Sinner or Saint

by Brenda Donelan

  Marlee ordered the bacon deluxe special with all the pancakes you can eat, while Bridget opted for a bowl of oatmeal with a side of seasonal fruit, which meant canned peaches since nothing was in season in South Dakota in March. The Depot was a downtown staple, only open for breakfast and lunch. They were known for hearty meals at a reasonable price, and Marlee was a fan of both of those things.

  Seated at a table toward the back, they had full view of the small, sparsely decorated café and could see out the front picture window. Shortly after they finished eating, Hector walked by with his coat collar turned upward. A black stocking cap was pulled down around his ears and dark-tinted sunglasses covered over a third of his face. He looked ridiculous as he glanced through the café window, looking for Bridget and Marlee.

  Not able to resist rubbing his nose in it, Marlee jumped from the table and ran outside. “Hector! Want to join us for breakfast?”

  Hector whirled around, his mouth wide open. “Ah, nope. I’m running down some leads right now.” He hurried off, only glancing over his shoulder once to make sure Marlee went back inside The Depot.

  “What did he say?” Bridget asked with a giggle.

  “Not much. Hector Ramos, The Master of Disguise, didn’t have time to talk.” Marlee threw enough cash on their table to pay for both of their breakfasts and a tip. “Let’s get out of here before he comes back.”

  Bridget drove the car around Elmwood for twenty minutes, allowing Marlee to keep an eye out for Hector. “I’m going to question Conrad while you watch for Ralph,” she said to Bridget as they neared the Thayer mansion.

  “I’m not too worried about him.” Bridget motioned to the Taser in her pocket. “If either of them gives us any trouble, I’ll zap ‘em!”

  Conrad flung open the door just as Marlee was preparing to knock. Today’s outfit outdid everything they’d seen up to this point. He was wearing a white, rhinestone-covered jumpsuit, white leather ankle boots with a side zipper, and a black wig in the shape of a pompadour. “Ralph told me everything!” Conrad accused. “Right before he quit. Now I don’t have any security thanks to you two bitches!”

  “Settle down, Elvis,” Bridget snarked.

  “Why do you need security, Conrad?” Marlee asked, saccharin sweetness dripping from her voice. “Elmwood is such a nice, provincial town. I can’t imagine someone like you would be too worried about your safety here.”

  Bridget pulled the Taser out of her pocket and waved it in Conrad’s face. “Let us in. We have some things to talk about!”

  Conrad backed up to allow the cousins entrance and then led them to the familiar sitting room. For the first time Marlee could recall, there was no offer of drinks. He didn’t reek of alcohol as usual, but his glassy eyes and slurred speech suggested he was under the influence of something. They followed Conrad as he teetered along, his heeled boots slapping on the ceramic tile floor. A loose rhinestone fell from his jumpsuit onto the floor.

  Before Marlee or Bridget could speak, Conrad shouted, “How dare you break into my house, assault my security guard, and steal information from my computer! I’m going to have you both arrested and locked up!”

  “I doubt that,” Marlee said with a smile. “What we found out about you is enough to get you thrown away for the rest of your life.” She wasn’t sure if it was true, but a good bluff never hurt anyone.

  “You didn’t find out anything about me, other than I’m working on a novel. It’s a story about an amateur detective who butts into everyone’s business,” Conrad snorted. “Sound familiar?”

  “Nice try! We know you were developing a game called Mystery Box that involved actors inserting themselves into clients’ lives and leaving clues,” Marlee said.

  “It’s all part of my novel,” Conrad insisted. “Clever idea, huh? And I’m using you as inspiration for my amateur detective. Except my protagonist will be beautiful and extremely good at sussing out information about cases, so she’s not exactly like you. In fact, she’s the opposite of you in many ways.”

  “You won’t turn us into the police because you’d bring too much scrutiny onto yourself and the stupid game you’re developing,” Bridget said, still holding the Taser in plain view lest Conrad tried to get away.

  “And you can’t call the police because you’re in possession of information illegally obtained from my house,” Conrad smirked. “I can see the headlines now: ‘LOCAL PROFESSORS ARRESTED FOR BURGLARY!’”

  Marlee and Bridget made eye contact. Technically, Conrad was right. They were all in a predicament. If the McCabe cousins reported Conrad for any number of crimes he committed while developing and testing Mystery Box, then he could turn them in for breaking and entering as well as theft. And that didn’t even include the assault on Ralph.

  It was time to switch tactics. “Who killed Kelsey?” Marlee demanded.

  Conrad’s arms flew to his chest as more loose rhinestones tumbled to the floor. “Kelsey’s dead?” He moved toward a chair and lowered himself into it. Gone was his usual bravado and pompousness. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course, we’re sure! She was run off the road last night. And she had enough drugs in her system to tranquilize a horse.” Marlee waited for Conrad’s response, never taking her eyes off him. “The police know for a fact she was drugged and forced off the road.” She knew she was overstepping, since no determination was made at this point about how the drugs got into Kelsey’s system. Conrad was so fond of games and manipulating peoples’ lives that Marlee didn’t have the slightest bit of hesitation about lying to him.

  “That poor child,” Conrad said with a sigh, the humblest Marlee had ever seen him. Then in the next breath, he said, “But we knew she had a drug problem. Sadly, this type of thing happens all the time with drug addicts.”

  Marlee’s face contorted with anger. “You don’t feel any responsibility for Kelsey’s death? It’s only because of you that she came to Elmwood. We know you hired her to act as the Raffertys’ daughter and then follow me home.”

  “This was all just a game to you, but somebody died!” Bridget yelled. “And it’s all your fault!”

  “Now wait a minute! Kelsey had a drug problem, and that has absolutely nothing to do with me,” Conrad said, now on his feet.

  “Who wanted Kelsey dead? The only person who might want her to disappear is you. Either you drugged her up and ran her off the road, or you had Ian and Patrick do it before they left town,” Marlee said, pointing her finger in his face. “All trails lead back to you, Conrad.”

  The eccentric collector looked all around the room, searching for answers and a way out. Still clad in his Elvis costume, Conrad took off running toward the back door. His high-heeled boot lost traction on the ceramic tile as he stepped on a fallen rhinestone from his Elvis costume. Conrad fell to the floor, striking his head against an ornate antique table reminiscent of one found in Versailles.

  Marlee and Bridget looked at Conrad in horror when he didn’t move. Marlee rolled him over and felt for a pulse.

  “Oh my god! I think he’s dead!” Marlee shouted as she looked at her cousin in horror.

  A commotion in the hallway pulled their attention away from Conrad’s lifeless body. “Police! Put your hands in the air!”

  Does the bad guy get caught? Well, yes. And no. This scheme had dimensions I never knew of… until it was too late.

  Chapter 34

  Marlee and Bridget rose to their feet at an agonizingly slow pace, hands raised high above their heads as instructed. “He just fell. We didn’t do anything!” Marlee insisted as a uniformed officer placed her in handcuffs and led her out of the room. She glanced back and saw two other officers crouched over Conrad’s body, furiously working to remove him from his Elvis costume.

  The McCabe cousins were separated for questioning by police. Marlee taught an introductory policing class at MSU and was familiar with the drill. The uniformed officer would get a statement from her, and detectives would follow up with hard-hitting questions and accusati
ons. “I’m not answering any more questions,” Marlee said after providing her name and address. “I’d like an attorney.”

  Those were the magic words. The officer stopped his questions and led her to the back seat of a squad car where she sat, watching medical personnel and more police vehicles arrive on the scene. I hope Bridget has enough sense to ask for a lawyer, Marlee thought. If Bridget spilled her guts, they’d be in deep shit. Conrad’s death couldn’t be pinned on them, but they could face serious consequences for breaking and entering earlier that morning.

  She hung her head, knowing her pursuit of the truth may have ended the careers and freedom of both herself and Bridget. A tear rolled down her cheek as she envisioned herself in an orange jumpsuit at the Women’s Prison, a prison that she took her students to every year on a tour. Now she’d be an inmate, and her own students would see her behind bars. The thought of it was too much to bear. Marlee shook her head to clear her thoughts and was dumbfounded at the sight before her. Conrad shuffled by, handcuffed, the top portion of the white jumpsuit unzipped and hanging from his waist. His torso was covered by a dark blazer several sizes too big, no doubt left behind by Ralph. Two officers took him to another police car and sped off after securing him in the back.

  What the hell is going on, she thought as she looked around. The car door opened, and Marlee was tugged outside. Hector stood with a grin on his face as he motioned for an officer to uncuff her. Bridget stood by his side, looking worse for wear.

  “Conrad’s alive?” Marlee asked even though she saw him walk by only moments ago.

  “Very much alive. And in a shit-ton of trouble,” Hector said. “We had another anonymous phone tip claiming Conrad’s Cadillac had damage to the passenger side. That was enough to stop Ian and Patrick from flying home. They were apprehended at the Minneapolis airport. Once the interviewing officers started talking about the death penalty, they had a lot to say about Conrad Thayer. He’ll be going away for a long time.”

  “How did you know where to find us?” Marlee asked.

  “It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Where else would you two go?”

  “But busting in with guns drawn?” Bridget asked.

  “We had a no-knock warrant for Conrad based on the information Patrick and Ian provided. Thank God we got to them before they flew back to Ireland. I figured you were both here too, but wasn’t able to get here before the whole police brigade stormed in. My main fear was that you and Bridget would be doing something illegal, and I wouldn’t be able to save you.” Hector stood proudly by Marlee’s side, still grinning.

  “We didn’t need saving, Hector,” Marlee grumbled. She hated his macho attitude and assumption that she and Bridget were unable to take care of themselves. “We had it under control.”

  “Uh-huh,” Hector smirked. “And what were you doing with this?” He held a Taser in his hand, waving it back and forth.

  “It belongs to Ralph, the security guard who quit,” Marlee said.

  “And neither of you used it?”

  “No, why?” Marlee answered quickly before Bridget could blurt out the truth.

  “So, we won’t find either of your fingerprints on it?” Hector asked.

  “Of course, you will. Bridget picked it up when Ralph dropped it,” Marlee said before realizing her mistake. She just admitted to them being in Conrad’s house previously. If Ralph reported the incident, then she and Bridget were now on the hook for being in Conrad’s home and searching through his computer documents.

  The detective nodded, not following up on Marlee’s self-incriminating statements. “Let’s get you two home.”

  Hector drove the cousins back to Marlee’s house and had an officer follow them with Marlee’s loaner car since she was too shaky to drive. The three went inside the cozy, Spanish-style home and took up their usual positions at the dining room table. He took their statements, asking very general questions and allowing them to backtrack to get their stories to match. Bridget, realizing she wasn’t going to make her noon class, called campus and cancelled it. The cousins moved to the living room once Hector left, curling up with fleece blankets and cups of soothing chamomile tea, talking until they were exhausted.

  Three hours later, Hector rang Marlee’s doorbell, waking her from a sound sleep on the couch. She stumbled toward the door and let him in. Hector, carrying a pizza in one arm and a twelve pack of Bud Light in the other, strode in and placed the food and drink on the table. “Thought you might be ready for some refreshments.”

  Bridget was gone, having left a note taped to the television, which was now their new mode of communication. Marlee grabbed paper plates and eagerly dug into the pizza. Hector handed her a Bud Light bottle. “I hope you noticed that I brought your favorite kind of beer and not my usual Leinenkugel. I hate this swamp water,” he said with a grimace after taking a swig of Bud Light.

  “So, what did Conrad have to say?” Marlee reached for a second piece of pizza, still chewing the last bite of her first slice.

  “Nothing. He asked for a lawyer. But Ian and Patrick spilled their guts. Of course, who knows how truthful they’re being. I’m sure each is minimizing his role in the whole thing.”

  “Did they tell you why Kelsey was hired?”

  “Yeah, but I suspect you already know,” Hector said with a wink. “Ian told us about an interactive game Conrad was developing that used you as a practice dummy. He said Conrad’s had it in for you since you helped get his sister, Rita, sent to prison. Since then, he’s been waiting to settle the score.”

  Marlee pointed to her stuffed mouth and shook her head, indicating she couldn’t speak.

  “Our search warrant included Conrad’s computers, and our techs found some interesting documents about this Mystery Box game he was developing. They also found that files had been copied from the computer in Conrad’s office just a few hours before that. Know anything about it?” Hector asked.

  Marlee shrugged, stuffing more pizza into her mouth.

  “I just made that up. We had no idea you copied files. But now it’s our little secret,” he said, downing more beer.

  “Are you wearing a wire?” Marlee asked, afraid Hector would try to trap her even though deep down she knew better.

  “If I wanted you in jail, you’d be in jail.” Hector rolled his eyes. His phone rang, and he stepped out of the room to take the call, carrying a bottle of beer with him. Moments later, he reported that preliminary tests suggested Conrad’s Cadillac was the vehicle that ran Kelsey off the road. “The paint matches, and the damage to Thayer’s car is consistent with the dents on your SUV.”

  “So, Conrad ran Kelsey off the road. Why?” Marlee asked.

  “According to Patrick Rafferty, Kelsey threatened to tell us everything about the Mystery Box game and her acting job. Since the game was still in development, it hadn’t been trademarked yet. Conrad was afraid someone else would steal his idea, and he knew he’d be in deep shit for lying to the police all this time about Kelsey.”

  “Did he drug Kelsey?” Marlee asked.

  “I suspect so, but we don’t have any proof yet. Running her off the road is enough to charge him with, even if we don’t know if he drugged her. As we uncover more evidence, I’m sure more charges will be added.” Hector said.

  “What about Della? I’ve never been able to figure out her role in this scheme. Is she a victim or an accomplice?” Marlee asked.

  “A little bit of both. She finally cracked and admitted she worked for Conrad to test the Mystery Box game with you as a stooge. He was paying her very well. Enough so that she could retire a few years earlier than planned. Della said once she discovered the scope of the case, she tried to get out, but Conrad wouldn’t let her. He’d threatened to expose her and ruin her career and get her thrown in jail. She saw how he manipulated your life and didn’t want the same thing to happen to her.”

  Marlee drank the last of her beer and reached for another. “But she tried to help when she mentioned Conrad’s sister
’s name as a way of hinting Ian and his group were hiding at Conrad’s lake cabin. And she got the neighbor kid to call in a tip.”

  “Yeah, in her own way, she was trying to get out of this mess. But Della also lied for Conrad and helped him carry out his plan. She’ll probably be on the hook for the conspiracy part of this. And for lying to police.” Hector surmised.

  “Were Della and Conrad really in a serious relationship?” Marlee asked. “At times it seemed like they had strong feelings for each other.”

  “I don’t know how strongly she feels about Conrad, but he’s definitely in love with her,” Hector said. “He threatened and manipulated Della, but he loved her too. It’s a weird relationship.”

  Marlee nodded, thinking how infuriating she found Della most of the time, yet still wanting good things for her colleague. “It’s too bad it all had to end this way. Della’s career is probably ruined, and she was eligible for retirement in a few years.”

  “I wouldn’t feel too sorry for her. She’s the one who helped Conrad hack into your laptop,” Hector pushed the nearly empty pizza box away from him.

  “How? Della isn’t a computer whiz,” Marlee said, thinking back to the time her colleague requested her help in developing a PowerPoint presentation for a conference.

  “Your laptop was given to you on loan from MSU to use on your sabbatical. You took it with you to India and then used it when you made your travel plans to Ireland. Before it was turned over to you, it was in possession of someone else,” Hector said. “Della had briefly borrowed that specific laptop from your campus technology office, knowing since it was brand new it would be soon be assigned to a professor going on sabbatical. She checked it out for a weekend, and Conrad installed spyware on it. He could see everything you did online for months, including your search for a reasonably priced bed and breakfast in the downtown area of Dublin.”