Carter Peterson Mystery Series (Volume 1)

by Al Boudreau

  “Uh-oh, that doesn’t sound good. Is this the part where you kick me to the curb?”

  “No, it’s not like that. There were just too many instances over the past few weeks that gave me a serious scare. It’s taken me a lifetime to find you, Sarah.”

  Sarah kept her focus on the road ahead, quiet for a long while.

  I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Look, don’t overthink what I just said. It’s me being concerned for your safety. And maybe being a little bit selfish.”

  “I’m not going to lie to you, Carter. Getting shot scared me more than anything I’ve ever experienced. I have some decisions to make. But I know I want us to remain a team.”

  “I wasn’t sure what I wanted to hear until you said it,” I replied, relieved that Sarah knew where I was coming from.

  “If I can’t be in the field as often, so be it. There’s enough planning, research, and good old-fashioned digging to do,” she said as the Bridgeport Police Department sign came into view. “Now get your car and let’s get back to the house.”

  Chapter 25

  “What took you so long?” Sarah asked as I walked through the front door of our place.

  “You must have flown back here,” I replied as I gazed at the spread she’d laid out across the coffee table. The collection included cheese, crackers, chips, dip, and a big bottle of our favorite Pinot noir.

  She smiled. “I might have exceeded the posted speed limits just a tad. I wanted to get this stuff set up before you got home. I thought we could have a snack while we discuss our next move.”

  “This is great, Sarah,” I said as she poured us each a glass of wine. “Cheers.”

  Sarah clinked her glass against mine and proceeded to dig in to the mini-feast when a text message bleeped out an arrival on my burner phone.

  “Wow. That was fast,” I said as I scanned the message. “Looks like Stoney’s come through. He must have expanded his operation since the last time we used him. His prices went up, but so did his efficiency.” I read the message out loud. “Hope you like to read. Should have charged you more.”

  Sarah broke into laughter. “Well that’s rather awesome. I’m excited to see if our instincts are correct on Dominic Caldwell.”

  “I’ll download the files onto two separate tablets. It’ll take us less time to go through the information if we do it together.”

  “Works for me,” Sarah replied as she poured each of us a bit more wine.

  Within minutes we were staring at more information than I’d ever seen compiled on any individual. Stoney left no stone unturned, sending along details about Caldwell’s life so invasive the pages rendered us speechless for a good while.

  Sarah leaned forward and grabbed another handful of crackers, never once taking her eyes off the screen. Her expression reminded me of the look she often wore when reading one of her favorite author’s mystery novels.

  “Some of this information is just … there are details here I almost wish Stoney hadn’t sent.”

  “Makes me wonder how the guy ever landed a government job.”

  “Simple,” Sarah replied. “He knew somebody.” She eyed me. “Have you read the military records yet?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Looks like he was a real tyrant.”

  “What branch of the service was he in, the Marines?”

  “You guessed it.” Sarah got quiet again. Several minutes passed when she said, “Huh. Looks like Caldwell got married in Portugal over fifteen years ago. It says here the woman was a citizen of the United States prior to their nuptials.”

  “What’s the woman’s name?”

  “Margaret Franklin. Looks like Stoney sent along a slew of information on her, too.”

  I looked up from my tablet and turned toward Sarah. “Franklin is the last name of that miserable wench I had to deal with in Boston.” Did I dare hope?

  “Peg Franklin,” Sarah said out loud as her eyes grew wide. “Carter, you know Peg is short for Margaret, right?”

  We stared at each other. “Boy does this ever change the game,” I muttered. “If indeed Dominic Caldwell and Peg Franklin are husband and wife.”

  “I’d say the probability is off the charts. We need to clue James in.”

  “If I know him he’ll tell us his hands are tied,” I said. “The way we acquired this information isn’t exactly by the book.”

  “True. And if Caldwell and Franklin are involved in embezzlement and the murder of these women, Bridgeport PD wouldn’t be handling the case anyways. It would get kicked up to the district attorney’s office, right?”

  “Without question,” I replied. “Those two would definitely be brought before a federal grand jury. If they don’t have someone running cover for them, that is.”

  I continued to scroll through page after page of background on Caldwell until I came to a handwritten note followed by multiple pages of what looked like financial ledgers. The note read: Some damning fodder, compliments of my new business partner, and was simply signed S. Apparently my assumption that Stoney had expanded his operation was an accurate one.

  Most of the records appeared to be deposits made by Franklin to financial institutions located all over the world, complete with receipts and dates. I’d never been great at math but the figures, loosely tallied in my head, totaled in the millions.

  “Looks like Franklin has quite a bit of explaining to do,” I said, showing Sarah my find.

  “Wow. Dollar figures like that are hard to fathom.”

  “I’m calling James,” I said, phone in hand. I got up off the couch and began pacing, the enormity of what we’d uncovered making me light-headed. If Franklin knew we’d pulled back the curtain on her multi-million dollar embezzlement and murder cover-up for less than two-thousand dollars, we’d surely be on the receiving end of a high-powered rifle in a heartbeat.

  “Hey, Carter, is this important?” Detective James asked as he answered his phone. “I’m a little tied up right now. Rose Stanton’s husband just showed up here.”

  “Oh yeah, it’s important, all right.”

  “Okay, hold on. I’m going to move our conversation into the conference room.” I heard James tell Stanton he had to take an important call regarding his case. A few seconds passed when James said, “I’m clear, Carter, what have you got?”

  “We have reason to believe Dominic Caldwell and Peg Franklin are husband and wife.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s not all. It appears as though Franklin has been socking away massive quantities of cash in banks all over the world.”

  “You have hard evidence to back up these allegations?” James asked.

  “We do.”

  “Just so I’m straight on this, you’re telling me Peg Franklin and Caldwell are responsible for Rose Stanton’s death, plus the murders of the other two accountants? And all for the purpose of skimming cash from the corporations Franklin oversees?”

  “We haven’t been over the evidence in great detail yet, but our initial look points to them. James … we’re talking lots and lots of cash.”

  “Do you mind me asking how you and Sarah got your hands on such information?”

  “You sure you want to know?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. When – Mr. Stanton, I’ll be right out. Please wait for me at my desk. Sorry about that, Carter. This guy’s a little impatient. He’s not happy with the pace Troy PD has adopted in regard to his wife’s murder investigation, so he thought he might come to Bridgeport and try busting my cojones. Are you and Sarah at the house?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell you what. I need to calm Stanton down, then I’ll be by. Oh, and before I forget, we picked up those two guys who were tailing you and Sarah. The ones who fled the accident scene. She was right. One of them was at the safe house with her. They’re not FBI or Homeland. They’re simply thugs-for hire. I hope to learn more later on.”

  Chapter 26

  I lifted my head off from the armrest of
the loveseat, my neck feeling less than invigorated by my prior sleeping position. I’d inadvertently spent the night in the living room again. I looked at the clock: 7:18 am. Sarah was nowhere in sight. I assumed she’d retired to the bedroom at some point during the evening, leaving me to my own devices. She’d woken me up enough times in the past to realize it was better to leave me be, despite the toll it took on my tired frame.

  I stood up, got my bearings, and headed toward the kitchen to make our usual morning pot of coffee. As I filled the filter with fresh grounds I remembered Detective James had said he’d be stopping by last night. The guy rarely failed to follow through, causing me to wonder what had become of him.

  I returned to the living room to check my phone. Nothing.

  I fantasized about getting a deep tissue massage as the aroma of Ethiopian Yergacheffe filled the air. I was angry that I hadn’t hauled myself to bed at a decent hour, needing a good night’s sleep more than just about anything.

  “Morning, handsome,” Sarah said as she padded across the floor.

  “You’re a good little liar,” I said with a weak smile, “but thanks. I know for a fact I’m not looking fresh-as-a-daisy right now. I don’t feel all that spectacular, either.”

  “Aw, I’m sorry. I probably should have riled you up, but we both know you’re worse than an angry bear when someone interrupts your little hibernations.”

  “I know. I won’t hold it against you.” I rubbed the restlessness out of my eyes as I headed back toward the kitchen and asked, “Did you happen to hear from James last night? He never stopped by.”

  “Nope. I’ll check my messages, but I had my phone next to me all night. Maybe he got called out on a case. He is a cop, you know.”

  I gave Sarah my not-so-impressed look.

  “Oops. Too early for my subtle humor, huh?”

  “I’ll let you know after my first cup.”

  “Okay, fair enough. Maybe you can enlighten me on a different subject in the meantime. I was thinking about that massive packet of information we got from Stoney. How on earth did he come up with those financials so quickly? The only reason criminals are able to hide massive sums of money offshore is because connecting the dots is so difficult and time-consuming. How can we be sure the information he sent us is legit?”

  I pondered her question. “He had to have an inside source. But there’s no doubt in my mind the records he sent us are legitimate. Not once have I received a bogus packet from him, and I’ve been dealing with the guy for years.” I poured two cups of coffee, slid one across the counter to Sarah, and took a seat at the kitchen table.

  “By the way, I got a text from Brian. He wants to know if Shin can stay with us tonight.”

  I was about to give the go-ahead when I heard my cell ringing in the living room. “Who the heck is calling so early? It’s not even 8 o’clock yet.”

  “Don’t get up, Carter. I’ll get your phone.” Sarah returned and handed the cell over.

  “Hello,” I answered and enabled the speaker function.

  “CP, its Tommy O’Hey. Sorry to hit you so early, but we’ve got a situation down here on Causeway Street that I know you’re going to find real interesting.”

  Sarah and I gave one another a quizzical look. “I’m all ears, Tommy. What’s going on?”

  “I got called out on a traffic detail ‘bout an hour ago. Had to shut down a major swath of Causeway so the feds could investigate this crazy double homicide that went down early this morning. Turns out a Homeland agent was leaving his place with this woman and some guy walked right up and capped ‘em both on the spot. Ten bucks if you can guess the woman’s name?”

  I stared at Sarah, her jaw hanging open in apparent disbelief. “Peg Franklin,” I replied, my mind already spinning out possible scenarios as to how it might have gone down.

  “Nailed it,” O’Hey replied. “Real odd situation, too. The shooter – older white guy – emptied his pistol into the vics, then sat down on the curb and waited for us to show. I never seen anything like it.”

  “Tommy, do you happen to have the names of the shooter and the male victim?”

  “Yeah, yeah, hold on.” O’Hey’s voice echoed in the background. “The male victim’s last name is Calder. Or Caldwell. Something like that. The shooter, he’s from out of state. Name’s Samuel Stanton.”

  The enormity of the news was so jarring it took me a few seconds to respond. “Hey, Tommy, I really appreciate the heads-up. I’ll let you get back to it.”

  “You got it, CP. Later.”

  Sarah’s jaw was still agape as she shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

  “I’ve got to contact James,” I said and placed the call.

  James’s voice rang out over the speaker. “Carter, glad you’re awake. I just got some news concerning our case that’s guaranteed to make the hair stand up on the back of your neck. You at your place?”

  “Yeah, we already heard. I’m here at the house with Sarah. Come on over,” I said and ended the call.

  “That poor man,” Sarah said. “He’ll likely spend the rest of his days in a federal penitentiary.”

  I tried to imagine myself in Samuel Stanton’s shoes. “He must have felt completely defeated by the loss of his wife then simply snapped. You hear about vigilante justice, but I don’t know of an example as traumatic as this one. It’s really sad.”

  “I know. I’ve never been a fan of an-eye-for-an-eye mentality because I think every shred of civility in our society would collapse. But if Franklin and Caldwell are responsible for all the crimes we think they are, and I were running things, I’d let Samuel Stanton go free.”

  I tossed my hands in the air. “Problem is, he’d still be without his wife.”

  Sarah frowned, the presence of her big heart shining through on her face. “Detective James will be here shortly. I’d better put some clothes on.”

  I downed my coffee, poured myself a refill, and started another pot, knowing James would be looking for a cup when he arrived. I leaned back against the kitchen counter for a short while, my brain in a virtual haze, unable to keep up. If I were more impulsive I probably would have picked up the phone and booked two tickets to Hawaii to escape the madness swirling around us.

  I stepped into the living room to grab my burner phone and shot a quick text to Stoney, hoping he’d quell our curiosity about Franklin’s financial records.

  The doorbell rang, and I let Detective James inside. “Welcome to the circus.”

  “That just about sums it up,” James said. We hashed out the latest shocking event in the case. “This is truly one for the books.”

  “No question about it. I was just contemplating picking up some tickets to a tropical island and disappearing for a few weeks.”

  “Please take me with you,” James responded.

  “Sure you don’t want to rethink that, Detective?” Sarah asked, walking in at the midpoint of our conversation.

  James flashed Sarah a cunning smile. “Nah. What could possibly go wrong?”

  “You do facetious real well,” she said while pouring herself a second cup. “We missed you last night.”

  James raised his eyebrows. “I’m really sorry about that, guys. You’re not going to believe the night I had. I’m running on about two hours of sleep right now.”

  “Sleep? I’m not familiar with that term,” I said as I poured James a cup and slid it over.

  James nodded. “Thanks, Carter. So, remember when you contacted me late yesterday afternoon and I took your call in the conference room to get a little privacy from Samuel Stanton? Well, apparently he’d been standing behind me longer than I thought. He ended up hearing most of our conversation.”

  I nodded. “He got the names of Franklin and Caldwell from our conversation and took matters into his own hands.”

  “Looks that way. That poor son-of-a-gun is toast,” James said.

  “Ugh. I can barely stand it,” Sarah said. “I wish there were something we could do for that poor man.�
�

  James looked up at Sarah and gave her a subtle nod. “Odds are ten to one that neither of those privileged shmucks would have faced a single minute of jail time. In fact, they were likely nothing more than small cogs connected to a very big machine. The one that controls the good-ole-boys’ club hard-working people like us will never belong to.”

  “I hate to say it, but I have to agree. However, it doesn’t change the fact that their scheme hurt a lot of people. I have every reason to believe that Franklin and Caldwell are guilty, and I’m confident the information we have will prove it.”

  Sarah put her hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know how to feel about all of this. It’s definitely not my place to pass judgement on another human being, guilty or not. But I’m so not okay with evil people running around killing others to serve their own greedy purposes, either. If Franklin and Caldwell did what we think they did, I’m not going to lose any sleep over their deaths. They ended up paying the ultimate price for their sins.”

  Chapter 27

  I was shocked to discover it was dark out as I got up off the couch. I headed into the kitchen to find out what Sarah was whipping up. We’d decided to do nothing but lay around the house, watching movies and catching up on some well-deserved down time. I remembered bits and pieces from several flicks we’d watched but figured I’d spent more time snoozing than viewing.

  “Well, hello there, Mr. Sleepy Head. Have a nice nap?”

  “I did. I can’t believe it’s nighttime already,” I replied. “What have you got going in here?”

  “Hungry? I made some spaghetti sauce.”

  “Sounds fantastic. I can’t think of anything I’d rather have right now.”

  “Boy, was that ever the right answer,” Sarah said. “Sounds like a little rest set you right. Dinner will be ready in five minutes.”

  I went back to the living room, turned on the evening news, and grabbed the burner phone I’d used to send Stoney a text. “Stoney got back to me about the source of those financial docs,” I called out as I scanned the message. I was about to walk back to the kitchen and share Stoney’s words when a news segment stopped me in my tracks. “Sarah, come quick,” I shouted.