Swag Bags and Swindlers (17 page)

C
HAPTER
23

I
'm not big on suspense.

I wanted to know exactly what was going on with Brianna King in Palmdale, the one phone call between her and Ty, his traffic accident around the time of Kelvin Davis's murder, Ty being named as a person of interest in the investigation, and the cash and gun I'd found inside the closet of my second bedroom. Somehow, it was all connected. It had to be. Nothing was that much of a coincidence.

So I figured that if I learned what had gone on between Ty and Brianna, I'd know more about Kelvin Davis's death.

That wasn't everything, of course.

I had no trouble admitting that to myself as I drove north on the 14 freeway toward Palmdale after my day had ended at L.A. Affairs. Luckily, I wasn't scheduled for a shift at Holt's tonight, so I didn't have to make up a reason for not going in.

I think Jeanette was wise to my touch-of-the-stomach-flu excuse, a personal favorite of mine.

What I really wanted to know was what, exactly, had gone on between Brianna and Ty while we were dating. The simplest and easiest way to end the suspense was for me to simply ask Ty. But I didn't want him to think I was snooping in his private affairs like some crazy ex-girlfriend. We'd broken up, so, really, it was none of my business.

But, kind of, it was.

He'd made that phone call to Brianna and headed for Palmdale while we were officially boyfriend-girlfriend. He'd kept the whole thing a secret from me. I could think of only one reason he would do that.

I got an icky feeling in my stomach.

If I discovered that he'd been involved with Brianna while we were dating, I'd be devastated.

If I discovered that little girl was his, I didn't know how I'd manage.

Not even weapons-grade chocolate would get me through it.

It was almost dark by the time I exited the freeway onto Rancho Vista Boulevard and drove to Brianna's neighborhood. Streetlights were lit. Windows glowed a welcoming yellow. I flipped a U in the cul-de-sac and pulled up to the curb across the street and down the block from Brianna's place. I killed the engine and my headlights so as not to attract attention from the neighbors.

Brianna's house was dark. She must not have gotten home from work yet—if she worked. I didn't really know. But I wasn't going to sit here without finding out for sure. I jumped out of the car, rang her doorbell, and waited. When I didn't get an answer, I got back into my Honda.

The last thing I wanted to do was sit and stew about my upcoming confrontation with Brianna. Calling Marcie was an option, but I wasn't up to talking about it—not even to my BFF. I killed a few minutes checking my Facebook page and my e-mail, and was tempted to play Candy Crush for a while, but the box of items Alden the Great had lifted from the Hollywood Haven residents took my attention.

I pulled it off the seat next to me, switched on my phone's flashlight app, and peered inside. There were about a dozen or so items and none of them looked anywhere as expensive as Shana's ruby and diamond earrings. I spotted a couple of hairbrushes, a stick of deodorant, socks, a scarf, and other personal items. Nothing of great value, but I was sure the owners wanted them back.

At the bottom of the box I spotted a book. I'd have to return it first, I decided, in case the reader was only half finished and didn't want to be left hanging.

But when I pulled it out, I saw that it was a journal. The cover was pale lavender, faded now with time. The corners were frayed. I opened it and saw that all the pages were filled with graceful, flowery handwriting. They smelled musty and the edges were tattered.

I turned to the first page, but there was no name, no address, nothing to indicate who it belonged to, but I knew it must have been a woman who'd written in it so faithfully.

I glanced at Brianna's house. Still dark.

Not that I wanted to pry into anybody's private life, but surely whoever had put this much effort into recording her thoughts would want them back. I flipped through the journal hoping I could find a name or some indication of who the journal belonged to.

As I turned the pages I realized these weren't accounts of daily life like a diary, they were all poems. Love poems.

I wasn't a huge poetry fan—not that any number of my high school English teachers hadn't tried to convert me—but even I could see that these were beautifully written. Each poem flowed with an outpouring of undying love and commitment, passion and everlasting devotion.

What would it be like, I wondered, to love someone so much that you'd have those kinds of words inside you? What would it feel like to be on the receiving end of that much love?

The image of Ty bloomed in my head. Tall, handsome, generous Ty. We'd shared so much, yet it had turned out to be so little.

I closed the journal and put it back in the box. Tears sprang into my eyes.

Would anyone ever love me like that?

Why couldn't it have been Ty?

Headlights beamed into my car and I looked up in time to see the garage door on Brianna King's house roll up and a BMW pull inside. The door closed.

Had he loved her like that? Once? Still?

“Enough,” I muttered aloud as I shook off the weight of my emotions. I checked my makeup, grabbed my handbag, and hurried to the front door.

The lights came on in the living room window as I rang the bell. Mentally, I braced myself for whatever might happen. Brianna could refuse to speak to me, refuse to let me in the house. If she did, really, I couldn't blame her. Still, I had to find a way to get her to talk to me—at least about Ty's connection to Kelvin Davis.

I heard voices from inside the house, then the door opened a few inches. I straightened my shoulders, ready to convince Brianna to let me in—only she wasn't there.

“Hi,” a little voice said.

I looked down and saw a tiny girl peeking up at me, her body hidden behind the door.

My heart nearly stopped.

“Would you like to come inside?” she asked.

She had light brown hair.

Like Ty.

“Reese, honey, no.” Brianna appeared, blocking the doorway. “You don't open the door unless I'm here with you, remember?”

Her eyes were blue.

Ty had blue eyes.

“Sorry, Mommy,” she said.

Did she have any of his facial features? Did she resemble him in the slightest way?

Her nose, maybe. I couldn't be sure.

Maybe it was my imagination.

“It's all right, sweetie. Just remember next time,” Brianna said.

Maybe I should leave.

Brianna turned to me. “Can I help you?”

I could tell her I'd made a mistake, that I was at the wrong house—something so I could leave without arousing suspicion. For a few seconds I was tempted to do that.

But I didn't. I wanted to know the truth. I
had
to know the truth.

Gulping back my emotions, I forced a smile and tried not to come across like I was there to sell her something.

I'd only seen Brianna from a distance the last time I was here—tall, dark haired, pretty, early thirties. Today she had on nice pants and a sweater, and her hair was in a casual updo, as if she'd been at work all day.

“I'm a friend of Ada Cameron,” I said, thinking it best not to mention Ty's name yet.

“Ada?” Brianna gasped softly. “Is Ada okay? She's not sick or anything, is she?”

“No, it's nothing like that,” I told her. “My name is Haley Randolph. I wanted to talk to you—”

“Haley?” she asked, and her face lit up. “Ty's girlfriend? He told me all about you. Come inside. Is Ty with you?”

Oh my God, what was happening?

Brianna looked past me, craning her neck to see outside.

“No, he's not here,” I said.

Brianna stepped back and waved me into the house. The living room was decorated in warm shades of brown with splashes of bright blue. The furniture looked worn but in a good way, as if family and friends gathered here often. A few toys were scattered on the floor in front of the television, and a basket of laundry sat beside the sofa.

“Sit down, sit down,” Brianna insisted. “Can I get you something? I have soda, probably—no, I'm out. I didn't get by the grocery store. Would you like coffee?”

A beer might get me through the rest of my visit—not even a mocha Frappuccino would cut it—but I thought it better to keep a clear head.

“No, but thank you,” I said, as I settled onto the sofa.

“Mommy, can I play with your iPad?” Reese asked.

Brianna glanced at her wristwatch. “Okay, just for a few minutes. Then it's dinner, homework, bath, and bed.”

“Okay, Mommy.” Reese gave me a grin and a little wave, and disappeared down the hall.

Brianna sank onto the chair closest to where I sat on the end of the sofa and said, “I should have recognized you, Haley, from all the pictures Ty showed me.”

“He told you about me—us?” I asked.

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “I've never seen him so taken with anyone before. Of course, with Ty you have to read between the lines. But I could see he was crazy about you.”

Apparently, Ty and Brianna hadn't spoken lately because she didn't know that we'd broken up. Either that or Ty had kept it from her.

“When did you two last talk?” I asked.

She frowned, remembering. “Oh, gosh, it's been a while now. Time gets away from me. The weeks just fly by. Who can keep up?”

I figured her life was a faster pace than mine, with a job, a house, a child to take care of and, apparently, no husband—which meant no help with any of those things.

“So, what's going on with Ada?” Brianna asked. “Frankly, I'm surprised she remembered me, after all these years.”

Brianna seemed open and honest, so I couldn't see trying to dance around the situation.

“Ada's fine,” I said. “It's Ty I'm worried about. Homicide detectives want to question him in the death of Kelvin Davis.”

“Oh, no . . .” Brianna leaned forward, covering her face with both hands. “No, no, no.”

“Did you know?” I asked.

Brianna drew herself up and shook her head. “I should never have called Ty. I shouldn't have involved him. But I was at my wit's end and I . . . I didn't have anywhere else to turn.”

“I know you and Ty were involved several years ago,” I said.

A quick smile parted her lips. “Ada told you that, didn't she? She's such a sweetheart. I think she wanted it to be true, but really, Ty and I were just friends.”

“You—you were?” I asked, and swallowed hard.

Brianna smiled and got a little dreamy eyed. “We had a big crowd of friends. We'd all met up in Europe, then came back to Los Angeles and hung out. It was just one big party back then.”

Ty? A big partier?

The smile faded from her face. “Then things changed. You know how it is. You have a great circle of friends for a while, then everybody moves on.”

Hearing about this different side of Ty and learning that he and Brianna had merely been friends was a lot to take in—and none of it related to the murder of a con man who'd bilked hundreds of investors out of millions of dollars.

“What does this have to do with Kelvin Davis?” I asked.

Brianna looked a little surprised by my question.

“I was married to him,” she said.

C
HAPTER
24

I
couldn't help it. My mouth fell open.

“Not one of my best decisions,” Brianna murmured, then flashed a quick smile. “But I have Reese and she's made it all worthwhile.”

I still couldn't say anything. Luckily, Brianna kept talking.

“Kelvin was ambitious and driven, and he had lots of money,” Brianna said. “I was young and in awe of him, and completely taken in by his expensive car, his fancy clothes and watches, his condo in Century City, the office he had in Malibu with a view of the ocean. He was always spending massive amounts of money.”

“I can see why you were impressed,” I said.

“Even though we'd known each other for only a couple of months,” she said, “one night in Vegas we threw caution to the wind and got married.”

“Just like that?” I asked.

“Big mistake. I regretted it pretty soon afterward, which is why I kept my maiden name,” Brianna said.

“You figured out what he was up to?” I asked.

“It wasn't long before I began to suspect that Kelvin's business dealings weren't on the up and up,” she said. “I realized how secretive and manipulative he was—not just with his clients, but with me, too.”

“That's not good,” I said.

“The charge cards he gave me started getting declined,” she said. “He began getting strange phone calls at all hours of the day and night. He'd leave for long periods of time and not tell me where he was going or what he was doing. I became suspicious, but I really had no idea what he was up to.”

“That must have been awful for you,” I said.

“Then I found out I was pregnant.”

“Oh my God,” I said. “What did you do?”

“Got a divorce. Kelvin didn't fight me on it.” Brianna waved her hands around the room. “He bought me this house as a parting gift and took off. I counted myself lucky that I didn't see or hear from him again.”

“But you learned about his arrest, the things he'd done, the people he'd cheated?” I asked.

She nodded. “It was all over the news. Thank goodness, nobody made the connection to Reese and me. I was glad I'd had him buy me a house here in Palmdale near my sister, away from Los Angeles.”

I sat there for a few seconds, processing everything she'd told me. I didn't think my opinion of Kelvin Davis could sink any lower, but it did.

She'd been through a lot—and with a baby, too.

“And you never heard from him after the divorce?” I asked.

“Well, actually . . . I did.” Brianna squared her shoulders and drew in a breath. “After Kelvin jumped bail and disappeared, years went by. Not a word from him. Nothing. Then, suddenly, he showed up here at the house.”

“He wanted to see Reese?” I asked.

“He wanted money,” Brianna said.

“Jackass,” I said.

She nodded. “He was flat broke. He wanted me to sell the house or refi it and cash-out the equity and give it to him. He told me that since he'd paid for it, he was entitled.”

I got an icky feeling.

“You didn't do it, did you?” I asked.

“No way. Without a mortgage payment I have some financial breathing room. I've got Reese in private school. I'm putting money in a college fund for her. I wasn't going to give that up for Kelvin,” Brianna said.

I was relieved to hear her say those things, and I admired that she put her child first. That couldn't always be easy.

“Then things got ugly, really ugly,” Brianna said. “When I refused to give in about the house, Kelvin threatened to go public with our relationship.”

“Oh my God, you're kidding.”

“He said he would drag me—and Reese—through the mud,” she said. “I wasn't going to allow that to happen to Reese. I wasn't going to let her life, and her future, be ruined. Some of the families of the kids she's in school with might have lost money because of Kelvin's swindles. Can you imagine what it would be like for her if word got out about who her daddy was?”

Yeah, Brianna was a great mom, all right.

“And I was afraid that the court might seize my house to pay back some of the people who'd lost money in Kelvin's schemes,” she said.

“So you called Ty?” I asked.

“I hated to do it. We hadn't seen each other or talked in years. But I didn't have anywhere else to turn. My family doesn't have the kind of money Kelvin wanted,” Brianna said. She smiled and heaved a sigh. “One phone call to Ty. I drove down to L.A. and met with him, told him everything. He agreed immediately. Not a moment's hesitation.”

“That sounds like Ty,” I said.

“So I told Kelvin what was going to happen and gave him Ty's contact information,” Brianna explained. “They met and Ty gave him the cash.”

That explained why a note with Ty's info and fingerprints was found in Kelvin's possession when his body was discovered. Brianna's fingerprints were likely on that note, too. All I could figure was that her prints weren't in the system, so the detectives hadn't connected her to the crime scene—or maybe the detectives weren't that far along in their investigation yet.

It also explained why Ty was so reluctant to agree to be interviewed by the cops. He didn't want to implicate Brianna.

“How much money did Kelvin want?” I asked, but I was sure I already knew the amount.

“A lot,” she said. “But he settled for fifty thousand dollars because Ty could get it to him in cash immediately.”

“And Ty paid him?” I asked. “You're sure?”

“Positive.”

Okay, that was weird. Why was fifty grand in my closet if Ty had given that amount to Kelvin Davis?

“Ty came by the house after it was done and told me he'd handled it,” Brianna said.

“Were there any problems between Ty and Kelvin?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No. Ty seemed fine. He stayed for a while, played with Reese, and showed me the pictures of you.”

“And that was it?”

Brianna thought for a few seconds. “Oh, and he told me he'd been in a minor car accident a few days before—I asked why he was driving a rental—and he said that you two were living together.”

Ty had, in fact, stayed at my apartment immediately after his car accident. On several occasions he'd gone out and had been very vague about his whereabouts—so vague, I'd strongly suspected he'd been lying to me.

My thoughts jetted back to those few days, and everything that had happened—including the suspected lies—fell into place in my mind.

Ty had been on his way to Palmdale to meet with Kelvin and pay him off when he'd been involved in the car accident. Ty must have thought the duffel bag with the cash and gun had been stolen by someone during the crash cleanup—he couldn't exactly file a complaint, under the circumstances. Then, not realizing it was in my closet, he'd gotten his hands on another fifty grand—no problem for a man of his means—driven back to Palmdale, paid off Kelvin, then stopped by Brianna's house and told her everything was handled.

After their amicable meeting, had Kelvin attempted to blackmail Ty for more money? Had things gotten heated? Had Ty come back to Palmdale, met Kelvin in that deserted house, and shot him?

He couldn't have, I realized, because the gun was in the duffel bag inside my closet—unless Ty owned a second pistol, which didn't seem likely.

A wave of calm washed over me. I'd always known Ty couldn't have killed Kelvin. Now, after listening to Brianna's story, everything made sense and I knew I'd been right.

“I didn't know the police wanted to question Ty. I had no idea,” Brianna said. “He should have told me.”

“That's not his style.”

“I'll call the police and explain what happened,” Brianna said. “I can't stand by and do nothing if Ty's in trouble.”

“I don't think it's a good idea for you to contact the cops,” I said. “Not yet, anyway.”

The homicide detectives investigating Kelvin Davis's murder probably hadn't uncovered the fact that he'd been married. Since Brianna was using her maiden name and they were wed in Nevada, the investigators weren't likely to stumble over that info without a lot of digging.

“Ty was helping me,” Brianna said. “I can't sit back and do nothing, pretend I don't know what's going on.”

I understood how she felt, but couldn't go along with it. “You can't be sure how the detectives will interpret your explanation,” I said. “They might see it in a way you never intended, and both Ty and you would end up in hot water.”

“I didn't think about that,” Brianna said.

“Don't say anything for now,” I said. “And you shouldn't try to contact Ty. The police might be monitoring his calls.”

She nodded. “All right, if you think it's for the best. But you'll tell him I'm not going to leave him twisting in the wind over this, won't you? I can't do that—not after what he did for me and for Reese. I'll go to the police and explain everything if he wants me to.”

“Sure,” I said, though I didn't know when I could see Ty again or how I'd explain that I'd gotten the message from Brianna to deliver to him. I'd have to figure out something, if it came to that.

We were quiet for a few minutes. All I'd been able to think about for so long was my suspicion that Ty had kept his relationship with Brianna a secret while we were dating, and that little Reese might be his.

I didn't feel so great about myself.

But being here now, hearing what Brianna had been through, made me feel even worse about myself.

“This whole thing has been a nightmare for you, hasn't it?” I said.

“One bad decision during a wild night in Vegas,” Brianna said, shaking her head. “What was I thinking?”

“You must have loved him,” I said, and the words of some of the love poems I'd read in the journal while I'd been waiting in my car floated through my mind.

“At the time, I did,” Brianna said.

“You were young,” I pointed out.

She nodded. “Seems I was the only one who had any loving feelings for Kelvin, thanks to all the scams he pulled. He was only here in Palmdale for a few days and somebody tried to beat him up. I really think Kelvin believed he could get away with anything.”

A few seconds passed before I realized what she'd said.

“When Kelvin came here to get money from you,” I said, “somebody saw him and knew who he was?”

“Kelvin was sure nobody would recognize him. He'd put on some weight, his hair had thinned, and he wasn't dressing in those thousand-dollar suits anymore,” she said. “But some guy at a bar recognized him and confronted him. He said that because Kelvin had screwed his parents out of their life savings, his dad had killed himself and his mom had suffered a heart attack.”

“How awful,” I said.

“I think the guy would have beaten Kelvin to a pulp, but his buddies stopped him,” Brianna said. “Can't blame the guy.”

“Were there others who recognized him?” I asked.

“I don't know, but I wouldn't be surprised,” she said.

It seemed likely to me, too. Kelvin Davis had lived a very flashy lifestyle—at the expense of a lot of hardworking people—and his face had been splashed all over the news media after he was arrested.

“I hate what happened to all of those investors,” Brianna said. “I wish I could do something to help them.”

She had a good heart. It was easy to see why she and Ty had been so close back in the day.

I rose from the sofa. “I'd better go.”

She stood and glanced at her wristwatch. “I'd better get dinner started. Reese has homework tonight.”

We walked across the room together. Brianna opened the door.

“When all of this is settled,” she said, “you and Ty should come up for a visit. We'll have dinner. And I promise you won't have to listen to Ty and me tell our remember-that-time stories all evening.”

“Thanks,” I said.

I couldn't tell her that Ty and I had broken up.

I couldn't say the words.