Checkmate (Caitlin Calloway Mystery Book 2) (16 page)

Stevie legally changed her last name to Calloway when she turned eighteen. Graduated from UMass, Boston, with honors. Worked for Lotus, MIT, and Comtrel before opening her own web design business. Lived with a Katrina Wilson for four years. One child, Emma Liza Quinn. Shared ownership of her home with her sister and sister in-law. Paid her bills on time, no outstanding parking or speeding tickets. Stevie Calloway was a model citizen. And in Val’s humble opinion completely hot. Val tried to shrug off her attraction; she had a job to do.

“I hope I find your sick-o father soon.” Val leered at Stevie’s RMV photo. “You, I’d like to get to know better.” She yawned.

“Time for bed,” she said out loud. Another bad habit she had begun over the past few years: spending so much time alone in hotel rooms, she started talking to herself. That and seeing how long it took to find some incarnation of
Law and Order
on television.

“I swear a woman never designed a hotel bathroom,” she complained. “Really, I need to stop talking to myself. Maybe when this mess is cleaned up, I’ll take that vacation I’m supposed to be on.” She caught her reflection in the mirror. “Damn, I’m tired.” She shook her head. She was still speaking out loud.

Chapter 16

Elizabeth Pryce was already awake before the old-fashioned alarm clock loudly clanged its bells. She gazed out the window. Cold and misty. She smiled. She loved everything about San Francisco; it possessed a charm she had failed to find anywhere else. Almost two decades ago, she and her college roommate had discovered the bay area when they took an impromptu road trip from Santa Barbara to San Francisco. It had been an awakening for both of them.

She fell in love with San Francisco almost as easily as she fell in love with her roommate, In college, she discovered freedom, books, and the first love of her life. Janie had opened her eyes to who she was and what she wanted out of life. Janie was everything to her. The day Janie told her that she loved her was probably the happiest day in her life.

Then just as suddenly Janie was gone. Not the usual way your first love walks out. Janie went home for the winter break. She promised Elizabeth before she left that she was going to break up with her boyfriend. The night before she was to return to campus, Janie called her. Simon was history, and they were about to begin their lives together. It would be the last time Elizabeth would hear Janie’s voice. Janie never completed the two-hundred-sixteen-mile drive from San Diego to Santa Barbara. Elizabeth silently bore the pain of never knowing what had happened to her first love.

Then one day out of the blue the truth was revealed on the local news. There it was, all of her answers in one fell swoop. Janie’s body had been found. Simon had murdered her on that fateful day. Elizabeth cried for three days and then she found peace. She knew what had happened, and she could finally say goodbye.

She no longer felt fractured. She embraced her city and her life and opened her heart. A bit late in the game to start looking for love.

She padded downstairs and set the kettle on to boil.

She opened the package that had arrived just the other day. She smiled. It was a promotional gift set. A collection of herbal teas and a small jar of honey. She looked at the card.
A gift for you
. Then it went on with the usual sales pitch.

Elizabeth would have tossed it in the trash if it hadn’t been a collection of her favorite teas. The addition of fresh honey was something she simply couldn’t resist. She finished the tea, enjoying it so much that she set aside the card. “I should buy some,” she said, deciding that a second cup and a little more time lazing about was in order. She tried a different flavor, again adding honey.

“This is a perfect morning,” she said with a sigh. A few sips into the second cup of tea, her perfect morning turned sour. She shifted uncomfortably and a sharp pain attacked her. She barely made it into the bathroom before all hell broke loose. Her plans to spend the day wandering around the city were cast aside after her third trip to empty her stomach.

Defeated, she crawled back into bed and curled up; the pain was pure agony. She tried to understand how she had become so violently ill so quickly. She prayed to the goddess for relief. The pain increased as her body kept purging throughout the day until she was too weak to call for help. She heard the house phone ringing, then her cell. In her weakened state, she was unable to call for help.

*   *  *

Concerned, Myra furiously knocked on Elizabeth’s door. She had tried calling Elizabeth the previous day to confirm their plans for breakfast together but hadn’t received an answer. When Elizabeth failed to meet her for breakfast, Myra tried not to panic. Just as she had done the previous day she called all of Elizabeth’s numbers.

After her constant pounding on the door went unanswered, she called the landlord. Nothing in her forty-nine years had prepared Myra for what she found in Elizabeth’s bedroom. Poor Elizabeth was curled up on the bed, her face forever twisted in agony. Myra released a shriek, and the landlord called 911.

One look at the scene, and the EMTs called for the police and the medical examiner. Dr. Logan Fergus pronounced Elizabeth Pryce dead. He was unable to determine the cause of death. All he knew for certain was she did not go gently.

Chapter 17

Val sat in a corner booth at The Watch Factory, sipping her coffee. She had finished her breakfast, and now she was focused on coffee and watching the waitress. She had hoped to pick up on snippets of conversation between Maria and her coworkers. The tired-looking woman seemed to keep to herself. She noticed the dull, defeated look in Maria’s eyes the moment she sat down.

“Warm up?” Maria waved a fresh pot of coffee over Val’s mug.

“Sure.”

“Is there a reason you keep watching me?” Maria was just as blunt as her daughters.

Val sighed, reached in her pocket, and flashed her badge. “Heard from your husband?” She was tired and convinced this woman wanted nothing more in life than to be left alone.

“Not since they carted his sorry butt off to prison,” Maria said with a grunt. “At least I hope you’re talking about my ex. Might be real hard getting in touch with my first husband, unless you got a Ouija board.”

“Not handy.”

“So what happened? I thought Bert was locked up for good.”

“Parole. Skipped out of the halfway house.”

“Ain’t justice grand?” Maria said ruefully. “So, you’re gonna follow me around? Trust me, I don’t want anything to do with that SOB. He did enough damage to my life. I got a good job here. I don’t need trouble from him or you.”

“I get it,” Val said. “The thing is, I just can’t take your word for it. There’s a chance he was heading this way. The only people he knows up here are you and your daughters. I just want to find him and put him back in jail.” She slid her card across the table.

“You’ve seen my girls? They okay? I mean are they—”

“They’re fine.” Val tossed money down on the table and shrugged. She knew it was cruel. If Maria was going to talk to her, she had to have some leverage.

She wasn’t surprised to feel Maria’s hand on her arm or the request for her to wait. “My shift is over at one. Is there any way we can—”

“I’m kind of busy.” Val sounded bored. The pleading look in Maria’s eyes gave her the upper hand. “Fine. I’ll meet you across the street in the park.”

Maria whispered a thank you, and Val grabbed her bag. After making her exit, she broke out her laptop and searched for a signal. She popped her Bluetooth in her ear and went to work. The life of a US Marshal might seem exciting in the movies; in reality, there were a lot of little details. Paperwork, legwork, and good old-fashioned work were involved. Tracking down someone who didn’t want to be found went one of two ways: an early onset of stupidity and the guilty party was safely behind bars before the sun went down, or the guilty party was someone who possessed enough brain cells to fly under the radar. Albert “Bert” Beaumont was turning out to be smarter than Val had initially assumed.

By the time Maria joined her on the park bench, the only thing Val had to show for her efforts were a sore butt and a possible sighting at a fleabag motel on Route One. She was frustrated that no one was busting a sweat to find this guy. If it hadn’t been for Mills and the leverage she pulled, Val would have been on her own on this one. Normally, that wouldn’t bother her. But for a small city, Boston seemed to have a lot of hiding places.

When Maria arrived, she nervously took a seat next to Val, completely unaware that a federal agent had just been assigned to watch her morning, noon, and night.

“The girls, they’re okay?” Maria timidly asked.

“As far as I could tell.”

“Sorry. I don’t have a right to ask, do I?”

“You tell me.” Val’s interest was limited to Albert. She was listening to Maria’s sad tale simply because it might give her an idea as to where the weasel might be hiding. “I’m not here to judge you.”

“Ever sit back and look at your life and wonder what the hell happened?” Maria asked. “I don’t suppose you do.” She gave Val a curious look. “I had a good life. A good husband. Joseph was the love of my life. He had a good job with GE. We had two beautiful children, and then it was all gone. Funny that when your world is about to collapse, you really don’t see it coming. Donny, that was my boy, he was being picked on. We told him to ignore those boys, they’ll get tired and leave him alone. That didn’t work. They went from picking on him to out and out bullying him. Day after day he’d come home all beaten up. That was it for me. I went to the school. Twice. They claimed nothing was happening, except Donny’s attitude had changed and his grades were in trouble. It was like they blamed him. It was early on a Monday morning when Caitlin found him. He hung himself. Nothing can prepare you for losing your child that way. After he died, everything changed. Joe ended up shutting down completely. He worked longer and harder hours. He fell asleep behind the wheel. No surprise since he had been working back-to-back doubles for weeks. Three months, that’s how long it took for everything to happen. In three short months, I lost my son, my husband, and failed to see that my little girl was pretty much raising herself.”

“Hard thing to live through,” Val said.

“I never really pulled it together,” Maria continued seemingly unaware that Val was even there. “About a year and a half later, I met Albert Beaumont. I called him Bert. Albert sounded too dorky. Caitlin seemed fine around him. Bert was like a Godsend. He treated me right, not like I was damaged goods. Most folks tiptoe around you after you lose a child. Lose your husband and your child, most people just stay away.  Bert was great. A couple of months later he moved in, and we got married. In the beginning, when Caitlin started acting out, I thought she was just missing her father. I couldn’t believe the things she said Bert tried to do to her. When she took a baseball bat to him, I was convinced that she needed help. Social services got involved when she went to the police. We all agreed that she was just angry about her dad. After Stevie was born, Caitlin doted on that girl. I let her. She watched her baby sister like a hawk. I had hoped that it would help, you know, that she’d start getting along with Bert. Things got worse. My husband knew just the right things to say, so no matter what, I’d believe him over my daughter. In the end, I lost both my girls, because I chose my man over my children.” Maria grew silent. The look in her eyes was clear; she was beaten. She sat there seemingly unable to speak until finally she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Val sat there studying Maria. The woman seemed relieved to have finally told someone her story. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that Maria was telling the truth. No way she’d accept responsibility then turn around and give good old Bert another chance.

“Miss Gallagher,” she said slowly, “it couldn’t have been easy.”

“Don’t offer me an out.”

“I’m not. Like you said, you chose your man over your kids. That doesn’t get you a pass. I just want to make sure he ends up where he belongs. You have my card. If you hear or see anything, call me.”

“You’re direct.” A hint of a smile colored Maria’s face. “My Joe was like that.”

“So are your girls,” Val said as she stood. “You want me to pass a message on to them?”

“No.” This time Maria sounded defeated. “Like you said, I don’t get a pass. But thanks.”

During the short drive from Waltham to Boylston, Val tried to process everything she’d learned in the last twenty-four hours. It amounted to a whole package of nothing. Bert should have bolted, but instead he headed to Boston. She couldn’t shake the sudden feeling he was there, lurking in the shadows.

“Who are you planning on visiting?” She couldn’t help asking out loud as she pulled her sedan up to the curb by the police station.

Chapter 18

“That’s the GPS tracking,” Leigh said, handing CC the information. “Puts Mrs. Stern in the park the day Annie disappeared.”

“During the kid’s naptime,” Max added. “Her suit is going to have a helluva time explaining that one.”

“You didn’t hear?” CC asked. “Mrs. Stern’s new suit is none other than Gilmore Standorf.”

“Well, that’s just dandy,” Leigh grumbled. “Has he ever lost?”

“A couple of times,” Max said. “The last time was the People vs. Sasha. Calloway made him look like an idiot. Standorf didn’t know whether he should spit or wind his watch.”

“I remember that one,” Leigh said and smirked. “A slam dunk as I recall.”