Avenged (15 page)

“When it’s not?”

“Yeah. You and I have both seen women like that, infatuated with someone to the point that even when you show them evidence the person is involved in illegal activity, they don’t believe it.” Carly had seen that a lot during her short time in juvenile. Some parents never wanted to believe their little darling was a crook.

Nick nodded. “Maybe we need to investigate the investigative reporter.”

“And I think it’s something Harris should know.”

“Agreed.” The timer for dinner rang, and Nick looked from Carly to the oven. “Right now I’m starved.”

Carly smiled and gave him a kiss before removing the meat loaf from the oven.

“The second funeral is tomorrow,” Nick said after he’d blessed the meal.

“Diondre’s?” Carly took a bite and swallowed. “Hate to say it, but I’d forgotten he still needed to be laid to rest.”

“You’ve had a lot on your mind.” He smiled, making oohing and aahing noises. “Great dinner.”

“You have to remember to thank Andrea. She went to the market for me and put some stuff in there that I never would have thought of. How are things on the street?”

He shrugged. “Quiet, actually. Londy has been a huge help. They had to raise money to bury D. That’s what took so long. Every chance he’s gotten, he’s been out talking to kids, soothing tempers. Even after he got shot at.” He cocked his head. “He’s a great negotiator.”

“Has Mary Ellen been with him?”

“As a matter of fact, she has. Why do you ask?”

“I think she’s sweet on him.”

His eyebrows arched. “Mary Ellen and Londy?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Didn’t see that coming,” he said with wonder in his voice.

CARLY FEARED
the radio shock jocks would be covering the church grounds. She’d read that they were planning on doing a rally—a “Justice for Dean” rally or some such nonsense. But it turned out her fears were baseless. The crowd at church was simply made up of familiar fellow worshipers, many of whom stepped up to give her a hug and a show of support.

She got the surprise of her life when she saw Sergeant Barrett walking across the parking lot.

“Nick.” She jabbed him with an elbow and pointed.

Nick smiled and moved to greet the man. “Hey, Hal, good to see you here, man.”

Barrett looked surprised and then relieved. “Nick, Carly. I admit I feel a little out of place.”

“No need.” Nick shook his hand. “Want to come sit with us?”

“Uh, sure.”

The three of them entered the church together. Carly’s mother was already inside, and she gave Carly a tight hug. Nick introduced Kay to Barrett and they all took their seats. Carly wanted to ask Barrett if he knew any more about the shooting investigation. But because the service was about to start, she did her best to push all the turmoil from the past few days out of her mind and concentrate on the message. She felt more at rest than she had since being released from the hospital. It was fortifying sitting between Nick and her mother, surrounded by love and listening to Pastor Rawlings.

She’d hoped to see Alex, but Andrea had said he was exhausted, so Carly guessed he opted to stay home and get his dad settled.

Jonah was going through the book of Psalms on Wednesday nights. Carly had forgotten that since work had kept her away from the midweek study recently. It amazed and moved her that he reached Psalm 62 about midway through the message. That was the psalm she’d studied that morning in her devotional.

“‘My victory and honor come from God alone. He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me. O my people, trust in him at all times. Pour out your heart to him, for God is our refuge.’”

Carly read the words of the seventh and eighth verses over again and closed her eyes. She felt a great peace. God
was her refuge. No one could reach through his protection; not even Ginny Masters could knock her down.
If I could just remember.

Barrett left immediately after the service. Carly couldn’t gauge if he’d been moved or not. He had listened and followed along in the Bible. After the message, she wanted to find Jonah and tell him how the message had touched her. She didn’t have to look for him, though; he sought her out, and right behind him was a trim, dark-haired woman Carly didn’t know.

Jonah shook Nick’s hand and gave Carly a hug. “How are you doing?” he asked, his face crinkled with concern.

“I’m good. Psalm 62 says it all.” She went on to tell him what a coincidence it was that she’d read the psalm earlier that morning.

He laughed. “I don’t believe in coincidences. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” He then gestured to the woman who’d followed him over. “Carly, Nick, I’d like you to meet Pam Sailor.”

After they’d said their hellos, Jonah turned to Carly. “This is the woman I told you about. I was hoping you could speak to her.”

Carly looked at Nick. “I have to find Londy and talk to him about the funeral tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll meet you in Heavenly Grounds.”

He left and Carly turned to Pam. “Want to get some coffee or tea?”

She shook her head. “No thanks. But maybe we can find a place to sit.”

The church had finished construction on a beautiful fellowship hall last year. It had a kitchen, a large area for tables and gatherings, a coffee shop and espresso bar named Heavenly Grounds, and a bookstore. Carly and Pam walked together to the coffee shop. If this had been a Sunday, the place would have been packed, but crowds were always smaller at midweek. They found a table right away.

“I want to thank you for talking to me, Officer Anderson.”

“It’s Carly, and it’s no problem. I hope I can help.”

Pam lowered her head and studied her hands. “I’m sure you know that my husband committed suicide last week.” She looked up and Carly nodded. “Well, at first I thought it was all a mistake, that my husband wouldn’t kill himself.” She paused. “I was probably like the woman who’s been cheated on—you know, in denial that my husband would ever cheat.”

She turned away for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice dripped with biting sarcasm. “‘My husband would never kill himself; he had so much to live for. . . .’ Yeah, right. He had a lot of secrets to keep hidden. All the secrets are out in the open now that he’s gone.”

“I’m sorry. Was he having an affair?”

She shook her head violently. “If that’s all it was, I could live with it. No, Keith wasn’t having an affair. We’d been in business for fifteen years, started the catering outfit out of our own kitchen. And we built a big, strong business. At least I thought we had.” She sighed deeply and rubbed her brow with two fingers. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m rambling.”

“No, take your time. I can’t imagine having to deal with what you’re dealing with right now.”

Pam hesitated before continuing. “You see, Keith had a passion for gambling that I knew nothing about. He was in debt—no,
we
were in debt to the tune of about a quarter of a million dollars. I didn’t know that. I also didn’t know that Keith had taken a loan out on the business. I was stupid enough to leave all the money matters to him. I’m the cook and planner.” She stopped for a moment, then went on.

“He signed on a partner in order to have the money to keep the business rolling through the bridge dedication ceremony. Here I’ve been working myself to the bone to prepare for the biggest catering job we ever landed and . . .” Her voice broke.

Carly reached out, but Pam waved her away. “No, I need to finish. Argh, you think you’re numb and that you’ve cried all the tears you can cry, and then they suddenly grab you by the throat.” She composed herself and blew her nose.

Carly knew exactly how Pam felt. She waited patiently.

“Keith not only took a partner; he sold the business right out from under us. It seems the moneyman who bailed him out accepted the business as collateral. When Keith died, the business reverted to this man. I have nothing. I can stay and be an employee, but the business is no longer mine.”

Carly’s chest felt tight. Her problems faded away in comparison to the pain of the woman in front of her. “I’m so sorry. And you’re sure it’s legal? I mean, have you had a lawyer look at it?”

“It’s legal. My lawyer says it is.”

“How can I help?”

“This man—the man with the funds—his name is Michael Carter. All I want—”

“Michael Carter?”
Carly stared at Pam Sailor.

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“No, but I’ve heard the name a lot lately. What do you know about him?”

“Nothing. All I want to do is talk to him, but he won’t return my calls. I fired my lawyer because not only do I not have the money to keep him on, but he helped Keith with the paperwork behind my back. Look, I know there’s probably nothing you can do, but I just want to find out if we can work something out so I can get the business back. Sailor’s Catering was my life. Is there any way you can ask him to talk to me?”

Carly looked into pain-filled eyes. It wasn’t the oddest request she’d ever gotten. There were people in the world who thought the police could solve any problem. And when they were desperate, the lines between criminal problems and civil problems blurred. This was definitely a civil problem, not a police problem. But she couldn’t tell Pam Sailor that right now. Neither could she tell her that this elusive man by the name of Michael Carter was someone a lot of people wanted to talk to.

What she did say was, “All I can do is ask him to talk to you. I can’t force him.”

Relief flooded Pam’s face. “Thank you.” She opened her
purse and slid a business card across the table. “This is the only number I have for him. I’ve left several voice mails, but he never calls me back. A man calling himself Carter’s assistant has spoken to me, firming up the plans we have for the bridge dedication, but that’s it.”

“The bridge dedication?”

“Yes, the assistant says that Mr. Carter is anxious to be certain everything is perfect for that event.”

Carly looked at the card. It was a cheap white card with black printing on it, just
Michael Carter
and a phone number. Odd, inexpensive choice for a supposed moneyman.

As Nick walked up, Carly promised Pam she’d call the number in the morning. Pam asked Carly to let her know what she learned and thanked her again.

“What was that about?” Nick sat, and they watched Pam leave the fellowship hall.

Carly held up the card.

“What?” Nick took it and studied it. “She knows him?”

“No, but he bought her business.” She told Nick about Sailor’s Catering and the suicide of Keith Sailor.

He frowned and rubbed his chin with his hand. “What is going on?”

CARLY WANTED TO TALK TO NICK,
but he was at work. He’d relayed what Pam Sailor had explained about Michael Carter to the ATF agents since they had the resources to track the man down.

When he’d gone to see Barton in prison, Carter had signed the visiting log with an Arizona driver’s license. A little digging into the catering business purchase uncovered the same address as his ID. The phone number on the business card belonged to an untraceable burner phone. There was no California identification for the man.

Nick also promised to dig deeper into the shooting investigation at work that day.

As self-pity began to envelop her, Carly knew she had
to do something to stop it. Nick always said that when the negative began to pile up, concentrate on the positive. She stood to pace and do just that.

The worst of her soreness had faded, and she wanted to be at work—or at the very least out defending her reputation, not stuck in the house.

When the phone rang and she saw a work extension, she nearly let it go to voice mail. But she needed a distraction, any distraction. It was Captain Jacobs calling to see how she was doing.

“I still can’t remember.”

“Relax, Trouble. I’m sure it will come back. I wanted to see how you were doing and to ask you a favor.”

“I . . . umm, I’m fine. Considering everything going on right now, I’m okay. What can I do for you?”

“Come in and talk to the department psychologist. She may help with your memory issue. I’m not going to order you. But I’d like you to do it. Charlotte Linder is light-years ahead of Floyd Guest. I’m certain she’ll help you.”

Carly hesitated before agreeing to see Linder that afternoon. In the end she trusted Jake and understood what he was saying about Guest. The old department psychologist had been a partner in the corruption that resulted in the previous mayor’s murder. He’d tried to kidnap Carly from the hospital. Linder wouldn’t have to do much to be an improvement.

After speaking with Jacobs, Carly debated calling Trejo but wasn’t certain about the situation with his father. The
phone rang before she’d decided. An unfamiliar work extension this time.

“Officer Edwards?” It was internal affairs.

“Um . . . hello.”

“I’m calling to see if you can come into the office for an interview today at 1 p.m.”

“Is this about the shooting?” Carly frowned. There’d been no shooting board.

“No. This is about a citizen’s complaint. It’s simply a routine interview.”

Carly sighed and began fiddling with a pen, tapping it on the table in front of her, remembering that the POA president had told her to hold off on interviews until she was cleared of the head injury. But this was in-house, not the feds.
And I have nothing to hide,
she thought with a stamp of her foot.

“Yes, I’ll be there.”

Ending the call, she knew she needed to get out of the house. Carly pocketed her cell phone, grabbed the dog’s leash, and headed for Dog Beach with Maddie. Reporters or no, she couldn’t hang out in the house for two and a half hours until it was time to leave for IA. She’d climb the walls. What she really wanted to do was jump into her swimsuit and swim without stopping for a few thousand meters before surfacing to face the world. But Nick had expressly requested that she not swim by herself until the doctor cleared her. As much as she wanted to argue with him, she had to admit it wasn’t an unreasonable request. So she’d just play fetch with Maddie for a bit.

She and Maddie were a block from the beach when her cell phone chimed with a call from Alex.

“I was going to come by. Where are you? At home?”

“On my way to Dog Beach. Meet me down there?”

“Sure.”

She and Maddie had been in the sand for a few minutes when Alex showed up. He opened his arms and gave Carly a hug. As he apologized for what was happening, Carly fought to keep her composure.

“It’s not your fault, Alex. You have your hands full. I’m sorry about your mom. How’s your dad doing?”

Alex shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down before meeting Carly’s gaze. “He’s a broken man. My mom doted on him for over forty years and he treated her badly. Now he’s all remorse and regret. Says he loved her but never told her. It’s eating him up.”

“You can’t ever go back.”

“No. But enough about my problems. I do feel responsible for yours. You know that Masters has hired a publicist? She’s trying to get spots on all the big national news programs.” He kicked a pile of sand. “I hate to say it, but people are nibbling and it’s just making her more aggressive.”

Carly took a deep breath and tossed a stick for Maddie. It was a struggle not to give in to all the negative emotions she felt. “What do you know about her? How’d she hook up with Duncan Potter?”

“I know you don’t like Potter and his motives bug you,
but he takes great pictures. Everyone wants his work. As for Masters, she fancies herself the next Katie Couric, and she’ll do whatever it takes to get herself there.”

“Do you know anything about where she was before she was hired by the
Times
?” Carly outlined what Ned had told her about Virginia Masterson.

Alex frowned and rubbed his chin. “I knew she was from out of state, but I only paid attention to what she did at the
Times
. They liked her work, or at least they said they did. She was let go because of layoffs. Last hired, first fired—that kind of thing.”

“How long has she been in California?”

“She’s been with us for six months, and I think she was with the
Times
for at least a year.” He stopped. “You’re not getting paranoid on me, are you? Do you think there’s more going on here than a dead parolee?”

“I don’t know, Alex. All I know is that I did nothing wrong—nothing. And she’s trying to make me sound like Drake or Tucker. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, but the FBI might be listening to her.”

“They’re just being polite.”

Carly snorted.

He reached out and gripped her shoulder. “I know things are bad right now, and I want to help.”

“I’m not sure what you can do. I’m off at least until I see the occupational health guy on Monday. The feds are in on the shooting investigation, and I have to talk to internal affairs today.”

He put an arm on her shoulder as they strolled down the beach, and Carly felt the comfort of a friend.

“Are they going to suspend you?” he asked.

“The investigation is ongoing, so no, I don’t think so. I think it’s just routine. But then I don’t know how much political pressure is building. Mayor Hardy was elected because he promised a scandal-free city. And then, of course, there’s the Burke trial.”

His face scrunched with worry. “Brace yourself. Scuttlebutt in the newsroom is that there’s a lot of pressure building. Masters seems to have her finger on the pulse and she’s exploiting that. Something may come up about the trial.”

“I was afraid of that. Which brings me back to the big question: why me?” She stopped and turned to face Alex, hands on her hips.

He tossed another stick for Maddie. “You’re a name. Let’s face it—everyone in Las Playas has read about your work. By just doing your job, you made national news. You already brought up the trial. And next week you’ll be honored at the bridge dedication. Masters saw you as a target; if she can topple you, think how much news that would make. And how many job offers she could conceivably generate.”

“So this is all about her career?”

“From what I’ve seen, everything is about her. Now, about this Barton guy. I can only tell you what the newsroom gossip is. The more I think of it, this fits with what Ned told you. Masters seemed to indicate she had this long-distance
relationship with him that only became a close physical relationship a month ago—”

“A month ago? He told officers the first night I saw him that he’d been out a month but had only just gotten into town.”

Alex shrugged. “An ex-con lied to the police—imagine that. Masters said when she met him, it was love at first sight but they weren’t able to be together. It wouldn’t surprise me if she was one of those sick women who falls for someone behind bars and becomes a pen pal and that was their long-distance relationship.”

“Ned said he thought they met when Dean first got arrested. She went from reporter to groupie to girlfriend, I guess, in six years.” Carly rubbed her hands together. “While I’m certain Barton was behind the shooting and guns, do you think she has any connection at all to that?”

“I wouldn’t put anything past her. She’s a climber.”

Carly said nothing and they started back the other way down the beach.

“I really do want to help,” Alex said. “I can be the anti-Masters. Tell me what happened that night.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t remember the most important part.” Carly told Alex what she could recall up to the point where she saw Barton grinning at her.

“Is it possible your gun went off when you fell and it was just dumb luck the bullet hit him?”

Carly wrapped and unwrapped Maddie’s leash around her wrist. She didn’t tell Alex about the GSR. Homicide was trying to prove or disprove something with that; she could only
speculate. “I don’t know. I was in a haze when they took me to the hospital, so I didn’t get a good look at the spot I fell from. But Barton was hit in the center of his forehead. If I’m falling down . . .” She stopped and tried to envision falling with her gun in her hand. “I guess it’s possible. I just don’t know for sure.”

Alex shook his head and frowned. “I wonder if I could get in there and take a look at the scene.”

“I doubt it. It’s probably still sealed. Jacobs mentioned that the construction company was going to do a thorough inventory.”

“I heard that the contractor is having a cow about how far behind that will put the restaurant opening.”

They’d reached the walkway leading up and out of the beach. Carly unraveled the leash she’d been fiddling with and bent down to hook it to Maddie’s collar. “You’ve already tried to get in, huh?”

Alex smiled. “I really mean it when I say I want to help. Let me ask you this—are you sure Barton was grinning at you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you don’t think he wasn’t there by himself, right?”

Carly nodded and Alex continued. “Suppose he was grinning because he knew something you didn’t? Maybe that you were outnumbered in there?”

Carly brought a hand to her forehead, trying to picture Barton’s face in her mind. What had he been so gleeful about? “But even if there was someone else there—someone who
was working with Barton—they had the advantage. They could have just killed me.”

“Maybe Barton irritated more people than just you. Maybe the man who pulled the trigger was in the restaurant and he wanted to sever the partnership with Barton and saw the perfect opportunity to frame you.”

They’d reached Alex’s car. Carly looked at him and arched an eyebrow. “Maybe you read too many novels. I do know he was working with at least one other person, maybe two. I saw him with someone, and he told Ned he had a partner.” She told Alex about Michael Carter. “And someone did lock the gate behind me, which slowed down my backup. But I’d need to know more about what Barton and his buddies were doing at the old marina.”

He folded his arms and leaned against the side of his car, cocking his head to the side. “Boy, I go away for a little bit and this whole city falls apart. Wild parolees, gang wars—what’s next?”

“I hope truth and closure. You know, before this happened, when Barton was implicated in the stolen guns, Nick and I sat down and tried to figure out what was going on.”

“You mean with the gang shooting?”

“We’re not sure it was a gang shooting. We think Barton was trying to instigate a war, but we don’t know why.”

“I haven’t had a chance to review everything. If I’d been here, I would have been covering everything. As it is, I have to go by what’s been published.”

“We were thinking it had something to do with the
Ninjas—Londy specifically. He was shot at and he used to be a Ninja.”

“Maybe Barton’s partner had a beef with the Ninjas?”

Carly shrugged. “Not sure. We were hoping Barton would answer questions and fill in the blanks. I didn’t want him dead.” She shook her head in an attempt to shake away her uneasy feeling. “I have to get going. Thanks, Alex, for being a friend.”

“No problem. But you still haven’t told me how I can help you the most.”

“I don’t know.” She turned to leave and then stopped. “Maybe if I knew for certain why Masters hates me.”

“I’ll find out everything I can about her,” Alex promised. “And . . .”

“And what?”

“This mysterious Michael Carter has piqued my curiosity.”

“The feds will find out about him soon, I’m certain.”

“So you say. One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think Londy and the Ninjas are the only targets. Something tells me Officer Carly Edwards fits into that equation as well. Watch yourself.”