After The Fire (The Bill Travis Mysteries Book 9)

by George Wier

  “Ms. Tannen, you couldn’t have known where Mr. Holland lived unless you knew him before you supposedly met him at my house. Yet you were here within five minutes. Care to say anything?”

  Shawn tried to frame a word, something, but I snatched the microphone back.

  “Apparently Ms. Tannen and Eloise Gallenkamp, Sol Gunderson’s former wife, entered into a conspiracy to defraud Mr. Gunderson out of his fortune and to exact some kind of revenge on Pico Freightliners.”

  Shawn backed away from the camera and made slashing motions across her throat toward Driesel.

  “Cut this feed?” he said. “No way, Jose.”

  “Ohhh crap,” Chuck said under his breath mere feet away, but out of the line of the camera. Hopefully it wasn’t picked up.

  Shawn started toward the van, but I snapped my fingers at Driesel and he caught her and got her in an arm lock.

  “In the early morning hours yesterday,” I said into the microphone, “Perry Reilly, a friend of mine, was hit over the head from behind and placed into a vehicle and locked in the garage you see behind me.” I gestured to Chuck, “Come here, Chuck.”

  Chuck sidled over and I placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Perry was hit pretty hard, wasn’t he Chuck?” I asked, then put the microphone where he could speak into it.

  Chuck, hunched shoulders and all, put his chin down toward the microphone, and said, “I’ve heard that he’s lucky to be alive. I’m sorry for what happened to him here.”

  “I’m sure you are. You were lured away from home right before it happened, weren’t you?” I had gotten the microphone-switching bit down by this time.

  “How did you know?” he asked.

  “I had it figured. You were nowhere to be found here. If it had been you, you would have taken him somewhere else. Who called you?”

  “Her,” Chuck said, and pointed.

  I brought the microphone back. Shawn Tannen was fighting hard in Driesel’s grasp. Her legs jabbed at the air. “I don’t know if it was Ms. Tannen or Sol’s ex-wife or her husband who did the deed, but we’ll soon find out.”

  “I don’t know who it was, but I’d sure like to.”

  “Chuck, ” I said, “be a good man and swivel the camera that way for a second,” I pointed at Shawn.

  Chuck moved to the side, went back of the camera and carefully swung it around. I was sure the public was getting an eyeful. Shawn stopped struggling when she realized the camera was on her.

  My cell phone rang. I fished it out of my pocket.

  “Yes?” I said.

  “Bill,” Patrick Kinsey said, “we’ve got Eloise Gallenkamp and her husband in custody. They were inside your office.”

  “Hold on, Patrick.”

  “Chuck, back this way.” The camera swung back around and I lifted the microphone. “I have on the phone Patrick Kinsey from the Travis County Sheriff’s Office. He states that two previously-named suspects are now in custody, having broken into my office mere moments ago in an attempt to locate private financial records.”

  Driesel released Shawn and she collapsed to the ground and began sobbing.

  I held the microphone up to my cell phone and spoke into both, “Deputy Kinsey, I am on camera with the local news station at the moment. Would you care to make an official comment?”

  “Uh. Yes. I would. Two suspects in the conspiracy to defraud both Sol Gunderson and Pico Freightliners are now in custody for the attempted burglary of the offices of Bierstone & Travis. The officer who apprehended them was Jessica Travis, your daughter. A full investigation is pending.”

  “Thank you, Deputy Kinsey,” I said, then lowered my phone and spoke to the camera, “Doubtless, there will be a full and complete investigation. Okay, Bob. Back to you.”

  Driesel looked down at Shawn, shook his head in disgust, then stepped to the camera and flipped a switch.

  “That’s a wrap,” he said. Then Driesel began laughing. It was infectious. Chuck began laughing next, then the elderly Hollands on the back porch, and finally I found myself guffawing as well. Man, but it felt good.

  “Bill Travis,” Shawn said. “I will hate you forever.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Following the ill-fated interview back of the Holland home, Driesel rounded up what was left of Shawn Tannen, loaded her into the news van—tear-streaked and ruined-makeup face and all—along with the equipment and got out of there.

  I offered to buy Chuck a meal and he accepted. I took Chuck with me to Mother’s Restaurant on Duval Street, about fifteen blocks away.

  We sat in the Garden Room and ordered lavishly. Mother’s is a vegetarian place, but you can’t tell it from the menu. They have a spinach lasagna that is killer. I ordered myself one.

  “What did that reporter whisper in your ear?” I asked Chuck.

  “She said she would make it worth my while...uh, physically, if I played along.”

  “I thought so. I mean, the look on your face spoke volumes.”

  “Bill, you could have gotten me in a lot of trouble back there. Why didn’t you?”

  “Because, like Sol I had the feeling you were being duped.”

  “I suppose I was,” he said, his gaze downward in embarrassment as he nervously played with his tea cup. “It’s not easy for me. They...I mean, women—they do things to me, Bill. I don’t know why, but they do. I can’t help it.”

  I nodded.

  “Who was it who shot Driesel and Jessica?” Chuck asked.

  “I don’t know for sure yet, but I’m willing to bet he confesses shortly.”

  “I’ll bet it was Eloise’s husband, James.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking too,” I agreed. “We’ll soon find out. We got lucky. All of us got lucky. It was good fortune Jess was wearing her kevlar. It was very good fortune that Driesel didn’t bleed to death out there. If it had been an inch in one direction, he would have. And you were lucky you didn’t get yourself in any deeper, or you’d be down in jail right now.”

  “I know,” he said, and if it were possible, hung his head lower.

  “None of that,” I said. “Self-blame is about the most useless emotion there is. I take it you would have done anything that Eloise asked you.”

  “Not anything. But when she introduced me to Shawn, I became a bit...smitten. I know. It’s pretty stupid of me.”

  “No worries. It’s sort of going around. By the way, what was that bit about flipping my power on and off?”

  “I had no idea you were there. I was trying to find a way in, and didn’t know whether you had a security system or not. I figured with the power out, any security system would be down.”

  “That was quite a scare. Where were you trying to break in?” I asked.

  “I circled the house slowly, looking for a way in. I tried breaking into your garage door, and even got it unlocked, but it wouldn’t budge.”

  I laughed. “That’s because it’s nailed shut. We converted the garage to a larger room for Jessica, since it appears she’s never, ever going to move out. So, who asked you to break in?”

  “Shawn.”

  “That was why she happened by right about then, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. A beautiful woman like that. I mean, I’ve got to have my head examined for trying that stunt.”

  I nodded. “Well...no harm done. What was she after?”

  “I don’t know for sure. I think your bank records, account security codes. Eloise needed the money, apparently.”

  “She’ll need a lot of money, and I’m afraid she’ll never get it in time.”

  I drained the last of my tea, then to change the subject I started off down a path I knew Chuck could easily travel. “What conspiracies are you onto these days?”

  “Oh!” Chuck brightened considerably. “You know, there’s all this disinformation out there on Bigfoot, right?”

  I nodded, and we were off to the races.

  *****

  I had coffee with Sol Gunderson, this time at my office
, where the coffee is good. It was the next day following my moment of stardom.

  “I’m having a short little funeral service for Bebe today,” Sol said. “You’re invited, Bill.”

  “I’ll pass,” I said. “No disrespect, it’s just that I’ve got too much to do.”

  Sol nodded.

  “What’s going to happen to Eloise?” Sol asked, and sipped his coffee.

  “She’s lucky she didn’t get herself killed, breaking in here like that. Fortunately she wasn’t armed when Jessica and Patrick nabbed her and her husband. We’ve got confessions from both of them. I’ll make sure the charges are dropped. She’ll have a hell of a time trying to save her property from foreclosure as it is. She doesn’t need me to add on to her troubles.”

  “That’s awfully kind of you, Bill. Speaking of which, how much do I owe you for all you did for me?”

  “Not a thing, Sol. Not a blessed thing. Oh, that reminds me,” I said and reached down, opened my lower desk drawer and brought out a rather thick expanding file folder and plopped it down in front of him.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s all your assets. It’s all the bank account information, money market funds, passwords, keycodes...everything. It’s yours.”

  “Are...are you firing me, Bill?” he asked.

  “I am, Sol.”

  He scratched his head.

  “Don’t take it personal,” I said. “I can’t afford you, Sol. You see, I’ll be fifty years old, soon. I don’t like things going boom all around me. I don’t like getting shot at. I don’t like having to bail my clients out of jail. None of that stuff. What I want to do is read the sports page, maybe throw some darts at a dartboard and drink a beer once in a blue moon.”

  “You’re firing me.”

  “Yep. Not that you haven’t been a good fellow, Sol. I’m too old for clients like you. Hell, you’re too old to have me working for you.

  “I suppose I am,” he said. “Anyway, I’ve finally given up on Eloise. I sure did love her, she was just...she was just no good for me.”

  “And you for her, apparently.”

  “What was that Shawn Tannen girl’s beef with that trucking company?”

  “I just got the word last night. She confessed to everything.”

  “Is she going to jail?” he asked.

  “That’s iffy. I’m not sure of what law she’s broken, if any. She did have a major beef, though. I think Newton Frisley is going to try to help her iron it out.”

  “What was it?”

  “Her father worked for Pico Freightliners. About fifteen years ago he had an accident. It wasn’t job-related, but he had an accidental death and dismemberment policy through Pico. He died six months after the accident, and it’s arguable that he died as a result of his injuries, but because there was such a lag in time between the accident and his demise, the insurance company refused to pay the policy.”

  “How much was it?”

  “A million bucks.”

  “Well I’ll be damned. And she concocted some kind of scheme. What for? How was she going to get any money out of them.”

  “Oh, she had given up on that a long time ago. She knew she would never see a dime. She did, however, very strongly desire to break the company. To smear them. Anything she could do. She almost got away with it. Except...”

  “Except what?”

  “She forgot the first rule of journalism.”

  “Bill, I wish you would just tell me and stop playing games about it. Like you said, I’m a bit of an idiot.”

  I chuckled. “She forgot that any amount of limelight is a good thing. Just so long as they spell your name right.”

  “Oh yeah. That’s what they say.”

  “They let her go from the newstation. She’ll have a hell of a time ever finding work as a reporter again. But I think New is going to make the policy on her father good. He’s not too happy with her for what she did, but he’s a good fellow, and seems to understand her frustration. I like the guy. He’s the kind of fellow I wouldn’t mind having for a son-in-law.”

  Jessica walked in the doorway.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “Yeah, right. New Frisley is a good guy, dad. But he’s like, boring. I mean, he runs a trucking company. I mean, come on!”

  I looked at Sol and shook my head. He nodded in agreement.

  Jessica came in and plopped down in a chair.

  “Say, Sol,” I said. “You mentioned something about a fire that you and Eloise experienced some time back. That’s been gnawing at me. What was the fire?”

  “I’m embarrassed to say.”

  I waited.

  “Do I have to tell? In front of the...girl?”

  “Who’s she going to tell?” I asked.

  Sol nodded in resignation.

  “It’s the real reason Eloise and I parted ways. You thought it was about money. Me being a miser, and all that. Well, that’s just not true. It’s not only that I was a miser and never gave her anything. No. What I did was far worse.”

  I waited. I knew he was going to bare his soul.

  “Eloise used to be crazy about elephants.”

  “Huh?” Jessica asked.

  “Elephants. She collected them. Stuffed elephants, porcelain elephants, wooden elephants. Elephant clocks, elephant salt- and pepper-shakers. It wasn’t so bad as long as it was in her spare bedroom, but then it spilled over into the kitchen and dining room. Then the living room.”

  “Ha!” I said. “I remember something about her elephants. It was the first time I ever came by to visit you. I’d forgotten all about that.”

  “Yeah. Eloise had elephants on the brain. I tried to warn her that I was getting fed up about it. So one day she went into town. I fixed myself some lunch and sat down at the dining room table and didn’t have enough space to put down my plate and my glass. I got mad and swept the whole damned table clear of them. I was madder than a hornet. I went through and cleaned the whole house of elephants and made a big pile of them out back and set them ablaze. When she came in, saw there were no elephants about, she sniffed at the smoke, took one look out the window into the back yard, slapped the snot out of me, then gathered her clothes and left.”

  “Was it worth it to you?” I asked Sol. “Burning up her elephants like that?”

  “I’ve never forgiven myself for it, and for damned sure she hasn’t forgiven me. Eloise never will. But...was it worth it? I don’t know. But I will say this—after the fire, my house has been elephant-free.”

  *****

  I didn’t have the heart to tell Sol the last bit of truth I knew about the whole thing. Some news a fellow can’t be expected to bring.

  I watched him as he departed, his financial files in his hands as he climbed into his pickup on the street out front.

  Eloise had poisoned Bebe. To make it look good, she had injected the animal with enough formaldehyde to embalm an elephant—which, I suppose upon reflection, is apt.

  EPILOGUE

  I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself.

  Jessica emerged from her room in the garage wearing a tight-fitting blue silk dress, a cream-colored long scarf draped around her neck, and high-heel shoes. Her lips were carefully brushed an exquisite crimson, her make-up expertly applied, and her shiny, short, straight black hair festooned with a dozen tiny clamshells.

  “Oh my God,” I said.

  “What’s the matter, dad. Don’t I look...okay?”

  “You look gorgeous, dammit. Who’s the guy?”

  She spun around. “What about the dress? Don’t you like it? Mom and I spent all day yesterday working on it.”

  “That’s what you two were up to. I was wondering but neither of you would let on anything. Uh...I repeat—who’s the guy?”

  “That’s right. There is a guy, and he’ll be here in a few minutes to pick me up. We’re going to the Umlauf Sculpture Garden, then to a play at the Zachary Scott.” She
unwrapped her scarf and re-arranged it so that the ends draped over her upper arms. “Do you like this better?”

  “I like it better knowing who my daughter is dating.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get that,” I said and started that way, but Jessica ran in front of me and stopped me.

  She kissed my cheek and smiled. “Let me, dad.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Jessica turned and opened the door and there stood Driesel, his hair and beard trimmed and combed with a loud purple suit on that must have been borrowed from a mariachi band. The trumpet-player, probably.

  “Driesel,” I said.

  “Mr. Travis,” he nodded, then looked at Jessica. His eyes widened and he said, “Hubba hubba hubba.”

  I grit my teeth. “How’s the leg?” I asked.

  “Oh. It’s fine.” Then to Jessica, he said, “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

  “You take care of her,” I said.

  “I will.”

  I looked past them to the road in front of the house to see the news van.

  “That’s not going to work,” I said.

  “What?” Jessica asked.

  “No one is taking my daughter on a date in a news van.”

  “But dad! I’m not taking him in my patrol car.”

  “Who said anything about that?” I fished in my pocket and brought out the keys to Julie’s Expedition and handed them to her. “Tomorrow, you and I are going shopping for a car for you.”

  Jessica was stunned. “A...a new car? Or a used one?”

  “Like I said, we’re going shopping for a new car for you.”

  Jessica threw her arms around me and kissed my cheek again.

  “I love you, daddy,” she whispered in my ear. When she let me go I saw a tear slip down her cheek.

  As I watched them go from my doorway, I couldn’t help smiling. Maybe those two would stick, and maybe they wouldn’t. It didn’t matter so much. What mattered was that Jessica was starting off on the adventure of her life.