Wrong Turn (28 page)

‘Yes,’ Lucinda said, giving her the address.‘The area is taped off but if you tell an officer, they’ll find me and I’ll bring Prissy to you.’ Lucinda got busy at the house again, supervising the removal of the Hyundai on a flat bed tow truck. She signed the paperwork, sending it to the forensic garage to be processed under the oversight of an FBI tech. That made her remember how grateful she was that the person in charge of the local federal law enforcement office was Jake Lovett. A lot of the others would have shut her out of the case, leaving her on the sidelines wondering what was happening.

She’d have to remember to let him know how much he meant to her professionally. And what about personally? she thought. Isn’t it about time I let him know how I feel? She pushed that subject firmly out of her mind; she had work to do.

A half hour later, her cell rang. ‘Lieutenant, there’s a woman at the barricade who said you told her to come get her dog.’

‘Keep her there. I’ll be right out,’ Lucinda said. As she walked over to the porch next door, the little dog made excited yips and turned in circles as she bounced up and down. ‘It’s all over now, Prissy,’ she said, scooping her up in her arms.

As she neared the barrier, Helen lurched forward, stopped only by the arm of an officer. ‘Prissy, Prissy, Prissy,’ she cried. ‘Come to Mama, Prissy.’

Lucinda handed over the wriggling gray ball of fur. Helen squeezed her and kissed her face. Prissy licked Helen’s lips, nose, chin and eyes.

‘Eww!’ Helen said. ‘She smells like onions.’

Lucinda laughed. ‘An officer shared his burger with her.’

‘A hamburger? You fed little Prissy a greasy hamburger?’

‘She was hungry, Helen.’

‘Poor little babe-ums,’ Helen said, snuggling her face in Prissy’s fur. ‘Poor little thing. You gonna have an upset tum-tum for days, aren’t you, baby? Nasty old policeman.’

Oh, Jeez, Lucinda thought and turned away from the barrier, shaking her head at Helen’s non-stop string of baby talk. If I treated Chester like that, he’d run away from home.

It was after ten that night before Jake and Lucinda could leave the scene. On the drive home, Lucinda said, ‘I’m not good for anything but sleep tonight but I can offer you a warm, comfy spot beside me and fresh coffee in the morning.’

‘You got a deal,’ Jake said. ‘Just so long as your only expectation is sleep. I’m beat.’

As Lucinda lay in bed, drifting away, she thought about how nice it was to have him lying there beside her.

L
ucinda woke first to find Chester wedged between them with his head on her pillow. She hoisted him up and carried him into the kitchen. She started the coffee brewing and filled Chester’s bowl with dry food and placed a spoonful of tuna feast on his plate.

She fixed two cups of coffee and carried them into the bedroom where Jake still slept deeply. She poked his rump with a toe and then her whole foot while balancing the two mugs in her hand. ‘Sleeping Beauty, arise. Coffee’s served.’

Jake grunted, rubbed his eyes, rolled over and smiled. ‘I could get used to this,’ he said, reaching for the coffee.

‘Don’t think this service in bed establishes a precedent, Mr Special Agent man,’ she said as she smiled and climbed back into bed.

Jake and Lucinda went off to their respective offices to drown in an ocean of paperwork and face scrutiny about the death of Mack Rogers. Jake got dressed down by the wicked witch who made a special trip just to give him a hard time. Lucinda faced Internal Affairs who questioned every decision reached and every move made. Near lunchtime, Lucinda picked up a phone call from Jake.

‘Word is that Martha Sherman is going to be rearrested.’ Jake said.

‘What? On what grounds?’

‘They found one of her credit cards in the excavation of Rogers’ basement graveyard.’

‘So?’

‘Apparently there are those who believe that indicates that she was involved.’

‘You mean Andrew Sherman thinks she was involved.’

‘Well, I also heard that your DA is taking him seriously.’

‘Damn it,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to run.’

‘Lucinda, I don’t know this all for a fact. It’s just what I’ve heard.’

‘Later, Jake,’ she said, disconnecting the call.

She flew up the three flights of stairs to DA Reed’s office. Once again, his door was shut tight. ‘Cindy, am I still barred from his office?’

‘No. Not unless you’ve done something new to get him annoyed.’

‘My breathing annoys him.’

Cindy chuckled. ‘He’s got someone in his office right now and he said he should not be disturbed.’

Lucinda took two steps toward the door.

‘C’mon, lieutenant, you’re putting me in a difficult position.’

Lucinda sighed and dropped her shoulders. ‘OK. Who’s in there with him?’

‘You’re not going to like this . . .’

‘Who is it, Cindy?’

‘Andrew Sherman.’

‘You’re kidding me. Damn it,’ she turned toward the door, stopped, looked at Cindy and stormed out of the office. She went to her desk, grabbed her car keys and tore out of the parking lot. She pulled into the long circular drive leading up to the Shermans’ home. Three stories of brick topped with gables rose up above her. White columns marched across the edge of the porch.

She walked about the steps, smoothed her skirt and rang the doorbell. A woman in a simple green shirt dress answered. ‘Dora Sherman, please.’

‘May I say who’s calling?’

Lucinda whipped out her badge. ‘Lieutenant Lucinda Pierce.’

‘One moment,’ the woman said and shut the door in Lucinda’s face.

She was about to press the doorbell again when the door opened and Dora stood framed behind it. She was a striking woman with carefully coifed jet black hair and unusually brilliant green eyes. Lucinda wondered if they were naturally that color or enhanced by tinted contact lenses.

‘Good day, lieutenant,’ Dora said. ‘I really can’t speak with you without my attorney present. I’ve called and he’s on the way.’

‘Ma’am, if you’re not willing to answer my questions here, then maybe we should go down to the Justice Center and you can wait for your lawyer there.’

‘Don’t be silly, lieutenant. That is so unnecessary. Besides, he’s already on his way to the house. We’ll all be more comfortable here. Marcie, please take this person to the kitchen to wait.’

‘Excuse me?’ Lucinda said with images of film clips running through her mind, where beggars and other undesirables were sent to the back door and into the kitchen to await the pleasure of their betters.

Marcie appeared out of nowhere and snapped, ‘You can’t expect to be treated like an invited guest, miss. This way, please.’

Lucinda looked skyward. ‘Mrs Sherman, I am a public servant but that does not entitle you to banish me to the kitchen as if I am your personal hired help.’

‘Oh, dear, I wasn’t thinking how that might sound. I didn’t mean to be dismissive. Come with me. You can sit in the garden. It’s lovely this time of year.’ Dora led her down a hallway, into a sitting room and out of a pair of French doors. Outside, she gestured to a sitting area on a stone patio. ‘I’ll send cook out with some refreshments.’

‘That won’t be necessary.’

‘Oh, nonsense,’ she said as she went back inside.

A woman in a floral print dress with a white apron tied around her middle stepped out onto the patio. Her graying hair was pulled back in a bun and wrinkles creased beside her merry eyes. ‘What would you like? Coffee, tea, soft drink, beer or something else? I’m sure we’ll have whatever you’d like.’

Feeling perverse, Lucinda decided to ask for something that few people had on hand. ‘How about a diet ginger ale?’

‘No problem,’ she said. ‘Back in a minute.’

After she left, Lucinda thought, I should have asked for a Blackened Voodoo beer – surely she wouldn’t have that in the house. Or maybe some fruity sweet screw-top wine; they’d probably die before allowing a bottle of that to cross the threshold.

The woman returned faster than Lucinda thought she could have reached the kitchen. She set a glass with its fizzing beverage poured over ice on the table and added a bowl of pretzels and another of cashews down beside it. ‘If you need anything else, just press that buzzer and I’ll be here as quickly as I can.’

Lucinda sipped on her drink and nibbled on the nuts as her patience rapidly dwindled away. Finally, she heard the doorbell ring and the sound of a male and female voice in conversation. She reached over and opened the door a bit, hoping to hear what they were saying. ‘Fine, whatever you want, Miss Canterbury. But let me do the talking.’

Miss Canterbury? Lucinda thought. Why is he referring to her by her maiden name? She slouched back in the chair, leaning away from the door.

A tall man in an expensive suit stepped outside with Dora by his side. ‘Miss Canterbury believes that you are here inquiring about Mr Sherman, is that correct?’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘And that your inquiries involve his former wife Martha Sherman?’

‘Correct.’

‘Miss Canterbury wants me to inform you that she is in the process of having divorce papers served on Andrew Sherman. She has a locksmith on his way here to change all the locks on the house.’

‘Is she aware of where her husband is and what he is doing at this moment?’

The attorney turned to Dora. She shook her head. ‘I thought he was at his office.’

‘Actually, he’s at the DA’s office. Plotting the rearrest of Martha Sherman.’

‘I will say that does reinforce Miss Canterbury’s decision to terminate her marriage. She has kept up with developments and Andrew Sherman’s continued persecution of that innocent woman is part of her reason for wanting to dissolve the relationship.’

‘That’s noble. It’s all on principle, then?’

The attorney looked at Dora. ‘Go on,’ Dora said. ‘Don’t be an ass. Tell her the real reasons and ask for her cooperation.’

The lawyer’s face flushed. He nodded his head at his client and turned back to Lucinda. ‘The two issues of most concern to my client is that Andrew Sherman’s actions will put her on the front page of the news, reminding everyone of her poor judgment when she became involved with him while he was still married to Martha. The other thing is that there is a strong possibility that Martha will sue Andrew and Miss Canterbury does not desire to be financially tied to her husband when and if that happens.’

‘So just throw penniless Martha to Andrew and his lions?’

‘On the contrary,’ the lawyer continued. ‘Miss Canterbury accepts her unsavory role in the break-up of Andrew and Martha’s marriage and the fact that she did, unwittingly, enable Andrew’s persecution of an innocent woman. For that reason, she has made a generous settlement offer to Martha in exchange for her agreement not to involve her in any legal clashes Martha has with Andrew in the future.’

He turned from Lucinda and toward his client. ‘Did I leave anything out, Miss Canterbury?’

‘Nothing but a thank you. We would have never known Andrew’s location if not for your information, lieutenant. I appreciate that. We can send the man serving the papers over there. I want this over and done with as soon as possible.’ She extended her hand toward Lucinda, who accepted her firm grasp and returned one of her own.

‘Thank you, ma’am. Thank you for not keeping me in the dark.’

‘One more thing, lieutenant,’ the lawyer said. ‘We would appreciate it if you would keep Miss Canterbury’s name out of the media.’

‘Sir, I have no control over that. I, for one, will not say anything publicly about her, but I cannot control what anyone else does.’

‘As long as you agree not to feed the fire, that will be quite satisfactory. And, just so you know, I plan to deliver a message loud and clear to Andrew Sherman: I am prepared to stretch out any financial settlement connected to the divorce indefinitely as long as he persists in harassing Martha Sherman. We have every reason to believe he will comply since he lost most of his personal wealth because of a few unwise investments – and frittered away a considerable sum of Miss Canterbury’s funds in the same foolish ventures.’

Lucinda smiled as she walked back to her car.

L
ucinda returned to the Justice Center and to DA Reed’s office. Loud voices were bouncing off the walls behind the closed doors. ‘You think that’s something, you should have heard it when the process server arrived,’ Cindy said.

The door flew open, slamming into the wall. A red-faced Andrew Sherman stomped out of the office. He spotted Lucinda and said, ‘And you helped him, too, didn’t you? I’ll get you for this, too.’

What did that mean? Who does he think I helped? Rogers? Lucinda wondered.

‘Ah, Pierce, just who I wanted to see,’ DA Reed said.

Lucinda swung around and glared at him. ‘Oh right, you wanted me to catch you pandering to one of your campaign supporters.’

Reed smiled. ‘And that bothers you?’

‘Have you listened to anything I’ve said?’

‘Actually, I have,’ Reed said.

‘It doesn’t exactly look like it, Reed.’

‘Where have you been in the last few hours?’

‘That’s irrelevant.’

‘Not really,’ he said and then turned to his secretary. ‘Cindy, was the lieutenant aware that Andrew Sherman was in my office this morning?’

Cindy blanched. ‘Well, sir, uh . . .’

‘Yes, I was, Reed,’ Lucinda interrupted.

‘Did you tell anyone else?’

Lucinda ran her tongue across the inside of her lower lip, as she tried to think of a way to evade the question and failed. ‘Yes.’

‘Dora Sherman?’ he asked.

‘She prefers to be called Dora Canterbury now.’

‘Ah ha! I thought it had to be you. He accused me of informing his wife that he was in my office so that she could corner him here and serve the divorce papers. He has, of course, withdrawn his financial support from my re-election campaign. But the funny thing is that the only money Andrew Sherman will probably have after the divorce will likely be tied up in attorney’s fees and the judgment in the civil suit brought by Martha Sherman.’

‘Dora Canterbury’s lawyer said much the same thing.’

‘The divorce removes Andrew Sherman from my base of contributors with big pockets,’ Reed said with a grin. ‘Thus making everything he says and thinks irrelevant to my political future.’