“It must have been tough, paying back all the money.”
“It was. He rented what was basically a one-room apartment, cut back spending all he could. Told me once if you mixed some goulash with ground beef, tomato sauce, corn, and noodles, it would last for almost a week and the total cost was about a dollar fifty a meal.”
“Did he ever get bitter or discouraged?”
Edmunds thought for a moment. “If he did he didn’t show it. At least not when I saw him. During that time, he became a born-again Christian. Maybe his faith helped him deal with all the problems. Or maybe he was just looking for a decent next life since in this one he was eating dollar-fifty meals.”
April sighed and realized she had written almost nothing in her notebook. She snapped the pen closed.
Edmunds shrugged. “I’m sure that won’t help you in your investigation, Ms Longmont. There’s nothing to prompt a murder. A few investors in Golden Sands may have wanted to murder someone, but it certainly wouldn’t have been Jerry.”
“That occurred when I was away from the city. Did anyone make any money from that project?”
“No. They dreamed big, but it turned into ashes and bankruptcy.”
April slipped her pen and notebook into her purse.
“Mr Edmunds, do you know of anyone who wished your cousin harm?”
He shook his head. “Both of us tend to be loners. I don’t think Jerry had any close friends, but he had no one who wanted to kill him either.”
5
Clay stretched in the very comfortable, cushioned chair, one of three in the waiting room. The secretary gave him a high-beam smile. Her nameplate read Loretta Sanchez, and Loretta could have won a plum job with the local chamber of commerce. Her grin and welcoming comments gave Augustine the feeling that his entry into the office was the high point of her day. Now she typed busily at her computer, looking over occasionally at Clay to make sure he was okay. It was an elegant office with thick gold carpet, tan, shiny paneling, and expensive chairs even in the waiting room. A window looked out on a small lake. A couple of ducks quacked their approval of the weather as they swam in the still waters. After a buzz, Loretta picked up her phone, then nodded.
“Mr Augustine, you can go in now.”
“Thank you.”
The nameplate on the oak-paneled door read, in Old English lettering, Roger Coakely. Augustine opened it as Coakely rose from behind his large desk and walked toward him, hand out.
“Clay Augustine. I haven’t seen you for a while. How the heck are you?” Coakely shook his hand.
“Doing well.” “You’re looking good. And looks like you’ve put on a bit of weight. This job must not be as strenuous as the district attorney’s job.”
“No, thank goodness. But I put bad guys away for almost twenty years. After that, I thought I’d take a job making a lot more money but with a lot less stress.” “Sit down, Clay.”
Coakely returned behind his desk and sat down. He smiled. “Clay, you didn’t come all the way up from Sea Oak just to say hello. What can I do for you?”
“Well, the trip wasn’t too far. Only three hours of a scenic drive.”
“So, did you come for scenery?”
A dry laugh came from Clay. “No. I’m investigating the murder of an acquaintance, Jerry Barton. At present, I can discern no motive for the crime. But I was told he was involved, at least peripherally, in a corruption case about eight years ago, one that you handled.”
Coakely thought for a moment then blinked with recognition. “Yes, spent almost a year on that case. It stretched over three counties. That was back when we had a huge construction and building boom. Money flowed, and some people wanted more than their fair share. Had a lot of bribes, and I mean a lot of bribes and some violent intimidation. Nobody was killed, but one or two men got beat up.”
“It was big, but was it unique in any way? Anything more than a corruption and bribery case?”
“Not really. City and county officials in three counties hiked their bank accounts by filing false reports. A lot of contractors used shoddy, but very cheap materials. A few union officials took money to undercut their own members. But there was nothing creative or unique to the crimes.”
“Jerry Barton was a witness in that case?”
“Yes, I remember the guy. He and another man witnessed a payoff and willingly testified. That took some courage because many men were scared off. I put one or two on the stand, and they testified they remembered nothing. Mr Barton was truthful, thank goodness. He didn’t play a major role in the case, but his testimony was valuable and helped us get convictions. Most of the defendants pled out because we had the evidence. Had wiretaps, taped conversations, questionable bank deposits, plus several men involved in the scheme turned on their bosses. I conducted only one trial and got a guilty verdict.”
“You know if Jerry received any threats?”
“Yes, everyone on the state’s witness list reported phone threats, email threats, things like that. He just shrugged it off and did the right thing.”
Clay shifted in his chair. “Roger, would some of those defendants you put in prison have been released lately? Maybe one or two men who carried a grudge?”
Coakely nodded. “That could be, but I don’t keep up with that anymore. I’m the main attorney for the Coastal Blue Medical Group. I have other concerns. But check with the district attorney down in Sea Oak, and he could tell you. I’m not sure who it is now.
“Same one. Perry Hocken. I checked.”
Coakely twisted his features as if a bad smell had drifted through the office.
“You don’t like Hocken?” Clay said.
“I…no, I didn’t like him, He just wasn’t a high-quality attorney. If he had a murder case with a signed confession and three eyewitnesses, he’d hawk it to the press to make himself look good. He was the Assistant DA for about five years when he served with me. I will admit he did good work with me on the construction scandal. If I recall, he worked more closely with Mr Barton and several other witnesses than I did, and I had no problem with his work. Admittedly, he was all right the first three years, and I didn’t have many complaints the fourth year. After that, to me, he was just running through the motions. I left about that time and never looked back. But besides that….and I didn’t like his friendship with Dean Waldrup, a defense attorney in the region with no honesty and no ethics. It always bothered me when I saw them drinking together.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I’m glad I’m in my new job. I gave the taxpayers twenty years, and I did a good job. Now I’m enjoying the money and doing a good job for all the doctors I work for.”
The churning, choppy Atlantic Ocean slapped beach sand just twenty yards away from the Southern Sails bar at the city’s waterfront. The water had turned an angry dark green as it attacked the shore. A gray had spread over the horizon. A few people strolled across the beach sand, but all wore more than a bathing suit or bikini. A chilly wind blew across the water and splattered walkers with sea spray. Walkers wore shirts or light jackets and shorts. Two candles in a holder that looked like a lifeguard tower flashed light across the table that April and Clay sat at. Two margaritas set before them. While the restaurant specialized in Southern cuisine, it had established a well-deserved reputation for excellent margaritas. Clay looked like he needed one, April thought. He didn’t look worried so much as anguished. She knew the death of Barton had affected him more than it did her. He reached for the glass and sipped the margarita. She followed and sipped her drink. Grief, she knew, takes many forms and each person deals with it in his or her own way. Clay felt a bit of grief or remorse. But he did all he could, she thought. He had actually helped Barton, which was more than anyone else did. They had shared with each other the information they had gathered during the afternoon. At times, getting words out of Clay was akin to pulling teeth, but he had slowly admitted that when he wanted to buy a gift, he always went into Nadine’s and bought it from Barton, knowing the man might get a small cut from the pr
oceeds. The conversation had been strictly business and April figured tonight it would stay that way.
“I hope he’s right,” Clay said, staring at the candle.
“Right about what?” April said.
“His faith. I’ve never been a religious man, but I hope Jerry was right in his beliefs, for his sake. It would be nice to believe he is now living a good life compared to the one he lived on this side of the grave.”
April took another sip of her drink. “And Abraham said, ‘Son, remember that in your lifetime you received good things and Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony.’”
Clay nodded. “Yes, the gospel of Luke. That story had a nice ending, at least for Lazarus.”
She smiled. “I have a little notebook I keep. Something akin to a secular devotional. I collected statements and sayings from philosophers, poets, theologians, and from books and put them in a folder. I try to read one or two every morning. I find it’s very good mental therapy. I’m vivacious, I don’t get in many moody moods, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t pondered the great questions of existence. How should we live our lives? It’s a question every human should ask. We might all have different answers, but one should ask the question.”
“That’s true.”
He shook his head, shook his whole body, and gulped down half the drink. When he spoke, the gritty voice sounded strong.
“OK, but there are other questions we must ask tonight.” He stuck his hand into the blue jacket he wore and pulled out a piece of paper which he laid on the table. “I made a short trip to the district attorney’s office today. These are three men sentenced for corruption in the building scandal eight years ago. They all have been released from prison during the last four months.”
April picked up the paper and read the names.
“Bill Lockleer, Darmont Laddigan, Ken Merkel. Know anything about them?”
“Lockleer was a union man. Laddigan a building inspector. Merkel worked for one of the construction companies. Before that no arrests.”
“Think one of them might hold a lethal grudge?”
“I don’t know. But if yes, the question is why he would focus on Jerry. Other people testified in the grand jury. He could have targeted one of them as well as Jerry. In fact, the payoff Jerry saw wasn’t to one of these men, but another guy who is still in prison. His parole hearing doesn’t come up for six months. Jerry was only one of the people who gave the state damaging information.”
He picked up his glass and drained it. An alert waitress rushed and asked if he would like another drink.
“Definitely,” he said. He looked at April. “Like anything to eat?”
“Not really hungry, but I could nibble on a few chicken wings.”
“Chicken wings and could you throw in the shrimp appetizer?” Clay said.
“Yes, sir,” the waitress said.
April leaned back on the cushioned chair. “We still don’t have much of a motive, do we?”
“No, we don’t. We don’t have many clues either. Well, we don’t have any clues.”
“Yes, in detective work you really need clues. I’m thinking for our first joint venture, the Augustine- Longmont Agency took a really difficult case. Murder of an average man.”
“Murder of an honest man,” Clay said. “Honesty can get people killed, but it’s that ‘average’ thing which is the problem. Jerry had no dark secrets in his life. He didn’t lead a double life. He wasn’t smuggling heroin.”
“Do we have an idea what our next move will be?”
“I’m going to check with Wolfson tomorrow and see if he has found any clues.”
“Will he share?”
“He might. From time to time I have tipped off the police department on a few matters. They’ve used it to put bad guys away. So, I have a few poker chips I can cash in.”
April rapped on the table with her fingernails. “Wait a minute. His cousin said Jerry’s wife was named Teela. But at the repair shop didn’t he ask about a woman named…. what was her name?”
“Martha. Martha Emersall. But she has no connection to the case.”
“So why was he asking about her?”
Augustine showed a wry smile. “Martha Emersall was the woman who Jerry loved. But she married someone else.”
April choked as the waitress placed the plate of chicken wings and shrimp in front of her.
“I would ask for details, but that’s an incredibly sad tale, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Clay said.
“Then I don’t want to hear it.”
A soft rain began falling. It pitter-pattered on the roof and sprinkled the ocean and sand with dots. Murmurs of conversation flowed from the restaurant. A waitress brought them two more drinks. April took a bite out of a chicken wing while Clay forked a large shrimp and dipped it in the sauce.
“Anything else I can get for you?” the waitress asked.
“No, thank you. We’re fine.”
For a few minutes as they ate, the only sound was rain slapping the roof and pavement. The walkway to the restaurant was dark with rain, but the waves were calm as if the rain had been a natural tranquilizer.
“I took the dogs. They’re at my place now. I have a good-sized backyard too. They should enjoy it. Of course, they miss their owner. Especially Baxter. When I look at him I can tell he’s not at his best,” Clay said.
“He probably won’t be for a couple of days. Then he’ll adjust. Dogs are more loyal than humans.”
Augustine wiped his lips with a napkin. “I still have the key to Jerry’s old house. Never got to give it to him. But I did talk to the owner. He was shocked when he heard of Jerry’s death, said the man was a fine tenant, one of the best renters he ever had and he was kind enough to say I could go over and look around. I want to see if there’s anything in the house that might be the clue we’re looking for.”
“But the police have already searched there.”
“I’m not sure they searched. It was a simple murder scene to them. Maybe there’s something there that will help in the case. I was going over after dinner. Want to come with me?”
April nodded. “Well, I was hoping we could take a midnight nude swim but since it’s raining….”
For a moment, she wondered if she made a social blunder. She held her breath. Perhaps this wasn’t time for joking, much less a risqué remark. She kept her breath in for half a minute, then Clay smiled. It was a comforting sound
“Not that a midnight nude swim doesn’t sound good. It does. But….”
April smiled. “The job comes first. Jerry comes first.”
“Yes.” For the first time that night he looked relaxed, the strain in his features blown away by the wind and rain.
“And…to be truthful I’m afraid with a midnight swim I might get distracted. In this case, I can’t do that.” He reached over again, and his fingers grazed her cheek. The tone of his raspy voice lowered as he spoke softly and slowly. “You are so beautiful, and I sense you could be very, very distracting.”
She picked up her glass. “Clay, that is so very sweet. It’s one of the most romantic things anyone has ever said to me.”
He raised his glass. “To a midnight swim after the case is over.”
She nodded and clicked her glass on his.
As they left the restaurant, Clay turned toward the beach, not the parking lot. They walked across the sand and stopped at the edge of the water. A blue crescent moon hung in the sky like a vertical smile. The light flickered over the white caps speckling the dark ocean with blue. He said nothing just looked into the Atlantic.
April stepped back a minute. A surge of emotion spread through her loins, but there was something more than physical reaction with Clay. His dedication to an acquaintance gave him, in her eyes, a moral gravitas and that only increased the attraction. She slapped her forehead lightly. How could she have been attracted, even for a moment, to Chuck whose character could be described as infantile
at best. His humor was really just silliness. If he was ever serious, it was because he was complaining. There is an old saying that love is blind. If not blind, it does seem to have myopia from time to time.
Clay turned and walked back to her, giving her a huge grin.
“Sorry, just got a bit distracted. I hate to admit this, but even though Jerry was only an acquaintance, his death has hit me hard. I don’t think I’m functioning at 100 percent.”
“You’re functioning fine, Clay. Believe me. You’re functioning very fine.”
“I want to thank you, April, for helping me. I appreciate it. I will remember it, always.”
She grasped his hand with her right hand and patted it with her left hand.
“I’m just going to guarantee that the Augustine-Longmont Agency will have a 100 percent success rate.”
6
Barton’s house was dark and silent. Clay fitted the key and flicked on the living room light when he opened the door. The darkness fled, but the silence stayed. He walked through the house switching on a few more lights. He kept thinking a big dog and a small dog would run up to him soon. But nothing that had four legs walked on the carpet.
“You know we don’t know what we’re looking for,” April said.
“Not until we find it.”
“If we find it.”
The living room was bare. The house was relatively clean. Mail was piled up in the small second-floor room Barton used as an office. Only bills and advertisements. Clay skimmed through it then tossed the letters back on the desk. He started to walk out then turned back to the mail and picked it up. Then shook his head.
“Something wrong?”
“No, I was just noticing the mail and the room,” Clay said. “The room is very impersonal. No pictures of friends or Jerry with a girlfriend. No pictures of his family.” He pointed to two gold frames on the desk. “Two photos of him with his dogs. Don’t get me wrong. They’re good pictures, and Jerry has a big smile. The dogs look happy too. But everything else here is…. kind of austere. I don’t have a lot of photos or memorabilia in my home either, but…it’s telling.”
A Sea Oak Mystery Boxed Set Page 14