Sirens in the distance signaled the approach of an ambulance. As we drew closer, a tall, slim man I estimated to be somewhere around six-three or four, turned around and looked right at us. He sported a very impressive mustache, almost reminiscent of the Old West, and wore cowboy boots.
“Just awful, ain’t it,” he drawled in a voice heavy with a twang. “Didn’t see it happen, but those ones did.” He pointed to the group of people with the police officers. “From what I could hear, sounded like a car just shot out of the lot and went right at the poor woman.”
Another bystander added, “I was pretty far away, but it looked like she was going toward her car when—and I swear this is what I saw—that idiot just speeded up and smacked right into her. Saw the body fly up in the air even though I was a ways away. Whoever it was kept driving like the wind. Outta sight in a flash.”
A plump woman wearing a flowered butterfly top and body-hugging Capri pants added, “God rest her soul, poor thing.”
Kim threw me a frightened look. Her voice shook when she said, “Kate? Oh God, I hope it wasn’t Kate.”
I was about to panic myself, when I spotted Kate at the edge of the crowd. Breathing a sigh of relief, I pointed in her direction. “No. There she is.” As we got closer, I saw the crumpled body of a woman lying face down in a pool of blood. Police held the gathered crowd back from the gruesome scene.
Grateful it wasn’t our friend and shocked at the reality of the broken body, I reasoned that it must have happened shortly before Kate got to the lot.
Then a heartbeat later Kate was standing beside us. She whispered, “I’m afraid that’s the woman I was supposed to meet. She left before I got there. She called me. I’ll tell you what happened, but I think we still have to cover ourselves. Follow my lead in case anyone is watching us.”
Her eyes clouded with tears. She gulped a few times, trying to hold them back, then loud enough for anyone who might be watching us to hear, she said in a forced cheery voice, “Oh my goodness! Nancy Stanton. Why I haven’t seen you in months. Where have you been keeping yourself? New boyfriend? If not, I hope you’ve been busy with something exciting.”
Catching her drift, I replied, “Marcy. For heaven’s sake. Nope. Just been busy as can be at work. We have to do lunch. Just call me. We’ll set something up. The regular place on Vermont? This is so awful, isn’t it ?”
Just like years ago, that was a signal to meet at a Denny’s—one of those places where you could blend into the woodwork without attracting much attention. From the look in her eyes I saw she remembered passing one near Beverly on the way to the Observatory. Apparently, what she had to tell us couldn’t wait for the drive back to my house. Either that, or she was too shaken to drive that far.
I headed down Vermont until I spotted the familiar yellow and red sign just north of Beverly on the East side of the street. Kate’s car was already in a parking space. As cloak and dagger went, this was very cloakish and daggerish if those are words. Maybe a little too much for my tastes.
We spotted her seated in a booth, concern all over her face. We slid in across from her.
Keeping her voice low, Kate said, “I was only in the Ladies Room for a moment when my cell rang. It was the woman. She said that she was right—she was positive she was being watched, so she left to protect me. However, she told me before she left she hid an envelope containing two flash drives in the third stall, behind the commode. She said, ‘Get the envelope and get out of there as quickly as you can. I’ll contact you later.’”
My friend took a shaky breath. “Um, like I said, I’m pretty sure she was the hit and run victim, and I don’t think it was an accident. I think it was murder.”
12
BEFORE KATE COULD SAY anything else, our waitress interrupted. “Hello ladies. Have you decided what you want?” She flashed a tired smile and shifted from foot to foot as though she felt some pain. On second look, she appeared to be in her sixties with neatly combed silver gray hair and thick glasses that gave her a somewhat grandmotherly look. I hoped she hadn’t overheard what Kate said.
“Give us a few minutes, please.” I returned her smile. “We haven’t had a chance to look at the menu.” She nodded and walked away. Fortunately it was an off-hour and there were very few people in the restaurant. None of them were seated near us.
Kim said, “Why do you think it was murder? Couldn’t it just have been an accident that scared the driver and they took off?”
“Good try,” Kate answered, “but that doesn’t work for me. First of all, there was her message about why she left the restroom and the fact that she hid the flash drives I have in my purse. Then, witnesses saw the car speed up on purpose, hit her and take off like a jet. Too coincidental, for my money. I’ll know more when I’m able to see what’s on the flash drives. Obviously she thought it was important, or incriminating enough to risk getting it to me. That poor woman.”
As it turned out, Kate wasn’t up to making the drive to my house until she had time to reconcile what happened and calm down. We sat there for about an hour-and-a-half nursing cups of coffee and trying to force down some food. The only outcome was that we all felt a little nauseous.
Finally I said, “Maybe you should just look at the flash drives and if anything seems crooked, turn them over to the police. After what happened to the woman, I am afraid for you to get involved.”
She fixed me with one of her Kate stares. The one that communicates nonverbally that she wasn’t about to back down. “Okay, let’s wait to see what this woman was onto. I’m worried if I turn this over, unless it is something that’s clear cut criminal activity and not speculation, it will fall into a black hole. I don’t want her to have given her life for that. Are you in or out?”
It was easy to see she was going to investigate with or without us. Kim was the first to speak. “I’m in. Between this and the real reason I’m here, I can see this is going to be a very busy time. I have lots of vacation time accrued. Maybe I should take off some more time from work and tell Nathan I’ll be staying longer. He’ll be fine with it. And, you’re right. If what she found was enough to get her killed, we can’t let that be the end of it. Are you sure there’s no way to connect you to her?”
Kate hesitated for a moment, while she appeared to put the mental puzzle pieces together. “No, I don’t think so. I mean, as a visitor to the Observatory it would have been perfectly logical for me to use the Ladies Room. By her leaving before I got there, even if someone was watching her, I don’t think there is any way they would tie me to her just because I went into that restroom. I was in and out in a few minutes. And, we used all of those burner phones to communicate, never using one more than once. No, unless I’ve missed something, I think I’m safe. Like I said, what’s on these drives must be worth the risk she took.”
Wow. I’d begun to feel like my ire at Jonathan Reid for dousing me with a drink was child’s play compared to this. This was the real deal, and who knew where it would lead. As for Cunningham, he was still at the top of my list for payback, but I figured I had it pretty much under control and it was heading exactly where I wanted it to go. I rationalized that I could get involved in this, too. In fact, I wanted to get involved. I’d have to be careful not to let Milt know what we were up to, because he would worry and plead with me to stay away from it.
Our waitress came back at that point to see if we wanted anything else. She sure did look like a caring grandmother. “I’ll be going off shift in a few minutes,” she said. “Just wanted to see if there was anything else I can get you.”
We thanked her and said we were just about to leave.
Back at the house, Kate booted her laptop and slid the flash drive marked “1” in black marker into the port on the laptop. There was only one file—a video recording.
All three of us watched as the image of a young woman who appeared to be in her late twenties filled the screen. She wasn’t exactly pretty, but had a pleasant face framed by beautiful long light brown hai
r. Her lips were a little too full but didn’t look like they were shot full of silicone, and she possessed a nose that fit her face perfectly. It was her haunted eyes that got us. She began to speak.
“Kate, my real name is Marjory Newfield. I’m recording this so you will know how to evaluate what is on the other flash drive if for some reason I can’t tell you in person.”
Her eyes looked a little moist now, as though she was holding back tears. “I’m afraid I’ve gotten into more than I thought this would be. and I am really scared. The other drive contains copies of every questionable transaction for the bank’s potential buyer I discussed with you. I actually did something I probably shouldn’t have, but I hacked into some of his accounts, and could lose my job over that, if I survive this. If anyone traced the hack to me—”
Her voice trailed off like she couldn’t bear to say what she feared might happen.
Kate paused the video. We looked at each other with tears in our eyes when she said, “This makes me even more certain that she was the hit and run victim.” She pressed the play arrow.
“You will see from the other drive that this is most likely a much bigger fraud than I thought it was at first. I don’t believe this man is who he represents himself to be—someone with an interest in being part of a legitimate investment group. Maybe the buyers are really a mob or a cartel, and they’re using this man along with some others with reliable reputations as their front. I didn’t investigate the others, but I really believe it’s possible he isn’t the only one who could be a phony.”
Kate paused the video again. “The last time we spoke, she said she would reveal the name of the person she suspects when we met. I hope it’s either on this recording or the documents on the other one give us the name—or perhaps names. It’s beginning to feel like she recorded this as a precaution. I didn’t realize she was so young. I mean, her voice sounded more mature. So, Kim, are you going to make that call to Nathan?”
There was a sparkle in Kim’s eyes when she said, “I’m in. If financial records are involved I’m the one with the expertise to unravel whatever she discovered. After all, I am a CPA.
While visions tumbled through my head I said aloud, “So it’s the three of us again. I have to admit I am a little afraid we might be treading in hot water, but I also agree that if we turn these drives over to the police the whole thing could go into limbo, and I can’t be part of letting that happen.”
If we were at Kim’s house in Seattle back in the days of FACR, when we were faced with serious stuff like this she always broke out some outrageous dessert and we would brainstorm on a sugar high. I just happened to have a chocolate cherry cheesecake on hand, figuring I would use it when I told them what was going on with Reid and Cunningham. This horrible turn of events today was a much better, if very sad, reason to turn to sweets.
13
KIM SAID NOTHING FOR quite a while, and neither did we. It was so quiet I could almost hear the air moving through the room. A slight wind had kicked up outside, and we sat there watching the trees waving back and forth like ballet dancers.
Finally she spoke. “I agree that we shouldn’t turn this over to the police, but I am positive we should run this past Nathan before we go any farther. If what she said is supported by the documents on the other flash drive, and this person or persons are a front for a mob or cartel trying to pull off buying a bank, it’s possible that they are already under Federal surveillance. If they are, and we jump in, it could blow anything that they have already done. Plus, this flash drive might have information that will push it over the edge.”
Silence prevailed again as Kate and I mulled over what she said. Kim was always the logical one, and what she said did make sense. They could be under surveillance by the FBI, the DEA or even Homeland Security and the AFT or the Border Patrol if guns were involved. We would never be forgiven if we messed up something that any of those agencies were tracking. In fact, it might even result in charges of obstruction of justice or whatever they call interference in an active case. Not only that, but with his wife involved, Nathan could bear the brunt of our foul up. We could be jumping into something we might not be able to climb out of.
Kate spoke first. “Let’s look at that second drive. I’m leaning toward agreeing with you and—“
I interrupted. “So am I. Sorry for breaking in, Kate. Finish what you were saying.”
“—and, it’s entirely possible that what Marjory Newfield gave her life for is really important evidence. If it helps bring down the purchase of a bank, most likely for the sole purpose of laundering money, there could be a reward for this evidence. I don’t know if she had family, but we could find out and maybe make sure they receive whatever reward there is.”
“Hold that thought,” I said, then went into the kitchen to get the chocolate cherry cheesecake. A decision this important had to be discussed over something delicious. That strategy always worked for us before.
Kate was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace when I came back into the living room carrying a platter with the cheesecake, four plates, forks and napkins. Kim sat on the sofa with her legs curled up beneath her. Both of my friends wore serious expressions.
When I set the platter down on the coffee table, Kate stopped pacing and said, “Maybe we need some coffee to go with this. Would that be too much trouble?”
“No trouble at all, but I think we have to decide what we’re going to do about this before it’s too late to call Nate. Whatever we do, we’ll have to act on it right away. After all, you do make valid points, Kate. Let’s see if there is anything on the news about what happened at the observatory. The cheesecake and coffee can wait a few minutes.”
Before I bought this house I never liked having a TV in my living room, but I loved this room so much I wanted to spend as much time in it as possible. Besides, with flat screen TVs that hang on the wall, a TV isn’t an intrusion like the old huge big screen models. Mine was a seventy inch Smart TV. Sometimes when I read or sat there just looking at my wonderful view, I tuned to YouTube and put on a video that looked exactly like an aquarium with exotic tropical fish swimming around.
I tuned to the 5 O’Clock local news.
Sure enough, after a predictable report about tension in the Middle East, a few local shootings and a Hollywood wacko wandering around Hollywood Boulevard attempting to anoint people because he was convinced he was Jesus Christ, the reporter’s expression grew solemn. She didn’t flash a false smile like some did when reporting awful news.
A video shot earlier played with her reporting live from Griffith Observatory, a cordon of police cars and throng of bystanders in the background.
“This is Deborah Rashid reporting from Griffith Observatory where a young woman’s life came to a tragic end today in an apparent hit and run accident.” She turned and swept the tableau behind her with her right arm. “It happened right here. From the driver’s license in her handbag, the victim has been identified as Marjory Newfield of Los Angeles. I have been informed she died before the ambulance arrived. Witnesses say the car appeared to speed up, aiming right for her. No further details are available at this time, but maybe it was not an accident.”
She turned and walked over to a small group of people, one woman and two men. “I’m going to get first-hand accounts from three of the witnesses. She approached a short young man who looked very scholarly. He wore dark framed glasses, had neatly combed dirty blond hair, and his light blue shirt with the button-down collar was open at the neck. He carried a case that probably held a laptop.
“What can you tell us about this tragic event?”
After clearing his throat a few times, he said, “I was walking toward the lot when I noticed her. I guess I noticed because from a distance I thought she was attractive. She seemed to be in a real hurry, though. All of a sudden this car shot out of one of the parking lanes and headed right for her. The next thing I saw—”
He covered his eyes as though not wanting to see the mom
ent she was hit. When he opened them, tears rested on his lower lids. “I—I saw it hit her and her body flew up into the air. I don’t know if I’ll ever get that image out of my mind.” He gulped, then said, “Sorry.”
“Did you happen to be close enough to recognize the model of the car or see the driver?”
The poor young man appeared close to meltdown. “Um, no. It was such a shock I think my mind blanked out everything but the poor woman flying through the air.”
“Thank you Mr., er—“
Higgenbottom, Horace Higgenbottom.” He moved away into the parking area.
She held the mic up to a woman who seemed nervous to be on camera. “What is your name?”
“Uh, Sarah Qualpepper. I’m just visitin’ here from Oklahoma City. I heard it was dangerous in Los Angeles, but never thought I would see someone killed.” She stifled a sob.
“Well, sometimes the reports of dangers in LA are a bit exaggerated, but I’m so sorry you had to witness this. I understand you were closer to the accident than Mr. Higgenbottom. Can you tell me what you saw?”
Sarah Qualpepper patted her chest, then fanned her face. “I thought I was about to faint when I saw it. This white car, not very different than so many in this area, went straight for that poor girl.” She reached into her large orange tote bag and pulled out a handkerchief. “Sorry, I’m just all aflutter.”
Sarah was a large woman who appeared to weigh about two hundred fifty pounds or more. Despite her Bermuda shorts and sleeveless flowered top she was sweating profusely. She swiped the handkerchief across her forehead, took a deep breath and continued. “I couldn’t see no face or anything, but it was a man drivin’. I’m sure of that. I just caught a glimpse of his dark hair, sort of longish it was, but definitely a man.”
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