Flash Flood (11 page)

Dan thought he knew exactly what she was trying to say. He knew Carolyn and the importance of maintaining that squeaky clean image—too much at stake, the state's first ladyship.

“Eric always tried to keep up with Phillip. Have the same plane, take the same vacations, but there was no way he could match Phillip's money.”

“No. There probably wasn't.” Dan was quiet a moment thinking about his sister's husband and thought even he was naive when it came to putting a dollar amount to what Phillip was worth. Two million? Five? Ten? A lot, he knew that.

“What about Billy Roland?”

“Billy Roland?”

“You mentioned him a minute ago. Do you think he was involved?”

“He was Eric's employer, sort of on again, off again. But, more than that, he was a longtime friend of the family. I find it hard to believe that he would be involved in drugs. Yet, the plane was his, the assignment. I've always had that nagging suspicion that Eric, at least, thought he was taking a fall for the old man.”

“Would he do that?”

“That's another side of Eric, give you the shirt off his back.”

“Or seven years of his life.”

She smiled but didn't offer to continue.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean this to turn into a grilling.”

“No problem. I'm just glad we can talk about it. That's important to me. It's going to be important to any new relationship I have. I don't like secrets.”

He reached out and took her hand, and got that same zing of pleasure he'd remembered. “I'm glad you agreed to see me again. I apologize for bolting the other night.”

“Understandable.” She shifted in the chair but didn't remove her hand. “You look tired,” she said finally.

“Too much work.”

As good an excuse as any to bail out for tonight. Dan needed to stop touching her before he went back on the promise to keep this drinks only and heard himself suggesting something else.

“How about dinner on Sunday?”

“I'd love to.”

She reached for her purse before she stood, slipping her hand out of his. But then she paused and said almost shyly, “Thanks for the drink. I enjoyed it. This was a perfect evening.”

He thought what she left unsaid was thanks for not pushing me, not making me do something I want to do making me risk getting hurt. But then wasn't that what he was thinking? And being tired wasn't a lie. He followed her past the front desk and then around the side to the parking lot. The powder blue Benz didn't have a speck of dust on it.

“Nice car.”

“One of those nice things that Eric made possible.”

Dan felt himself going on the alert.

“How's that?”

“His aunt left her estate to me. Wrote Eric out of her will. It was sort of a last straw when he went to prison. She actually put in her will that I was to buy a new house and car. I think she took responsibility for how Eric turned out, thought the money would make up for hard times.” She smiled before slipping behind the wheel. “See you Sunday.”

Dan watched as Elaine pulled out into traffic. For the first time that evening, he felt relieved. Maybe she didn't need the two million.

The phone was ringing when Dan walked in the door of his apartment.

“It's probably time we had our little chat. But I'm not sure your phone's clear. Give it about five minutes, then walk across to the gas station. Pay phone's in front.”

The informant again. Dan suddenly wasn't tired anymore. He needed the information that this guy could give him. He slipped into jeans and a t-shirt, locked his front door, and walked across the street. The station was deserted. A guy in a pickup putting air in his tires but otherwise all the islands were empty. Dan didn't have to wait long before the phone rang.

“Do you have a name?”

“Not important. I have information, the kind of stuff you're looking for.”

“On the scam to defraud United L & C with the death of a few select Charolais?”

“I don't give a flying fuck about a handful of cows. You and I both know the feds aren't talking beefsteak. But, yes, that among other things.”

“So, why don't you tell me what they are interested in.” Dan hated the guy's attitude but informants were rarely the cream of humanity.

“Drugs. Money. Anything illegal.”

“How do I figure in?”

“You're going to get the proof.”

“And if I say no?”

“You won't.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me. You're already in up to your dick.”

Dan thought of Billy Roland, then Phillip and the feds. Maybe he already had a vested interest. The asshole was probably right.

“What happens next?”

“I get back in touch. When do you go back to the ranch?”

“Monday.”

“You'll hear from me.”

Then the phone went dead. He walked back across the street and unlocked the door to another ringing phone. Wasn't his night to get any rest, it seemed. He could barely recognize Elaine's voice through the sobs, something about Buddy being dead and someone breaking into her house. He said he'd be there in ten minutes, told her to call the cops and stay put.

The first thing he saw when he pulled in her drive was the car door open on the Benz and a purse lying on the ground about two feet away, open, with its contents spilled across the driveway. He hit the back door, burst into the kitchen and heard the sound of crying coming from the study. Elaine was sitting cross-legged cradling the body of Buddy in the middle of the floor, surrounded by an unbelievable mess of papers and books and overturned furniture. Her head was buried in the fur of his neck and her shoulders shook convulsively. The dog's eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling and his legs were beginning to stiffen.

He called her name. She looked up startled, then wiped at her eyes.

“Are you hurt?” Dan dropped to his knees. She shook her head. “Have you called the police?”

“Nothing's missing.”

“Are you sure?”

“TV's here, CD player, computer….”

“Jewelry?”

“Nothing's gone. They said to fill out a report at the station.”

“And Buddy? I think we ought to have a vet check him. Find out cause of death.” When she agreed, he called a twenty-four-hour emergency animal clinic and said they'd be there in twenty minutes. He was glad he'd rented a Jeep; Buddy was a good seventy-five pounds or more and even wrapped in a blanket, difficult to maneuver into the vehicle.

While they waited for the results of the examination, Elaine told him how she'd come home to find the back door open and heard Buddy howl, just one long painful cry. Like he'd been waiting on her. He'd died in her arms. There were fresh tears, but she was regaining composure. The vet assured them that he'd died of overexertion. Something excited him, frightened him, but he'd probably not been touched. Just one of those old age and shock things.

Elaine spent a few minutes saying her good-byes and then chose to let the vet cremate him. Dan heard himself offer to dig a grave in the yard; he knew it was past midnight, but Elaine just thanked him and said that this was all right. They drove home in silence.

He helped her put the house back in order. Book cases were replaced, repaired in one instance, and papers sorted. Elaine was right. Nothing had been taken but the next question was—what was someone looking for?

“I don't know what I could have and not even know it.”

“Something of Eric's?” There it was again. His name. The ghost between them. He couldn't forget he was here partly because the feds wanted him to be. Wanted him to look for anything that would give them Billy Roland.

“Were there any papers, I don't know, something Eric had kept here at the house?”

“No. I bought this house after he was gone. He never lived here. Never saw the place. I stored his personal things. I wanted this place to be mine, no memories.”

“Were there any personal effects? Something they would have sent you from Texas?”

She was shaking her head, then looked up, “The bank called last week and said I should come get the contents of a safe deposit box, one I didn't even know he had. It was in his name only. I had to provide a death certificate to take the stuff with me.”

“What was in it?”

“Nothing unusual. A passport. A picture of his parents. A ring of keys.”

“Keys?”

“I recognized the ignition key to his Jaguar. A car he sold twelve years ago. Kept it for sentimental reasons, I guess.”

“Did you recognize any others?”

“No. I thought one was to the back door of our old house.”

“Where are the keys now?”

“I tossed them in a drawer at the office.”

“In the morning you're going to the office, get the keys, and put them in your safe deposit box. Okay?”

She nodded. “Do you think they're important?”

“Who knows?” He didn't have to say with Eric's background, anything might be important. They finished cleaning up. He insisted on staying the night. She didn't protest. There wasn't even a question of sleeping in the same bed. The sadness over losing Buddy put a real damper on the evening. He gathered up a comforter and sheets and slept on the daybed in the spare bedroom. It was three before he turned out the lights.

Elaine was up before he was. He found her in the kitchen, perched on a stool by a breakfast bar that separated kitchen from dining room. She didn't look like she'd slept very well.

“Promise me those keys go into a safe deposit box first thing this morning?”

“I promise.” She tried to smile but wasn't exactly successful. The temptation was there to kiss her. But this kind of hurt was beyond kissing and making it well.

“I have to run by the office. I promised Carolyn I'd have dinner with them tonight. But, I'll call later.”

He couldn't say she'd been invited too, but that he wanted to question Phillip about Eric and it wouldn't exactly do to have her there. Then before he got to the door, he turned back and made an offer he'd been thinking about. One that would make him feel a whole lot better if she'd take him up on it.

“Want to do something for me?” He waited till she nodded. “I'm going to be out here a month. Would you mind doing a little dog-sitting?”

“Maybe I'm not ready for another dog yet.”

“I'd feel a lot better if I knew you had some protection. Whoever did this to the house last night might come back.” Dirty tactics to play on her fear, but he could see it had worked.

“I suppose you're right.”

“I'll get back later.”

***

Dan stopped at the office and called good old Roger and gave him a piece of his mind about scaring everyone half to death, about the dog, about the house being in a mess. Yes, the dog was old but that was no excuse for leaving him dying. Roger had Tom get on the other line. Both vehemently denied breaking and entering. But had Dan expected them to stand up and come forward? No. Not the feds. Not when they were desperate for evidence, grasping at straws.

These were just a couple guys probably getting pushed by their superiors. But that was no excuse. He finally slammed down the phone. But he knew they couldn't be threatened. They hadn't found whatever it was they were looking for, which was probably anything that would implicate Elaine. or friends. And they just might be back. That's why Simon was important.

His next call was to Jonita, the long suffering, longtime employee who kept his socks in order and everything dusted and even looked after Simon during his short trips. Yes, she'd get him out of the kennel and have him shipped out. She'd leave a message as to when to meet the plane if she missed him later. She'd try to have him on his way tomorrow morning. He thanked her and told her to put it on the household plastic and was glad he'd left a card with her for emergencies.

He felt good about bringing Simon out. Being away a month or two was hard on him. Both of them. The kennel, a real doggy Club Med on Chicago's north side, encouraged leaving a video of you and your dog especially if separation was over two weeks. There was even a resident viewing room. He'd never left Simon with home movies, and he'd seemed to do okay. But then, maybe, he just took the teasing from the other dogs, took the ribbing from the snooty Afghans he'd seen there once or twice before. Whatever, it would be good to have him close by.

He called Elaine, but she was out. He hoped putting the stuff of Eric's into a safe deposit box. He left a message inviting her to go into Albuquerque tomorrow to pick up Simon; he planned to leave late morning. Then he confirmed with Carolyn that dinner was at seven.

***

Dan struggled with the wire. The tape irritated his skin and kept popping off. He told himself that he was only testing it tonight, it was unlikely that Phillip would say anything that would interest anybody. Or was he hoping that Phillip wouldn't?

He was ambivalent about his brother-in-law. They didn't have a lot in common. Mostly, he had just ignored Phillip over the years. They had spent the usual stilted holiday dinners together. Everyone being courteous to one another. Carolyn and Phillip were both nice to each of his two wives; they always exchanged inane gifts that usually had to be taken back, but that was Carolyn's doing. Her taste and his never had been the same.

But, their lives were so different. Phillip started his own electronics firm, manufactured some gizmo that made him rich. Filthy rich probably captured it. Then he'd inherited the family ranch. Put it all together, and you came up with a net worth of a few million. But the money wasn't a problem, not between them anyway, even though Dan had chosen a four-year degree in criminal law from a local college, and Sis was Smith all the way.

No, when Dan got right down to it, it was Phillip's back-slapping—“never met a man I didn't like”—that forever campaigning stance that drove him nuts. He always thought it covered up a slightly superior attitude. Out West breeding but Back East education.