I heard the outer door swing open and my appointment light came on. Wolf Paxton arrived right on time for his session. He wore gray lizard-skin cowboy boots, faded stonewashed blue jeans, a darker blue denim shirt with a Mustang embroidered on the back, and topped off the bucolic ensemble with a white cowboy hat.
He grinned like he’d just eaten a pig at a barbecue.
The Stranger wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. We settled on a compromise.
“You look happy. Did you just strike black gold in the back yard, Sam?”
He stretched out his powerful legs. “You’re not far off, son. I just closed a business deal—a big one. My skin’s still tingling from the back and forth, drawing the proverbial line in the sand. Feels like I just had sex with a beautiful woman who wants to keep coming back to the Wolf den for more.”
I crossed my arms and stared at him. “I’m your therapist. I’m not your son or your friend. Does this business deal involve Warren Green?”
Ears pricked, he sat up in the leather chair as if to steel himself. There was a new hardness in his voice. “I told you before he was a man with a vision. He’s a winner—if you’re not with him, you’re on the wrong team. I stand to clear a million dollar profit the first week on my original investment once delivery is made.” He puffed out his barrel chest.
He looked ready to come on my carpet.
“Which unfriendly country did you and Green sell out to? What enemy water supply is about to be contaminated? Chemicals developed here in St. Louis that cause permanent sterility in women, marking the end of an enemy’s next generation of soldiers.”
His mouth formed a perfect circle. “How did—?” Then he composed himself and said, “You overheard a great deal that night you trespassed.”
I said nothing. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
He leaned forward and smiled, baring his capped front teeth. He said, “You didn’t see the security cameras throughout the estate during your dash out of there. It was only blind luck you weren’t apprehended on the way in; one bank of cameras malfunctioned that night. They have many nice close-ups of you leaving. You’re in over your head. You’re damn lucky to be alive, son.”
He didn’t get a rise out of me.
He crossed one leg over the other, smoothed the sharp crease in his jeans and continued, “Go to the police if you like, but you better have proof. Your word as a trespasser, now wanted for murder, won’t stand up next to the fine word of Dr. Green, a respected businessman and pillar of the community. The police will find an actual functioning stable with a few of Elizabeth’s riding ponies eating the hay you hid under. Security found threads from your jeans snagged on a nail in the trough and your blood has been bleached from the stable. The police will arrest you soon for the murder of Dr. Green’s secretary.”
I met his gaze and said, “What are you hiding? You followed her in your blue Escalade the night before her murder. Staked out her apartment. Made a quick U-turn and sped away from me that night as I walked toward you. Why were you following her? You could have easily returned later that night, followed her in the morning, raped and killed her, then dumped the body. You’ve had affairs since your wife got sick—maybe you liked what you saw and forced yourself on her. The police want a sample of your DNA now.” I picked up the receiver on the table, punched in a number and said, “If you don’t want to explain it to me, I can have Detectives LeMaster and Baker of City Homicide here in ten minutes.”
He squirmed in his chair, red-faced, as a thin bead of sweat appeared on his brow. “Stop. Put the phone down. Damn, I can’t tell if you’re full of shit or not. You’d make a hell of a poker player. You can’t stop it, anyway. The wheels are already in motion.”
I returned the phone to its cradle just as a computerized message spit out the local time and temperature in my ear. “Go on,” I said.
He rubbed his hands together much like he’d done in past sessions when frustrated and angry over his wife’s health. “I followed her a few times. Both of you.”
“Warren wanted dirt on her. He was afraid she may have heard things at work. He was concerned her dumbass ex would say anything to get back in her good graces, like brag he was about to come into money. Loose lips. He wanted leverage, just in case. I never laid a hand on her, I swear.”
“Who broke into her apartment?”
He hesitated, looking away.
“You know. Tell me.” I reached for the phone again.
He held his hands out. “Hold your horses. Green hit the roof when we couldn’t dig up anything. He decided to put her on tilt at the fund—at the party. After that, he wanted it taken to the next level.”
I couldn’t see Green himself doing the dirty work. “You said ‘we,’ who smashed in her door that morning?”
“His name’s Jonathan Blue, one of Green’s long-time security men. They call him Mr. Blue. You probably saw him at the party. Intense looking, wears a conservative sports jacket, always carries a piece and doesn’t mind if people see it.”
“The man wearing the dark sunglasses?”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t want to be on his shit list.”
I had been hiding in the dark hugging a tree trunk not five feet from Blue, trespassing on his employer’s property while they were busy perfecting a covert killing machine to sell to the highest bidder.
The Wolf’s brow furrowed and he said, “Did she show you the note he left?”
That crumpled piece of paper.
I hid my surprise and said, “No, what did it say?”
He seemed to shrink within himself. “‘If you value your boyfriend’s life, keep your fucking mouth shut.’”
It sat between her legs while the cop took her statement. She chose to stuff it in her pocket and throw it away.
Images of her lifeless body propped against the green Dumpster, her eyes frozen in horror and her hands duct-taped over her mouth, flashed before me. I wish she would have shown me the note; we could have dealt with it together. I felt sick.
Jonathan Blue. He’s not a client. Were these calls a smokescreen?
If so, why the uncontrolled rage, bludgeoning, rape, and staged murder scene to protect a clandestine business deal? Why the cryptic symbol, II, over her heart in blood? My gut told me Mr. Blue was impersonal, all business.
I reached for the phone a third time, but he shook his head for me to stop. “Blue could have easily entered her apartment, killed her, and stolen a stereo. Made her murder look like another senseless robbery in the city gone bad, but he didn’t. His orders were to jimmy the door jamb, make enough noise to wake and scare her, and leave the note. He didn’t kill her.”
“How can you be sure, if Blue is as over the top as you describe?”
He stared at his boots, not wanting to answer. “I was the driver. I watched from the street below. It was just before dawn. I saw everything he did on that second floor landing. He never went inside.”
“What else?”
He thought for a while and said, “Blue came back to the car with a boner. He definitely embellished the break-in. I had no idea he was going to take it to that extreme. He cut it so close the cops arriving at the scene passed us in their cruiser when we left.”
“Green gave the order to scare her?”
He didn’t answer.
“How do I know you didn’t go back and kill her? Both of you are quite eager to please your master. Maybe you got a bigger slice of the pie for doing his wet work.”
His eyes narrowed. “Look, I’ve been up front with you. I don’t know who killed your girl. All I know is we left her scared, but alive. We didn’t want anybody dead from this.”
“Then you should have invested in golf courses. Why are you calling me, disguising your voice with a machine, bragging that you killed Kristin? Why frame me for her murder?”
His hat spun between his powerful hands. “If someone is doing this, you got bigger problems than me. I was just asked to keep an eye on a potential pain in the ass,” he said, staring at me.
“You have your own problems now, Sam.”
My accusation seemed to embolden him because he said, “I’ve told you everything I know. Why I said anything at all was in deference to you and a healthy respect for the police. You got bull balls, accusing me of murder.”
The Stranger entered our session. “You and your master have a lot of explaining to do to the police. Give my regards to Rita. Remember her?”
He bared his teeth again and said, “I’m going to let that slide because of what you’ve been through.” His eyes narrowed again. “If I were you, I’d watch my back from here on out.”
He’s the second person in less than an hour to tell me that. “Are you threatening me?”
In a singsong country voice he crooned, “Mr. Blue.”
The Stranger smiled. By all means, let’s meet Jonathan.
Wolf donned his cowboy hat and quickly ran his fingertips along the wide brim before he walked out, leaving me just as befuddled. In a just world, he wouldn’t have the chance to ride off into the sunset to howl at the moon again.
Strike two.