Shopping is Murder (McKinley Mysteries Book 6) (11 page)

Firelight Epiphany

THE SUN HAD SET AND the chill in the air spoke of winter, not fall. It wasn
’t much of a stretch of imagination to envision snowflakes falling down.

Their first fire of the year was dancing in the fireplace, but Sara missed the smell and sound of crackling wood. Modern convenience and cleanliness had squashed out the primitive way of doing things—even if the old way was better.

Before heading home, they had provided the list of names to Jimmy, hoping he would get to it sooner rather than later.

Settled into the living room, Sara snuggled in to Sean on the sofa, trying to derive warmth from him.

More than the weather had plummeted the temperature of her core. It was probably just the deep thinking that this investigation brought to her. It made her more aware of their mortality.

Her head must have felt heavy on his shoulder, as he adjusted his position frequently. This time he maneuvered so he could see her.
“What are you thinking, darling?”

She pulled her eyes from the flames.
“Jerrod must have done something wrong. There’s no other explanation for the disc unless it was leverage of some sort.”

“Maybe he just wanted a recent album.” He offered his words with a subtle smile.

“You think you’re funny.” She smirked at him. “If only there was a way to find out what was on there.”

“What makes you think that he was being bribed about something and not buying information?”

“I suppose it could be either, but someone came after him and the disc again. The money must not have come through after all and they came to retrieve what was theirs.”

“That would happen either way wouldn’t it?”

“Not necessarily. If the disc held information Jerrod didn’t want getting out, the briber wouldn’t want to let go of any leverage he had.”

“Worth killing over?”

“That’s something we have to figure out.”

“Still, this is conjecture. We have no proof that Jerrod paid any—”

The doorbell rang.

“Who could that be?”

“One way to find out.” Sean got up for the door. It opened wide a second later and Jimmy walked in.

“Evening, Sara. Sean.”

“Evening.”

“To what do we owe this visit?” Sean asked.

Sara picked up on the subtleties in Sean’s tone of voice.
Sean would let Jimmy lay out the purpose of his call and then move on to asking for what they needed.

“I have your information already.” He held up a file folder.

“On all the names we got from Nicole?” Sara got up and crossed over to the men.

Sean took the folder.

“I see you two are drinking.” His eyes skipped to the cognac in the crystal tumbler on the table. “Do you mind sharing with an old friend?”

“Of course not.” Sara excused herself to grab a glass and came back to pour him a healthy measure. “Here you go.”

Jimmy took it from her and held up the glass, eyeing it from the bottom side and then lowered it. “You two are getting fancy on me. The real deal to drink from now, I see.”

“You’re referring to crystal?”

“That and the snifter.”

Sean wrapped his arm around Sara and squeezed her in to his side. “Nothing but the best for my Sara, and I rather like the nice things too.”

“I bet you do.” Jimmy took a draw from the amber liquid and then let out a whistle. “You guys do know how to pick the drink.”

“Come on, Jimmy, join us.” Sara gestured to a chair as she headed back to where she’d been sitting before. When both men were seated, she asked, “So you looked into all of them? Anything stand out?”

Jimmy shook his head.
“No records across the board. One guy had a couple of parking tickets.” He let out a sly smile. “Really, it appears like we might have hit a dead end. Sorry about such a bad turn of phrase.” He lifted his glass back for another swallow.

Sara hoped to garner Sean’s attention but he wasn’t looking her direction. She said,
“Jimmy, that might not be entirely true. There are always many different angles to go about things.”

Jimmy sat back into the chair, leaving the snifter in one hand while he patted the arm of the chair with his other.
“I take it you guys have some other ideas? You really were great at your jobs. You’re pretty much always on a case anyway. Why not just come back and get paid for it?”

“No, Jimmy, it ain’t happening.” Sean snickered. “There’s so much more freedom this way.”

Sara tucked her cheek in toward her shoulder.
“And we don’t need the money.”

Jimmy took in the large great room they sat in. It was monumental, with twenty-foot-high vaulted ceilings and a chandelier that hung in the center of the space. His eyes came back to meet Sara
’s. “That’s an understatement.”

His amusement caused her to laugh.
“This way, we can help people, but we encourage them to donate to charity what they would have paid us.”

“You both really are angels.” Jimmy drained back some more cognac.

Sara got up and topped him off.
“We need your help with something else.” It was funny how even though Jimmy had openly offered his help, old habits resorted to bribery—laying the path to make it easier for him to comply.

Her efforts weren’t lost on Jimmy, whose gaze traveled from the refill, to Sean, back to Sara.

“I could have guessed it.” He guffawed and took a sip. “Name it.”

Sean leaned forward, steadying his glass between his legs.
“We’ve been talking more about motivation, and we think that the killer had something on Jerrod Hill.”

“You think he was bribed?”

“Yes,” Sara added. “And we believe the information he was trying to get back was on the disc planted at Groovin’ Beat.”

“All right, I can see that. Where do I fit in?”

“Since none of those names stood out with a criminal background, we need to go about this another way. Can you see if there is some sort of a connection between Andres Malone and any of the lawyers?”

“Might take some time, Sara.”

“And we have something else to ask.” She put on the sweetest tone she could muster.

“For you, the world.” Jimmy raised his glass in a toast gesture, adding a double entendre as to whether he referred primarily to her, or the cognac.

“We need you to dig into the Hills’ financials. Of course, if you can’t do it…” Sara baited him. If they needed to, they could always turn to Adam, a genius they had working at their New York company, Universal Acquisitions Corporation.

“And what am I looking for?”

“To see if there are any large transfers or withdrawals that stand out.”

“I’ll get started on that after I see if I can spot a correlation between the tattoo guy and any lawyers on the victim’s hater list.”

“You’re the best.” Sara smiled as she held up the cognac. “Would you like more?”

“No, but thank you. Even I have my limits. As it is, I may be spending the night.”

“We have eight rooms in the place. You’re more than welcome to.”

The Truth Is In The Past

JIMMY LOVED SEAN AND SARA LIKE they were his children, and since he had none of his own, they received all of his parental devotion. He ended up spending the night at their house, but experienced a pang of regret upon waking. The regret not so much for messing up one of their guest beds, but for his cognac consumption.

He wasn
’t getting any younger, and every one of his joints reminded him of this today.
It was already nine and the pain pills had been in system for a few hours, but they did little to mute his aching bones.

To top it off, three coffees into his day, and one more would tip the scales from revving him up to draining him of energy. This was another thing he didn
’t have to worry about until he reached his fifties.

People talked about how everything went downhill in one’s forties
. The only reason for that assessment was, they hadn’t reached their fifties. When they did, they’d realize those earlier years were a cakewalk by comparison.

He shut his office door and settled behind his desk with a big glass of water. He viewed it with suspicion as if it were out to get him. With a couple sips he
’d risk the need for a bathroom break. Getting older wasn’t always fun, but even with all the complaints, it was far better than the alternative.

He had already put in the request for the financial information on Nicole and Jerrod Hill. That would take a while to come back and, in the meantime, paperwork was piling up in his trays as if they served as a dumpsite for every report in the station. He
’d have to find time to work on some of those too, seeing as that’s what the city paid his salary for.

First, he
’d take a break. So what if the day was just beginning? There was a large portion of him that said they had closed this case on Jerrod Hill too soon. With the time and resources to back them, Sean and Sara had turned up more than his seasoned detectives on payroll had. Although, he knew his people weren’t to blame—the politics of the department were—but some things would never change. It required working within the confines and still getting the job done, which, to Jimmy, meant the meting out of justice, even with the odds against him.

He brought up the list of lawyers from the victim
’s firm and reviewed their backgrounds. He read their basic information and was about to give up on finding a connection with Andres Malone when he struck gold.

With the elation, a sickness fell heavy in his gut. He had failed the Hills by closing the case too soon. He picked up the phone and told Sean and Sara to get to the station right away.

Sara slipped into the chair across from Jimmy, and
Sean stood behind her, with his hands on her shoulders.

Jimmy tossed two files, facing them, on the desk. Sara lifted them and read the labels out loud.
“Dale Pittman and Andres Malone?”

“Yep. I circled the pertinents.”

Sara skimmed over the reports.
“They used to share the same address.”

Jimmy laid out the details.
“That’s right. Dale and Andres were step-brothers. For a period of time Dale’s dad and Andres’ mother were married.”

“There’s our connection,” Sean said.

“He got his own brother to do his dirty work.” Sara let out the conclusion on a sigh. She still didn’t think Andres had it in him to kill a man. There was just something about him. But the fact Pittman was a step-brother to Andres, even for a time, would instill loyalty and explain Andres’ refusal to disclose the identity of the other person involved.

“What about the Hills’ money?” Sean asked.

“Nothing yet, but I got the request in.”

“We’ve got to talk to Pittman.” Sara spoke the words, her focus not on anything in particular. After a few seconds she sensed Jimmy’s eyes searching for contact.

“Sara, I’m afraid things are getting out of control now.”

“Who are you to say that?” Sean took a step toward Jimmy’s desk.

“Who am I? I’m a police sergeant for one, Sean. Two, it’s not even like you’re licensed PIs.”

Sara angled her head.
“This isn’t what worries you.”

“You’re right. I don’t want anything to happen to you two. Besides this should become a police matter again at this point, and it needs to be handled by the proper authorities.”

Sara glanced down at the information on Dale Pittman.
“He lives in New York City. That is outside of your jurisdiction.”

“Doesn’t matter, if the man committed a murder in my city. You know that.”

“Please, let us handle this, Jimmy. We won’t let you down. You know you’ll have a heck of a time explaining why you were digging into this anyway.”

Her words hung in the air for a few seconds before she carried on with her line of thought.
“Besides, Pittman isn’t going to talk to you.”

“Because I’m a cop?”

Sara shook her head.
“No, because you’re a man.”

Sean, who was standing even to where Sara was sitting, faced her. Jimmy locked his attention on her too.