A Body to Spare (The Odelia Grey Mysteries) (5 page)

“Outstanding,” Steele said, not in his usual snarky tone but with pleased enthusiasm. Again Jill, Jolene, and I stared at each other in confusion and surprise.

“Well, I’m off,” Steele announced. “Michelle and I have reservations at this great little bistro tonight. You guys be good and stay out of trouble, at least until I get back next Wednesday.” He paused. “That’s an order.” Then he laughed and was gone.

I picked up my mug and took a drink. My coffee was now cold, but I didn’t care. In all the years I’ve worked with Mike Steele, I’ve never heard him so chipper and, well, happy.

“Do you think he fell while skiing and bumped his head?” Jolene asked.

“He’s getting bumped, all right,” Jill said with another smirk, “but it’s not on the ski slopes.”

Our little coffee klatch was disbanding when my phone rang again. “Maybe Steele came to his senses,” Jolene said, “and remembered that he forgot to abuse us.”

I looked at the display on my phone. “Nope, it’s Zee Washington. Could you guys shut my door when you leave? I need to take this.”

“Didn’t you say her husband represented you yesterday?” asked Jolene.

“Yes,” I answered, offering nothing more.

As soon as they were gone and my door was securely shut, I answered the phone. “Hi,” I said to my best friend. “I’m surprised you waited this long to call.” It was true. I had expected Zee, upset with my latest body find, to be on the phone to me last night.

“Seth ordered me to give you some time before I called,” Zee told me. “Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t call me first.” I could tell she was a bit hurt.

“I just couldn’t talk about it anymore yesterday, Zee. I figured Seth would fill you in. In fact, it was Greg who called Seth last night with our latest finding.” It was true. After dinner, Greg had called Seth and told him about the missing Zach Finch. Seth had agreed with our theory that the cops probably already knew about it and that it was why the feds were involved.

“Seth didn’t tell me much, Odelia,” Zee said, her voice running out of patience. “In fact, he didn’t tell me anything about meeting you at the police station yesterday until I saw the news with you and your car on it. There you were, plain as day, on your butt in the water in front of a body.” Zee and Seth must have watched the same newscast we did. “Then,” she continued, still miffed, “he reluctantly explained that he represented you in the questioning yesterday. He claimed attorney-client privilege.”

“He’s right about that,” I said with caution. Steele might have had a change of cranky personality, but I wasn’t banking on Zee doing the same. I knew her too well. She was mad that she was in the dark about what was going on, hurt that I didn’t tell her myself, and worried about my safety. It was a trifecta of emotions that would be parlayed into an outpouring of motherly lecturing and loving hostility.

“But it’s about
you
, Odelia,” she complained. “Since when do we have secrets?”

“Since never, Zee,” I assured her. “But it wasn’t Seth’s place to tell you since he was involved with my representation. It was mine, and I just hadn’t gotten to it yet. I was going to call you this morning after getting to work, but I was waylaid by Jill and Jolene, who had both seen the news and recognized my car.” I paused. “So now that I have you on the phone, let’s talk about it.” I told her everything I’d just told Jill and Jolene, thinking I should have called Zee and conferenced her in to save time. The only difference in my narrative was that I did tell Zee about the police’s suspicion about Willie and Elaine.

“The police have been crawling all over our garage and carport,” I told her. “They’re looking for evidence that points to the body being put in the trunk at the house—maybe in the middle of the night. They’ve also gone all through the house this morning looking for evidence that Zach was ever in our place. Nothing like having your home torn apart by cops to start your day. Thankfully, Cruz is there today putting everything back together, because I was about to lose my mind.” Cruz Valenz is our housekeeper—a woman in her sixties who brought order to our house on a weekly basis. She also worked for Steele and occasionally for my mother. Before I left for work, I’d slipped a little extra cash into Cruz’s weekly pay. Just thinking about the police and my encounter with them yesterday and this morning made me want to dive face-first into the basket of scones like I was in a county fair’s pie-eating contest.

“But wouldn’t Wainwright have heard the creeps if they put the body in the trunk at night?” Zee asked.

“You’d think,” I said, “but the dog is getting old. He’s pushing fifteen. According to the vet, Wainwright is in his eighties in
people
years. Greg and I have both noticed Wainwright’s hearing isn’t the best anymore; nor is his eyesight. If the people who stashed the body were very quiet, they wouldn’t have roused Wainwright if he was in the house and asleep in our room.” I paused to catch my breath—not that talking was wearing me out, but the idea of Wainwright getting old and dying was crushing the air out of me. We’d lost our cat Seamus just over a year ago. He was also old and had suffered a stroke. Losing Wainwright would kill Greg, just as losing Seamus had nearly done me in. After the last vet visit, Greg and I talked about the inevitability of losing Wainwright and whether or not Greg should get a replacement dog now, knowing the length of time it would take to train one properly. Wainwright was more than a pet and Greg’s constant companion; he was also a service dog trained to protect Greg in sketchy situations. For now the animal was in good shape for his age, but he definitely was slowing down.

“So what are you going to do now?” Zee asked. “With the FBI involved, this is a whole different kettle of fish. I hope you know that?”

I shrugged as if she could see me. “I do, Zee. Trust me.”

“Knowing the danger and seriousness has never stopped you before, Odelia.” Zee was being a normal worried mother while my own mother wanted to play Sherlock Holmes, regardless of the danger.

“Clark is looking into a few things for me,” I told her, “and I’m sure Dev will have some choice words of caution tonight. We’re having dinner with him.” I paused, wondering if I should spill the beans about Dev, then decided what was the harm. It seemed everyone was finding out one way or another through the grapevine. “Dev is retiring from the police force.”

“Seth did tell me that much,” Zee said, still sounding a bit peeved about being the last in the information chain. I’d forgotten I’d told Seth while we were at the Long Beach police station. “Do you know what his plans are for retirement?”

“Not yet,” I answered, “but I’m sure he’ll tell us tonight.”

Through the phone I heard Zee’s throaty, rich laugh. After her grumpiness, it was like music played in a tunnel lined with mahogany. “Maybe he could become a PI and work just for you,” she suggested. “You could keep him busy.”

“Cute, but I already have Clark working that end.” It was meant as a joke but had a definite ring of truth to it. “I’ll let you know what his plans are if he decides to tell us.”

“Hmm,” hummed Zee on the other end. It was one of the things she did when thinking out loud. “I’m wondering if he’ll finally join Beverly. Didn’t she move to Seattle?”

Zee was referring to Dev’s old girlfriend. Just over a year ago she’d gotten a new job in Seattle and moved there. She’d asked Dev to go with her but he’d declined, citing his job and not wanting to leave his daughter and her family. They had broken up. “I don’t know,” I answered. “I think that’s over, and it would mean leaving his grandchildren.”

“I know how that is,” noted Zee with sadness. “Ever since Hannah and Rob announced at Christmas that they were pregnant, all I can think about is that baby being in New York while I’m here.”

I chuckled. Much to Zee’s grief, her son-in-law’s work took them around the country. Recently they’d landed on Long Island when Rob’s company sent him to their office in New York City. “Something tells me you’ll be racking up frequent flyer miles this year.”

“That’s exactly what Seth said.” Zee chuckled. “But you know it’s going to kill me. With Jacob gone off to college and his sister in New York, I’m lost. I’m not cut out to be an empty nester, Odelia.”

I knew it well enough since Zee poured a lot of her maternal energy out on her friends now, including me—especially me. “You’ll be fine, Zee,” I assured her. “You can travel more and do the things you’ve always wanted to do.”

“Hmm,” she said again, but this time it wasn’t her thinking hum but her skeptical grunt—another tune I was familiar with up close and personal. Being put out to pasture was not going to be easy for this supermom.

“In the meantime,” I told her, returning to the topic of the dead body, which seemed an easier problem at the moment, “Greg and I are squeezing every inch of our brains trying to remember anything and anyone we’ve crossed paths with who might have a connection to this, but so far nothing.”

“Are you sure it’s not one of Elaine’s…um…projects?” Zee asked.

“She’s smarter than that,” I said, meaning it. “Elaine knows the cops are aware that we have a connection. Leaving that body in my trunk would immediately put the spotlight on her, and that’s the last thing she and her business would want. If there’s one thing the police, Clark, and Greg and I all agree on, it’s this.” I paused. “It would be more likely that someone is trying to flush out either her or Willie with this action, but even that isn’t a good fit to my thinking. But either way, we’re looking into all angles.”

“Can you get in touch with Willie to ask him?” Zee asked. Zee didn’t know about Clark’s connection to Willie’s legitimate business, and neither did Seth—at least that we knew of. They just knew that Clark headed up security for a company in Arizona, and Greg and I agreed on keeping them in the dark about it. It was one lie, or careful omission, I didn’t feel guilty about.

“We’re trying, but that’s pretty hit or miss,” I said. “Especially with the cops watching me so closely now.”

“Good,” Zee said with such bluntness that I knew without seeing it that a determined jerk of her chin went along with the statement. “Maybe with the police keeping such a tight rein on you, you’ll stay out of trouble this time.”

I groaned with frustration. “I didn’t ask for this, Zee. Trouble came to me, packed nice and neat in the trunk of my car along with a calling card.”

“And it’s an invitation you don’t need to accept, Odelia.”

I wasn’t going to win this battle. I could argue with Zee all day long about how, in spite of her warnings, she liked to tag along on some of my fact-finding missions, but I knew it would only net me more argument. I could dispute and manipulate facts and situations with the best of them, but Zee was at the top of the class. It was one of her supermom talents. She would have made a great litigator. So instead of responding, I stuffed my mouth with a big bite of scone and mumbled something about having to get back to work.

six

“I’m guessing you folks
have already heard the news,” Dev said after our drink order was taken by our waiter. “I know you’ve had another run-in with Andrea Fehring.” He was sitting across the table from me and looked directly into my eyes when he said the last bit. His face showed no emotion—not sad, amused, angry, or even concerned. It was a craggy, blank canvas.

“Just to clarify, Dev, it was not a run-in.” I stared right back at him as I spoke. “I was simply brought in for questioning in a matter.”

This time Dev’s face didn’t remain expressionless. It broke into cracks and crevices as he tilted his head back and laughed. The people at the next table glanced over at the noise. On either side of me, Clark and Greg were also chuckling. I’m sure glad they found my situation so funny, because I sure didn’t.

“Boy, I’m sure gonna miss you guys,” Dev said as he wiped a tear from his left eye. The tear, I’m sure, came from his laughter, not my predicament or his pending news. “You’ve certainly made these last several years interesting.” He stopped laughing, and his face fell back into place and returned to somber. “Seriously, Odelia, and you too, Greg, even though there were times I came close to locking you both up and have lost sleep over your escapades more than once or twice, I have treasured every day of our friendship.”

“You make it sound like you’re dying, not retiring, Dev,” Greg said. “Just because you won’t be a cop doesn’t mean we won’t need or want you in our lives.”

“Yeah, about that,” Dev began just as the waiter returned with our drinks—beer for both Dev and Greg, a glass of wine for me, and club soda for Clark. The waiter served us our drinks and asked if we were ready to order. Dev waved him off, asking if we could have a few minutes. When the waiter retreated, Dev said, “As you know, I’m retiring. It’s happening at the end of this month.”

“What are you going to do, Dev?” Greg asked.

Instead of answering, Dev glanced at Clark. “You didn’t tell them?”

“Had to leave something for you to do, didn’t I?” answered Clark with a half grin.

Dev took a long pull from his beer, then said, “I’m moving to Seattle to be with Bev. We’re getting back together.”

I shifted in my seat as the news hit me like an unexpected spray of cold water. I liked Bev a lot, and she and Dev seemed good together, but I didn’t want to lose Dev to the northwest. Bev had relocated because of a great job offer. She and I sometimes emailed each other, and I could tell from our spotty correspondence that she was in love with both her new position and the area. Wanting Dev to stay was selfish of me. “What about your daughter and your grandchildren?” I asked.

“My daughter’s on board with the plan, even if she’s not thrilled by it,” Dev answered honestly. I knew how his daughter felt because I was in the same camp. “It’s just a short plane ride away,” he continued by way of offering assurance. “It’s not like I’m moving to Siberia. And I think a change of scenery would do me good.”

“What about your house?” Clark asked.

“With the market still soft, I’ve decided to rent it out for the time being. My daughter will keep watch on it for me. We found someone—a friend of hers who got transferred by his company and needs a place for his family by the end of the month. My stuff’s almost packed up, and most will go into storage. I’ll stay with my daughter until I leave, which will be the day after my last day on the job.”

“It’s all happening so fast,” I complained.

“Yeah,” Dev answered as if surprised himself. “As soon as I made the decision, everything fell into place. Guess that’s a good sign.” He didn’t sound one hundred percent sure to me, but again it could just be selfishness on my part making me see what I wanted to see. “I also didn’t want a big deal made of it.” He looked right at me when he spoke.

“Well,” added Greg, “if Seattle doesn’t work out for some reason, you’ll still have your house to come back to.”

“That’s what my daughter said.” Dev looked away, lost momentarily in his thoughts.

“So you’re going to be a man of leisure?” I asked. “That doesn’t sound like you.” Glancing again at my two sidekicks, I could see that they agreed with me.

Dev shrugged. “Guess I’m tired of chasing bad guys.” He jerked a thumb at Clark. “He knows what I’m talking about.”

“I do, Dev,” Clark confirmed with a knowing nod of his head. “But after a month you’re going to start getting antsy. Why do you think I went back to work?”

“Well, maybe I’ll find a sweet part-time gig in Seattle,” Dev said, but from the set of his jaw, I knew he wasn’t convinced himself.

“You mean like a security guard or a mall cop?” I asked, my voice filled with disbelief. “I can’t see you doing that for a minute. It would be a waste of talent.”

“Maybe I’ll become a Walmart greeter, Odelia,” Dev said with a half smile. “Who knows, I might look kind of spiffy in one of those vests.” Everyone laughed.

“I think you should be a PI,” Greg said, chiming in. He took a drink of his beer. “I could see that easily.”

Again Dev looked at Clark. “Does Willie Proctor have any legit businesses near Seattle? If he does, maybe you can put in a word for me.”

The table chat fell away as silence replaced it. Three pairs of eyes darted around the table while the fourth set watched with amusement. It was like we’d farted and Clark, Greg, and I were trying to figure out who should take the blame; no sense in all three of us being embarrassed. When the pinball of eyeballs stopped, everyone was looking at me. Guess I’m the stinkpot.

“How did you find out?” I asked Dev as I tapped the fingers of my right hand on my menu. A waiter went by balancing a huge tray of food trailing yummy smells. While I waited for Dev’s answer, I watched the waiter expertly thread his way through the busy restaurant with his burden, confident in his course. I would have dropped the tray for sure, covering at least six people with clam and marinara sauces.

Dev laughed and took a gulp of beer before answering. “I didn’t know for sure until just now. Thanks, Odelia, for confirming my suspicions.”

To my left, Greg swore softly under his breath. Clark joined in Dev’s laughter and held his glass of club soda up to him in salute. “No flies on you, Dev,” Clark said as Dev lightly clinked his beer glass against Clark’s icy tumbler.

“Come on now,” Dev said to the entire table. “I am a detective, after all. And a pretty good one, I might add. You were all just a little too secretive about Clark’s job, so I took a stab at my suspicions.”

“So are you going to interrogate Clark until he gives up Willie’s location?” I asked with concern.

“Go for it,” Clark said with a grin, “because I honestly have no idea where he is physically.”

Again, Dev laughed. “Bringing Proctor in would be a nice way to cap off my career, but I know he’s your friend and has helped you out of trouble on numerous occasions. He’s also paid back all the money he stole, so let the feds find him. Frankly, I don’t care. I just wanted you folks to know that I was on to you.” He took another sip of beer. “I have just shy of two weeks left on the job, and I intend to slide right through them by cleaning up old cases and completing reports. I swear, I’m going to shoot anyone who even thinks of committing a homicide in Newport Beach before I leave.”

I was going to point out the contradiction of his words, then thought better of it.

“Then it’s a good thing Odelia was in Long Beach when that body was found in her car,” my hubs said with a chuckle. “Better Fehring than you, right, Dev?”

“I’ll drink to that,” Dev said, taking another swig of beer. “Although what’s up with that?”

Our waiter returned and took our orders. We were at the Macaroni Grill in Seal Beach, a favorite restaurant for everyone at the table. Dev chose this specific location because it was convenient for us. After dinner, the plan was to head to our place for dessert and coffee. Little did I know that this might also be his going-away party.

Excusing myself from the table, I went to the ladies’ room and called Zee and told her what was happening. “So if you and Seth want to come by our place in about an hour or so, please do,” I told her. “It might be our last chance to say goodbye to Dev.”

I heard her say something to Seth. A few seconds later she returned to our call. “We’ll see you then,” she said. “Thanks for letting us know. We love Dev almost as much as you and Greg do. And don’t rush dinner. I’ll use my key and start the coffee when we get there. What else do you need?”

“Nothing,” I told her. “I pulled out the regular coffeemaker for tonight. It’s on the counter. There’s cheesecake and a fruit salad in the fridge.”

When I ended the call, I tried to think of others who might want to congratulate Dev and say goodbye. He may not want a big deal made about his retirement and move, but this wasn’t about him—it was about people who cared about him. He would just have to suck it up for an evening. I called Greg’s parents and Sally and Jill. All said they would be there. Jill said she’d bring something to add to the table; I didn’t argue. I’ll take her baked goods anytime they’re offered. It was too bad Steele and Mom weren’t available. After a short hesitation and a quick pee, I called Fehring.

“Odelia,” she said, answering on the second ring. “Don’t tell me: you’ve found another body, this time buried in your back yard.”

“Cute, Andrea, but no. This isn’t an official call, hence the use of your first name.” I paused, then jumped right into the purpose of my call. “Did you know that Dev is moving to Seattle in about two weeks?”

There was a long pause. “No, I didn’t. When did you find that out?”

“Just now. Greg and I are out to dinner with him. My brother’s here too. Dev just dropped the moving bomb on us.”

“Wow,” was all she said. “Is he getting back together with Beverly?”

“Yes.” I cut to the chase. “But here’s the thing.” Quickly, I told Fehring about the impromptu going-away party, and just as quickly she said she’d be there.

“Did you fall in?” Clark asked when I returned to the table.

Greg snorted. “You’ve been single too long, Clark. You never ask a woman that.” I gave my husband a peck on the cheek for being such a smart boy.

Shortly after I returned to the table, our salads were served. “We can fill you in, Dev, while we eat,” I told him. Our salad dishes were cleared and our entrees served by the time I finished telling Dev the details of finding Zach Finch and his background.

“I remember when that kid went missing,” Dev said with a shake of his head when I finished.

“I do too,” added Clark. “Every law enforcement agency in the nation was on the lookout for him. It’s always been assumed the kidnappers killed him after getting their payday.”

“The question is,” Dev said, a bite of spaghetti with Bolognese sauce dangling from his fork, “where has he been all this time?”

“And why was he dumped naked?” I asked, tossing my question out there for consideration along with Dev’s.

“The naked part could have something to do with him not being traced,” Clark explained to Greg and me while Dev nodded. “Clothing can sometimes be used to track someone’s last few locations through brands, fibers, and things like that, not to mention a catch-all for trace evidence from the murderer.”

“Tell me, Odelia,” Dev said. “Did you see any noticeable marks on the body?”

“You mean like bruises or stab wounds?” asked Greg.

“Yeah, those,” Dev clarified, still looking at me, “or maybe a tattoo.”

Greg dug out his cell phone. “Here’s the pic of the body that Grace sent me.” He handed his phone over to Dev, who examined it while he continued eating. Nothing like a dead body to spark an appetite. Made me wonder what went best with a corpse—red or white wine?

I closed my eyes to think about the brief glimpse I saw of Zach Finch, then shook my head. “I didn’t notice anything specific, but I wasn’t exactly given a chance to examine the body. I was in a lot of shock, and he was folded like an origami crane. I do remember his skin being very pale. And his hair was dishwater blond.”

“Wasn’t he grabbed in Illinois?” Dev aimed this next question at Clark as he handed the phone back to Greg.

“Yeah,” Clark confirmed. “I looked up the case last night. He disappeared after a football game at his high school.” We ate on autopilot while Clark gave us the rundown he’d found on the kidnapping. “According to reports, Zach went to the game with friends who were old enough to drive. Just a bunch of high school guys, no girls. They said they dropped him off at home after the game, but Zach’s parents claim he never came home that night.”

“But there was a ransom demand?” asked Greg.

“Yep,” said Clark after swallowing some eggplant parmesan. “The kidnappers demanded two million dollars. The whole thing was kept pretty quiet media-wise during that time. The parents paid the ransom, and the kid was never returned. That’s when the whole thing went public.”

“So who exactly are this kid’s parents?” I asked as I doodled in the sauce of my mushroom ravioli with the tines of my fork.

“His father is Alec Finch. He’s a big finance mogul. His company owns several mortgage companies, investment firms, stuff like that,” Clark said. “At the time of the kidnapping he headed an investment company that specialized in backing international construction, some of it questionable. One of the theories was that some thugs from overseas grabbed the kid, but that was never proved.” Clark wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Even with the two-million-dollar hit on the ransom and the economic downturn, it hasn’t slowed Finch down. He’s expanded his holdings over the years.”

“I think I’ve read about him in the
Wall Street Journal
or someplace like that,” said Greg. “He keeps a very low personal profile, doesn’t he?” He’d stopped shoveling chicken cannelloni into his mouth and was reaching for more bread. Generally, my husband keeps a sharp eye on his weight to make it easier for him to be more mobile. I knew that tonight’s feast would be paid for by extra time in the gym over the next few days. Greg had the discipline I lacked when it came to fitness, but he never got on my case about it. I thought about grabbing more bread but changed my mind. Extra exercise time wasn’t a price I was willing to pay, and there was dessert waiting at home.