Reilly 13 - Dreams of the Dead (36 page)

They had found nothing linking him to the killings. Paul had jumped to a conclusion that was wrong. But if Eric was not the author of the Brazilian scam, she was at a complete loss. A huge sum of money was going to be transferred into a separate account in a few hours, and that money wasn’t going to be secure. It might disappear, and she and Paul hadn’t managed to catch the watcher. They had been weakened by their own distraction, their own vulnerabilities, Paul’s jealousy, maybe.

Maybe they were wrong about Hendricks, too. It was all theory and potential motive, without any evidence at all.

An idea crystallized in her mind. She would call Nelson Hendricks right now and warn him strongly and demand that some further protections be put in place first thing in the morning before the money was wired. He could switch banks at the last moment, certainly change all passwords, notify the bank that there might
be some attempt to forge his signature and thus to permit no wires out—he would have to listen to her—

She had Hendricks’s number on her phone. She pulled over to the side of the dark highway before the turn onto Jicarilla Street and her own neighborhood and called.

The office recording took her to his voice mail. He didn’t give any emergency number.

What time would the wire arrive? No one had been able to specify that. Sometime in the morning. Maybe as the doors opened. The rustlers would be there, but unlike the rustlers of yore, the ropes would be unseen and the calves wouldn’t bellow and the sound of the gate’s opening would be silent and electronic.

She went to Wi-Fi and onto the Net, clicking on the car light. Hendricks was on LinkedIn, but without a home address, not on Facebook, not on Twitter. Not a connected guy, and a cautious one, as she would have expected.

She went to a pay website that archived recorded real estate transactions and found that Nelson and Rayanne Hendricks, man and wife, had purchased property at Lot 36 in Block 12, as shown on a certain recorded map, in the City of South Lake Tahoe, State of California, for a valuable consideration, some six years earlier.

Now she accessed the County Planning department and its maps and found that the property was a house in the Tahoe Keys neighborhood, not on the water but close to it. All she could find was the Assessor’s Parcel Number and a map, but it was plenty to find the house.

There was more. She was directed to a list of homes delinquent for more than a year in payment of property taxes, and the Hendricks parcel number was on it. Hendricks was in money trouble, as she had already been warned. The title company executive was not solid.

She decided to go to his house and talk to him. If he didn’t let her do that, she decided to go to the police. She called Paul’s cell phone. No answer. Irritation made her bite her lip.

She drove to the Keys.

Newer and more affluent than Gene’s block, the neighborhood had bright streetlighting, but even though it was only nine o’clock, there was no activity at the tiny shopping center she passed. She found her way to the third house on the left on Clement Street. A standard two-story model with a double garage in front below a small, useless-looking balcony, it had no cars visible. After all this adrenaline expenditure Hendricks might not even be home. She parked in the driveway, activating a motion floodlight, grabbed her purse, and marched up to the covered doorway, where the front door was already opening.

“What are you doing here?” Hendricks said, standing in the doorway in black sweats, his wife beside him in matching red sweats. Behind them Nina could hear a TV program, the frenzied music of which announced the climactic moment was arriving.

“I need to talk to you.”

“What’s happened?”

“It’s what may happen tomorrow.”

“Come to my office in the morning. We open at eight a.m.” His astonishment was turning to suspicion, and for a moment she considered herself, a woman standing in a stranger’s doorway at night making vague pronouncements. She might look nuts.

“The escrow account isn’t safe,” she said.

“What? How do you know that? Of course it’s safe.” But his face went ashen. “Better come in, then.” He opened the door wide and Nina followed them into a big, clean family room dominated by a stone fireplace. To the right was a massive television on a massive stand. There were two couches, a chair and a lamp, a couple of unobtrusive pictures on the walls. It was the room of a vacation home, bare and unassuming, and she remembered that they were trying to sell the place. But she had seen no sign outside, and she had looked at the multiple-listing service on the Net without result. “Take your boots off, please,” Rayanne Hendricks said, and Nina unzipped them and for the first time since 7:00 a.m. felt her toes in their damp socks. In the warm room she suddenly felt a wave
of fatigue. She sat down on one of the couches uninvited, as Hendricks turned off the TV and sat down opposite her.

“Now what is happening?” he said. “What’s this about the escrow?”

“I’m Ray,” his wife said. She sat down next to him, close, their legs touching. She was Chinese-American, with sallow skin and big eyes. Nina’s eyes went to the electric scooter visible in the kitchen. It seemed to sparkle under the bright kitchen light like a tiny, brand-new car. Yet Rayanne Hendricks had walked to the door, sat down. Nina flashed to her mother, who had also suffered from a serious illness that sometimes didn’t show. She looked at the woman with sympathy.

“I’m waiting,” Hendricks said.

“All right, I’ll get right to it. I told you earlier today that the money being wired tomorrow into the account for which you are the trustee has been more or less channeled there as a result of false affidavits from Brazil.”

“What do you have new to tell me? Besides the baseless information you already gave me?”

“You have to take additional steps to protect it.” She explained her ideas. Hendricks frowned. “The body of Jim Strong was stolen from a grave it has lain in for more than two years, and the police will have forensic proof of that soon enough,” she said. “But not soon enough to protect the wired money, if it comes in tomorrow.”

“Are you going to court to ask for some sort of delay?” Hendricks asked. “Wouldn’t that be more in keeping with your, er, procedures, rather than coming to my home late at night and repeating the same stories to me?”

“There isn’t time. You can protect the money, Mr. Hendricks. You can refuse to accept the wire.”

“A violation of my contractual agreements and fiduciary responsibilities,” he said pompously. “And a court order. I can’t do that. I am the only person authorized to withdraw money from the account once it is received.”

“Whoever came up with this scheme in Brazil is a gifted forger who’s had close contact with the Strong family. Who else would know how to mimic Jim Strong’s signature so well?”

Hendricks paled. “Who exactly do you think could do such a thing?”

“I’m not sure. Someone you work with?”

“No one has access to my passwords and codes. We keep bank account numbers and so on in a safe. I locked it up personally tonight. It certainly is not one of my staff. I’ve known them all for years and years.”

“Has any stranger been in your office recently while you were working with those numbers? Please think carefully. Who have you spoken with about this account?”

“Well, besides you, Philip Strong and his family, and Mr. Stamp, the lawyer. And Mr. Brinkman. I have spoken about this account in open court in front of Judge Flaherty. It’s been discussed in the newspaper. Ms. Reilly, you’re obviously very tired, and this has all been a strain on you. You’re not thinking straight. I think you need to go home.”

“Oh, please. I didn’t invent those affidavits, and I didn’t murder two women.”

Both of them sat up straighter at hearing that, and Nina told them about the link between the sale and Cyndi Backus’s lover. She saw Ray cast a quick glance at her husband and thought, She wondered there for a second if it could be him, but she doesn’t believe it is. He’s faithful and she knows he loves her.

Ray seemed shaken. “I don’t understand. What a mess.” Hendricks put his arm around his wife’s shoulder and glared at Nina. “It’s late, and you haven’t brought me anything but wild suspicions. You should go. My wife needs her sleep.”

But Ray had something to add. “I hate it here. I’m glad we are leaving the country, moving to Taiwan, where I grew up. This is a good example. Women killed over money, like they are nothing and nobody. I don’t feel safe in the streets, and Reno, where I used to work, is worse. I can’t stand it here one more minute.”

“When—,” Nina started, but Hendricks gave his wife a little push and said, “Darling, you’re going to bed right now.” He was firm but loving, helping her stand.

“Nice meeting you,” Ray said. “Good luck. I’m sure Nelson will keep your money safe.” She looked lovingly into her husband’s eyes. “He’s good man.”

Her husband blinked a few times, watching her progress as she walked slowly into the hall and shut the door.

Nina kept her eyes steady on him. She said nothing. She was processing the information his wife had given her.

A seismic shift took place in her mind, and Hendricks saw it.

“Now you get out of here,” he said, voice as tight as his thin lips. “I’ll sue you for blackening my character in the community. Now you’ve come around and upset my sick wife. I’m coming after you just as soon as this deal goes through. You won’t get another client in this community. I’ll make sure of it.”

Nina didn’t move. “Quit blustering. It’s a major thing, moving to another country, and it’s expensive. How can you afford it? I wonder. Are you expecting big money for some reason?”

“I expect I’ll call the police.” But he made no move to do so, and Nina felt a mad rush of excitement as the facts continued to realign in her brain. Nelson Hendricks was breaking, knew that she was putting things together in her mind, that the notion they all had, that he was a good man, had crumbled with those few innocent words of his wife. He breathed hard, his body writhed, as if enduring a titanic struggle.

“You’re part of it,” Nina blurted. “You’re in on it.”

“Shut up.”

She watched him hold back, wanting to give her a push out the door but restraining himself. A smart man, he thought carefully before he acted. “We can stop the escrow, Mr. Hendricks. I don’t believe you killed those women. You needed money, you agreed to take part in an embezzlement, but you’re not a murderer.”

“A murderer? Never!”

“Who are you working with, Mr. Hendricks? Maybe you didn’t
know about the murders being connected to this deal. Maybe you can get out of this before you get yourself into serious trouble with the law. What good will you be to your wife then?”

Hendricks didn’t move. Nina wasn’t afraid of him. He seemed paralyzed by anger and indecision. His wife opened the hall door. Nina realized she had been eavesdropping. “Oh, my poor poor Nel,” she cried.

“Shhh.” He raised up a hand, as if he could stop her.

She held on to the doorway and wobbled.

“Please, go to bed,” Hendricks said. “Ms. Reilly’s leaving. I’ll handle this like I handle everything, okay?”

“You shouldn’t have done this for me, Nel.”

Her husband moved fast toward her, fast enough to catch her before she fell. She leaned against him, fingers tight on his arm. “I knew,” she said in a low voice weighted by years of love and trust. “I knew we didn’t have the money. Will they take you away from me? Then what will I have left? I need you.”

“Nobody can take me from you. Nobody.” He looked at Nina.

“Tell me who you’re working with, Mr. Hendricks,” Nina said.

“Lady, you do what you feel you should do, which is exactly what I plan to do. Meanwhile, stop hounding me and my wife.”

“If you cooperate with me, tell me what the deal is, I promise to testify on your behalf later.”

“Testify on my behalf? My job is to keep her well. And that’s what I’m going to do. I’ve done nothing wrong and you have no business here. Go home. Kiss your husband if you have one.” He looked at her bare fingers.

“You’re not safe! She’s not safe! Brenda Bee and Cyndi Backus were both killed because they could identify your partner. Your partner is a very dangerous man. Do it for your wife. Tell me who it is so I can put a stop to all this before you go to jail and lose everything that means anything to you!”

“Get out!”

Ray Hendricks, apparently fortified by her husband’s support,
lifted her head, rallied, sounding suddenly very like her husband back in his office. “Please. Go away.”

“Okay. I’m going.” Nina walked toward the door. “But I guarantee you this, Mr. Hendricks, there will be no transfer of funds in the morning. You won’t manage it, because I have all night to put a stop to this, and I will.”

At the door, she pulled on her boots and zipped them. Hendricks and his wife stayed across the room, whispering and touching. They seemed to have forgotten her.

N
ina got into the RAV, drove around the block, parked again, and called Paul. Voice mail again. “Paul, you jerk, where are you? I’m absolutely convinced Hendricks is going to take off with some or all of the escrow money within ten minutes after it’s wired in the morning. I’m sitting in my car. Call me!” She called Bob again. She had no phone messages at home.

So. Should she go to the police? What did she have?

What she had, right now, wasn’t enough. Hendricks hadn’t exactly confessed.

Cyndi’s friend had linked the two cases. A double murder investigation was going on. Cheney would be interested in that conversation. But his interest was in the crimes already committed.

It’s not so easy to preemptively stop a crime. Justice moves stiffly, cautiously. The evidence that a crime is about to be committed must be unequivocal. The opposing counsel in a civil case often tries to pull all sorts of outside strings to demoralize the other side. It’s a chess game with an aggressive defense. She would be accused of making up the whole thing.

She called Michael Stamp’s office and left a message. She went online to the state bar to try to get a home phone number or address on him, but like most lawyers he kept that information private.