Alive After Friday (Sandy Reid Mystery Series)

by Rod Hoisington

He had a sailboat and that’s where the problem began. Well, I guessed Martin could hear part of it. “He had a sailboat, Martin. Not so large that one person couldn’t handle it, but he often had some guy from the yacht club go out with us. This one time the two of us went out alone. We were out of sight of land when the wind came up unexpectedly. Yet, nothing we couldn’t handle in a boat that size. The day was beautiful and we kept sailing with no problems. At one point when we were coming about—turning, you know—the boom swung over fiercely. If you’ve ever sailed, you know that’s not unusual and you have to be alert. Well, he wasn’t. It knocked him off his feet and he went flying overboard. He went under. Didn’t come right back up and I couldn’t see him. I panicked running from side to side on the boat looking for him, trying to see where he came up. But he didn’t come up. I radioed for help.”

  I must have appeared distressed relating the death of my husband, because Martin put his hand on my arm. “What a horrible way to die. So horrible for you to go through all that. And from the way you’re talking your suffering was just beginning.”

  “I can’t say he was my lifelong love, but still it was the loss of someone I lived with intimately, and he loved me. But the ordeal that followed was a nightmare.”

  “You mean the inquest?”

  “That was bad enough, yet there was no problem at that point. Ruled an accident immediately. But his family didn’t want that. They saw a chance to get a fantastic amount of money by cutting me out of the inheritance. Mind you, he had a trust fund, securities, an interest in the family business, the whole enchilada—that I’d inherit as his surviving spouse.”

  Martin was frowning for some reason. I hoped it was because he was sympathizing with me. “Now people might take that as a motive for murder. Yet, those are things that a wife just knows, when she’s thinking about security and her future. Of course, I expected to get all that. Isn’t that the deal, when you marry for money? You give up your freedom, the life of your choosing, the sex of your choosing, and you put up with the guy and his snoring for years. All for the comfort and security of a wealthy lifestyle.”

  I was thinking I should stop talking. I wasn’t going to explain why I was so terrified of facing the inquest. Thank God, there was no problem. No one doubted my story about the boom swinging over and hitting him. And during the investigation no one noticed that one of the winch handles was missing—it’s not unusual for a winch handle to be lost overboard.

  “Here’s the kicker, Martin. Just before they officially cleared me of any wrongdoing, the big shot family lawyer calls me into his fancy office. His highness is sitting there all puffed up behind a desk as big as this room. They had evidence that I murdered my husband, according to him. When the body was discovered, there was a bruise on the head, of course. The family hired a private investigator who hired a diver and supposedly recovered the winch handle with blood on it. They said I’d tossed it overboard. Can you believe they came up with all that phony evidence? They would see to it, they said, that I was arrested for murder and even if I were able to stay out of jail, they would fight me and I’d never get a cent. Scared the you-know-what out of me. He gave me a fifty thousand dollar check, and I signed his freaking papers.”

  “So, you’re saying there was no lawsuit.” He raised his eyebrows.

  “That’s not all—they stopped payment on the check. My sweet Mercedes SL550 wasn’t in my name, so his family took it back. They locked up the house with all my possessions still inside and I ended up with the clothes on my back. Plus, a nice coat I bought for our trip to Italy and will never need in Florida. The family wasn’t aware that I’d sent it to the cleaners. Don’t say anything about it, Martin, or someone will show up at my door and take it. Down again. I wasn’t ready to sell my hair to a wig shop, but I was down.”

  “Gail, I’m sorry you went through all that. I’m glad you feel comfortable enough with me to share it. With all that money at stake, there are many top-notch lawyers who would have taken your case and successfully called their bluff.”

  I don’t know why I took another drink, I’d already had one before he arrived. I really shouldn’t drink it if we were going out. Martin fixed a second martini and, we sat back down together. I said, “I understand life isn’t fair, but sometimes I just want to scream at what goes on. A good thing I don’t have a dog to kick around.”

  “Not fair,” he agreed. “The nicest person in the world can step off the curb and get flattened by a bus.”

  “True, and some undeserving people can do very little and someone hands them hundreds of thousands of dollars. Just for being special, I guess.” They didn’t deserve that money and didn’t desperately need it like I did. Martin was giving me a confused look. He had no idea what I was talking about. “But baby, look at me now. I’ve bounced back, haven’t I? I’ve even moved up a few grades with my friends.”

  I looked over at him playfully. I really didn’t want to go out. I just wanted the classy guy to stay there in my classy apartment. “And in two days it’ll be mine all mine.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “This condo...I’m paying cash.”

  “Really. Cash?” He raised his eyebrows. “Are you saying you’re closing on this condo in two days?”

  “How about that!” I went on and explained the seller had been thinking about a closing in ninety days, until I mentioned I’d be paying cash. The seller loved hearing that, and we agreed to close as soon as both sides were ready. “Maybe we should go out and celebrate.”

  “Oh, that’s marvelous, Gail. I’m so happy for you. I know it’s what you’ve wanted. I just assumed you’d already bought it, since you’re living here.”

  “Part of the deal. I rented it from the seller for a month while we are waiting to close. The closing is just a formality, of course.”

  “So, that’s what you meant when you said you are paying cash? But you don’t take cash into the closing and put it on the table.”

  “Oh, the real estate woman told me all that. I’ll take the cash to my bank and they’ll give me a guaranteed check.”

  “Sounds good. Let me know if I can help in any way. You need to be careful taking the money to the bank. Do you have an attorney for the closing?” When she didn’t answer, he carried on, “None of my business but I’m willing to help.” He took another bite of cheese and crackers. “These are pretty good. Are you hungry enough for dinner?”

  I would have just preferred to stay there and get closer. “Whatever you want, Martin.” He started to get up so I guess he wanted to go out. “You suppose I should change? Where are we going tonight?” I asked.

  “You look fine.”

  “I’ll go in the bathroom. Have another cheese and cracker.” I left him sitting there and went in the bathroom. I looked in the mirror. Actually, I didn’t look that bad, I was glad I hadn’t finished that third drink. That’s when I heard voices. I opened the door a crack. He was on his phone. I couldn’t hear everything, but I definitely heard him tell the caller to phone back in five minutes. What was that all about?

  When I returned to the living room, I asked, “Is everything okay?” He really looked uptight.

  He frowned. “Yes, are you ready?”

  “I mean about the phone call.” I was suspicious about that call.

  “What...oh that. Business...just business.”

  He waited while I brought his blazer to him.

  His phone rang, he answered and started talking into the phone, “...no, I’m not interested in that...who’s he going to complain to...are you absolutely certain...you are positive...okay, then I’ll come up there. Goodbye.”

  “Bad news?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “What do you mean you’re sorry? You’re not leaving.”

  He shook his head and said again he was sorry.

  “You can’t leave me like this, Martin. Can’t you do it in the morning?”

  “In the morning I’ll be in New York.”

  In despe
ration I put on my sexy-time voice, “We don’t have to go out. Why don’t you just relax for a couple of hours and then go. Please don’t leave.”

  He just shrugged. It was business.

  “You know where I live.” That sounded lame but I said it anyway. He left, after giving me ten minutes of eloquent and inadequate apologies. Trying to get out of being close to me was the way I took it. I had the definite feeling I’d been wronged. Maybe my marriage story turned him off. Maybe he was offended, when I didn’t take him up on his offer to help me take the money to the bank. Maybe he wanted to play the macho protective male. Damn men, I’ll never understand them. And that phone call? I’d bet my life it was phony.

  Who am I kidding? I never had a chance with the guy. It didn’t take long for him to size me up as a loser. I wondered where he’d have taken me that night. I wondered if I could return that damn strapless outfit to Nordstrom’s.

  But I had my new condo. At least I had that. Sometimes you have to go out and kick ass to get what you want. I had my condo. And no one was going to take it away from me.

  Loser here needed another drink. Never had a chance with him. Who was I kidding? Anyway, I didn’t need to worry about fixing something to eat that night. I could eat all those stupid cracker things. Those stupid fucking cracker things.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Martin took the elevator down from Gail’s apartment and rushed across the lobby of the Magnolia Palms. He signed out at the security desk and trotted to his car parked behind the building. He dialed Sandy, “Pick up, pick up,” Her phone went to voicemail. “We don’t have time for this,” he said aloud.

  He dialed Mel Shapiro. Mel saw who was calling and said, “What was that all about?”

  “You were great. Thanks for going along with it. I couldn’t talk before. I was with Gail Holman in her apartment. Oh, you don’t know who she is...a suspect. I was supposed to take her out tonight, but when she dropped some terrific information I pretended to receive an emergency business call so I could get out of there fast.”

  “You scared the life out of me, Martin. I answer the phone and you say don’t ask any questions just phone me back in five minutes.”

  “I’m glad you were there to answer. Anyone else would have been confused.”

  “No, I wasn’t confused. I just assumed you were drunk. What was the terrific news?”

  Martin explained that Gail hadn’t closed on her condo. That meant the sale wasn’t final and she still had the cash. It could very well be their extortion money. The closing would be the day after tomorrow at three o’clock, but she’d be taking the cash to the bank sometime before that. “That gives us thirty-six hours to stop her. Thirty-six hours to somehow either find the money or catch her with the money before she takes it to the bank.

  Mel said, “I understand. If the closing goes through, then the condo seller has the money and all you can do is try to lay claim to the condo itself. It’s encouraging that she hasn’t closed yet, but I don’t believe she’s still sitting on all that cash. If she’s closing on the condo tomorrow, then she put that money in her bank account long ago and you’re not going to find it under her bed.”

  “No, she told me this evening she still has the actual cash, and I offered to help carry it to the bank.”

  “If she gets to the bank with the cash and buys a certified check, then the only way you could stop her is to block the closing somehow,” Mel said, “and without a court order, you can’t stop the closing. Impossible to get a court order that fast and you don’t have the evidence to convince a judge anyway.”

  “The FBI,” Martin almost yelled. “I’ll bet the FBI could intercept that cash, if she walks in the bank with stolen money. Can you reach that agent who’s working the extortion case tonight? What’s his name, Conrad Hastings?”

  “Great idea. It’s late but I’ll phone him now. But if that doesn’t work the only hope for you guys is to find the actual cash. I’ll get back to you.”

  Martin sat there a minute thinking about Gail with mixed emotions. He wasn’t proud of himself for how he’d tricked her into trusting him. True, he hadn’t seduced her under false pretenses, or scammed her out of money, or something as despicable as that. Just the same, he had played with her emotions, led her on and deceived her. Thankfully, his ruse had been successful. If she were guilty of stealing the payoff money from Boyd, or worse, killing him in order to steal it, she was a criminal and deserved to be tricked. Yes, he told himself, it was fair and just—except for one thing, they weren’t certain that all of their suspicions were true.

  Sandy wouldn’t have turned off her phone. Not in the middle of all that was going on. Something was wrong. He redialed. Same result—only taking voicemail.

  Chapter Forty

  Across town at that moment, Sandy was sitting side-by-side with Doreen in the hall outside the booking area of the Palm Beach County Sheriff’s Office. Both women had one wrist handcuffed and the other cuff snapped around a heavy bar running across in front of their row of plastic chairs.

  Two hours earlier, the deputies had arrived at the scene and found a naked gunshot victim lying on the floor. The subsequent police report was rather confusing; one woman explained she had walked in on the other woman and the naked guy while they were playing some kind of sex game. The other woman denied all that and claimed she was a lawyer who just wanted to talk to the naked guy.

  The deputies felt justified in arresting Doreen as she admitted firing the gun. They also brought in Sandy because they didn’t know what else to do with her.

  A deputy had brought them to the sheriff’s headquarters handcuffed together in the back seat of a patrol car. They were processed together and led around together from one location in the headquarters building to another for over an hour. That was the truly annoying part for Sandy: everyone assumed the women were two of a kind. Probably hookers considering the time of night. Equally guilty of something or other. And defining the “something or other” apparently was taking the police some time.

  As if their being on display in the hall wasn’t enough, Doreen, with her remarkable legs stretching out from under her white tennis skirt, was receiving an endless flow of well-deserved attention from the deputies and other assorted building personnel who repeatedly found it necessary to take a detour into that part of the building and cross in front of her.

  “They said your buddy, Brad, was recovering nicely though still in the hospital,” Sandy said. “I truly believe they don’t know what to do with us. I’m hoping that as soon as every man in the entire county has checked out your Barbie Doll legs eight times, they might let us go. Thank God you have on underwear or the parade would never end.”

  “Funny you should mention that.”

  Sandy’s head snapped around. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

  Doreen shrugged. “Hey, I don’t normally walk around like this. What kind of a girl do you think I am? It was supposed to be part of the game, but we didn’t get to that part.”

  “Enough!” Sandy put her head down in her hands as best she could with one wrist cuffed to the bar.

  “You don’t have to be so snippy. Wouldn’t have been any trouble, if you’d just played your part. Was that too much to ask? If you didn’t like fantasy sex, why’d you show up? Doesn’t the word threesome mean anything to you? What’d you think we were going to do, sit around with our legs neatly crossed at the ankles and discuss books?”

  “That wasn’t a fantasy gun you were waving around.”

  “Yeah, that didn’t work out well, did it? That’s the gun Brad keeps in his desk. We did that game once before with Gail. She said it was exciting—she loved pretending to be the hooker. Guess I need practice with that gun.”

  “And you actually thought I’d just go along with it?”

  “You should be pleased. Brad was really excited about you.”

  “Excuse me if I don’t feel honored. That guy probably gets excited opening a can of beans.”

  “He
told me you were Gail’s friend and had done some junk with her. Said the reason you were coming back that night was to play.”

  Sandy looked up at the ceiling. “How did you come up with all that stuff?”

  “You mean the acting? What’d you think of me? Damn good wasn’t I?”

  “You were perfect. My heart stopped when you burst in.”

  “I told you, I’d done it before. I forgot a couple of my lines though, real zingers. But it still sounded good, didn’t it?” Cautiously she looked over at Sandy. “We could still be friends. Do you bruise easily?”

  Sandy ignored her. “You must tell the police the truth, dammit. I overheard you tell the sergeant it was all a game. According to you, we were all just playacting. You two boneheads not only almost killed me, you now have me in trouble with the law. You must explain that I didn’t show up there for sex with you two. I’ll choose my own threesome...I mean my own partner, thank you very much. Do you actually work for that creep? Do you get it on regularly with him?”

  “What do you think?” Doreen grinned. “You got a good look at him.”

  “Geez, this better not get in the papers.”

  After another half hour, a Sergeant Kracman came and led Doreen away, his hand gently on her arm as if she were some fragile trophy. He ignored Sandy’s protests. Thirty minutes later he returned and stood there sternly looking at her as though she had some explaining to do. She was stunned when he told her, “Your friend says you knew it was just a sex game and wanted in.”

  “She’s not my friend and of course they’re claiming I agreed. Otherwise, they’re facing a charge of assault and attempted rape. Okay, that’s it.” She explained again that she was a lawyer from Park Beach. “I want to file a criminal complaint against both of them, right now.”

  The sergeant shook his head, “You’re the one that essentially caused the injuries. Why’d you push the guy into a loaded gun?”

  “Because I’m getting damn tired of having guns pointed at me. Sergeant, you are an officer of the law, and I’m making a criminal complaint. Now do your job and take my complaint.”