| |
JILLIAN
Jillian answered the imperious knocking at Sadira’s door. “Good. You’re here.”
They hugged. Karina, dressed in a chic black pencil skirt and blouse, her long chestnut hair pulled back into a French twist, made Jillian feel a bit shabby in her jeans and green George Mason University T-shirt. However, in a moment clothing would be the least of her concerns. For the past half hour, Jillian had been having second thoughts about inviting her sister over. It was too late now, so with a tone of trepidation, Jillian said, “You’d better follow me.”
Karina sucked wind as she entered the kitchen. “Jilly! What have you done?!”
A swath of credit card bills and bank statements lay across the long counter. Jillian blanched, wringing her hands. “I needed to pick up some more cat food. A-and I picked up Sadira’s mail while I was here.”
“Jillian Sarah Cardinal! What were you thinking! Opening another person’s mail is a federal offense!” Karina exclaimed, flapping her hands in dismay.
“Relax. I didn’t open her mail. It’s over there.” Jillian pointed to a small stack on the coffee table.
“If you didn’t open it, where did this come from?”
“Uh . . . the desk drawer.”
Karina’s gaze speared her sister.
Jillian put up her palms. “Rina, just listen before you freak out on me.”
Karina crossed her arms and her mouth settled into a grim frown. “Go on.”
“Things aren’t adding up.” Jillian paced away, rubbing her hands together. “The diamonds. Sadira lying to me. Driving that young girl to the party last night.” Karina opened her mouth to interrupt, but Jillian hurried on with her explanation. “Just listen, that courier job. And what happened earlier today. Everything is—I don’t know—hinky.”
“Wait. What happened today?”
Jillian rubbed her forehead. “I guess I should start from the beginning.”
“That’s usually the best place to start,” Karina drawled. “You can begin by telling me why you skipped out on work this morning.”
“It was Ara. I had this—this bad feeling about her. You did too.” She pointed. “Oh, you can give me that blank lawyer stare, but I saw it.”
Karina sighed. “Well, you can rest easy. I ended up taking Ara home last night.” She went on to explain the unexpected rescue of Ara at the High 7.
When she finished, Jillian was momentarily stymied. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she could form a response. “Huh. Well, I guess it’s a good thing you gave Ara your number.”
“You see, the courier job must be legitimate.”
“Yes . . . well, that’s . . . certainly a relief, but there are other things that don’t add up.”
“And those things led to this?” Karina indicated the paperwork.
“Hear me out.”
Karina put her hands on her hips. “I’m listening.”
Jillian’s handwringing resumed. “First, Sadira lying to me just hasn’t been sitting right.”
“I can understand that.”
“And . . . and . . . I began to think what else did she lie about. Maybe she did steal the diamonds. She had the means, but what’s the motive?”
Karina’s brows rose. “Did you find a motive among her bills?”
“Not what I was expecting to find. But I did find something strange.”
“Go on.”
“Look here, these are her credit card bills.” Jillian picked up a sheaf of papers. “She’s got a gas credit card, and a VISA. The gas one is normal. Regular fill-ups. Nothing unusual.”
“And the VISA?” Karina didn’t touch the papers Jillian held toward her.
“From what I can tell, she puts her groceries on here, drugstore purchases, and stuff—you know, average day-to-day stuff.” Jillian put the bills down.
“Okay. . . .”
“And she pays it off every month. She’s carrying no debt.”
“I would imagine that’s a good thing,” Karina stated.
Jillian opened her mouth, then closed it and swallowed. “You know what, it’s best if I show you, follow me.” She led her sister through Sadira’s bedroom into the large closet. “What do you see?”
Karina shrugged with palms up. “A bunch of clothes?”
“Exactly.” Jillian turned in a circle with her arms out. “This closet is full of designer clothes.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“In the six months of credit card bills that I reviewed, there’s not a single charge to a department or designer store, nor any online retailers that would sell this sort of clothing.”
Karina fingered a silk dress. “Did you miss a credit card bill? Perhaps she’s got a department store card, like Neiman Marcus or Bloomingdale’s.”
Jillian’s cheeks burned. “I searched high and low but didn’t find one. Everything is filed in an orderly fashion in her desk drawer.”
“Maybe the police took them for the DA’s case.”
“Wouldn’t they just gain access to the electronic files?”
Karina frowned thoughtfully before responding, “Maybe, yes. You’re probably right. Maybe she has a PayPal or Venmo account.”
“Which brings me to the bank statements,” Jillian explained as she exited the closet, returning to the kitchen. “Look—” She picked up a statement at the end of the row. “—this is her regular deposit from the school. Mine has the same signifier. And these smaller ones I’m thinking are from the jewelry store. And here you see the outgoing bills, her credit card payments, cable, mortgage and HOA dues. I see no car payment. And there’s no PayPal account. And you see here and here—random cash deposits of between $200 and $900.”
“Yes. I see that. What I don’t see is regular ATM withdrawals. Everyone needs cash occasionally. Or did Sadira strictly run on credit or debit cards?”
“Aha. You see it too. Anytime I went out with her for drinks or something, Sadira was always flush with cash. Yet, you can see right here, she deposited her jewelry store money.” Jillian shook the paper in front of her sister’s face.
Karina pushed the bank statement away from her nose. “Maybe she didn’t deposit all of it. Maybe she’d keep out a few hundred for incidentals.”
“Maybe, but what is also missing here?”
Karina took the statement and studied it. After a few moments her brows crunched together. “How does she receive money for her courier business? I don’t see any deposits from an electronic account.”
“I found nothing.”
“Nothing?” Karina handed the bank statement back to Jillian. “It’s probably an app on her phone. Maybe she does have PayPal or is paid in bitcoin or another electronic currency, and that’s how she pays for her designer habit.”
Jillian deflated a little, dropping the paper on top of the others. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“See? I’m sure there is an explanation.” Karina crossed her arms.
“I think there is one. But not the one you think.” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out the blue envelope that Karina had put in Sadira’s glovebox.
Karina arched a single brow. “What do you plan to do with that? It’s sealed and neither one of us has X-ray vision.”
“Well—officially, it wasn’t mailed through the post office.” Jillian gave Karina a look of wide-eyed innocence.
Karina’s mouth flattened. “Jilly—”
Jillian held up a finger. “And it was handed to us. Sadira’s name isn’t even on it. Just this number in the corner, T-689.”
“Are you ready to explain to Sadira why you opened an envelope she specifically told you not to?”
“She won’t know.”
“What do you mean, she won’t know?”
Jillian pointed to the tea kettle. “I watched a few YouTube videos on how to steam open a letter.”
“Cripes!” Karina threw up her hands. “What was it called, Spy School 101?”
Jillian’s mouth twisted and she held back a grin.
Karina shook her head. “I guess you really can find anything on the internet.”
Jillian fluttered the blue envelope, her gaze silently begging for her sister’s permission—or maybe it was her blessing. Karina’s jaw flexed. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “But you better be sure you can seal it back up.”
A few minutes later, Jillian skillfully steamed the flap until the glue released, and pulled out a blank white card. Laying it on the counter, she opened it. Benjamin Franklin stared up at the sisters. Jillian counted ten crisp, unused bills.
Karina whistled. “A thousand bucks for driving a girl to a party?” Her sister carefully replaced the bills in the card and resealed the envelope. “You don’t look surprised. Jilly, did you already open it?”
She shook her head. “I have something else to show you.” The pair returned to the closet. Jillian walked to the back wall of shoes, which had been organized since the last time Karina saw it. She grabbed a hook at the top and pulled. The shoe rack swung away to reveal an in-wall two-by-two-foot safe with a digital keypad.
Karina didn’t speak.
“Sadira didn’t tell me about this. I found it—by accident,” Jillian said.
“And you think it’s got cash in there?”
“Yes. I also think it’s where her passport is.” She tapped the gray metal with a hot-pink polished nail.
Karina’s mouth twisted. “Why didn’t she tell you?”
“My thoughts exactly. Why not tell me where the safe was and give me the combination?”
“Because she’s got something to hide.”
“Like a bagful of diamonds and a pile of cash.” Jillian wiggled her brows with the revelation.
Karina’s jaw flexed and she pursed her lips.
“Should we tell the police? Can she be compelled to open the safe under court order?”
“I’m not sure, but I can’t tell the police anything. She still has me listed as one of her attorneys on record. Everything you’ve just shown me is privileged.”
“But—”
“But nothing. Legally, I’m required to provide Sadira the best defense. Contacting the police about a safe when I have no knowledge of what it holds and telling them my client might be hiding the diamonds the DA is searching for is paramount to malpractice. Worse, because Sadira didn’t tell you or me about this stuff, you discovered it from snooping. She could bring us both up on charges. Damnit.” Karina turned on her heel and stalked out of the closet.
Jillian found her pacing in front of the fireplace.
“I knew, the moment I saw all that damn paperwork on the counters, I should have turned around and walked out. But—you’re my sister and I’ve got to support you.” Jillian tsked and Karina continued, throwing her hands in the air, “Oh, all right, I suppose my own curiosity got the better of me. Damn, damn, damn. What a fool I am.” She rubbed her temple as she marched back and forth.
Jillian twisted the ring on her middle finger. “Then—you may not want to hear about the other thing that happened to me this morning.”
Karina’s flashing green gaze speared Jillian. “Geez! There’s more? What else happened?”
Jillian cleared her throat. “Well—I began to wonder what other courier trips Sadira had made in the past. And since I still have her car keys . . . well, I checked her GPS history.” Jillian gulped at the glare Karina sent her. “I . . . uh . . . followed her last one to a rough neighborhood in Arlington.”
“Mm-hm.”
“As I . . . uh . . . was sitting at a stop sign, suddenly this teenaged girl threw a milkshake at the windshield. Splat! Chocolate shake everywhere. I hopped out and yelled ‘What the hell,’ at her. She seemed startled to see me, and she said, ‘That’s not your car.’ I’d no idea how she knew the car wasn’t mine, but I replied, ‘You’re right, it’s a friend’s car. What’s your problem with it?’ She said, ‘I got no problem with the car. But your friend is a piece of shit.’” Jillian barreled on with her story, picking up speed as she related it. “Whoa! I figured, maybe, Sadira had given this girl a bad grade or something, and I said as much. The girl just laughed, flipped me the bird, and said, ‘Tell that red-headed bitch I’ll see her in hell.’”
During Jillian’s story, Karina’s frown turned into open-mouthed shock. “Then what happened?”
“I told her to wait, but she ran off. The car was a mess. I had to take it to the carwash.”
“Where in Arlington were you?”
Jillian named the street.
“That’s not too far from where I dropped off Ara. Hm.” Karina chewed her lip. “Was this girl sober? You know, in her right mind?”
“I’m not sure.” Jillian stared at her shoe, replaying the episode in her mind. “The entire incident was disturbing, but now that I think about it—she seemed a little whacked. Her hands were shaky, hair lanky and unkempt.”
“Drugs?”
“I suppose she could have been high on something.”
“Sadly, it’s probably the explanation.”
“No. High or not, she knew that car. And she knew I wasn’t Sadira.” Jillian stabbed the air with her pointer finger for emphasis.
Karina sighed. “Okay, run me through your timeline. When did you go for this little ride? Before or after searching Sadira’s files?”
“After.”
“When did you find the safe?”
“I found the safe when I returned. After the milkshake incident. That’s also when I took the blue envelope out of the glovebox.”
“How did you locate the safe?”
“Uh . . . by accident.” It was Jillian’s turn to pace away. “I . . . uh . . . kind of had a fit.”
“A fit?” Karina asked.
Jillian turned back to her sister, nervously playing with her earring. “Okay, okay, I grabbed a bunch of Sadira’s shoes and threw them to the floor because nothing was making sense. And . . . one of the stilettos got caught, so I jerked it hard enough to break the heel . . . and it shifted the rack.”
“Maybe you should consider changing professions and becoming a private investigator, Jilly,” Karina said drily.
Jillian crossed her arms defensively and shot back, “Oh, you’re one to talk.”
“Why I—”
“Painting. Dead senator.”
Karina snapped her mouth shut.
“Don’t forget the role I played in the painting incident. You didn’t even have the decency to warn me what you were dragging me into.” This time the hot pink nail pointed directly at her sister.
The two stared angrily at each other, waiting to see who would blink first.
Karina sighed, rubbing her temple. “Okay, this is a lot to think about. I’ve got to decide who I’m going to speak to first. There’s really nothing concrete here. Just a lot of supposition. And neither of us knows what that girl on the street was going on about. Who’s to say she wasn’t a disgruntled former student? What I can do is contact my Silverthorne friends and find out what they know. If there is anything to back up your—your suppositions, I’ll have to tell Jessica. I won’t allow her to be sideswiped by Sadira. In the meantime, I want you to—very carefully—put away everything you took out of Sadira’s files, exactly how you found it. When you’re done, put that blue envelope back in Sadira’s glovebox. I’m going outside to make some phone calls.”