One Deadly Sister (Sandy Reid Mystery Series #1) (28 page)

“I doubt that. He was a big danger to her and her mother. The calculating little accountant from Tampa figured out a slick way to write him off. I’ll just keep thinking she had me and some other women in mind.”

“I still want to see you again before you leave.”

“Chip, I’ve decided not to go...at least, not right away.”

“What? Oh, you’re not. You’re not leaving. Oh, that’s good.”

“We should meet for coffee.”

Sandy was discharged mid-morning. Sergeant Lewis picked her up at the emergency entrance in a blue and white and drove her to the police impound lot. He explained he should go along to be sure she had no trouble getting Ray’s car released. And he had something important to tell her.

“Now that you’re okay, I can tell you how close you came. Chip radioed for an ambulance as soon as you told him you were being chased. He didn't wait to decide anything. That ambulance was screaming down that back road before you even hit the ditch. Those few extra minutes saved you. Your vehicle was upside down, the top half submerged in water. Your head was actually under mud. We don’t understand how it was possible for him to shift your car enough to get that seatbelt undone while he was sinking in mud like quicksand.”

“He told me he had some difficulty getting my seatbelt undone.”

“Yes, the difficulty was he had to lift the car. The tow truck driver didn’t see how it could be done.”

Sergeant Lewis stopped his police vehicle at the impound office and turned to her. “Now I have terrible news for you on another subject. Many guys in the department are coming down hard on Huress for attacking you in his pickup. He blames you for that, for bringing charges and for putting it all in the newspaper. He never gives up on a grudge. He’ll get back at anyone who’s ever caused him a problem. He’s the type to take revenge on you, Sandy.”

“Thanks, Sarge, that was in the back of my mind. I’ll be careful.”

“No, you’re not getting it. He told his drinking buddy at a bar, he intends to see you laid bare and wasted. I can’t say his actual words.”

“Tell me his words. I must know.”

“Isn’t what I just told you bad enough? I’m not saying his words.”

She stared at him waiting.

“He said you think you’re too good for him.”

“And?”

“In so many words, he said when he’s through, you won’t be good enough for anyone.” The sergeant couldn’t look at her. “I’m telling you, he definitely will come after you. He knows who he’s up against now. And it will be unexpected.”

“Well, I’m not going to hide, and I’m not going to start carrying a gun.” She wasn’t so certain about the second part. She signed for Ray's car at the pound. They walked together to find the car.

“Here it is.” Lewis compared the number on the windshield to the number on the key tag.

“This can’t be it,” she said, “this is a stupid Ford. Not just a stupid Ford, it’s green! I can’t drive around in a stupid green Ford?”

He laughed. “You could wear a disguise.”

“Yeah, a clown costume.” She got in and slammed the car door shut. The glove compartment flopped open. She reached over and banged it shut hard. The compartment door broke completely and fell off. She crossed her fingers and turned the key. After three heart-stopping cranks, the car reluctantly groaned to life, more or less. She thanked the sergeant and blew him a kiss.

Her phone buzzed. Attorney Kagan said, “Miss Reid, glad you’re okay. I know you’re close to that reporter, Linda Call. Did you know the police picked her up and brought her to the station? She was seen in the interrogation room with Goddard.”

“So what? She’s probably interviewing him.”

“Definitely the other way around. They brought her in for questioning. They tested her gun. She was at the murder scene.”

“The gun won’t be a match. And I know she was up there with CSI, she told me.”

“No, earlier that day, she was up there with Towson.”

“Oh great, she told me only that she talked to him that day. She didn’t say it like they were face to face.” Sandy thought about other possible lies. It gets worse. I haven’t had a chance to brief you, Jerry. Linda Call isn’t all she seems. She’s Cuban-American and from Tampa. Why bother to lie about that?”

“If she’s connected to the family, then they might have been working against us all along. They would want your brother convicted to cover up whatever is going on.”

“I know, Linda could be a threat, but we could really use her help. If she’s involved then there goes the cooperation with the paper. I’m going to see her now.”

“You need help sooner than you think. I was just informed that your brother is scheduled for transfer out to the county jail tomorrow. Good luck, Miss Reid, and keep your head down.”

S
andy hated the situation. She had to know if Linda was with her or against her. She needed Linda on her side. Having the situation in doubt was impossible. Twenty-four hours were left before Raymond would go from bad to worse.

She needed a shrewd angle fast. Perhaps she could persuade Linda to get some sort of controversial editorial printed that would upset things and delay the transfer. Maybe Linda wouldn’t cooperate. Maybe Linda had something else in mind.

When Sandy entered the newsroom of the Park Beach newspaper Linda gave her a happy wave. “Hi Sugar, look at this." She pointed to her monitor. “My interview with old Mrs. Crawford.”

“Anything good?”

“She saw a woman leaving the building a little after five that day but not up close. Crawford was down the block walking her dog.”

“She recognize the woman?”

“She assumed it was ‘that Spanish lady’ because she recognized the scarf. They had met weeks earlier in the elevator, and they had talked about the scarf. Mrs. Crawford remembered the scarf because it had red and blue triangles, just like the pattern on a tablecloth she received as a wedding present sixty years ago.”

Sandy smiled. “Let me guess. And she knew it was five, because she always walks the dog after her favorite TV show is over. Also, she didn’t hear any shots because she’s deaf.”

“Corny but correct. If the world was inhabited with little old ladies, we’d all have an easier time of it.”

“Was the woman wearing the scarf on her head?”

“You mean like hiding her face, I just assumed that. Also, she doesn’t remember what else the woman was wearing. You look different, Sandy. What’s wrong, this whole business getting to you?”

“Linda, you acted surprised when I mentioned Mrs. Crawford to you the other day, yet you must have been aware of her. There are only two apartments on that floor. You’ve been to Towson’s apartment several times.”

“You’re right, a cop at the scene said there was a witness who described the scarf. I didn’t think about Mrs. Crawford. But yes, I knew Towson from over the years. Sandy, you’re using an accusatory tone and I think I know why. I must confess I did something very dumb.”

“I don’t want to hear this.”

“No, not that bad. Goddard hauled me in because they found my prints on a wine glass found on Towson’s nightstand.”

“Geez, how does one explain one’s prints at a murder scene?”

“In the middle of the afternoon that day, I went up there and interviewed Towson. I had a glass of wine with him in the study. After we talked, I picked up the glasses and put them in the kitchen by the sink. I left and forgot all about it.”

Clever, very clever, Sandy thought. However, why try to hide it, if that’s what actually happened? “So, how did the glasses find their way onto the nightstands?”

Linda shrugged, she didn’t know.

“You didn’t think having wine with him was important enough to tell the police?”

“No, I didn’t. Why would I think it was significant to have a glass of wine with him in the study? Why on earth would I think someone would move my dirty glass from the kitchen to the bedroom?”

“Actually, the fact you put your dirty glass in the kitchen proves my theory of the bedroom scene being staged. The clever killer saw the dirty glasses and realized that someone’s prints must be on them and placed them in the bedroom.”

“This is all news to me. I didn’t even know about wine glasses being found on the nightstands.”

Here goes, showdown time. Was she with Sandy or against her? “Linda, have you been following me?”

“No, just that one night when Huress was stalking you. What makes you say that?”

“I have trouble believing you parked outside my apartment for two hours for investigative reporting reasons. Was that the truth?”

Linda waited some time before answering, “God, I feel like I’m back in high school right now. The truth is I kind of got fixated on you.”

“Fixated?”

“Oh, God this is terrible. Sandy, the truth is you’ve just blown me away.” She barely got the words out. She turned and took a deep breath. Her eyes were glistening when she looked back.

Sandy said nothing.

“So now you know. I couldn’t believe it when you first walked in here. You have that big-city look and style. This is a small seaside town, there’s nothing like you between Atlanta and Palm Beach.” She straightened and made an embarrassed laugh. “I have to stop telling you this stuff because, if I go on, I’ll scare the hell out of you. You’ll run out of here screaming.”

“This
is
upsetting, Linda.”

“The reason I parked outside your apartment for two hours is simple, I did it so I could be close to you. I sat staring up at your window imagining what you were doing. Wondering what you had on. And what I could do to impress you.” She had to pause. “I never expected to have a chance—.”

Linda was trembling. Sandy reached over and patted her arm. “It’s okay you don’t have to go on. Let’s leave it right there.”

“I’m over it now, I’m all better.” Linda laughed.

Sandy could see that she wasn’t. Was her emotional outburst award-winning or sincere? Sandy wanted to think sincere, but she’d been wrong before. Perhaps, this was the time to get things straight. “Linda, you told me you were from Georgia.”

Linda’s head snapped up. She stared hard at Sandy.

“Please tell me it’s not important, Linda. Tell me you’re not hiding anything. Tell me you decided to anglicize your name and lie about Georgia just for the hell of it.”

“I just told you how strongly I feel about you, Sandy. I thought we were friends. What’s with the third degree? You’re looking at me suspiciously. What are you accusing me of? You think I’m in some Cuban gang or something? I can’t handle all this!” She got up and walked to the window.

Sandy followed her. “I just mentioned Georgia. I didn’t say anything about Cubans. Boy, you’re really touchy about something. Calm down Linda. You know you
did
tell me you were from Georgia.”

Linda was steamed. Her voice shook, “My father’s from Georgia, he’s up there now,
okay
? Mom’s Cuban and lives in Tampa. So, I’m half Cuban,
okay
?” Then angrily, “Does that bother you,
Sugar
?”

Sandy jerked backward and her mouth dropped open. “Linda! You just spat out ‘Sugar’ like it was the ugliest word in the world.” She put her hands to her face, turned and hurried toward the stairway.

Linda hesitated for only a moment and then ran after her. “I’m sorry!” She caught her at the top of the stairs and turned her around. “I’m sorry, Sandy. We’re still getting to know each other.” Linda reached out and took Sandy’s hands.

“Be fair, Linda, you put yourself in the middle of all this. I didn’t accuse you of anything. We all know Tampa Cuban-Americans are involved in this. Perhaps innocently, yet the questions are there whether we like it or not.”

“I know. I’m hyper about it. Let’s go back to my desk and talk.”

“Half of Florida is Cuban-American. You can’t be hypersensitive about that.”

“I just thought it would be nice to be a Georgia peach, but that’s not going to happen either.”

“You’re lovely, just the way you are.”

“You don’t understand. I want to meet someone. Not everyone feels the way you do.”

“Tampa has a great history with Cuban-Americans,” Sandy said. “You mean you felt prejudice over there?”

“Not until after I came out. In a club one night, someone said to my date, ‘Hey, Sister, looks like you’re going to get some of that Cube stuff tonight.” They were joking and didn’t mean to hurt, yet it was said.”

“A crude remark, but I don’t see ‘Cube’ as a slur. Still, I’m from up north and not in your shoes, so possibly it is. You know, sometimes a thoughtless remark is just a thoughtless remark.

“I know, and they didn’t say it to be mean. They were just dumb to say it that way. Yet there it was. If you asked me if I was proud to be part Cuban, I’d say sure. But I was a bit different, and I didn’t want to be any different. Consequently, I changed the spelling of my name and moved to Park Beach.”

“But down here you hear jokes about Georgia rednecks, never any about Cuban-Americans.”