Dead or a lie, p.21
Dead or a Lie, page 21
Even with the doors wide open, the light didn’t seem to be enough. I looked around, lifting the cover on the first plastic bin. I looked inside and it looked to be filled with sand. I tried to lift it, but the bin must’ve weighed a hundred pounds. I tipped it over, and the sand poured out as it landed on the shed’s floor.
I lifted the cover on the next bin that was under it, and all that was inside was sand. I tipped it over and the sand poured out onto what I’d already dumped.
The Miami-Dade officer said, “This what you consider a hundred grand?”
I took the cover off the next bin and inside it, as with the other two, was nothing but sand. I dragged it out of the way, and under it was what looked like a small door cut out of the wooden floor. I glanced back at the two officers and knelt down, brushing away the sand and lifting the door.
Inside it were bundles wrapped in paper—the same bundles, or at least the same paper, as what Kathy had shown me at Save-More Storage. But there were only three of the bundles in the hole, all sealed and closed with multiple layers of clear packing tape. “Anyone have a knife?” I tossed the Miami-Dade officer one of the bundles, and stood, handing the other another to Cardwell. “I thought there’d be more than this.” I couldn’t explain why there wasn’t more money.
Both Cardwell and the other officer used a knife to cut open the packages, each holding up a bundle of cash.
“This doesn’t look like a hundred grand,” Cardwell said.
I stood, looking at what he had in his hand. “There was a lot more than this in that storage unit,” I said, looking down toward the hole in the floor.
“I’m sure Collins can tell you what happened to the rest of it,” I said. “There was at least a hundred or more I saw.”
I couldn’t really put my finger on why Helms would pull me in, looking for the cash, if he himself had it the whole time. Something didn’t add up.
I looked at the packaging it was in. “Maybe this money wasn’t from the same storage unit.”
I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and stepped outside to see who was calling. I didn’t recognize the number, but went ahead and answered: “Henry Walsh.”
There was a pause on the other end.
I said, “Hello?”
“Henry?”
I knew who it was right away and glanced over my shoulder at the two officers, watching me as if wondering what I was doing. I stepped away and whispered into the phone. “Kathy? Where the—”
“I’m okay,” she said. “I know you’d want to know that. I just wanted you to know… I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you. But you also need to believe me. This wasn’t always the plan.”
“You expect me to believe you?” I said.
She paused on the other end. “I hope you do.”
I still wasn’t convinced, but I knew I’d never know the whole story.
“You can tell the cops what you want,” she said. “They won’t find me.”
“Where are you?”
She didn’t answer, and by the time I looked at the screen, she’d already hung up without another word.
Chapter 34
We spent three more days in Miami until we were finally able to leave and get back to Fernandina Beach. Whether I’d have to go back as a witness was still up in the air, with the video Alex had shot being the damning evidence they needed.
It was early evening, and we were back at the marina with Billy and Raz.
For the entire eight-hour drive back from Miami, we discussed our immediate future. It included a change to our wedding plans, some thoughts about living in the house, and the boat.
The one thing I was sure of was that the thing that mattered most was Alex being by my side. As far as I was concerned, nothing would ever get in the way of that. And I’d do everything possible to keep it that way. Everything else around us, outside of Raz, our handful of close friends, especially Billy and, of course, family, was just filler for what life was all about.
It seemed to be more humid in Jacksonville than it was in Miami. But with the sun already down, the temperature was comfortable. Of course, I could complain about it, but I didn’t want to. The thing is, a lot of what I worried about never seemed to matter much in the big scheme of things. Especially not when I was right where I was supposed to be, surrounded by the only people—and dog—I needed around me.
Billy had brought some food from the restaurant, and Alex played Elvis Costello through the speakers I bought for the boat. One thing I learned by meeting Joe Sheldon, with his collection of records, was music was something I wanted more of in my life. I wasn’t about to go out and start buying vinyl records, but I was going to learn to appreciate what music did for me.
Billy sipped the iced tea Alex had made. He said, “I don’t know if you want to talk about all that happened down there, but I’m still trying to understand it all.”
“There’s a lot they still need to unfold,” I said.
“But the detective confessed, didn’t she?”
“Apparently. But whether or not she’s told nothing but the truth is another question. She brought a few others with her, including not only the owner of the garbage company—”
“Canzano?” Billy said, not one for forgetting a name.
“Yeah, but also the owner of the storage facility. It seemed there were a lot of hands grabbing for a piece of the pie, including a half dozen cops—active and retired—working with Helms and Collins.”
“Wow,” Billy said. “Only in Miami.”
I laughed. “I wouldn’t say that’s true, but…”
“But I don’t understand why she had to kill those people.”
“Well,” I said. “That’s the part that isn’t exactly clear. She claims she didn’t like the way Jillian was starting to talk, once Jillian found out Detective Collins was involved. She claimed Jillian had gotten scared, and that Jillian had put everything at risk.”
Billy said, “I would think she’d consider theft, especially for an officer of the law, to be somewhat risky.” He got up from his chair and walked to the edge of the dock.
Alex said, “She gets a good lawyer, I wouldn’t be surprised if the jury’s somewhat sympathetic to her reason for doing it all in the first place.”
“So murder, because your husband was dying of cancer, is an excusable offense now?” Billy said.
“No, I’m not saying she’ll get away with it,” Alex said. “But all it takes is a good lawyer and a juror or two who’ve dealt with insurance companies not willing to pay up, or someone who’s been sick and couldn’t afford the treatment…”
“I still feel there was more to it,” I said. “I mean, her motive. Maybe we’re never going to know. A supposed good cop like that, turns into a complete psycho.”
Alex looked at me with a gentle grin. “Some people will do anything for love.”
We all sat quiet for a couple of moments, taking in an evening by the boat that was turning out to be a pretty nice night. It was the first time I’d felt somewhat relaxed in a while.
Billy looked at me and said, “I’m almost afraid to ask, but are you concerned at all about this Canzano guy? Don’t you think he’s going to blame you, for bringing the whole thing down? I’m just not sure he sounds like the kind of guy who’d be willing to forgive. And if he happens to skate…”
I could feel Alex watching me. We’d discussed it enough on the ride back, and I tried to tell her not to worry. But she’d brought it up a handful of times since we’d gotten back.
I stood up from the chair and stretched, then stepped up onto my boat. “I’m not the one who told the police he was involved. That’s for him and Collins to deal with. He’s going to be doing some time, unless his lawyers get him off.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Billy said.
I leaned with my hands on the edge of the boat, looking down at him and Alex. I shook my head with confidence. “I’m not concerned. I’d like to think he knows the deal. The money’s gone. Kathy’s husband’s dead. I wouldn’t be surprised she’s already out of the country.”
“It doesn’t sound to me there’s enough money for her to disappear for good,” Billy said.
“There was at least a hundred grand in the storage unit. The money at Detective Helms’ place was from another job, according to Collins, so as far as I know, Kathy has plenty. At least for a while.”
Alex laughed. “And she thought she knew him well enough he’d help her sneak that money out of there.”
The thing was, there was a time I might have. After I left my job in Rhode Island and all the drinking I’d been doing, at one point I was bitter enough about the law and the way things fell apart that I could have easily gone in the opposite direction from where I ended up.
I always wondered if I hadn’t met Alex when I had, or if I hadn’t been given a chance as director of security for the Sharks baseball team, what my life would have turned out like.
“So, now what?” Billy said, standing on the dock looking up at me on the boat. “This is probably the tenth time I’ve heard you say you might be done with the private eye business. But for some reason, I can’t seem to believe you.”
I smiled. “Maybe when we get back, I’ll come work behind the bar.” I glanced at Alex, who sat in her chair with her eyes out somewhere else, her gaze toward the river and the glow of the moon shining over it. She wasn’t ready to believe me either.
“When do you leave?” he said.
“Thursday,” I said, looking around the boat. We’d already loaded it up with whatever we thought we’d need for the trip, which wasn’t much. Raz was in his bed on the boat’s deck, chin on his paws, his favorite toy next to him as he looked up at me. “You ready for this, Raz?”
He lifted his head, but eased it back down.
“When was the last time you even took the boat out?” Billy said. “You sure you know what you’re doing?” He laughed.
I shook my head. “No, I’m not sure. It’s been a year, I’d say. Maybe even a couple of summers ago.”
“And you still don’t know where you’re going?” he said. He looked from me to Alex.
“I’m not sure it matters,” I said.
Alex smiled at me. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
Ready for another mystery adventure? Jump back in time with Jake Horn, Private Investigator, to 1978 Boston, Massachusetts. Murder at Morrissey Motel is the first of two books in the newest series by Gregory Payette. Learn more by visiting GregoryPayette.com.
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HENRY WALSH MYSTERIES
Dead at Third
The Last Ride
The Crystal Pelican
The Night the Music Died
Dead Men Don’t Smile
Dead in the Creek
Dropped Dead
Dead Luck
A Shot in the Dark
Dead or a Lie
JOE SHELDON SERIES
Play It Cool
Play It Again
Play It Down
U.S. MARSHAL CHARLIE HARLOW
Shake the Trees
Trackdown
JAKE HORN MYSTERIES
Murder at Morrissey Motel
Body on the Beach
STANDALONES/Crime
Biscayne Boogie
Tell Them I’m Dead
Drag the Man Down
Half Cocked
Danny Womack’s .38
Gregory Payette, Dead or a Lie
