The Crawford Chronicles - Book 1

by Clayton Conrad

  “Well I guess that just about covers it then,” Clayton said, as he rose from his chair and locked eyes with Lester. “By the way spud, do you know the Stephen Driscoll?”

  Howard blinked, broke eye contact and glanced down at his desk, shuffling a few papers about unnecessarily. “It seems I’ve heard the name somewhere, but just can’t place it,” he answered.

  “No matter, it’s really not that important spud.”

  “Well, who is he?”

  “No one of any consequence. Again, thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I certainly know how busy you must be and I appreciate your taking the time to see me at all.”

  “Nonsense, the senator and I are here to help in any way we can during this trying time for you. Please don’t hesitate to call on us anytime.”

  As Clayton left Howards office he spotted Nancy standing by a water cooler in the hallway.

  “How was your meeting with Mister Big?” She asked, with a perky voice.

  “Interesting,” Clayton replied. “Very interesting. Tell me Nancy, did you know Michelle? I mean did you work with her, you must have seen her around. What did you think of her?”

  “I’ve seen her around, but we didn’t hang together, I mean we weren’t that close. I can tell you this much though, she was a real jokester and always upbeat. Never a dull moment when she was around.”

  “Did you see her just before the accident, a day or so maybe?”

  “Sure, I saw her in the lunch room with Mister Big.”

  “How did she seem? Was she upset or angry, anything like that?”

  “No, I wouldn’t say that, maybe subdued would be more like it. You know what I mean, not her usual self, real quiet like.”

  At that time Mister Howard stepped out of his office, and saw them standing by the water cooler.

  “Nancy, may I see you a moment please?” He said, then stepped back into his office.

  “I’ve got to run,” she said. “Better see what he wants, but call me, okay?” She said, handing Clayton a slip of paper with her phone number on it. She hurried off.

  Chapter 15

  Back in the lobby and more confused than ever he found Henry in the coffee shop going over the daily racing forms. He joined him in silence and watched him studying the forms like a kid studying his homework.

  “Hey dude,” Henry said, as he looked up from the paper. “How did things go up there with the rich and famous?”

  “Nothing is adding up Henry, not at all, and I’m getting a bad feeling about this whole thing. Something is really wrong here. I know it down deep, now the question is what to do about it. Michelle was murdered, Henry, I’m sure of it and Lester Howard knows something about it but is afraid to say anything. I’m going to turn it all over to the police and let them deal with it, that’s the thing to do. After all it’s not like Michelle and I were that close anyway, right? I mean we had been separated for the good part of three years, in which time I may have seen her briefly two or three times.”

  “You know what dude? What you need is a day the tracks,” Henry said. “That would you like in the fifth at Santa Anita this afternoon?”

  “I know Henry, what you think?”

  “I like Star Fire in the fifth race, a 5 to 1. He has at one any for a while and I’ve got a feeling he’s ready. Okay dude, put a hundred on him? I got the feeling about it.”

  “Yeah but don’t forget it’s my hundred were talking about.”

  “Yeah dude, but it’s my tip. We split it 50-50 right?”

  “Okay go ahead, but if you’re that sure why not put a grand on him?”

  “Now you’re talking. That’s the spirit. I’ll phone it in before it gets too late,” he said and reached for his cell phone.

  Clayton took Rachael’s card from his breast pocket and studied it for a minute, still debating. “Oh well, what the hell,” he said under his breath. “All she can say is no thank you.”

  “Hey, it’s me,” He said when she answered on the third ring.

  “I know,” she said, “and this is me, so does that make us two?”

  “What? I don’t really know.”

  “Nevermind, it’s not important. You should take your time, don’t you? I just about gave up on you for a lost cause.”

  “I guess it’s been a while, hasn’t it? But in my defense I’ve been awful busy with one thing or another. I hope you can overlook my lapse in timing.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that. I have to think on it a while, while you decide whether you just called to tell me you’re sorry or that you want to take this girl out for a nice dinner and a stage play tonight.”

  “For crying in the sink! You want I should take you out for dinner? No doubt in one of those swanky theories that have around here and then to a stage play on top of. I was thinking more along the line of a movie and maybe a hamburger afterwards.”

  “Hey, this girl doesn’t come cheap you know! But what movie did you have in mind and I like pizza instead of a greasy old hamburger.”

  “You certainly drive a hard bargain, don’t you? I’ll pick you up about six, or so, and we can go to a restaurant of your choice just as long as it’s the Golden Griddle on 36th and State Street. Then we will see about a stage play, if you don’t eat too much, that is.”

  “You have a tux?” She asked.

  “No, I don’t wear them but I have a dark blue suit.”

  “Well, I guess that’s something,” she said. “Okay, I’ll see you around six,” and rattled off her address. “Gotta go now, see you at six, by” – click, in the line went dead.

  “What time do the races start?” Clayton asked.

  “Host time is at 3 o’clock, so we have plenty of time. Let’s grab a lunch at Mama’s. I can catch the race later on my car radio.”

  So off to the Golden Grill restaurant for lunch and a bit of news. “I wonder if she’s contacted her lawyer yet, or an alarm company?” Clayton mused.

  “I bet she hasn’t,” Henry argued. “I know her better than most and I say she will put it off and put it off until someone walks her through it or does it for her. I’ve known her for 15 years and that’s how she is, trust me on that.”

  “Funny, but she didn’t strike me as that kind of person. I thought she was more direct, straightforward,” Clayton answered.

  “How much you willing to bet on it? You’re going to bet lunch, or are you just whistling Dixie?” Henry challenged.

  “Okay smart guy, I’ll bet you lunch. I bet you lunch for a week, and will see his whistling Dixie.”

  “You’re killing me Crawford, you’re killing me,” Henry said as they pulled into the restaurants parking lot.

  “Where did you hear that one, Henry?”

  “Hear what? Now what you talking about?”

  “You said, and I quote ‘you’re killing me, you’re killing me.’ Where did you hear that?”

  “Oh that. No, I was just joking with you,” Henry answered. “Just a joke, you know.”

  “Shoot a monkey, Henry! I know you were just joking, but that phrase, where did you hear that from?”

  This I know always says it. It’s kind of funny so I picked it up myself. You like it?”

  “Geez Henry, do you know everyone in town? The detective I was talking to this morning said that.”

  “His name wouldn’t happen to be Carol Richards, would it? Carol and me go way back, a long way. All the way back to grammar school.”

  “That’s him all right, Carol Richards. What a small world this is,” Clayton said, as they walked into Mama’s restaurant. “And don’t forget our bet about Mama.”

  “It’s a good glad you are, and it’s almost a shame, it is, to be taking your hard-earned money,” Henry said, in a heavy Irish brogue. “But a good lesson it will be for you glad he. Never to bet against me, me being the pro that I am. Tis a gift that I have gladly, and natural born gift to always choose the winners.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Clayton said as he picked a nearby booth and settled
in. Tag came over to take their order.

  “You two joined at the hip or something? Where one is so was the other. Is that how it’s going to be?” Tag smiled at them.

  “None of your lip, you redheaded vixen, you man eater you. My dear sainted mother, May she rest in peace, always warned me about women like you. By the way tag, what you doing tonight want to go out on the town with me?” Henry grinned broadly.

  “You should be so lucky little man,” she came back. “Now what will it be for lunch guys?”

  “Double burger and fries,” Henry said, “and I thought you would never ask. Make it well done with the side of Mayo. No, I’m going all the way this time; make it a double bacon cheeseburger, well done with fries and a side of Mayo, apple pie and coffee, as I’m reasonably sure my good and trustworthy friend here is going to pay the bill.”

  Clayton just smiled and shook his head. “He’s one-of-a-kind all right. I’ll have your house salad, French dressing, sweet tea and apple pie. Oh, is Evelyn in yet? I’d like to see if she needs any help arranging for that extra security.”

  “Yeah,” tag answered, “she’s in her office, been there all morning. On the phone with this company and that company, with her lawyer to. I believe she has an alarm company out this afternoon, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Well, then I won’t worry with it, it’s good to know she’s on top of things. She strikes me as being a pretty sharp lady.”

  “Mama? You bet she sharp there is nothing that gets by her,” tag replied.

  Turning to Henry, Clayton said, “I hope your instincts are better at the race tracks then they were here. What happened to that special gift you were telling me about?”

  “Life sucks, and then you die.” Henry returned with a glum face. And his spirits lifted, “not – just a very minor setback, little hiccup is all.”

  After Henry finished paying the check he drove Clayton back to the hotel Wilson where he dropped him off with instructions to pick him up at 5:30 that evening. Having the rest of the afternoon to do nothing but relax Clayton decided to make a few phone calls. Maybe call some of Michelle’s friends and see if he could learn anything new. He knew down deep that he couldn’t just walk away, but he was like a dog with a bone that wouldn’t let go.

  First he called Tim Holt, his Vice President in California. Tim was out of the office so Clayton left a message for him to call ASAP. Clayton knew it was an important contract to be ratified and signed and he needed to know if everything was all right with it.

  After leaving the message he began calling the people he found in Michelle’s address book. The first was a woman named Carla, just Carla, and a phone number. No answer. The second one on the list was Stephen and he was missing. The third was in no answer.

  Not until the fourth call did he get paydirt. Her name was Barbara Wells, who was very glad to talk about Michelle. She told him what he already knew, that Michelle was generally upbeat and happy-go-lucky. But then Barbara confirmed that the last few days before her accident she seemed worried and was a frazzled bundle of nerves (Barbara’s words).

  “She wouldn’t tell me what was wrong,” Barber said over the phone. “She just said it was better that I didn’t know. She said I wouldn’t believe her anyway.”

  “You’ve been a great help Mrs. Wells, and I –“

  “Please,” she interrupted, “just call me Barb, all my friends do.”

  “Good, okay then Barb, that sounds good. I wonder if you would meet me for lunch somewhere and discuss Michelle further. I have a feeling you can really be of help to me. Let’s say the dining room at the Wilson here where I’m staying. Good, then tomorrow at the Wilson for lunch, say 12:30 or so.”

  Altogether Clayton made 15 calls but didn’t learn much more. For didn’t answer, three were men she had dated but claimed they hadn’t had contact with her for some time and were no help. One guy said he didn’t know anyone named to Michelle and slammed the phone down. He called a few women that had stars next to their names but they didn’t help him much because they hadn’t seen her for over a month. They did say it would definitely meet him for lunch and drinks. He declined their offer.

  By the time Clayton finished his phone calls it was past time at Santa Anita, so he went to the entertainment center. He turned on the Serious radio and found the station that broadcasts the races. The horses were just entering the starting gate, except of course for Star Fire, who had a different idea on how the show was going to run. He tried to bite his rider, kicked at the rooms who were trying to handle him, and in general, was being a big pain. Once in the gate he seemed to settle down a little but still acted nervous and wasn’t quite sure he liked this arrangement.

  “Oh, that’s just great!” Clayton said out loud. “I’ve been on a horse that’s just a big pain in the ass. Doesn’t like his rooms, his handlers or even his jockey.”

  Just then the bell rang, the gates flew open and they were off. Star Fire got a late jump, and out of the six horse race was dead last getting away. Toward the first turn it was Bellboy in the lead, then Haley’s Comet, a close second, then Twin Brother. Fourth was Breakaway, fifth was Busy Day, and sixth was Star Fire.

  At the turn Star Fire was hugging the rail and squeezed past busy day. He seemed to lengthen his strides a little bit. Around the turn Star Fire shot through an opening to take the fourth slot on the field. Down the back stretch it was b one and two Bellboy, Haley’s Comet, Twin Brother, and Star Fire running neck and neck with Breakaway.

  Around the far turn Breakaway moved up past Twin Brother, who seemed to suddenly lose his stride, maybe a bruised hoof, or God forbid, a sprained muscle. Whatever the cause, Twin Brother fell off to his right and was out of the race. Star Fire saw the opening and with an all out, effort jumped ahead past Breakaway, past Haley’s Comet, and was now running second about two lengths behind Bellboy. Down the home stretch it was B to Bellboy, Star Fire, Haley’s Comet, Breakaway and Busy Day.

  Breakaway pushed past Haley’s Comet and was moving up on Star Fire. Bellboy couldn’t keep up the grueling pace and started to fade. Now it was Star Fire and Breakaway. To the wire it was Star Fire and Breakaway, Star Fire and Breakaway… And Star Fire takes it by a nose.

  “What a race!” The announcer shouted. “Star Fire by a nose. This horse hasn’t won in his last four races. This was a long shot of the day at 5 to 1. Someone really cleaned up this day, and I hope it was you, dear friend. Until next time… Blah blah blah.”

  Clayton turned off the radio with the remote and relaxed with a cool whiskey straight up.

  Chapter 17

  While Clayton was listening to the race Timothy Holt, Clayton’s Vice President, out in California, was holding a very private meeting with Michael Lansing, the company senior attorney. The two men met at Holt’s request in his private office, and although they disliked each other immensely, the meeting started off friendly enough.

  “It was nice you could make it Michael, I know how busy you must be these days. First of all, and before we start, can offer you some coffee or tea? Perhaps even something a little stronger – no? Fine then. Okay, first I want you to know what a good job you’re doing for us at Clayton Alarm and Security Systems.”

  “Thank you Tim,” Michael said, as he relaxed in an easy chair facing Holt’s massive desk. “I understand that you’re top gun he here while Clayton is a way and I fully intend to do everything to your complete satisfaction while he’s gone.”

  “That’s good to hear, Michael, and I know you mean every word. Say, I hear from the grapevine that you’re taking the family to the Caymans the summer. That’s just great. I was Lisa these days, and the children? They must be getting pretty bit by now. Let’s see, the last time I saw them was at the company picnic last year. I will do the boys anyway?”

  “The boys are eight and 10,” Michael answered looking at Timothy hold with suspicion and wondering just where all the smalltalk was leading.

  “Minor all grown up now and have left the nest, thank God
! Still, I miss them at times you know, not being underfoot as it were.” Timothy leaned forward with his elbows on the desk in his large fingers interlocked together in front of him. “I know how valuable your time is Michael, so let me cut straight to the point okay?”

  “Certainly Timothy,” Michael replied with a thin smile. “I’ve been wondering what this meeting is all about. I know you’re not in the least bit interested in me or my family, so please, let’s hear it.”