Bad Karma (29 page)

When Susan came back she had a package for Shannon from the university. Inside was Taylor Carver’s thesis. Shannon spent the afternoon reading it. The thesis was written as a fictional novel with an English Masters major named Culver as the protagonist. The “hero” hooks up with a beautiful but screwed-up freshman who was sexually abused by her father for years. Culver later befriends an out-of-work Indian chemical engineer. Over beers they cook up a scheme to have this chemical engineer start a cult which they’ll fund by making ‘voyeur’ porn films using the cult’s brainwashed members and Culver’s girlfriend, who Culver is able to manipulate by playing to her low self-esteem and her pathological need to degrade herself. In this fictional account, they end up opening hundreds of yoga studios in shopping centers around the country to fund the cult’s operations and line their own pockets, at which point Culver publishes a book detailing all this, making a mockery of suburban America and its bourgeoisie culture. The tone of the book was cruel and smarmy, and gave Shannon a good impression of what Carver was all about—a heartless sonofabitch who got off on showing the world how superior he was to everyone else. It also confirmed his thoughts about Linda Gibson. She had no chance in life, not after the way her parents abused her both sexually and emotionally. It left her too vulnerable to a predator like Carver. When he was done reading the thesis he had the urge to load himself up with more morphine, but resisted it. He knew if Paveeth had gotten his hands on Carver’s thesis, he’d have a good motive for wanting Carver dead. It could very well explain why Carver and Gibson were butchered the way they were.

That evening Eli came by for another visit, and later Emily stopped by. Her head was bandaged up, and she stood hands on hips, shaking her head sadly at Shannon.

“A couple of geniuses we are,” she said. “Let ourselves be banged up and shot at by a couple of dumb thugs.”

Shannon couldn’t disagree with her. That night he had the nurse disconnect his morphine drip. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” she tried telling him. “It’s too early for this.” Shannon told her he wanted to wean himself off of it sooner rather than later. He had a mostly restless night, but was able to doze off for several hours.

Pauline Cousins called him on his cell phone the next morning. She seemed genuinely surprised to hear that he was in the hospital. “Nobody I’ve been talking to at the Boulder Police mentioned a word to me about it,” she said. “I would’ve called you sooner but I’ve been running around like crazy the last two days trying to arrange for Melissa’s transfer.”

She stopped by shortly after her call, her face melting into a sad smile when she saw Shannon bandaged up. “I owe you so much for what you did for Melissa,” she told him. She took out her checkbook and asked how much he wanted. Shannon shook his head, told her that one of the perks of working for himself was being able to take on certain cases pro bono. “Besides, what happened at True Light intersected with another case which I’m being well paid for.” Pauline stood her ground, insisting that she pay him something, and Shannon suggested she could contribute to a fund for families of police officers killed in the line of duty that he’d set up in Joe DiGrazia’s memory. Without blinking an eye she wrote out a check for ten thousand dollars. On her way out she kissed Shannon on the cheek and told Susan that she had a good man.

“Don’t I know it,” Susan said.

After she left, Shannon realized he owed Devens a call. The lawyer seemed surprised to hear what Shannon was telling him. “There’s been nothing in the news about it,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Better than okay,” Shannon said, laughing sourly. “Already been pumped up with a fresh supply of blood and should be getting a new shoulder out of the deal.”

Devens’ voice sounded strained as he told Shannon he’d stop by at the hospital and talk further with him. “But that’s it, huh?” he asked. “The police are going to arrest this cult leader for the Carver-Gibson murders?”

“That’s what it sounds like.”

When he got off the phone, he lay brooding. Susan sensed his uneasiness. She kissed him hard on the mouth and told him she’d be back soon. While he waited Devens came by. The lawyer grimaced seeing him. “Christ, you look like hell,” he said, shaking hands with Shannon’s left undamaged one.

“Hearing compliments like that does wonders for one spirits.”

“I’m sure it does.” Devens pulled up a chair. “I talked with my assistant DA friend. They’re planning to give a press conference Friday night to fill in the media on what’s been going on at that cult. They’re going to leave Carver and Gibson out of it for the time being. As long as this Anil Paveeth is cooperating with them they want to give the illusion of not trying to tie him to the murders, but they do plan on charging him soon. This should put a stake in the heart of that lawsuit.” Devens took his wallet out and handed Shannon a check. It was for twenty-five thousand dollars. “I’ve explained the situation to my client and everything that you’ve done. He wants to pay you this as a bonus. This suit could’ve wiped him out, and anyway, the twenty-five grand was what he was expecting to pay in legal costs if this went to trial. At least it should help while you’re rehabbing.” Devens took a small gift-wrapped box out of his briefcase and left it on the table next to the bed. “A small gesture from me.”

The lawyer left. Shannon couldn’t help feeling a sense of uneasiness, as if something wasn’t quite right. He looked at the gift-wrapped box Devens had left behind. Even something as simple as opening that box was beyond his current capabilities, but he knew that wasn’t what was behind his uneasiness. He wasn’t feeling sorry for himself. There was something else nagging at him. Something that didn’t quite fit with this Carver-Gibson-Paveeth puzzle.

Susan came back a short time later with a big grin across her face. Accompanying her was Eddie with his chess set. Eddie gave him a quick look up and down and asked what happened to his shoulder.

“I got shot.”

“By that cult you were asking about?”

“Yeah.”

“You on painkillers now?”

“Nope, off of them.”

“Good, you got no excuses then if you lose.”

They played five games with Shannon winning the first four, and the fifth ending in a draw. Eddie was beaming after the fifth game, taking the draw as a moral victory. After the games, Shannon told Eddie that the girl he’d been looking for was probably dead. “I’ll get a picture and see if you can ID her, but I think they caught up to her.” Eddie’s face darkened as he took in the news. “Boulder’s not the same town it used to be,” he said.

After Eddie left, Susan unwrapped the box Devens had left behind. It was one of his Navajo storytellers. Shannon couldn’t get over the feeling that the clay figurine was trying to tell him something.

***

Wednesday morning Shannon decided it was time to leave the hospital. Susan tried arguing with him that three days was too soon. “Hon, they want you here three weeks!”

Shannon was insistent, though—partly because of his uneasiness, but mostly because he didn’t want Susan cooped up in that hospital room any longer, and she wasn’t going to leave as long as he was there. One of the doctors tried to persuade him to stay longer, saw it was useless and instead worked out an arrangement for Shannon to come in each day to have his shoulder examined and his dressing changed. The doctor wrote him a prescription for Oxycontin, which Shannon tossed into the garbage on his way out.

Chapter 16

Daniels escorted Shannon to the interrogation room. Sitting around the table was Anil Paveeth, his lawyer, the DA of Boulder County and a couple of men who Shannon assumed were FBI. Paveeth with his bruised face and jail-issued denim clothing looked small sitting there and had lost all traces of the aura he’d had when Shannon first saw him in his private sanctuary. He also had the look of every scared con who was trying to cut himself a deal. When the ex-cult leader recognized Shannon he started to nod as if the two of them were close friends. Daniels asked his lawyer whether he had any problem with Shannon sitting in. The lawyer traded a few whispers with his client, then said it was okay with them. Daniels shook his head sadly at Paveeth, and said, “Anil, I know you’re saying that you want to cooperate, but I don’t think you’re being completely honest with us.”

“Where have I not been honest? I have told you everything I know.”

Daniels gave him a hard stare, then ignored him and signaled for the DA and FBI agents to join him outside, leaving Shannon alone with Paveeth and his lawyer.

Paveeth sat fidgeting in his chair, scratching himself as if he had fleas. He realized that and folded his hands in his lap. He tried smiling at Shannon. “I-I’m sorry about that woman,” he said, his eyes hopeful as if he were expecting Shannon to say something to let him off the hook for what had happened. When Shannon didn’t respond, Paveeth wilted more in his chair but went on, “There was nothing I could do to help her. Yuri and Dmitry demanded that I videotape what they were doing. I was helpless to go against them. If I did they would have killed me.”

“That would’ve been a shame. What were Yuri and Dmitry’s last names?”

Paveeth smiled apologetically. “I don’t know. I was never told that. Taylor found them.”

Shannon looked hard at Paveeth, then at his lawyer. “Have you had a chance yet to see the videos your client made?” he asked the lawyer.

“I don’t see how that is being helpful to the current situation,” the lawyer replied, clearing his throat.

The door opened and Daniels followed the DA and FBI agents into the room. He dropped a thick document on the table and stood shaking his head sadly at Paveeth. The ex-cult leader glanced at the document and watched Daniels with wide eyes.

“Anil, you’re not cooperating with us as promised.”

“I am so! How am I not cooperating?”

Daniels turned to Shannon. “Bill, do you think Anil’s been cooperating with us?”

“Not if he hasn’t told you about Carver and Gibson.”

“What about Taylor and Linda?” Paveeth broke in. “I’ve told you all about them!”

“Calm down, Anil,” his lawyer advised. He patted his client on the alarm. Paveeth was beside himself as he looked from Shannon to Daniels. “What haven’t I told you?” he demanded.

“Your motive for killing them,” Daniels said.

“Killing them? What are you talking about? Why would I want to kill Taylor?”

His lawyer stopped him, then mustered an indignant scowl as he turned on Daniels. “Where the hell’s this coming from? I thought we were here to discuss what happened at True Light!”

“I thought so too until we found out that your client had a strong motive for killing Taylor Carver.” Daniels picked up Carver’s thesis and opened it to near the end. He pointed out several highlighted passages for Paveeth’s lawyer to read.

“What the hell am I supposed to be reading?”

“A blueprint for everything that happened at True Light,” Daniels said.

“What are they talking about?” Paveeth asked his lawyer. “I never saw that document!”

The lawyer read the highlighted passages, then thumbed through the rest of the manuscript. “You must be kidding,” he said to Daniels.

“What is that document?” Paveeth demanded, his skin color paling to a muddled gray.

“It looks like a book your friend Taylor wrote,” the lawyer said.

“It explains how he was going to expose you,” Daniels said. “You got your hands on a copy, didn’t you, Anil? Is that why you sent Yuri and Dmitry to Taylor’s apartment?”

“Th-This is insane!” Paveeth sputtered. “I knew n-nothing about this book! And I never would’ve hurt Taylor. If Yuri and Dmitry went to their apartment, they did it without me knowing about it.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Shannon said. “After all, you like to sit in the corner and watch.”

Paveeth’s jaw dropped. He turned wildly from Shannon to Daniels to his lawyer. His lawyer held out a hand in a stop gesture to Daniels. “We’re done here,” he said. “We’re not going to give you any more chances to sandbag us.”

The DA spoke up then. “Among the other charges we’ve already discussed, we’re adding first degree murder charges for the deaths of Taylor Carver, Linda Gibson, Jane Lowenstein, Leslie Bishop and Candace Johnson. And rest assured that we will be seeking the death penalty.”

“This is ridiculous,” Paveeth’s lawyer argued. “We’re talking about a book, for God sake! And those other women—we’ve already explained how my client had no knowledge–”

“Save it,” the DA said. “I’ve got more than enough circumstantial evidence to convict on all charges. And if I were you I wouldn’t expect a break from a jury. I doubt one exists that could find your client sympathetic.”

Daniels opened the door and a couple of uniformed officers came in and had Paveeth stand while they cuffed his hands behind his back. As they took him from the room, he staggered like a fighter who’d been knocked out on his feet and had no clue where he was. His lawyer followed him out.

The DA stood up, shook Shannon’s undamaged hand and thanked him for what he had done. “I hear you’re the guy who cracked this wide open. I’m going to see if my office can do something for you.” One of the FBI agents nodded to Shannon on his way out, the other stopped to shake his hand also. “I’ve read the Charlie Winters’ case file. Very impressive work, very impressive here also. If you have any thoughts on joining the FBI, give me a call.” The agent handed him his card, and Shannon saw that he was a regional director. He told him he’d give it some thought. After the FBI director walked out, Daniels and Shannon were left alone in the room. Daniels gave Shannon a hard grin. “You’re not actually thinking of joining them?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve gotten used to not wearing a suit the last five years.”

“As a detective first grade, you could dress as casually as you’d like.”

“Is that an offer?”

“Well, no, I can’t make an offer, but I could certainly talk to my boss about you. We could use someone like you in the department.”

Shannon pointed to his right hand. “Problem is, I’m still disabled.”

“We could work around it. So what do you say? You want me to talk to my boss?”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ve got nine to twelve months to think about it. Let me tell you then.”

“But the answer’s going to turn out no, huh?”

“I can’t tell you right now. We’ll see.”

The two men walked quietly through the station and to the adjoining parking lot so that Daniels could drive Shannon back to his apartment. Neither man spoke during the ride, Shannon deep in thought, Daniels suspiciously glancing over at his passenger every few minutes as he drove. By the time he pulled up to Shannon’s apartment building, he had lost all patience.

“Alright, spill it,” he demanded. “What the hell’s on your mind? You’re going to try to tell me that Paveeth didn’t kill those two students? Is that what the fuck’s going on?”

Shannon shook his head. “Something just doesn’t add up.”

“Goddamn it, Bill! We’ve got the sonofabitch dead to rights. The guy’s a manipulator, he can put on a good act and play the innocent victim when he wants to, but he’s the guy behind all this. He didn’t know about Carver’s plans? My ass he didn’t!”

Shannon waved it away. “This is probably nothing more than the last couple of days catching up to me. You ever have that incense analyzed?”

“FBI’s doing it now. According to our buddy, Paveeth, he did doctor the incense and add a mild hallucinogenic, along with mixing in his own sweat—I guess for the pheromones. We’ll see if the FBI finds anything else.”

Shannon left the car and gave Daniels a short nod. Susan was waiting for him in the apartment. Concern showed in her eyes as she asked how his shoulder was. She had him take off his shirt so she could check to see if the wound had started bleeding.

The apartment was for the most back to where it had been. The landlord had already patched the wall by the closet and repainted the living room, while Daniels had recovered his computer for him from the True Light compound and Susan had placed a small throw rug over Emily’s blood stain. That night they heard on the news that Les Hasherford had been found dead in a Colorado Springs motel. According to the medical examiner he’d been dead for several days with the cause of death apparently being heart failure. The maid went three days without touching his room because of a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door. The story reported how Hasherford had helped police only a few days earlier locate a missing boy who was in critical condition at the time he was found, but had since recovered from a head trauma and been released from the hospital. A police spokesman credited Hasherford with saving the boy’s life

Shannon could see that the story affected Susan, but she had already cried herself out over the last few days. That night she held him tightly, and at times he could feel her small body sobbing silently and tearlessly.

The next couple of days dragged by slowly for him. He tried reading the PI novels Maguire had left him, and while he agreed with Maguire’s assessment of them, there was something nagging at the back of his mind that kept him from fully appreciating them. Susan sensed something was bothering him, just as he could sense her sadness over Les Hasherford’s death. They tried to comfort each other, but there was a small hole in both of them that they couldn’t quite fix.

Eric Wilson called him Thursday afternoon from Wichita to tell him that French officials had spoken with Linda’s younger sister, Gloria, and that Fred Gibson had been arrested earlier that day for child abuse and rape. Wilson seemed relieved when Shannon was able to tell him that an arrest was pending for Linda Gibson’s murder. “Do you think they have the right guy?” Wilson asked.  “I hope so,” Shannon said, but his words sounded hollow to him.

Kathleen Tirroza called him that same night. She’d heard through the FBI grapevine what had happened and wanted to make sure he was okay. “Once again, right in the middle of it. Damn, you’ve got more lives than a cat!” she said, sounding a bit drunk. Her comment brought an involuntary smile to his lips since Kathleen, with her almond-shaped eyes and slender athletic body, always reminded him of a cat. “Yeah, but I think they’re being used up,” he told her. “And I keep leaving little pieces of me behind with each one.” That sobered her up. She asked him to save one of his lives for September 27th so he could drink a toast at her wedding. Before hanging up, she mentioned that she had no luck identifying his Russian. “If his records exist, they’ve been moved to classified files I don’t have access to.”

Friday morning he met Eli at
Juiced Up
. His shoulder felt well enough for him to walk the five blocks from his apartment without too much discomfort. When he sat down across from his friend, Eli gave him a quick look and mentioned how it would be understandable if he were suffering from depression after what he had gone through.

“I’d have to think seeing Susan tied up like that would’ve flashed you back to Charlie Winters. And you were almost killed. That’s got to be a tough thing to come to grips with.” He hesitated, then added, “Bill, even though it was in self-defense, you still killed two men. Maybe you should consider counseling?”

“About killing those two thugs, I’d feel worse right now if it had been two rats. The world’s better off without them, and I’m fine with what I did. As for Susan, yeah, it affected me seeing her like that, but I can deal with it. I know she’s safe now, and I know that I can get past my anxiety about her being harmed.”

“What is it then?”

Shannon shrugged. “It doesn’t add up that Paveeth was involved in killing those two students,” he said. “And I can’t figure out a way to make it add up. He knew about the hidden video camera. He wouldn’t have left that tape behind—not with the chance of it showing one of his cult members performing on it. I can’t imagine him leaving thirteen thousand dollars behind either.”

“Maybe he didn’t know about the money hidden in the other speaker,” Eli said.

“He’d know something was hidden in it. No, I just can’t see this. Whoever went to the apartment—him or the Russians, they would’ve cleaned out what was in those two speaker cases.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Paveeth’s going to get the death penalty for those three snuff films regardless of whether he gets convicted of killing Carver and Linda Gibson. I could just let it rest.”

“You could. But then whoever killed those two students would get a free pass.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t feel that bad about Carver.”

“But what about the other one?”

A weariness set in around Shannon’s eyes. He shrugged weakly. “I guess I’m going to have to start over from square one and see what I’ve missed.”

***

Later that afternoon Shannon had a fight with Susan about driving by himself. She was absolutely furious with him.

“How can you do that, Bill? How are you going to control the wheel with one hand? And what if your stitches rip open? Why don’t you let me drive you?”

“I can’t. Not where I’m going. Susie, everything’s going to be fine. We’re both on edge right now, that’s all.”

She stood staring at him, her mouth moving as if she were chewing gum. “Do what you want,” she said at last. “I already had to think once this week about going to your funeral. I can’t deal with that again. If you make me, that’s it, we’re through.”

She left the room. Shannon stood frozen for several long minutes, then took his car keys and headed out to Loveland.

***

Both Randall Carver and Buttercup were waiting outside the house for him. Buttercup was on her back with her legs in the air while Randall scratched her belly with the toe of his boot. When Shannon pulled up, Buttercup stayed frozen in her position for a few moments, then sniffed in the air, sneezed and flipped herself onto her feet. She stared at Shannon through yellow eyes, but didn’t make a sound. Randall walked over to his car.