The dying five, p.20
The Dying Five, page 20
Stephen pulled his diagram back up. It looked different than last time, with more information typed into the shapes and along the arrows. There were even more arrows this time, pointing this way and that, displaying how the people and events were connected.
“There are three situations, and only two fully solved with evidence,” Stephen continued. He glanced at Shelly. Wait, what? I thought we had three situations, with only one solved. We knew about the fraud scheme, but we did not know who killed Eric or Heather. Is one of the latter now solved? Why am I the last to know these things? I took some deep breaths and tried to relax. I was having a headache-free day and wanted to keep it that way.
“You know I visited Abe Mason, Georgia Moore, and Scott Peterson at the governor’s office. The recording from their meeting with Elaine proved to be what they needed to back off,” Shelly said. We know this. I wasn’t sure why we were reviewing that part.
“Unless they killed Heather,” Mary interjected.
“I don’t think so,” Shelly said. “We can rule out their involvement in Eric’s death.”
“How so?” Mary asked. “They didn’t admit to it, but that’s not substantial evidence they didn’t do it.”
“I agreed with you, until yesterday,” Stephen said. Then he typed on his tablet keyboard and brought up a flood of emails on one of The Situation Room monitors. Mary and I sat still while reading through the emails. I fumed internally that Stephen and Shelly had known about this since yesterday. Mary and I had been on pins and needles over every aspect of this case. I remained quiet, but I was stewing.
“Holy wow!” Mary exclaimed. “These emails describe Nadine’s plan to kill Eric with Heather’s help! Nadine and Heather colluded? To kill Eric?”
“It seems so,” Shelly said. “The entirety of the emails, which they thought they had deleted, reveal that Heather was at Scott Peterson’s party, and when she saw Eric and Shana leave in an Uber, she tipped Nadine off that Eric was on his way home.”
“But wait,” I said. “Why? What would Nadine gain from killing Eric? What would Heather gain?”
“That’s one of the missing pieces. Motive. Neither of them would have benefited financially from Eric’s death. Not even Elaine benefited. She inherited the headache.” Stephen said, looking at me and grimacing at his reference. I gave him my best “it’s okay” look, accepting his unspoken apology. Then it occurred to me I’d not told TD5 yet about my tumor. Holy hell, was Stephen reading my medical records? Or had he simply been observant and knew I was suffering? “I have a theory, but it’s not tight,” Stephen continued. “I would need to hear it from Nadine’s mouth. None of their emails gave hints about motive. In fact, as you can see, they tried to talk in code, and kept their exchanges as concise as possible.”
I read the email displayed on the screen. Give me a heads up tonight. Need thirty-minute leeway. Both echoes will be present. Only one echo will go down.
“What’s an echo?” I asked.
“That's the military alphabet for the letter E. Which, in this case, must be Eric. Two echoes referred to Eric and Elaine,” Stephen explained. “They thought Elaine would be with Eric that night. When things got switched up, Heather, also at the party, must have texted Nadine to tell her they were on their way and that it was Shana with him, not Elaine. What Nadine didn’t anticipate was Shana would run to Eric’s aid. She assumed the car was pulling away and wouldn’t stop. Eric would be left on his porch to die. She waited and watched. When Shana arrived on the scene, Nadine fired another shot to scare her.”
“Seems like Nadine had shooting precision,” I said. “Was Nadine former military or law enforcement? I mean, I’m no Sherlock Holmes...” I said.
“I am!” Mary chimed in. “And I was getting ready to make the same conclusion. Nadine must be ex-military. How else would she be able to make that shot from that distance, and take a shot that came that close to Shana without hitting her?”
“The other explanation would be that she was trained on how to use a firearm,” I said. “For self-protection. As a trans person and a lawyer, she might be afraid of a personal attack.”
“Any other thoughts?” Stephen asked. “Because I know the story.”
“Of course you do,” Mary said, her tone slightly contemptuous.
“You’re all close, though, so pat yourselves on the back,” Stephen said. Mary tried to reach her arm around to pat her back, but only got to her shoulder. “Nadine was from a military family. Her father and two of her brothers served in the Army and Navy. It’s not a stretch to think that Nadine and her brothers were all well-trained to use firearms. Her father was special forces in Vietnam, with several commendations, including a Purple Heart. He went on to be an operative for the CIA. Retired about twelve years ago and died three years ago.”
“I liked Nadine,” Mary said. “She seemed nice. I knew she wasn’t innocent of wrongdoing, but I can’t believe she murdered Eric.”
“And I liked Heather,” Shelly said. “So, I have the same questions you do, Mary. But now we cannot ask Heather what happened or why they did it.”
“What is your theory, Stephen?” I asked. “Why did Nadine and Heather conspire to kill Eric?” My head was starting to pound. I rubbed my temples and took some deep breaths. I laid back in the recliner. Stephen looked at me with concern.
“Are you okay, Callie?” Mary asked, walking over to me and placing her hand on my arm.
“I’m good, Mary, thank you. Just tired.” Mary’s eyes didn’t leave mine. She knew I wasn’t being honest. I was going to have to fess up sooner or later, but now was not the time.
“Kids. My theory is kids,” Stephen said. “If you recall, Talia mentioned that she, Geoff, and Nadine started a trans youth support program. They cared about kids' wellbeing and safety. Nadine figured out that Green Playscapes was going to move forward with the formula after leaving Legal Earth, and she also somehow found out it made people sick. But the people who got sick in Story were all adults. They had no idea what the formula would do to kids. If it made adults sick, it stands to reason it might make kids really sick, or worse.”
“Okay,” I said. “That makes sense, but only for Nadine. What about Heather?”
“That’s what I thought,” Shelly said. “But when I was rifling through Heather’s desk, I saw a brochure for the trans youth program. In the program were pictures of the staff, volunteers, and some of the kids. Heather was in the picture. She was a mentor in the program too, probably recruited by Nadine when they’d worked on the Green Playscapes EPA paperwork together.”
The four of us sat in silence processing the new information. There was so much to take in. Mary pulled out her printed copy of Stephen’s diagram and was making notes. “If I didn’t know better, I would say Nadine killed Heather to keep her quiet in case Heather had a crisis of conscience.”
“But you know better?” Shelly asked.
“Oh yes, I do. Nadine was at work when Heather was killed. She has an alibi.”
“Mary, this would have been nice to know yesterday. This is why I want you to keep me on speakerphone when you do your undercover bits,” Stephen said, his voice ticked up a notch.
Mary was unphased. “Stick a sock in it, Stephen. I don’t need you hovering about when I’m undercover. You’re a brilliant computer guy, I’ll give you that. But I bet your acting is terrible. Besides, you’ve known about who killed Eric since yesterday,” Mary said, waving her diagram in Stephen’s face. “And Nadine is gone, gone, gone, at the moment, so what does the timing matter?”
Stephen indeed stuck a sock in it, silently acknowledging Mary had a point. If my observation was correct, Stephen was fuming on the inside that he didn’t have one hundred percent of the information one hundred percent of the time. Poor Stephen. Welcome to the club.
“If Nadine didn’t kill Heather, who did?” I asked. “Any theories, Stephen?”
Stephen shook his head. “Now that Nadine is ruled out, not a one.”
We sat in silence again, staring at Stephen’s diagram. A couple of questions still nagged at me, and although it had nothing to do with anything, I could get answers from Shelly, since she ran The Columbarium. “Why was Will Moore one of the guys who would pick up the van to get it serviced? And why did they use a cover truck with Dave’s Auto Service emblem on the side?” It wasn’t relevant to the current conversation, but I couldn’t shake the need to know.
“Oh that!” Shelly responded. “I had asked Georgia a while back if Will would mind doing some little things here and there for the cause. This was before all this mess, of course. She said her son Will would be happy to help. He only did it a few times, though. He paid somebody who worked at Dave’s to do the oil change on the side, cash under the table.”
Well, that was a much more reasonable explanation than I anticipated. Not nefarious at all. No wonder I was chasing my tail trying to track him down at Dave’s Auto Shop. I wonder why Shelly and Stephen let me chase that lead? To keep me busy while they gathered more evidence on their own? I thought about dragging that out, but it was in the past. I moved on. “And what about the cameras in the van? The monitoring?” I raised both eyebrows at Shelly.
“That was Larry’s idea before he died. He wanted to make sure TD5 were safe. If there was an accident, the system in the van would call for help immediately. Since then, new technology has made the need for the cameras obsolete, but we left them in there, which came in handy when someone spilled something all over the van,” Shelly winked at Mary, “That way it could be cleaned up quickly.”
Mary hooted. “I remember that slushy!” We all laughed. It was a therapeutic laugh. We forgot about all the horrors of the last month for a few seconds and my simmering irritation evaporated. Mary, ever the sleuth, brought us back to reality. “So how are we going to find out who killed Heather?”
“Callie, when are Geoff and Nadine due back?” Stephen asked.
“I’m not sure, but I can find out.” I picked up my phone and texted Geoff under the guise that Felicia wanted to know when he’d be returning to the support group but couldn’t find where she’d written down his number. He texted back immediately.
“They’re coming back tomorrow,” I said.
“We’d better get a plan in motion, then!” Mary said. I bet her wheels were already turning.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Rachel was cooking something delicious. Not only was she a great masseuse, but she was also a magnificent cook. The smells emanating from the kitchen suggested she was making my favorite dish, Marchand de Vin, a red wine reduction we poured over a medium rare steak for me and roasted potatoes for her. I entered the kitchen to find Shana seasoning the potatoes and Rachel stirring the sauce. They had apparently consumed more of the red wine than had gone in the recipe, because they were laughing hysterically. I was filled with joy at the sight of them carrying on. Even the music choice had improved, Marvin Gaye. Nice, Rachel. My favorite food and one of my favorite artists. Smooth. Come to find out, Shana had picked the music, because it was also Pop Pop’s favorite.
While we ate the scrumptious dinner in our cramped dining nook, Shana asked me about how things were going with TD5. I wasn’t sure how much to share because her emotions needed a vacation from all of it. She felt better, she said, and wanted to know everything, so I told her everything. She was shocked at the news of Heather and Nadine. She put her fork down. I quickly explained Stephen’s thoughtful rationale about why they may have taken Eric’s life, not that it excused the execution. If Eric had moved forward with the formula, it could have hurt kids, at the very least. If he were dead, it would put a halt to everything, buying Heather some time to get it right, make it safe. Heather had believed she could still do it, given a little more time.
Before Shana could weigh in, Rachel lost her cool. “Cal! What in the actual hell? When is this going to stop? You know these people, the ones who murdered Eric Graham?” She was livid, and although she had a right to be, I wasn’t in the mood. Rachel learned long ago she would be kept in the dark about some of my work. It was one of our “things” we’d discussed when we became a couple. I needed to keep some work stuff private, and so did she. Protected health information and all that. Some of the special activities of TD5 became clear over time, and Rachel mostly honored our rules of confidentiality, only occasionally asking if things were going okay. I always assured her they were. Now, they were not.
“Yes, sweetheart.” I had no other response.
“Don’t you sweetheart me, Callie O’Malley.” There it goes, my whole name. Rachel was getting ready to let me have it. Fortunately, with Shana there, she simmered down. I would get the brunt of it at bedtime when she had me all to herself.
“I wonder...” Shana said, thoughtfully chewing her steak. “Why did Nadine leave in such a hurry to go on this trip with Geoff if she didn’t have anything to do with Heather’s murder?”
“I thought about that. Geoff did seem to indicate it was a rushed trip.” I felt Rachel kick me under the table. Enough talk about murders at dinner. But Shana wasn’t done asking questions, and Rachel wasn’t going to kick Shana. Shana took the temperature and decided to wait.
I got up to clear the table, my job when Rachel cooked. Shana got up to help, and Rachel left to walk the dogs, grunting the entire time. I washed, and Shana dried.
“Do you think it’s possible Nadine was afraid of something or someone, and that’s why she left on a trip in such a hurry?” Shana asked.
“I don’t know, but according to her colleagues at Legal Earth, she was at work when Heather was killed. Of course, if they’d noticed something strange, they wouldn’t have necessarily told Mary about it. And Nadine didn’t know about Heather’s death, according to one of the other attorneys, until right before her flight took off. Nadine could have been faking shock and sadness, I guess.”
“Hmmm,” Shana murmured. Suddenly, she stopped drying the plate and grabbed my arm. “Did you all check Heather’s apartment camera footage?”
“What?” I got excited. “Heather had cameras in her apartment?”
“Yes, someone tried to break into her apartment last year and she placed hidden cameras in her living room and bedroom. She showed me when we were all over there once. I think Mark helped her install them when they were dating.”
“Shana, that’s brilliant!”
She smiled. “Glad I could help.”
I grabbed my phone and texted Stephen.
Chapter Fifty-Four
“What is so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” Shelly demanded. “I got home from Kroger and there was Miguel, his big, beautiful, SUV sitting in my driveway. He was telling me I needed to come with him. He said you have something very important to show me. I told Miguel I was tired and was turning in soon. He coaxed me with those mysterious dark eyes, but just barely.” Shelly wanted nothing more right now than to have Miguel drive her straight home. Stephen said nothing, which made Shelly want to leave even more. He’s insufferable, this man.
“Trust me, you’re going to want to see this.” Stephen tapped on one of the three keyboards on his desk.
“Is it monkeys flying out of your butt?” Shelly asked just to see if he was listening to a word she said, and to get a rise out of him. “Because if not, I’m not interested.” Stephen maintained his silence. Shelly’s head was about to explode. She was thinking of something else indelicate to say to Stephen when he pointed to one of his six monitors on the wall. Shelly studied the image. There was a couch with two end tables, a coffee table, and Heather was sitting on her couch. Stephen clicked on his keyboard and video rolled. Heather got up from reading a book to answer the door, but the camera didn’t follow. It wasn’t a motion camera, and there was no sound. Heather let someone in the door, and they stood by the coffee table. All Shelly could make out from the figure on the screen was a tall and slender woman, dressed in jeans and a dark sweatshirt. Their body language made it clear they were arguing. The woman was flailing her arms around and Heather was pacing. Then Heather turned toward the woman and shook her finger at the woman. The woman then made prayer hands near her chest and moved them back and forth, like she was pleading with Heather. Heather turned her back to the woman, shaking her head. The woman then stormed out of the apartment.
“This is what you kidnapped me for? Heather had a fight in her living room with some woman? A woman we cannot see?” Shelly stood, grabbed her coat, and steadied herself with the arm of the chair.
“Just wait.” Stephen didn’t take his eyes off the screen. “There’s more.”
Shelly sighed loudly and sat back down. She watched the screen. Stephen had obviously already seen the footage, and knew what happened, so why didn’t he just tell her about it over the phone? Because it’s Stephen. He thinks he has a reason for everything. Mostly to protect himself with limited phone calls and no video calls. Shelly had to admit he had a heart for TD5. And Shelly herself was to blame for getting them all into this.
It had been about two minutes when there must have been another knock at Heather’s door, because she slammed her book down and got up again. Maybe Heather thought the same woman was returning because she looked perturbed. But it wasn’t the woman. Another figure appeared in the frame. This new visitor was a man, or least it seemed to be, with broad shoulders and muscles that could be seen through his sweatshirt. Like the woman, he was dressed all in black. They could not see his face, either. Who set these cameras up? For goodness sakes, they’re nearly useless. Or perhaps over time the camera angle has been moved. Cheap cameras get knocked around. Shelly’s cameras were installed by professionals, which was the way to go. Of course, Heather probably couldn’t afford that expense. Shelly knew what her salary was.
