Chasing a Dead Man

by Kathryn J Bain

  “Give me a break. They have no money. Ms. Xavier is on government assistance.” Coleman released a laugh. “And I know for a fact there’s a GoFundMe page and an insurance policy in the estate. That should be enough money for your clients.”

  “It’s not about money,” Kimberly said. “It’s about seeing that the people responsible for raising the killer of their son not get rewarded.”

  Mr. Martinez shot up from his chair. “My son was no killer.”

  “Cut the crap.” Kimberly glared at him, but he refused to back down. “Why are you here, anyway? You have no interest in this proceeding.”

  Coleman huffed out a laugh. “He’s the kid’s father. He has every right to be here.”

  Kimberly pulled a document from her briefcase. “There was no father listed on Joseph Xavier’s birth certificate. That gives him no interest in these proceedings. So, unless he can prove he signed something later in Joseph’s life, he needs to go.” She looked up at Mr. Martinez, whose face was tomato red. “Have you ever paid child support through the court?”

  “I took care of my kids. Paid for things, clothes, food. Every time I get paid, I give ’em something.”

  “So, you’re working?”

  “Yes.” He dragged the word out.

  “Does the IRS know?”

  “Of course, they do. I pay my taxes.”

  “He does a good job taking care of us.” Ms. Xavier placed her hands on her hips.

  “No, the government takes care of you in the way of food, housing, and money.” Kimberly looked up Martinez. “Leave. Now.”

  “He is his father.” Susan Xavier took hold of his hand. “He’s been in his life since day one.”

  “Really?” Kimberly leaned back. “So, if I subpoena your welfare application, it will tell me Mr. Martinez is the father?” Kimberly matched Ms. Xavier’s glare. “Better yet, why don’t I contact the government and let them know he’s got a job. I’m sure they’d like to go after him for some of that money they’ve paid out.”

  Martinez’s hands curled to fists.

  Stuart stood. He was far more muscular, and he had more reason to be angry. He lowered his jaw, ready for a fight.

  Martinez stepped back. “You b—”

  “Like I said, Mr. Martinez,” Kimberly leaned forward, “you may leave now.”

  The man looked down at Coleman, who nodded. Martinez stomped from the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Winston released a struck breath. Stuart returned to his seat, and his jaw relaxed.

  “You really do like to cause drama, don’t you?” Coleman chuckled.

  “I’ll be letting opposing counsel know he has no interest either. Probably be another motion to dismiss.”

  “You play dirty.”

  “Just getting down in the mud with you.”

  Coleman’s lips disappeared.

  “Ms. Xavier,” Kimberly turned to Susan, “let me make myself clear. You are responsible for your son’s behavior since he was still a minor.”

  Coleman leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “My client lost her son.”

  “So did my clients. At the hand of her son.” Kimberly pointed a finger across the table at Susan.

  “It isn’t her fault he was on drugs.” Coleman patted the woman’s hand. “She couldn’t have known he was out of control.”

  Winston forced herself not to look surprised. It was stupid to say Joseph had been on drugs and out of control. All three could testify in the civil suit to what Coleman just said. There was nothing confidential about this meeting.

  “She can’t know her son might commit a crime.” Coleman added.

  Kimberly pulled out another document from her file. “Do you not have a son by the name of Reginald?”

  Susan raised her chin. “I do.”

  “Seems he was into drugs and committing crimes as well. He’s in prison for an armed robbery himself. Only difference is, he didn’t kill anyone.”

  “He was framed,” Susan blurted.

  “I know,” Kimberly lowered her head as if to show sympathy, “everyone in jail is innocent.” She shook her head. “Your client should have kept better control of her children.”

  “We can work something out here.” Coleman tapped his fingers together in front of him. “Tell you what, I’ll file suit against the pizza company for not having enough security on behalf of your client. Waive all my fees.” He glanced at Stuart. “No charge to you, Mr. Newberry, if you decide against suing my client. This way both sides win.”

  Kimberly’s mouth opened, then shut. After a second, she finally spoke. “You would be suing for a crime your client’s son committed.”

  “Nothing says I can’t.”

  Heat rose up Winston’s back. She hated attorneys like this. Only after money, not justice.

  Kimberly turned to Stuart. “It’s your decision.”

  Stuart leaned toward Coleman. “Neither of you get one nickel.”

  Coleman’s brow narrowed. “Neither will you. Like I said, she has no money in her name.”

  Kimberly tapped her pen against the table. “Don’t think for a second, Leland, I’ll allow the funds to go into a trust. I plan to file papers freezing any assets awarded.”

  “Only if the judge agrees.”

  “If he doesn’t, I’ll file an appeal. I have a very productive law office. I’ll keep something like this in the appellate court for years, along with any assets awarded. Trust me when I say you’ll be lucky to make a dollar an hour on your time.”

  “I don’t think your client can afford it.” Coleman’s nostrils flared like a bull ready to charge.

  “But I can,” Winston blurted.

  The room went silent, and everyone turned to look at her.

  “And if we have to take it to the Supreme Court, I’ll pay,” Winston said, now as angry as Stuart. “Anything to see to it you get nothing.”

  Stuart’s eyes grew misty. His lip wobbled. He nodded to her and dabbed at his eyes with his knuckles. He didn’t realize she knew what it was like to lose a loved one to violence. She couldn’t do anything about her situation, but she could his.

  “Here’s the deal, Ms. Xavier.” Kimberly pulled her notebook and started writing. “You will withdraw your complaint, and we don’t sue. It’s as easy as that.”

  Susan raised her chin. “My boy was killed by them cops.”

  “Fine,” Kimberly put her notebook away. “But you need to know, when we depose you, I plan to ask a lot of question about your government assistance.”

  “I’ll fight against it,” Coleman said.

  “Proves her character. If she lied on an application for food stamps, what else is she lying about. Her ‘out of control’ son?” Kimberly did quotes in the air.

  Coleman’s Adam’s apple jumped. He apparently realized his mistake could cost him more than a lawsuit. This woman seemed the type to file a complaint with the Florida Bar.

  “I’m an honest woman.”

  “You might be, but sometimes we don’t consider things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Mr. Martinez just announced that on every payday he gives you money for your kids. Have you reported it to the government? You’ll have to repay some of your benefits. And do you know what the penalty is for lying on your application?”

  The woman licked her lips.

  “I’m sorry you lost your son, but we both know the police weren’t at fault for his death. He was.” Kimberly paused a moment. “You need to ask yourself if this suit is worth a federal charge against you.” Kimberly stood. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to prepare for another client.”

  Coleman stood and followed a slouched Susan from the room.

  “If she hadn’t raised the boy who killed my son, I’d almost feel sorry for her,” Stuart said, though no humor was in his remark.

  There were no winners in a case like this. No matter what happened, nothing could bring either child back.

  Kimberly led them to the front office. �
�I hope they withdraw. It’ll make things a lot easier for you and your wife.”

  “I agree,” Stuart said. “Fran isn’t doing well. She needs to move on. Something we can’t do with all this on the TV every night.”

  As the two spoke, Winston glanced around. She caught sight of an envelope ready to be mailed out. The address was for the Caldwell Company. Her heart jumped a notch.

  “I’ll call you once I know anything,” she said to Stuart. “I have a quick question for Kimberly about another case.”

  They said their goodbye’s, then Winston pointed to the envelope. “You have a relationship with the Caldwell Company?”

  “No, just sending a letter for a client. Why?”

  Winston had to be careful about giving out any information on a particular client because of privilege. The Florida Bar was strict on these things. “Jane is working on a man’s disappearance and came across the Caldwell Company and some life insurance policies with regard to him.”

  “Actually, that’s what the letter is about. The sister of a guy killed in a hit-and-run in Baker County seems to think the beneficiary form has been forged. Do you think Jane will talk to me about it?”

  “I’m sure she will. I’ll let her know to call you either way.” Winston left knowing that the form probably was forged, and with Pamela’s luck, probably by her husband. Winston got in her car and left a message for Jane before she started the engine.

  Winston had just got off the highway when her phone rang. She hit the Bluetooth on her steering wheel.

  “Hello, Jane.”

  “Just wanted to catch you up. I just spoke to an officer in Lake City, and Gabriel Yates, the guy in charge of the Caldwell Company, has apparently flown the coop.”

  Winston pounded a fist on the steering wheel. That wasn’t good news at all. “Any idea where he’s at?”

  “His passport is missing, so if he’s smart, he’s heading out of the country. They found a plane ticket heading to Morocco. Can you cash in on insurance if you no longer have a policy?”

  “Yes. I’m sure it’s done all the time. Why do you ask?”

  “The search didn’t produce any policies at the office or the guy’s home. I’m figuring he might have destroyed them to hide his involvement.”

  “It wouldn’t matter,” Winston said. “The insurance company would have the originals.”

  “But if you don’t know the company or the victim’s name, that might make it harder on those looking to prove his involvement. Any way to search by beneficiary?”

  “You’re afraid once he gets settled, he’ll continue with his killing spree?” Winston shuddered at the notion. “There’s a website to find out if someone has a policy. Brenda can give you the information, but without the insured’s names, I’m not sure it’ll do any good.”

  A car horn honked on Jane’s side of the line. “Bite me,” she muttered. “Also, I called Kimberly. Her client agreed to let me look at the insurance forms. The Change of Beneficiary form was definitely forged. Pretty obvious. Initially the brother had the proceeds going to his kid who the sister takes care of.”

  “And it was changed to the company?”

  “Yeah. Kimberly has a good case. Of course, if they used someone to take his medical, the company won’t pay out, so either way the sister loses.”

  “Too bad. I’m sure the sister could use it.”

  “Yeah. I’ve got others sending me their insurance policies so I can check on those as well.”

  Winston pulled in front of the office. “If you’re heading back to the office, I’ll treat you to dinner.”

  “As much as I’d like that, I’m on my way to Lake City to deliver that storage unit key to the feds. Since Brenda discovered the location of the unit, I’m hoping they’ll allow me to tag along.”

  Winston grunted a laugh. “Good luck. You have a safe ride, and I’ll see you later.”

  Winston got out of the car and strolled to the office. The phone was ringing through the door as she neared. It rang four times before voicemail came on. “You have reached the offices of Black Law Firm…” When Brenda used the facilities, she always put the phones on voicemail.

  The door was unlocked. Brenda usually locked it if she was alone. She claimed whenever she headed to the bathroom the UPS man always showed up “mid-stream”.

  Papers had been strewn around the floor. Winston stopped in her tracks. A strange aroma came over her, like that of a sweaty man. She glanced around. The receiver to the telephone had been pulled away from the base and tossed on the sofa.

  “Brenda? Brenda?” Winston walked through the office calling her assistant’s name.

  In Jane’s office, the same destruction. Winston walked into hers next. Another mess. A sticky note was on the computer monitor. Just a reminder, Mom had a doctor’s appt. Will clean up tomorrow a.m. Winston had forgotten. But why the mess in the office? It reminded her of the break-in at Pamela’s.

  A phone buzzed in the backroom. Winston hurried. Brenda’s purse and cell phone were still in the cubby hole where she kept them. Winston felt her stomach drop. She glanced out the window. Brenda’s car was still in the lot.

  Winston’s own cell phone rang, causing her to jump. She glanced at the screen. An unknown number popped up.

  “Hello.” Her voice was hesitant, though she didn’t know why.

  “Winston.”

  She released a stuck breath. “Brenda, where are—”

  “I want the key and location of that storage unit.” A man’s voice came over the line, causing Winston to take a step back.

  “What storage unit?” Winston did her best to steady her voice.

  “Ask your P.I. friend.”

  Winston’s heart raced.

  “I’ll call back in an hour,” he growled. “And don’t call the cops or you’ll be looking for a new receptionist.”

  Winston stared at the telephone before dialing Jane’s number. Hopefully, she hadn’t made any promises to the F.B.I. about that key.

  Chapter 33

  Jane had tried calling the office twice for Brenda but got no answer. She even tried her cell. It was only four. Hopefully nothing happened to her mom. Winston called as she hit the Macclenny, Florida exit.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Jane.” Winston sounded out of breath. “Brenda’s gone.”

  “What are you talking about, gone? Gone where?”

  “I don’t know. He said he’d kill her.” Her voice shook over the line. “We have to find her.”

  “Who called?” Jane flipped her blinker on and took the next exit off I-10.

  “Some man, he called. He’s got her.”

  “Whoa. Wait. What man?” Jane turned on her radar detector. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “When I got back to the office, the place was a mess, and Brenda was nowhere. A man called and said he’d kill her if I didn’t give him what he wanted.”

  “What does he want?”

  “The location of the storage unit and the key. He’s going to call back in an hour.”

  “Sit tight. I’m on my way.” Jane glanced around for police as she hit eighty-five heading up the onramp onto I-10 back to Jacksonville.

  ***

  Winston hated how dark it got in February. Sprinkles of rain dotted the window, which didn’t help her mood any.

  She glanced at her watch. It’d been fifty-five minutes since she spoke with Jane. Winston paced. Hopefully Brenda was all right. Her mom was probably going crazy. Winston had called Brenda’s sister, claiming she was working late on a case. Not exactly a lie, but it might keep them from being worried.

  Dealing with a parent with Alzheimer’s, the number one thing was routine. Depending on how tonight went, this could throw Brenda’s mom’s universe upside down.

  Winston couldn’t imagine having to deal with a parent with Alzheimer’s but then, she never would. That was an issue for the state of Ohio. She prayed her parents never forgot what they’d done. They deserved to recall every
nasty moment while they wasted away in prison.

  She walked over to the window and looked out. Shoulda. The awful nickname echoed in her mind.

  Her cell phone rang, taking her from her childhood. She rushed to her desk to answer it. Jane.

  “Where are you?” Winston asked.

  “On JTB, but I’m stuck by two accidents that have every lane closed but one. I probably won’t make it before the next call. You’ll have to stall.”

  Winston knew how terrible traffic could be at this time of night. J. Turner Butler was the worst road for speeders and accidents in Jacksonville. “Stall? How?”

  “Tell him you have the key, but I know the location and you haven’t been able to reach me.” Jane’s words came out almost too fast to comprehend. “Tell him I’m in Lake City. That’s believable with all that’s going on with Yates.”

  “But what about Brenda?”

  “She’s going to be okay.”

  “I better go in case he tries to call.” Winston dropped in her chair and stared up at the ceiling.

  Could she stand to lose someone else she cared for? All her life, those around her have died violent deaths. Both her siblings, her husband. Not another. Please, God, don’t. Her fingers twisted around each other. She bounced up from the chair. Maybe she should call Charles. The police might be better able to free Brenda.

  No. The man said no police.

  She stared out her window to the parking lot across the street. Water splashed on the sidewalk from every vehicle that left the driveway.

  All those people going home to their families, unaware if things didn’t go right tonight, in the morning they’d be hearing about a tragedy for someone who worked nearby. No, she had to bring Brenda home. No matter what Jane said. She’d been the one who talked Brenda into coming to work for her. She had to get her out of this mess.

  When the phone rang, Winston jumped, her heart pounding in her chest. One hour exactly. It rang again.

  She pressed the green button with a shaky finger. “Hello,” she said.

  “Did you find it?”

  “Yes. Well, sort of.”