Jake parked a space before the valet parking sign. One of the attendants, a young, darkly handsome Latino, rushed over to open the car’s door. Before he did, Jake turned and looked at the lady in the back.
“You okay? Good to go?” he asked Maddy.
“Yes, Dad, I’ll be fine,” she said with a smile. “No kissing on a first date. I remember.”
“Especially with a married man,” Jake laughed. “You look fabulous. Reel him in.”
The valet attendant opened the back door, and Maddy stepped out. The young man’s eyes widened then narrowed into what he believed was a seductive look. Maddy saw this and had to restrain a laugh so as not to embarrass the kid. A minute later, the maître d’ of Lesley’s on the Lake was leading the striking, tall woman to Mr. Simpson’s table.
Lesley’s was a fine dining restaurant overlooking Lake Minnetonka. Five nights each week, weather permitting, there was a five-piece jazz band with a female singer on the second-floor deck overlooking the lake. Cal Simpson had a table set above the main level in a semi-private alcove hanging out over the water. A truly terrific way to impress a woman if she was willing to be impressed.
While she was following the maître d’ Maddy casually looked over the patrons seated on the patio deck. She stopped looking when she saw Carvelli’s ex-cop friend, Dan Sorenson, sitting nearby with his wife at one of the tables.
Cal stood up for her and politely took her hand. He held her chair for her as she sat down. The maître d’ poured an excellent white wine and Cal raised his glass to her.
“To a beautiful lady on a lovely summer evening.”
“Thank you, Cal,” Maddy said. She took a sip of the wine, set her glass down, smiled politely and said, “Now get rid of the thugs.”
“What?” Cal asked.
“The two men at the table by themselves. It’s insulting to have them hovering over me while we have dinner. Get rid of them.”
Cal chuckled then signaled for the two men to leave. “They’re not thugs. They’re security.”
In the van, in the parking lot next door, the three of them clearly heard every word. The bug in Maddy’s necklace was working perfectly.
“That chick has brass balls,” Paxton said after hearing her tell Cal to get rid of the bodyguards.
“Sometimes a little too brassy,” Marc grumbled.
“Ssssh,” Conrad said. “I think I’m in love.”
For the next two hours, Maddy would later admit, she had an excellent meal and a pleasant conversation. Despite his upbringing and early years as a street hood, Cal Simpson had turned himself around. He could be a very charming, well-spoken and informed gentleman. Unlike most men in his position, he did not talk about himself. Most of what they talked about was Maddy. And most of what she told him were lies. Before anything else, the gang had put together a simple, easy to remember legend for her to use.
When Maddy decided to call it a night, she used her phone to call Waschke. Cal walked her out, followed discreetly by Dan and Marge Sorenson. Cal escorted her to the Lincoln Town Car and opened the door for her.
Maddy held out her hand which Cal took and thanked him for a lovely evening.
“Not even a little kiss?” Cal asked.
Without replying, Maddy slyly smiled and slipped into the back seat.
Before closing the door, Cal poked his head in and said, “I would love to see you again.”
“Let me think about it,” Maddy replied.
While the car pulled away, Cal stood on the sidewalk and watched it go. The massive ego on the man kicked in and made him even more determined to have that woman.
TWENTY-SEVEN
The Sunday morning after Maddy’s first “date” with Cal Simpson, the crew met at Jake’s Limousine Service. Waschke had coffee and pastry set out for everyone. Maddy and Paxton, having picked up Marc, were the last ones to arrive. When Maddy entered the customer area where they were meeting, the cynical ex-cops all stood and applauded.
“What’s that for?” she asked.
“A fine performance,” Carvelli said.
“Screw you, Carvelli,” she said forcing back a smile.
“Hey, Paxton was it not a great performance?” Carvelli asked.
“Well, yeah, but leave me out of this,” Paxton replied.
Maddy saw the silent little man sitting by himself and said, “Well, hello, Conrad. How’ve you been?”
“Ah, good, fine, Ms. Rivers,” he replied.
“Stay at least an arm’s length away from him,” Maddy told Paxton. “He can be a little grabby.”
Paxton looked at Conrad, sighed and said, “I don’t know. It’s been so long I might not mind.”
Amid the laughter, Maddy said to Conrad, “She’s kidding.”
“I know that,” he said. “Besides, you came after me, remember?”
Maddy narrowed her eyes then snarled, “This conversation is over.”
“What were your impressions of Cal Simpson?” Waschke asked. Being a homicide lieutenant, Jake was used to being in charge. He would get the meeting on track.
“Thanks,” Maddy said as Tommy Craven handed her and Paxton cups of coffee. “I liked him. He’s pleasant company. Nice place, a nice meal and all-around nice evening. And you bunch of slugs could take some lessons from him on how to act like a gentleman.”
“Now that hurts,” Carvelli said to Marc.
“No kidding. I’ll remember it,” Marc replied.
“How did Marge like the place?” Maddy asked Sorenson.
“We had a nice time,” Sorenson said.
“Did she know you were on the job?” Maddy asked.
“No, I said we needed a night out.”
“Did you get lucky?” Tommy asked.
“I knew one of you guys would ask him that question,” Maddy said chastising them as a group.
“They’re pigs,” Paxton added.
“At best,” Maddy said. She turned to Sorenson and asked, “Well, did you?”
This brought a healthy round of laughter.
“Okay, Conrad,” Waschke said. “You’re up. What do you have for us?”
“I have four bugs and it would be best if we could get them all placed,” he said getting serious. “I’m going to have to leave it with you where to place them. Since I don’t have a drawing of the house…”
“Did you try the city?” Carvelli asked.
“Yeah, they told me to go pound sand. They wouldn’t let me have it.”
“We could get it with a court order,” Marc said. “But we might as well knock on the door and ask this guy if we can come in and look around. He’d find out in about a minute.”
“I can check the place out and get locations,” Maddy said.
“Do you have another date, yet?” Waschke asked.
“Not yet,” Maddy replied. “He wants to take me out on the lake. Cruise around and go to lunch or dinner.”
“That’s probably a bad idea,” Carvelli said. “It will cause us problems covering you on a lake of that size.”
“I’m not worried about it,” Maddy said. “He’ll behave. I figure the third date I’ll ask him to show me his house. Then I’ll scout for the bugs.”
“That’s going to be risky,” Paxton said. “On the third date, he’ll expect you to sleep with him.”
“No chance,” Maddy replied. “I have the perfect excuse. No married men.”
“Are you comfortable with that?” Marc asked Carvelli.
“Not one bit,” he replied. “On the other hand, she can take care of herself,” Carvelli shrugged. “We’ll play it by ear. What else do you want to tell us, Conrad?”
“The range on these little devils we’ll be planting is, at most, a half a mile. And that’s if there’s nothing in the way.”
“We could set up at Vivian’s,” Carvelli said. “That’s about a quarter mile.”
“There are a couple of houses and a lot of trees in the way,” Maddy reminded him.
“Conrad?”
�
��Maybe, but no interference would be best,” he said. “These things don’t bounce off satellites. Are these houses both on the lake?”
“Yeah,” Carvelli said.
“Does Vivian have a boathouse?”
“Yes, she does,” Maddy replied. “Could you set it up in there? There are still trees in the way.”
“I could find a spot near his house to set up a signal boost. Somewhere along the shore. Maybe in a tree. Have it pick up the signal then boost it to the boathouse. I’m pretty sure that would work. I can set up the receivers and recorders in the boathouse out of the weather and have a separate recorder for each bug. I’ll make them frequency activated. As soon as the signal comes in, the recorder starts up.”
“What if someone else is on that frequency?” Waschke asked.
“A chance we’ll have to take if you want to do this,” Conrad said. “I’ll make it a very high frequency with a very short range. That should keep the odds down to a minimum.”
“Any questions?” Waschke asked. “Okay. We’ll get this set up this week.”
“I’ll call him tomorrow and set up the boat ride,” Maddy said. “Wednesday okay?”
When no one objected, they decided on the upcoming Wednesday.
“We’re going to need a couple of guys out fishing to cruise along and keep an eye on things,” Carvelli said.
“And it can’t be any of us,” Waschke added.
“I’ll get two guys,” Sorenson said. “I know who to get.”
“Someone he hasn’t seen or has not driven for him,” Waschke said.
“No problem,” Sorenson said.
“When are you going back to Chicago?” Maddy asked Paxton.
“My flight’s at 4:10,” she replied. “I didn’t want to take off any more time so that the Queen Bee won’t get on my ass about it.”
“Who’s paying for these trips?” Carvelli asked.
“Well, me,” Paxton replied.
“Keep track of your expenses and I’ll get you reimbursed. The rest of you get me an invoice for your time.”
“Is she okay with this?” Maddy asked referring to Vivian Donahue.
“Are you kidding? She loves this stuff. She’s mad at me because we had this meeting here and not at the mansion. When she says money’s no object and spend whatever you have to…” Carvelli said.
“She means it,” Maddy finished for him.
“Okay, Conrad,” Waschke said. “What next?”
“First, we need to set up the recording station,” Conrad answered.
“That’s the easy part,” Carvelli replied. “I’ll call Vivian, and we can do that today if you have the equipment ready.”
“I do,” Conrad said. “As I said, if Maddy can plant four bugs, we’ll have voice-activated equipment for each one.”
“Have you thought about how you’re going to get in the house?” Marc asked Maddy.
“I can get in,” she answered. “All I have to do is ask and he’ll be delighted to show me around. Getting out could be the problem. I’m not worried about it.
“I’ll call him tomorrow and set up the boat ride. While we’re cruising around the lake, I’ll casually mention I would like to see his home. He’ll jump at the chance. Show me the bugs, Conrad, and how to plant them.”
It took him less than a minute to show them to her—he had them in separate small plastic containers in a plastic bag—and how to plant them.
“Where do you suggest?” Maddy asked the group.
“In an office, if he has one,” Carvelli said. “Pretty certain he does.”
“Kitchen,” Conrad added. “People do a lot in the kitchen while on the phone. Remember, they can’t hear through doors. They can pick up clear as a bell, sounds up to about twenty feet. After that, the quality drops off.”
“I’ll find a couple more places,” Maddy assured them.
“All set?” Carvelli asked.
Conrad and Tommy Craven were walking across Vivian’s manicured lawn toward Carvelli. The two of them had exited the boathouse after spending two hours setting up the recording equipment.
Carvelli and Vivian Donahue were in padded lawn chairs under a tall shade tree waiting for them.
“All set,” Conrad said, “and good to go. We tested them, and they’re all working.”
Carvelli looked at Tommy then raised his eyebrows as if to question what Conrad said.
“Looks good to me,” Tommy said with a shrug.
Conrad and Tommy took the two empty chairs at the table. Being the good host that she always is, Vivian poured them each a glass of lemonade.
“Now what?” Vivian asked.
“You do understand how illegal this is, don’t you, Mrs. Donahue?” Tommy asked.
“Vivian,” she replied. “Of course, that’s why it’s so much fun. Now what?” she repeated.
“We want to use one of your boats,” Carvelli told her. “We need to cruise around by Simpson’s place and pick out a tree to plant the other thing.”
“The power booster,” Conrad said. “Um, ah, about me climbing a tree,” Conrad somewhat nervously said. “I’ve been thinking; it’s not really necessary. Tommy could do it…”
“No,” Carvelli said. “We’re only going to get one shot at this. You’re going up the tree and set this thing up.”
“I’m not any happier about it than you are, Conrad,” Tommy said. “That’s why I quit deer hunting. Don’t worry; it will be fine.”
“I want to ride along in the boat,” Vivian said.
“No,” Carvelli said. “He might be home and he might recognize you.”
“It’s my boat,” she said. “If he recognizes it, won’t it make sense that I am in it?”
“Vivian…”
“My boat,” she said again.
Carvelli leaned toward her with a stern look on his face. “It’s a bad idea…”
“My boat,” Vivian silently mouthed the words at him while smiling.
Carvelli looked at both Tommy and Conrad for a little help, but all he got was a shrug from Tommy and Conrad saying, “Her boat.”
“Fine,” said as he finally caved in.
Two nights later, a cloudy, moonless night, Tommy, Carvelli, and Conrad found the tree they had selected. It was 3:00 A.M. and as quiet as a church.
The three of them, dressed completely in black, had made their way from Vivian’s, down the shore to Simpson’s home. Carvelli would stay on the ground with the equipment while Tommy and Conrad climbed as high as they dared to plant the power booster. Once they reached the spot, Carvelli, having attached a rope to the bag holding the equipment, would climb up with it. His job was to make sure it did not snag on any branches. The tree itself was a huge, eighty-year-old maple with easy climbing branches. All went well until the equipment reached Conrad.
Carvelli had climbed about twenty feet up, guiding the bag. The last ten feet or so, the bag went up without a glitch. Conrad, barely able to breathe thirty feet up in a tree, managed to maneuver to where Tommy was casually standing on a small branch. By this point, Carvelli, no fear of heights himself, was back on the ground.
Conrad placed his right foot on the branch Tommy was on, but the extra weight was too much. Tommy started to say no when it snapped. At almost the same moment, a powerful yard light went on in the backyard of the house next door.
Conrad was the lucky one. His left foot was on a sturdy branch and both hands were gripping a branch above his head. Tommy was not so fortunate. When the branch snapped, he lost his balance and went down.
Almost miraculously, ten feet below him was an eight-inch branch strong enough to catch and hold him. Somehow, he managed to hold onto the bag with the equipment. Tommy landed on his stomach draped over the branch. The wind was knocked out of him and his abdomen hurt like hell, but he kept his wits. Conrad was standing on the branch that had held him up. Only now, terrified, he had both arms wrapped around the tree trunk and was hanging on for dear life.
On the ground, Carvelli heard t
he branch snap, Tommy crashing downward and then saw the light come on next door. Seconds later, the noise from Tommy falling stopped, and a door to the house opened. When it did, the biggest Rottweiler Carvelli had ever seen, or so he thought, came flying across the grass straight toward them.
Carvelli, for a man in his fifties, moved like a flash. As he scrambled to get back up in the tree, he whispered several times, “Be quiet,” hoping his companions would hear him.
Fortunately, two miracles occurred. After letting the dog loose, the homeowner had gone back inside. Then, the giant dog—Carvelli would later swear he could put a saddle on the beast—stopped in his tracks fifteen feet away.
It took Carvelli a few seconds to realize that the dog had hit an electronic fence at the property line.
For the next two minutes, everyone, including the dog, was silently frozen in place. Carvelli, now ten-feet up in the tree, held on, stared at the monster and held his breath. The Rottweiler sat on his haunches and stared back. Conrad held onto the tree’s trunk while Tommy fought to breathe again.
Apparently satisfied that the men in the tree were not a threat, the big dog moved off to do his business. When he finished, he came back and again sat staring at Carvelli. Five minutes later, a man appeared at the door and the dog silently trotted off to go back inside.
When the yard light went off, Carvelli asked, “Everybody still alive?”
“Yes,” both men replied.
“You okay, Tommy?” Carvelli asked looking up at the man draped over a branch just above him.
“I think so,” Tommy replied.
“Conrad?” Carvelli asked.
“Yes, I guess,” a shaky voice came back.
“Tommy, can you get back up to him?” Carvelli quietly asked.
“Yeah, give me a minute. We’ll get this done, then get the hell out of here.”
“Before that thing comes back looking for breakfast,” Carvelli said.
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