Read Crime Seen Page 4


  Candice was taller than me by a few inches and her look was sleek and trendy. She had a sense of style that made people notice her. And in all the time I’d known her, I’d never seen any color on her but white, black, and gray. That is, except for today. ‘‘And what’s with the new duds?’’ I asked as I turned to unlock my office door.

  ‘‘I know—right?’’ she said, running her hand along her pink sleeve. ‘‘I’ve been on this new kick lately. I’m trying to soften my look.’’

  ‘‘It’s good on you,’’ I said, waving her in.

  ‘‘So is this office,’’ she said as she paused in my tiny front lobby and did a three-sixty turn. ‘‘Abby, this is wonderful!’’

  I’d had some trouble with a local psychopath a few months earlier, and he’d completely trashed my office. Luckily, I had insurance up the yin-yang and I’d been able to upgrade a lot of my furniture. The front lobby now held two red suede chairs and modern, dark-wood side tables, and a painting of colored patches hung just above the chairs, giving warmth to the space.

  ‘‘Come see the rest,’’ I coaxed, walking her into my reading room.

  ‘‘Wow,’’ she said as she entered. ‘‘This is completely different!’’ The room had previously been painted a Moroccan blue, with two cream-colored chairs, a lovely cherry oak credenza, and a blue-and-green-mosaic mirror on the wall. Crystals, both small and large, had dotted nearly every surface, and a huge, soothing waterfall had stood prominently in one of the far corners. I’d been truly crushed by the devastation that the wacko had wreaked on such a precious space and I couldn’t stand the thought of trying to re-create it, so I’d opted for a completely different look.

  The room was now a very soft mocha brown, and I’d spent long hours painting the molding light cream. Two espresso-colored leather chairs faced each other in the center of the room, and a short chestnut bookcase had replaced the ruined credenza. The waterfall had been too expensive to replace, so I’d settled for a large terra-cotta pot filled with five-foot-tall bamboo shoots, and to the side of that, I’d actually made a new mosaic mirror out of shards of stained glass, which turned out much better than expected. I’d also hung sheer cream curtains along the window. The overall effect was more like a living room than a psychic’s parlor.

  ‘‘You like?’’ I asked.

  ‘‘No,’’ Candice said as she wrapped an arm over my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. ‘‘This, I love.’’ She pointed to the mirror. ‘‘And where did you get that? It’s like your other one, only bigger, right?’’

  ‘‘I made it,’’ I said.

  ‘‘Get out of here!’’ she exclaimed. ‘‘I didn’t know you did art.’’

  I laughed. ‘‘A friend of mine taught me years ago. It’s really easy. I’ve kind of taken over Dutch’s garage making these recently.’’

  ‘‘Can you make me one?’’ she asked, then said quickly, ‘‘I mean, I’d pay for it.’’

  ‘‘Hell, Candice, I’ve got a whole friggin’ garage full of these things. My physical therapist said it would be good to help me regain the motor skills in my right arm. I think I’ve got a dozen of them lying around. Come by anytime and pick whichever one you like. There’s no price tag. They’re cheap to make and I like to do it.’’

  ‘‘Thanks, Abs,’’ Candice said and gave me another squeeze before settling into one of the leather chairs. ‘‘Now, let’s get down to business. How much were you thinking to charge me for Theresa’s old room?’’

  I opened my mouth to suggest the price I had in mind when my intuitive radar gave me a buzz. Moving over to sit in the chair opposite Candice, I hesitated for a moment before answering her as I pulled the thought close. ‘‘Actually,’’ I began, sending a mental thank-you to my guides, ‘‘I was wondering if, for the first month, we could do a trade?’’

  ‘‘Trade?’’ she asked. ‘‘What did you have in mind?’’

  I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper on which I’d written out my impressions about Walter’s murder. ‘‘I’ve come across something that I could really use your professional opinion on.’’

  Candice cocked an eyebrow. ‘‘Just my opinion?’’

  ‘‘And maybe a little legwork,’’ I added.

  ‘‘Opinion and legwork?’’

  ‘‘Okay, so maybe there will be some interviewing and background checking and other private eye stuff too.’’

  Candice chuckled. ‘‘This deal just went from fantastic to are you serious?’’

  ‘‘I see your point,’’ I said, looking at the paper in my hand. ‘‘Make that the first two months’ rent.’’ My crew was making me feel like I was definitely going to need Candice’s help on this one, and I knew I had to pin her down quickly before her caseload built up.

  ‘‘How much legwork, background checking, and other private eye stuff are we talking about?’’

  ‘‘Depends.’’

  ‘‘On?’’

  ‘‘On what we find out initially.’’

  Candice sat back in her seat and eyed me critically. ‘‘Want to elaborate a little just so I know what I’m getting myself into?’’

  I looked up and met her eyes. I’d really wanted to avoid the whole getting-into-the-details end of the case. As I saw it, this Wolfe guy was one bad dude, and if Candice had heard of him prior to committing to me and found out he was involved, well, that would be a good reason for her to turn me down. ‘‘It involves an old case of Dutch’s,’’ I began.

  ‘‘Did he finally wise up to the gold mine he has for a girlfriend and ask you to tune in on some cold cases?’’

  ‘‘In a manner of speaking,’’ I said. Then I laid out for her the story I knew about Bruce Lutz, Walter McDaniel, and Dick Wolfe.

  When I finished, Candice’s body posture had changed. Her arms had folded across her chest the moment I mentioned Wolfe, and I thought for sure she was going to refuse my offer. I did my best to make the deal slightly sweeter. ‘‘Three months’ rent— and I’ll throw in an extra mirror for your grandmother.’’

  Candice laughed and seemed to relax a little. ‘‘You know, this Wolfe guy is known in my circle as someone you don’t want to mess with.’’

  ‘‘His reputation has reached all the way to Kalamazoo, huh?’’

  Candice nodded. ‘‘ ’Fraid so, Abs. Still, it’s obvious to me that you’re going to go poking your nose where it doesn’t belong whether or not I agree to help you, so in the interest of keeping you out of any new lines of fire, I’m tempted to say yes.’’

  ‘‘Four months, Candice, and that’s my final offer.’’ I was rewarded with another laugh and Candice’s arms uncrossed. ‘‘Again, it’s very tempting,’’ she said, tapping her finger against her lips. ‘‘But I’m a little reluctant to commit to this, because I know you could use the money.’’

  ‘‘I’m fine,’’ I said with a wave of my hand. ‘‘I’ve still got some insurance money and we just got an offer on that investment property I own.’’

  Candice nodded, but her look was still pensive. ‘‘I think what I’m getting at is a more formal agreement,’’ she said.

  ‘‘What kind of formal agreement?’’

  ‘‘Well, you’ve certainly helped me out in the past, and I’ve loved having you on my team. What would you say to forming a real partnership?’’

  The corners of my mouth turned up. I could see where she was going with this. ‘‘You want to go into business with each other?’’

  ‘‘The way I see it, you’ve let go of most of your clientele, right?’’

  I squirmed in my chair. This was smacking of the recent lectures I’d received from my boyfriend, and I was never really good at dealing with other people’s opinions. ‘‘I’m easing back into the idea of starting up again.’’

  ‘‘But in the meantime, you’ve got all this free time. What better way to keep your radar sharp than to work on my cases with me? We can hammer out some sort of hourly trade. It would really help me get estab
lished here, Abs. I could cut down on the number of hours I’d need to resolve a lot of my cases and take on more in less time. It’s win-win for me.’’

  ‘‘And you’d be willing to help me by getting to the bottom of Walter McDaniel’s murder?’’

  It was Candice’s turn to squirm. ‘‘Yes,’’ she finally said. ‘‘But there are a few conditions that I’d need you to agree to.’’

  ‘‘Like what?’’

  ‘‘Like, you’d need to put me in charge of the overall investigation. I’m serious about this Wolfe guy. I know for a fact that the FBI’s been trying to nail him for years but hasn’t been able to get him yet. He’s slippery and smart and has one hell of a nasty reputation. Plus, I personally knew someone who got caught up in Wolfe’s business and hasn’t shown up to work in two years.’’

  My eyes widened. ‘‘What happened?’’

  ‘‘One of the other PIs at my old firm took on an ex-girlfriend of Wolfe’s in a paternity suit. The PI— Darren Cox is his name— was a rookie investigator. I thought he was an idiot, but my boss saw some potential in him. Two weeks after he took on the Wolfe case, my boss gets a call from Darren. He tells him that he’s taking a vacation. He’s just won a ticket to the Caribbean and the deal was that he needed to leave immediately. We never saw or heard from Darren again. Then, an hour after Darren calls us, his client telephones. She wants to pay her bill and close the case, says it was all just a big fat misunderstanding.’’

  ‘‘My ass it was,’’ I said, feeling my radar buzz its agreement.

  ‘‘Those were our sentiments exactly,’’ Candice said.

  ‘‘Do you think Darren was paid off? Or just scared into leaving town?’’

  ‘‘Probably a little of both, so it’s important that we be discreet, Abby. Wolfe isn’t someone I want on my ass, especially given your impressions that he had a direct hand in offing McDaniel.’’

  ‘‘Got it,’’ I said, making a check sign in the air. ‘‘Be discreet.’’

  ‘‘There’s also your boyfriend to consider here,’’ she added. ‘‘Does he know you think that Bruce Lutz was just a stool pigeon?’’

  ‘‘Uh... not exactly,’’ I said, looking at my shoes.

  ‘‘By ‘not exactly’ you mean not at all, right?’’

  ‘‘That would be a fair assumption,’’ I said with a shrug. ‘‘He and Milo are all gung ho on making sure Lutz does as much time as possible. I don’t think he’d take kindly to the thought that Lutz wasn’t the triggerman.’’

  ‘‘And how do you think he’s going to feel about finding out that his girlfriend is sticking her nose into the middle of all this?’’

  ‘‘Oh, he’ll probably be totally pissy about it, which is why I vote for not telling him.’’

  ‘‘I see,’’ Candice said with a grin. ‘‘That’s fine, but you have to remember that he’s FBI, and they know stuff, you know? So if this gets back to him, you’re going to have to deal with it and make sure I’m left out of the blame game, ’kay?’’

  ‘‘Got it,’’ I said, making another check mark. ‘‘Leave Candice out of it. Anything else?’’

  ‘‘Yeah, I need to know how you’re doing physically. And don’t sugarcoat it. If I help you with this, I’ll need you along for the ride, and I’m concerned that it may wear you out so soon after your injury.’’

  ‘‘I’m okay,’’ I said with another shrug. Candice dropped her chin and gave me a ‘‘yeah, right’’ look. ‘‘Seriously,’’ I insisted. ‘‘Yes, I do get tired more easily, but as long as we’re not running any marathons I should be good to go.’’

  ‘‘Can you run at all?’’ she asked me. ‘‘There have been lots of moments I’ve needed to get the hell out of a situation fast, and throwing you over my shoulder would just slow me down.’’

  I smiled as that visual came to mind. ‘‘If I were being chased, you mean? Yes, I could probably run a short sprint, but I’d need a milk shake or some French fries or a combo like that really soon afterward, you know... to get my strength back.’’

  Candice smiled broadly. ‘‘French fries and milk shakes—the other Gatorade,’’ she said.

  ‘‘Is it in you?’’ I giggled.

  ‘‘You’re making me hungry. Still, I think it would be good if you trained with me in the mornings.’’

  ‘‘Trained with you?’’

  ‘‘Yeah. If we’re going to do this partnership right, you’ll need to get your butt in shape. I work out every morning at six a.m. sharp. In fact, before I came over here, I joined that gym right down the street from Nan’s. We’ll need to get you a membership too.’’

  ‘‘Whoa, hold on there, gal pal,’’ I said, holding up my hands. ‘‘I don’t think my physical therapist is going to go for that so soon after my injury.’’

  ‘‘Baloney,’’ Candice said. ‘‘I used to be a certified personal trainer, and I had plenty of accident recovery clients training under me. I figure your injury’s got to be similar to a car accident, and I know exactly what regimen to put you on.’’

  ‘‘Regimen? You want to put me on a regimen?’’ I asked. My heart rate picked up, and I felt my palms go sweaty. I’ll admit it: I’d gone soft in my thirties. I hadn’t done more than take a few yoga classes, along with the two flights up to my office.

  ‘‘Yeah, low on the cardio at first. You’re looking a little scrawny anyway, and we don’t want you to lose weight. We’ll build up some muscle first, then ease you into some endurance work.’’

  ‘‘Who sent you?’’ I asked, leaning way back in my chair like she was contagious. ‘‘Did my sister put you up to this?’’

  Candice laughed and reached out to put a calming hand on my knee. ‘‘Abby, relax. This will be good for you. It’ll give you confidence and you won’t be as tired all the time. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.’’

  ‘‘How about this?’’ I suggested. ‘‘How about I just come to your gym and root you on? Wouldn’t that be fun? Your own personal cheerleader!’’

  ‘‘Tomorrow morning,’’ she said to me, and her eyes meant business. ‘‘Six a.m.’’ I gulped and she continued, ‘‘Now, about that rent payment...’’

  For the next twenty minutes, we firmed up the financial part of our new partnership. Afterward, I showed Candice her office area and told her that I’d make room for her in the third room, where I kept my computer, fax machine, filing cabinets, and assorted other business equipment. ‘‘That’s okay,’’ she said at my offer. ‘‘Theresa’s old room is bigger than your reading room, and I don’t need any extra space. I can fit everything in there.’’

  ‘‘Great. Here’s the extra key, and you’ll need to see Yvonne on the third floor in the management’s office about getting a parking space assigned to you in the structure across the street. It’s a little pricey, but it beats feeding the meter every two hours.’’

  ‘‘Got it,’’ she said, taking the key. ‘‘I’m having my new office furniture delivered here tomorrow at nine a.m. Is that going to disturb your appointment schedule?’’

  I smiled. ‘‘No. I haven’t had an appointment in a long time now.’’

  ‘‘No clients are calling, huh?’’ she asked as she went around my desk to my phone, which had a little red light on it blinking furiously.

  I sighed. ‘‘Would you look at that,’’ I said as she held up the phone and pointed to the light. ‘‘Better return that call, huh?’’

  ‘‘Time to get back on the horse, Abs.’’

  ‘‘Yee-ha,’’ I said woodenly.

  ‘‘It’ll be good for you,’’ she insisted as she nosily hit the caller ID button and clicked through the calls. ‘‘Holy cow! There are like six new calls here since yesterday.’’

  ‘‘Really?’’

  Candice extended the phone toward me and I took a look. ‘‘Five-one-seven area code, hmmm. That’s the same as for Kalamazoo, isn’t it?’’

  ‘‘Coincidence,’’ she said with a smirk. ‘‘I may have told a few friends of
mine I was moving in with this really amazing psychic and they might be interested in a reading with you.’’

  ‘‘I’ll call them later,’’ I said and set the phone down.

  ‘‘Abby,’’ Candice said with a sigh.

  ‘‘I will,’’ I said as I turned around. ‘‘Really. But right now I gotta get going. I promised Dutch I’d go grocery shopping if he cooked.’’

  ‘‘Okay,’’ she said, but she didn’t look convinced.

  I left Candice in the office to make a few phone calls and get acquainted with her new surroundings. As I hurried to my car, my cell phone beeped. ‘‘Hey there, Cat!’’ I said happily. ‘‘I was just about to call you.’’

  ‘‘So you got my message?’’

  ‘‘Dutch said you called while I was taking a nap, and I’m so glad you did, because we got an offer on Fern!’’ I said excitedly. I was really hoping that I could convince her through my enthusiasm that no matter what the offer, we needed to close on that house before Dave went crazy.

  ‘‘How much?’’ I told her and there was a slight pause on her end. Then I heard the sound of fingers clicking on a calculator. ‘‘That’s not bad,’’ she said when she came up with our profit. ‘‘We should counter for ten grand more.’’

  I stifled a groan. ‘‘Huh,’’ I said instead.

  ‘‘What’s, ‘huh’?’’

  ‘‘Oh, nothing. Just... my radar is buzzing like crazy!’’

  ‘‘Really?’’ she asked, and I could imagine her leaning in over her desk and giving me her full attention. ‘‘What’s the crew saying?’’

  ‘‘Well, the moment you said counteroffer, I really felt my left side go heavy....’’

  ‘‘Your sign for no,’’ she said.

  ‘‘Yep. And then when you said to counter by ten thousand, I saw the back of this couple walking away.’’

  ‘‘I see,’’ she said, and again I could just see her deep in thought, nodding her head. ‘‘So your radar says that if we counter we’ll lose the deal?’’