THE LAST TWO DAYS before the election the campaign got ugly, really ugly. The Knight organization struggled to maintain a dignified approach while being slammed with one negative ad after another. Sometimes there was a smidgeon of truth in an ad, but most often they contained made up stories to get the voters agitated enough to turn out and to cast their ballot for Bobby Mann.
By the time Monday morning rolled around, I was going stir crazy. Hopefully my chat with Randy Mann had assured him that I was harmless, because I was headed for the office. Even if someone else was responsible for the two murders, I doubted I was in danger anymore. Just in case, I had my Victorinox, pepper spray and a siren alarm with me. Overkill perhaps, but it gave me some confidence that I could defend myself if necessary.
When I reached my Subaru, I almost set off the siren alarm instead of the remote to the car door. I would have to learn how to juggle the two more efficiently if I was going to carry both on the same keychain.
Nothing unusual happened on the way to the mall. If someone was following me, they were very good at it. Once there, I was lucky enough to find a parking spot close to the entrance. As I made my way through the sparse crowd, I didn’t notice anyone paying unusual attention to me, and I arrived at the office without incident.
I barely had time to pour myself a cup of coffee when I was told that we had a new client. I vowed to put the campaign murders, as I had come to think of them, out of my mind. But it wasn’t easy. Assisting Adele with an asset search in a child custody case wasn’t engaging enough to hold my attention. And Yuri wasn’t helping. He was on another trivia kick. This time it was on names of animal groups. He and Jason had been trying to come up with names that suggested the animals themselves. The names were supposed to be authentic, and they weren’t supposed to look online for answers. Although I was pretty sure Yuri was cheating when he suddenly shouted: “An obstinacy of buffalos.”
“A shrewdness of apes,” I called back. I had done my homework in preparation for just such an opportunity to one-up Yuri.
“A piddle of puppies,” he said with a smirk.
“A jerk of jokers. And a clatter of clowns.”
“Not nice,” he tut-tutted.
“Next time check with me first.”
“He’s a sweet dog.”
“He’s an additional dependent. And he doesn’t bathe or feed himself.”
“Jason is thrilled with him.”
He had me there. I had even caught Mom giving him a doggie treat and mumbling something in dog language.
The rest of the day dragged by. I left early and sat in the parking lot trying to decide whether to call the number I had looked up earlier. It was just a hunch, partly the result of a conversation with my mother. But the possibility had been at the back of my mind for a while. And now that the election was almost upon us and Brian’s research seemed to be long gone, I was feeling more secure. Finally, my fingers took over for my better judgment and I dialed the number.
I heard the voice of Ashley Mann tentatively say, “Hello?” She obviously hadn’t recognized my number on her private cell. But she had taken a chance and answered. Too bad for her.
“My name is Cameron Chandler,” I said. “I knew Brian Norcross and Jim Gossett.” I paused, waiting for her response.
“Sorry,” she said after a tick too long. “I’m afraid those names mean nothing to me.”
“I’m certain you will remember Jim when I show you the picture of the two of you together at the Oktoberfest parade.”
Another pause. “There were a lot of people at that parade,” she said. But she didn’t hang up.
“Perhaps we should talk face to face,” I suggested on impulse.
“It’s the night before the election. I have a lot to do.”
“The returns won’t be coming in until tomorrow. And you may not need to get ready for a celebration. It depends.”
“On what?” She was beginning to sound nervous. I had a feeling my little lie was actually based on fact, an elusive fact that I didn’t actually possess.
“On what I’m offered for the picture.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then I guess this conversation is over.” I pretended to be about to hang up.
“No, wait,” she said hurriedly. “I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding, but perhaps we should talk.”
“Where can we meet?” I was going to leave it up to her. It would be interesting to see what she proposed.
After a moment’s pause, she said, “How about that park near our headquarters? I could be there at the kiddy swimming pool at 8:00.”
Aha, after dark in the middle of the park. That was fast thinking on her part, and from my point of view, the location did not bode well for a date with a murder suspect. “I’ll be there,” I said and hung up before she could change her mind. And before I could change my mind.
If I was really going to do this, I would need back-up. I saw Yuri leaving the building and hurried to catch up with him. When I told him what I’d done, he seemed angry. “If you really believe she’s a murderer, then why on earth would you agree to a meeting in the park?”
“She won’t confess in a public place,” I said. “It’s not as if I have any proof.”
“So, what are you going to do? Ask politely if she killed two men?”
“I was hoping you could help me figure that out.”
“Dammit, Cameron, if you’re right, this could be a dangerous move.”
“I don’t have to go,” I said.
“But you gave her your real name. And you called her from your cell phone. You can’t say, ‘Oh, sorry, just kidding.’”
“But what if she’s responsible for the murders of two people? She might not have done it herself, but she could have hired it done. Given how she responded to my call, we have to at least consider the possibility.”
“We aren’t in the criminal prosecution business. Our mission is not to ‘right wrongs’ or ‘seek revenge.’ We’re investigators; we work for other people, not for ourselves.” Yuri got out his cell. “Let’s see if P.W. is still around. Although I think she left early to go somewhere.”
Yuri confirmed through Blaine that P.W. was occupied for the evening and shouldn’t be interrupted except for an extreme emergency. Fortunately, Grant was still in the office. Blaine put Yuri through to Grant and he agreed to meet us at the nearby Starbucks without questioning why. After all, we were a team.
A half hour later we were sitting across from Grant, explaining the situation. When we finished, Grant looked at me and said, “I do understand why you called her, but I’m not sure it was a good idea.”
Yuri jumped in to defend me, sort of. “Well, it’s done. The question is how we make the best of it. You in?”
“I will understand if you don’t want to be,” I said quickly.
“I didn’t say that. I’ve done stupid things before.” He smiled. “Maybe we’ll nail a murderer. That would be good.”
“It’s too bad you didn’t get her to admit to something on the phone,” Yuri said.
“She was hardly going to confess on the phone,” I argued. “But I should have been recording our conversation. I don’t know why I didn’t think to do that.”
“That would have been a good idea,” Grant agreed. “But I doubt she would have said anything specific in an initial call. Still, the only way this is going to work is to record her saying something incriminating that we can take to the police. We need to figure out what bait you can dangle. She will want to know what evidence you have and who else might know about it before she shows her hand. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t dangerous right out of the starting gate.”
“We can’t take anything for granted,” Yuri said.
“You armed?” Grant asked. He sounded so matter-of-fact, like asking whether I wore clothes when I went to work.
“No.”
“I have a gun she can use. I don’t live far away,” Yuri said. This was sounding far more serious than I’d originally planned for.
“And I have a couple of in-ear two-way communication devices we can use,” Grant said. Of course, he did. He was, after all, experienced and cautious, not like me, putting myself out there without thinking it through.
We spent the next half hour discussing what I could say that might provoke Ashley into making an admission and that could be used to prove her guilt, or to at least provide sufficient cause to consider her a suspect. It was a balancing act. If I didn’t push hard enough, she wouldn’t confess to anything. But if I pushed too hard, she might retaliate in the moment. Even with back-up nearby I needed to be prepared.
We agreed to meet about two blocks from the park at 7:30 to set everything up. Meanwhile, I went home to organize the kids’ dinner and make sure Mom knew I would be gone for a few hours. I didn’t tell her the truth about what I was up to, just that Yuri and I had an errand we needed to run. She gave me a look that let me know she guessed there was more to it, but she didn’t object. I’m lucky she likes spending time with her grandchildren.
I arrived about 7:20 and found a spot on the street that was far enough from the corner streetlight that I didn’t feel like I was calling attention to myself. The park wasn’t large and well-manicured, but there were still lots of trees and rows of neatly trimmed bushes. At night, walking down a path lined with trees, even well-spaced trees, can feel spooky. I had been at this park with the kids once in the daylight and vaguely remembered the winding path to the kiddy pool. It would be easy for Ashley to waylay me in the dark. Still, I agreed with Grant and Yuri that she probably wouldn’t attack until when and if she knew what I had on her and felt confident that she could stop me from using it. One way or another.
When the door opened on the passenger side of the car I was startled. I hadn’t seen anyone coming. I turned, expecting to see Yuri or Grant. Instead, there was Ashley with a gun pointed at me. She obviously wasn’t going to adhere to our plan.
“Let’s go,” she said. The former Seafair Princess wasn’t smiling. In that moment, she didn’t look like reigning royalty. More like Uma Thurman in Kill Bill.
“Where?” I said. Come on Yuri, Grant, you can save me any time now.
“I said ‘let’s go.’ Start the engine.”
“Why can’t we talk here?”
“Because my guess is that you don’t have the original picture with you. That’s what blackmailer’s do. They leave the original in some safe place so they can keep asking for more. Well, that’s not going to happen to me. We’re going to wherever you have the original and any copies. We’re going to end this little charade right now.”
“I don’t think you want to do that,” I said, stalling for time.
“Just start the car.” She nudged me with her gun. There was a clunking sound as her gun met my gun. “Oh, what’s this?” She reached over and put her hand in my pocket. “Expecting trouble?” she asked with a smile that definitely did not give me a warm feeling.
“There doesn’t have to be any trouble,” I said, trying to sound reasonable.
“Start the damn engine!” she yelled. The sound of her angry voice echoed in the small space.
I switched on the key and floored the gas without putting it in gear, trying to flood the engine. It didn’t work. Any other time it would have, but this time my car simply roared with energy. “Sorry,” I said. “You’re making me nervous. But you really don’t want me to go to my place. It’s my mother’s bridge night. And the kids have friends there. It will be public.”
She paused. Then she said, “If you behave, nothing will happen. We will go in and get the picture, and that will be that.”
“But you will be seen. How do I explain you being with me?”
“I’m sure you will think of something. You’re a clever woman.” Somehow it didn’t feel like a compliment.
“You do know that I got it online.” Stall for time, I kept telling myself. Stall for time.
She hesitated then said, “One picture doesn’t prove anything.”
“You’re right,” I said, perhaps too quickly. “I just hoped I could draw you out with it.” She seemed to hesitate again; perhaps my screwy logic was making some sense to her. Then the expression on her face changed, from mean to downright nasty.
“You’re just like them,” she said angrily. “You think you can outsmart me, take advantage of me.”
“Them?” I asked.
“They think we’re all west coast bumpkins.”
Bumpkins? Somehow that didn’t sound like a word in Ashley’s vocabulary, maybe Randy’s though. “You mean the Mann family?” Come on, keeping talking.
“Yes, the precious Mann family. It’s all about helping their Bobbykins get elected. They don’t give a shit about me.” She seemed eager to talk, to voice her frustration. But the fact that she was willing to tell all to me about her family problems was not encouraging. Still, as long as she was talking, she wasn’t shooting.
“But you’re his wife, you’re in all of the campaign pictures. They need you.”
“Really? You think so?” She suddenly sounded hopeful, like I was confirming her dream. Then the corners of her mouth turned down, back to the wicked witch look.
“His ‘we’re so good because we’re from the east coast’ mother even went so far as to inform me that we shouldn’t start a family yet. Can you imagine? She wants to control everything about our lives.” Mom was right, the family considered Ashley expendable. If it hadn’t been for the gun pointed at me, I might have felt sorry for her.
“That makes sense to me. Campaigns can be stressful. There’s plenty of time later to have children.”
“And if he loses, that would make it easier….” Her frown grew deeper, lines appearing on her otherwise smooth forehead. “Not that I wanted to ruin my figure with a baby anyway.”
“What does Bobby say?”
All at once her voice went up a few octaves, loud and emotional: “He goes along with his family, no matter what. That’s why….” She stopped talking and the gun wavered. I thought briefly about making a play for it, but before I could make a move, she steadied the gun and pointed it at my midsection.
“That’s why I gave Brian the lowdown on some of the family’s less savory activities.”
“You?” I admit it, she completely surprised me with that bit of information.
“He promised not to use anything I told him until after the election. Then he crossed me by talking to that reporter friend of yours. I had no choice but to tell Randy.”
“Ouch. I bet he didn’t like that.”
“He’s an officious asshole.”
“That’s something we agree on.”
She looked at me with an almost wistful look. “I’m sorry about this, but I have to protect my husband.”
“I’ll give you the picture,” I said again. “Then it’s over.”
“That’s what Jim said. But I knew he couldn’t be trusted.” She paused. “And I don’t think you can be either.” She took a deep breath and said firmly, “Let’s go. Now!”
I couldn’t think of any other way to postpone the inevitable and was about to put my car in gear when everything was suddenly lit up. As if someone on a set had yelled for lights. Against the glare I could barely make out a car with its brights on facing us; there was another one behind with its brights on. We were blocked in and spotlighted.
“This was a set-up,” Ashley said, her voice and her gun shaking.
“Yes, and if you shoot me, I think they will probably shoot you. So why don’t you put the gun down and get out of the car.” Please put the gun down. Please put it down. Please don’t shoot me.
Someone tapped on the back window on the passenger side and I hit the button to lower it before she could tell me not to. Yuri leaned in and put his gun against the back of her head. “Drop it,” he said, somewhat melodramatically.
For just a moment I thought she was going to shoot me out of spite. Instead, she put the gun on the dash and said, “You can’t prove anything. She pulled a gun on me and I defended myself.” She was quick with the excuses, very quick and almost convincing.
“Step out of the car,” Yuri ordered.
Ashley straightened her slim shoulders and got out of the car. As I watched I noticed another car down the block. A dark sedan. It hadn’t been there when I first arrived. Was it Ashley’s? Why hadn’t I seen it drive up?
Grant had a pair of handcuffs and turned Ashley around to cuff her. “You can’t do that,” she said.
“I just did.”
“I’m calling Connolly,” I said.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the dark sedan drive off. Not Ashley’s car after all.
Connolly answered on the first ring. When I gave him a brief overview of the situation, he immediately said he was on his way, and that he’d have officers on the scene within minutes.
“You aren’t police,” Ashley said. “You can’t detain me like this.” She was still agitated, but she was starting to sound less crazy. She tried to shake off Grant’s grip on her arm, but he held on. Meanwhile, Yuri turned off the brights, but left both cars where they were.
“The police are on their way,” Grant said. “You’ll get a chance to tell your side of the story.”
“You can’t do this to me,” she said again. Then she started crying and whipping her body from side to side. “Let me go!” she screamed. “You let me go!”
“It’s over, Ashley. You killed two men. You’re not going anywhere.” This was my chance to get her to say something incriminating. Unfortunately, she might be scared and frantic, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she was still thinking rationally about what was in her own best interest.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You were trying to blackmail me. You’re the one who should be in handcuffs.”
She was good, I had to admit it, but in her panic, she’d never asked about where I’d gotten the photo. “Ashley, how could I possible blackmail you with a photo that’s in the public domain. I don’t have the original. I came across it searching back issues of the newspaper.”
Her expression changed for just a moment as she processed the information. But then her mask dropped back into place as the squad cars pulled up. Yuri handed the officers her gun and gave a high-level summary of what had taken place. Ashley demanded that they take off the cuffs, and Grant agreed to do so if the officers promised to keep an eye on her until Connolly arrived.
The officers looked confused, but fortunately they had been instructed to keep all of us there and wait for Connolly. When he arrived just a few minutes later, he also looked confused. I tried to explain why we were all there and what had occurred even as Ashley kept talking over me, accusing me of accosting her with a gun and trying to blackmail her. She was obviously distressed and at times more emotional than coherent. Grant tried unsuccessfully to intervene a couple of times to get her to calm down. Yuri just stood back and watched.
In the end, Connolly couldn’t put all of the pieces together while standing on the sidewalk surrounded by bewildered police officers and chaos. He instructed one of the officers to take Ashley to police headquarters and asked Yuri and me to get in Grant’s car and follow him downtown. On the way I called Mom to tell her I was going to be later than I’d anticipated and wasn’t sure exactly when I’d be back. “I’ll expect an explanation tomorrow,” she warned when I declined to say more.
It turned out to be a long night, a very long night. We all had to give individual statements. And Connolly insisted on personally talking to each of us one at a time. Grant was the first to be released. There was some question about his right to handcuff Ashley, but under the circumstances, he wasn’t going to be charged with assault. He left a message for us saying that he would try to contact P.W. and let her know what was happening. Apparently, what we had done qualified as an “emergency,” or else Grant felt like his long relationship with P.W. gave him the right to make a judgement call in spite of Blaine’s directive.
Since what we had done had not been a sanctioned part of any existing assignment, I couldn’t help wondering if this was it, if this time we had finally crossed a line that would result in ending our employment with Penny-wise. I felt bad that I had involved Yuri and Grant. But at the same time, I was also very thankful that I had.
Yuri was told he could go next, but he hung around and waited for me. Connolly read me the riot act before asking about the pictures. When I admitted I’d been bluffing and I had indeed found the photo by combing through old newspaper reports on the campaigns, he almost smiled. Almost. “It was a hairbrained idea, and you put the lives of you and your colleagues at risk. You do understand that, don’t you?”
“But she’s guilty of murder,” I protested.
“You don’t have any proof,” he countered.
“If things had gone as planned, I would have recorded our conversation. But just given how she responded to my mention of a picture of her and Jim together, don’t you think she’s guilty?”
“What I think doesn’t count. It’s what I can prove that does.”
“Doesn’t what happened tonight give you enough to at least search her home or something?”
“She’s got a lawyer on the way here now. My guess is she won’t say anything more than she already has, he’ll make noise about how anything she said tonight was under duress and can’t be used against her, and she’ll be released. Just like the three of you. No judge will issue a search warrant based on these conflicting stories.”
“But you know I’m telling the truth.”
Connolly looked sad. “Yes, I believe you. But the best I can promise is to look into it.”
“Thank you.”
“And in return, I want you to promise me that you won’t even think about talking to anyone related to the campaign until I get back to you. Got that?”
“Got it.”
“And no reporters. If they come after you, the phrase you’ll be using is ‘no comment.’”
“Got it.”
He added one last thing as I left, “And, Cameron, watch your back.”
An officer told us there was someone waiting downstairs. When we came out of the building there was Grant, our reliable team member. He hadn’t left when he’d been released but had hung around to make sure we were okay and to drive us back to our cars. On the way he reported on his conversation with P.W. The bottom line was that although she’d been annoyed, she hadn’t been surprised. We were all to be in her office first thing tomorrow.
That was becoming a habit.