by Dana Dratch
A real detective would have been popping that trunk about now. For me, there wasn’t enough money in the world.
CHAPTER 23
Since Geoffrey lived on three, that seemed like the logical place to start. Plus, as the treasurer, he was the money guy. I hoped having my sister in his home would dazzle him enough to spill a few pertinent details.
It was a cheap ploy. But it was pretty much all we had.
As Annie stood in front of his door, I took a giant step to the side—out of range of the peephole.
“What?” my sister asked.
“One woman looks like a meet-cute. Two looks like we’re collecting for the PTA. Or recruiting for one of those storefront churches.”
She grinned, smoothed her shiny hair, and rapped lightly on the door.
I could have sworn I heard a TV. But a lot of people leave the television on while they’re at work. It’s supposed to discourage criminals. I think it just advertises that you have a nice TV.
After half a minute, Annie rapped again—louder this time.
“Geez, Geoffrey, there’s a supermodel on your doorstep,” I hissed. “Talk about opportunity knocking.”
“Shhhh!” she warned.
A half minute more and nothing.
“Let’s go,” my sister said, suddenly bolting.
“Give it one more try,” I said, as I trailed her back down the hall and into the stairwell. “He might have been in the bathroom. Or changing his clothes.”
“There was someone in there,” she whispered, once the stairwell door closed. “I could see shadows moving behind the peephole. And I swear I saw an eyeball.”
As we hit the second landing, we passed Marilyn Doyle.
“Well, hello, girls,” she said brightly. “Boy, these stairs are really something,” she added, putting one hand to her abundant chest. “Just going down to visit Ethel. I hear she has an adorable houseguest.”
“I just hope Lucy’s behaving herself,” Annie said. “She can be a handful.”
“Ethel says the same thing about Mrs. Pickles. I swear that little snowball has the biggest personality. And she always looks like she’s smiling. Well, see you later.” And with a friendly wave, she was off.
When we ended up in the sixth floor hallway, I pulled my sister aside. “You didn’t say anything to Ethel about what we were doing tonight, did you?”
“What do you take me for?” she asked incredulously. “If I did that, it would have been halfway around the building before we even knocked on Geoffrey’s door. We haven’t got much going for us at this point, but at least we have the element of surprise.”
Did I say she was smart, or what?
“Hey, I’m just trying to figure out why he didn’t open the door to a supermodel,” I said.
“Maybe he prefers brunettes. Or maybe he’s shy. Or maybe he’s gay.”
“Or maybe he has Leslie trussed up in his bathroom,” I said.
“In that case, he also has my sympathies,” she said. “Come on, Dennis and Grace’s place is this way.”
Annie knocked, and the door opened almost immediately. A tall Asian man with a phone to his ear looked first at Annie, then at me. He was wearing jeans, a navy golf shirt, and had bare feet.
“Hi, Dennis,” Annie said in her most engaging tone. “This is my sister, Alex. Do you mind if we come in for just a minute?”
“Aw, not you too,” he said softly.
“No, Bob, not you,” he shouted into the cell. “Look, I’m telling you, for the last time, I have no idea what’s going on. And if I knew it was going to be like this, I never would have volunteered for the damned board!”
He clicked off from his phone call.
“I wish I could turn this damned thing off,” he said, staring at the phone. “It’s been ringing nonstop all afternoon. Like I’d know where the hell Leslie McQueen is holed up.”
I stood there with my hands behind my back, trying my best to look friendly and nonthreatening. But the smile was frozen on my face. And one of the muscles in my cheek started to twitch.
“We won’t be a minute,” Annie continued. “But I honestly think we might be able to help.”
“Suit yourself,” Dennis said. With that he turned and stalked into the living room.
Annie followed him, and I closed the door behind us. So far, so good.
“So how’s Grace?” Annie asked.
“Pregnant and irritable,” he said, tossing the phone into a soft green basket atop an old wooden steamer trunk that served as a side table. “She’ll be home in half an hour, and if I don’t have this place straightened up by then, I’m going to be in the doghouse.”
I looked around the room. Other than a newspaper spread over the dining room table next to a laptop, a soda can, and some manila files, the place looked neat as a pin to me.
But maybe living in a mold-infested firetrap had lowered my standards.
Dennis sank into a large chocolate-brown easy chair and motioned us to a tan velveteen sofa.
“Look, before you start,” he said, putting both hands out in front of him like he was stopping an invisible train, “I don’t know where the heck Leslie is. I don’t know when she’s coming back. And I didn’t even know she was gone, until my phone started blowing up.”
“Well, of course not,” Annie said, flashing the million-dollar smile that had sold everything from toothpaste to designer labels. “No one knows where she is. Or why she took off—especially in the middle of the election. But Alex and I were chatting, and we thought of something that might calm things down a bit. We figured you might be having a bit of a hard time, so we dropped by to share.”
I nodded, smiling. But by this time, the twitch was turning into a spasm. He was going to think I had Tourette’s.
“Leslie, for whatever reason, is temporarily indisposed,” my sister continued breezily. “We were just wondering if there was something in the board’s bylaws that would allow for services and maintenance to continue while she’s absent?”
“No idea,” Dennis said dismissively. “Look, what nobody seems to understand about the board? It is Leslie. She runs this place. Hell, I don’t even know where any of the paperwork is. Leslie negotiates contracts, pays the vendors, hires and fires, handles fines—she does it all. Geoff and I pretty much just rubber-stamp everything. And up until now, she was doing a pretty damned good job.”
“What about the management company?” I asked softly.
He looked confused. “Management company? Oh, we fired them almost four months ago.”
As a reporter, I interviewed people for a living, but right now I was having trouble maintaining a poker face. My big sis? No such problem.
“Any idea why?” she asked, smiling, as though this situation were the most natural thing in the world.
“Leslie believed they were misappropriating money. Definitely overspending, possibly skimming. Couldn’t prove it. But it gave her an idea. She called it ‘a grand experiment.’ She wanted to try handling their job ourselves for a few months. Just to see what it involved. And if we could save money. She convinced Geoff and me that, at worst, we’d know exactly what we needed when we hired the next management company. Her proposal was that we’d do it for a couple of months on the q.t. As a test. We’d document the results, then we’d reveal everything to the homeowners and show them how much money we’d saved. We’d be heroes.”
Annie and I nodded encouragingly.
“Of course, what that really meant was that Leslie was doing all the work.”
Annie shook her head sympathetically. “That must have been quite a load for her.”
My sister had missed her calling. She should have been an actress. She was a natural.
“You’d think so,” Dennis said, sagging. “But she had it all perfectly organized. And when we looked at the books every month, we were saving tons. I mean, basically, she was managing this place for free.”
He shook his head. “And when it comes to pricing labor, you can’t beat free.”
“The parking spot was just the beginning,” Dennis said, grimacing. “Then it was a break from her association dues. Then it was picking up her resident services tab.”
“I was seriously beginning to wonder if it might be time to turn things over to a professional again,” he said, putting one hand to his forehead, shielding his face. “But Geoff was against it. Basically, if Leslie was against it, Geoff was against it. Two against one. Always two against one. Now I’m hearing rumors that bills haven’t been paid. My phone won’t stop ringing. The elevators are out. The pool’s green. And Grace’s in the middle of a tricky pregnancy and can’t handle any extra stress. Or stairs. I don’t want her finding out about this. And I don’t know how much more of it I can take. At this point, if I could just move us out of here and rent this place, I would.”
I almost felt sorry for him. Not only was Leslie’s “grand experiment” unlikely to make them heroes, I was pretty sure it was five kinds of illegal. But telling him he might be looking at prison time wasn’t likely to keep him talking.
“Maybe call the old management company and see if they’ll step into the breach?” I suggested.
Dennis shook his head. “Trust me, Leslie burned that bridge. She may not have been able to prove any wrongdoing, but she threatened to sue them and explore criminal charges if they didn’t let us out of our contract.”
“And they agreed?” I asked.
“Squeaky wheel,” Dennis said, leaning forward on his elbows and staring down at the spotless hardwood floors. “It’s easier just to give Leslie what she wants. Otherwise, she will make your life a living hell.”
“Who called for the special election?” I asked gently.
“Leslie raised the issue,” he said, looking from Annie to me. “A couple of residents had approached her and wanted to run for board president—thought they could do a better job. And they didn’t want to wait until December. Leslie didn’t seem to care. Her attitude was, ‘Let ’em try.’ So she collected the entry forms, and suddenly it looked like we had a five-way race. Hell, I was hoping one of them would win. Then we could hire another professional management company and get off this roller-coaster. The special election was one request I was happy to rubber-stamp.”
Suddenly, he looked at his watch and jumped to his feet. “I gotta get moving. Grace is going to be here any minute.”
“Of course, we understand,” my sister said, waving her hand. She pulled a card out of her purse, scribbled something on the back with a gold pen, and handed it to Dennis.
“This is my personal cell number,” she said. “Grace already has it, but keep this where you both can grab it. When you need anything—help with the stairs, a quick casserole, a ride to the doctor—you just call. Anytime, day or night.”
She patted him on the shoulder. “We’re all going to get through this. Don’t you worry.”
Dennis’s face relaxed into a grateful smile. He looked like a totally different person.
“Thanks,” he said. “You two really are good neighbors. I actually feel better for the first time all day.”
CHAPTER 24
Once we’d collected Lucy, I’d reasoned that—since we were only one flight off the ground—we might as well take the pup down for her evening constitutional. Forty minutes after that, we were sitting on the patio of a local restaurant with margaritas in our hands.
Paco’s looked like a rambling, wood-sided house that had probably been built right after World War II. Now painted bright turquoise with pink and orange trim, it served—according to my sister—the best Tex-Mex in Miami.
Along with some first-rate margaritas.
We sat on the big patio, illuminated by lanterns and string lights, with half a basket of fresh tortilla chips between us, alongside bowls of red and green salsa.
I put another chip on the ground in front of Lucy. She stepped on it with a delicate paw and wolfed down all the pieces.
“I hate to tell you this, but I think your friend Dennis could be looking at prison time,” I said.
“Not if he has a good lawyer,” my sister countered.
“Know someone who could recommend one?” I teased.
Our older brother, Peter, specialized in tax law, so he didn’t do criminal cases. But he knew plenty of attorneys who did.
“I knew Grace was pregnant,” Annie said. “And it was a long time in coming—they really had some trouble. I was so happy to hear she was expecting, it never dawned on me that it was a high-risk pregnancy.”
“That doesn’t excuse what Dennis did,” I said. “Those three didn’t just cross a line, they pole-vaulted over it, swam the moat, and kept on running.”
“I know,” Annie said. “It’s pretty bad. And when Dennis said he didn’t even know where the board paperwork was? That means he probably doesn’t know where the money is either. Some of the residents have put their life savings into those condos.”
I’m guessing Stan, Ethel, Ernie, and Marilyn were among them.
“Maybe if we find Leslie, we can find the money,” I said. “And I’d still like to talk to your friend Geoffrey the Eyeball.”
“One thing doesn’t make sense,” Annie said.
“Just one? Seriously, I feel like every time we get even close to an answer, someone just raises another question.”
“The Dennis I know through Gracie? Always a straight shooter. He’s one of those people who sees things in black and white. Right and wrong. To the point where it drove her a little crazy sometimes.”
I nodded and snagged two chips. I put one in front of Lucy.
“The idea of his becoming a rubber stamp for Leslie?” my sister continued. “That just doesn’t seem like him.”
“Yeah, I had a thought about that,” I said.
Surprised, Annie looked up at me. “What?”
“The whole time we were talking to Dennis, his words were angry. Angry at Leslie. Angry at Geoffrey. Even angry at the other residents. But his body language was conveying something else—shame.”
“Well, yeah, he pretty much sold out everyone who lives at Oceanside,” Annie said.
“Yes, but why?” I asked. “When he was telling us what the board did, he never made eye contact. He was looking at the floor. Or hiding his face with his hand. Trust me, I’ve interviewed enough guilty people to know that reaction was pure shame.”
“You’re right,” Annie said, cocking her head to one side.
I placed another chip in front of Lucy, who made it disappear in record time. Another magic trick she’d mastered.
“You think he knew what they were doing was wrong and did it anyway?” Annie asked. “Honestly, that’s not the Dennis I know.”
“I believe you. I mean, the guy was very upfront about what he did. It practically came pouring out of him. As if he couldn’t wait to tell someone—to unburden himself. He’s an honest man. He doesn’t like keeping secrets. And you were great, by the way.”
My sister smiled.
“But the reason behind it?” I continued. “The reason he caved to Leslie in the first place? I don’t think that was strictly voluntary. I think Leslie knew something about him. Something that made him ashamed. And I think she used it as a bargaining chip to get his cooperation.”
“You think Leslie was blackmailing Dennis?” Annie asked doubtfully.
“Can I prove it? No. Do I believe it, based on what I saw tonight? Yes. Annie, that man was literally sagging under the weight of guilt and shame. So much so that he wanted to take his pregnant wife and flee their home.”
“Yes, but as you pointed out, he could be facing charges,” my sister countered.
“You said he was conscientious. And what I witnessed tonight confirms that. But if what he’s saying is true, he and Geoff gave Leslie complete control of Oceanside and its money. And they fired the only people who were policing her. Without asking questions. Without taking it to
the residents for a vote. Without making a peep. That’s a pretty big ask. Especially of a straight shooter like Dennis. I think he did it because he felt he didn’t have any other choice.”
“I don’t know,” Annie said. “I think that’s a stretch. Body language or no. But you know what I find weird?”
“Cronuts?”
“Bite your tongue,” she said, dipping a chip into the fiery green salsa. “Cronuts are delicious. What’s weird is, other than the three people on the board, no one knew about Leslie’s little experiment for four months. Four whole months! Oceanside is a tight community. And you know how gossip spreads around that place.”
“From what Dennis said tonight, I don’t think he told Grace, either.”
“He can’t have,” Annie agreed. “She wouldn’t have stood for it. I think he’s terrified she’ll find out now. Could that be the shame you noticed? Having to admit to Gracie that he made a whopper of a mistake?”
“That still doesn’t explain why he did it in the first place. Why does a smart, honest man go along with something so obviously sketchy? Dennis doesn’t seem like the type to play with other people’s money.”
“Leslie does, though,” my sister concluded.
“Yup, Leslie definitely does,” I agreed, grabbing another chip for myself and coating it thoroughly with red salsa.
“Something else doesn’t make sense,” Annie started.
“So far, nothing about this whole situation makes sense to me,” I admitted, popping the chip in my mouth.
“Leslie wanted to be board president. That was clear from her attitude. And her campaign.”
“No argument there.”
“So why even hold a special election?” Annie asked, as I put a large crispy chip in front of a very eager Lucy. “I mean, without it, the post was hers until next January. At least. And she could have run again then. Could she have been pressured into it?”
“You mean, did someone find out about her little ‘experiment’ and threaten to go public?” I theorized. “Possible. But if that was the case, you’d think the whole scheme would be common knowledge by now. I mean, if I were a candidate and I knew—I’d make sure everyone in the whole building knew. Instead, nothing.”