Checkmate (Caitlin Calloway Mystery Book 2) (17 page)

“No such thing,” CC said. “Which is why we need to check everything. Good old Snaps is still sitting on the fence regarding the assault charges.”

“How can he stand by her? She tasered his nuts.” Max shivered.

“Same as a woman in an abusive situation,” CC said. “Right now, Mr. Stern is iffy at best. Then there is spousal privilege, and whatever other crap Standorf can scrape together to keep the evidence out. Our biggest edge is the statements Mrs. Stern made to Mulligan.”

“Hard to explain,” Leigh said. “Mrs. Stern claims the girl quit but didn’t take anything with her, including her phone and her passport. GPS from the family SUV puts her in the park where we found the body. Standorf will go with hearsay. He’ll also try to get her confession thrown out. We still have Annie’s belongings being left in the house. No teenager leaves their cell phone behind.”

“Standorf is shrewd.” CC tapped her chin. “The DA needs everything we can get.” The phone on her desk rang, breaking her train of thought. “Calloway.”

“Calloway, it’s Mills. We need to talk.”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s kind of personal.”

“What’s up?” she asked, already sensing why Mills was calling.

“I-I heard something,” she stammered. “It’s about Albert Beaumont. I should have talked to you sooner.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard he took a runner,” CC said and grunted. “Had a US Marshal on my doorstep last night. I’ll be honest with you, when Deputy Doodad showed up on my doorstep, I was ready to call Finn and rip into him. I can’t figure why they think Beaumont would look me up. Last time I saw the guy, I called him a lying piece of dung and promised that he’d rot in jail.”

“Word is he was spotted heading this way,” Mills said. “Could be just on his way to Canada. Never know.”

“Let’s hope,” CC responded quietly. “Thanks for giving me the heads-up.”

“Hey, it’s what we do. Again, sorry about not calling you sooner.”

“I know how these things go.”

“Truth is, it would have got lost if the out-of-towner hadn’t pulled some mighty big strings.”

“Brown?”

“Word is she has friends in high places. Good thing, because Finn wasn’t listening to Connecticut. Still I should have given you a shout.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mills.”

The call ended. Still troubled, CC returned her attention to Max and Mulligan. She tried to focus on the evidence. In the back of her mind, she kept asking one question. “Why in the world would Bert Beaumont come to Boston?”

“What is it?” Max wasn’t one to waste time. He probably guessed something was bothering CC. Maybe it was the way she kept banging her desk drawers and cursing like a sailor that gave her away.

“Mills was giving me a heads-up about Albert Beaumont.” Her mind was trying to process the information. “Seems he ducked out of his halfway house. Already had a visit from the Feds. He might be heading this way.”

“Beaumont?” Max said. “Who in the hell let that bastard out of prison?”

“Don’t care,” CC muttered. “I just want to know why he’s headed to Boston. The only people he knows here are me and Stevie.”

“And your mother.” A cool voice cut in.

“Ah, Deputy Dumb Ass,” CC said with a snarl. “Any reason you chose to leave that part out of our little chat last night? You know, the part where he was in the area.”

“Might be in the area.”

“If his wife is here, that would explain it,” CC reasoned.

“Ex-wife,” Val said.

“Mom finally did something smart.” CC tried to shrug it off. “Good luck with your search. If you find him, feel free to shoot him.”

“Maybe we should discuss this somewhere else,” Val suggested.

“We have work to do.” CC didn’t care if she sounded curt; she wanted this woman gone. “Some of us are interested in putting the bad guys away.”

“Nice.” Val grimaced. “I heard about your case. Suburban mom whacking the nanny. Sounds like you got her dead to rights.”

“Never know,” Max said, glaring at the marshal. “She’s got an expensive mouthpiece.”

“Murder rate is up around these parts,” Val said.

“The economy is down,” CC noted. “Most of what we get is gang related or domestic. Not much investigating involved. This case is different. Mrs. Stern is a pious pain in the ass.”

“No lie,” Leigh added.

“The one night she was in lockup, she managed to unite the skinheads and the sisters against her. Had to put her in protective custody.”

“Sounds like a real piece of work.”

“You could say that,” CC said. “Now that you’ve played nice, are you ready to explain yourself? Why didn’t you tell me Beaumont was in the Boston area?”

“Might be,” Val repeated. “You know how these leads go. It might be a bunch of crap. I’ll tell you what I know. I’d really prefer to do it in private.”

“Fine. Do you like crappy coffee? Ours is the worst in the country.”

“Actually, Paramus has the worst. Maybe we could get a breath of fresh air?”

“Dunkies?” Leigh and Max requested in unison.

“You want me to bring the both of you coffee? Break room’s down the hall and to the left.” CC charged out of the squad room with Val behind her.

“No offense,” Val said, “but what the hell is it with this town and Dunkin Donuts? I swear there’s one on every corner.”

“Because there is. And before you ask, it isn’t about the donuts.”

“But the coffee sucks?”

“What? I’ll ignore that, for the moment. Only because I have a list of questions for you.”

“Such as?”

“Why didn’t you tell me my beloved stepfather might be in the area? Why are you flying solo? Bit unusual for a marshal to be tracking a fugitive all alone.” CC felt a steady pounding in her ears from her steadily rising blood pressure.

“I didn’t tell you until I had to,” Val said as she followed after CC. “No need upsetting you or your family. If I could bag Beaumont, then let you know, all the better. I haven’t got him, just a feel that he’s in the area. That’s why I went to you alone.”

“So you have a team in place?” CC stopped dead in her tracks. “You’ve been watching my family? Son of a bitch!”

“Mostly your sister.” Val remained calm. “Wouldn’t you? Come on, why else would he show up here, if not for his kid and hers?”

CC’s stomach churned. It was too much. After all these years, her own personal bogeyman was back. She was furious that she and her family were being watched. “You should have come to me sooner.”

“Come on, Calloway. You know what it’s like. You have to get into their heads. It’s a dark place. I’m doing what I have to do. The more I know, the easier it will be to catch him. There’s no reason other than your family for him to come here.”

“My mother.”

“I don’t think so.” Val shook her head. “She saw the light after his arrest in Connecticut. Dumped him and ran. Chances are he doesn’t even know she’s here. Hell, I had trouble finding her.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“Did you know?”

“I wasn’t looking.”

“Who does he know here besides you? You never left even after your family moved out of state.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” CC fought the urge to throttle Val. “I was fifteen, and they kicked me out because I’m a big dyke.”

“Where were you? I’m looking at a three-year gap.”

“What difference does it make?” CC shouted only to receive a blank stare in return. “It isn’t germane. The only contact I had with my family was my kid sister. Her safety was all I cared about. As for the rest, I got by.”

“Someone had to be helping you. I know this is hard. I hate prying into another cop’s life.”

“Back then, it was considered striking out on your own.” CC forced the words out. “Look, the last thing my loving mother said to me was, ‘If that’s the way you are, go live with your funny uncle.’”

“Jesus, you were fifteen.”

“I never said we were the Waltons.” CC was already weary of the conversation. “Like I said, I got by. With the exception of my sister, no one in the family knew where to find me. Eventually, I did end up living with my uncle. Just find Beaumont. My family has been through enough.”

“I’ll find him, and I promise to keep you in the loop. Just tell me, is there anyone who might have coerced him into coming up here? Like your uncle?”

“Mac?” CC scoffed. She knew what the good deputy was thinking. “Look, he was pissed when he found out what was going on. I told him to stand down. After all these years, why bother? Do me a favor. Mac C isn’t a favorite with the boys in blue. Unless they need to place a bet. Most of them don’t know he’s my uncle. I’m a clean cop.”

“I got you,” Val said. “No one knows he’s your uncle, and you’d like to keep it that way. I still need to talk to him.”

“He’s at the Lucky Seven. Usually hooked up to a tank of oxygen. Refuses to give up the smokes. Uncle Mac can barely walk across the street. I doubt he has the energy to set up a hit on a guy he hasn’t seen in twenty-some-odd years.”

“Thank you, and I will keep you in the loop.”

“You better. Trust me, my bad side isn’t where you want to be.”

“I don’t doubt that for a minute.”

“He took a powder about a week ago?”

“Yes, why?”

“Could be nothing.” CC hesitated, her heart thumping. With everything going on with the Stern case, she had forgotten about the strange greeting card. “I was in California for a night, and my sister got a weird greeting card in the mail.”

“What did it say?”

“Happy Father’s Day.”

“Jesus.” Val gaped at her. “Where is it? I need to have forensics look at it.”

“They already are.” CC unclipped her new cell phone. “Corey, it’s Calloway.” She listened to his grumbling for a moment before cutting him off. “Yeah, I know you’re busy. Did you get a look at that card I dropped off?”

“Yes, and I came up with nothing. The only prints I can trace back to postal workers, your sister, and your wife. No DNA on the envelope either. Whoever sealed it used garden variety tap water.”

“Hold on to it. There’s a marshal by the name of Brown on her way to see you. Give it to her and tell her what you told me What about the DNA tests on those belts for the Fraser case?”

“You never let up,” Corey grumbled. “Just got the results, two hits the victim and Natalie Stern. That should make the DA happy. So, do I get a cookie?”

“Your wife is going to kill me.” CC almost laughed. “Help me wrap this one up and you get cheese cake.”

“I love you.”

“What?” Val asked once CC hung up.

“Dr. Corey McDowell has the card. No prints and no DNA. He’ll hand it over to you and only you. Oh, and you might want to bring him a Twinkie or something.”

“What?”

“There wasn’t a case file on this. He’s got a sweet tooth and a wife who has him restricted to rabbit food,” CC said. “If you don’t want him to bury you in red tape until the next ice age, bring the guy something he shouldn’t be eating.”

“How is it you get things done in this city? No wonder it took you eighty-two years to finally win another series.”

“Hey!” CC was infuriated. Brown could question her skills all she wanted, but there was no need to bring her beloved Red Sox into it. “What are you, a Yankees fan?” Her jaw dropped when Brown smirked at the comment. “Oh, that’s enough. First you’re snarky about Dunkin Donuts, now you like the Yankees. I can’t work with this.”

*   *  *

Val did pay a visit to the Lucky Seven. It wasn’t hard to find Mac Calloway. He was holding court in a back corner of the bar. As his niece predicted, he was indeed hooked up to an oxygen tank. Even at a distance, the man looked pale.

“A cop bar. Talk about hiding in plain sight.” She shook her head, fully aware that everyone was watching her every move. “Mac C?” She showed her badge and kept her hands in plain view, alerting everyone in the room that her intentions were honorable.

“A Fed?” He stroked his bushy mustache. “To what do I owe the honor?” He motioned for her to take a seat. Her initial assessment of the bookie hadn’t been far off. He was indeed frail, his probably once vibrant red hair now wisps of white strands. Yet there was a coldness in his dark blue eyes. This was not a man Val wanted to upset in any way, shape, or form. “Please sit,” he repeated with a ghost of smile.

Val took a seat in the rickety wooden chair across from him. Unconsciously, she moved the chair slightly so she could view the entire barroom and not have her back to everyone.

“Smart.” He nodded, not missing her action. “Not having your back exposed. Military?”

“Navy, retired.”

“If you’ve come to place a bet, I should warn you that would be entrapment.”

“I don’t give a…” She almost laughed at his assumption. “I’m not here for a friendly discussion on tonight’s game. I’m Val Brown, US Marshal. This is about a man who may have caused you some stress in the past.”

“Not a short list.”

“Albert Beaumont.”

“Bert?” Mac truly seemed surprised. “If you’re here to tell me that pissant isn’t rotting away in a four by nine cell, I’m not going to be a happy man.”

“You’re not going to be a happy man.”

“Don’t tell me some bleeding-heart jackass put him in witness protection or some other bullshit?”

“No. Idiot took a runner.”

“Here?” Mac looked as if he was about to fall out of his chair. “That would make him a new kind of stupid. Look, back in the day I didn’t do anything because Cattie asked me not to. Kid is just like her old man, stubborn as all hell. I respect her.”

“I just need to know if I’m looking for a corpse.”

“I didn’t hurt a hair on his chinny-chin-chin. But if I could-“

“Best you stop there,” Val said. There was no way he was lying. The anger in his eyes was fresh. He hadn’t known. Now he did, and that made Beaumont fair game.

“Blood on your hands isn’t what your niece wants.” Val shivered when she looked into his eyes. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Mac already had blood on his hands. Since she was certain it wasn’t Beaumont’s, she decided to just let it be.

“I know, and keep quiet about Cattie. She’s clean, no need tarnishing her badge. I love that kid and her sister. Those girls and little Emma are the only family I’ve got left.” He paused to take a hit of oxygen. “You find him, before I do. But I have to tell you that sorry SOB wouldn’t come anywhere near here. The only thing waiting for him in Boston is a target on his back. Much as I’d hate to break my word, I’m on my way out. Taking the trash out with me wouldn’t bother me a bit.”