The Equalizer (23 page)

Chapter 31

A
light was on at Naomi’s
house. Now was as good a time as any. I knocked on her door and was relieved when I didn’t get an answer. But just as I took a step down, the door swung open.

“Cal?”

“Oh, hi,” I said.

“Come on in,” she said, seeming pleased to see me.

I followed her into her living room and she offered me a drink.

“Ah, no, thanks.”

“I’m so glad you stopped by.”

“I’m just here to ask you some questions.”

Her face dropped. “Oh, okay. I used to think you were a laid-back type guy, but you’re really not. Your mind is always on the job, isn’t it?”

“Pretty much.”

“Mind if I pour myself a glass of wine while we talk? Had a rough day. Budget cut-backs.”

“Always tough, I’m sure.”

I took a seat at one end of the sofa and she returned with her wine and asked if I was sure I didn’t want one. Again, I declined. She sat next to me and put her hand on my thigh. I should have chosen the chair.

“Well, what is it you have to ask me?” she said, with a slight smile.

I leaned forward and put my elbows on my knees. She responded by removing her hand. I scratched a non-existent itch on my forehead, looked down, then turned and looked directly into her eyes. “Did your mom bequeath anything to St. Stephen’s?”

At first she looked taken aback—then nodded. “Yes. Why?”

“Were you aware she was doing that?”

She took a large gulp of her wine, sat back, and shook her head. “No, that was a surprise. Why?”

“How did you feel about it?”

“At first it upset me, but then I came to realize she could do anything with her money that she wanted.”

“How much did she give?”

She picked at an imaginary piece of lint off her sleeve. “Two hundred thousand dollars.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” She nodded and took another sip.

“Was there anything left for you?”

“This house, which was paid for—and enough to cover her expenses and medical bills.”

“Shit, I’d have been pretty pissed.”

“What’s your point?”

“It’d be upsetting, is all. Do you know who talked her into it?”

“I’m guessing either Ted Kohler or Father Moran—both visited her.”

“I’m told Ted was very persuasive.”

“Must have been because I never thought of Mom as a pushover. You sure you don’t want a drink?”

“No. Have you done anything about it legally?”

“I doubt there’s any use.”

“Gus Taylor contesting his dad’s will. He lost the whole farm. Couldn’t hurt to try, could it?

“I don’t want to.”

“Why not?” I asked incredulously.

She looked annoyed. “Because it was her wish to give the money to the church. You sound like Jeremy. He wouldn’t drop it either. Now, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t it work out between us? Was it because of the kids?”

“I heard you didn’t want the divorce.”

She looked shocked. “Who told you that?”

“Jeremy. I ran into him the day after we’d been together and he said you asked him if he really wanted you to sign the divorce papers?”

She made a scoffing sound. “That was
his
interpretation. I reminded him the divorce was
his
idea—and not to forget that. No, I made my decision when I realized he had big plans for my inheritance and wanted out when the money wasn’t there.”

“Nice guy.”

“Not so much. At first, I was devastated, but now that he’s actually out of my life, I’m much happier. He’s an angry man and that rubs off.”

“I suppose it does. Naomi, I need to clarify something: I also felt you put me off—more than once.”

“Because I wanted to wait to introduce you to my kids until we had been together a while—I don’t want them to get attached to a man if the relationship isn’t going to last.” She leaned into me. “Cal, I really like you. I hope you’re trying to tell me you want to see me again.”

“One word—Troy.”

“I only started seeing him because I knew you were with Victoria,” she said, and began to cry. I put my arm around her only to offer comfort when at that precise moment Troy burst into the room. We moved apart. I knew he would assume something was going on—especially when he saw Naomi wipe tears from her eyes.

“What the hell is this?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Cal was just asking me some questions about Gus Taylor.”

“You are fucking
crying
about Gus Taylor? Do you think I’m stupid?” he said.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds. See you tomorrow, Troy.”

I half expected to be shot in the back as I was leaving. Naomi is one confused cookie. I’d have to set her straight and soon.

Chapter 32

DAY TWENTY

I
’d slept poorly and feeling
damn grumpy Thursday morning as I went in to work—and ready for Troy’s tirade. However, he came in acting as if nothing had happened. He said he’d spoken with Phillip Warner and Max Becker would not be giving any additional statements about Victoria or anything else. Although I intended on mentioning Naomi mother’s will, I put it off to get a jolt of caffeine in my system. When I reentered the office, he was walking out. He told me was going to be interviewing Kohler’s clients. He spent the rest of the day out of the office. I spent mine on the phone and computer looking into Kohler’s other charitable associations. Nothing and no one stood out as contentious or murderous.

I left work earlier than usual, about five o’clock. I stopped at the Save Rite deli counter to pick up a chicken potpie, then the liquor store—as I was entering, I was surprised to see Adriana Valero leaving.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Not even a hello?”

“Sorry. Hello. What are you doing here?”

“You’re in your direct mode, aren’t you? We’re here for the Warners’ twenty-fifth wedding anniversary party.”

“Is Victoria attending?”

She looked amused. “No, I’m sure not.”

“Where is she these days?”

“I’m not privy to that information. I assume it’s because they think I would tell
you
—which I would, if you asked.”

“Nice to know. If you do find out any information, let me know.” I handed her my card.

She took it and said, “Weird, it’s come to this.”

“So how was your honeymoon?”

She gave me a forced smile. “It was fine. You look tired.”

“You look beautiful, as always.”

The compliment seemed to slide off like water. “Well, I’d better run. I just stopped to pick up some champaign.”

“Where are you staying?”

“At the Rivers Inn. That’s where the celebration dinner is as well, but we’re having them up to the suite for a little pre-celebration.”

I nodded. “Sounds like a hoot.”

She gave me one of her little airy laughs and touched my arm. It was like a current flowing between us—but maybe I was the only one who felt it.

“Good seeing you,” she said.

“Adriana, you handled wills when you were with Warner. Right?”

“You know I did.”

“Were there any issues when someone changed their beneficiary to St. Stephen’s? Like adult children upset when they found out their parents changed the will without their knowledge?”

“You know I can’t talk about clients.”

“You could give me a nod if I mention a name . . .”

“No, Cal, I can’t. I have to go,” she said started walking off.

“Be careful,” I said after her.

She turned and shot me a disgusted look. “Now why would you say that?” she asked.

“Because the attorney who made the changes could be in danger,”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

I shrugged. “Just saying.”

Bullet was always
at the door when I come in, but tonight he wasn’t. I assumed Larry had him. It was abnormally dark in the room. Then I realized the blinds were pulled in the kitchen and living room. I distinctly remember opening them before I left this morning. Alarm washed through me. I drew my weapon and moved slowly into the kitchen. I grabbed a flashlight from my cabinet and held it above my gun as I traveled around the corner. I could see a dark figure sitting in my recliner.

“Get down on the floor, now!” I yelled.

“Oh relax, Sheehan,” said the figure. I recognized the voice.

I flipped on the lights and went around the corner still aiming my weapon.

“Troy, what the hell are you doing here?

“For fuck sake, put the weapon down. Little too jumpy, aren’t you?”

“You’re damn right, I’m jumpy, when someone gained access into my apartment. Lucky I held back on the trigger. How the hell did you get in, anyway?”

“Larry.” Bullet sat at Troy’s side gnawing on a real beef bone and still hadn’t bothered to get up to say hello.

“I don’t give my dog real bones,” I said. “They aren’t good for him.”

“Sure likes ’em, though.”

“What’re you doing here?”

“Came to chat about why you’re sniffing around Naomi again.”

“I’m just investigating where the clues take me.”

“What clues?”

“Kohler, under the direction of Father Moran, preyed on vulnerable parishioners—the elderly, the dying. Encouraged them to change their beneficiaries to St. Stephens. Most families never knew until the will was read. Naomi’s mother willed a bundle. It’s motive.”

He pointed at me as he spoke angrily. “That’s all bullshit and you know it.”

“I’m just running down the list. I had to talk to her like everybody else. Gus Taylor could be our guy, but I have no proof and because he’s taking legal action, I tend to doubt he’s responsible.”

“She told me about her mom leaving money to the church one of the first times we were together. She was disappointed but she’s okay with it. No, this is all about revenge. I have Naomi. You have nobody. You’re trying to ruin it for us.”

“I’m only trying to solve the case,” I said, trying to remain composed.

“Your thinking is remarkably flawed. What does anyone get for shooting Kohler? Not a damn thing. Stupid theory. Cal, don’t make a fool of yourself and the department by playing
Miami Vice
or
Conspiracy Theory
or whatever the hell you’re doing.”

I stared him down. His attempt at humiliation only fired up my defensive instincts.

“Troy, we’re through here. In the future I’d be careful about letting yourself into my apartment . . . with me being so jumpy and all . . . I may just shoot the intruder in my apartment.”

Troy came in so close I could smell his beer breath, “Don’t you—ever—threaten me—again. Why you’re perceived as the golden boy is beyond me.” He left, slamming the door behind him.

I wrestled the bone from Bullet’s mouth and threw it at the door, then raced the dog to retrieve it. The very next thing I did was phone Larry to tell him never to let anyone into my apartment ever again unless the smell of death was coming from inside.

That night as sleep evaded me, my thoughts ricocheting between Adriana, Troy and Naomi, Victoria—and Ted Kohler’s role in St. Stephen’s campaign to obtain parishioner’s inheritances. I got up and watched television on the couch and fell asleep watching an old Betty Davis movie.

Chapter 33

DAY TWENTY-ONE

F
irst thing Friday morning, I
drove to the Parks Department to have a talk with Naomi.

Joyce greeted me with a big smile. “Hi there, Cal.”

“Naomi in?”

“No,” she said.

“Tell her I stopped by and to give me a call.”

Then I drove directly to the department and found Ralph in the sheriff’s office. He took one look at me and said, “You look like hell.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“You’re not sleeping?”

I told him what I’d discovered about Ted Kohler and Troy’s surprise visit, leaving out a few details.

“’Splain yourself, Lucy.”

“You may not know I had a few dates with Naomi, and now Troy is hot and heavy with her. He seems to think my questioning her is about me getting some kind of revenge—because I picked Victoria instead of Naomi.”

Ralph shook his head. “Hell, this seems like a mating battle to me. Personally, I think you both better cool it with Naomi. Here have a chocolate croissant,” Ralph said, pushing a white bag in my direction.

“I thought you were on a diet.”

“I’m having a minor-relapse. I’ll start again Monday.”

I hadn’t thought to eat breakfast, so I grabbed a croissant and poured myself a cup of coffee from Ralph’s pot into a Styrofoam cup.

“Naomi said Jeremy had big plans for her mother’s inheritance—he asked for the divorce after the will was read.”

“So what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking Jeremy Moberg had money problems.”

“A lot of people do these days.”

Just then Troy bounded in. “This asshole telling you about his fucked up theory?”

“Sit,” Ralph demanded.

Troy pulled a chair from the side of the room and sat on it backwards—cool dude that he was.

“You need to turn your baseball cap backasswards, too,” I said.

“Fuck you,” Troy answered.

“What this investigative team doesn’t need is you two going at each other like a couple of kids on the schoolyard. If you can’t control yourselves, then I’m gonna have to take the case over, and frankly, I don’t have time.”

“I can do it alone,” Troy said. “Numb Nut here doesn’t know what he’s doing anyway.”

Ralph put his hand up. “Shut up, the both of you, and get back to focusing on the case. Cal, tell Troy what you’ve learned.”

Troy looked at Ralph and took a deep breath looking straight ahead, face scrunched in defiance.

“I know the St. Stephen’s connection is a long shot, but we’ve hit a wall here. I found out there are a number of people who left land or money to the church.”

Troy sputtered out, “So let’s investigate
every
family member who lost out because of Kohler.”

“I am.”

“He started yesterday,” Ralph said.

I lifted my arms in submission. “Hey, you can double check my work.”

Ralph gave me the hand, so I shut up. “Jeremy and Naomi may have money problems,” he said.

“They do. She’s told me all about it . . . she also told me Jeremy had trouble letting the will thing go.” Troy said.

Ralph had me recap what I’d learned about everyone on the list. Then he said, “Now, you two are going to have to put your heads together to figure out the best way to approach this, and before either one of you do anything, I want you to run it by me.”

Troy let out a sound of frustration and said, “Oh for the . . .”

“Hear me?” Ralph said sternly.

“Yes, sir,” I said.

Troy mumbled, and we exited Ralph’s office. I told Troy I had something to take care of.

“Take care of this,” he said giving me the finger.

“Back at cha,” I said, refraining from returning the gesture. I went into the lobby and called Adriana.

After she answered I said. “It’s me. What are you doing right now?”

“Why?”

“Come to Birch County Park South and park in the lot by the playground. I’ll be in a department Explorer.”

She hesitated but then said, “Give me a half hour.”

Forty minutes later
she drove up in a red BMW convertible with the top up. I turned off my phone ringer.

“Nice car,” I said as she climbed in the front seat.

“My wedding present.”

“Whoops. I never did buy you a present. How about a case of Viagra?””

“Ha, ha. Now what’s this all about?”

“I’ve discovered that Ted Kohler was instrumental in getting parishioners at St. Stephen’s to change their wills on their deathbeds, giving everything to the church. Most of the time the families didn’t know and were counting on the inheritance.”

Adriana examined her perfect manicure.

I said, “The biggest amounts were from Norm Taylor and Neva Hunt.”

She sighed deeply and looked out the window. “I was the one who had to break it to both Gus and Naomi.”

“And were you the one who changed the wills?”

She looked back at me and turned her body to face me. “Yes, but in both cases they got something: Naomi got her mom’s house free and clear and Gus got the house, farm buildings and the land they were on.”

“That seemed fair to you?”

“Cal, I don’t tell clients what to put in their wills, but I always ask whether they are sure they want to make the changes.”

“You sound defensive. Look, I’m not blaming you. When did Neva change hers?”

“About a month before she died. Ted Kohler called and said he’d just been visiting with Neva Hunt and she asked him to contact me because she wanted to update her will. She was too ill to come in so I met with her at her house.”

“Was Kohler present?”

“No, Nancy Martin, Neva’s nurse was.”

“What were the Mobergs’ reactions when they found out?”

“Naomi looked stunned but she remained calm—however, Jeremy was livid. I’ll never forget his reaction. His face turned this bright pink—he picked up my crystal paperweight and threw it across the room.”

“Anything said?”

“He sort of made a threat.”

“Like?”

“Like I’d regret what I’d done.”

“And you didn’t take that seriously?”

“You know Jeremy’s a hot head—remember how he used to throw his golf clubs when he had a bad shot? I assumed he’d get over it quickly like he did in golf.”

“Okay. Was Gus as upset when he got the news?”

“After the shock settled in, the first thing out of his mouth was, ‘I’m contesting this will.’ I believe Virgil Dodge is handling the legal case.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome. You heard none of this from me.”

“Not a word.”

She left leaned over and kissed me softly on the lips, leading to another—a passionate kiss that was like a sip of water to a man dying of thirst. We parted. She touched my cheek, then exited the car. I watched her drive away and wondered why I had ever let her go. I lay my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes willing the ache to go away. When I’d experienced enough self-pity, I opened my eyes, picked up my phone and turned the ringer back on.

I had a voice message
from Naomi:
Hi, Cal. I heard you stopped by this morning. I know Troy went to see you last night. Sorry about that. Um . . . I think he knows how I feel about you . . . and I’m still hoping we can work this out. Give me a call.

Terrific.

I went back to the office and told Ralph and Troy what Adriana had told me. Troy ran a credit check on the Mobergs, while Ralph went to see Father Moran. The priest admitted to him that Jeremy had come by to see him about his mother-in-law’s will and was very angry.

When Ralph came back in he said, “Bring Jeremy in.”

“First, I think we talk to Tiffany Howard, his live-in girlfriend. See if we get inconsistencies in their stories,” I said.

“Good thinking,” Ralph said.

Troy screwed up his nose.