“When I met Darcy the next day, he’d claimed to have had knee surgery, and went down the stairs awkwardly. The knee seemed fine by the time I left for Europe. Darcy Churcott’s tall and he wears blue tinted glasses.”
“Shit.” He shook his head. “I want to see this loser.”
“Rhonda said your attacker spoke to you. What did he sound like?”
“Gravelly voice.”
Casey shivered. “It’s him.”
“How does the jerk fit into this?”
“He knows Theo Ziegler and he may want the money.”
“What money?”
“I’ll fill you in while we eat.”
Lou put a comforting arm around her. “We’ll need evidence against this freak.”
Casey nodded. “I gather you didn’t describe your assailant to Rhonda?”
“No, she seems hyper-sensitive these days. I didn’t think I should go into detail.”
“Good move. She really likes the sick bastard. I’ll call Lalonde.”
Another bus pulled into the depot. Casey breathed in the familiar smells of diesel fumes. Someone shouted a greeting to a coworker and again her eyes filled with tears. She was home.
Seventeen
CASEY STOOD IN Vincent Wilkes’s humid kitchen and sipped a mug of coffee. She’d shown up unannounced to catch him off guard, and the plan had worked, more or less. Vincent was surprised all right, but he was also with a client in the work area upstairs; not something she’d anticipated on a Sunday. When she asked if she could wait, Vincent suggested she pour herself a coffee in the kitchen. He hadn’t looked happy to see her, but then Vincent and happiness
had always been at odds. Or was there another reason he didn’t want her here?
Casey tried to ignore the plate of congealed porridge and ketchup-streaked eggs by the sink. A large bowl of raw vegetables sat on the counter.
The room’s pine decor hadn’t changed in twenty years. Out of curiosity, she opened drawers in search of loose lining paper, but the drawers had no paper. What about Dad’s old desk? Was evidence of illegal imports and exports still in there? Had Vincent given all of TZ Inc.’s files to Detective Lalonde, or had he held something back?
As Casey tiptoed down the hall, she thought about her chat with the great detective yesterday. She’d told Lalonde everything she’d learned about Dad’s other life: the missing money, Gislinde Van Akker, Theo, and Darcy. Lalonde responded by lecturing her about taking unnecessary risks.
At the end of the hall, Casey opened the door and entered the stifling heat of lizard-land. Reluctant to look at the creatures, she marched straight to Dad’s old desk and sat down. While she listened to the faint sound of voices upstairs, she removed her jacket.
There weren’t many files and the labels meant nothing. By the time she’d thumbed through the first half dozen, her focus was drifting to yesterday’s unsettling chat with Rhonda. Since Lalonde hadn’t yet arrested Darcy on assault charges, Casey felt she had to warn Rhonda about him. Unfortunately, Rhonda hadn’t wanted to hear anything bad about him. In two weeks, she’d gone from searching the man’s things to believing she had a real relationship with the scumbag. Casey had tried to reason with her, but Rhonda had told her to stop accusing Darcy without solid proof. Refusing to stay in the house with him, Casey spent last night on Lou’s couch. He’d wanted her to take the bed, but she’d declined his offer. And he hadn’t suggested sharing it. Just as well.
Her other worry was Simone Archambault. Casey was still waiting to hear from her, and the longer she waited, the more worried she became. She’d pop by her apartment today to see if Simone had left a message there.
Casey finished with the files and closed the bottom drawer. When she sat up she found herself staring at an enormous iguana lumbering toward her. She jumped out of the chair.
“Woah, where did you come from?” She sidestepped to the end of the desk. God, he must have been sleeping or something in front of the easy chairs. “Hi, Sydney, aren’t you a big boy.”
Nearly six feet long, the beast was a grayish-green color that was dull compared to the vibrant green of the babies she’d seen earlier. Dark bands added a sinister appearance to the tail that swished back and forth. The monster lifted his head higher.
“Nice, Sydney.” She glanced at the closed door. “Pretty boy.”
His claws looked lethal. The beast lowered his head and raised it again. Oh lord, how fast were these beasts when they attacked? Could she make it to the door? The iguana moved toward the front of the desk. Casey retreated to the chair. The sound of footsteps heading down the stairs allowed her to breathe again.
“Come on, Vincent,” she mumbled, “hurry up.”
She heard Vincent thank the client for coming by and the client’s reply fade. The front door closed.
“Vincent, I’m in here,” Casey called out, and tried to appear nonchalant as he opened the door.
“Oh, I see you met Sydney,” he said.
“Yes, any other pets wandering around?”
“No.”
Sydney lumbered out of the room and down the hall. Mercifully, Vincent shut the door after him, then turned and looked at Casey. His black dress pants and shirt made him look thinner than ever.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much time. I have to leave for a family dinner soon.”
“Sorry, Vincent, I didn’t realize you’d be so busy on a Sunday.”
“I’m usually not, but it was my client’s only free day.”
Casey moved to the visitor’s chair while Vincent took his place behind the desk. He seemed shaky. Was it because of his MS or the client, or her visit? The man didn’t look strong enough to whack someone fifty or sixty times with a meat cleaver. Besides, Darcy Churcott had soared to top spot on her suspect list.
“I didn’t get a chance to see Mother in Europe, but I met Theo Ziegler. What I need to know from you is if Mother’s involved in importing illegal or stolen goods for Ziegler.”
“I already told you—no, not that I’m aware of.”
She stared at him. “Vincent?”
“All right,” he sighed, “I think some of their clients were criminals, but neither Marcus nor Lillian ever hinted at moving stolen or illegal merchandise.”
“Did Dad ever mention two Mexican clients named Joseph and Carlos?”
“I remember him dealing with a couple of guys from Mexico, but I don’t remember the details.”
“Then they haven’t come here, asking you about some money Dad owed him?”
“No,” Vincent frowned. “Why?”
“First, do you know the name Darcy Churcott?”
Vincent sat back in the chair. “He was involved in the import business, but I’m not sure in what capacity. I do know that Marcus thought he was bastard with a real mean streak. I heard him have words on the phone with Churcott a couple of times.”
Great, just great. Casey’s stomach began to flutter. “Ziegler told me that Osterman was the anti-social mean one.”
Vincent shrugged and clasped his hands together. “All I know is that Marcus and Lillian liked him.”
“Or Ziegler lied.”
“He might be involved in some illegal activity.” Vincent gazed at the snake cages beneath the window. “I think Marcus knew it and wanted to break with him, but I’m basing this entirely on bits of overheard conversations. Neither of your parents ever discussed this with me directly.”
Or was he trying to protect his own ass? Casey heard a noise at the door. Oh geez, maybe Sydney wanted in again. “Vincent, did you give Detective Lalonde everything you had on TZ Inc., or are there more documents somewhere?”
