Blind Retribution

by K. T. Roberts

  “How did she know where you’d gotten the money?”

  “Actually, she was the one who’d suggested it. She knew I was frantic with worry about Stacy, and . . . well, the rest is history. When they came knocking on my door, I told the State Bar the truth about why I did it. Even though they knew I’d already paid the money back, they didn’t care and told me I was lucky that I was only getting suspended and not a jail sentence.” He shrugged again. “Hey, I deserved it. That’s why I accepted my punishment and made lemonade out of a bad situation. I took the test for private investigator.” He looked over at her. “Did I ruin things between us?”

  Cory’s comment tugged on her heartstrings. Knowing he was a responsible person told her he was the kind of man she wanted in her life. The kind of man who wasn’t afraid of owning up to his mistakes, a man who bared his soul and made her feel like she was the center of his universe. And above all, he treated her as his equal. That told her he knew who he was and didn’t need to bully anyone to make himself feel better. “Not at all. In fact, I like you more, because I admire a man for telling the truth and taking his punishment with dignity and grace.”

  “Thank you.”

  Cory turned onto Perry Street. “You can drop me off anywhere on the street and I’ll walk to my apartment. Trying to find a parking space is out of the question.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Cory said with furrowed brows. “I’m not letting you walk to your apartment. What kind of guy do you think I am?”

  She chuckled. “It’s really okay, Cory.” She patted him on the shoulder. “It’s no big deal.”

  “Well, it is to me. I’m old school,” he said and whipped right into a space that was just freeing up. “How about that?” he said. “The gods must be on my side tonight.”

  “I’ll say. Maybe we should be going to Harrah’s in Atlantic City instead of calling it a night.”

  “I don’t always have this much luck. It must be because you let me take you to dinner.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” she teased. “I have magical powers.” She winked at him.

  He cut the engine. “You do indeed. You’re my lady luck.”

  Max pulled her keys from her purse, and Cory walked her to the door. She inserted a key into the lock and opened the door. “You’re sure you don’t want to come inside?”

  “Thanks, but maybe another time. I don’t want to forget I’m a gentleman.”

  Max couldn’t stop smiling. She was bowled over by his charm and respect for her. “Thank you for a wonderful evening. I really had a good time.”

  “Me too.” He pulled her into a tight hold and kissed her again. “Good night, my sweet angel.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Cory Rossini couldn’t wipe the smile off his face the next morning when he slid into his beat-up old Honda Accord. He didn’t even mind the early snowfall that had hit New York with a vengeance. He inserted the key into the ignition of his car and cranked up the engine, revving it until he could no longer see his breath, then backed out of his garage and headed for Broadway, slowly easing his way into the traffic. Snow in the city was a major inconvenience, but right now, he didn’t care because he couldn’t stop thinking about Max Turner and how much he was beginning to care for her. He shook his head. Last night had proved it. She was one fiery chick and just the kind of woman he wanted—an equal partner. A woman who made him work hard to gain her respect. He didn’t have any problems with that. None whatsoever. He’d been afraid he wouldn’t be able to undo that God-awful first meeting, but that was a thing of the past, and he couldn’t wait to see her again.

  Watching the snowfall cover his windshield, his thoughts turned to Jack and his lies. Shaking his head in confusion, he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. What the hell was going on with him that he’d lied to the detective who had the proof to back it up? Then, his argument with Helen, with more witnesses who swore they’d heard him threaten to kill her.

  Exiting the car, he released his frustration, his breath rising in the air like a steady puff of smoke. With all that he’d heard about Jack, he wondered why he was even trying to free him. He truly wanted to believe Jack, especially after his longtime friend had assured him he was innocent. Cory had believed every word Jack had said, yesterday. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

  And if Cates was Jack’s court-appointed attorney, he suddenly understood why Jack had used his one phone call to contact him instead of hiring an attorney. It sounded as though Jack was having financial problems. If that was the case, why hadn’t he told Cory?

  Tension filled him. He intended to find out all this information the next time he visited Jack.

  Cory shivered when he exited the car and wished he’d dressed for winter. He massaged his frozen fingers, which felt as though they’d fall off any minute, and flexed them a few times, trying to get the blood to circulate. Wrapping the scarf tighter around his neck, he quickened his pace and headed for the warm building, wondering why he’d felt it necessary to come to the library instead of checking the New York Times society page in the comfort of his home to find out who Barrett’s friends were. The truth was, he liked knowing he could get it done quicker and without interruption in the library because he had to shut off his phone. When he was working on something this important, he preferred complete silence because it forced him to focus.

  Cory knew some of Barrett’s friends from the country club, but wasn’t sure of the others in the circle. Questioning them would start his investigation. During the timeframe Jack was involved with Helen, he had shared many stories with Cory about the other side of Jeffrey Barrett’s personality and how badly he’d treated his wife.

  Cory remembered Barrett being obnoxious in high school, and it appeared nothing had changed in his adult life. Cory reminded himself that leopards never change their spots. He shook his head, remembering the many times Barrett had displayed his pure rudeness. It made his stomach tighten. It was no secret that Cory was no fan of Barrett’s, but hearing about the guy continually belittling Helen in public, even showing up drunk at a function where she was being honored for her volunteer work in the community, made him suspicious. Why Helen had suddenly decided to forgive the jerk and stay with him was indeed a real mystery. If these so-called friends of the Barretts had witnessed any of those incidents, he prayed one of them would be willing to talk to him about it so he could convince Max to check out what he’d been saying all along—Jeffrey Barrett killed his wife.

  Cory spent a few hours jotting down the names from the Times society and style pages that mentioned the Barretts. He contacted only a few because there’d be no way he could talk to all of them, and unfortunately, he didn’t have their phone numbers, which were probably unlisted. Olivia Nolo was the first on his list. According to the article, she was Helen’s best friend. He remembered Nolo from the country club, but he’d never spoken to her.

  Cory shuddered when he thought about the horrific way Helen Barrett had died. He truly believed Jeffrey was responsible. He’d never known the man to be clever, but if he had come up with a murder scheme this good—one in which no one would ever suspect him because they knew how he felt about his damn car—he deserved a gold medal. But was it foolproof? Not as far as he was concerned. Now, if he could just convince Max that Barrett had more of a motive to kill Helen than Jack did.

  “Nolo residence.”

  “Good afternoon, my name is Cory Rossini. I’m a private investigator working with the NYPD on the Barrett homicide and wondered if I might speak to Mrs. Nolo.” He could hear voices in the background. It wasn’t long before a different voice came on the line.

  “This is Olivia Nolo. How can I help you?” Cory repeated his conversation. “Sure, you can come over, but I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

  “Anything you can tell me will be a big help. I’m in the city, about thirty to forty minutes south of you. May I leave now and come to your home?”

  “Certainly. See you soon.”

  Cory reali
zed that saying he was working with the police was a surefire way of gaining admittance to people’s homes. For a second he felt a pang of guilt over telling a fib, but he pushed the thought aside. Cory wondered whether she’d tell him what he wanted to know, especially since her husband, Steven was also a doctor who worked at Mount Sinai with Jeffrey. He was sure Helen’s best friend would know all of Helen’s deep dark secrets, and chances were she’d find it hard to believe Dr. Barrett didn’t kill his wife. At least that’s what he was hoping.

  Although the air was crisp outside, the sun shone through the cloudy sky and glistened like diamonds atop the fresh snow on the sides of the roadway. The thought of Max breezed through his mind, and the way they seemed to click last night. After their first two disastrous meetings, he’d never expected her to react to him the way she had, and now, he couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about a future with her. He sighed and warned himself he was jumping the gun. They barely knew one another.

  Leaving the city, Cory headed for 9A north toward Riverdale, an area once known as a residential area for upper middle class. That was no longer the case. Now, it reeked of money with estate-like mansions. Although the mansions were set back, a few were visible through the bare trees that would later turn into a lush green landscape with the onset of spring. Cory wasn’t surprised so many of Barrett’s friends lived here. Even with the snow falling, the drive was pleasant, a nice respite from the Midtown gridlock. He grinned as he took it all in until the annoying voice on his GPS squawked that he’d reached his destination. He pulled into a short driveway with a call box and a decorative black wrought-iron gate trimmed in gold. A gold coat of arms hung on each side of the gate. Cory pushed the button and awaited a response.

  “How can I help you?” a voice with a deep timbre echoed through the speaker.

  “Good morning. This is private investigator Cory Rossini here to see Mrs. Nolo. She’s expecting me.”

  The gates opened and Cory drove up a long tree-covered road toward the home. Behind the massive trees, a huge plantation-style home appeared in the clearing, with large white columns and black shutters. Cory suddenly wished his car weren’t so junky. He intentionally parked behind some trees so that it was out of sight and cut the engine before slowly walking to the entrance and pressing on the doorbell.

  A woman in a white uniform greeted him, pulling the door open for his entry. She called out to her boss. It wasn’t long before Olivia Nolo descended the stairs, wearing a Nike outfit as if she was ready to do some serious exercising. Her long dark auburn hair was pinned to the top of her head, exposing a slightly average-looking face. There was nothing special about her body shape. He figured she hadn’t yet hit the plastic surgeon circuit. A rolled-up purple mat in her hand told him she was probably heading out for a yoga class.

  She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and greeted him. The minute she spoke, he understood why their home looked like a plantation. She had a thick southern drawl. Funny he hadn’t picked up on that during their phone conversation. “How may I help you?” she asked.

  “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  She led the way to the sun parlor, a room that was encased in glass with tall planters scattered throughout giving it a tropical feel and helping one to forget that the glass enclosure was covered with snow. She gestured for him to sit on the sofa. “Now, what’s this about?”

  “I’d just like to ask you a few questions about your friendship with Mrs. Barrett.”

  “Sure. She was my best friend. I already knew Helen, but my husband met Jeffrey after, when he interviewed Steven to fill a vacancy on his transplant team.”

  “And how did you meet Mrs. Barrett?”

  “We met at The Little Tykes Academy, a small preschool.” Mrs. Nolo gave a shake of her head. “She started that school after finding out she couldn’t have children.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware of that.”

  “Well, it’s not something people broadcast, Mr. Rossini,” she answered gruffly. Looking down at her jacket, she flicked something off with her forefinger. “Anyway, I’d been looking for a volunteer job to work with children. Since I had a degree in education and heard she was staffing, I applied and got the position. That’s also how we found out our husbands were both at Cornell Med. It didn’t take long for us to become fast friends. I loved Helen as much as I could love any sister.” She wiped a tear from her eye.

  “Were you aware she was seeing Jack Hughes?”

  “What kind of question is that?” she asked with a frown. “Of course I was.”

  “What did you think about their relationship?” Cory asked, rubbing his hand across his chin.

  “It wasn’t for me to say. It was what Helen needed at the time. She was a big girl, Mr. Rossini, and didn’t need her friend chastising her for living her life.” Her expression turned melancholy.

  She continued. “But Jack had a short fuse when he didn’t get his way, and she put up with it.”

  “Can you elaborate on that?”

  “She was willing to do anything to fill the void left by Jeffrey’s selfish ways and large ego.”

  Cory squared his shoulders, pangs of anger pounding inside him after hearing her comment. If Jack knew he’d been classified as a fill-in, he’d kill Jeffrey with his bare hands, but Cory saw no reason to share that information with him.

  “How well do you know Jeffrey Barrett?” Cory asked.

  “Jeffrey? He’s always been like a brother to me. There were times I wasn’t in his corner because of the way he treated Helen, but honestly, something happened, and if you could have seen him all aglow the night of their reception, you would have seen his sincerity. I was so happy to see Helen experience the bliss she’d wanted for so long.” She bit down on her lip then continued, anger seeping into her tone. “The bliss that was taken away from her by that monster, Jack Hughes—” She took in a deep breath and released it.

  “Jack didn’t do this,” Cory defended.

  Olivia Nolo’s lips pursed. Rising swiftly from her seat, she cut the interview short. “I think it’s time for you to leave,” she countered, and then called out to her maid. “Please show our guest out.”

  Cory rose from his seat feeling angry she was supporting Jeffrey. If the rest of Barrett’s circle of friends felt the same way she did, Jack didn’t stand a chance, and unfortunately, Barrett was sure to have more of them on his side than Jack would.

  Determined to find someone who was willing to spill the beans, Cory headed for Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, an area that was chockful of small-town charm with quaint streets, similar to a waterfront resort that catered to families. Seeing signs for Owl’s Head Park brought back warm memories of his entire family spending time there during the spring and summer months. He’d have to remember to put Bay Ridge on his list of things to do with Max. He was sure she’d already been there, but she hadn’t been there with him.

  Cory spent the remainder of the afternoon contacting the other names on his list of Barrett’s friends, confident that one of them would reveal something that would help Jack’s case. That never happened. By four o’clock, tired and disappointed, Cory finally decided to give up and head back to the city.

  Cory got into his car, turned over the engine, and thought of Max. He knew speaking to her would help his lousy mood after his search for a defense for Jack had failed. Reaching for his phone, the familiar ring chimed for an incoming call. When he saw her name flash across the screen, it brought a wide smile to his face. He clicked onto the call.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  “What the hell are you trying to do?” her voice screeched through the receiver. “I’ve been getting complaints all fucking day from Barretts’ friends that you’ve been harassing them. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, you made it sound as though I sent you. You have some nerve using the NYPD’s name.”

  “I merely said I was working with the NYPD—and I am, so to speak. They didn’t need to know in what capacity or that we’re on opposi
te ends of the spectrum.”

  “Stay the hell out of my way,” she fired back. “If you use my name, the department’s name, or any form of the NYPD again, I’ll be forced to seek legal recourse.”

  He couldn’t believe she was reaming him out again, especially after the kind of day he’d had. His temper flared, and he shot right back: “Listen, Max, I’ve had a bad day today, but more importantly, did you honestly think I’d stop trying to free an innocent man just because we had dinner? And for the record, I wasn’t harassing them. I have every right to investigate your witnesses the same way you do mine. You’re making this personal.” He heard her huff out air. “I’m beginning to think that maybe our intuition about each other was right the first time around.” He disconnected the call and tossed his phone on the seat.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Julie Shelton stirred the tomato sauce simmering on the stove while the twins set the table in anticipation of Aunt Max’s arrival. Resting the wooden spoon inside the empty puree can, now half filled with water, she turned to sit down at the kitchen table. She leafed through the family photographs, looking for a picture of their mother on this twentieth anniversary of her death. Julie stopped when she found a photo taken in front of the fieldstone fireplace in the living room of the small bungalow where they were raised, the monster adoptive father’s face cut out of the picture. Even though his face was gone, the painful memories still remained.

  The memories flooded through her mind, sharp and painful. A rush of guilt tightened in her chest over not realizing that Max was also being abused. A tear rolled down her cheek as she remembered how she thought that keeping her mouth shut about what he was doing to her meant she was protecting Max. Even Max’s slight bruising hadn’t been a signal, because it was always explained away as her frequent clumsiness. It wasn’t until Max had found the courage to confide in one of her girlfriends, Ellen Summerfield, that their stepfather’s secret was revealed. Ellen had told her mother, and Mrs. Summerfield had orchestrated their escape. As the older sister, Julie always felt she should have known something was wrong. That she didn’t would haunt her forever.