Crime Seen (5 page)

I felt a little buzz in the back of my mind as my radar kicked back on. ‘‘Does Goodyear have any family besides his wife? Like children?’’

‘‘Nope. Just him and the missus,’’ Dutch said, setting the dishes in the sink.

‘‘Huh,’’ I said, puzzling that one over. ‘‘You sure?’’

Dutch turned around, leaned against the sink, and crossed his arms. ‘‘Yeah. At least, that’s what I remember. You thinking I should double-check?’’

‘‘Yes. There’s something off. He’s got a kid, Dutch, and that’s your missing link.’’

‘‘Okay, I’ll look into it. In the meantime, if you get any thoughts on Goodyear’s accomplice, jot ’em down, okay?’’

‘‘Gotcha,’’ I said and grinned at him. Just then my cell went off. I answered after glancing at the caller ID ‘‘Hey, Candice.’’

‘‘Afternoon!’’ she said jovially. ‘‘Are you ready to swing by your office and talk figures?’’

‘‘I’ll be there in ten,’’ I said and clicked off.

Dutch came over to me and wrapped me in his arms for a quick snuggle. ‘‘I need to get back to work too,’’ he said as he kissed the top of my head. ‘‘Thanks for your help, sweethot,’’ he added in his best Humphrey Bogart voice.

I squeezed him and let go. ‘‘You can pay me back by taking me shoe shopping this weekend,’’ I said. ‘‘Right after we get you that haircut.’’

‘‘Can’t I just give you my credit card and tell you to keep it under fifty dollars?’’

I laughed. ‘‘Where do you think I shop for shoes? Bucky’s Bargain Barn of Flip-flops?’’

‘‘I like flip-flops,’’ he said as he hung an arm over my shoulder and walked me to the door. ‘‘They’re sexy.’’

‘‘Ah,’’ I said. We paused on the front step. ‘‘Well, then, if you get excited over flip-flops, just wait till you see me in a pair of Jimmy Choos.’’

‘‘You’re turning into your sister,’’ he said, and gave me another smooch on the cheek. ‘‘Which reminds me—she called while you were napping.’’

‘‘Thanks,’’ I said, getting into my SUV. Before closing the door, I added, ‘‘I’ll call her back tonight and she can give me some pointers on what styles are in this season.’’

I drove across town to the big tan professional building that houses my office. The structure used to be one of the largest in downtown Royal Oak, but in the past few years so much new development had cropped up that the Washington Square Office Plaza now found itself in rather mixed company—much like a middle-aged swinging single at a trendy twentysomething nightclub. Still, I loved the old guy. It had character and personality. It also had a terrific landlord who’d hardly made a fuss about all the recent trouble originating in suite 222. There had been serial killers and blood, Mafia types and more blood, psychopaths and yes . . . a little more blood, and through all of it my rent had gone up only fifty bucks.

I parked in my usual slot in the parking garage across the street and hurried to the front lobby, glancing at my watch as I pushed through the doors. I headed up the two flights of stairs to my floor, then down the polished marble hallway to the second suite on the right. Candice was already there. ‘‘Hey!’’ she said with a wave. ‘‘God, Abs! You look fabulous for a girl who’s been shot.’’

I smiled tightly and pulled at the collar of my blouse. Physically, I remained pretty much the same as the last time she’d seen me—five-foot-six, one-twenty give or take, with very long brown hair and blue eyes. The only real change was a nasty scar on the right side of my chest that was sore to the touch and ugly as hell. ‘‘No worse for wear,’’ I said, giving her a hug. ‘‘But you look completely different,’’ I added as I took in her longer hair and its slightly darker color. ‘‘Your hair looks fantastic.’’

Candice was taller than me by a few inches and her look was sleek and trendy. She had a sense of style that made people notice her. And in all the time I’d known her, I’d never seen any color on her but white, black, and gray. That is, except for today. ‘‘And what’s with the new duds?’’ I asked as I turned to unlock my office door.

‘‘I know—right?’’ she said, running her hand along her pink sleeve. ‘‘I’ve been on this new kick lately. I’m trying to soften my look.’’

‘‘It’s good on you,’’ I said, waving her in.

‘‘So is this office,’’ she said as she paused in my tiny front lobby and did a three-sixty turn. ‘‘Abby, this is wonderful!’’

I’d had some trouble with a local psychopath a few months earlier, and he’d completely trashed my office. Luckily, I had insurance up the yin-yang and I’d been able to upgrade a lot of my furniture. The front lobby now held two red suede chairs and modern, dark-wood side tables, and a painting of colored patches hung just above the chairs, giving warmth to the space.

‘‘Come see the rest,’’ I coaxed, walking her into my reading room.

‘‘Wow,’’ she said as she entered. ‘‘This is completely different!’’ The room had previously been painted a Moroccan blue, with two cream-colored chairs, a lovely cherry oak credenza, and a blue-and-green-mosaic mirror on the wall. Crystals, both small and large, had dotted nearly every surface, and a huge, soothing waterfall had stood prominently in one of the far corners. I’d been truly crushed by the devastation that the wacko had wreaked on such a precious space and I couldn’t stand the thought of trying to re-create it, so I’d opted for a completely different look.

The room was now a very soft mocha brown, and I’d spent long hours painting the molding light cream. Two espresso-colored leather chairs faced each other in the center of the room, and a short chestnut bookcase had replaced the ruined credenza. The waterfall had been too expensive to replace, so I’d settled for a large terra-cotta pot filled with five-foot-tall bamboo shoots, and to the side of that, I’d actually made a new mosaic mirror out of shards of stained glass, which turned out much better than expected. I’d also hung sheer cream curtains along the window. The overall effect was more like a living room than a psychic’s parlor.

‘‘You like?’’ I asked.

‘‘No,’’ Candice said as she wrapped an arm over my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. ‘‘This, I
love
.’’ She pointed to the mirror. ‘‘And where did you get that? It’s like your other one, only bigger, right?’’

‘‘I made it,’’ I said.

‘‘Get out of here!’’ she exclaimed. ‘‘I didn’t know you did art.’’

I laughed. ‘‘A friend of mine taught me years ago. It’s really easy. I’ve kind of taken over Dutch’s garage making these recently.’’

‘‘Can you make me one?’’ she asked, then said quickly, ‘‘I mean, I’d pay for it.’’

‘‘Hell, Candice, I’ve got a whole friggin’ garage full of these things. My physical therapist said it would be good to help me regain the motor skills in my right arm. I think I’ve got a dozen of them lying around. Come by anytime and pick whichever one you like. There’s no price tag. They’re cheap to make and I like to do it.’’

‘‘Thanks, Abs,’’ Candice said and gave me another squeeze before settling into one of the leather chairs. ‘‘Now, let’s get down to business. How much were you thinking to charge me for Theresa’s old room?’’

I opened my mouth to suggest the price I had in mind when my intuitive radar gave me a buzz. Moving over to sit in the chair opposite Candice, I hesitated for a moment before answering her as I pulled the thought close. ‘‘Actually,’’ I began, sending a mental thank-you to my guides, ‘‘I was wondering if, for the first month, we could do a trade?’’

‘‘Trade?’’ she asked. ‘‘What did you have in mind?’’

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper on which I’d written out my impressions about Walter’s murder. ‘‘I’ve come across something that I could really use your professional opinion on.’’

Candice cocked an eyebrow. ‘‘Just my opinion?’’

‘‘And maybe a little legwork,’’ I added.

‘‘Opinion and legwork?’’

‘‘Okay, so maybe there will be some interviewing and background checking and other private eye stuff too.’’

Candice chuckled. ‘‘This deal just went from fantastic to are you serious?’’

‘‘I see your point,’’ I said, looking at the paper in my hand. ‘‘Make that the first two months’ rent.’’ My crew was making me feel like I was definitely going to need Candice’s help on this one, and I knew I had to pin her down quickly before her caseload built up.

‘‘How much legwork, background checking, and other private eye stuff are we talking about?’’

‘‘Depends.’’

‘‘On?’’

‘‘On what we find out initially.’’

Candice sat back in her seat and eyed me critically. ‘‘Want to elaborate a little just so I know what I’m getting myself into?’’

I looked up and met her eyes. I’d really wanted to avoid the whole getting-into-the-details end of the case. As I saw it, this Wolfe guy was one bad dude, and if Candice had heard of him prior to committing to me and found out he was involved, well, that would be a good reason for her to turn me down. ‘‘It involves an old case of Dutch’s,’’ I began.

‘‘Did he finally wise up to the gold mine he has for a girlfriend and ask you to tune in on some cold cases?’’

‘‘In a manner of speaking,’’ I said. Then I laid out for her the story I knew about Bruce Lutz, Walter McDaniel, and Dick Wolfe.

When I finished, Candice’s body posture had changed. Her arms had folded across her chest the moment I mentioned Wolfe, and I thought for sure she was going to refuse my offer. I did my best to make the deal slightly sweeter. ‘‘Three months’ rent— and I’ll throw in an extra mirror for your grandmother.’’

Candice laughed and seemed to relax a little. ‘‘You know, this Wolfe guy is known in my circle as someone you don’t want to mess with.’’

‘‘His reputation has reached all the way to Kalamazoo, huh?’’

Candice nodded. ‘‘ ’Fraid so, Abs. Still, it’s obvious to me that you’re going to go poking your nose where it doesn’t belong whether or not I agree to help you, so in the interest of keeping you out of any new lines of fire, I’m tempted to say yes.’’

‘‘Four months, Candice, and that’s my final offer.’’ I was rewarded with another laugh and Candice’s arms uncrossed. ‘‘Again, it’s very tempting,’’ she said, tapping her finger against her lips. ‘‘But I’m a little reluctant to commit to this, because I know you could use the money.’’

‘‘I’m fine,’’ I said with a wave of my hand. ‘‘I’ve still got some insurance money and we just got an offer on that investment property I own.’’

Candice nodded, but her look was still pensive. ‘‘I think what I’m getting at is a more formal agreement,’’ she said.

‘‘What kind of formal agreement?’’

‘‘Well, you’ve certainly helped me out in the past, and I’ve loved having you on my team. What would you say to forming a real partnership?’’

The corners of my mouth turned up. I could see where she was going with this. ‘‘You want to go into business with each other?’’

‘‘The way I see it, you’ve let go of most of your clientele, right?’’

I squirmed in my chair. This was smacking of the recent lectures I’d received from my boyfriend, and I was never really good at dealing with other people’s opinions. ‘‘I’m easing back into the idea of starting up again.’’

‘‘But in the meantime, you’ve got all this free time. What better way to keep your radar sharp than to work on my cases with me? We can hammer out some sort of hourly trade. It would really help me get established here, Abs. I could cut down on the number of hours I’d need to resolve a lot of my cases and take on more in less time. It’s win-win for me.’’

‘‘And you’d be willing to help me by getting to the bottom of Walter McDaniel’s murder?’’

It was Candice’s turn to squirm. ‘‘Yes,’’ she finally said. ‘‘But there are a few conditions that I’d need you to agree to.’’

‘‘Like what?’’

‘‘Like, you’d need to put me in charge of the overall investigation. I’m serious about this Wolfe guy. I know for a fact that the FBI’s been trying to nail him for years but hasn’t been able to get him yet. He’s slippery and smart and has one hell of a nasty reputation. Plus, I personally knew someone who got caught up in Wolfe’s business and hasn’t shown up to work in two years.’’

My eyes widened. ‘‘What happened?’’

‘‘One of the other PIs at my old firm took on an ex-girlfriend of Wolfe’s in a paternity suit. The PI— Darren Cox is his name— was a rookie investigator. I thought he was an idiot, but my boss saw some potential in him. Two weeks after he took on the Wolfe case, my boss gets a call from Darren. He tells him that he’s taking a vacation. He’s just won a ticket to the Caribbean and the deal was that he needed to leave immediately. We never saw or heard from Darren again. Then, an hour after Darren calls us, his client telephones. She wants to pay her bill and close the case, says it was all just a big fat misunderstanding.’’

‘‘My ass it was,’’ I said, feeling my radar buzz its agreement.

‘‘Those were our sentiments exactly,’’ Candice said.

‘‘Do you think Darren was paid off? Or just scared into leaving town?’’

‘‘Probably a little of both, so it’s important that we be discreet, Abby. Wolfe isn’t someone I want on my ass, especially given your impressions that he had a direct hand in offing McDaniel.’’

‘‘Got it,’’ I said, making a check sign in the air. ‘‘Be discreet.’’

‘‘There’s also your boyfriend to consider here,’’ she added. ‘‘Does he know you think that Bruce Lutz was just a stool pigeon?’’

‘‘Uh . . . not exactly,’’ I said, looking at my shoes.

‘‘By ‘not exactly’ you mean not at all, right?’’

‘‘That would be a fair assumption,’’ I said with a shrug. ‘‘He and Milo are all gung ho on making sure Lutz does as much time as possible. I don’t think he’d take kindly to the thought that Lutz wasn’t the triggerman.’’

‘‘And how do you think he’s going to feel about finding out that his girlfriend is sticking her nose into the middle of all this?’’

‘‘Oh, he’ll probably be totally pissy about it, which is why I vote for not telling him.’’

‘‘I see,’’ Candice said with a grin. ‘‘That’s fine, but you have to remember that he’s FBI, and they
know
stuff, you know? So if this gets back to him, you’re going to have to deal with it and make sure I’m left out of the blame game, ’kay?’’