Trevar's Team 2

by Kieran York

  “Probably. I know she doesn’t like trouble. She doesn’t really trust the law. Her family came from Cuba.”

  “And she isn’t about to turn over the security information that might show the killer of Pixy?”

  “There are influential people that play by the rules. And some make their own rules,” Cheryl blurted.

  “Cheryl, has she said anything to you about it?”

  “She doesn’t trust anyone. That includes neighbors. No, we talked briefly about how terrible it was. She said she hated to see crime in the area, but crime was everywhere.” Her sigh was exaggerated. I understood. “Look, I’m not saying Aubrey is a bad person. She’s just cautious.”

  “Any of your customer’s go out using the back door?”

  “Pixy. But no others. As I mentioned before, everyone parks their car on the side parking lot. Nobody walks through our kitchen and backroom to enter or exit. Sometimes one of the staff goes out. But we were all inside when Pixy left. Pixy was the exception. I allowed her to use the back door. She would go out the back to walk up the alley. No one thought anything of it.”

  “She always left through the back?”

  “Most of the time. She would go out the back if she wanted to catch a ride with one of the gals at the Palm’s Oyster Bistro. Barb or one of the servers would give her a lift from there. A couple times I’ve taken her out to some ratty dock.”

  “If you hear anything…”

  “I’ll let you know. It makes me nervous to think there’s a killer or killers out there. Hell, now when we close up, we all go out to our cars together.”

  I suddenly had the urge to give Aubrey Portilla one more shot at being a responsible crime-fighting citizen. When I opened the door into her shop, she looked up from the counter. One look at her sour glance in my direction, and I figured it would be a wasted stop.

  My mode of operation didn’t vary since I’d stopped being a defense attorney. Wearing down the witnesses was my staple. It very well might have been what overturned so many cases, and won so many cases in court. It was, perhaps, my best trait as a detective. Keep asking, rattle the witness, and sooner or later this thing called truth comes to the surface.

  “Hi, Aubrey,” I greeted her as if we were old pals.

  “Hello. Back again.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “I just wanted to make certain that you have checked your security equipment. Maybe found that it actually was on, and working the night a sweet young woman was bludgeoned to death.”

  “I do not have any information to give you. I have no information to give the police.”

  “I realize that,” I spoke as I leaned toward her, conspiratorially. “With your Cuban roots, I know if you could help to detect a killer in your new country, the United States of America, you would help.” I hesitated long enough for her gaze to shift. “After all, that’s why your family fought to get here. The land of freedom. As citizens, we have a responsibility to fight crime. I wouldn’t want to see this country to become corrupt like the old Cuba was. We’ve got to be vigilant. Each of us. We have a personal responsibility not to be indifferent about crime.”

  When her words came out, I knew that she knew who killed Pixy. And that she was terrified. “I can’t help you,” she blurted. It wasn’t an apathetic statement, it was self-defense. “I wish you would leave, and please don’t come back.”

  “It isn’t really a matter of helping me, or helping Chief Powers, or even helping Pixy. It’s a matter of helping to preserve the freedom of your family’s new country.” Her jaw was set tightly. She wasn’t even going to say goodbye to me. And that was fine. My words to her had been heard.

  Next time I visited her I would drop the name Ryder Hodges just to see her facial reaction. Glimpsing into her expression this visit had told me a great deal. She knew exactly what I needed to know. She had also been warned off.

  The Pixy case was as complicated as the Perrault murder. Both cases had their commonality with the other. Everyone seemed to know a little bit. Putting their knowledge into the thought barrel made it seem a swirling mess of a puzzle. It would take all of their knowledge to become an additive to the barrel and to be mixed in. Perhaps that would bring a resolution.

  At least it was what I was hoping.

  Once safely in my car, I began sorting texts and missed calls. As usual, I returned Rachel’s call first. She was the search engine, the hub of Trevar’s Team. Again, I considered what Summer and I would have done if Rachel hadn’t pulled through.

  “It’s me. What’s going on.”

  “Summer said to tell you that she’s talked with a couple of Ryder Hodge’s old high school classmates. Off the record. They don’t want to be interrogated. Summer said one of them alluded to sexual misconduct. And someone said his hobby was explosives.”

  “Where’s Summer now?”

  “She said if I talked to you before she did, to tell you that the two of you should meet at Silky’s for lunch.”

  “Can you let her know that I’m on my way. I’ll see her in fifteen.” I scouted the dial on my wristwatch.

  “Will do. I know she isn’t far from Silky’s now, so done deal.”

  When we disconnected, I wondered if there would ever be a time when I would just hang up after talking with Rachel and not feel complete gratitude.

  I drove at a good pace to Silky’s. Summer was chatting up one of the servers. When I sat, I asked, “What’s the news?”

  “One of our prime suspects had a little upset while in high school. He’d already been kicked out of the fancy military prep school for a similar accusation. Rape. But it wasn’t reported. Then his senior year, he was in West Palm. He pulled the same thing. It was reported, but immediately withdrawn. The woman wouldn’t testify. No case.”

  “Do you think there’s any chance of finding the West Palm woman?”

  “Her name is Luana Reed. Her dad has since become a high-ranking official with Hodges Land Development. She’s in California. In college. A college that her family could never have afforded before her father was given the job working for Hodges. Nobody from the girl’s family is talking.”

  “The Reed family will be drum tight. They’ve all signed confidentiality agreement contracts.” Of course, the Reeds would lose everything if they ever said a word about it.

  After we ordered, and our lunches were served, Summer hit her fist on the table. “Damn. This could be the break we need. And this Reed guy is pimping his raped daughter for his job.”

  I felt a sorrow. While I couldn’t understand the Reed decision, I recognized the signs of being bullied by wealth. Reed would have been placing his daughter into a situation where a battery of attorneys would be taking potshots at her reputation. The Reeds would be poor, helpless, and the family would be ridiculed. The family would be dishonored by the line of questioning that his daughter would be subjected to. His option was to shut up, take the bribe, and give his child a great college education. His family could also gain financially.

  “Take it easy, Summer,” I said as I touched her arm. “Rachel mentioned that she’s getting photos of Ryder and his friends. She’ll do a Facebook search. We need to know everything we can about everyone involved.” I paused. “What did the woman you talked with say about it?”

  “She said that Ryder had dosed the girl. The attorneys would have made her out to be a slut. Trying to entrap the wealthy kid. Her family opted to have charges dropped. Ryder got a get-out-of-jail-free card. The case went away. Ryder has no priors because no one will challenge him. And it looks like even if we get the goods on him, he’ll get lawyered up. Never set a foot in jail.”

  “The car bombing. You chased Ryder’s car.”

  “You and I both know that isn’t enough to put him away. If Evan were to testify, she didn’t see who set the bomb. It would be a weak attempted murder, even if I could I.D. him. And we’re completely out of luck on the rape case.”

  “I’d like to talk with Tom about it. See if he knows about
the dropped charges. However, since it wasn’t a Homicide, he probably knows nothing about it. For now, I’ll keep it that way.”

  “Tom,” Summer repeated. “Rachel chatted with Tom this morning. His new theory is that Glenda is having an affair with Drew Acherman. Acherman killed Perrault.”

  “First, I interrogated the butt off of Drew. He said he had a record. Up front. And he had an alibi. Two of the garden crew backed him. They were with him.”

  Summer shook her head. “Drew paid the guys to lie for him. They didn’t know what he was getting up to while Perrault was being killed and Rachel was nearly being killed.”

  “What?” I said loudly.

  “Drew just lost his truth credentials. One of his grounds workers messed up on the police interview. Got nervous and finally gave Drew up. Drew has no alibi.”

  “Damn! He’s back in the bad boy lineup.” I frowned. “And as for Tom’s guess, I can’t see Glenda putting out for someone like Drew. He’s not even her type.”

  “There are lots of ritzy women that like a little rough trade in their lives.”

  I hadn’t guessed Glenda to be one of them. “Not Glenda,” I argued.

  “Come on, Trev, give Tom his dues. He’s got to beat us out on something.”

  “You’re right. As long as we solve the crime. This is just a little deal. I don’t believe it.”

  I couldn’t get to my car fast enough. I drove directly back to the Perrault Mansion. Finding Drew wasn’t difficult. I spotted him near a bush of fluffy magnolias. “Why did you lie to me?” I asked as I pulled him around to face me.

  “I don’t have to answer to you.” His face was suddenly a mask of hatred. “And don’t you ever touch me again. Got it?”

  “You lied to me, and to the police. And you had your garden staff lie to me.”

  “Relax, I told Chief Power that I lied. He wanted polygraphs, and I didn’t want to put the workers through it. They’d covered for me because they knew I wouldn’t have killed Wendell.”

  “Relax yourself,” I spat as my anger accelerated. “Why the hell did you lie to me?”

  “I hadn’t wanted to be a suspect. I have a job. I’ve been clean. I didn’t want to go down for this crime when I didn’t do it. Why would I kill a guy when he was good to me?”

  “Money. Glenda.”

  I watched his face convert to a deep frown. He was gape-jawed with bewilderment. “Whose money? And what’s Glenda got to do with it?”

  “You answer my question. What does Glenda have to do with it?”

  “Nothing. If I’d been the shooter, why would I kill either of them. I didn’t like her much, but I liked Wendell. And he was crazy about her. So I sure as hell wouldn’t have hurt her. I had no motive.”

  The glare in my eyes made them feel like harsh lines. “You lied too easily to me about the garden staff.”

  “I thought you were on my side. That you kinda liked me. Unlike your girlfriend, Superwoman. You seemed reasonable.”

  “Summer is my business partner.”

  “She doesn’t like me.”

  “And you want me to believe Glenda doesn’t like you either?”

  “Glenda is my employer. Now that Wendell’s dead, she’ll probably fire my ass. She likes me less than Summer likes me.”

  “I doubt that.” Walking away, I repeated. “I doubt that.”

  As I stomped across the manicured lawns, I recounted the conversation. I was taking very little away from it. Other than the fact that I hadn’t eliminated one of the suspects that I thought had been removed from the suspect pool.

  I had no prime suspect for Wendell’s murder. I had a few possible candidates for the title. There was still Drew, Curtis, Ross, and Olga Carleton.

  Onus probani, the accuser has the burden of proof. Since I had no proof, I was completely out of accusations. I was on the trail of my best guess. And I’d faltered on that one a time or two in the past.

  I’d tenaciously continue on by irritating people, aggravating them, making them wriggle with red hot nerves, and I’d hope for an airtight case. That’s when a confession looks good to a perp.

  Chapter 13

  The Team hadn’t had an official morning recap since the day Rachel was shot. Although she was healing nicely, she stabilized her actions by wearing a sling. It kept her shoulder and ribcage from being too mobile for their own good. Her lung and wounded areas still required her cooperation. That didn’t prevent her from meeting in our official conference stateroom. We planned to meet there.

  With its large oak table, the room was our war room. We had meetings with our clients, and it was meant to be a special place for the three of us. I was mildly irritated, okay – I was pissed big time. Dr. Hanna Zachary had pulled up a chair and plopped herself down.

  Summer was never at her most congenial mornings. She barked, “Hanna, don’t you have sick people to take care of?”

  Rachel wasn’t miffed, but she certainly felt the need to cover for her sweetheart. “I thought it would be nice for Hanna to see our day to day operations. In action.” Rachel was flustered. She always chained her additional words together to take up the slack of silence. “How we work a case.” Rachel opened her file. “So, I’ll take care of calls, and duties here with control central. Work on any leads, or anything you two find out in the field.”

  Summer cleared her throat. “I’m planning to shadow Ryder and Javier. If I can locate them. I’m waiting for a mistake. Some misstep.”

  I spoke up, “I’m planning to check at Perrault Cosmetics to see if anyone knows anything. Then maybe retrace Pixy’s final day. I’ll begin checking in on Lefty.”

  “Planning to call Evan?” Rachel questioned.

  “Yes, I miss her,” I curtly replied. “And I certainly don’t blame her for getting away from murder and mayhem.” My head sagged. “Damn, she almost died.”

  Hanna butted in with her bossiness. “Beryl, it wasn’t your fault that someone planted a bomb in her car.”

  My eyes narrowed, I could feel my blood pressure racing. “I didn’t say it was my fault.”

  “But, I’m just saying that you probably feel some culpability…” Hanna’s voice stuttered to a stop.

  I turned my chair toward her. “I feel no culpability. I don’t build bombs to kill innocent witnesses.”

  “That’s fine,” Hanna shrugged. “If you need to talk…”

  I interrupted, “I don’t need to talk. If I do, I’ll talk with my partners.”

  Rachel quickly spurt out a defense on the doctor’s behalf. “Trev, Hanna is only trying to help.”

  “If she knows who killed Wendell Perrault and Pixy, and how to prove their guilt, that would help.”

  Hanna stood, “Rachel, this was a terrible idea. I have things to do at the hospital. And I’m clearly not wanted here.” She stormed out.

  Rachel leaned nearer the table. “Are you two satisfied? She saved my life. I’m trying to show her what that life is all about. She’s trying to be nice to you two.”

  “Sorry, Rach,” I apologized. “We’ve got two cases that need solving. I’m not in a sociable mood.”

  Rachel leaned back. “Okay, let’s take a glance at the Perrault homicide. There’s the police department’s consensus. Chief Powers has the idea Drew Acherman might be involved. The two of you think otherwise.”

  “Rach. Who do you believe the perp is?” Summer questioned.

  “Acherman did lie about his whereabouts. And he’s got a rap sheet. Glenda and Drew could have planned it,” Rachel answered.

  I shrugged. “Drew told me that he just wanted to stay out of trouble. He knew if he didn’t have an alibi, he would be a suspect.”

  “So, he got a couple workers to perjure themselves. And by the way, Tom isn’t going to charge any of them for the lie. He said the courts were to jammed up now, this was a minor thing. He doesn’t want to scare anyone off. He’s pretty certain Drew is implicated.”

  “Rachel, that brings us to Drew’s motive,” I dueled. “I
t could implicate Glenda. Or the mob hired Drew because maybe Wendell crossed them. Or one of Wendell’s competitors. Maybe a competitor hated Perrault’s eyeliners. Wagged some money in front of the gardener.”

  Summer sided with Rachel. “I think Drew’s guilty as hell about something. I don’t think he’s completely forthcoming. He’s attractive in a rough and tumble way. Maybe Glenda was having an affair with him. In fact, maybe Glenda seduced Drew because she wanted to take over the company. She wanted him to be the hitman. Wendell found out about the affair, so the twosome killed him.”

  I countered, “I haven’t seen any chemistry.”

  Summer argued, “Glenda is a spokesperson for a cosmetic company. When she’s televised, she goes on and on about the product. She practically has an orgasm over the flipping face cream. Maybe she has everyone fooled.”

  Rachel and I began laughing at the same time. Rachel held her side. “Don’t make me laugh. My ribs still ache.”

  I muttered, “Look, I don’t see how it translates from face cream enthusiasm to pretending not to love the grimy gardener. In fact, Summer,” I said with a glare, “he says she hates him almost as much as you hate him.”

  She flexed her muscles and returned my scowl. “She does not hate him as much as I do. Not possible. I don’t trust him. Yeah, he’s got a little charm. He could be banging the boss.”

  My head lifted. “Summer, can’t you say ‘seduced’ rather than banging the boss?”

  I heard Pluma repeating, “Banging the boss. Banging the boss.” For about twenty seconds we waited to see if the parrot was going to continue. Just as Rachel’s mouth opened, Pluma cut out with a string of tangled lyrics. Banging the boss. Banging the putas.”

  I asked, “Anything more on Doc Rhodes, or Ross Milton?”

  “Nada,” Summer uttered.

  “I haven’t got anything else on them,” I said. “I did ask Officer Timoteo to check on Olga and Rex Carleton’s police son.”

  Rachel glowered. I knew she would protect the honor of the force. “The guy’s a cop. He probably wasn’t going to risk his job and pension over his crazy mother’s cosmetic mishap. She lost a court case. Or actually didn’t get as much as she wanted. But the case was bogus. Her kid probably doesn’t want any part of her. He moved to Miami,” she defended.