Brutality (39 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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Over the years, Kevin and Pamela had had an alliance. They’d had each other’s backs and tried to keep the other’s interests in mind. But now she was having doubts. Kevin had always seemed loyal, but she didn’t find his reaction to recent events reassuring. His easygoing demeanor was either an impressive acting job or he truly didn’t appreciate how much was at risk.

Pamela padded into the kitchen and pulled an open bottle of wine from the fridge. She poured a generous glass and went back to the couch. Her phone beeped, and Pamela clicked open a text from Deb. Sorry dinner hadn’t happened. Sorry she got upset with Pamela. Maybe they could reschedule for tomorrow?

Pamela placed the phone facedown on the coffee table without responding. She felt irritated, a relationship death knell if ever there was one.

She needed to start taking action. Waiting for other people to act wasn’t getting her anywhere. Pamela had been clear with Kevin that she was worried, and he had dismissed her concerns. And now she’d found out that things were even worse than she thought.

From here on out, it was every woman for herself.


I
assume you know that Vikram Mehra lives a few streets away from Liz Barone?” Fina asked Cristian the next morning. She was leaving soon to meet Pamela Fordyce for breakfast—an unexpected and intriguing invitation extended the night before.

“Yes, I assumed you knew, too.”

“I didn’t.”

“Maybe you’re losing your edge,” Cristian said on the other end of the line.

“I doubt it, but I am only human. Mistakes are made.” She swapped the phone and the mascara wand between hands. “So was he in the neighborhood when she was attacked?”

“Presumably, but there’s no way to prove it either way.”

“Hmm.”

“Is that the only reason you called?” Cristian asked.

“That and to say hi.” Fina knew she should tell him about the sock insignia research, but something made her hold back. She had a few more avenues she wanted to explore before handing that nugget over to the police. It wasn’t actual evidence yet, she rationalized, just a lead. It could be a dead end, and she didn’t want to waste the cops’ time. Neither Cristian nor Pitney would buy that explanation for a second, but it worked in her head.

“Okay,” he said. “Hi.”

“That’s it. Hi. When are we having dinner?” Fina asked.

“Tonight?”

“Is that a question for me or you?”

“Both of us, I guess.”

“Why don’t we touch base later?” Fina said, applying a coat of lip gloss.

“Sounds good. Talk to you later.”

She hung up and grabbed her bag and coat.

Fina was hungry—for food and information.


P
amela had suggested they meet at a hotel situated in the middle of NEU’s urban campus. The building—constructed from yellow brick and limestone—dated from the mid-1800s. At ten stories, it was one of the taller structures in the neighborhood, which was probably helpful to visiting parents trying to navigate the area for the first time.

Fina left her car with the valet and pushed through the revolving door into the lobby. It was an ornate space with dark coffered ceilings and crystal sconces. There were oversized canvases on the walls—paintings of oceanscapes and historical gatherings. It was the kind of place that attracted a certain wedding reception clientele: people who wanted to imagine they were stepping back in time and up the social ladder in one quick move.

Pamela was already seated in the dining room with a cup of tea in front of her.

“Good morning,” Fina said, and waved off the coffee-wielding waiter.

“I waited to get some food until you got here,” Pamela said.

“Thanks. I’m hungry.”

“After you,” Pamela said, pointing Fina in the direction of the buffet.

Fina took a warm plate from a tall stack and scanned her options. Pamela was doing the same, and after five minutes, they reconvened at the table. Pamela had selected yogurt and fruit plus two strips of bacon. Fina had opted for French toast, bacon, a few cubes of cantaloupe, and two small cinnamon rolls.

Pamela examined Fina’s plate. “How do you eat like that and stay thin?” she asked.

“I’ve been blessed with a very fast metabolism,” Fina said, sipping a glass of orange juice. “I also don’t eat a ton at any one time.”

“Must be nice,” Pamela murmured.

“It is, although you’d be surprised how many people want to weigh in on my diet. It gets annoying after a while.”

“I wish I could eat like that,” Pamela said, spearing a chunk of pineapple with her fork.

“I’m sure you’re blessed with other talents,” Fina said. She nibbled on a piece of bacon and waited. Pamela had called this meeting; Fina would let her dive in when she was ready.

“I wanted to let you know,” Pamela started, “that I spent a great deal of time yesterday making sure that Liz Barone’s name has been deleted from the development office’s rolls.”

“Good. Glad to hear it.”

Pamela picked up her teacup and sipped from its delicate lip. Fina doubted that bit of information was the reason she’d been summoned.

“Also, I was thinking about the things you said about Kevin Lafferty.”

“Oh?” Fina asked casually.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to cast aspersions on anyone,” Pamela said, gearing up to cast aspersions, “but this is an unusual situation.”

“Which part of the situation are you referring to?” Fina asked.

“Liz’s death and the lawsuit, of course.”

“Right.” Fina cut off a bite of French toast.

“You can’t repeat what I’m saying to anyone,” Pamela insisted.

“Then what’s the point of telling me?” Fina wondered.

“Because I think you should know. I’m trying to be helpful.” People often wanted credit for coming forward with information they shared only when it was in their best interest.

“And I appreciate that,” Fina said.

Pamela frowned and dipped her spoon into the ramekin of yogurt. She swallowed a mouthful before speaking. “Nobody can know that I told you.”

“Pamela.” Fina looked at her. “If the police ask me for information and the source of that information, I have to comply. If I don’t cooperate, I could be charged with obstruction.”

“I understand that,” she said.

“In terms of people other than the police, I will do everything I can to keep your name out of it. It’s the best I can do.”

Pamela poured more tea from the small pot into her cup and stirred in some sugar.

“Well, I guess I can live with that.”

“Good,” Fina said, biting into a cinnamon roll. “You wanted to tell me something about Kevin Lafferty?”

“Yes.”

A party of six was led to the table next to them. Pamela didn’t continue until they had deposited their bags, cameras, and maps and headed for the buffet.

“Kevin has done many wonderful things for NEU,” she said. “He’s been a tremendous booster, raised lots of money, and has always pitched in when asked.”

Fina looked at her. “I get it. He has many good qualities. Blah, blah, blah. I’ll bear those in mind, but I’m not terribly interested in that at the moment.”

Pamela sat back. “You don’t mince words.”

“No, I don’t. I’m not a development officer, remember? I can piss off whomever I like.”

“What that must be like,” Pamela mused.

“It’s delightful,” Fina said, “but back to Kevin. I assume you want to tell me about his less-than-stellar traits.”

Pamela smoothed the napkin on her lap. “Rumor has it that he plays around.”

“So do half of all married men, if we’re to believe the statistics,” Fina said.

“He plays around with students,” Pamela said in a hushed tone.

Fina considered that for a moment. “Okay, that’s slimy, but is it against school policy? He isn’t an employee, and if the students are of age, it’s not against the law.”

“It’s frowned upon, particularly when the man is in a position of influence.”

“You’ll have to be more specific, Pamela,” Fina said. “Are we talking about female students? Male students?”

“We’re talking about female student athletes.” She sat back. The tourists reappeared at that moment. Finding room for their multiple plates was a noisy and extended production that served to temporarily quell Fina and Pamela’s conversation.

“You’re saying that Kevin has affairs with young women who are currently athletes at NEU?” Fina asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you have any proof of this?”

“No.”

Fina chewed on some bacon. “If this is true, why is he allowed to remain as a booster?”

“Because he’s practically an institution himself,” Pamela said. “If he stopped doing what he does, people would ask questions. There would probably be a scandal, which would hurt him and NEU.”

“So they’re looking at mutually assured destruction?” Fina asked.

“Something like that.”

“But in terms of the position of influence, does he have enough sway to impact the athletes’ lives? What’s in it for the players?”

“He has a lot of influence,” Pamela insisted. “Booster money might get routed one way and not another. Or if a player has a problem with the coach, Kevin is tight with the athletic director. There are lots of ears he can whisper into to make certain things happen.”

“How long has he been doing this?” Fina asked.

Pamela shook her head. “I have no idea.”

“Does he currently have a girlfriend?”

“I would bet he does, but I don’t know for sure. He does have a wife, though, I can tell you that.”

Fina shrugged. “For all we know, they’ve worked out an arrangement. Who knows what goes on in other people’s marriages?” She popped the remainder of a cinnamon roll in her mouth. “I’m not sure what this has to do with Liz.”

“I don’t have all the answers, Fina, but I thought you should know.”

“Why now?” Fina drained her juice.

“What do you mean?” Pamela asked, busying herself with a piece of pineapple.

“This is the fourth time we’ve spoken since the start of this investigation. Why are you only telling me this now?”

Pamela patted her lips with her napkin. “It didn’t seem relevant before, but when we spoke yesterday, I realized that I wasn’t in a position to judge relevancy.”

“Have you shared your suspicions with the police?” Fina asked.

“Not yet.”

“Are you planning to?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Pamela grasped the handle of her teacup. “I assume you’re going to urge me to tell them.”

Fina sighed. “I think people should tell the police the truth when asked, particularly if one’s statement can be either proven or disproven, but I can’t be your conscience.”

“Would you tell them if you were me?”

Fina looked at the tourists, who were debating the city map in a language that sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard.

“I suggest you do whatever will ensure a good night’s sleep.”

Pamela signaled the waiter for the check. She reached into her purse and pulled out some cash, which she slipped into the folio.

“Do you think Liz Barone knew about Kevin’s affairs?” Fina asked, rising from her chair.

Pamela tilted her head side to side. “I have no idea.”

Fina waited in the vestibule for her car, turning the conversation over in her head. There was a lot that Pamela claimed she didn’t know. But she certainly knew enough to shine a bright, unflattering spotlight on Kevin Lafferty.

26.

Fina’s questions for Kevin were piling up, but she needed to do more digging before confronting him with them. Tasha and Gus might shed some light on the rumors, but given their professional responsibilities, they were hard to track down. Fina was able to get Kelly on the line, but she had a packed schedule of her own.

“I don’t have time to meet with you today. I’m sorry,” Kelly said. She sounded like she was on speakerphone in the car.

“I’m happy to meet you at one of the kids’ activities or tag along while you do errands,” Fina said.

“What is this about exactly?” Kelly asked.

“I have some questions about Kevin Lafferty.”

There was a long pause. “I suppose you could join me at Costco.”

“Great,” Fina said, wondering if Kelly’s change of heart could be solely attributed to the proposed topic of conversation. “Just tell me where and when.”

They met an hour later in the parking lot of the Dedham store. Fina pushed a cart that was the size of a small flatbed truck as Kelly deposited oversized items into it. She’d wrapped her hand in fresh gauze that morning, and it was healing nicely, but it still hurt when she tried to maneuver the cart.

“This must last you a while,” Fina commented as Kelly struggled with a box of thirty granola bars.

“I come every couple of weeks,” Kelly said, her hair escaping from a loose ponytail. There were dark circles under her eyes. “The kids go through the basics like you wouldn’t believe: bread, milk, yogurt, cereal. If I got standard sizes, I’d be at the grocery store every other day.”

“And here, you can get new tires and underwear at the same time,” Fina noted.

“Hey, don’t knock it,” Kelly said. “Aren’t you from a big family?”

The Ludlows had a high enough profile that people often knew general information about them, even if they weren’t personally acquainted. It had always been this way, so Fina didn’t think much of it.

“I’m one of four,” she said.

“So your mother really had it bad. Did she shop in bulk when you were growing up?” Kelly asked.

Fina rested her forearms on the cart handle and followed Kelly down an aisle of canned fruit and vegetables. She didn’t have many memories of Elaine performing household tasks. Her mother hired someone to take care of those sorts of things so she would have plenty of time for playing tennis and gossiping.

“My mother wasn’t very hands-on,” Fina said.

Kelly gave her a funny look, but didn’t comment. They passed a family of several generations who were nibbling from small paper cups. There seemed to be food samples available at the end of every other aisle. You could make a meal of it, if you didn’t mind chasing canned salmon with cinnamon swirl tea loaf.

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