CHAPTER
12
C LOSE TO a minute later, Ben still didn’t know what to do. He said finally, “I’m going to catch the monster who killed him, ma’am. I promise you that. Thank you for speaking to me. You remembered more, as I’d hoped you would. And thank you for telling me about Justice Wallace.”
She wiped her eyes, tried a smile. “It can have no possible relevance to any of this, but you appear to want to know about all the skeletons in the closet.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When he came out into the entry hall a few minutes later, he nodded to the four women as they went back into the living room to rejoin Margaret Califano. Callie was standing in the hall, looking ready to leap at his throat. He splayed his fingers in front of him. “You ready?”
She waved toward the living room. “What, you’re not going to arrest any of those five killers?”
“Not your mom. We’ll see about the other four ladies. Hey, that was pretty funny, Callie.”
Federal Marshal Dennis Morgan caught a laugh, turning it quickly into a cough behind his hand.
“Yeah, right. You ready?” She was nearly dancing from foot to foot, wanting so badly to leave. He nodded toward the living room. “I’ll tell you, Callie, all of them look suspicious to me, look like they’re hiding something. Do you think I should go back in there and grill each one of them in turn, privately?”
“Har har,” Callie said. “Let’s go.”
He nodded to the federal marshals and ushered her outside. He said, “Isn’t it amazing what money can do? My mom is about their age, but believe me, she looks like she lives on a different planet. She’s cushy, her hair is always frazzled, and she has the biggest smile east of the Mississippi.”
She punched him in the arm. “You snob. Their smiles are as big as your mom’s. I’ve known them all my life. So they’re not cushy. That just means that they take care of themselves. They work out. Money doesn’t play a big part in looking good. Hey, maybe you should get your mom to work out, she’ll be healthier for it.”
He took her arm when one of her boots went out from under her. He couldn’t imagine his mother walking on a treadmill or pumping iron in a gym. But now that he thought about it, she and his dad had begun walking together in the evenings, quite a lot, in fact. He said, “Careful, this drive isn’t for wusses.”
“I wish I could have been at your meeting at the Hoover Building yesterday afternoon.”
“A reporter in the Hoover Building? Are you nuts? They would have locked you in a detention cell if you’d managed to sneak in. They would have turned you over to Big Matron Bubba, and she’d have strip-searched you and taken the fillings out of your teeth. The good Lord knows what would have happened to you then.”
She couldn’t hold back the laugh, but sobered immediately. She pulled her hat down over her ears because the temperature was sitting about three degrees above freezing. “I’ll just bet there were hardly any women included, were there? All you machos, sitting there preening, believing it’s up to you to solve all the world’s problems—”
“You’re being sexist, Ms. Markham.” His voice was perfectly easy and mild, although he was tempted to let her slide around on the driveway on her own. “Maybe if I don’t support you, you’ll go right down on your butt. Of course, the macho is here to haul you back up.” Then, of all things, he found himself looking at her butt, realized hers was an excellent butt, and looked away quickly.
But she saw it in his eyes and arched an eyebrow. “I believe that’s approval I see. Well, now, let me say that you’ve got a very fine butt, too, Detective Raven. When I don’t want to kick it, I admire it. Now, so you can get your mind onto other things, let me ask you how many female agents were important enough to be included in the meeting?”
“As I recall, more than a dozen of the special agents present were female. Your point?”
“That’s a start, pathetic though it be.” She stared at his Crown Vic, and said nothing more.
“When I’m able to get rid of you later, why don’t you shovel the driveway? Or you could arrange to have some macho guys come here and do it for you. You wouldn’t want any of your mother’s lovely rich friends to break their necks, now would you?”
She looked thoughtful for a moment, then frowned up at him. “Well, of course not. That’s a good use for macho guys.”
He’d hoped she’d take the bait, but she’d turned it around on him. Well done, dammit. “All right. You were bragging about how helpful you’d be, so tell me about the four women.”
“Well, they and their families have always been in my life. The only person I don’t like is Juliette Trevor’s son. He’s a spoiled trust-fund baby, and really smart. That combination always irritated me. No, I didn’t sleep with him, but it wasn’t for his lack of trying. I remember Mrs. Trevor gave me a Hermes scarf from Paris when I graduated high school. Wasn’t that nice?”
“What’s the big deal about a Hermes scarf?”
“They’re very expensive, and so beautiful they make you weep.”
“Yeah, right, I can see myself crying over a scarf.” He gave her a look. “Only a woman.”
When he started the car, she said pleasantly, “Did I mention that you’re a pretty sharp dresser? Maybe you’d like to hear about the shoes I bought to go with the Hermes scarf?”
He groaned, rolled his eyes. “All right, I can see where this is all going.”
“Probably so. I’ve always felt sorry for guys. Even though you obviously know how to dress, are doubtless well aware of the effect you have on the female population, you still don’t have the gift of the shoe-shopping gene. No man alive has it that I’ve ever seen. That’s the gene that forces a credit card right out of your wallet when you pass a neat pair of shoes, no matter how many are already in your closet. No, all guys have is the Home Depot hard-wired into your brains. It’s really sad.” She turned the heater on full blast.
He laughed at her. “Another good use for macho guys—fixing toilets.”
“All right, you got me fair and square. Tell me everything that happened yesterday.”
To his surprise, he did. She asked questions, grew thoughtful. She said finally, “The pancreatic cancer, that will come out soon, won’t it?”
“Oh yes, too many people know. Everyone likes to talk, everyone. No exceptions to that, unfortunately.”
She felt tears sting her eyes. Her stepfather would have died in any case. But he would have had six more months to live. Perhaps he would have had a chance, with new drugs discovered every day—
“I read up on pancreatic cancer. It’s a killer, so don’t go there, Callie. Someone brutally murdered him, that’s our only concern. Whatever fate would have dealt him we have no control over.”
“My editor called again last night, on my cell, thank God. If he’d called the house, I would have freaked. I hate leaks, I really do, and if Jed Coombes had gotten the Kettering house number, I’d be doomed.”
“What has he offered you to feed them information?”
“The inside track to a Pulitzer Prize.”
He whistled. “Hard to turn down.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll earn one on my own. I nearly got one last year, it was that close.” She held up two fingers, nearly touching.
“What did you do?” He was driving very carefully even though there weren’t many cars on the road, the sun was bright overhead, and the snow was melting. But the occasional pockets of slush could take a car into a ditch with no warning.
“I have snitches, like you cops do. One of them tipped me off that a child pornography ring was operating out of the Barrington Hotel right here in Washington. I broke the story.”
He jerked the steering wheel in his surprise and nearly sent them into a telephone pole. It was dicey for a moment until he got the car straight again. “You were the one who broke the Cadillac Ring story?”
At her nod, he could only stare at her. “I’ll tell you, Callie, you had a lot of people pissed off at your paper about that. We already had undercover guys in there gathering evidence, then you had to move in with your battering ram. Lucky for the good guys we were nearly ready to close them down.”
“Yeah, sure you were,” she said, eyes narrowed. “I heard about an undercover operation, but I didn’t see anything coming out of your efforts. I got all the evidence for you, Detective Raven. Oh yeah, you guys did a great job—once I cracked it.”
