Murder and Matrimony

by Danielle Collins

  Slipping the phone back into her pocket, she was about to turn around and go back inside when she heard, “Ah, the lovely Margot Durand. I was hoping I’d find you away from everyone.”

  9

  Margot froze, then spun around to face Ben Anderson. “What are you doing here?” she asked, coming toward him the next instant.

  He embraced her in a brotherly hug and then pulled back, keeping his hands on her arms as he assessed how she looked. “I see dark circles and evidence of tears. So it really is as bad as Dad says.”

  “Bentley called you.” Her voice sounded resigned even to her own ears.

  “Don’t get mad at him. He only called me because he didn’t know what else to do. And he was right to do it. I know how much he cares for you and, after everything you’ve done for me—” He flashed her a reckless grin. “—how could I say no?”

  Margot considered the jewel thief turned criminal informant for the FBI. He looked even more tan than before and was still decked out in the latest, most expensive menswear. The air of confidence around him reminded her of James Bond and she couldn’t help but smile back. If he was going to be on anyone’s side, she was glad it was hers and Adam’s.

  “Want a pastry and a cup of coffee? It may take a while to fill you in.”

  “Please,” he said, still grinning.

  After they fished their croissants and coffee and Margot had finished the retelling of the events up until that point, Ben sat back and slowly shook his head.

  “And I thought the last time was bad.” He whistled low and took a look around.

  Margot didn’t miss the action. “What do you know?”

  “What?” His gaze shot to hers.

  “I can tell that you are nervous, you keep playing with that ring on your thumb, and then you just looked around as if to check to see if anyone was nearby. You know something.”

  His smile widened. “What I have to tell you could get me in a lot of trouble.”

  “Ben, I promise that it’s worth it.”

  “And here I thought you’d try and dissuade me from sharing. Keeping my health in mind and all.” He winked, flirting with her in the harmless way he did with all women.

  “You know I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t extremely important.”

  “I know. And I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t willing to help. Besides…” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I’d like to think my new friends will help me out if I get in too deep.”

  She knew he meant the FBI and wanted to warn him that wasn’t what they were there for, but then she saw his laughing grin and realized he’d been teasing her.

  “Okay, hold on to your hats, ladies and gentlemen. It’s about to get choppy.”

  She leaned back, unsure of what she would find out from Ben.

  “I know—er, knew—Sid Lawrence.”

  Margot’s eyes went wide. “You did?”

  “What did I tell you? Choppy.” He rubbed his jaw with the memory. “I connected with him for another, currently unnamed, client about a year ago. My client was interested in certain…items.”

  “Was this part of the smuggling ring?”

  Ben’s eyes widened. “All right, so you know more than I gave you credit for. Yes, I was working to bring product up to my client in southern Maryland and Sid was my connection. He was working for someone though, I know that much for a fact.”

  “Like a boss? Or just another cog in the wheel?”

  “Definitely the boss.”

  Margot’s mind swam with the possibilities. It had to be the same ring that Adam had gotten involved with.

  “Margot…” Ben waited until he had her attention, “I had reasons to believe that the boss was actually a cop—or detective, I don’t know. There was no way this smuggling ring could do what they did without someone, or many someones, looking the other way.”

  “That would make sense.” She nodded. She loosely filled him in on what Adam had been involved with, ending by saying, “If the ‘boss’ is on the force, that could be the person they needed to get. The whole reason why Adam never fully ‘left’ his undercover operation. That could also be the person targeting Adam.”

  “I don’t know, Margot.” Ben shrugged. “A boss like that wouldn’t get his hands dirty.”

  Ben had a point. Why would someone with that much power stoop so low? Then again, maybe there was someone else, another number two type guy who they didn’t know about.

  “Do you have a name?”

  Ben looked up from where he’d been studying the plate in front of him, moving the crumbs around with his thumb. “A name?”

  “Sid must have talked about who he worked for. There’s no way you did business with him without something slipping out. Right?” She hoped upon hope that he had something for her. They desperately needed a lead.

  “Okay, so Sid did mention a nickname. That’s about as good as these guys will get you. Everyone’s got a nickname.”

  “Right,” she said, nodding. “Anything will help. Pete can look into it.”

  Ben nodded. “They called him The Swede.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry there’s not more to go on.”

  “This could be helpful. They could be known, or in the system or something.” Margot felt like she was grasping at straws, but at this point, it was all she could do. “Can you tell me any more about Sid?”

  Ben’s gaze traveled over the skyline as he thought. “Yeah. He seemed loyal, to a fault you know? The kind of guy that would do anything to please those above him.”

  Margot thought that was an interesting way of putting it. Had Sid tried to please the wrong person?

  “He also had his hand in a few different things.”

  “Like side businesses?” Margot clarified.

  “You could say that. I mean, once you’re in deep as a criminal, some decide to go deeper. I don’t really know what, but I’d just hear rumors. It could have just been a side gig for his boss too. It’s hard to say.”

  “I see.” Margot began to paint the picture of the man Ben described. “Did you ever meet The Swede or anyone else?”

  Ben shook his head. “Only Sid. Though I did see someone in the car once. They were waiting as Sid got out to connect with me to finalize our deal. I had a feeling whoever was in the SUV was important.”

  “What did you see?” she asked eagerly.

  “Never saw his face, just caught a glimpse of a dark trench coat, high collar, dark hat, the works, you know?”

  Margot’s breath caught. “T-trench coat?”

  “Margot, are you all right? You look as white as a cream puff.”

  At another time, she would have appreciated the pastry reference, but her mind was too distracted to notice. This was proof—though very vague—that Sid had consorted with the man in the trench coat on more than one occasion. The question remained though, was he The Swede, or was that someone else?

  She knew she needed to get to Peter with this information, but she also didn’t want Ben to disappear, as he’d been known to do.

  “Will you stay?”

  He looked surprised. “Here?”

  “In North Bank. Just for a little bit?”

  He flashed her a smile. “I was invited to the wedding and I intend to be here until that happens.”

  Warmth rushed through her at his kind words. They bolstered her resolve and gave her courage.

  “Good,” she said with a wicked grin of her own. “Because I plan on getting married very soon.”

  Margot walked the now-familiar streets of Washington, D.C. with a feeling of anticipation. She’d convinced Anthony to convince Adam to see her again and she was waiting until the approved time. Traffic had been light, and she’d arrived in the city much more quickly than she’d expected, giving her time to walk off some of her nerves.

  With the addition of Ben’s information, she wanted more than anything to have a private conversation with Adam, but she knew that wasn’t possible. Was t
here a way that she could gain answers from him without having him give things away? Or would people just read into their ‘coded’ replies?

  Then another thought struck her, making her stop short in front of a cute red brick row house. What if the person responsible for all of this was part of the investigation? Or at least in the precinct where Adam was being held? Had she unknowingly interacted with him?

  She tried to think back to the man she’d now seen twice. While he’d been cloaked in a trench coat, there were a few things she did know. He was tall, thin as evidenced by the long arms and legs, and he potentially had brown hair. That detail wasn’t as solid in her mind since both times she’d seen him, he had worn a hat and she’d been afraid, but she remembered glancing a bit of brown scruff at the nape of his neck where the hat didn’t quite meet the collar of his jacket.

  It wasn’t much. In fact, it wasn’t much more than what they could make out from the videos. She made a mental note to examine the footage again just to be certain. She only hoped that either Peter or Les or Anthony—anyone, really—would come up with a break in the case. Otherwise, it looked like Adam would be found guilty. Then she thought of the detective on the case. Perhaps she could speak with him?

  Checking the time, Margot decided to throw caution to the wind and headed to the precinct early. When she arrived, she asked for Detective Karlsson at the front desk and was told he was down in the records room but would be back soon. The woman showed Margot to the chair by his desk, but instead of sitting down, she paced back and forth. Her gaze traveled to the papers strewn over the desk. Then she caught sight of a yellow legal pad where neat, uniform script filled the pages. He had the best penmanship of any man she knew.

  When she finally heard footsteps behind her, she turned to see the lanky detective eyeing her with a mixture of wariness and curiosity.

  “Missus Durand,” he said, “how can I help you?”

  “I was wondering if I could have a few moments of your time?”

  He reached over and rubbed his upper arm for a moment, as if it pained him, the action causing her to think he did it often, and then he nodded. He indicated the chair and she sat down.

  “I’m assuming this is about your fiancé’s case.”

  “Naturally,” she said, folding her hands in her lap. “I was wondering if there is anything more you can tell me about the case.”

  “Once having a husband for a detective, you must know that I can’t discuss an active investigation.”

  Her mouth went dry at his casual mention of Julian. Though not by name, it showed her that he’d done his homework. He was conveying that he knew all about Adam and those in his life.

  “I know that,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “but if you can’t share anything, then maybe you can listen.” His eyebrows rose, and she took it as an invitation to continue. “Adam Eastwood is a good, no, excellent detective. Look at his arrest rate. Talk to his superiors and those he’s worked with. They will all tell you that he does things by the book and he does them well.”

  Karlsson snorted as if something she’d said was funny. “I would hardly say killing a man is ‘by the book’.”

  This took Margot back, but she steeled her features. “You mean allegedly killing a man.”

  He shrugged his acceptance of her statement.

  “He didn’t do it, Detective. And I plan to prove that.” She slammed her mouth shut, knowing she’d gone too far that time.

  Karlsson leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. He looked at her as if he were talking to a child, condescension lacing his sharp features.

  “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and I’m also going to assume you know what I’ll say next. And yet, I’m still going to say it. You are not to interfere with this case.”

  “I’d never—”

  “If I so much as smell you looking into this, I’ll have you arrested for obstruction of justice.”

  She swallowed.

  “I can see that you care for Mister Eastwood, but unfortunately, care will get you nowhere in a court of law. Nor should it. Adam will pay for the crimes he’s committed. I promise you that.”

  Everything inside of Margot bubbled with hot fury but she resisted saying anything, swallowing down the need to respond and replacing it with a calm nod. Only she knew that it didn’t mean agreement with Karlsson. She’d never agree to sit back while he attempted to crucify her fiancé without true proof.

  “Thank you for your time,” she said, standing abruptly. “Good day.”

  She turned and went to the area where she’d be able to meet with Adam, but when she arrived there, she realized that Detective Karlsson had followed her.

  “I’m afraid you won’t be seeing Mister Eastwood today.”

  Margot’s mouth opened to protest, but the cold glint in the detective’s eyes told her not to argue with him for fear it would push him even further than he already was.

  “I see.” She looked at the startled-looking desk clerk then back to Karlsson. “I’ll come another time then.”

  Before he could forbid even that, she spun on her heel and walked out of the station. This hadn’t been the trip to D.C. she’d expected. Not in the least.

  10

  “Adam will pay for the crimes he’s committed. I promise you that.”

  Margot replayed Detective Karlsson’s words in her mind all the way back to North Bank. He’d seemed so adamant about the fact that Adam was guilty. And his word choice also bothered her. Crimes? Didn’t he mean crime? Was there some history there that she didn’t know?

  When she reached North Bank, she was just turning onto the main thoroughfare when she had the urge to go to the police station. She knew it was foolish and that if Chief Hartland saw her, he’d likely kick her out without so much as a hello. But she had to try and see Peter and Les.

  Finding a parking spot close to the station, she locked the car and made her way up the steps. Once inside, she was asked to wait. Soon, Les came out and beckoned her back. He and Peter had taken over one of the conference rooms to plot out the case for Sid’s death, but the boards had all been turned around when she came in. She didn’t feel insulted, just a little frustrated. Didn’t they know she was only trying to help the man she loved? Shouldn’t they want to use all their resources?

  Then again, it wasn’t like she was a licensed private investigator. Even if she had been, there was likely no way they’d let her in on any specific information. It was moments like this that she almost wished she’d become a police officer rather than a baker. The thought was enough to make her cringe and she knew she didn’t really mean it, but her mind did wander into the land of ‘what if’ on occasion.

  “What can I do for you, Margot?” Les said.

  She observed him for a moment. His arms were crossed and he looked frustrated. She hoped that her visit wasn’t the cause for this.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” she began.

  He dropped his arms and waved a hand in the air. “It’s all right. I’m just frustrated—with the case, not you.” His last phrase helped to ease her worry.

  “Anything you can tell me about what has you so upset?”

  He considered this. “What I can say is that the D.C. police, specifically the detective assigned to the case, are not being very helpful or forthcoming.”

  “I can imagine.”

  He looked up from a paper he was shuffling under a few others. “Why do you say it like that?”

  She wondered if she should keep her encounter with Detective Karlsson to herself, if telling Les would only add to his frustration, but perhaps something would be pertinent to the case.

  “I’m just coming back from talking with him, actually.”

  “What?”

  She recounted what had happened, ending with, “He then wouldn’t let me see Adam. It was all very frustrating.”

  “You can say that again.” Les had a far-off look in his eyes.

  Then, on a whim since she hadn’t b
een able to ask Anthony or even try to ask Adam, she told Les about her conversation with Ben.

  “He came to talk to you?”

  “He said he was coming for the wedding, just early, but I’m positive his father called him in to help. He did mention a name that I wanted to run by you.”

  Les was all ears. “What?”

  “The Swede. Ben said that he’d done business with Sid Lawrence and one time they were meeting, Lawrence had mentioned that name in conjunction with a smuggling ring out of D.C. I think that it could be involved with Adam’s past.”

  Les nodded sagely. “I’ve been having Peter work that angle concurrently as I work the Lawrence case. We’ve both hit a few dead ends. Namely that we can’t find any crime syndicate connection—on record—for Sid, and the other being that there is absolutely no other physical evidence except that of Adam on the boat.”

  Margot was shocked that Les was telling her this, but she didn’t stop him. Anything else she could learn from him would be helpful.

  “Have you talked to him?”

  “It took way more effort than I would have liked, but yes. We did get to interrogate—” He cringed at the formal word. “—Adam about what had happened.”

  “What did he say?”

  Les cringed again. This was definitely in territory that he shouldn’t be in. He bit his lip and looked around. No one was paying them any specific attention, especially since it wasn’t unheard of for Margot to come in to the precinct every once in a while to see Adam.

  “I’m only going to tell you this because I’m positive that Adam would have told you the same thing if you’d been allowed to see him.”

  She tried not to look too eager.

  “When we questioned him about what had happened the night of Sid’s death, he said that he never left on the boat.”

  Margot’s eye widened. “Not at all?”

  “Well, he said he was on the boat with the two men, which explains his fingerprints being at the crime scene, but he said he got off and Sid and the other man, whom he said wore a face mask and never spoke, left on the boat without him.”