Brutality (25 page)

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Authors: Ingrid Thoft

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Private Investigators, #Women Sleuths, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Crime Fiction, #Thrillers

BOOK: Brutality
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“Fine.”

Fina got a set of car keys from the head of security, then stopped by Scotty’s office. The client was a small woman embroiled in a personal injury case with some mafioso types. Fina understood why she might want protection, but it still felt like a waste of her time.

Muscle was easy to hire, but the brains that solved cases like Liz’s were harder to come by.


T
hat wasn’t so bad, was it?” Scotty asked. It was late afternoon, and they were at Bell Circle in Revere. The deposition had been completed without any physical violence, and the client had gotten a ride home with a muscular friend who looked like he could hold his own.

“It was fine,” Fina said. “It just wasn’t what I planned on doing today.”

“You could have said no to Dad,” Scotty ventured, smirking.

“Like you do?”

“It’s different for me,” he said. “We have a more complicated business arrangement.”

“Uh-huh. Did you know that Rand has a new girlfriend?” she asked her brother.

Scotty turned and looked at her, his eyes wide. “What? Really?”

“Yes.”

“Who told you that?”

“Who do you think?” Fina asked.

Scotty sighed. “Mom.”

“Of course. And he wants Haley to visit him over spring break.”

Scotty leaned over and adjusted the heat. “What did you say to that?” They were climbing the ramp toward the Tobin Bridge, the city coming into view before them.

“I haven’t said anything yet, but you can be damn sure it’s not going to happen.”

Scotty tapped the window lightly with his finger, but was quiet.

“Yes? You’d like to say something?” Fina asked.

“I just don’t know how much we’re going to be able to manage Rand.”

“I’m not suggesting we manage Rand. I’m suggesting we take care of his underage daughter.”

“I
am
taking care of his underage daughter, Fina. Remember?” Scotty said.

“Yes, I know, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that you and Patty have embraced her the way you have.”

“I love Haley,” he said, “but we weren’t planning on having four kids. Certainly not one who was handed to us as a teenager with a lot of baggage.”

“I know.” She nodded. “You guys have been amazing. I’m just suggesting that all of that love and hard work will be undermined if we allow Rand back in her life. We can’t let him do more damage than he already has.”

“I don’t disagree,” Scotty said as they flew through the E-Z Pass lane. “You’re supposed to slow down, you know.”

“Only if you’re a bad driver,” Fina responded, smiling.

A moment later, her nose perked up. “Do you smell that?” she asked Scotty.

He took a whiff and looked at her. “I think that’s smoke.”

The gears were just starting to turn in Fina’s head when a flame escaped from the hood of the car.

“Jesus Christ, Fina!” Scotty exclaimed.

“Shit!” She watched the fire escape from the hood and wend its way from the driver’s side to the passenger’s side. There was no place to pull over, no breakdown lane, so Fina put on the brakes and stopped, unleashing a tirade of angry horns and more screeching brakes. She grabbed the keys from the ignition. The hazard lights seemed unnecessary, given that the front of the SUV was fully engulfed.

“Get out, Scotty!” she yelled, flinging her door open.

“I can’t! We’re too close to the guardrail.” His face was a mask of panic.

Fina hopped out of her seat and reached back inside the car for him. She grabbed the collar of his coat and helped him scale the middle console between the seats. Scotty tumbled onto the pavement amid a cacophony of crackles, pops, and more honking horns. He started to run away from the car, but Fina ducked her head back in and grabbed his briefcase and her bag. She left her coat, which was just out of reach.

“What are you doing?” Scotty yelled at her when she caught up with him, twenty feet behind the engulfed SUV. “It’s going to explode!”

“No, it’s not,” Fina said, leaning over with her hands on her knees. She took a couple of deep breaths. “You watch too much TV.”

“I’m calling 911,” Scotty said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“I’m guessing somebody did already.”

“That’s what everyone assumes,” he said.

“They’ve called because it’s screwing up their commute,” Fina said. “If for no other reason.”

Scotty kept dialing.

“But knock yourself out,” Fina said. “Are you okay?”

“My chest hurts a little.”

“Probably from the smoke. Or you’re having a heart attack,” she said.

“Really, Fina?” He turned away from her. “Yes, hello, our car’s on fire,” he said into the phone.

A car moved by them at a fast clip, honking.

“Fuck you, too!” Fina called out after them. She started pacing in a small circle by the guardrail.

“You guys okay?” A worker from one of the tollbooths was jogging toward them, fire extinguisher in hand. Another motorist had stopped and also asked if they were hurt.

“We’re fine. Here, let me.” Fina took the red canister from the toll worker and approached the car. She had been driving, and she should assume the risk of putting out the fire, kind of like a captain going down with his ship. Not to mention, she was freezing. Getting close to the mini inferno was a welcome respite from the freezing temperature.

Scotty, the worker, and the Good Samaritan were engaged in conversation while Fina sprayed the white foam over the hood of the car. It had already migrated to the rest of the vehicle, and the extinguisher did little to quell the flames.

Two minutes later, sirens blared in the distance, and two fire engines squeezed through the tollbooths. They were followed by a fire department ambulance, two police cars, and a couple of fire department SUVs. The trucks’ compression brakes made loud squeaking noises when they rolled to a halt, and the doors opened, disgorging a troop of men wearing bunker gear.

“Step away, ma’am,” one of them instructed her, taking the fire extinguisher from her grip. “We’ve got it.”

Another firefighter led her away from the blaze and started asking questions. Was there anyone else in the car? Was she hurt? What was her name? What had happened?

Fina answered the questions and pointed out Scotty so they could check him out. An EMT insisted she come to the ambulance, which Fina didn’t feel was medically necessary, but she went anyway. In her experience—both as a PI and as the daughter of a highly litigious attorney—when health and safety experts offered their expertise, you took them up on it.

Fina sat down next to Scotty on the back of the rig.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

“I’m fine, just freezing.” One of the EMTs reached into a cabinet over the gurney and pulled out a scratchy wool blanket. Fina draped it around her shoulders while he started giving her a cursory once-over.

“Look at the car,” Scotty said wistfully. “It’s totaled.”

“You sound like a teenager.”

“I feel like one. Dad’s going to go berserk.”

“Did you call Patty?” Fina asked. “You don’t want her to see this on the news.”

“I texted her that we had car trouble, but that we’re both fine.”

“Ha!” Fina said.

“You’re all set, sir,” an EMT said to Scotty. He thanked the man and stood up slowly.

“I’m going to see if I can find anything out,” Scotty said before wandering back to the nearly extinguished fire.

Fina took stock of the scene, which was a weird amalgamation of opposites: freezing temperatures and intense heat; cold water and severe dryness; the early dark of January and the blinding lights from the emergency vehicles. The people who worked in these conditions needed to be brave, certainly, but they also needed to be steady in an environment of contradictory stimuli. It was hard to know where to look or what to pay attention to, but obviously, those were skills well honed by these first responders.

The EMT checked her vital signs and responses. He examined her hands and applied some ointment to her right hand and wrist, which were red and starting to pucker.

“Did you reach back into the car?” he asked.

Fina looked sheepish. “Maybe.”

He shook his head.

“Hey,” Fina said. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to cancel all your credit cards and get a new license?”

He shook his head. “Not as difficult as getting skin grafts.”

Fina smiled at him. “Fine. You win. It wasn’t my best moment.”

“I think it’s going to be okay.” He uncapped a bottle of water and handed it to her. “You should have your doctor check it in twenty-four hours.”

“I will. Thanks,” Fina said as he climbed into the rig and started tidying things. Fina remained perched on the back and scanned the crowd for Scotty.

“Seriously?” a voice said.

She looked over to see Lieutenant Pitney coming toward her.

“Well, Lieutenant, it doesn’t get more serious than your car erupting in flames on the Tobin Bridge, now, does it?”

“Are you hurt?” Pitney asked. She was bundled in a puffy silver parka. The look called to mind a disco ball.

“Some minor burns, but I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

“So, what happened?” Pitney pulled out a notebook and a pen.

“I’m thrilled to see you, as always,” Fina said, “but why are you here exactly?”

“Because we’re both investigating Liz Barone’s death, and it looks like someone tried to blow up your car. That seems awfully coincidental.”

The firefighters were rolling up hoses and loading gear back into their trucks.

“Are we sure this wasn’t a mechanical failure?” Fina asked. “If it was, it’s got lawsuit written all over it.”

“The fire guys don’t think so, but obviously, they’ll know more once they take a closer look. For now, we’re treating it as a crime scene.”

“And you’re assuming I was the target?” Fina asked. “Scotty was with me.”

“I know,” Pitney said. “That’s why Cristian is talking to him.” She pointed toward the two men engrossed in conversation. “We’re covering our bases, but if I were a betting woman, my money would be on you.”

“Great.”

“So is this the car you usually drive?”

“No. It’s a fleet car from the firm,” Fina said.

“Why were you driving it today?” Pitney asked.

“My father asked me to accompany Scotty and a client to a deposition.”

“What case?”

“Talk to Scotty about that. I’m sure there are all kinds of rules governing what we can say.”

“Of course there are. We wouldn’t want anyone’s rights to be violated,” Pitney said with a note of sarcasm.

“No, we wouldn’t. I know you find it inconvenient, but I assume that in general, you’re a fan of the Constitution,” Fina said.

“I am, but you’re right—it’s highly inconvenient.”

Fina sipped the water. Her throat hurt a little when she swallowed, but she didn’t know if that was from the smoke or the hollering.

“So your father told you to drive this car?”

“Yes,” Fina said, eyeing Pitney, “but my father did not try to kill me or my brother or—more importantly—a paying client.”

“Did anyone else know you’d be using that car?”

“I don’t think so. I only found out ten minutes before I picked up the keys, but it was parked close to my car in the garage.”

“So if someone was watching you . . .”

“They’d know I changed cars,” Fina acknowledged.

“Where did you go today?” Pitney asked.

“We were at a law firm in Lynn. Scotty can give you the particulars. We spent about three hours there this morning, then got some lunch and returned for another hour.”

“Did you take the car to get lunch?”

“No,” Fina said. “We walked.”

Pitney tapped her pen against the notebook. “Anybody tail you or seem suspicious?”

Fina considered for a moment whether or not she should tell Pitney about her shadow and the note she’d found in her car. “Not today, and I was keeping an eye out.”

“What do you mean ‘not today’?”

Fina fiddled with the bottle cap. “I’ve been wondering if I have a tail.”

“Since when?”

“The last week or so.”

“Did you get a look at the guy?”

“No,” Fina said, “and that’s why I’m hesitant to tell you. It could have been a coincidence.”

Pitney squinted at her. “You really believe that?”

Fina shrugged. “Not really,” she admitted.

“Was this person on foot? In a car?”

“In a car,” Fina said.

“What about the car? A plate or even a description?”

“A dark sedan with tinted windows. Not the least bit useful, I know.”

Pitney sighed. “What else?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have there been any other threats or strange occurrences?”

Fina studied the gauze on her hand. “There was a note suggesting I mind my own business.”

“Details, please,” Pitney said, shaking her head.

Fina filled her in.

“And it didn’t occur to you to tell me or Cristian?”

“Of course it occurred to me, but there was no point,” Fina insisted. “You weren’t going to find any prints on it. There aren’t any cameras in the area, and as you always tell me, I piss off a lot of people. I didn’t want to waste your time or cause Cristian to worry.”

“How thoughtful of you.” Pitney gestured toward the carcass of the SUV. “Where did you park the car today?”

“In a private garage attached to the building that houses the law firm. I’d have to look at a map to give you the address.” Fina watched the cops directing traffic. “You really think this is related to Liz?”

Pitney shrugged. “You tell me. Who have you pissed off most recently?”

“Oh, Lieutenant. You know that’s a long list.”

“Well, who’s at the top of the list?”

Fina thought for a moment. “I can tell you who I’ve spoken with recently, but no one jumps out as being especially annoyed.”

“Go ahead.”

“Jamie Gottlieb, Kevin Lafferty, Pamela Fordyce, Vikram Mehra, Tasha Beemis-Jones, Kelly Wegner, Dana Tompkins, Gus Sibley.”

Pitney’s pen paused over her notebook. “You haven’t spoken with Dr. Sibley since I told you not to, correct?”

Fina squinted in concentration. “When was that exactly?”

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