Al had brought it on himself. Everything he had done to her over the years, she was back at him now. She was back at him for giving her only the house, the car, the stocks, and that piddling amount of monthly alimony. Since he made it big after the divorce, why shouldn’t she have more? She took him back to court but Al had the bigshot lawyers and the judge in his pocket.
Her plan needed Ray Reid or someone just as simple. Couldn’t just send the exterminator out to shoot Al. That’s no plan, they would zero in on him immediately. She didn’t want the police hunting all over for a suspect, and somehow blundering onto the truth. Give them someone, hand them Ray Reid. Steer him to Al’s apartment and he’ll make an ass out of himself because he doesn’t know what to say, what to believe. Plus he thinks she’s lying naked somewhere waiting for him. The incompetent police, as expected, went for the stranger in town.
She had to give Sonny Barner credit, he pulled it off. She thought it brainless to fly off to Vegas the same day he shoots Al. Fortunately the police didn’t make too much of it. People like him are always in trouble with the law and are smart enough to hold together if questioned. Other than that, he was just another worthless human being as far as she could tell.
At first, she was concerned about the deal. First, she offered him five up front and five after he kills Al. He said he’d have to think about it. Started in with excuses and talked about the complications. Wouldn’t be as easy as she was saying, and on and on. Wanted more. She needed him; so okay, twenty thousand total, ten down and ten after he kills Al. That sounded good to him.
Now she had just saved herself the second ten thousand and eliminated the one person who could bring her down. A man like him doesn’t deserve to have that kind of money. What do people like that need money for anyway? There’s nothing to buy in this little town. They don’t know how to use it properly. They spend it on their junk. Barner would have blown through all the money in no time and then be back for more. Well, he won’t now, and now there was one less foul-smelling man in the world.
Then a thought startled her and she sat up straight. The money, where was it? Did she put it back in the freezer? She hurried to the kitchen to check. Yes, it’s in there, but—oh my God—the revolver was sitting on the counter where she placed it while handling the money.
Had she forgotten anything else? The porch, what about the porch? She went out on the porch. She could still smell Barner. She switched on the overhead fan. That man would stink up the whole house if she let him.
The Chivas and the two empty glasses still sat in the middle of the table. Careless, damn careless. In addition, she spotted her headband and shoes near the door where she had tossed them when she went out to the pool.
All that incriminating evidence was sitting out because she was in a rush to go upstairs and wash him off her. If someone had walked to the back of the house, the gun on the counter and the glasses on the table could have been seen through the glass doors. That gave her a chill. Damn! Little things can trip you up, some little overlooked thing. Even so, she was still okay, she was sure no one had been around. She got out the Lysol and wiped down the table and chairs. Then wet mopped the porch floor with Lysol. Disgusting, the things she must go through to get her money.
Keep thinking, his prints are on the glass and possibly still on the gun. She washed the glasses. She carefully wiped the gun and the Ziploc bag of money. No prints or DNA could survive Lysol. Did he touch the Chivas bottle? She couldn’t remember. She washed that too. She stood thinking, had she overlooked anything else? She’d check again in the morning. She locked the doors and went to bed.
She slept through untroubled. Then it was light outside. She walked to the end of the upstairs hall, pushed aside the curtain, and looked down on the backyard. The pool appeared empty. The body would now be on the bottom. The sooner she calls the police the better.
She went downstairs. Everything appeared okay. She took out the money. How does she explain why she’s holding ten thousand dollars? Cash is never necessary these days. She took the gun out of the drawer. Must find a better place for this until she can toss it in the river.
She’d have preferred to toss the gun and hide the money before the police came but didn’t dare to leave the house. How would she explain backing out past his van, and not reporting a body in her pool? Wait until the police leave, there will be time. She put the money and gun in the upstairs safe. No reason for police to search the house because of an accidental drowning. She’d have their asses on a plate if they tried, take it to the Supreme Court.
Ready to phone? Recheck everything first. She walked through the house just to be certain. Upstairs was of no concern, but she scrutinized the appearance anyway. Leave the bed unmade, as though too upset to do anything after finding the body. Check the study. Check the kitchen. Check the porch.
The porch worried her. Even one partial fingerprint would demand an explanation. She got the Lysol out and wiped down the table and chairs again. She turned on the overhead fan to dissipate the disinfectant’s odor.
She stood at the porch door and surveyed the pool scene. His clothes appeared okay, strewn around as if he undressed in a hurry. She couldn’t see the bottom of the pool from the porch. She wanted to walk out to the pool to be certain the body was there, but of course, it would be there. Light dew covered the patio and walkway. If she walked to the pool, she would leave footprints, would that be plausible? Yes, that fits. Her story was she awoke in the morning and was surprised to see his van in her driveway; she had spotted the clothing and walked out to the pool.
So then, she did walk out. There on the bottom was his naked ugly body that would already be decomposing in
When she noticed his van parked at the side of the house, she had another thought. Where are his keys? She hadn’t thought about the keys. Need she worry? Did he bring them in the house? Would the police find them in the house? Tried to think, did he have them at the table? No, didn’t think so, she would have found them when she cleaned.
Must think about her story, where would his keys be if he came to the house in the dark to sneak a swim. Possibly in his truck. She walked to his truck in the driveway. Couldn’t clearly see the ignition switch and mustn’t touch the door handle. Keys must be in his coveralls. She didn’t dare to disturb the clothing again, might leave some small clue. Yes, the keys had to be his pocket. That’s okay, that’s logical. Anything else?
Okay, show time. How emotional should she seem for the police? Not emotional at all, she decided. She had no emotional involvement in his life or death, she barely knew the man. Perhaps Chip Goddard would respond, he seemed easy to deal with.
Get it over with. She punched 911.
At that moment, her plan started going downhill. Then it crashed and burned.
Two police units were already there when Detective Goddard arrived and carefully walked around the house and the grounds. He asked her a few questions and told her to stay inside the house with the officer. Said he had to leave but would be right back. Loraine was furious, she had shopping to do. He went out to the officers at the pool, told them to treat the entire house and grounds as a crime scene. He told them to just stand there and keep their mouths shut. He called for CSI and left. He didn’t return for almost two hours,
He returned with a search warrant. Later he left with the gun, the money, and Loraine Dellin in handcuffs.
The following week her new attorney from West Palm Beach stated he was confident that when all the facts were known his client would be completely exonerated.
He explained that guns are routinely kept in safes so the presence of a gun was irrelevant. Further, his client had recently sold twenty thousand of securities and obtained cash. She had already spent ten thousand on sundry items and the ten thousand dollars cash found in her safe in the Ziploc bag was simply mad money and insignificant for a woman of her means.
The attorney also stated that CSI had failed to find any of the victim’s prints or DNA in the house.
However, her attorney responded with “No comment” when asked how traces of Pyrethroid, a powerful scorpion killer used by professionals—that were on the victim’s coveralls—were also detected on the money inside a Ziploc bag in the bedroom safe.
