Mary's ability to lie so credibly was worrisome. I needed solid reference points before I could figure out how to deal with her. A background check on her might help. So far, I resisted the urge to order one.
I was hesitant because I already found enough red flags to worry me. I was afraid of what the report might reveal. I was happier than I remembered being in a long time, thanks to Mary.
Discovering that she presented an unacceptable risk would be hard to take. Keeping my head buried in the sand was a more appealing option. If she were a threat, I didn't want to know.
Besides, I reminded myself, my client probably checked her out when I asked for the passport a few days ago. They might not have been as thorough as they would be if I told them I planned to marry her, but they would have done a basic check. If they found anything too damning, I would have gotten a text by now.
Who was I kidding? I wanted to keep her around. I began to focus on what I needed to know to keep us both safe. She told me several things that weren't consistent with one another.
The Daileys' estranged son was a puzzling element. Mary at first said he was her brother, and that he helped her pick up the pieces of her life after the Daileys' deaths.
Then she confessed that she was not a blood relative of the Daileys, but she still claimed Frankie found her when she ran away. That was a consistent part of both versions of her story. He took her in and gave her a place to stay.
Yet she said they didn't hit it off, she and Frankie. There was something off about that.
Why would he appear out of nowhere to help Mary? He was estranged from his parents and had no relationship with Mary, according to her. And why would he have let her stay in his home?
She said the police grilled both of them. That wasn't surprising. They would have both been prime suspects in the killings, either separately or together.
Then there was O'Hanlon, hot on Mary's trail. Or was he? I didn't have independent verification of that. She said O'Hanlon was after her, but...
While I didn't know if the O'Hanlon threat was real, somebody was trying to capture her. I saw plenty of evidence of that. So far, I didn't have a reason to doubt her on the topic of the Daileys' mob connections. Whether they were tied to O'Hanlon or some other mob boss didn't matter right now. I would just stick with the name O'Hanlon, even if it was only a place-holder.
I was intrigued that O'Hanlon went after Frankie Dailey, Jr., before he shifted his attention to Mary. If Frankie cut his ties to his parents because of their criminal activities why would O'Hanlon have thought Frankie would take their money and files?
Mary's fingerprints on the safe made her the more likely thief, and they explained why O'Hanlon's people were chasing her. He must not have learned about her fingerprints until later in the game. That might have taken the heat off Frankie.
I couldn't believe O'Hanlon's thugs left Frankie alone, though. Not after they tried to interrogate him. That was out of character for mobsters. Once they tangled with him, they wouldn't have walked away, especially if he kicked their asses. There was more to that story than Mary had told me.
If the news reports were right, the Daileys were dead for at least a day before their housekeeper found their bodies. She found them in the early morning when she went to work.
If Mary found them the day before and cleaned out the safe, that gave her at least a 24-hour head start before the housekeeper called the cops.
She said Frankie found her in Alabama. Driving that distance from South Florida in 24 hours was possible. But why would Frankie even have been looking for her?
He wouldn't have heard about his parents until after the housekeeper found them. Then he would have had to track Mary down. The timing of his involvement didn't fit.
How would he have found her? How long would it have taken? And why did he care about finding her? Had he really given her shelter and helped her get on her feet again? Why would he have done that? She said they didn't hit it off.
I lifted my drink to my lips and discovered it was empty. I thought about having another, but decided against it. My head hurt already. Lack of sleep, alcohol, or too many confusing thoughts? It didn't matter. I needed sleep. I was worn out, finally.
I went below and put the glass in the galley sink. Rather than risk disturbing Mary by climbing into the V-berth with her, I stretched out on the starboard settee.
In the morning, I would ask her more about Frankie and O'Hanlon. Maybe I would take my laptop to the marina restaurant and use their Wi-Fi to do a little more research. This time, I would take my satellite phone in case I changed my mind about that background check.
I would have to find a way to distract her. There was always shopping. She said she hardly scratched the surface of the shops in Marin.
26
I woke up to the smell of fresh coffee. As I sat up and swung my feet to the floor, Mary handed me a steaming mug and gave me a peck on the cheek.
"You slept on the settee. Rough night?" she asked.
"I couldn't get to sleep."
"Too keyed up?" she asked.
"Trying to make sense of this mess you're in."
"I'm so sorry, Finn. I didn't mean to drag you into this."
"You didn't drag me in; I invited myself. And I'm not sorry about it, so don't you be. I just don't understand what's going on."
"Can I help? Is something specific bothering you?"
I took a swallow of coffee to buy myself a little time. After a few seconds, I decided to ask her about Frankie. Worst case, she would just spin me another yarn.
"Frankie Dailey," I said.
"What about him?"
"You said he was estranged from his parents."
"Yes. That was the way they described their relationship."
"They? The Daileys?"
"Yes. Why?" she asked, frowning.
"If they were estranged, why would O'Hanlon think they'd stashed their records with Frankie?"
"I never thought about that," she said. "Do you suppose it was a ruse?"
"A ruse?" I wasn't sure where she was headed.
"By the Daileys, I mean. You think they were pretending to be estranged from him as cover? Like to protect him?"
"That's a possibility, I guess," I said, "but you're the one who knew all of them. What do you think?"
She put two fingers on her chin and tilted her head. After a few seconds, she said, "I need some of that coffee." Stepping back to the stove, she poured herself a cup.
She came back into the saloon and sat down across from me, taking a sip of the coffee. "I never thought about it. Now that you mention it, though, maybe it was."
"Maybe it was what?" I asked.
"A ruse," she said. "That would make sense, wouldn't it? If he was working in their business, I mean. I guess I was too involved to see that. Clever insight on your part."
She was doing it. I almost didn't catch it; she was the one who suggested the idea of a ruse. Now she was giving me credit for it. Two could play this game.
"Thanks," I said. "I thought of it last night. It was probably more obvious to me because of my distance from the situation."
"That gives you perspective," she said, nodding. "Did you think of anything else that wasn't quite right?"
I took a swallow of coffee and debated with myself. I could ask why Frankie tracked her down. Or how he even knew she was on the run. I settled on a more direct approach.
"How well did you know him?"
"Frankie?" she asked, raising the mug to her lips.
Now that I was watching, I could almost see the wheels turning in her head. I nodded and brought my own mug to my lips. I nodded. "Right, Frankie."
"Not well. I only met him the one time, like I told you."
Oh, yeah? I thought. What about when he let you stay at his place in Atlanta while you were on the run?
"That was at the Daileys," she said, "right after he came back from one of his tours in Iraq. I hadn't been working for them long at that point. But I picke
d up bits and pieces from them over the years."
"About his military service?"
"Right. And the mixed martial arts stuff. All of it. Looking back on it, they seemed proud of him. I guess the ill feeling was on his side, not theirs, huh? If he really was estranged. But I'll bet you're right. That was probably a smokescreen, that business about being estranged."
She's reinforcing the idea that I came up with the notion of a ruse. Damned clever, I thought. "You mentioned that he was wounded in Iraq."
"That's what they said. But he was okay; he wasn't permanently disabled or anything."
"You said he was discharged from the Army with a disability pension."
"That's right. I think he had mental problems, like PTSD or something. That's why he couldn't fight in the MMA matches anymore."
"I see," I said, taking another gulp of coffee. "That would explain his losing control, maybe."
"Losing control?" She raised her eyebrows.
"You said he tried to kill a couple of his cage-fighting opponents."
"Oh, right. That's probably it."
"There's something else I was wondering about," I said.
"What's that?"
"Still about Frankie. You said he came and found you when you flipped out after you found the Daileys."
She frowned and drank some coffee, looking down and to the right. "That's right. He did. I was pretty much out of it, Finn. Hysterical, I guess. I don't know what else to call it. I couldn't focus on anything — no idea where I was, what to do… I guess I did meet him more than once, but…"
She shook her head and looked up at me, her lips pursed, her brows knit. "I've never been like that, before or since. I think it must have been what they call a fugue state. I had no sense of time passing, or anything."
I waited, letting the silence drag out. I was wondering if she would elaborate on the inconsistency between this and her claim a few minutes ago that she only met him once, at his parents' house.
"Funny how I said I'd only met him the one time. I guess I blanked that out, the time at his place in Atlanta. I can't remember much about that, about him coming to get me. Or the time I spent at his place. I guess I was in shock."
But you were sharp enough to transfer $15 million and hide all their records, I thought. She was as slippery as a snake, slithering out of that lie.
"Did you ever wonder how he knew?"
"How he knew?" she asked, frowning. "The news, I guess. You mean about his parents? It was all over the news."
Not until you'd been on the run for 24 hours. Guess your fugue state could have hidden that little disconnect from you. Nice advance excuse for inconsistent memories, I thought. "How he knew you were on the run," I said. "That's what I was getting at."
She shook her head. "I never thought about it. Maybe from the police?"
"From the police?"
"They would have notified him of his parents' deaths, right?"
"Yes," I said. But he would have had to track you down and then travel to wherever he thought you were. "I'm sure they would have. You think they told him you were missing?"
"I don't know. They must have."
"How do you suppose he found you? It didn't take him long, did it?"
She took a sip of coffee, giving herself a little time. "You're right. I was so shaken up I never thought about that. How could he have known where to look?"
"How long had you been on the run when he found you?"
"I remember driving through the night, but it's all run together. I can't say if it was one night, or more than one." She shook her head and pursed her lips. "Like I said, a fugue state."
"You said you didn't have any cash when you took off." Let's see where you go with that.
"Right. Maybe a few dollars. Not enough to buy more than a few fast-food meals. When I tried to buy gas, none of my credit cards would work."
"That's odd," I said. "Why do you suppose the cards didn't work? More than one card?"
"Yes. I had two; they were company credit cards. I didn't have cards of my own, back then. I guess somebody must have frozen them." Mary was frowning.
Before the bodies were discovered, I thought. "Who managed the company credit cards?"
"I did, normally. But either of the Daileys could, too. Or maybe there was some other problem with the accounts. I don't know; my mind was foggy. Maybe I messed up entering the zip code on the gas pump or something."
"Did Frankie have access to those card accounts?"
She stared at me for several seconds. "Not that I knew of, but…"
"But?" I asked.
"Well, you've got me thinking. If he wasn't really estranged from his parents… That could have all been a scheme they had to hide his involvement from O'Hanlon."
She's off and running now. This new story is all based on 'my' idea that the Daileys' strained relationship with Frankie was a ruse. "Why would he have frozen the cards, though?" I asked.
She shook her head and stared into space for several seconds. "Suppose Frankie was… No, that's too far-fetched."
"Tell me. It may seem different if you say it out loud."
She looked me in the eye and nodded. "If Frankie was working with them under the table, could he have had something to do with their deaths?"
"What makes you think that?"
"It fits," she said. "It would explain how he knew to start looking for me before the bodies were found, and maybe even how he found me so fast."
She's quick. She spotted that inconsistency, and she's explaining it away before I can ask about it. With that kind of creative ability, she should write crime novels. "I'm not following you on that."
She smiled. "You've helped me make sense of all that, Finn. If he was secretly working with his parents and was in on their murders, it all fits together. He might have even known before they were killed — certainly before the housekeeper found them. That's why he was looking for me, probably. If he had access to the credit card accounts, he could have tracked me down that way."
"But why would he have turned on his parents?" I asked. How will you play off that one?
"I told you O'Hanlon accused them of skimming. Maybe he was using Frankie to spy on them. If Frankie was working for O'Hanlon… See the possibilities?"
I nodded. "All kinds of possibilities. You think Frankie knew about the murders in advance, is that it?"
"Well, it sure looks that way, now that you got me thinking about it. I think you're right about that."
I'm right about that? She's doing it again. "You said Frankie took you to his place in Atlanta, let you hang out there for a while."
"That was while I was still dazed. I don't remember much about that. You're wondering why he would have done that?"
I nodded. "You said you barely knew him. It seems a little strange, especially if he was working for O'Hanlon."
She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he wanted to see how much I knew about the crooked part of their business."
"Did he ask you a lot of questions?"
"I don't remember. Like I said, I must have blanked it out. Maybe he drugged me. The first clear memory I have of the time after he found me is in Savannah. I was working as a barmaid in a place on River Street. How I got there from Atlanta is beyond me. I just don't know."
"A barmaid in Savannah?" I asked, not hiding my skepticism. "And how long did you do that?"
"Not long. Once I got my wits about me, I realized I needed to disappear before O'Hanlon figured out I'd ripped him off. Maybe a few days, that's all."
I nodded but didn't say anything. After a minute of silence, she asked what we were going to do today.
"I need to take care of a little business online. I figured you might want to finish checking out the shops in Marin."
"Sounds good to me. Think we could go to Fort-de-France tomorrow?"
"Sure. Or even after lunch," I said.
"Tomorrow. I'm still a little worn out from our all-night sail night before last. Let's just hang out this after
noon."
"Fine with me. Give me five minutes to shave and gather up my stuff," I said. "We can have breakfast at the marina restaurant. Then you can go shopping and I can use their Wi-Fi."
27
After we finished breakfast, Mary left to go shopping. I watched her walk out of the marina restaurant as I savored my espresso. Damn, I wanted to find a way this could work. Despite her lack of veracity, she was a hell of a woman.
The waitress brought our check, and I paid with a 20 euro note and told her to keep the change. I took my laptop out of the bag and set it on the table. While it booted up, I thought about what I wanted to do this morning.
Frankie Dailey was a big part of the puzzle. From his parents' obituary, it appeared that he was his parents' only surviving relative. Beyond that, all I knew about him was what Mary told me.
Her web of lies was troubling. I excused her deception earlier, but now it was beginning to bother me. She should trust me by now, at least a little. Was she so mixed up she couldn't tell fact from fiction?
The chiming of the laptop as it came to life saved me from fretting over that any more. I opened the web browser and typed "Francis X. Dailey, Jr." into the search box.
The first reference was a sponsored one, a link to the webpage for his gym. I would come back to that. I skimmed a page worth of articles on his fighting career, including one that detailed the two fights that led to his suspension. Mary told the truth about that.
The first one led to a warning; Frankie continued to choke his opponent long after the man lost consciousness. It took two officials to tear him away. The second one was worse; he deliberately maimed the other fighter after knocking him out.
The second article mentioned his struggle with post-traumatic stress disorder. He did three tours in Iraq before his discharge, so his PTSD wasn't a big surprise
I scrolled back up the screen to the link to his webpage. There was a short bio there; it didn't tell me anything I didn't already know. The headshot of Frankie showed him to be ruggedly handsome, with a few scars around his eyebrows and a nose that was a little askew.
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