Painted Beauty (Sinclair O'Malley Book 2)

by J. M. LeDuc

  She called for the guards who escorted Joel back to his cell.

  Joel’s words and the ramifications of how deep his abuse stuck with Sin after she left Chrome. Vivid images, vile images, looped in her mind the entire time she rode down to the Keys.

  CHAPTER 69

  Sin stopped in Marathon to stretch her legs and make a couple of phone calls. One was to Charlie. He sounded as if he was happy to be home, and she breathed a small sigh of relief. He told her that he was at the airport and Sin said she would meet him at his hangar. She couldn’t help but notice that his voice sounded weak.

  She rolled onto the access road that led to the old Key West Airport. A newer one had been built to accommodate larger aircraft, but the locals and small aircraft still preferred the original. This was where Charlie’s hangar was located; Sin’s home-away-from-home.

  Giving the throttle of her bike one quick twist, she blasted down the long road that housed the hangars. She did it for old-time’s sake and to announce her arrival. The guttural roar of her Panhead echoed off the tin buildings letting Charlie, and anyone else within a half mile, know she was there.

  She stepped off her bike and saw Charlie in the same position she’d seen him in a thousand times. He was bent over an engine of one of his projects.

  “Holy shit,” Sin exclaimed. “Is that a 1941 Cessna AT-17?”

  She heard wheezy laughter come from inside the engine compartment. “It is an AT-17 Bobcat,” Charlie said, “but it’s a 1942. You’re slipping, Sinclair.”

  “Sue me,” she said, lighting up a smoke.

  His right arm emerged from the engine compartment, and he wiggled his fingers. “Pass me the long-handled flat-head, and we can talk about lawsuits later.”

  Sin smiled as she reached back to Charlie’s tool chest. Without looking, she felt down to the second drawer, opened it and grabbed the second screwdriver from the left. Handing it to Charlie, she knew it was the right one. That little exercise reminded Sin why she was worried about her friend. He was a man of patterns and schedules, yet he seemed to veer off his vacation schedule by a long shot, or, he had lied to her. She wasn’t sure which one bothered her more.

  He reached back, handed her the screwdriver, and asked for a rag. The transfer was performed as it had been ever since Sin was fourteen. Her pulse quickened as she watched her closest friend.

  When he straightened up, she knew. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, she knew. She smiled, hoping her true emotions didn’t show, and hugged Charlie tight. “It’s been too long, old man.”

  “That’s usually my line,” Charlie said, hugging her back. “What do you say we have a seat and you can fill me in on what really happened in Iowa.”

  “What really happened? What does that mean?” Sin said, ending the embrace.

  “Well, I’ve heard from Raul. From his rendition, I don’t think he’s sure if you’re an angel or a demon.” Charlie walked, a little slower than usual, behind his desk where he poured them both a cup of coffee. Taking a seat, he continued, “And then I heard from Frank.”

  He stopped to pass a mug to Sin.

  “And?” she said. “What was his skew on the case?”

  Charlie lifted his mug to his lips and sipped the hot brew.

  Sin couldn’t help but notice how thin and patchy his beard was.

  “Frank is Frank,” Charlie said. “He talked to Raul, he talked to Fletcher and Garcia, and he talked to the local office in the Quad Cities. He’s holding out on his opinion until you call him.” Charlie leaned across his desk putting his weight on his elbows. “Call him. He deserves to hear it from you.”

  “I needed to talk to a few people first. I want to have all the facts before I talk to Frank.”

  Charlie sat back and crossed his left leg over his right. He drummed his fingers on the steel chair and stared at Sin, as if studying her. The drumming stopped and he leaned forward. “You don’t think this case is over, do you?”

  Sin curled a leg up under her butt and lit another cigarette. Charlie grabbed the pack, lighting one for himself.

  “What are you doing? You haven’t smoked in thirty years. Since way before I even met you.”

  Charlie inhaled deep and blew the smoke toward the ceiling. “It wasn’t way before we met.”

  “Whatever. You know what I mean.”

  “In my condition it doesn’t really matter now, does it,” he replied.

  Sin brought her own cigarette to her lips and inhaled. Anything to stall. She would have eaten it if she thought it would have put off this conversation.

  She decided to ignore the elephant in the room for the time being. “You want to know how it went in Iowa?”

  “Yeah,” Charlie smiled. “I do.”

  Sin gave him a blow-by-blow of everything that occurred from the time they landed to the time they left the Quad Cities Airport. He stubbed out his cigarette and nodded from time to time, but he never spoke. In fact, the only time Sin saw any type of emotional response was when she mentioned Trudy.

  “What,” Sin exclaimed, “did you have a thing for Trudy? My god, no wonder it took you two years to solve the Ash case.”

  “It’s not what you’re thinking, Sinclair. We were just friends.”

  Sin rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  “Back to the case,” Charlie said. “From what everyone told me, and especially from what you’ve told me, you played it right.”

  “Then why don’t I feel the satisfaction I get when a job is over?”

  “You said it yourself,” Charlie said, standing up behind the desk. “Because it’s not over. You still don’t know where George is or if he’s alive, and you don’t know if Ashley was a part of all of this, although I doubt it.”

  Charlie’s words stunned Sin. “Why would you say that? It seems the odds are stacked against her.”

  “I’m not saying she’s innocent. I’m just saying that I don’t think she was part of the Painted Beauty killings. I think she was as blindsided as everyone else to find out Miranda was still alive.”

  Sin sat forward and pushed her hair from her face. She closed her eyes and breathed out through puffed cheeks. “I need a fucking break when this case is over,” she said, rubbing her tired eyes.

  “I agree,” Charlie said, “and I know exactly what you are going to do on that break.”

  “Oh? And what would that be Obi-Wan?”

  “Well, if you had ever come over here like I asked you to in your birthday card, you might have figured it out by now.”

  “I’m not spending my time off working on a 1942 Bobcat.”

  “You’re such a wiseass.” Charlie led Sin to a garage that was attached to the hangar. A garage Charlie had once converted to a spare room. A room Sin would crash in when she didn’t want to go home to her father, or just when she needed time alone. On the door was a small Happy Birthday, Sinclair sign.

  Sin looked up at Charlie and was about to say something sarcastic when, instead, she excitedly grabbed the door knob and yanked it open.

  The room was lit in a soft white light that seemed to radiate an even more heavenly glow than when she last set eyes on it.

  Sin brought her hands to her mouth in shock. “No fucking way,” she breathed.

  Charlie was grinning from ear-to-ear. “I had her fully restored. She’s all yours. Happy Birthday, Sinclair.”

  Sin ogled the 1968 metallic-turquoise Plymouth Barracuda convertible with white leather seats and top. “It’s just like the car you owned when we first met,” she said, running her hand gently over the paint. “The one I learned how to drive in.”

  “It is the car I owned,” Charlie said.

  Sin’s head snapped in his direction. “What?”

  “It took me quite a while to find it but, hey, if I could figure out the Kennedy assassination then I thought finding an old car would be easy. I found it northeast of Boston. It was a real mess, but I massaged her back into shape.” He lovingly ran his hand over the hood. “All matching numbers. 383 sma
ll block, just the way it should be.”

  “Charlie, I can’t—”

  “Of course you can. And you will. Let’s not kid ourselves, Sinclair. I could tell by your eyes when you first saw me that you know I have cancer. It’s an inoperable brain tumor. I also know you traced my cell and know that I was in Sweden when I called. I was actually there the entire time I was gone, getting an experimental treatment.”

  Tears fell down Sin’s face as she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on as if her life depended on it.

  Charlie kissed her tears as they fell. “What the heck are you crying for? It worked!”

  She looked at him in wonder, not knowing whether to be happy, sad, or to just punch him in the jaw for scaring the hell out of her.

  “I’m not cancer free,” he said. “Never will be. But it’s in remission, and I have at least one good year left.” He reached into his pants pocket and handed her a key ring. “These are yours on one condition.”

  “What would that be,” Sin said, wiping her nose with her own shirt sleeve.

  Charlie watched and his face puckered like he just ate a lemon. “Make that two conditions.”

  Sin laughed and punched him on the shoulder. “What’s the condition, old man?”

  “I want to take a trip home; a trip to where I grew up so I can see my parents’ graves, visit whatever relatives I have left, and I want you to come with me.”

  “Trip where?” Sin leaned back against the car. “Relatives?” She crossed her arms and looked dismayed at what Charlie had just said. “Home? Charlie, what are you talking about? I thought you were born in Key West. You told me you were the last of the Johnsons.”

  “Well, sometimes we make our own truths in order to wipe away the pain,” he answered. “Truth is, I was born in Meredith, New Hampshire. My parents passed away when I was young. My mom when I was fourteen, my dad when I was eighteen. That’s when I left New England for Quantico. There just never seemed any reason to go back. I landed in Key West during an assignment that took me to Cuba. I loved the Keys and never left. I am the last of the Johnsons, but there is another side to my family.”

  “And what side would that be?”

  Sin’s phone rang. “It’s Frank.”

  “You better answer it.”

  Sin listened and gave an occasional ah-ha. “Would you mind if I put you on speaker for the last part of that dissertation,” Sin interrupted, teasingly. “It involves Charlie, also.”

  Frank agreed.

  Sin placed her phone on speaker and held it out for Charlie to hear.

  “The salvage crew located Miranda’s car under the Rickenbacker Causeway. They also found the skeletal remains of Brianna Willow.”

  “You’re sure it was her?” Sin said.

  “Of course I’m sure.” His voice rose in amplitude as he continued, “I’m staring at the forensics report as we speak.”

  Sin winked at Charlie as Frank grew angrier with each word. “Don’t get your panties in a wad, Frank. I’m just dotting my ‘i’s’ and crossing my ‘t’s.’ ”

  “Speaking of that, Agent O’Malley, where is the official report that was supposed to be filed this morning, and why haven’t I heard from you?”

  “Sorry, Frank, you’re breaking up. I will call you later.” Sin hung up as Frank was in mid yell.

  “Why do you push his buttons like that, Sinclair?”

  “I’m still pissed off at him for canning my ass seven years ago. This is just a little payback.”

  Charlie laughed. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

  “Consider yourself warned. You were about to tell me about the other side of your family when Frank called.”

  “There will be time later. What’s your plan?”

  “I’m going to meet up with Fletch and Garcia. Sergeant Glenn’s men will keep an eye on Ashley while we decide our next step.”

  She straddled her Harley, tying her hair back in a quick braid, secured by a rubber band.

  “I’d like to come along,” Charlie said.

  Sin cocked her head to the side as she slid her sunglasses over her eyes.

  “I started this case forty-five years ago and I’d like to finish it, if that’s okay with you.”

  Sin nodded. “I will meet you at the Miami Beach office. Oh, and by the way, sorry about your boat.”

  “Consider this paying me back in full,” Charlie said.

  CHAPTER 70

  It was almost eleven p.m. by the time Sin and Charlie arrived at the district office. Everyone was happy to see Charlie, especially Evelyn.

  “I finally get to meet the infamous Barracuda,” she beamed. “It’s not every day you get to meet a living legend.”

  “Barracuda?” Sin said. “Oh, I’ve got to hear this one.”

  “Nothing to tell, Sinclair,” Charlie said as he cupped Evelyn’s hand between both of his. “We all had monikers back then, that’s all.”

  “Sure, whatever you say, Cuda.”

  Charlie ignored her biting wit and held on to Evelyn’s hand a little longer than necessary. “Please call me Charlie.”

  Evelyn blushed. “And you can call me Eve.”

  “Okay, now that everyone’s hot and sticky, can we please meet in the conference room? I want a report on the information I asked for, Ashley’s daily activities, and we’ll need a fresh pot of coffee. It’s been a long day.”

  They all sat around the table with Garcia taking post in front of the whiteboard. “Evelyn was able to obtain the security footage from the apartment complex where Joel lived.” He turned on the laptop which was attached to a projector. A security schematic of the building came up on the board, and he reached over and turned off the lights in the room.

  “The building is located in a high crime area so the owners installed security cameras in the lobby, elevators, and hallways. There are sign-in sheets documenting everyone who entered and left the premises,” he said.

  “The next picture you’ll see is of a woman entering approximately one month ago.”

  “I’m surprised they still had footage from that long ago,” Sin said.

  “We got lucky. This place has seen its better days and they still keep their footage on DVD.”

  “The person I spoke to,” Evelyn interrupted, “said it was cheaper to buy DVDs than to upgrade the system.”

  With a click of a remote, everyone saw Miranda standing at the front desk.

  “I went and spoke to the receptionist who was working the day Miranda arrived.” Garcia clicked to the next slide. “She signed the visitor’s log with a fake ID. Well…sort of a fake ID. She checked in under Joanna Ash.

  “I found it interesting that this was the only time the cameras ever picked up Miranda entering Joel’s residence.”

  “And you followed up?” Sin said. It was more of a rhetorical question than anything else. She knew Garcia wouldn’t have left any threads hanging.

  “I did. I will come back to that point in a few minutes. It ties in with the next few slides.” He flipped to the next picture. “Here’s George arriving at the exact time Ashley thought he had. The next slide shows him stepping onto the elevator. The next thing you will see is a short video. I wanted everyone to see what I saw when I viewed this footage.

  “The camera angle’s not very good. There are two cameras on every floor situated on both ends of the hall.”

  Everyone was spellbound, their gazes were locked onto the screen as George was seen stepping off the elevator. He tentatively walked down the hall, checking room numbers as he went.

  “It’s evident that he had never been there and was unfamiliar with Joel’s apartment,” Fletcher remarked.

  “Affirmative,” Garcia said. “Keep that in mind.”

  George hesitated before knocking on Joel’s door.

  When the door to the apartment opened, the conference room became more than silent; it became a graveyard.

  George was grabbed and pulled into the apartment, the door slamming shut behind
him.

  Charlie was the first one to his feet. He pointed at the video. “Do you have stills of what just happened?”

  Garcia nodded, clicking to the next picture. “Evelyn was kind enough to call in a few markers and have these next few photos enhanced.”

  “I only had enough time to get a few of them done,” she announced, sounding apologetic.

  “You did more in the time you were given than any of us could have done,” Garcia said.

  Sin caught her smile at the compliment.

  “This first picture is a close up of George knocking on the door,” Garcia continued.

  “He looks petrified,” Sin said.

  “This next one shows him talking to whoever was inside.”

  “There appears to be a fresh resolve in his expression,” Charlie commented.

  “As if, he had no choice,” Sin said. “He had been pushed around his entire life. First by Miranda and then by his sister. Ashley said that she tried to talk him out of doing anything rash, but his mind was made up.”

  “It looks like he gained some courage,” Charlie acknowledged.

  Garcia clicked to the next picture. “This next slide may change your mind on that.”

  The picture showed the door open and a look of abject horror on George’s face. Garcia didn’t stay on the slide for long, but quickly brought up the next slide. It showed a close-up of a hand reach out and grab George by the hair, pulling him into the apartment. The hand was weathered and appeared female.

  “Is that Miranda’s?” Fletcher asked.

  “That would explain some things, but it leaves me with even more questions,” Sin said.

  “Let me finish and I think all of your questions will be answered.”

  Sin filled a mug with coffee, and listened as Garcia proceeded.

  “The next photo will be of Ashley arriving. I have another short video for you to watch.”

  The video, like the one before, followed Ashley as she entered the elevator and got off on Joel’s floor. She walked down the hall, knocked on the door, spoke, and was let in.