“Not quite.”
He revved the engine. The girls oohed and aahed on the lawn.
“Well, this oughta be real interesting.”
“It is. And I need your help.”
He stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
“I know, I know,” I said. “You owe me, and I deserve it. But I seriously need your help to finish this off. To do the right thing.”
“The right thing would be to punch you in the stomach.”
“After, when we’re done, you can punch me in the stomach.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “Swear. Help me finish this, and you can have a free shot.”
He revved the engine again, and we shot away from the curb, his cackle drowning out the engine.
56
The next morning there was a check in my mailbox, as promised.
I tried not to be creeped out by the fact that Amber knew where I lived without me telling her. I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand the dichotomy they all presented between being airheaded sorority girls and ruthless gambling moguls.
I showed the check to Julianne.
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Nice work, Detective.”
“I thought so.”
“Did you have to sell your soul to get it?”
“Nope. Not even a little.”
“Even more impressive.”
“I might’ve promised your services to someone, though.”
“Certainly you’re joking.”
I was exhausted when I had finally gotten home and had just given her the bare bones about what had transpired over the course of the day. I fell asleep before I even finished, so the entire conversation was foggy. But I knew I hadn’t mentioned the offer I’d made to Moe.
I quickly told her what I’d said to him about legal representation.
She didn’t roll her eyes at me, which was always a good sign.
“He has no intention of pretending he didn’t do it?” she asked when I was done.
“No, don’t think so. He really seems sorry that he did all of this.”
“That’ll help,” she said. “Okay. I’ll see what I can come up with for him. But if the soccer association doesn’t file against him, he should be okay. It was his cousin that stole the money from the casino.”
“I’m just guessing they’ll have to file against him. To cover themselves financially.”
“They can just remove him from the board,” Julianne said. “With the check, they’ve got money for their operating costs now. They should be functional. So they probably don’t have to unless they want to.”
I remember how upset Belinda was initially and how she’d called him a weasel. It was hard for me to envision her being talked out of pressing charges against Moe.
“There would be costs associated with charging him,” Julianne said, reading my mind. “Especially if they went after him in civil court. And they’ve made it clear they don’t have the money to do anything like that. They can’t even pay you.”
So maybe Moe’s future wasn’t so bleak, after all. Maybe he could survive all of this and get some help to curb his gambling.
I held up the check. “I need to take this to Belinda.”
Julianne set her coffee cup down and put her arms around my neck. “The child is still sleeping. I was hoping you might ravish me before she woke.”
My skin tingled. “Oh.”
Her lips brushed my neck. “We could be fast.”
“I could, uh, manage that.”
Her lips found my ear. “I missed you yesterday. And I still want a baby.”
“Then I probably owe you.”
“Yes. I’m certain you do. Particularly if you want me to help Moises.”
“So would this be like an advance on services?”
She bit my earlobe. “It would be like the first in an installment plan.”
“Do I need to sign something?”
She kept her arms around my neck and pulled me toward the stairs. “No. I know where you live. Collecting will be easy should you run behind on your payments.”
I swallowed. “I’d prefer to pay on time.”
Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth tightened into an evil grin. “Then your first payment is due right now.”
We went upstairs, and I paid up.
57
After the ravishing, I managed to get my Jell-O-like body out of the bed, into the shower, and into the car. My mind was clear, but it felt like I’d run two marathons back-to-back.
Making babies was hard work.
I’d called Belinda and asked her to meet me at the soccer offices. She’d sounded despondent on the phone, and I thought she assumed I was just coming by to tell her that I didn’t have good news and that we should go ahead and cancel the games.
When I handed her the check, she didn’t say anything for five minutes. She just stared at it, her brow furrowed, like it was written in a foreign language.
“This is from some Greek place,” she finally said. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to understand,” I said. “But trust me when I tell you that is your money. Every penny. It went on a ride, but that is the money that belongs to Rose Petal soccer.”
She stared at it some more. “Do I even wanna know?”
“No. Probably not. And it doesn’t matter. The money is back, so the season is on. And I’m pretty sure the trophies are back in place now, too.”
She looked at me like I was nuts. “I was over there yesterday morning. It was still empty.”
“Check again today,” I said. “Pretty sure they’ll be there.”
Moises had assured me that he and Elliott were taking them straight to the storage space at the fields. They were going to unload them, return the U-Haul, and head to Elliott’s place. And probably try to figure out what to do next. I’d told them to hold tight until they heard from me. If my plan worked the way I wanted it to, they’d have to wait only a couple of days.
“Wow,” Belinda said, pushing the stringy hair away from her face. “I . . . don’t know what to say.”
“Say the games are on.”
She smiled. “The games are on.”
I smiled back. “Good. Carly will be thrilled, and so will about a thousand other kids.”
“What about Moises?” she asked, the smile dimming.
“He’s okay.”
“Oh, I don’t care if he’s okay. If he’s got a rattlesnake in his pants and his hands are tied behind his back, I’m okay with that.”
“He does not have a rattlesnake in his pants.”
“Was he the one that stole the money?”
I hesitated. “Yes.”
“And the trophies?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head. “Incredible.”
“Can I make a suggestion?”
“You found my money. You can do whatever you’d like, Deuce.”
I nodded. “I don’t think you should press charges.”
“He stole, Deuce,” she said. “Money. And trophies. All told, it was like a hundred grand in cash and prizes.”
“I know. But you have it all back now.”
“So that makes it all right?” She shook her head. “No way. That weasel nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“But you have it all back, and you didn’t have a heart attack,” I said, trying to get her to come around. “Everything is okay. I’m not sure what good comes from punishing him.”
“How about the fact that he might not be able to steal again?” she said.
“I don’t think he will.”
“If he’s in jail, you won’t have to think. You’ll know.”
I sighed. “Belinda. Come on.”
“I’m not following you, Deuce. At all. I know you’re one heckuva nice guy, but I’m not understanding why you would let this turkey walk.”
“You’re pissed at him,” I said. “And justifiably so. But he’s genuinely sorry. Really. And we got ever
ything back.” I paused. “I don’t wanna go into the details, but the guy’s had a rough go of it. Most of it his fault, but not all of it. I don’t excuse what he did. But I guess I’m asking you not to make it worse for him.”
She flipped the check over in her hands a couple of times, frowning at me. I understood her conflict.
If I was in her shoes, I’d probably have felt the same way. I was not sure why I was so sympathetic to Moe, but I thought it went back to feeling like the guy got bullied and no one wanted to help him. Or maybe didn’t know how to help him. I just didn’t see what good would come from locking him up. He wasn’t so much a criminal as a guy who’d made some really horrific decisions because he was afraid. More than anything, I thought he needed some friends and some support.
“He can’t be on the board anymore,” Belinda said, setting the check down on the desk.
“Of course. I know that, and so does he.”
“He know you’re here?”
“No. I’m doing this on my own.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay. He literally can’t be involved with the programs at all. Ever again. I won’t bend on that.”
“That’s fair.”
“And I want an apology from him,” she said. “To my face.”
“I can arrange that.”
She let out a sigh, still clearly torn. It was like she wanted to come up with something that I’d disagree with so she could go after him. Again, I didn’t begrudge her those feelings. They were fair and understandable.
“Fine,” she said. “If the trophies are back, I won’t press charges.”
“Thank you.”
“And I’ll figure out how to get you and your partner paid this next week.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “You’re not pressing charges. I know that’s not an easy thing. Consider us square.”
“I don’t wanna do that, Deuce,” she said. “You seriously saved the season. We owe you.”
“We’re good,” I told her. “Really. I appreciate you letting this go. That’s enough.”
She frowned at me.
“I’m not gonna take your money,” I said. “So don’t try.”
“What about your partner?”
I pictured an “already irritated with me” Victor when I told him we’d just done this whole thing for free.
“He’ll be fine,” I lied.
58
I spent the next two days putting the last pieces of my plan together. A couple of calls to Victor, a call to Myrtle Callaghan to let her know we were on track, a call to Moises and Elliott to assure them I hadn’t forgotten them, and clearing my Sunday morning.
“Do I need to set aside bail money for you?” Julianne asked once or twice.
“Nothing illegal and nothing that illicit,” I said. “I promise.”
“I don’t want Daddy to go to jail!” Carly yelled. “Who would make me breakfast?”
The love of a child.
The games went on as planned on Saturday. The Mighty, Fightin’, Tiny Mermaids came together and laid a 6–2 whupping on the Purple Ladybugs. Belinda waved at me during the game and seemed happy to be patrolling the fields once again.
On Sunday morning I got up early, showered, put on some dress slacks and a button-down shirt, kissed Julianne good-bye, and told her I’d be back in time for a late breakfast. She murmured something, rolled over, and fell back to sleep.
I guess I’d convinced her I wouldn’t be arrested anytime soon.
The traffic around New Spirit Fellowship Church was akin to a sporting event or a rock concert. Police officers directed traffic in the clogged streets leading to the massive parking lot, guiding us in and waving, happy to see us. Volunteers wearing bright orange vests smiled as they directed us into parking spots and welcomed us with loud shouts of “Good morning!”
I walked with the throngs toward the church. It was a balanced mix of families, seniors, and single people. The doors were held by more volunteers, all wearing shiny name tags, greeting us as we stepped through the doors.
I hadn’t stepped foot inside the church when I’d brought Carly to camp, so I had to stop for a second and take it all in when I walked inside.
It was the size of an arena. A massive stage at the front, two huge screens hanging above it, balcony seating overhead. I quickly estimated that it held close to six thousand people, and the seats were filling fast. It had all the intimacy of a college football game.
Haygood knew how to put on a show.
I settled into a seat on the lower level and waited for the show to start.
The floodlights above the stage flickered, and a ripple of excitement worked its way through the crowd. There was movement in the shadows of the stage, and then the floodlights above the stage flashed on and the band illuminated in the lights roared into a loud, raucous . . . hymn.
The congregation rose to their feet, clapping and raising their hands, rocking and swaying to the music. The band was young, hip, dressed in ripped-up jeans and T-shirts, hair spiked up, their arms covered in bracelets. They were indistinguishable from any young band you might see on YouTube.
The lyrics were tough to distinguish, but I had to admit, the band was good.
The song ended, and the congregation applauded and then went into a frenzy when Charles Haygood strode out onto the stage, waving like a newly elected president. He wore expensive-looking blue jeans and a long-sleeve button-down and a wireless mic that wrapped around his cheek.
He motioned for the crowd to settle down, and he opened with a blessing, invoking Jesus, God, and several other things that I missed because I was just confused that anyone would consider this a church service. It had been years since I’d been in a Sunday service, but this was a far cry from what I remembered.
The hour-long service moved quickly. Lots of songs and lots of Haygood telling us about honesty and how honesty wasn’t always easy, but it was the way to becoming closer to God.
Ironic.
There was also a fifteen-minute period where baskets were passed, and lots and lots and lots of money went from people’s pockets into the baskets.
I declined.
The service ended with another rip-roaring number from the band, and the excited congregation filed out, happy and smiling and ready to go be honest.
Haygood was already in the middle of the vestibule as people streamed out, receiving members of his congregation as they exited and kissed up to him. I let the line thin out before I walked toward him.
His radiant smile remained as he stuck his hand out in my direction. “Mr. Winters. So nice to see you on a Sunday morning. I guess your daughter convinced you this might be a fun place?”
“Not exactly,” I said, shaking his hand. “I was hoping I might be able to have a few minutes of your time.”
“As you can see, Sundays are pretty busy for me,” he said, chuckling.
“Yeah. Clearly. But it’s about what we spoke about before. The money?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Do you have news?”
“I do.”
“Give me a few minutes, and we’ll head up to my office.”
I stood to the side as he continued to schmooze his followers. Twenty minutes later, he motioned to me and we headed up to his massive office.
“I take it you found Mr. Huber?” he said, sliding into same chair he’d sat in before and offering the other one to me.
“I did.”
“And where was he?”
“In a bit of trouble,” I said, not interested in sharing details with him. “But he’s okay now.”
“Do the authorities have him in custody?”
“No.”
“Ah. I probably need to file a complaint for that to happen,” he said, nodding. “I will do that today.”
“I don’t think that would be a great idea.”
He looked at me, surprised. “No?”
“No.”
“Well, then, I guess I’m confused.”
“I was, too
,” I said. “Until I talked with Moises.”
“Did he tell you more lies?” He chuckled, shaking his head.
“No. I don’t think he did.”
The room got quiet. He waited for me to say something else, but I was happy to wait him out.
“I’m not quite sure why you’re here, then,” he said. “Have you recovered the money that belonged to me?”
“I actually recovered something better,” I said. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a small folded envelope. I held it out to him.
He took it. “Is this a check?”
“Hardly.”
He hesitated, then opened the envelope. He pulled out the pictures, and his face went pale.
I smiled.
“What is this?” he said.
“You want me to explain it to you?”
He didn’t say anything.
“Okay, I will,” I said, shrugging. “That is a giant estate out near the lake.”
I’d purposely given him only a picture of the house, not any of the woman. I didn’t think the infidelity was any of my business. That was his problem. And I didn’t think I needed to mention her to get what I wanted from him.
His face reddened, and a snarl started to form on his mouth.
“He didn’t take the money,” I said. “You did. And you tried to blame him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Pretty sure I do. So, no. I don’t have your money. You still have it. But you’re going to give it to me.”
His face went purple. “Excuse me?”
“Actually, you’re right. It’s not your money. It’s the church’s money. And I don’t think the people in your flock would appreciate learning that their contributions went toward building your second home.”
Every inch of skin tightened on his face.
“So here’s what I’m going to suggest,” I said. “First, I need sixty thousand dollars in cash. Not for me, but to pay back some people. Think of it as a donation.”
I almost sensed relief in his face, and I knew that was because I wasn’t asking for the half million he’d told me had been stolen. He walked over to a cabinet, opened it, and popped open the door on a small safe inside. He reached in, did some counting, and then closed the safe and the cabinet.
He set a fat yellow envelope on the table. “There you go.”
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