Hit and Run

by Rayna Morgan

  “In that case, I don’t believe you.”

  Morris stood and pointed toward the exit. “Let’s get some air.”

  Outside, Morris leaned against the building. “All right. I’ll come clean with you.”

  “It’s about time.”

  “You got this all wrong. I hired out to Kirk and Townsend as part of a plan to identify them as players in the drug ring.”

  “What was your plan?”

  “For starters, we wanted to find out if they were more involved than being users. Working security for them also gave me a way to stay in touch with Mario.”

  “What caused the operation to go sideways?”

  “Upset by what she saw at Townsend’s party, Cate followed Mario to Ensenada. She warned him to stop or their relationship was over.” He rubbed a hand across his forehead. “The fool broke. Told her he was undercover. Once she learned the truth, they planned to run off together.”

  “What happened next?”

  “He called from Chapala to tell me he was through. I would have to finish the case on my own because he and Cate were going to be married. When he returned, he would ask to be reassigned to another division as far from Vice as he could get. My only reason for going to Chapala was to discuss how he would finish his assignment. Now do you believe I didn’t kill anyone?”

  “There’s a way to convince me besides expecting me to rely on your word.”

  “I don’t have to prove myself one way or the other, but I’m interested enough to listen. Go ahead.”

  Warren outlined the detective’s proposed participation in Townsend’s poker game.

  “I guard those guys in my spare time,” Morris objected. “They don’t ask me to join their game of cards.”

  “I’ve arranged for you to be invited. We want you to draw out the guilty party to incriminate themself.”

  “That won’t be easy.”

  “Figure out a way. It’s time to put to good use your reputation as the department’s toughest interrogator.”

  Chapter 37

  Warren and Lea arrived at Townsend’s home ahead of the arranged time and were escorted to a room where they could view the proceedings.

  As they settled in to wait for the players, the host and a lean, dark-haired man approached.

  “Look who dropped by to deal our friendly game of cards,” Townsend said. “Don’t suppose you had anything to do with his timely arrival.”

  Without waiting for a response, he gave the young man instructions. “Cards and poker chips are in the game room. Get the table ready. Our guests will arrive momentarily.”

  As soon as Townsend left, Lea approached Mario. “I’m glad you came.”

  “Your message indicated I might clear myself by helping.”

  Warren gave him a rundown, telling him to watch and listen for anything signifying a player’s guilt.

  Mario departed, leaving the adjoining door far enough ajar to allow a narrow view of activity.

  “Do you still think he’s innocent?” Warren asked as he helped Lea adjust their camera.

  “At this point, I don’t know whose story to believe.”

  “What’s important is not the stories people tell, but inconsistencies in those stories. If tension mounts during the game, we may hear their alibis unravel.”

  “Hearing a confession would be even better.”

  • • •

  An hour after the game convened, Warren stood to stretch. He expressed his disappointment in the lack of results.

  “I may have underestimated these people,” he said. “Either they’re better liars than I believed—”

  “Or they’re telling the truth.”

  “It’s not over yet. I’m putting my money on Kirk getting nervous, especially when Mario mentions the tape as we instructed.”

  He held up a finger at the sound of the words they waited to hear.

  “I didn’t have a chance before the game started, Mario, to express my condolences on your girlfriend’s accident,” Morris said.

  “That’s rich, coming from a cop.” Mario’s voice was thick with contempt.

  “What do you mean?” Morris asked.

  “The ex-chief of police is calling Cate’s death a homicide. What’s worse, he and his snoopy daughter are using some recording they got their hands on to suggest I had something to do with it.”

  “I told you to clear the air with them,” Holly said.

  Mario fired back. “They had as much right to look at you as a suspect. You were the last person to see Cate alive. Maybe you were never the friend you claimed to be.”

  “How dare you!” Holly hissed.

  Morris intervened. “Calm down, Mario. Unless you’re accusing Holly, the last person to see Cate alive was her killer.”

  The tension in the room was palpable as the players shifted uneasily, losing interest in the game.

  The assemblyman’s voice was tinged with panic as he leaned toward Mario. “They talked to you about the tape, too?”

  “That makes three of us,” the developer added.

  “What do you intend to do about it, Ron?” Allen asked.

  “There’s not much I can do, but there’s no cause for concern. They’re only interested in finding the truth about what happened to Cate. Unless you caused her accident, you have nothing to worry about.”

  Kirk jumped up.

  “What are you implying?” he asked, angrily.

  Townsend raised his hand. “Calm down. You’re overreacting.”

  Kirk returned to his seat. “Have you forgotten I played poker with you the night of the accident?”

  “I was willing to protect you from your wife,” Townsend said. “But I won’t be willing to corroborate your alibi if it puts me in jeopardy.”

  “Stop acting benevolent,” Kirk said angrily. “You back my story to keep me indebted, using my indiscretions like chits in a poker game.”

  “Don’t pretend I’ve taken advantage of you. You’ve lined your pockets doing me favors.”

  Kirk jerked his head in Morris’ direction. “Watch what you’re saying.”

  “Don’t worry about him. He’s bought and paid for.”

  The others turned toward Mike, but the smile on his face gave nothing away.

  Kirk pointed at Holly. “What about her?”

  “I’ve wondered myself if our party woman has more going on than a catering business.” Townsend leveled his eyes on her. “But she’s discrete. No matter what she sees, she’s smart enough to let me take care of my business the same way I let her tend to hers.”

  Holly smiled maliciously as she looked around the table. “I should warn you all. In case any of you try to pin Cate’s murder on me, I have a copy of that recording.”

  Kirk stared hopelessly at Townsend. “What were you saying about the lady’s discretion? I told you—”

  Mario interrupted. “Wait a minute, Townsend. You’re saying you can’t back up Kirk’s story. That means he can’t alibi you either. Would you mind telling me where you were the night of the accident?”

  “Don’t question me, young man. Remember who you’re talking to.”

  “If you don’t mind,” Morris said. “We would all be interested to hear.”

  “If you must know,” Townsend said acidly, “I was taking care of a small emergency. A fire broke out in one of my buildings.”

  “If that’s a result of inadequate inspections due to my expediting your project through the process,” Kirk shouted, “I swear, I’ll—”

  “What will you do, Allen, complain to the authorities? Actually, I don’t believe there’s a person in this room who can complain about anything. Least of all, Cate Palmer’s accident. Now, shall we return to our card game?”

  Kirk removed a jacket from the back of his chair and stood up. “The games you play have lost their appeal, Ron. From now on, count me out.”

  Townsend laughed. “You’re easily replaced, assemblyman. Just don’t come crying to me to finance your campaign when the ne
xt election rolls around.”

  Kirk flung his chips across the table and stomped out.

  Townsend turned to Morris. “How about you, Mike? Looks like Holly has taken most of our chips. Are you ready to win them back?”

  “I’ll have to suffer my loss and leave. I’ve got a late night security job.”

  Holly raked in the stack of chips in front of her. “Looks like I’m the only winner at the table.”

  Townsend passed a bill of large denomination to Mario. “Take this for dealing our game.”

  “What’s the reason for the big tip?”

  “I want to make sure you and I are still good.”

  “Is there any reason we shouldn’t be?” Mario asked.

  Townsend wrapped an arm around Mario. “None at all.”

  Mario brushed Ron’s hand from his shoulder. “If I find out you’re responsible for Cate’s death…”

  “Walk the lady to her car,” Townsend ordered. “We’ve had enough games for one night.”

  • • •

  Warren and Lea found their own way out. They stopped to confer before getting in separate cars.

  “No one broke as you hoped, Dad. At least Townsend and Kirk ruined each other’s alibi.”

  “It won’t help. As reluctant as they are to air their activities, they can furnish proof if required.”

  Lea opened the door of her car and turned to face her father. “I was shocked to hear Holly has a duplicate of Cate’s tape.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Warren said. “That little surprise weakens our use of the recording as a weapon against the others.”

  She dropped her head. “After all that, we’re back to square one.”

  Warren offered encouragement. “Who knows? Maybe the added pressure of a second tape will play in our favor.”

  Lea’s body sagged against her car. “If I were on top of my game like Holly playing cards tonight, we might have found Cate’s murderer.”

  Warren lifted her chin. “Don’t blame yourself. It happens to the best of us, not being able to prove a case. As for being off your game, you’re used to working with your sister and the dogs. You couldn’t have expected the same results. Regardless of the outcome, I enjoyed teaming up with you.”

  Lea perked up. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”

  “What do you say we stop for a nightcap?” Warren suggested. “It will take our minds off the case before we go home to your mother.”

  “Good idea. I know a bartender who makes the best martini in town.”

  Chapter 38

  The only people in the bar when they arrived at the Wheelhouse were two people engrossed in conversation. Seeing the couple made Lea realize how much she missed Paul.

  She called him.

  “How is the world’s best detective?” he asked.

  “You’re referring to someone other than me.”

  “Oh, oh. Someone sounds discouraged. Is the case not going well?”

  “There is no case. We may have been on the wrong track the entire time. We’ll never know. All our efforts have resulted in a dead end.”

  “Sorry, hon. I know you and your father gave it your best which is what counts.”

  “That sounds like the usual speech I give Jon.”

  They laughed. Paul always lightened her mood.

  “Why don’t you and Jon come to San Diego Friday? I’ll make up for last week’s postponement by taking you to a baseball game. At least, we can salvage something from my trip.”

  “You’ve got a deal if you promise your mother will cook for us.”

  Lea expressed her surprise. “You usually avoid her cooking like the plague.”

  “The only thing that makes Jon appreciate my efforts in the kitchen is comparing it to your mother’s cooking.”

  “That’s unfair. You stick to pancakes and hamburgers. Mom experiments with exotic dishes neither of you appreciates.”

  “I admit to being a man of simple tastes. I prefer pizza over haute cuisine.”

  She laughed again. “See you soon. Don’t forget to bring the dogs. I miss them, too.”

  “Be honest about who you miss more,” he joked. “Me or the dogs?”

  “That’s a loaded question I don’t intend to answer.”

  “To remind you of what you’re missing, I’ll send a picture of Spirit’s latest episode digging up the planter.”

  Lea ended the call when Tim brought their drinks.

  Turning to her father, she tapped her glass against his. “To best efforts.”

  She sipped her martini and stared at the beverage reflectively. “What do you think was the motive in this case, love or greed?”

  “Drug money is a factor, but is it the motive for murder? I’m not sure.”

  “When I had doubts about Holly,” Lea said, “the whole thing appeared to be a classic example of a love triangle.”

  Warren ate the olive from his martini and looked at her. “Let’s consider jealousy as a motive. Assume Mario had a relationship with Holly before, or even after, he met Cate. He was torn between two strikingly different women. One, lovable and outgoing. The other, alluring but potentially hazardous.”

  Lea nodded. “A choice between Holly with whom he shared a seamier past and Cate, the perfect partner to start a family. Once he decided on Cate, he had no choice but to break away from illegal activities and people associated with his past, including Holly.”

  “Effectively sealing the fate of the woman he loved,” Warren said.

  “That conclusion makes Cate’s death the tragic result of two women in love with the same man.”

  “It can never be proved without a confession. Holly is unlikely to change her story.”

  He turned away to watch a ball game on the TV above the bar.

  Lea stared sightlessly out the window. She couldn’t escape a feeling she possessed a vital piece of information which could solve the case.

  Had she misinterpreted a clue?

  Which lead had she neglected to follow?

  What significant detail had been overlooked?

  Halfheartedly, she opened the picture from Paul. It showed a hole in the planter surrounded by mounds of soil and scattered flowers. Spirit stood to one side, his paws and nose covered with dirt.

  She chuckled and flipped idly through recent snapshots.

  One picture caught her attention.

  She slapped the bar. “Proof against Holly won’t be found because it doesn’t exist.”

  Startled, Warren asked, “What are you talking about?”

  “We’re guilty of a mistake similar to the one Mike made at the outset.”

  “Morris makes a lot of mistakes,” Warren said. “Which one are you referring to?”

  “The police initially assumed accidental death. Now we're erroneously assuming two women in love with the same man.”

  “How do we err in that assumption?”

  “Ask yourself. Is this a case of two women in love with the same man, or three?”

  Before her father could respond, Lea called Ricardo.

  “The fare you picked up at the airport the day of Mario’s disappearance.”

  “I already told you. The woman whose picture you sent was not my fare.”

  “I know. I’m sending another picture.”

  After transmitting the picture of Jason and the dealer in the casino, she held her breath waiting for his reply.

  “That’s her.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “I never forget the face of a pretty woman.”

  She hung up and grabbed her purse. “I’m leaving, Dad.”

  “Where are you going?” he yelled, as she waved goodbye to Tim.

  “I’ll call you.”

  • • •

  She raced to the parking lot. Inside the car, she caught her breath as she pressed the number for the terminal.

  “What time does the cruise ship arrive from Ensenada?” she asked.

  “That vessel is unloading now. If you’re picking up a passenger,
you should—”

  She disconnected and called her father.

  “Hurry, Dad. People on the ship are disembarking. We’ve got to intercept someone on that cruise. I’m going to board as soon as I get to the terminal. Meet me in the casino.”

  “What’s this all about?” he demanded.

  She presented her ticket at the booth. “I don’t have time to explain. You’ll have to trust me.”

  “Don’t do anything rash,” he grumbled.

  “One other thing,” she said, ignoring his warning.

  “What’s that?”

  “Call Mike Morris and tell him to meet us.”

  “What reason should I give?”

  “We’re paving his way back to homicide by solving this case for him.”

  She sped away from the parking lot.

  Chapter 39

  Lea slowed as she passed the section of the terminal lot designated as employee parking. Spotting a vehicle with a dented front fender, she asked the guard who the car belonged to.

  “One of the women who works on the cruise ship,” he said, confirming her suspicion.

  She parked hastily and ran across the ramp where she grabbed the first person wearing a shirt with the ship’s logo.

  “Have staff members disembarked?” she asked.

  “Some have. The ones still on board are in the casino having a party for one of the employees.”

  By the time she hurried through the arcade into the gambling room, only a few people stood over a table with the remains of a frosted cake and a pitcher with a small amount of lime-colored liquid.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. One of those people was the woman she came to see.

  “Hi, Anita,” she said, approaching the table. “Who is the bash for?”

  “It’s my going away party.” Her demeanor gave little away other than a hint of concern. “This was my last cruise.”

  “I’m leaving, Anita,” the last crew member called as he left the room. “Best of luck. Stay in touch.”

  A smile returned to her face. “Sure thing, Duane. Take care of yourself.”

  She busied herself cleaning up until the room was deserted except for two.