Murder After Midnight

by Dianne Harman

  The other man spoke up. “There are no dues or fees for membership in Gamblers Anonymous. We are self-supporting through our own contributions. GA is not allied with any sect, denomination, politics, organization, or institution. It doesn’t wish to engage in any controversy, and it neither endorses nor opposes any cause. Our primary purpose is to stop gambling and to help other compulsive gamblers do the same. I’ve been in your shoes Mickey. GA helped me, and it can help you too.”

  “I doubt if you were as bad as I am,” Mickey muttered. “Gambling is the only thing I’ve cared about for a long time. My relationship with my wife, my kids, my performance at work—it all became secondary while I craved the next opportunity to empty my bank account.”

  “Believe me, Mickey, I’ve been in the same boat. Most of us have been unwilling to admit we had a problem with gambling until it’s too late. No one likes to think they’re different from other people.”

  Mickey’s voice cracked. “If you mean, pretending like I had it all under control, when the opposite was true, then yeah, I was that guy.”

  “That’s the reason it’s not surprising that our gambling has been characterized by countless vain attempts to prove we could gamble like other people,” the second man said.

  After listening to the conversation coming from inside the room, DeeDee decided he must be some sort of GA counsellor or sponsor. “The idea that somehow, some day, we can control our gambling is the great obsession of every compulsive gambler.”

  When she heard the sound of a chair being pushed back, DeeDee tried to look absorbed in the Candy Crush game on her cell phone. If she left now, it might alert the men that she’d overheard their conversation, so she stayed put and decided she’d deal with it when they walked out. She kept her head down when the door swung open and both men stepped into the narrow hallway.

  “Why don’t I pick you up this evening and take you to a meeting?” the man asked Mickey.

  DeeDee sneaked a peek at the man who was talking. He was older than he sounded, with a gray beard, and he was holding a walking cane.

  “I appreciate it, Aaron,” Mickey said, shaking his hand. “I’ll see you later.”

  DeeDee stood up, so Aaron could walk past her without bumping into her knees.

  “DeeDee, it’s good to see you,” Mickey said, and she smiled at him. He was unshaven, his dark wavy hair unkempt, and his expression was as crumpled as his suit. “Please, come into my office,” he said. When she was in his office, he gestured towards a leather chair facing his desk and said, “Have a seat.”

  Mickey walked over to his desk and sat down. He smiled at her sadly. “I assume you overheard the conversation between Aaron and me, and I guess it really doesn’t matter now. As he explained to me, part of the recovery for my gambling problem will be to admit I have an addiction to it, which I do. I guess you’re the first person I’ve told. I have to say, in a strange way, it’s a great relief.”

  DeeDee’s heart went out to him. The man looked bereft, broken, and the way his mouth was tightly set, made her think he was desperately trying to control his emotions. “Mr. Donnelly,” she began, “l didn’t listen on purpose. Your receptionist told me to take a seat in the hallway outside your office, and that your meeting would be over very soon. I’m sorry if it’s caused you any discomfort.”

  “No,” Mickey said, putting his head in his hands. It was a few moments before he looked up again, his eyes wet. “It’s long overdue. As a matter of fact, Dana and I had decided to start our lives over. That was the reason for the New Year’s Eve party. It was a celebration of my giving up gambling and her walking away from a relationship she’d had for several years, probably as a result of my behavior. I don’t blame her for it, because I have to admit that my gambling addiction took over pretty much every aspect of my life. It’s not a pretty story, but I guess I have to start somewhere.” He gulped back a sob. “I can’t believe she’s gone. I keep telling myself if I’d stopped gambling earlier, this never would have happened.”

  DeeDee reached in her purse for a packet of Kleenex, and passed them across the desk. “Mr. Donnelly, I admire you for what you’re doing. If you want to talk about it, I’d be happy to listen, but I’ll also understand if you don’t.”

  Mickey took a Kleenex from the packet and rubbed his eyes. “Actually DeeDee, it’s probably time I did talk about it. You see, about twenty years ago, I got interested in playing poker. There was no online poker then, and only very crude poker software. I got Doyle Brunson's bible on how to successfully play the game and studied it non-stop. I played every chance I could, including at casinos, and in some serious home poker games. Overall, I did fairly well. I ended up about $15,000 ahead for my best year and never showed an annual loss.”

  DeeDee listened to him, fascinated by what he was saying. Twenty years was a long time, and she wondered when things had started going wrong. It looked like Mickey, who was taking a sip of water from the glass beside him, was about to tell her.

  “Then, Chris Moneymaker won the World Series of Poker, and the poker boom exploded. Internet poker became a big business, and I got hooked. I spent hours every day playing online. In the last few years, I’ve lost a ton of money. I was pretty sure at some point I’d have to sell our house just to cover my losses. Dana and I talked about it and agreed that would probably be the best decision. We decided we were going to downsize. That was another reason for the party. It was going to be the last time we’d entertain at the house. Guess that was true.”

  “I’m sorry,” DeeDee murmured.

  “I can’t believe I let my addiction become more important than Dana.” Mickey set the glass back down on his desk with a thump. “If it weren’t for my gambling and our decision to sell the house, we never would have had the party, and she’d still be alive. It was all my fault, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself. What I can’t figure out is why someone would want to murder her. She was the darling of Seattle. Everyone loved her.”

  DeeDee leaned across the desk. “Mr. Donnelly, as you know, I was at the party, and I’ve been trying to think of anything that might help the police with their investigation. Do you have any idea who might have done it?”

  “I’ve thought of nothing else for the last day and a half,” Mickey said, shaking his head, “and no one comes to mind. Sure, she had run-ins a couple of times with people. I mean, when you’re in the spotlight and on camera all the time, you’re bound to have them.”

  “Can you think of anyone who might have had a grudge against her?” DeeDee searched Mickey’s face for any sign of guilt. As far as she could tell, he wasn’t hiding anything. He tilted his head while he thought for a few seconds. “The only two people that come to mind are Sonia McNulty and Jerry McGee. Dana was one of those people who had the ability to defuse problems before they blew up. Sonia wanted her job, but Dana was the one who was responsible for putting a word in for Sonia at a television station for a position in Portland doing exactly what Dana did. Dana said she was confident they were about to make Sonia an offer, since her contract was coming up for renewal. Now I don’t know what will happen.”

  “You mentioned Jerry McGee,” DeeDee said, spotting Al walking Balto on the other side of the street through the window located behind Mickey. Al was on the phone, Balto matching him stride for stride. “I remember something about Jerry McGee walking off the set when Dana was interviewing him. Whatever happened with that?”

  Mickey grimaced. “That was a messy situation. Dana apologized profusely to him for revealing his background. She honestly thought his fans would appreciate knowing where he’d come from, the way he’d made it big even with those obstacles in his past. She thought she was doing him a favor by revealing it. Initially, Jerry didn’t think so, but after some time he agreed with her. He told her he’d thought about it and realized she was right, and that he’d forgiven her. That was one of the reasons he was at the party. It was kind of a public acknowledgment they’d made up.”

  “I see,”
DeeDee said. “Mr. Donnelly, I’ve been involved in helping solve a couple of murders recently. If you don’t mind, I’d like to see if I can find out anything that might help solve the mystery of who murdered Dana. I really liked her, and along with everyone else in Seattle, I feel sick and saddened by what happened. Is there anyone else you can think of?”

  “No. Dana knew a lot of people. You’ll probably hear some recent gossip about Dana and a well-known local businessman and quite frankly, it was true. The thing is, Dana loved to court the press when it came to celebrities she wasn’t involved with, but that was a cover for the relationship she was really having. My gambling addiction gave her a very good reason for having a relationship outside the marriage, and I believe she cared for this man more than she admitted to me. She told me when she’d ended the relationship the man had been devastated, but knowing the person in question, I don’t think he would hurt her. He adored her.”

  DeeDee nodded, certain that Mickey was referring to Dino Argyros. She knew Al would want to hear Mickey’s comments regarding Dino. She could see Al outside, and he appeared to have ended his telephone call. From what she could see, he was having an earnest conversation with Balto .

  Mickey looked at his watch. “I have another appointment. Let me pay you the rest of your fee.” He opened his drawer and took out a checkbook. “And thanks for listening to me, DeeDee. I guess I’ll have to get used to admitting to people I have a gambling addiction, despite the stigma that comes with it. I need to do it to honor my promise to Dana. I think she would find it very appropriate.”

  As Mickey started to write the check, DeeDee spoke out. “Mr. Donnelly, your wife paid me plenty already. She was very generous. If you don’t mind, I’d feel a lot better if we left it at that.”

  Mickey looked up in surprise. “Thanks, but no, I don’t want to do that. We had a deal, and you earned it. I insist.” He scrawled his signature on the bottom of the check, tore it out of the checkbook, and handed it across the desk to DeeDee, who pushed it away.

  She stood up with a smile, and shook his hand. “Please, Mr. Donnelly, I’d be much happier if you use the check to make a donation to GA. I wish you well on your journey.”

  She saw Al looking in the window, and nodded to him that her appointment was over. By the time she opened the front door of the building, Al and Balto were in front of it, waiting in the car with the engine running.

  “Sounds like Dana and Dino had a real thing going,” Al said on the drive back to the house, after DeeDee told him about her conversation with Mickey. “I called Dino and arranged to see him later this afternoon, and I also spoke to Dom Langello. He was Vinny’s attorney, and he’s also Dino’s. Dom said the last time they spoke Dino was pretty depressed, and Dana was the reason why.”

  “Wasn’t that breaking a client confidence?” DeeDee asked. She was surprised at a lawyer talking about a client. She’d always heard about the lawyer-client confidentiality.

  “Ain’t no secret Dino and Dana were havin’ an affair,” Al said, “so not at all. Dino told Dom that Dana had called the whole thing off, and he was sure she meant it. ”

  “Oh,” DeeDee said. “Mickey told me he thought Dana cared a lot for Dino. I wonder why Dino and Dana didn’t make a go of it, since it looks like both of them were in unhappy marriages.”

  “Not so simple,” Al said, turning the SUV into DeeDee’s driveway. “I wondered the same thing myself, and mentioned it to Dom. Accordin’ to him, those two runnin’ off into the sunset together was never an option. Maybe Dana would have left Mickey, but Dino had to stay married to Gia because of his father-in-law. It’s another open secret that their marriage was a business deal. If Dino ever left her, he woulda been kicked out of the business with nothin’.”

  Al got out of the car and went around to the passenger side and opened DeeDee’s door. “How about a quick cup of coffee before I take ya’ to the nail salon? We ain’t got much time before we gotta catch the ferry.”

  As soon as he heard Al say the word “ferry,” Balto started barking and jumping around in the back seat. Al stared at him in surprise. “Is he all right?” he asked DeeDee, opening the door for Balto, who ignored him and settled back down in the seat.

  “You mentioned the ‘F’ word,” DeeDee laughed. “I forgot to tell you about that. Looks like Balto’s coming with us to Seattle, if that’s okay,” she said as she turned toward the house.

  Al reached inside the car to ruffle Balto’s furry coat. “Fine by me. We’ll be back soon, buddy.” He left the car window open, and followed DeeDee inside.

  CHAPTER 13

  On the ferry ride to Seattle, DeeDee watched Al’s interaction with Balto on the passenger deck. Whenever Balto was on the ferry, he typically leaped around and tried to stick his head through the railings. DeeDee was glad to see that Al had him under tight control. Usually, by the end of the crossing DeeDee was exhausted trying to prevent Balto from ending up in Puget Sound. Today, however, Balto was standing calmly next to Al, who was several steps back from the railing. DeeDee sensed Al was uncomfortable on the deck of the ferry. He was uncommonly quiet, and the crossing passed in a pleasant silence. DeeDee was lost in her own thoughts about Jake, thinking back to the many romantic moments they’d shared viewing the scenery on the picturesque trip.

  “I’m not sure how you managed to calm Balto down today,” DeeDee said, when they were back in the SUV on the way to the nail salon. “I’ve never seen him so subdued on the ferry ride, ever. Most of the time he goes nuts with excitement.”

  Al adjusted his sunglasses. “Think he mighta guessed ol’ Al ain’t got his sea legs. Clever boy, aren’tcha, Balto?”

  DeeDee turned to where Balto was sitting sedately in the back seat. She marveled, not for the first time, at the husky’s sensitivity to human feelings, and was proud of him for helping Al through what seemed to have been a difficult time for him .

  Al weaved the car through the traffic in downtown Seattle and eventually stopped in front of Nails by Nikki located just off Pioneer Square. The streets were busy enough for DeeDee to feel safe without Al beside her. “You don’t need to come in,” she said. “There are plenty of people around, and I should be fine by myself.”

  A look of relief passed across Al’s face. “Maybe yer’ right. We probably wouldn’t fit in, anyway. I guess me n’ Balto don’t really look like mani-pedi kinda guys, do we, Balto?”

  DeeDee suppressed a giggle at the thought of Al and Balto having their nails done. “You know, Al, I wouldn’t put it past you to do just that, but I’m glad you’ve decided not to today. You guys go and have fun.”

  “We’re stickin’ close by, don’tcha worry ‘bout that,” Al said, as DeeDee climbed out of the SUV. She’d no sooner gotten out of the car than Balto had jumped into the front seat from the back seat and replaced her, sitting next to Al. “Tell ya’ what,” he went on, “I got somethin’ to pick up near here, then how ‘bout me ’n Balto wait fer ya’ across the street at Starbucks? Reckon if we get an outside table, I should have a direct line of vision into Nikki’s place.”

  “Sure,” DeeDee said, wondering what Al needed to collect. She didn’t have much time to spend thinking about it, because as soon as she stepped into Nails by Nikki, she was transported into another world.

  Closing the door to the hustle and bustle of the downtown streets outside, she found herself in a tranquil place of relaxation with soothing music, soft lighting, and a muted cream-colored modern decor. It reminded DeeDee of an upscale spa. She’d been expecting something along the lines of the last nail place she’d visited in a mall. Unfortunately, that had been quite a while ago, and her nails and hands were long overdue for some serious TLC. Cooking and cleaning dishes for her catering business had left the skin on her hands coarse, and her short nails were ragged.

  A receptionist in an attractive cream-colored uniform, which matched the salon’s décor, greeted DeeDee. “Ms. Wilson? Welcome to Nails by Nikki. May I get you a glass of prosecco while you
choose your nail color?”

  “Yes, I’d like that. Thank you,” DeeDee said. After the last couple of days some pampering and a glass of bubbly was exactly what she needed. The first few sips of the fizzy drink went straight to her head, and before she knew it she’d selected a vampy polish by the name of Rouge Noir. The way she was feeling right then, a boring nude shade would just not do. She smiled when the receptionist topped off her glass. She silently vowed not to let the prosecco get in the way of seeing what information she could find out from Nikki.

  She didn’t have to wait too long for Nikki, but it was long enough for DeeDee to feel some of her recent worries fade away as the soothing music began to make her feel relaxed. When she was approached by a petite redhead, she guessed correctly that it was Nikki, the salon owner. Nikki greeted her like an old friend and immediately put DeeDee at ease.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Wilson,” she said. “I’m Nikki. Please follow me.” Nikki led DeeDee to a nail station, which was more like a three-sided small room. While DeeDee settled into the soft leather treatment chair, Nikki set out the polish and a small bowl of warm water into which she mixed a soapy liquid. Next, she inspected DeeDee’s hands. “Hmm,” Nikki murmured, looking up at DeeDee with concern. “I can see your nails are quite damaged, but don’t worry. By the time you leave today we’ll have them looking pretty again. Please rest your hands in the water. Are you having just a regular manicure today, Ms. Wilson?”

  DeeDee submerged her hands in the water as Nikki had instructed her to do. “Please, call me DeeDee, and yes, a regular manicure is fine. I’m a chef, so I can’t have silks or gel.”

  “That explains it,” Nikki said. “I guess with your hands in water a lot and all that chopping and cooking you do, it must be hard to keep your nails looking pretty.” She lifted one of DeeDee’s hands out of the water, patted it dry, and rubbed some cream on her cuticles .

  “That’s right,” DeeDee said. “I’ve learned from experience it’s easier if I wear them short. And, since I started my business, I find myself catering parties rather than being a guest at a party, so I don’t have them painted because I’m not going out as much.”