Sinner or Saint

by Brenda Donelan

  After Hector left, she called Bridget and invited her over. Marlee neglected to tell her cousin that she’d been knocked unconscious, knowing she’d worry and make a fuss.

  As the McCabe cousins chowed down on tomato soup and grilled cheese, Marlee recounted their interaction with Ian and Patrick as well as Kelsey’s abduction. “So, did they come here for Kelsey or the emeralds? Or some other reason?” Bridget tore off a piece of her toasted sandwich and dunked it in the soup mug decorated with various breeds of cats.

  “At first, they just talked about getting Kelsey and taking her home, but then they began focusing on the emeralds. They stormed into Conrad’s house last night, looking for Kelsey and the jewels. He was miffed and thought they stole a horse figurine from him, but it was Kelsey who took it. We went over there with the intention of her putting it back in the den before Conrad noticed it was missing.”

  “Then you went to Della’s? Did Ian let you in?” Bridget asked, attempting to keep the story straight as Marlee relayed it.

  “No, Kelsey and I heard the dogs barking. It sounded like they were locked in the basement, and Della’s vehicle was gone. She never locks up her dogs, so we thought maybe they accidentally pushed the door shut after she left. So, we let ourselves in.” Marlee blushed, realizing just how lame her justification sounded. No reasonable person would accept barking dogs as a legitimate reason for breaking into a house.

  Raising her eyebrows but not opting to dwell on the particulars of Marlee’s entrance into the house, Bridget changed tacks. “And that’s when you found Della tied up?”

  “Right. I still can’t figure out Della’s involvement in this. She isn’t smooth enough to be an international jewel smuggler. And then there’s the lame-ass story Conrad told us about the emeralds being shards of a famous author’s broken glass. Conrad Thayer always seems to be on the fringe of illegal activity, and now he’s pulled Della into it,” Marlee said, surprised at her feelings of sympathy for her colleague.

  “Della’s not dumb. And if she needed money for something, why wouldn’t Conrad just give it to her?” Bridget asked.

  “He has tons of money, and he worships Della, so I know he’d help her out financially. She’s a proud woman, but not to the degree that she’d turn to crime instead of accepting a loan.”

  “Unless Conrad doesn’t have as much money as everyone thinks he does. He was wealthy a couple years ago but could’ve lost it in the stock market. Or maybe he bought too many pricey collectibles,” Bridget suggested.

  Marlee shrugged. “Both scenarios are possible. I’ll suggest to Hector that they look into Conrad’s financials. They should be able to find out some basic information without getting a warrant. I really want to talk to Della about the emeralds, but she’s never straightforward with me about anything. Maybe Hector can haul her in for questioning. He might be able to get some answers.”

  “Speaking of Hector, you two seem to be working well together,” Bridget said with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Just for this case. Once Ian and Patrick are apprehended, Kelsey is found, and the emeralds are delivered to their rightful owner, I won’t have any need to deal with him. This is just short term.”

  Throwing her head back, Bridget laughed, her shoulders shaking. Marlee frowned at her cousin. Sometimes Bridget’s know-it-all attitude really got old. The two didn’t talk much the rest of the afternoon, opting to loaf around and watch an NCIS marathon. When Marlee awoke hours later, she was covered with her kitty blanket, and Pippa was curled up at her feet. A piece of paper was taped to the television. It read: Need to do some grading. I’ll be back later.

  She no longer had a headache, just tenderness where Ian struck her with the gun. Marlee knew she should throw in some laundry, wash up the dirty dishes, and tidy up the house. She also knew she was going to ignore all those things and continue watching television and napping. The doorbell rang just as she rolled to her side and was about to drift off.

  Hector stood at the front door, waiting to be invited in since Marlee set down the strict boundaries. “How are you feeling? Did Bridget take you to the doctor?”

  “I’m fine,” she said as she let Hector inside. “I don’t need to see the doctor. Bridget just left a few minutes ago but will be back in a little bit.”

  “Bullshit,” Hector said. “I bet you never even called her.”

  Marlee grabbed the note and thrust it in his face. He grimaced after reading it, which was as close to an apology as Marlee was going to get.

  “Did they catch Ian and Patrick yet?”

  “Not yet. We’ve got people checking at convenience stores and fast food places to see if anyone recognized them. So far nobody’s seen them.”

  “What did Della tell the officers about her involvement with the emeralds Kelsey brought from Ireland?” Marlee asked.

  “Not much. Said she doesn’t know anything about emeralds or green glass. Della claimed her head was really hurting, and they had to end the questioning,” Hector reported.

  “That’s much different than the story Conrad told us. If we question Conrad and Della together, we can poke holes in their stories. Let’s go over there now,” Marlee said.

  “If you’re feeling up to it,” Hector said. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to swing by. You could just be stopping in as a concerned coworker to see how Della is doing, and I’m just tagging along in a non-official way.”

  Hector drove over to Della’s house, parking behind a vintage white Cadillac that Marlee recognized as Conrad’s. Della let them inside, and they were assaulted by her two dogs jumping, pawing, and barking at them. “Down, boys!” Della bellowed and they quieted down and sat on the wooden floor.

  “Did you go to the ER?” Marlee asked, looking at a butterfly bandage on Della’s cheek.

  “Conrad’s been playing doctor,” Della said. After witnessing Marlee’s horrified expression, she added, “Not like that! Well, at least not yet.”

  The sound of pans clanging came from the kitchen, and Conrad walked out holding a glass measuring cup. He was still wearing his Michael Jackson outfit, but had tied a flowered apron over the red leather jacket. “We meet again, Dr. McCabe. Now you’re tracking me down at other locations. If you show up at my proctologist’s office, I’m really going to start wondering about you.”

  Everyone laughed, but not because Conrad’s comment was funny. Tension hung over the room, as thick as Della’s cigarette smoke. Marlee and Hector were there to ask some hard questions, and Della and Conrad would try to outwit them. Both sides knew each other’s objective and would do their level best to outsmart the others.

  As was Conrad’s usual ritual, extra strong cocktails were served, and the foursome sat in Della’s living room. Marlee wasn’t one to dance around the elephant in the room. She hated small talk and didn’t like pretending there wasn’t an issue when clearly there was one.

  “What were you going to do with the emeralds, Della? And don’t bullshit me with a story about broken glass from James Joyce’s drinking glass as he wrote Dubliners. I’ve already heard it and don’t believe it,” Marlee said. She’d positioned herself in the living room so that she could face Della and Conrad head on. Hector sat next to her and had the same seating advantage.

  “Since you’re drinking, I assume you’re not on duty,” Della drawled, looking at Hector as he held a gin and tonic.

  “That’s right. But I am here for answers. Tell us what’s going on, so we can help you.” Hector launched into a spiel seen in nearly every cop show in which the law enforcement officer tries to get the suspect to confess in order to avoid additional trouble. “If you don’t come clean, then I really can’t help you when you’re arrested.”

  Even though Hector’s speech was cliché, it still had a resounding impact. Della’s eyes were wide, and Conrad was swigging his scotch like it was lemonade. Marlee would’ve copped to an accusation whether or not she’d committed it if Hector hit her with this talk. She’d need to keep that in mind for any future
conversations or arguments with him.

  “There’s really not much else to tell,” Conrad said, taking the lead in the story telling for their side. “Kelsey brought the pipe here with the broken glass hidden inside. Della is looking to retire soon and wanted a little nest egg since professors don’t make much.”

  “Don’t give me that, Conrad,” Marlee spat. “I heard Ian say they were emeralds, and I saw them with my own two eyes before he knocked me out. No one gets into jewel smuggling to supplement their retirement. Besides, Della has a few years before retirement.”

  “Not if she has this nest egg. She can retire any time she wants,” Conrad corrected. “And she’ll be able to live well with the money from the broken glass. Ian isn’t the most sophisticated person and likely thought the glass shards really were emeralds.”

  “Della, how did you get the money to buy the glass in the first place?” Hector interrupted, playing along with the broken glass story.

  “Conrad gave me a loan. I bought the glass for much less than I planned to sell it.” Della said, shifting in her chair and giving Conrad a run for his money in the alcohol chugging department.

  “Why didn’t you just loan her money or give it to her? You have more money than you’ll ever spend in five lifetimes,” Marlee said looking at Conrad.

  “I’m surprised at your traditional views, Dr. McCabe. My Lamb Chop would no more take money from me than you’d take money from Detective Ramos. If he had any, that is.” The smirk on Conrad’s face was begging to be wiped off, and Hector looked like he’d like to be the one to do it.

  Marlee ignored Conrad’s dig. It was a constant with him. He had money and liked to make sure everyone knew he was the richest person in the room. But being rich doesn’t necessarily make a person smart, or vice versa.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Marlee began, pointing at Conrad. “You loaned Della money to buy glass supposedly linked to James Joyce, which for all we know is stolen. It was smuggled here, and Della planned a sale. Seems like an awful lot of effort and risk when you could’ve just given Della a loan. She will have a full retirement pension in a few years, so at worst, she could’ve just plugged away for a few more years. The risk you two endured is much larger than the reward you were hoping to reap.”

  “You forget that we’re both adventurous people. We like the adrenaline rush that comes with a challenge,” Conrad said, looking at Della and reaching to hold her hand.

  “If that’s true, then who were you going to sell the glass to, Della?” Hector asked. When Conrad prepared to speak, Hector raised his hand. “I’d like to hear from Della on this.”

  Della, uncharacteristically quiet up to this point, narrowed her eyes. “Oh, you’d like to find out, wouldn’t you? Nice try!”

  Marlee laughed out loud and Hector rolled his eyes at Della’s accusation. “Seriously, Della? We came here to help you get out of trouble.”

  Conrad interrupted, as usual, giving Marlee and Hector the evil eye. “The money from the sale of the James Joyce glass would be enough for you two to quit your jobs and move away, maybe set up in a nice little love nest.”

  “Exactly how much is it worth?” Hector asked. He knew it held value to someone who wanted it, but doubted it was at the level Conrad portrayed.

  Della jumped to her feet. “We’re not saying another word. You two need to git!” She motioned toward the door, and her dogs, sensing her distress, jumped to their feet and resumed barking and racing around the living room.

  We drew straws to see who got to hit Della. Unfortunately, I didn’t win.

  Chapter 24

  “One thing is for sure,” Marlee said when they were back at her house. “They’re scared. I saw the look on Della’s face and Conrad’s jitters when you talked about them going to prison unless they told us everything. They’re in deep, I just don’t know who else is involved. You’re not buying their story of Conrad loaning Della the money for the broken glass to sell so she can finance her early retirement, are you?”

  “Hell, no!” Hector set two bottles of beer down on the coffee table. He sat on the couch, and Marlee was on the love seat, purposely putting distance between them. She twisted the cap off her Bud Light while he used a bottle opener on his Leinenkugel. “They were scared, but not enough to come clean. And Della did everything she could to deflect questions.”

  “I agree,” Marlee said. “Their main objective was to get into an argument with us so they could end the questioning and kick us out. Together, they make a pretty good team, but I think if we got Della alone, we might be able to get something out of her.”

  “Really? I was thinking Conrad would be easier to crack than Della,” Hector said, pulling out his cell phone. “I’m ordering pizza. That okay?”

  Marlee nodded. It had been several hours since lunch, and she was starving. Plus, she drank alcohol early on at Conrad’s house, then again at Della’s, and now she was drinking beer. The drinking plus the head injury wouldn’t bode well on an empty stomach. But any reason is a good excuse to eat pizza.

  Without consulting her, Hector ordered what they considered their “usual” when they were together; an extra-large thin crust with Canadian bacon and green peppers. They ate hunched over the coffee table as Pippa paced back and forth.

  “Your cat still hates me.” He glanced at the gray Persian as she glared back at him with her golden eyes.

  “Pippa hates everyone,” Marlee said as she looked lovingly at her cat. “Except me.”

  “Oh my god, Marlee!” Bridget yelled as she opened the front door and barged in, kicking off her snow boots and throwing her coat on the arm of the loveseat as she walked in. “You’ll never guess what…”

  “Hi, Bridget,” Hector said, wiping his mouth with a paper towel. He gave her a welcoming smile as she stood awkwardly before them.

  “Uh, sorry. I didn’t realize you had company. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

  “Don’t be stupid! We were expecting you. Here, have some pizza,” Marlee said, gesturing to the two center squares of pizza remaining. “We ate most of it, but we can order more.” The last thing Marlee wanted was for Bridget to feel her prediction about Marlee and Hector was coming true.

  “This is plenty,” she said, balancing pizza on a paper towel as she sat next to Hector. “So, what are you guys talking about?”

  Marlee frowned at her cousin as Hector leaned in to explain what they learned while visiting Conrad and Della. “Of course, we know they’re lying, but they claim Kelsey brought green glass from Dublin, not emeralds.”

  “What’s the truth? The story keeps evolving as we dig deeper.” Marlee was stuffed but grabbed the last square of pizza.

  “Any news on Kelsey?” Bridget asked. “I’m worried about her, even though she’s with her father.”

  “The same father who encouraged her to get a loan extension from Ian? Yeah, he’s a hell of a guy,” Marlee snapped. “What kind of man does that to his own kid?”

  “How did Patrick act when he and Ian were here and at Della’s place?” Hector asked.

  Marlee tried to remember the interaction at her house, even though it had only been the day before. Nothing specific stood out about Patrick’s demeanor, other than he did very little talking. “Ian’s obviously the boss, and Patrick follows his orders without any argument. Seems to me Patrick just goes along with whatever Ian wants because he’s in debt to Ian.”

  “Maybe that’s the case with Conrad and Della too,” Hector suggested, checking his cell phone when he heard it vibrate.

  Bridget leaned in closer to Hector on the love seat. “How so?” She ran her hand through her long, dark curls, eyes locked in on Hector’s.

  “I need to take this call,” he said, walking outside for privacy.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Marlee hissed at her cousin.

  Bridget smiled and ran her hand through her hair again. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me jea
lous by flirting with Hector, and then I’ll have the realization that I still love him and should give him another chance. Does that sound about right?”

  “You’re fairly close,” Bridget murmured.

  “Enough with the cutesy act. You look ridiculous when you do that,” Marlee growled, ending her admonishment a bit quicker than intended when Hector walked back in.

  “Highway Patrol stopped an off-white Suburban almost to the Minnesota line. Turned out it was a family on their way to The Cities.” The disappointment was noticeable on Hector’s face. His eyes were bloodshot behind his tortoise shell glasses, and his mouth formed into a frown.

  “If they could tell it wasn’t Della’s Suburban based on the license plates, why did they stop it?” Marlee asked.

  “We’re operating under the suspicion that they grabbed plates off another vehicle and are using them to avoid detection. They may swipe plates off other vehicles in any other states they travel to so they blend in.”

  “How will they get caught? They can dodge the police forever if they keep using that trick,” Bridget groaned.

  “Not forever. It would be easier to catch them if they left the original plates on, but we’ll still get them. Sooner or later, they’ll run out of money, or they’ll need to get on a plane. We have state police and the feds looking for them,” Hector said.

  Before Hector went outside to answer his phone, he’d made a comparison between the relationship of Patrick and Ian to that of Conrad and Della. “What did you mean about Conrad and Della?” Bridget asked, not scooting as close to Hector as she was earlier.

  “Today, Conrad kept answering the questions for Della. He seemed to be the one in charge of their shared story,” Hector said.