by Rayna Morgan
Driving through the gates of Spanish Hills, she followed his car to a gated Mediterranean-style home. When the gate swung open and Sheldon drove in, she glimpsed the Cadillac parked in the driveway.
“Well, well,” Maddy thought smugly. “I thought Wong’s offered takeout. Not home delivery.”
• • •
With no idea how long Sheldon might stay, Maddy decided to call it a night.
Before she left Spanish Hills, she called Lea with an update. “Are you at your computer?”
“What do you need?”
“I want you to check public records for the address I give you. You’re good at that stuff.” She read a number painted on the curb in front of Laura’s house. “Verify the house belongs to people with the last name of Gillette. Any additional information you find might prove useful. Call me tomorrow with the information.”
“Does that mean your surveillance was successful?”
“In terms of finding Pat’s stalker, only to the extent of eliminating a suspect.”
“As Dad always says, a large part of detection is elimination. Your efforts weren’t wasted.”
“At least, I had a good meal. Surveillance work isn’t half bad given the right location.”
Lea laughed. “Don’t expect to always have it so good.”
“How did your day go? What did you learn about the homeless woman?”
“I didn’t get enough information to check her off our list of suspects.”
“You usually get what you’re after. Did she outsmart you and elude your questions?”
“Not exactly. When I found her at the park, my questioning was interrupted by gunshots.”
“How exciting!”
“It got even more exciting when Tom showed up and saw me on the Avenue.”
“Double wow! Did he want to know what you were doing there?”
“Pat distracted him before he asked. I’m afraid my husband won’t be as easily deterred from asking reasons for my visit.”
“Maybe Tom won’t tell Paul he saw you.”
“The same way I’m not telling you that I saw Tom.”
Maddy groaned. “Oh, I see your point. I suppose Tom will ask me, too. Pat wanting us to keep our investigation under wraps has put us in untenable positions with Paul and Tom.”
“Don’t forget about Dad. I’m sure he suspects we’re up to something.”
“That’s why the sooner we crack this case, the better. What’s your next move?”
“With no further reason to contact Mary, I can only wait to hear from her. In the meantime, I’ll visit the building where she lived when her husband was arrested. Maybe I’ll find a friend or neighbor who can shed light on Mary’s feelings toward Pat.”
“All right. I’ll be at the furniture store tomorrow. Let me know if there’s anything else you need me to do. Have fun explaining yourself to Paul.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Tom was in his office with Pat Fisher and Becky, the Chief’s assistant, when a line lit up on the telephone console.
“I better take this. That’s the Chief.”
He swirled his chair toward the window while the other two continued their conversation.
A moment later, he turned back and looked at Pat. “I have good news and bad news.”
“Let’s hear the good news first.”
“They may have identified one of the gang members in the drive-by shooting that killed your high school friend.”
“You’re kidding! After all this time, one of those scumbags confessed?”
“Not exactly. Detectives at your old precinct arrested a thirty-year-old gang member, Manuel Ortiz, in connection with a recent murder. After being jailed, the guy was shooting off his mouth to his cell mate. Bragging about how many crimes he’s committed. He mentioned the shooting which involved your friend, but said he couldn’t take credit for a hit because the victim was an innocent bystander caught in the crossfire.”
“What happened, Pat?” Becky asked. “That sounds terrible.”
An invisible veil masked the policewoman’s eyes. “I was on the girls’ basketball team and we had a game across town. We were passing through a bad neighborhood when a hubcap flew off our bus. The driver stopped and got out. Two vehicles raced by. The occupants were shooting at each other. Two of their shots hit the bus. One bullet shattered the glass and hit the girl sitting at the window next to me. She was my best friend.”
“How dreadful!”
“My mother encouraged me to get over the senselessness of my friend’s death by responding constructively. That’s when I decided to become a cop. Getting gangs off the streets couldn’t bring back my friend. But in my mind, it makes her death stand for something.”
Becky touched Pat’s shoulder. “Good for you.”
Pat looked at Tom. “If Ortiz told his cell mate, how did our guys find out?”
“The cell mate was smart enough, or stupid enough depending on whether Manuel finds out, to use the information as a bargaining chip.”
“Have the detectives questioned Ortiz?”
“His mouthpiece sprung him for lack of evidence on the current charges before they had a chance.”
“What about my friend’s death?”
“There’s insufficient cause to question Ortiz based solely on his cell mate trying to make a deal.”
Tom saw the frustrated look on Pat’s face.
“Don’t worry, they aren’t giving up. A detective is coming down to review the incident with you. He’s bringing pictures of Ortiz. The cell mate’s testimony, together with your input and possible identification, should be sufficient grounds to pull Ortiz in for questioning.”
“Good. Who are they sending to talk with me?”
Tom grimaced. “That’s the bad news.”
Pat and Becky uttered the name in unison. “Cranston!”
Becky sighed. “Can’t they send someone else? Any other officer would be preferable.”
“I know that none of us like Cranston, but—”
Pat interrupted. “Especially after the way he handled that murder at the hotel during the three-day weekend.”
Tom’s voice grew stern at mention of a case involving Maddy’s ex-husband. “As you know, Cranston was under orders to conduct the questioning when I was suspended.”
“He used bullying tactics to try to get a confession from an innocent person,” Pat blurted.
Tom leaned back, allowing his detective time to get her emotions under control.
“Are you sure your antagonism doesn’t stem from your personal experience with Cranston?”
Becky eyed Pat with curiosity.
Pat sighed and offered an explanation.
“Cranston was my supervisor at the precinct where I was assigned after basic training. He and I didn’t get along.” She scowled. “At least, not the way he wanted. His continued harassment led to my request for a transfer.”
“Why didn’t you file a complaint?” Becky asked.
“I worried about rubbing people the wrong way and gaining a reputation as a complainer. If I didn’t prove myself as a team player who fit into the culture, my career could have been severely limited.” She smiled smugly. “But I made him understand in no uncertain terms before I left that if I hear of his coming on to another non-consenting woman, I’ll make him pay.”
“I can’t imagine Cranston is a man who responds well to threats.”
“It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.”
• • •
Pat went outside where she couldn’t be heard and called a helicopter pilot at her old precinct. Gloria was one of the few people who knew the reason for Pat’s transfer.
“Hey, girl. Long time, no see.” Gloria sounded happy to hear from her. “I hope you’re calling to say you’re coming back.”
“Nope, I’m happy where I am.”
“Any particular reason, other than no longer having a jackass for a boss?”
Pat laughed. “Everyone here is a pleasure t
o work with.”
“What about your personal life? Or should I say, nonexistent personal life?”
“Things are good in that department, too, for the moment. I’ll let you know the long-term prognosis when I figure it out myself. How’s life treating you?”
“You can imagine, between flying this chopper all day and going home to three kids at night.”
“I thought you only had two children.”
“I’m talking about my four-year-old, my seven-year-old, and my thirty-five-year-old.”
Pat chuckled, missing the easy banter with her former co-worker. “We’ve got to get together to catch up. Right now, I’ve called to pick your brain.”
“Pick away. At the moment, my partner and I are sitting on the ground waiting for a call-out.”
“Regarding that jackass supervisor you mentioned, did Cranston get over my threat to report him if he harassed another female?”
Gloria lowered her voice to avoid being heard. “He never forgets a threat, especially coming from a woman. Word got around about how you dressed him down. If you recall, he’s known for paybacks.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I just got word he’s headed our way. He and I butted heads the last time he came to town. I don’t look forward to seeing him again.”
“Can you avoid him?”
“Hardly. I’m the person he’s coming to see.”
“Did he give a reason?”
“To talk about a drive-by shooting I was involved in as a teenager.”
“I remember you telling me about your friend. Why does he need to see you?”
“It has to do with their arrest of Manuel Ortiz. Apparently, Ortiz talked to his cell mate about a shooting which resulted in the death of a girl on a bus. He mentioned the date of my friend’s murder.”
“Great! Maybe they’ll finally nail your friend’s murderer.”
“It will be worth talking to Cranston if the information I provide gets Ortiz put away. But thanks for the heads up on what to expect.”
She started to ring off.
“Wait, Pat. There’s something else you should know.”
“I’m listening.”
“I heard the Chief confront Cranston about an incident that occurred last week. They thought the locker room was empty, but I went back for my sunglasses.”
“What does their confrontation have to do with me?”
“The Chief knows about advances Cranston made toward you and considers Cranston lucky you never filed a complaint. Your name came up regarding recent rumors of a police dispatcher being hassled.”
“Sounds like Cranston is repeating his bad behavior.”
“Now the Chief is worried you’ll make good your threat to Cranston about hassling female officers by disclosing your suspicions about the call girl cover-up.”
Pat’s anger bubbled to the surface as she recalled Cranston’s defense of an officer accused of trading sex for protection from prosecution.
“What exactly did the Chief say?”
“He cautioned Cranston that no one in the department wants that to happen for fear of a public relations nightmare.”
“What happened next?”
“Cranston began to argue. I didn’t want them to know I overheard so I left. At the next squad meeting, Cranston insisted on taking over the Ortiz case.”
“You’re saying it wasn’t Cranston’s case to start with?”
“Johnson caught the call on Cranston’s day off. It was Johnson who made the arrest.”
“It’s not protocol for a superior to take a case from the arresting officer. What reason did Cranston give?”
“He claims interviewing you about the cold case murder Ortiz may be involved in gives him an excuse to visit a sick relative who lives near Buena Viaje. Now that we’ve talked, I’m not sure the cousin is his reason for the trip.”
Pat’s stomach cramped. “You think he’s coming to settle a score?”
“Or to give you a warning.”
“Thanks for the tip. I’ll watch my step.”
“Another word of caution. Cranston’s been drinking, both off-duty and on.”
“Any particular reason?”
“His marriage went sideways. He moved out, but complains his wife won’t let him see the kids. The whole mess puts him on edge.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll tread lightly around him.”
Pat hung up.
She had no intention of treading lightly if he was the one behind the threats she received.
• • •
During a break, Pat retrieved a business card from her locker.
She called the psychologist she was referred to for a fitness-for-duty evaluation after her near-death experience at the hands of Mickey Flynn.
“Any time for me today, Doc?”
“I hope you aren’t having repercussions from your perilous encounter.”
“Nothing to do with that. I need advice on a departmental matter.”
“I’ve had a cancellation, if you can be here at five.”
“See you then.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
By the time Warren arrived at the office, he had devised a plan.
First, he searched the internet for information on Marge’s broker. The personnel page of Integrity Gold and Silver showed the owner and his daughter, three account executives, and an administrative assistant. The picture of Toby Turner matched Marge’s description of a handsome man with wavy brown hair, bushy brows over dark eyes, and a manicured mustache.
Armed with that information and what he learned from Don Ellis, he called a meeting in the conference room. He started by affording the sisters an opportunity to come clean about their actions.
“Unless you two have something to tell me…”
As they had when they were children, his daughters made no response beyond an exchange of sheepish looks.
“Then, let’s move on. I’ve brought a new case. An investment scam.”
“That sounds interesting,” Lea said, relieved her father changed his focus. “Did it come through referral?”
“It came through the woman I’m married to.”
“Mom was the source of your last case, the canine caper,” Maddy recalled. “The case you pursued with such dogged determination.”
The sisters giggled.
“Enough, you two,” he growled. “This case involves a neighbor in the condominiums where your mother and I live.”
He recounted events leading to the financial loss Marge suffered.
Maddy clucked her tongue. “That’s despicable. This Toby guy took advantage of an older woman living on her own.”
“Marge’s case is far from an isolated incident,” her father replied. “Companies dealing with investments often use high-pressure sales tactics, downplay associated risks, and promise to act in the customer’s best interest. Many dealers aren’t registered which means they operate illegally in trades outside a regulated exchange.”
“When are such transactions considered fraud rather than risky gambles by investors?” Lea asked.
“By definition, that distinction is a thin line. Buying gold and silver historically provides investors with safe, long-term investments. When losses are suffered as in the case of our client, it’s hard to determine how much of the loss is due to the fact the customer took a gamble and lost, and how much stems from a company’s sales tactics. The key is whether the customer was adequately informed in order to assess the risk and make a wise decision.”
“What about caveat emptor?” Maddy asked. “If a person is foolish enough to invest without knowing the basics of the business, it seems they get what they deserve.”
“Maddy has a point,” Lea said. “What do you always tell us, Dad? If a thing sounds too good to be true, it probably is.”
Warren stroked his chin. “While it’s true investors should shoulder some burden and need to be careful about who they deal with, predators shouldn’t be allowed to call themselves professionals. A more rea
sonable approach than buyer beware focuses on fair market practices.”
“What do you mean?”
“Basically, a consumer should expect to pay a fair price for goods or services without fear of being bamboozled by cunning and deceptive dealers.”
“Older people like Marge appear to be easy prey,” Lea observed.
Warren offered an explanation. “Sales pitches designed to make buyers angry or fearful are common in commodities trading. When put in a heightened emotional state, older people are more likely to fall for deceptive ads compared with younger people inclined to be distrustful.”
“Where did they get Marge’s name in the first place?” Maddy asked.
“People make money buying and selling information. Not only email addresses, but bank information, social security numbers, and mothers’ maiden names. Even security questions a person uses to access their accounts. All kinds of lists exchange hands among fraudsters.”
“Do victims have recourse?” Maddy asked, angrily.
“Most states employ deceptive trade practice acts to provide consumer protection against fraudulent representations. Unfortunately, most people are unaware of such laws or how to make use of them. Victims write their losses off as mistakes and forget about them, embarrassed to disclose them. I don’t want to see that happen to our client. I’m hoping we’ll find a way to restore her dignity, if not her savings.”
Maddy nodded. “We’re in, Dad. Right, Sis?”
“Absolutely,” Lea agreed. “Where should we begin?”
“I checked the investment company through my contact at the Commodities Commission, but there is no record of complaints.”
“Have you advised Marge to file a complaint?”
“Even if she does, the Commission will need proof to obtain a conviction. In the meantime, other people will be cheated.”
Maddy groaned. “The company deserves to be put out of business.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Warren said. “Shall we see what we can do to get that ball rolling?”
“What do you have in mind?” Lea asked.
“I think a visit to Toby Turner is in order.”
“He won’t respond favorably to being accused of cheating customers.”
“I agree. He would laugh me out of his office. No, I think this situation calls for an indirect approach.”