by Kim Davis
I told myself not to interrupt, but I had to ask after he said “we.” “You worked with your brother?”
He nodded. “I convinced my baby brother to join the vice squad with me. Dylan became the first one shot in that ambush and died in my arms. I blame myself for his death as much as I blame Tori.”
“There might have been a lot of different reasons they knew you planned the arrests. Why do you suspect it was Tori?”
“The night of his death was brutal on me, on our family, but Tori remained conspicuously absent.” Randall’s nostrils flared, and his eyes turned flinty. He pressed his lips into a hard line and rubbed the back of his neck. “Aside from responding to the text I sent her about Dylan, she wouldn’t answer her phone. I went to his apartment to make sure she was okay. Tori, along with all her stuff, had disappeared. Except for several cases of stolen cigarettes left behind to besmirch my brother’s name. Internal affairs got involved and suspected that he had been smuggling stolen merchandise out of the evidence room and selling it. He had far more money in his bank accounts than there should have been on his salary.”
“But they had no proof, did they?”
“No. He was conveniently dead and couldn’t explain any of it. But I knew my brother. He never, ever would have stolen or sold that stuff. I ended up resigning. I couldn’t stand the whispering. My coworkers looked at me, always wondering if I might be dirty like my brother.”
“What do you think really happened?”
“I’m sure Tori had someone on the inside stealing the merchandise from the evidence room, and she sold it. My brother became an expedient and dead scapegoat to place the crime on.” He shook his head. “I’ve uncovered a few things while investigating Tori these last two years that make me suspect she was also involved in a money-laundering scheme. Her salon is a convenient front. I’m sure latching on to law enforcement officers was an amusement, not the main way she made her money.”
“But what about the money? How did it get in your brother’s account?”
“Tori had access to his accounts and probably put just enough there to throw him under the bus. I’m sure she kept most of the money. Dylan was lax in any kind of paperwork and wouldn’t have noticed his balances.” Randall chuckled, but his laughter sounded forced to me. “He was always behind in filing reports for work and wouldn’t turn them in until our sergeant threatened him with a desk job.”
“Still, maybe Tori left because she became afraid for her life?” I wondered why I tried to stand up for her, but I wanted to know the whole story. I thought my questions might prompt Randall’s memory.
“The more I looked into Tori’s past, the more the same pattern emerged. My brother wasn’t the first one, and I’m sure not the last. I’m also sure she never worked alone. She has someone behind the scenes orchestrating the thefts and selling the merchandise.”
It made sense. Philip would never get involved in something like that, but Tori probably had been manipulating him, which meant that her handler might still be around and active. Yet, Randall knew a lot about this stuff. Could he be the one who broke in? Tori might have hidden the artwork in my dresser and told Randall where to find it before she was murdered. Did he have the means to kill her? I worried that, if he did, he might hope I’d give him the painting or tell him where it was.
“Apparently, she started up the same process with Philip. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but after he moved out, I found a small painting that Tori might have stolen. Of course, Detective Jackson says I stole it and is coming back with a search warrant.” I figured it best to be upfront that the police were in possession of the piece. He couldn’t do anything to get it back now… if he was the mastermind behind this.
“I’m happy to talk to the detective and explain Tori’s background and my theories, if you think it’d help.”
“That would be great!” I hoped he could convince Detective Jackson of my innocence. But doing that would mean throwing Philip under the bus, so to speak. “I found large sums of money missing, plus Philip took out a second mortgage on our home on top of borrowing money from my mother. We’re up to our eyeballs in debt.”
“Sounds like Tori was taking advantage and bleeding you dry.”
“But I had no idea it was happening.”
Randall lifted his eyebrows at me. “You never noticed any indication he had an affair with Tori either.”
Chapter 22
When I thought about it, I realized I had spent little time with Philip in the last couple of years. He worked the graveyard shift, came home, and crashed into bed as I was getting up and going to work. My husband was generally gone by the time I got home from work, and he worked weekends. Typically, his midweek days off were supposedly spent with buddies. He took me out to dinner occasionally after I complained, but then he slipped right back into his pattern of never being around. I blamed it on his job, but apparently the problem was Tori.
“What will happen to Philip? He’ll lose his job, won’t he?”
“It depends on if they can prove he was involved in Tori’s illegal activities. They’ll probably start with a polygraph test and take it from there. He won’t be fired just because he had an affair with her.”
“I would feel terrible about that. His life revolves around his career as a police officer.”
“Wouldn’t you feel worse if he used his position to steal from people?”
“You’re right. I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Things were looking bleak for both Mr. and Mrs. Martinez.
“Ma’am, I’m done with the window.” The glazier stood in the doorway, a sheet of paper in his hands.
The invoice. I gulped, retrieved my credit card, and handed him the plastic. Peter would have to rob Paul to make ends meet for the time being. While the man swiped the card, I took the invoice from him and glanced at the bottom figure… and gulped again. When did glass get so expensive?
I used the pad of my finger to sign my name on the touch screen of his iPhone and gave him my email address for the receipt. It probably wasn’t worth the trouble of turning it in to our homeowner’s insurance, but at least I had it if other expenses occurred because of the break-in.
“Would you like a few freshly baked chocolate chip cookies to take with you?”
“No thank you, ma’am. I’m diabetic, but they sure smell good. I’ll let myself out. Thanks for your business.”
“Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
I followed him to the front door. “I’ll lock up after you leave, since I’m still a bit worried after that break-in.”
“It’s completely understandable. Have a good evening.”
After locking the front door, I inspected my new window. Everything seemed neat and clean, except for the jumble of clothes I had stuffed in the closet. From appearances, the glazier had even managed to clean up all the little shards of glass I couldn’t get. I glanced at my watch and realized my mother would be unhappy with me if I didn’t get to her house soon.
When I returned to the kitchen, Piper was still conked out, and Randall was checking his phone. I yawned. The past few days were catching up with me. “I’m sorry for the interruption, but I need to get to my mother’s house. She’s an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of woman, so I don’t want to disrupt her too much.”
Randall grinned. “And I suppose you’re a night owl?”
“Not hardly. But I stay up later than my mother.” I yawned again. A big, unladylike yawn. “Thank you for telling me about your brother. It’s hard to believe Tori could be the cause of so much grief for so many families.”
“She was ruthless, and she finally got what she deserved.”
Whoa, this man was bitter. Maybe he killed her, but why was he hanging out with her in the first place when I met him? It was strange he would socialize with her at all.
Once again, my curiosity won out. “If you thought she was responsible for the death of your brother, why did you go to the bar with us and hang out like old frie
nds?”
“Because I’m sure she was the front for the theft ring. She was arrogant enough to think I suspected nothing and made up all kinds of excuses for why she disappeared.” He ran his fingers through his short-cropped hair. “I want to take down the people who are ultimately responsible for my brother’s murder. Unfortunately, someone killed her before I could find out who that is.”
My phone chimed with a text from my mother. I knew what the message said without looking at it.
“I’m so sorry, but I really have to leave. Thank you for telling me about your brother.” I patted his arm, wanting to convey my sympathy but not sure what else to do.
I didn’t want him to get any ideas if I hugged him. That was too dangerous.
“Please let me know what Detective Jackson says after you talk to him about Tori.”
Randall gave Piper one more pat and then gave me a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for the cookies. I’ll call you soon.”
As soon as I locked the front door behind him, I rushed to pack a toothbrush and nightie. I grabbed food for Piper and her fleece blanket then snapped a leash onto her collar. She was instantly awake, and she half dragged me to the door.
“Sorry, sweetie, no time for a walk.” I pulled her toward the door leading to the garage while texting Mother that we were on our way. “We’ll go once we get to Mother’s house.”
Piper’s cold nose nudged my hand, pulling me from a dreamless sleep. I had slept deeply for the first since I had stumbled over Tori’s body. My stay with Mother and Lars wasn’t such a bad thing, although the thought made me shiver when I worried it might be longer than a night or two. I glanced at the bedside clock. It was only seven. Beside me, Piper whined.
“Okay, I’m getting dressed.”
I threw on the same clothes I had worn yesterday and stumbled down the stairs, trying to keep up with Piper. When I walked past the kitchen, the aromatic scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, but I didn’t see either Mother or Lars. After grabbing Piper’s leash and checking to make sure the house alarm had been turned off, I took my dog for a walk.
The sun was already heating the air. Today would be another scorcher. The rest of the country might laugh at us coastal southern California natives when we complained about summer heat when the mercury hit over eighty degrees. The same was true of winter cold. We complained it was too cold if the temperature dipped below sixty-eight. What could I say? We were spoiled that way and had unreasonable expectations for what perfect weather should be.
After Piper did her business, we returned home, and I grabbed a cup of coffee. I settled into a cushy patio chair beneath a sun umbrella and sipped the coffee while checking emails on my cell phone. The soothing sound of the rock waterfall feature on my parents’ pool relaxed me. I hadn’t looked at Facebook since my notorious photo with Randall went viral, and I wondered if I should delete my account. Unfortunately, that account was the only way I had kept in contact with several old high school and college friends, and I didn’t want to lose that connection.
I logged in and scrolled through the news feed, catching up on baby photos and vacations posted by my various friends. I noticed a private message in my inbox, so I clicked to open it. The message was from Bandboy, a band classmate from high school who played in the clarinet section with me. He had been a nerd back then. Black-framed glasses, buck teeth, terrible acne, and hair that had obviously been cut by his mother. I thought he had been crushing on me throughout high school, but once I made sure he knew we were pals and nothing more, we had become close friends. We lost touch after he moved away to college, and for the life of me, I couldn’t even remember where he had planned on attending. Some friend I was.
When he sent me a friend request a few months ago, I had no trouble recognizing him, even though he had registered his name as Bandboy Rules. His real name was Brad Ruller. He used his high school graduation photo as his profile picture. I hoped he had outgrown his geekiness, but I wasn’t sure, since most of his posts on Facebook were about marching bands. I knew nothing about his adult life other than his obsession with bands. Curious, I opened the message.
Hi Emory, don’t know if u remember me? We were in the clarinet section in band together in hi school. I’m in town for the next few days and wondered if we could grab coffee or a drink. Here’s my cell # so text me. 555-555-1234. Btw, great viral pic - u look like ur a party girl now :)
Chapter 23
Why couldn’t people just forget they saw that photo? I hoped Bandboy wasn’t renewing his crush. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, though, so I sent a quick text saying I’d meet him for coffee. He had been a sensitive teenager, and I remembered his dad had taken off with another woman around the time we started high school. I was sure that was why we bonded so quickly. I had lived through my father doing the same thing, and my heart still hurt from his betrayal.
Bandboy’s (I had a hard time thinking of him as Brad) mother had never worked before her husband left, so money was always tight. He confided in me when we were sophomores that all his clothes came from thrift stores and that he and his mother ate a lot of beans and rice because they didn’t cost much. The other non-band kids at school were cruel to him, even though he was super-smart. I hoped life had treated him well.
My phone chimed with a text asking if I could meet at Starbucks in downtown Huntington Beach this afternoon. Sure, why not? I didn’t have a job, and there was nowhere I needed to be. I hoped I still had money loaded on my Starbucks gift card. It would take some getting used to not shelling out four dollars for a cup of coffee any time I wanted.
My mother stepped out on the patio, so I confirmed the time to meet Bandboy and then put my phone down. She wore cream-colored slacks and a pastel floral silk blouse, while every hair on her head appeared perfectly coiffed and her makeup expertly applied. I felt grubby next to her.
“Good morning, darling.” She ignored Piper, who was rubbing up against her, trying to beg for a pat. “I hope you slept well.”
“I haven’t slept this great since… well, it’s been a long time.” There was no need to bring up the dead body. “Anyway, thanks for letting me stay here last night.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll have Beatrice strip the sheets and wash the towels later this morning.” She finally caved in to Piper’s persistence and gave my dog a halfhearted pat on the head. “I’m on my way to a board meeting this morning, but I’m sure you can find cereal or oatmeal on your own, if you’re hungry. I also put extra boxes by the front door so you can get your house packed up.”
My mother disappeared back into the house, and I realized I’d been dismissed and told to go back to my own home. I sighed and took another sip of my coffee. Time to put my big-girl panties on and hope no one tried to break into my house again.
“There’s something I forgot to tell you.” She stepped back onto the stone patio.
Startled, I jumped at the sound of her voice and choked on the coffee I was trying to swallow. Once I stopped coughing and wiped the blurry tears from my eyes, I looked at her.
“I talked to Philip last night, and he’s agreed to sign the real estate contract right away. A meeting’s scheduled with the agent tomorrow morning at nine sharp at the condo. She already has a client slated to see it at ten, so I suggest you hurry home and get it ready for the walk-through.”
Her heels clicked back onto the travertine floor, and she closed the front door. I pulled Piper into my lap and buried my face in her fur. How could I explain to my mother that Detective Jackson would tear apart any boxes I packed once he got his search warrant? I wasn’t sure who I was more afraid of, my mother or the detective.
“Come on, Piper. Let’s go home and see if we can do something to make them both happy.”
As I waited for the gate to open so I could leave my mother’s neighborhood, my phone chimed with another text. Bandboy wanted to meet now. I drove through the opened wrought-iron gate and pulled to the curb to text him that I was leaving Irvine but nee
ded to drop Piper off at home first.
Brad responded before I could put the car into drive. Have outdoor table. Bring Piper. I’ll get Puppuccino.
After sending a thumbs-up emoji, I made my way to downtown Huntington Beach. The sky was brilliant and clear, while the bright morning sun made the Pacific Ocean sparkle. I rolled down the windows as we cruised the Pacific Coast Highway. Piper was in heaven sniffing the smells of the sand and sea. The long Huntington Beach pier, with the iconic red-roofed restaurant at the end, attracted numerous tourists and fishermen alike, and the pier looked busy even though it was still early in the day.
As we sat at a stoplight, I caught glimpses of several surfers catching the pounding waves, their wetsuits reflecting the sunlight. Even though it was summer, the water remained fairly chilly, especially if you spent any amount of time in it. I thought about my times spent at the beach as a child and my mother telling me to come out of the water. Even when my teeth were chattering and my skin covered with goose bumps, I had always insisted I wasn’t cold.
We circled a few blocks before finding parking. Once I snapped the leash on to Piper’s collar, she pulled me toward the beach. She must have remembered being taken to the dog beach last summer. Piper loved frolicking in the sand and surf with all the other dogs. She had so much fun, but it had taken me weeks to get all the sand out of her fur, even though I bathed her several times and brushed her every day. We hadn’t been back since.
We arrived at Starbucks, and I searched the outside tables for Bandboy. Certain he wasn’t the same geeky kid I knew in high school, I still saw no one who resembled him. I glanced at my watch when a deep masculine voice called my name.