jack had any emotional hold over Shan. Ten years is a long time, he had a new life and so did she. Of course she wouldn’t come rushing home just because his house was set on fire. It didn’t even burn all the way to the ground.
So, she thought, as she admired her pedicure in the candlelight, “What to do?”
What circumstance will make a woman who had lived in another country for ten years come back home?
Carmen didn’t really want to actually kill anyone; she had no illusions about the potential of being caught. There was some pretty powerful circumstantial evidence against her. She had to be very careful. They would never be able to pin that arson on her, but the identity theft was a different thing entirely due to the potential for them to trace purchases back to her computer.
The first thing she would do when she got out of this tub is destroy that computer. She still remembered how to take the back off and pull the motherboard out of the machine. She would rip that laptop to pieces. She wasn’t built for jail.
While Carmen was trying to come up with a plan to get Shan to come home, Katy was shopping with Jack’s mother.
His dad was at the hospital and Alera was at her in-laws with the girls, resting.
Katy and Mrs. Greiner were trying to put together a few days’ worth of supplies for the currently displaced family. The house was still a crime scene and even after it was possible to enter; it would need a professional cleaning. The insurance company needed to assess the damage and determine how much they would give toward repairs.
So, the two grannies made their way through Target with determination. Having an intimidating list of items and groceries was no deterrent to conversation.
“So you are telling me this Carmen has come back and is harassing our children?” Mrs. Greiner asked Katy.
“Yes, that is exactly what has happened. Neither of them has any idea what she wants exactly,” Katy explained.
“At this point, I am almost ready to go to that woman’s house and ask!” Katy said.
“I think she could be dangerous,” Mrs. Greiner said.
“She wants them hurting. What conversation could you have? What concession could be made? What information shared? This woman either wants them dead or miserable,” she continued.
“I agree. I think we need to hire a private detective and get an understanding of exactly what we are dealing with, because this behavior can only get worse,” Katy said.
“I will speak to my husband, you know he is still in touch with a lot of his military friends and at least two of them are in some sort of security work, it is mostly behind a desk but I am pretty sure this is going to start with a basic records search,” Mrs. Greiner suggested.
“I will leave that to you and your husband. I will continue to work with my friend in the police force and see if this woman has other crimes in her background,” Katy said.
Jack was groggy and in a great deal of pain. His recall was pretty good as long as the pain was controlled. He had surfaced enough to inquire about his family. He was aware he had been in surgery, primarily to remove glass from his back. The burns could not be described as painful. This agony was on a completely different level. The prospect of lying on his belly for the next several months, stretched before him like an eternity.
When he wasn’t in a haze of pain or fog of medicine, he wanted to kill Carmen. That was a thought never far from his mind. He was almost glad for this injury, because if he was able bodied, he might wind up spending the rest of his life in jail. Still, it was hard to keep that fury properly pitched, because the pain was like high waves continuously washing over a struggling swimmer.
He looked around and saw his father sitting, reading. Mr. Greiner felt his son’s eyes on him and quickly stood to bring him water. The nurse had instructed him to be prepared to offer his son water as often as he was willing to drink it. The side effects of the medicine included cottonmouth and they wanted him to be comfortable and hydrated as much as possible. His body was healing itself, but even with the best medicine, basics like water could not be neglected. He needed to flush his system. Jack sucked greedily at the straw offered by his father. The sensation of the cool water moving over his tongue and sliding down his belly was very comforting. Then, he succumbed to the fog and drifted away, away, away.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Detectives Smith and Wesley were sitting at a diner, discussing their case notes.
“I’m surprised Ms. Nickey didn’t appear more shaken to see two detectives at her place of employment,” Smith said, around a guacamole cheese burger.
“Don’t talk while you have food in your mouth, that’s disgusting,” Wesley responded and proceeded to immediately be the pot to Smith’s kettle.
Wesley said, “We need to see who else she has harassed, no one starts right off burning down houses. Let’s find out who else needed an Order to keep her distant.”
Pausing to swallow, Smith agreed, “Yes, we should also check for aliases and name changes, see if we can find her parents and find out how far back this erratic behavior started.”
“I guess we are officially considering Ms. Nickey a Person of Interest,” Wesley said.
“We have no one else to consider. When Miss Katy first got in touch with us and after we spoke with her daughter, I was leaning toward the ex. Divorce does strange things to people. The arson is a little too over the top for an ex who has been gone ten years and until very recently, Shannon was the one being victimized. So, yes, I think we need to go with Ms. Nickey as our primary focus,” agreed Smith.
“I think the other reason you agree is that when we ran Jack’s credit history, there doesn’t appear to be any financial urgency. Outside of their mortgage and student loans, Jack and his wife pretty much keep the credit cards under control and only one of them is still paying a car note. There doesn’t appear to be any evidence of financial catastrophe that would make a man open lines of credit in his ex’s name,” said Wesley.
Grabbing a few fries, Smith winked and said, “Yeah, that too.”
They finished their meal and after radioing in to let dispatch know they were off lunch break, they pulled up Carmen Nickey’s file on the iPad all the detectives had now. In the file were the details they needed and after confirming that she only had one living parent they headed on over to her father’s last known address. Mr. Nickey had not aged well. He had gout and a diabetes problem. He wasn’t a
complainer. He listened to his doctor and the diabetes was managed, that gout though was a bitch. This is why it took him so long to get to the door when the detectives knocked.
After several knocks and a rather rude finger lingering on the doorbell, Mr. Nickey made it to the door. “Did you read the sign?” was the first thing he asked.
Belatedly, Smith and Wesley took in the sign that read, “I’m on a cane, give me a minute.”
It had been on the exterior wall so long, it wasn’t very noticeable, covered as it was in pollen and dust.
“Our apologies sir, could we have a word with you about your daughter, Carmen Nickey?” Smith asked.
With a sigh, Mr. Nickey walked awkwardly out the door and sat heavily in the porch chair. With a gesture, he indicated the detectives should help themselves to one of the fold out chairs leaning against the porch railing.
“What’s happening with my girl?” he asked.
“Sir, a Jack and Alera Greiner have filed a restraining order against her as has one Shannon Evans, who currently lives out of the country. Can you tell me about that?” Smith asked.
“The only name that sounds near about familiar is that Jack. He was something terrible to my girl when they were younger,” he replied.
“Oh? They have a history?” Wesley leaned forward with his question. The hound in him was picking up a scent.
“I wouldn’t call it a history, more like kid stuff. He was a little prick when she was a girl and made her life miserable. It’s not like they were young lovers or close friends. Theirs is more like a David and Goliath story. He was charming and popular and she was quiet and shy,” Mr. Nickey sighed.
“I probably should have taken it more serious. All the TV shows these days are about that bullying. Back then, it was just part of being a kid, but it did mess her up. It was just the two of us, her mama died when she was real young. I didn’t understand a little girl’s feelings the way a mother could have. Telling her to ignore it didn’t work,” he finished.
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