One Deadly Sister

by Rod Hoisington

  “It’s dangerous, and you could get yourself killed. You know, you won’t fool Chip and you could lose him over this. He hates people who pick up a gun to settle a score. He’s says they’re not trustworthy. He’s likely to write you off in a hurry.”

  “Linda?”

  “You’re a dangerous woman, you know it? Okay, you could get one fast in Florida anyway. But I have to meet with you first and discuss it. And I must be certain that you’re off all medications."

  Sandy started forming a vague plan. She’d lure Pirro into the open. That part would be easy. He’d underestimate her just like everyone else. He’d macho around, showing off, and she’d let him strut for a minute. Then, she’d blow him away. He’d die with a very surprised look on his face. She’d do it for Elena and God knows how many other women—past and future.

  After the evening meal, and more medication, she felt sleepy. Cloudy thoughts swirled around in her mind. There in her drowsy fog she saw herself going after Pirro. He was standing there beside his huge vehicle. She saw herself taking out the gun and slipping the safety off. Then he got blurry and disappeared. She was drifting and floating. Looking down, she could see the blurry body of a tall, skinny man wearing a baseball cap. He was lying face down in a pond filled with blood, his body jerking with spastic movements in spite of the iron stake piercing his chest and sticking up out of his back.

  It was late when she awoke. Dark outside, lights were low, and the hospital was quiet. She became aware that her legs felt tingly as though they were falling asleep. She sat up in bed and rubbed them. She gradually began to realize that she could feel the rubbing. A slight feeling but it was there, definitely tingling and somewhat stinging. She buzzed for the nurse. When the nurse came in, Sandy had tears on her cheeks. She was laughing and wiggling her toes. How delightful to wiggle your toes and feel the pull of muscle.

  Chapter 27

  The next morning Goddard stopped at his desk to pick up his messages and review the overnight Incident Report. A new item was listed: Accident-Fatal. In the space for victim: Abelando Pirro—a name Goddard had already memorized. He asked to see the Police Report. His aide said it was on the chief’s desk.

  “Chief, we’ve got an Abelando Pirro dead last night. Can I see the report?”

  “Only have the prelim, happened late. He fell from a condo balcony over on Banyon. They found his body impaled on the iron fence surrounding the pool. Draped over a sharp metal picket like a dead fish on a hook. M.E. said he probably lived for hours and just bled to death. Hellava way to go. Another foot or so out and he’d just gotten wet in the pool and be sobering up this morning. Had been drinking, before he fell. Why, do you know something about it?”

  “I can tell you right now, it was murder.”

  “How do you know? You haven’t even seen the report.”

  “He didn’t fall, he was pushed, it’s murder.” Goddard started flipping through his notes. “Who’s getting it?”

  “Won’t be you, your hands are full.”

  “It’s connected, Chief,” he pleaded, “part of my case. That’s the address for Norma Martin. He’s the bad guy who ran Sandy Reid off the road two nights ago. That’s attempted murder. I was searching for him.”

  “This Pirro death happened on Sergeant Huress’ watch,” the chief said. “He investigated last night. Said it was a couple of drunken Cuban-Americans. Look at this, he got a nice statement from the girlfriend.”

  “Of course it’s an absolutely perfect statement. She made it up.”

  “Huress did okay. I’m keeping him on it.”

  “He’s not a detective, not qualified. Don’t do this to me, Chief. This could be important. Damn. At least now I can stop looking for him.”

  Goddard read the report, then stepped outside the chief’s office and called Sandy. “How do you feel this morning?”

  “The doctor said my temporary leg numbness was stress and strain related. He had some big name for it. I’m being released this morning.”

  “Great, I’m very happy for you. And you can relax, Pirro won’t bother you again.”

  “You caught him already? That was fast. But I didn’t want him caught. I wanted him dead. Well, don’t put him in with my brother.”

  “He is dead, Sandy. Found below Elena Duarte’s window. She claims it was an accident. Want to hear her statement?”

  “I’m listening.”

  Chip started reading, …we were such good friends. We had quite a few drinks and were making out on the couch, then we danced a little. We were waiting for my mother to come over after the restaurant closed. Then he said he wanted to make Mentiritas, he just had to have Mentiritas. I told him I thought I was out of rum. I said I’d look again. When I came back out of the kitchen, he was gone. I assumed he had gone out to get the rum. That upset me terribly because he was in no condition to drive. I was worried about him. I sat down and turned on the TV. Then I heard the sirens and saw all of the lights outside.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. You’ll never know just how much trouble she saved me. Give her a medal. She made up that statement. She hated him. Apparently, the story she told me about Pirro was true.” Sandy laughed. “She danced him right off the balcony. She probably pretended he was getting her hot and then pushed the bastard over the railing straight down to hell. Applause please. I hope he died a slow death. I’ll bet she turned up the TV to not hear his moaning down there.”

  “I don’t know about you. It’s a crime and if it were my case, I’d go after her for murder.”

  “Wait a minute, when did this happen, last night? Geez Louise! Chip, it was in my dream. She did it for me. Elena heard about my accident and knew immediately who ran me off the road. Pirro might even have bragged about it. Twenty-four hours later, he’s dead. Chip, she killed him for me.”

  “That’s a stretch. Maybe Pirro killed Towson, and to cover it up, Elena was told by the family to get rid of him.”

  “I doubt that. He was a big danger to her and her mother. The calculating little accountant from Tampa figured out a slick way to write him off. I’ll just keep thinking she had me and some other women in mind.”

  “I still want to see you again before you leave.”

  “Chip, I’ve decided not to go—at least, not right away.”

  “What? Oh, you’re not. You’re not leaving. Oh, that’s good.”

  “We should meet for coffee.”

  Sandy was discharged mid-morning. Sergeant Lewis picked her up at the emergency entrance in a blue and white and drove her to the police impound lot. He explained he should go along to be sure she had no trouble getting Ray’s car released.

  “Now that you’re okay I can tell you how close you came. Chip radioed for an ambulance as soon as you told him you were being chased. He didn't wait to decide anything. That ambulance was screaming down that back road before you even hit the ditch. Those few extra minutes saved you. Your vehicle was upside down, the top half submerged in water. Your head was actually under mud. We don’t understand how it was possible for him to shift your car enough to get that seatbelt undone while he was sinking in mud like quicksand.”

  “He told me he had some difficulty getting my seatbelt undone.”

  “Yes, the difficulty was he had to lift the car. The tow truck driver didn’t see how it could be done.”

  Sergeant Lewis stopped his police vehicle at the impound office and turned to her. “I wanted you to know, a lot of guys in the department are coming down hard on Huress for attacking you in his pickup. He blames you for bringing charges, the formal complaint now in his file, and putting it in the newspaper. His wife certainly believed you. She and the kids went to stay with her mother in Virginia. He’s the type to take revenge on you, Sandy.”

  “Thanks, Sarge, that was in the back of my mind. I’ll be careful.”

  “He never gives up on a grudge. He’ll try to get back at anyone who’s ever caused him a problem. He knows who he’s up against now. He’ll be ready for you next time and come
at you unexpectedly.”

  She signed for Ray's vehicle in the pound office and they walked together to find it. “Here it is.” Lewis compared the number on the windshield to the number on the key.

  “This can’t be it,” she said, “this is a stupid Ford. Not just a stupid Ford, it’s green! I can’t drive around in a stupid green Ford?”

  He laughed. “You could wear a disguise.”

  “Yeah, a clown costume.” She got in and slammed the car door shut. The glove compartment flopped open. She reached over and banged it shut hard, and the compartment door broke completely off and fell. She crossed her fingers and turned the key. After three heart-stopping cranks, the car reluctantly groaned to life, more or less. She thanked the Sergeant and blew him a kiss.

  Her phone buzzed. It was attorney Kagan. “Miss Reid, glad you’re okay. I know you’re close to that reporter, Linda Call. Did you know the police picked her up and brought her to the station? She was seen in the interrogation room with Goddard.”

  “So what? She’s probably interviewing him.”

  “Definitely the other way around. They brought her in for questioning. They tested her gun. She was at the murder scene.”

  “I know she was there with CSI, she told me.”

  “No, earlier that day, she was up there with Towson.”

  “Oh great, she told me only that she talked to him that day. She didn’t say it like they were face to face.” Sandy thought about other possible lies. It gets worse. I haven’t had a chance to brief you, Jerry. Linda Call isn’t all she seems. She’s Cuban-American and from Tampa. Why bother to lie about that?”

  “If she’s connected to the family, then they might have been working against us all along. They would want your brother convicted to cover up whatever is going on.”

  “I know, Linda could be a threat, but we could really use her help. If she’s involved then there goes the cooperation with the paper. I’m going to see her now.”

  “You need help sooner than you think. I was just informed that your brother is scheduled for transfer out to the county jail tomorrow. Good luck, Miss Reid, and keep your head down.”

  Chapter 28

  Sandy hated the situation. She had to know if Linda was with her or against her. She needed Linda with her. Having the situation in doubt was impossible. Twenty-four hours were left before Raymond would go from bad to worse.

  She needed a shrewd angle fast. Perhaps she could persuade Linda to get some sort of controversial editorial printed that would upset things and delay the transfer. But maybe Linda wouldn’t cooperate. Maybe Linda had something else in mind.

  When Sandy entered the newsroom of the Park Beach newspaper Linda gave her a happy wave. “Hi Sugar, look at this." She pointed to her monitor. “My interview with old Mrs. Crawford.”

  “Anything good?”

  “She saw a woman leaving the building a little after five that day, but not up close. Crawford was down the block walking her dog.”

  “She recognize the woman?”

  “She assumed it was ‘that Spanish lady’ because she recognized the scarf. They had met weeks earlier in the elevator and they had talked about the scarf. Mrs. Crawford remembered the scarf because it had red and blue triangles just like the pattern on a tablecloth she received as a wedding present sixty years ago.”

  Sandy smiled. “Let me guess, and she knew it was five because she always walks the dog after her favorite TV show is over. Also, she didn’t hear any shots because she’s deaf.”

  “Corny but correct. If the world was inhabited with little old ladies, we’d all have an easier time of it.”

  “Was the woman wearing the scarf on her head?”

  “You mean like hiding her face, I just assumed that. Also, she doesn’t remember what else the woman was wearing. You look different, Sandy. What’s wrong, this whole business getting to you?”

  “Linda, you acted surprised when I mentioned Mrs. Crawford to you the other day, but you must have been aware of her. There are only two apartments on that floor. You’ve been to Towson’s apartment several times.”

  “You’re right, a cop at the scene said there was a witness who described the scarf, and I didn’t think about Mrs. Crawford. But yes, I knew Towson from over the years. Sandy, you’re using an accusatory tone and I think I know why. I must confess I did something very dumb.”

  “I don’t want to hear this.”

  “No, not that bad. Goddard hauled me in because they found my prints on a wine glass found on Towson’s nightstand.”

  “Geez, how does one explain one’s prints at a murder scene?”

  “In the middle of the afternoon that day, I went up there and interviewed Towson. I had a glass of wine with him in the study. After we talked, I picked up the glasses and put them in the kitchen by the sink. I left and forgot all about it.”

  Clever, very clever, Sandy thought. But why try to hide it if that’s what actually happened? “So, how did the glasses find their way onto the nightstands?”

  Linda shrugged, she didn’t know.

  “You didn’t think having wine with him was important enough to tell the police?”

  “No, I didn’t. Why would I think it was significant to have a glass of wine with him in the study? Why on earth would I think someone would move my dirty glass from the kitchen to the bedroom?”

  “Actually, the fact you put your dirty glass in the kitchen proves my theory of the bedroom scene being staged. The clever killer saw the dirty glasses and realized that someone’s prints must be on them, and placed them in the bedroom.”

  “This is all news to me. I didn’t even know about wine glasses being found on the night stands.”

  “Here goes, showdown time. Was she with Sandy or against her? “Linda, have you been following me?”

  “No, just that one night when Huress was stalking you. What makes you say that?”

  “I have trouble believing you parked outside my apartment for two hours for investigative reporting reasons. Was that the truth?”

  Linda waited some time before answering, “God, I feel like I’m back in high school right now. The truth is I kind of got fixated on you.”

  “Fixated?”

  “Oh, God this is terrible. Sandy, the truth is you’ve just blown me away.” She barely got the words out. She turned and took a deep breath. Her eyes were glistening when she looked back.

  Sandy said nothing.

  “So now you know. I couldn’t believe it when you first walked in here. You have that big-city look and style. This is a small seaside town, there’s nothing like you between Atlanta and Palm Beach.” She straightened and made an embarrassed laugh. “I have to stop telling you this stuff because if I go on, I’ll scare the hell out of you, and you’ll run out of here screaming.”

  “This is upsetting, Linda.”

  “The reason I parked outside your apartment for two hours is simple, I did it so I could be close to you. I sat staring up at your window imagining what you were doing.” She had to pause. “I never expected to have a chance…”

  Linda was trembling. Sandy reached over and patted her arm. “It’s okay you don’t have to go on. Let’s leave it right there.”

  “I’m over it now, I’m all better.” Linda laughed.

  Sandy could see that she wasn’t. Was her emotional outburst award-winning or sincere? Sandy wanted to think sincere, but she’d been wrong before. Perhaps, this was the time to get things straight. “Linda, you told me you were from Georgia.”

  Linda’s head snapped up. She stared hard at Sandy.

  “Please tell me it’s not important, Linda. Tell me you’re not hiding anything. Tell me you decided to anglicize your name and lie about Georgia just for the hell of it.”

  “I just told you how strongly I feel about you, Sandy. I thought we were friends. What’s with the third degree? You’re looking at me suspiciously. What are you accusing me of? You think I’m in some Cuban gang or something? I can’t handle all this!” She got u
p and walked to the window.

  Sandy followed her. “I just mentioned Georgia. I didn’t say anything about Cubans. Boy, you’re really touchy about something. Calm down Linda. You know you did tell me you were from Georgia.”

  Linda was steamed. Her voice shook, “My father’s from Georgia, he’s up there now, okay? Mom’s Cuban and lives in Tampa. So, I’m half Cuban, okay?” Then angrily, “Does that bother you, Sugar?”

  Sandy jerked backward and her mouth dropped open. “Linda! You just spat out ‘Sugar’ like it was the ugliest word in the world.” She put her hands to her face, turned and hurried toward the stairway.

  Linda hesitated for only a moment and then ran after her. “I’m sorry!” She caught her at the top of the stairs and turned her around. “I’m sorry, Sandy. We’re still getting to know each other.” Linda reached out and took Sandy’s hands.

  “Be fair, Linda, you put yourself in the middle of all this. I didn’t accuse you of anything. We all know Tampa Cuban-Americans are involved in this. Perhaps innocently, but the questions are there whether we like it or not.”

  “I know. I’m hyper about it. Let’s go back to my desk and talk.”

  “Half of Florida is Cuban-American. You can’t be hyper-sensitive about that.”

  “I just thought it would be nice to be a Georgia peach, but that’s not going to happen either.”

  “But you’re lovely, just the way you are.”

  “You don’t understand, I want to meet someone. Not everyone feels the way you do.”

  Sandy could see it now; she had underestimated Linda’s loneliness. Here was distress beyond what she had imagined. Linda would be willing to change her name and move a thousand miles, a thousand times, if she thought it would bring her the person she wanted. “Miss Right is out there, Linda, and could show up tomorrow.”

  “Sure.” Linda gave her a tolerant look. “Let’s get off it.”

  “And you made up what you told me about your past; the part about a girlfriend, her boyfriend, a dead dog and a fire?”