Chapter 4

 

 

 

 

“SIS?”

Octavia turned her head to see Linda standing in front of an open vending machine, writing on a clipboard. “What?”

“I need three Doritos and four cheese crackers, please.”

Octavia shifted in the uncomfortable office break room chair and lifted an energy drink for a sip.

“This will go a lot faster if we both work. And stop drinking the merchandise.”

Octavia swallowed, then winced. “This tastes like ass. Why do people drink these?”

“I don’t know, but yay for us that they do. Come on, this is our last stop and I’d like to get home before the kids are out of school.”

Octavia’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out to see “Louisville Metro Department of Corrections” on the screen, then swiped to dismiss it. She still hadn’t decided what to do about the sealed evidence envelope Grim Hollister was holding for her in his pawn shop safe. Her maid Carla had given her the envelope saying Richard had asked her to keep it for him. Later Carla had been found dead, potentially killed by someone looking for the envelope. Grim had x-rayed the envelope and had surmised it held a spent round from a gun.

“Was that Richard calling again?”

Octavia nodded then downed the rest of the drink and crushed the can in her hand. The pain felt good. Before Richard had been hauled away by the police, he’d begged Octavia to help him.

I’m in deep with some really bad men. The only thing that can save me is a padded envelope I gave to Carla. Find that envelope. And when you do, don’t tell anyone, don’t trust anyone. This is bigger than you know. And the police are in on it, too.

She hadn’t had time to tell him she had the envelope in her possession. By now he presumably knew Carla was dead and was probably freaking out as to its whereabouts. But after the way he’d betrayed her, both financially and with Patsy Greenwald, he deserved to squirm.

“Talk about it?” Linda ventured.

“Nope.”

“Okay. Can you hand me three Doritos and two cheese crackers, please?”

Octavia pushed to her feet to retrieve the cardboard box full of snacks and haul them over to the machine. She fished out the Doritos and cheese crackers. “I should divorce him, shouldn’t I?”

Linda loaded the items into the machine. “I can’t answer that.”

“Of course I should. He ruined my life. Men just suck, don’t they?”

“A lot of them,” Linda agreed.

“Speaking of, I saw the letter from dear old dad on your desk.”

“Did you read it?”

“Hell, no. I have zero interest in anything he has to say.”

Linda paused, then checked the clipboard. “He’d heard about Sullivan and wanted to say he was sorry. Three granola bars and five Snickers, please.”

Octavia passed the supplies. “Guess the news grapevine is healthy in the clink.” She gave a harsh laugh. “I just realized something—I married my father. My one goal was to marry a man I could trust, the exact opposite of Dad, and now look at me.”

“It’s not the same,” Linda murmured. “Dad’s been shady since we can remember. Richard was a good man when you married him.”

“So you think being married to me turned him bad?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s okay,” Octavia said. “Sometimes I think that, too.”

“Don’t blame yourself for Richard’s behavior. He made choices that put you in danger—you wouldn’t have done that to him.”

She lifted her chin—her sister was right. The worst thing she’d done to Richard was imagine he was someone else when they had sex, and that wasn’t a crime. “Dunk offered to give me the name of a divorce attorney.”

“Has it occurred to you Dunk might have a vested interest in you becoming single?”

Octavia scoffed. “Dunk would never let something like a marriage stop him from seducing someone if he really wanted to.”

Linda pursed her mouth. “Then maybe he wants what’s best for you.”

“Or maybe he just wants to stay connected to me—and us. I think he wants Sullivan’s missing file.”

Linda frowned. “The Foxtrot file?”

“Uh-huh. If it has something to do with that jockey being murdered, it could lead to breaking a big case.”

“I suppose so, but if Dunk is as well-connected as he says he is, why wouldn’t he just contact the ADA for the information and offer to take on the case?”

“Maybe there was something in the file the ADA can’t replicate.”

“That would explain why she’s been calling the agency every day to see if it’s turned up. Klo is worried sick she shredded it by mistake.”

“Did Sullivan keep work files at home?”

“No. Sullivan was protective of his cases—he never discussed them with me. Two Sun Chips and three meat sticks, please.”

But something in Linda’s voice piqued her curiosity. “Not ever?”

“Um, no. He had become kind of distant.”

She rummaged for the snacks, then handed them over. “I figured the two of you shared everything.”

“I thought so, too,” Linda admitted. “But I recently found out Sullivan didn’t leave the police force by choice.”

Octavia blinked. “He was fired?”

“Not fired, according to Oakley, but he mouthed off and made some enemies and the captain thought it was best for him to leave.”

“And you didn’t suspect anything?”

“No, but in hindsight I should have. He definitely went through a personality change when he left the force and started the agency.”

“How so?”

Her sister hesitated. “He became more distracted and out of touch. Things piled up around the house, including our debt, but he didn’t want me to get a job because of the odd hours he worked. He became so moody. I overlooked it because I thought he was throwing himself into the agency and was frustrated it wasn’t going well. But now I think maybe his heart wasn’t really in it and he was just generally unhappy.”

“You couldn’t have been happy either,” Octavia offered.

“I wasn’t,” Linda said. Her eyes clouded. “I’m ashamed to say I was starting to think we’d be better apart. In fact, that’s what I was thinking about when I got the call that he’d collapsed. Four Juicy Fruits and three Mentos, please.”

Astonishment barbed through Octavia’s chest. She’d always thought Linda could do better than Sullivan, but she’d never suspected her sister was unhappy with her life choices. She handed over the supplies. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. You couldn’t have known what would happen.”

Linda knuckled away a tear. “I keep thinking the stress of our debt and his job is what led to his heart attack.”

“Sullivan made his own choices… just like Richard.”

Linda lifted her head, then nodded and sniffed. “You’re right.”

“But now that we’re on the subject,” Octavia said, feeling contrite, “I kind of feel like I railroaded you into taking over the agency.”

“You did,” Linda said dryly. “But now that I’ve have time to get used to the idea… I like it.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

“No. The class is helping me to see the potential of the business. In fact, tomorrow I’m going to call all of Sullivan’s previous clients to let them know we’re still open and under new management. If someone needs our services before we get our licenses, we’ll take Dunk up on his offer to run it through his agency.”

Octavia frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Then think of other ways we can build our business with no marketing budget.”

Octavia chewed on her lip, then looked around the posh corporate break room. When her gaze landed on a cork bulletin board, an idea popped into her head. She removed a stack of business cards from her pocket and crossed the room. “We can start by leaving business cards in every office building we go into.” She tucked the cards into the frame.

Linda nodded. “Good idea. Especially when we go into the courthouse and the government buildings.” Then she sighed. “But if business picks up, you’ll need a car.”

“I’m going to talk to my accountant to get a handle on where my finances stand. Maybe I can buy a small Mercedes.”

“Yeah, that’ll blend in.”

Octavia frowned. “I refuse to drive a domestic car.”

“Whatever, but you need transportation.”

Octavia’s phone buzzed again, but she didn’t look.

“You’re going to have to make a decision soon about Richard,” Linda murmured.

“I know.”

“Four pretzels and three trail mixes, please.”