Read 03_Cornered Coyote Online
Authors: Dianne Harman
“You’re never going to change,” Darya said, rolling her eyes. “However, I'm very grateful to you for taking on this assignment. Now, if I may, let’s get down to business. How can we help Maria out?”
Slade sat down on the grey and burgundy plaid upholstered chair in front of her desk, putting an ankle on his knee. She noticed a hole in his shoe and a half-worn heel.
“Doll, ya’ know better than to ask me how I’m gonna get somethin’ done, but yeah, I got a plan. Called in a coupla of chits and was able to get her isolated for the first three weeks. Sorry to say this, but the rest of it’s gonna cost ya’.”
She sat behind her large mahogany desk and picked up the pen from her jade desk set to write a check. “What else is new? I was pretty sure that keeping someone safe while they’re in jail wouldn’t come cheap. I’m sure everyone has their hand out. So how much is it going to cost me?”
Slade shifted uneasily in his chair. “Well, Doll, let’s start with a friend of mine who’s a doc. Saved him a ton of money when I caught his wife bangin’ the pool boy, so figure he’ll give me a good deal. Gonna need around 100 G’s to change some physical landscape on a broad. Plus, I got lotsa expenses. Had to take a little day trip to Florida. Then gots some bar bills and other things. Sooo, bottom line is yer’ lookin’ at somewhere between 125 and 150 G’s. Jes’ write me one for $50,000 for now. I’ll let you know as the expenses add up. Okay by you?”
Darya wrote the check, handed it to him, and put the pen back in its holder. She stood up and walked over to a pale lavender orchid in the center of the mahogany conference table and pinched off a flower that was a little past perfect. She tossed it into the bin and turned back to him.
“Yes. If Maria can be kept safe while she’s in jail, there’s a very good chance she and I will become legitimate business partners. If that happens, I won’t have to worry about money in the foreseeable future. I consider this a low risk investment. Who knows, I might even expand that tiny mud and dirt orphanage on the outskirts of Kabul and build a larger place in Provence for the little girls. We’ll see. Of course if Maria’s convicted, that changes everything.”
“Whatcha got in mind, Doll? Yer’ makin’ me curious.”
Her deep blue silk skirt made a sliding sound as she sat back down on the padded grey leather swivel chair behind her desk. “Slade, you don’t tell me everything, and this is one of those times I won’t be telling you everything. How sure are you this plan of yours will work?”
“Well, Doll, ain’t no guarantees in life, but ya’ already know that. Few more pieces in the puzzle need to fit, but I think it’s gonna work. Got the outside edges in place, jes’ need to fill in the center. I’ll let you know. Meetin’ with coupla more people today to set the whole thing in motion. Be ready for phase two in about three weeks. Gotta go, Doll,” he said as he kicked his ankle off the shiny blue pant leg where it had been resting and stood up. “Two more meetins’ comin’ up. Talk to you later.” He grabbed his weathered old grey fedora hat from the brass valet stand in the corner and walked out.
Darya sat and stared at the door after he’d left.
I’m beginning to warm up to this
crazy guy. A couple of times he’s let his guard down with me and beneath all the smoke and mirrors he puts out, there’s a very intelligent, caring human being in there. Wonder what it would take to get him to drop the façade?
Okay. Darya. That’s enough. This has got to stop. He’s nothing more than a hired PI and smart employers never get romantically involved with their business associates.
CHAPTER 9
Along with several other well-known banks, Maureen’s office was located on Spring Street in the heart of the Los Angeles financial district. Slade looked at his watch. It was now 2:30 p.m.
Well, jes’ enough time for me to pay Mrs. Shapiro a little visit, kind of talk about ol’ times.
The bank building’s valet opened Slade’s car door and took the key from him. “Don’t park it too far away, son. This ain’t gonna take long,” Slade said, as he took the claim check from the pimply-faced young man in the grey uniform. He entered the bank and walked over to the reception desk.
“I’m here to see Mrs. Shapiro,” he said to the attractive Hispanic receptionist with a wide smile who was showing plenty of cleavage.
Must have a lot of male customers to let her dress like that. Nice view.
“Do you have an appointment, sir?”
“No, jes’ tell her Slade Kelly, a friend of Chico’s, is here to see her.”
The receptionist picked up her phone, dialed a number, and gave Maureen’s administrative assistant the message. She listened for a few moments, hung up, and told Slade to take the private elevator at the far end of the hall to the top floor. He looked across the expanse of highly polished white and pink striated marble and saw the brass elevator doors, thinking that business at the bank must be good.
“Thanks, Doll.” His stomach lurched as he soared to the top of the twenty-eight story building. The doors opened to a view of the Los Angeles skyline partially hidden by a thick brown blanket of smog. As he stepped off the elevator he was welcomed by a long line of big suites with glass doors that separated them from the hallway. He opened the door marked “Reception.”
“Hi, I’m Slade Kelly,” he said to a young woman in a conservative dark blue suit sitting at the reception desk. “I’ve got an appointment with Mrs. Shapiro.”
“Yes, she told me to show you in immediately. Follow me.” She stood up and led him down a long hall. He couldn’t help but notice her shapely ass and the sensuous motion beneath her skirt as she walked in front of him. When she reached the end of the hall, she opened a heavy mahogany door with big, highly polished brass letters that spelled out the words “Maureen Shapiro, Senior Vice-President.”
Must be some dick ‘round here doin’ nuthin’ but polishin’ all this brass. Now there’s a niche job. Wonder what people think when they see that on some guy’s resume?
An imposing looking older woman with her grey hair pulled back in a bun sat at a large cherry wood desk. “I’m Mrs. Shapiro’s administrative assistant. I assume you’re Mr. Kelly,” she said, standing up. “Please come this way.”
She walked to the back of her office and knocked on a door. “Come in,” a woman’s voice answered. Slade entered the office and looked around. Huge windows provided a 180 degree view of Los Angeles. Several couches and chairs in different shades of grey were placed around a cherry wood conference table which could easily seat twenty. A crystal vase sat in the center, filled with pebbles supporting stems bursting with flowering pink and white orchids.
A woman in her late ‘30’s walked toward him and held out her hand. Thick auburn hair in a shoulder-length blunt cut framed her heart-shaped face, brilliant green eyes, and generous lips. She wore a dark grey silk blouse tucked into a grey and cream pinstripe suit skirt. A simple gold necklace with a large diamond drop hung from it. The hand she held out to him was soft with perfectly groomed nails finished in a French silk wrap. “Hello, Slade, it’s been a long time since we used to see each other at the Holy Family Church. Your visit is a surprise. Would you care to fill me in?”
“Doll, why don’t you take a look at this before we start?” He handed her a piece of paper and looked around the room. In the corner he saw a full bar with a cut glass decanter on it as well as fresh coffee and china cups and saucers.
She read the words written on the piece of paper, walked over to her large desk, and pressed a switch under it. “There, the tape recorder’s off. Please tell me what’s going on.”
“Better sit down, Maureen. I’m a voice from your past, a voice you probably don’t want anyone to hear.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She motioned to two burgundy and cream upholstered plaid chairs in front of a coffee table with a beveled glass inlay. “Tell me why you’re here.”
“Sure, Doll. I’m an old friend of Chico’s and I’ve got a favor to ask of you. You do remember Chico, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I haven’t talked to him in two decades. A lot has happened since then. And from what I know, a lot has happened to him, too.” Although she spoke in a calm manner, her tightly clasped hands betrayed her inner nervousness.
“Well, Doll, here’s the deal. Chico never forgot you. My sources say he never married, jes’ talked about the uptown girl he’d met at the Holy Family Church when he was in his teens. Hard for me to think of Chico bein’ in church, but that was a long time ago. Heard you and him had some heart-to-hearts back then. Also heard a rumor that Chico and your daddy became friends later on. Something about your mommy’s death. You probably ‘member that. Anyway, need you to come with me. Got an appointment at 4:30 this afternoon with a plastic surgeon and I need him to take some photos of your face.”
“Are you insane?” she fumed, her voice rising as she stood up. “Pictures of my face? Why? And why would I accompany you anywhere? And to a plastic surgeon’s office? That’s just not going to happen. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I’ve seen you, we’ve talked, and now I want you to leave before I call security.”
“Sit down, Doll. Read this and if you don’t come with me, my associate’s gonna give it to every media outlet around, jes’ in time for the 6:00 news.” She carefully unfolded the paper he slid across the table to her.
Maureen scanned it, started to sit down, then abruptly stood up again as she stared at Slade in amazement. “What makes you think this is true?” she said, her voice cracking.
“Because my uncle tol’ me he did a big favor for yer’ daddy. Remember that pizza joint called Gino’s, not too far from the orphanage where Chico and I grew up? Well, guess what? Even though my uncle lives in Chicago, he owns that fine establishment. It was nothing more than a front for his real business. Your daddy asked my uncle to get rid of yer’ mommy, like permanently. She died when she was shot and killed in broad daylight on a sidewalk in Beverly Hills. The cops said she was the victim of a random strong-arm robbery because they took the big diamond necklace she wore. It made a nice cover-up for a gang hit arranged by my uncle.
“Saved yer’ daddy’s nuts from bein’ cut off and never holdin’ an important political office. Yer’ daddy tol’ my uncle if he ever needed anything to let him know. My uncle tol’ me he was givin’ me the chit. Never needed it ‘til now. Hate to see yer’ daddy be ‘cused of mastermindin’ your mommy’s death, him bein’ such a big mucky-muck politico these days. Voters don’t take that kind of shit too kindly. Unnerstand it’s an election year. That ain’t the kind of publicity he probably wants.” He looked across the table at her and smelled her fear.
“You son-of-a-bitch. How dare you come in here and say those things?”
“Some things got to be said in order to get things done. So, Doll, whaddya think ‘bout goin’ to that appointment with me? Hate for Mr. Shapiro to find out his wife’s daddy hired a hit man to take out her mommy. Also probably wouldn’t look too good for the president of the largest oil company on the west coast to be married to the daughter of the man who took out a contract to have his wife killed so he could get elected to the United States Senate. Stockholders get real nervous ‘bout shit like that. Kind of bet that swanky Swiss bank you work for wouldn’t look too kindly on it either. So, ya’ comin’ with me or not?”
She sat for a moment, twisting the big diamond ring on her finger and then whispered, “I’ll go with you if you promise me that whatever happened twenty years ago stays there and doesn’t ever see the light of day.”
“No problem. You jes’ tell that lady at the desk outside yer’ office you forgot about an appointment and have to leave a little early today. Tell her you’ll see her in the mornin’.”
Maureen walked over to the closet and took her suit jacket from the hangar. She turned back to Slade. “All right Mr. Kelly. Care to tell me what this is about?”
“Nope. Jes’ want you to come with me, sit still for some photos, and then you can leave. It’ll be like we never saw each other.”
CHAPTER 10
Slade handed the pimply faced valet the claim check for his car and turned to Maureen. “We’ll take my car and ride together. The doctor’s office is in Santa Monica. I’ll get a cab to bring ya’ back here so ya’ can pick up your car when we’re finished.”
They rode in silence for several minutes then Maureen spoke, “How can I be sure you’ll never tell anyone about daddy?”
“It’s called trust, Doll. You’re doin’ what I need done, so there’s no reason to tell anyone about your daddy and what happened to your mommy.”
Maureen continued, “I’d known for a long time that my parents weren’t happy with each other. The next thing I knew, my mother had been murdered. It was a horrible time for me. Shortly after that I went to USC. Daddy was elected to the senate and when I went to Columbia University, I saw him more on the East Coast than when I was in Los Angeles.”
“Understan’ when people want to forget things that happened to them when they were young, sometimes they begin to have a convenient memory lapse. They push things they don’t want to remember so far down, it’s like they never happened. But look at ya’ now, seems like ya’ done all right for yourself.”
“Daddy and I are very close, in fact, he’s done so much for so many people, I don’t want to think about him in a negative way. I remember my mother as a beautiful woman who always had a glass of wine or a cocktail in her hand. I guess she had a drinking problem, but I was too young to understand it. I overheard our housekeeper and cook talking about her one day. They said she was loose. I didn’t know what that meant until I was much older. At the time I thought it meant that her arms and legs weren’t attached quite right. You know how literal kids are. Anyway, I’m done with the past. I have a fabulous life, a wonderful husband, and a dream job. I’m not giving up any of it up for something that happened a long time ago.”
“Don’t have to. In another hour, you’ll be free of me and Chico. We’ll let the past stay buried.”