A Girl Betrayed (A Leah Mason suspense thriller Book 2)

by Russell Blake

  “I know. Which is a violation of procedure. But that kind of thing happens all the time. Cop’s in a hurry, it’s cold, the guy’s a jumper, case closed. I don’t have to struggle to imagine the scenario.”

  “Is there any way to do a search?”

  “I can hand it over to my contact at the credit bureau and see what he can find. But I’m burning a lot of favors…”

  “Which I can’t thank you enough for, Adam,” Leah said, rising.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “I want to run into San Francisco and take a look at the condo.”

  “Why?”

  “All part of my process. I like to be thorough,” she answered, wincing a little at the nonanswer. The truth was she had no reason to go look at it other than a gut feeling that something was off – something she couldn’t have explained if she’d tried.

  “How late do you think you’ll be?”

  “Oh, Adam, I don’t know. It’s going to be rush hour both directions. I’ll probably head home from there.”

  Adam nodded, disappointment in his eyes. “Okay, then. See you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks again for everything, Adam. It’s a huge help.”

  “No problem,” he replied, but his tone sounded glum.

  Leah called Heather from the car. “Did you know that Richard had a place in San Francisco?”

  “What?” Heather blurted. “What do you mean, a place?”

  “A condo. A rental.”

  A hesitation. “No. How did you find out?”

  “I did. That’s what’s important. He never mentioned it?”

  “I said no,” Heather snapped, sounding annoyed.

  “What is it, Heather?”

  “The insurance rep came. The policy is valid, but he says they need to investigate before they can make a payout. I asked him what there was to investigate – the case has been splashed all over the paper and the internet. He said it’s company policy. Sounds like they’re going to try to stall as long as possible. Figures.”

  “I’m sorry, Heather. But you’ll get the money?”

  “It looks that way. Just not soon.”

  “Did he give you any idea how long it will take?”

  “No. He wasn’t very friendly.”

  “I guess if you have to pay out five million dollars you never thought you’d be on the hook for, it could be a mood killer.”

  “I suppose. It just wasn’t what I was expecting.”

  “Look at the bright side. You have enough to last you a while, and then this coming in eventually. It could be worse.”

  Heather exhaled. “I just can’t believe Richard screwed me over like this.”

  “Well, you can’t undo it. But the insurance kind of makes up for it, doesn’t it?”

  “Most of it,” she admitted. “But I’m still going to have to sell the house once I pay off the second. I can’t afford a huge payment every month. So it’s bye-bye, Atherton.”

  Leah thought for a moment. “Did the police give you back Richard’s vehicle and personal effects?”

  “Yes. The truck is in the garage.”

  “And Richard’s keys?”

  “Of course. I had to go to San Francisco and pick the Range Rover up in the impound lot. Couldn’t have driven it home without the keys.”

  “Can you take a look at them and see if there are any you can’t place?”

  “Sure. Just a second.” Heather returned a minute later. “Let’s see. Porsche, Range Rover, house, office…hmmm. Two I don’t recognize.”

  “Can you meet me somewhere on the peninsula with those keys? I’m headed into San Francisco, but I can jog south and meet up with you.”

  “I suppose. What are you hoping you’ll find at this condo?”

  “Maybe a clue as to where your money went. And…Patrick’s file. If he had it, it might be there.”

  “You think that might be important?”

  “At this point, I have no idea. But remember his car exploded and you never saw him again. That might have something to do with it.”

  Heather cleared her throat. “Can you make it to San Bruno? It’s by the airport.”

  “Sure. Text me when you’re there and let me know where to meet you.”

  “Okay. It’ll probably take me about forty-five minutes.”

  Leah checked the time. “I’ll be at least that long. Congratulations again on the insurance.”

  “Congratulate me when they actually cut a check. And it’s not that much money after I pay off the house. Between the first and second mortgages, that will burn almost all of it.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” Leah said, trying to be upbeat. “I have to concentrate on driving. Text me.”

  “Will do.”

  Leah shook her head at Heather’s attitude. She’d just won the lottery, and she was unhappy with the payout. Leah tried to imagine what having five million would be like, and couldn’t. And yet her friend obviously felt it wasn’t enough.

  She supposed that for some people, no matter what they had, it was never enough, which struck her as sad. Heather was still young, she was healthy, beautiful, and was now rich by most people’s standards, yet she felt she’d gotten screwed by life. It made no sense to Leah, but then again, it wasn’t her problem. Heather would have to figure out how to fill the hole in her soul, and if five million didn’t do it, Leah suspected no number would.

  Leah reminded herself that her friend had just lost her husband and to cut her some slack, but it was difficult with someone who was so unsympathetic a character. Still, she was a friend, and Leah stuck by her friends, even if they kind of sucked sometimes.

  She just hoped that when the shoe was on the other foot, they would do the same.

  Somehow she doubted it, but that was just her mood as she rolled toward the Bay Bridge, crawling along in a clog of traffic that was barely moving at walking speed.

  Chapter 37

  Leah met Heather at a fast-food restaurant on El Camino Real and took Richard’s two mystery keys from her, and then turned around to work her way back into San Francisco, against the flow of the traffic that gridlocked the city’s thoroughfares until evening. The more she thought about the file Patrick had been looking for, the more convinced she was that it might be material – to what, she wasn’t sure, but if it had been important enough to Richard to keep, and Patrick was willing to intrude in a widow’s mourning to inquire about it, it had to be something significant. Her journalist’s antennae were quivering now, and they’d never been wrong yet. Whatever was afoot, there might actually be a story here, and she would get to the bottom of it – that was what she woke up every morning to do, and once she had the scent of a scoop, there was no holding her back.

  She arrived at the condo as the light was going out of the sky and fog was rolling beneath the Golden Gate and seeping across the bay. The building was near Nob Hill, with breathtaking city light and bay views, and the neighborhood had the genteel feel of old money. She circled the block until she found a parking place a hundred yards away on a steep grade, and shut off the engine with the parking brake locked in place.

  By the time she made it up the hill to the building, she was winded and her calves were aching from the effort – a reminder of her frequent resolutions to start working out again that she never quite seemed to find the time to follow through on. She stood at the entry of the building, catching her breath, and a pair of sketchy-looking characters carrying duffels pushed out the condo door and brushed past her, the taller of the two nearly knocking her over.

  “Hey,” she protested, and the tall man glared at her from over his shoulder with such intensity that it chilled her blood. They continued without slowing toward a dark-colored van that was idling further up the hill, and as they approached, the brake lights flashed. A moment later the side door slid open with a screech and the men tossed their duffels in the back and disappeared into the cargo area, and then the van roared away in a cloud of exhaust.

  Leah approach
ed the lobby door and tried the keys. The second one slid into place and she twisted the deadbolt and pulled the glass slab open.

  The lobby area was small, and a quick glance at the directory showed twenty condos in the building. Number 3B, the unit on Richard’s credit report, had no name beside it, and Leah took a photo of it with her phone. She moved to the elevator and pressed the up button, and after several moments, the door opened with a whoosh and she stepped inside.

  Leah exited the elevator at the third floor and walked down the wide hall, the polished granite slabs on the floor and recessed ceiling lighting lending it a posh feel. She stopped at the unit marked B, slipped the second key into the lock, and twisted the bronze handle. The lock opened and she edged into the foyer, feeling on the wall for a light switch as she pulled the door closed behind her.

  Her fingers found a switch, and she flipped it on. The corridor and the room beyond it brightened. She continued into the condo and then froze at the sight of the living room floor covered with emptied-out drawers and the contents of the bookcases.

  “Crap,” she muttered, and picked her way through the detritus toward one of the two open doorways at the other end of the room. She felt for a switch inside the first doorway and flicked the lights on, only to find an office that had been systematically ransacked, every piece of paper and file strewn about the floor. Leah took ginger steps into the room and stooped down to lift a framed print whose back had been slit and torn apart, her eyes taking in the destruction with practiced calm.

  She walked to an electric outlet that had been unscrewed and left hanging by its wires from the wall, and saw that all the outlets were in the same shape. A glance overhead revealed that whoever had searched the place had even dismantled the light fixture and tossed the cover in a corner.

  The bedroom had received the same treatment, including the mattress, which had been cut open and gutted, the stuffing thrown everywhere. In the bathroom, the toilet tank cover was lying on the floor, and the drawers had been dropped into the shower, and even the mirror had been removed from the wall and had part of the backing peeled off.

  The kitchen was a disaster, with the cupboards emptied on the floor and the baseboards beneath the cabinets ripped out. The refrigerator had been pulled from its cavity and dismantled, so it was little more than an empty husk, the compressor sitting on one of the counters and the plastic forms of the door and interior hacked open, exposing the polystyrene between them and the metal exterior.

  Two minutes later Leah had wiped every surface she’d touched clean with a paper towel from the kitchen, and was exiting the apartment, her expression troubled. When she was outside the building, she dialed Heather and, when she answered, spoke in a hushed voice.

  “When the FBI searched Richard’s office, how did they leave it?”

  “I…I’m not sure I understand. They took just about everything that wasn’t bolted down, and gave me an itemized list.”

  “Did they tear the place apart?”

  “No. Why would they?” Heather paused. “Why, Leah? What did you find in the condo?”

  “Someone destroyed the place. They dismantled everything and demolished the cabinets, mirrors, you name it.”

  “That…why would they do that?”

  “Obviously, they were looking for something. But this doesn’t look like the same treatment as his office got. When you talked to the junior partner, did they say anything about leaving his office a shambles?”

  “No. Just that they searched it and confiscated a bunch of paperwork and his computer.” Heather hesitated a long beat. “You don’t think it was the FBI?”

  “I don’t know what to think. I mean, there’s no crime scene tape or anything. And I can’t believe that they’d do so much damage to everything. It looks like thousands of dollars of carpentry is ruined.”

  “Did you take pictures?”

  “Yeah. Of the whole place. But…Heather, I have a bad feeling about this. Do you have an alarm at your house?”

  “Of course. Why? You think…you think I might be in danger?”

  “Probably not, between the alarm and Brutus.”

  “You’re scaring me, Leah. I’m all alone here…”

  “Is there any place you can go for a few days that would take a dog? A pet-friendly hotel or something?”

  “Are you kidding me? This is California. There’s no such thing.” Heather fell silent for a few seconds. “Now you’ve got me totally freaked out, Leah.”

  “How about your parents?”

  “I can’t intrude on them, Leah. Not with everything they’re dealing with.”

  Leah sighed. “If you don’t mind cramped quarters, you can hang out at my place for a few days. There’s a motel right down the street I can stay at. Just until I figure out what’s going on.”

  “I can’t boot you out of your place, Leah.”

  “I’m hardly ever there. I gather Brutus is housebroken?”

  “Of course. But you have to let me pay for the hotel. Seriously. This is way above and beyond.”

  “I won’t fight you on that. You have something to write with? I’ll give you the address. It’s in Concord. And Heather? It’s cute, but it’s nothing special, so don’t expect anything like what you’re used to.”

  “Let me throw some things in a bag and pack Brutus’s dish and food and stuff. I can leave in…fifteen minutes, tops.”

  “Okay. But you’re probably fine at your house.”

  “The difference between probably and definitely is what has me worried. I mean, they blew up his frigging Porsche, assuming that wasn’t an accident. I’m not sure I feel all that lucky right now.” Heather paused. “They really wrecked the place?”

  “I’ll email you the photos. It isn’t pretty.”

  Another pause. “Leah? Thanks for doing this.”

  “Don’t sweat it. A day or two in a hotel won’t kill me, and being out of your house might be good for you. A lot of memories there.”

  “Yeah. Even though I know what a rat bastard he was, the place feels empty with just me here.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you in a while. I’ll text when I’m leaving.”

  “See you when I see you.”

  Leah had thought about volunteering to stay with her in Atherton, but if the same people who had torn up the condo were going to do the same to the house next, it was probably best if nobody was there. Let the police deal with the alarm going off, with Heather at a safe distance.

  She walked back to her car, her face creased with a frown, the idea that there might be real risk involved in pursuing the story convincing her that there had to be something big she was missing. If, and it was still an if, someone had tried to kill Richard by blowing up his car, the question was, why?

  Would Patrick kill to recover some file? Was it possible Richard had been blackmailing him? Was that what the file was – some sort of dossier he’d threatened to make public? Maybe something criminal Patrick was involved in?

  She unlocked her door and sat behind the wheel, and a mental image of the thug who’d nearly bowled her over with the duffel popped into her thoughts. Leah shuddered involuntarily and swallowed a knot that had formed in her throat.

  “What have I gotten myself into?” she whispered, and then started the engine, suddenly anxious to be rid of Nob Hill. The barrier of the bay and the bridge between Concord and San Francisco had slim comfort to offer if her instinct of impending danger was right.

  Chapter 38

  Concord, California

  Heather arrived at 8:00 p.m., Brutus in tow and two suitcases in hand. Leah had already packed an overnight bag with her hygiene kit and enough clothes for a couple of days, and had spent the rest of the time before Heather’s arrival tidying up, which wasn’t hard given that she still hadn’t unpacked half her meager possessions. Leah spent most of her days at work or on the road, and really only saw her apartment a few hours per week other than to sleep, which was why she didn’t min
d allowing her friend to stay there – a hotel wouldn’t be all that much different than where she was living, and it would have maid service to boot.

  Brutus’s ears stood straight up when he saw Leah from the bottom of the stairs, and he whined all the way up, his bottom wiggling like he was in a conga line. Leah smiled at the big dog when he reached the landing and knelt to pet him, receiving a series of slurps from his wide tongue as a reward.

  Leah stood and offered a hand to Heather. “Let me grab one of those,” she said, indicating a suitcase. Heather gratefully passed her one and Leah made a face. “What have you got in this? Bowling balls?”

  “You got me so worried, I packed everything of value I could. I don’t want to take any chances if someone breaks in,” Heather said.

  “There’s a pretty slim chance that would happen,” Leah said. “I think I might have overstated the risk.”

  “No, I’ve been thinking all the way up here. I’ve pretended that whatever Richard was up to didn’t involve me, but with the FBI searching our house, and now those pictures of the apartment…what if the car blowing up wasn’t an accident? What if someone wanted to kill Richard? Wouldn’t I be next in line?”

  The corners of Leah’s mouth pulled downward and she shook her head. “What would killing you accomplish? Think about it. You haven’t done anything. You don’t even know what Richard was involved in that got the feds onto him. Don’t get all worked up over nothing, Heather. I know you. You’ll fixate on this and make it a certainty. It isn’t. I just suggested you leave on the off chance someone wants into your place, that’s all. It doesn’t mean it’s likely. Just that there’s a small chance it might happen.”

  “Neither of us knows how small, though, because we don’t have the faintest idea what Richard was doing. That’s the problem,” Heather said. “Besides, I got to thinking about firing Ramon. I haven’t changed the locks. What if he sells his key to someone? Or decides to get even?” She sighed. “I know I should have, but with everything else going on, I just forgot. I’ll deal with it tomorrow – I can drive down during the day and have a locksmith come out. But you see my point?”