Evelyn David - Sullivan Investigations 02 - Murder Takes the Cake (15 page)

“
Time to cash in on my long term investment. Could use a couple of partners in case of trouble. Interested?”

Rachel read the message once and then read it aloud a second time.
“Investments? What kind of investments? Open the other message, JJ. Maybe it will explain.”

“
String says we need you. Please reconsider your decision to pass. I’ve run into some heavier than expected resistance.”

JJ pulled a small rectangular metal box from her backpack. She plugged it into a USB port on Crager
‘s computer, saying, “I’ll download copies of his documents and email files. It might take some time for us to go through everything and it’ll be easier for me to do it on my own computer.”

“
Scott Merrell only sent the one email message? He didn’t answer the two earlier messages Brian Crager sent him?” Rachel was talking more to herself than to JJ. “He must have contacted Brian another way. Maybe the phone? The police could get the phone records.”

JJ shrugged.
“Doesn’t sound like the police are interested, even though the bodies are piling up.”

“
Bodies? Yeah, you’re right. String, whoever he is, and Crager.” Rachel turned and walked towards the staircase. “I need to tell Mac about this. It seems that either Scott Merrell is the killer or he’s up next.”

Chapter 12

Mac Sullivan checked his cell phone again. No messages. He checked the McDonald
‘s coffee cup. Empty.

He
‘d been sitting for over an hour in Jeff’s ancient Cadillac in the parking lot of the Motel Lafayette on Georgia Avenue. Or as the neon sign suggested, Motel yette.

He
‘d missed the call from Will Banks. Cell phone reception, according to Rachel, was quirky in Warrenton. Just like the people, he decided.

The voice message from Banks was short. Sally had heard from her sister who was holed up at the Motel Lafayette, waiting for her lover, Scott Merrell, to return. He
‘d been gone for almost a week and Selena had wanted Sally to send her some money.

Scott Merrell seemed to stiff everyone he touched. No money for his kids or his mistress. What a guy.

Mac had dropped off Rachel at the funeral home, after listening to several arguments of why she should go on the stakeout with him. “I’ll keep you company.” He didn’t want any company, but managed to keep that fact to himself. Instead, he’d suggested she needed to check in with Jeff and get up to date on the case of the foiled casket heist.

JJ hadn
‘t argued with him at all. She’d wanted nothing more than to get back to the office so she could work on Crager’s computer. The final member of the detective’s staff, Whiskey, was stretched out asleep across the back seat. Apparently all that clean country air was exhausting. She’d dropped right off after inhaling a couple of bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits.

Mac had tried to return Will Banks
‘ call several times, but his call had gone directly to the Boston cop’s voicemail. He’d left one message on the way back from Virginia, and another two since he’d been sitting in the parking lot. He’d even called Rachel to make sure cell phone reception on Georgia Avenue was working. It was. Maybe the District had a high crime rate and too much air pollution, but at least it had cell phone reception when you needed it.

He
‘d been so busy whining to himself about stakeouts, cell phones, and the lack of coffee, that he’d almost missed Selena Silver walking up to Room 12. Even in the dim light, it was easy to identify Merrell’s lover. He waited a moment until he saw the room lamp go on, cracked open the car window for air, and left Whiskey asleep on the backseat.

He knocked lightly. The
‘do not disturb’ sign hung from the doorknob.

“
Who is it?”

“
Mac Sullivan. I’m a friend of Will Banks. I met your sister last week.”

He could hear the safety chain being removed and the deadbolt unlocked.

Except for the runny nose and bloodshot eyes, Selena Silver was the spitting image of her twin sister, right down to the inch-long nails and bleached blonde hair. She looked like one of the divas of World Wrestling Entertainment. Blue spandex pants clung to her curves as if they had been painted on. Shopping at the Too Small shop, Selena had found a black knit sweater that stopped several inches above her waist. Fake-leopard skin boots with four-inch heels completed the costume. Mac found himself staring in fascination at the woman’s chest. Had Merrell paid for the twin-oversized implants?

“
Eyes up here, buddy.”

Feeling like a sixteen-year-old caught checking out the Playmate of the Month at the 7-11, Mac tried giving a sheepish grin as an apology.

With a nod, Selena seemed to accept it and walked back into the room. She grabbed a fresh tissue from a box and gave her nose a swipe. “So you’re a friend of Will Banks?”

“
Yeah. Looks like you’ve got a miserable head cold.”

“
Allergies. Come inside if you’re coming.” She lit a cigarette. After a long draw, she asked, “So you have the money?”

Mac reluctantly entered and closed the door behind him. The small room reeked of stale tobacco and Chinese takeout. A pile of magazines and old newspapers teetered on the edge of the room desk.

“I’m actually looking for Scott Merrell.”

Her red eyes narrowed to slits.
“You don’t have money from my sister?”

“
Sorry. I need to talk to Merrell.”

“
You didn’t show me any badge.”

“
I’m not a cop.” Mac did what his mother always told him. Tell the truth and stop.

Selena took another drag on her cigarette and sat down on the unmade bed.
“Good luck with that. I haven’t seen the guy in almost a week. Soon as I get money from Sally, I’m blowing this popcorn stand.”

“
Why did you stay?”

She shrugged her shoulders.
“Room’s paid up for two weeks.” The woman grinned. “Maybe I’ll be a tourist before I leave. Stop by the White House. Look around. Check in with my congressman.”

“
Merrell give you any idea when he’d be back?”

Another shrug.
“He wasn’t talking much before he left. Told me to stay put. Watch out for a package from an old buddy of his.”

“
Name?”

Selena closed her eyes in concentration and took another deep drag on the cigarette. Like maybe the tobacco would jar her memory.
“Craft? No, that’s not it. Brian something with a C.”

“
Crager?”

She nodded vigorously.
“Yeah, that’s it. You know him?”

“
Sort of.” Mac continued to follow his sainted mother’s advice. “Did the package arrive?”

Before she could answer, they both heard the key in the lock. Mac quickly pressed his back to the wall, to avoid being seen immediately by whoever was about to walk through the door.

“Baby, I’m sorry it took so long.” A man who looked a lot like the photo of Scott Merrell stepped into the room, his arms full of plastic shopping bags. “I’ve got presents.”

“
Don’t baby me, you lying, two-timing, deadbeat. What in the hell did you expect me to do while you disappear for weeks?”

As Merrell slammed the motel door shut, he caught sight of Mac.

Selena followed her boyfriend’s gaze. She smirked. “I got tired of waiting. Meet your replacement.”

Mac didn
‘t think Selena lied to protect him. She was getting back at Merrell, hoping to make him jealous. A quick read of the expression on Merrell’s face made clear that Selena had lied too often for her cop boyfriend to take her seriously.

“
Who are you?” Without waiting for an answer Merrell suddenly tossed the bags, turned, and was out the door before Mac could grab him.

Mac had always hated chasing suspects. He still hated chasing suspects but he was faster than most people gave him credit for. He caught up to Merrell in the hallway, just as the cop tried to run past the ice machine and a hotel patron who, hampered by a pair of crutches and a heavy leg cast, had been precariously trying to fill his bucket. Merrell managed to hook a crutch as he tried to get by him in the narrow hallway. As they both went down, Mac grabbed the back of Merrell
‘s jacket and yanked backwards, keeping the cop from landing on the other guy’s broken leg.

Merrell recovered quickly. He swung his fist in a wide arc that clipped Mac
‘s jaw.

“
Son of a.…” Mac countered with two rapid punches to Merrell’s gut and an uppercut that knocked the cop’s head backward with an audible snapping noise. “That’s for scaring Bridget.”

Merrell moved sideways, his hand reaching inside his jacket.

Not waiting for the cop to pull his gun, Mac closed the distance and trapped Merrell against the wall, twisting the cop’s arm behind his back. “Hey, idiot. Don’t make me use a chokehold on you. Your wife wanted me to find you and bring you home in one piece. She’s about to lose the house.”

His face smashed against the rough stucco, Merrell mumbled,
“Why should I believe you?”

“
Why shouldn’t you?” Mac countered, trying to catch his breath and wishing he still carried handcuffs.

“
Somebody’s trying to kill me.”

“
What? A popular guy like you has enemies?”

The guest with the broken leg scrambled to crawl away from the confrontation. Mac figured at best, there would be a call to the front desk about two middle-aged men in a brawl. At worst, it would be a call directly to the cops. In any case, he had less than three minutes to get some answers.

Merrell continued squirming to get out of Mac’s grip. He managed to land several hard kicks on Mac’s shin.

“
Shit.” Mac shoved the cop closer to the wall, then leaned in and whispered in his ear. “One more kick and you’re going to be singing soprano with the Vienna Boys Choir. Shut up and listen. This place is going to be swarming with cops in about two minutes. We can stay here and chat with D.C.‘s finest, and I’ll let them know Boston wants to talk to you. Or we can go back to your room and hope that the cops don’t go door to door to find us. What’s it going to be?”

Merrell struggled another few seconds to get free, but Mac held tight.
“Okay, okay. We’ll talk. I’ll get rid of Selena and we can talk in the room.”

Mac stepped back and followed the cop back down the corridor.

“Get out.” Merrell didn’t mince any words. He threw Selena her leather jacket.

“
Where the hell am I supposed to go?” Mac figured that like her sister, Selena knew the drill. She had to get lost so Scott could talk.

“
There’s a bar a block away. I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.”

Selena held out her hand.
“I need some money.”

Merrell pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket and peeled off two 50s.
“Order me some wings.”

“
I need more.”

“
Wings, Selena. Not the whole damn chicken coop.”

“
I’m a good tipper. Being a waitress is hard. I should know. Give me another hundred.” She stood there defiantly, hand outstretched.

Mac was sure she wasn
‘t planning to buy food with the money. A cocaine habit was expensive.

Merrell forked over the bills.

“You’re not there in twenty minutes, don’t be surprised if I find some other company.” The blonde flounced out of the room and slammed the door.

Merrell sat down heavily on the bed. He looked every minute of his 50 years, even older. Booze and women had taken a toll, but Mac sensed some of that aging had occurred in the last two weeks.

“Who are you?”

“
Name’s Mac Sullivan. I’m a friend of Bridget O’Herlihy.”

“
Who?”

“
Reporter at the Boston Globe,” Mac said.

“
That bit–”

“
Watch your mouth!”

“
Forget her.” Merrell started to stand. “What’s this about Ilene and the house?”

“
That’s true too. While you’ve been making your own Love Connection here in D.C., the Boston cops have been harassing your wife and kids. Way to go, Merrell. Another couple of days and your kids will be on the streets or in foster care.”

“
Hey, I love my kids.”

“
Tell you what. Why don’t you share some of that cash with them instead of super-sizing your order of wings, big guy.” Mac was losing patience and no closer to knowing what the hell was going on.

“
So you’re here because of the reporter? I don’t get it.” Merrell looked confused. “All I did was talk to her.”

“
You threatened her, sent her a dead rat as a warning, and tried to kill her twice.” Mac ticked off the charges on his fingers. He wasn’t sure about the last two, but figured he throw the spaghetti against the wall and see what stuck.

“
Kill her?” Merrell’s voice shot up three octaves. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! What is this, some kind of set up?”

“
Keep your voice down.” Mac could hear people in the hall and didn’t want to draw attention to the room.

Merrell stood up and started to pace.
“I talked to the woman one damn time. Just to let her know her articles weren’t appreciated, if you know what I mean. I’m the one somebody’s trying to kill.”

“
Did you send her a package with a dead rat? Just to make sure she got your message?”

Merrell threw up his hands in disgust.
“Who the hell keeps dead rats around? Are you crazy or maybe she is? Maybe your friend Bridget is trying to stir up some trouble. Write some more articles about how the poor reporter was persecuted by the big bad cops.”

A quarter century around lowlifes had taught Mac how to tell blowhards from liars. Merrell might have wanted to scare Bridget, but it looked like she was the least of his worries.

“How do you know Brian Crager?”

Mac
‘s sudden shift in conversation stopped Merrell in his tracks. The cop sat down heavily on the desk chair, the papers that had been teetering on the edge of the desk scattered on the floor.