“The Blues Magoos? Lord Fauntleroy? A family of polar bears?”
“My niece, Sophie Alexander.”
“You’re shitting me!”
He laughs again. “I
“I do. When can I meet them?”
“At my Fourth of July party!”
“That’s in what, five weeks?”
“Not soon enough? I can get you into her husband’s funeral, if you want.”
“When’s that?”
“Friday.”
“You’re going?”
“Fuck no! Are you crazy? Her husband drops dead in Cincinnati where I live and work? And Dani happens to be staying with my niece? You think they might wonder why I’m at the funeral?”
“You’re going to need my help.”
“With what?”
“When the cops make the connection they’ll arrest Dani for the murder. Then they’ll come looking for you.”
“Me? What the fuck?”
“Guilt by association. They’ll put the screws to Dani and Sophie and find out what happened.”
“Nothing happened.”
“Right. Here’s my question. Can you trust the shooter? Or do I need to get involved.”
“There is no fuckin’ shooter! Sophie says the guy died of a heart attack.”
“Sal.”
“Yeah?”
“I saw the husband on TV.”
“So?”
“No way he died of a heart attack.”
“I had nothing to do with it. Hell, I didn’t even know they were a couple till today.”
“Who’s a couple?”
“Dani and Sophie.”
“Holy shit!” I say.
“I know. We were hoping Sophie would marry a rich country singer.”
“This is great news!”
“What? Why?”
“Callie will be thrilled.”
“Why?”
“Because-” I stop. I can’t tell him Callie might steal his niece’s girlfriend. Nor can I tell him I’m excited to learn Dani likes women because maybe Callie and I will have a chance to hook up if Gwen’s not at the party. But Sal lets it slide. He only cares about one thing.
“You think Callie will come to my party?”
“I can guarantee it.”
“Tell her to wear a-whatcha call-bikini.”
“I will. But Sal?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll need to get involved in the investigation. They’re not going to let this slide. Dani’s as high profile as it gets. This has to be handled properly.”
“Why are you saying this to me? I told you I didn’t do it.”
“What about Sophie?”
“What about her?”
“With the husband dead, she has a clear path to Dani.”
“If she wanted the husband killed, she’d go through me.”
“And she didn’t.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“Okay. So who’s got her now?”
“Dani?”
“Yeah.”
“Nashville P.D.”
“You know anyone in the department?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“What do you need?” Sal says.
“Find out who’s got the case, and what they know.”
“What’re you gonna do?”
“Put a plan together.”
“When?”
“It’s Tuesday, funeral’s Friday. The cops will be all over Dani between now and then. But starting Monday, it’s going to get ugly.”
“Why?”
“By then the FBI will have the case. I’ll have to short-circuit their investigation Monday.”
“Shit,” Sal says.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t have any contacts among the feds. Do you?”
“One.”
“Who?”
“Their boss.”
“Who’s their boss,” Sal says. “Congress?”
“The president.”
“You know the fuckin’ president well enough to shut down the investigation?”
“No. But by Monday I will.”
“Why’s that?”
“By Monday-and probably much sooner-he’s going to owe me, big time.”
44
HIGHLAND-WINET AIRPORT is four miles north-west of Highland, Illinois, and less than five minutes from the home of Miles Gundy. We land, and I sign for the rental car. Within minutes I’m turning right on Atlantic Avenue.
“Gundy’s house?” Miranda says.
“Yup.”
“Lou said it might be booby trapped.”
“That’s why you’re going to wait in the car.”
When I turn into the driveway she says, “This is how you do it?”
“What?”
“Don’t you park somewhere and scope out the scene first? Get a feel for what’s happening?”
I notice she’s got her compact out, checking her makeup.
