Kelly crept toward the unearthly glow of L.A. as seen from the sea at night. The wind and chop continued to increase. Her stomach complained. She had to call Charlie but feared using her cell phone. If Amy’s case went to trial, her lawyer could subpoena the phone records of the witnesses to her crime. It was these pesky little details that could mess up the rest of one’s life. She would have to wait until she could get to a pay phone.
At the harbor she got a break. No one was around when she docked the boat. No witnesses to worry about. She left the marina before calling Charlie from a phone beside a deserted gas station. Sounded like she woke him.
“Charlie. I need your help.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“I need you to listen to a story I have to tell. Please don’t get mad at me.”
He yawned. “I’m listening.”
She gave him the straight scoop. To get his assistance, she dared not lie. Charlie would interpret the latter as an act of betrayal. He did not interrupt once. She worried he might have fallen asleep. No need for concern—her tale was sufficiently shocking. She ran out of words and there was a long pause.
“Are you done?” he asked.
“Yes. Don’t yell at me.”
“No need. I’m going back to sleep. I’ll visit you in jail in a few days. Bye.”
“Wait! I need your help.”
“Really? Odd, but you don’t act like a person who needs anyone’s help. In fact, you behave precisely like the megalomaniac Slate accused you of being. How could I possibly help such a person?”
“Charlie, I don’t have time for this. Amy murdered her husband. I cannot let her get away with it. I need you to back up my story.”
“How?”
“Say you were with me tonight.”
“You want me to lie?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I’m on a leave of absence. You’re in charge of this case. If you explain that you’ve been following Amy because you suspected her of acting in collusion with the kidnappers, the court will believe it.”
“Why would I have you with me?”
“We’re partners. Even while on a leave of absence, I like to hang out with you.”
“You don’t need me.”
“Vicki will eat me alive if you’re not there to back me up.”
“Vicki’s a vegetarian.”
“I’m in trouble here!”
“True. You rented a boat to go over to Catalina. I wasn’t with you. There’s a witness.”
“You went over earlier on the ferry.”
“I don’t have a ticket stub.”
“We can find one at the marina. People throw them away.”
“Why would we follow them over to Catalina of all places?”
“You wanted to go over for fun anyway. That’s another reason I came along.”
“Sort of a business and pleasure trip?”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“No. I’m making like a defense lawyer.”
“Yes. Business and pleasure.”
“And we just happened to witness a murder?”
“Yes.”
“Were we expecting to see a murder?”
“No.”
“Then why were we following their boat back to L.A.?”
“We were following them, period. When they left, we left.”
“Sounds weak.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I have two suggestions. The first one is to tell the truth.”
“I can’t do that. Matt will get arrested and I could too.”
“I understand. My second suggestion is to drop the whole thing.”
“What? Matt said that.”
“And we both know how smart he is. Amy’s life is not worth yours.”
“She murdered her husband! You only say that because David was an asshole.”
“The reverse is closer to the truth. You only protect Matt because you like him. But Matt committed serious crimes. He kidnapped a child and stole lots of money. He’s at least as guilty as Amy. And I for one do not appreciate that this guy I’ve searched for all this time will get to walk—just because you happen to have a crush on him.”
“That’s not it, seriously, Charlie. I protect Matt because he’s essentially innocent. Amy is completely guilty. I cannot let her go free.”
“We have laws so that we don’t have to make these decisions ourselves. But as far back as the Acid Man, you have taken it upon yourself to decide how these laws are to be enforced. You’re a romantic. You’re insightful. You’re also an idiot. You shouldn’t be an FBI agent.”
She sighed. “I don’t disagree. But what am I supposed to do now? Amy cannot go free. You see how unfair that would be.”
“To take her down could cost us both our careers. Is she worth it?”
“To me she is.” Kelly paused. “I shouldn’t put you on the spot like this. Forget it, I’ll bring her in myself. You go back to sleep.”
“Okay.”
“Charlie?”
“You’re so full of shit. You know I cannot hang you out to dry.”
“Will you help me?”
“Yes. If you’ll answer one question. Did you sleep with Matt?”
“I slept with him twice. We never had sex. One night was because I was very sick. He took care of me. The other night was because, well, he was losing his mind.”
“I’m losing my mind right now. Do I get to sleep with you?”
“Maybe. When this is all over.”
“I have another question. Are you sure David is dead?”
“Yes. How could he be alive?”
“It’s summertime. The water is cool but not freezing. He could survive for an hour or two if he was in good shape. At least a few boats must have come back from Catalina this late. Maybe someone picked him up.”
“But we searched for him. He went under.”
“From what you said, you didn’t search long. You could have been looking in the wrong place.”
“I wanted to look longer. But Matt said he must be dead.”
“Who hated David more than Matt?” Charlie asked.
“Point taken. I don’t think it’s an issue.”
“What is this Matt like anyway?”
Kelly considered. “He’s very mysterious.”
She returned to the marina. Charlie met her in the far corner of the parking lot forty minutes later. Using a pay phone, they called the police and Coast Guard. Kelly had no trouble conveying where David went overboard. Matt had given her his GPS before splitting. The Coast Guard moved to dispatch a boat. The police would arrive in minutes. Kelly and Charlie asked a security guard where the Stardust was docked. Walking toward the boat, Charlie was in a foul mood.
“The police are already asking why we didn’t call sooner,” he said.
“We just got back to shore.”
“Why no cell phone?”
“You didn’t bring one. Neither did I.”
“Vicki knows I sleep with my cell phone.”
“We’re not talking to her tonight.”
“That’s what you think. She’s our boss. We have to wake her. I want to be the one to arrest Amy.”
“Fine. I want her to remain silent. Give Matt more time.”
“Damnit!” Charlie stopped and glared. “We’re not going to bend over backward to protect this guy. We say we don’t know anything about him. That’s the extent of our helping him. Understood?”
There were times when Charlie could not be pushed. “Understood.”
He shook his head. “Why am I doing this for you?”
“Because you love me. You love justice. This is just.”
“This is illegal. You’re a loose cannon. I don’t love that about you.”
She put her palm on his heart. “She cannot go free.”
“Do you have your gun?” he asked.
“No. Will I need it?”
They resumed walking. “She did just murder someone.”
The Stardust was impressive, long and sleek. Kelly assumed they were all still aboard, but that was not a given. She was curious to meet the powerful Carl Techer, who just happened to be suing the FBI because of their botched ransom surveillance. Vicki said he was an older version of David’s prick. As they walked up the plank, they were met by Captain Gilbert Perkins—the Gilbert Amy had spoken of. He was still at work swabbing the deck. Tall and blond and dressed in white, he looked like a hospital orderly who kept a surfboard in the closet. She smelled alcohol on his breath. Charlie flashed his badge.
“FBI. Are Amy and Carl Techer here?” Charlie asked.
“Yes. What is this about?”
“Go get them.”
“They’re asleep.”
“Wake them,” Charlie said.
Amy was the first to arrive. Maybe she had not been sleeping well. She wore a dark red robe over her pajamas. Her calm impressed Kelly. Amy had obviously learned
long ago how to use the natural innocence of her face to best advantage. Gilbert was still digging up the old guy.
“Agent Fitzsimmons, Kelly. What’s this about?” Amy asked.
“Where’s David?” Charlie asked.
Amy looked around. “I don’t know. Gilbert just woke me up. David wasn’t there.”
Kelly could not contain herself. “You know where he is. My partner and I trailed your boat tonight. We saw you push him overboard.”
Amy paled and her lower lip trembled but she kept the face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered.
Carl Techer appeared seconds later. His hair was dark and there was way too much of it; the thing was an expensive wig. He moved with more authority than his son. His eyes were a steely blue that reminded Kelly of ice water. He looked fit for his age, but there was a slight quiver to his mouth and cheeks. Wall Street’s money had yet to figure out how to buy time. The man had to be in his late seventies. He wore the same color robe as Amy. That was odd.
“What’s going on here?” he demanded, a strong rasp.
Charlie held out his badge. “FBI. We regret to inform you that your son has been murdered. Your daughter-in-law pushed him overboard approximately three hours ago, in the middle of the ocean.”
Mr. Techer snorted. “David’s not dead. He’s sleeping down below.”
“Mr. Techer,” Kelly said gently. “David’s not aboard your boat. Both my partner and I saw Amy push him overboard not long after you left Catalina. We were trailing you and we attempted to rescue David but we were too late.” She added, “I’m very sorry to have to tell you this.”
Mr. Techer looked to Amy. “What are they talking about?”
She gestured helplessly. “I don’t know. Gilbert woke me up a few minutes ago. David wasn’t there.”
Gilbert appeared on deck. “I can’t find David anywhere.”
Mr. Techer was bitter. “Who are you people to come here at this time of night?”
“We’re two of the agents assigned to the kidnapping of your grandson,” Charlie said. “We were trailing your party tonight because we’ve suspected for some time that your daughter-in-law was personally involved with the kidnappers. We have no direct proof of that at this time, and it may have nothing to do with the murder of your son. But we’re here to arrest her.” He drew his gun and pulled out his handcuffs. “Amy Techer, you are under arrest for the murder of your husband, David Techer. Please put out your arms while I handcuff you and read you your rights.”
You have the right to remain silent. You have the right of an attorney. If you cannot afford one … Mr. Techer tried to stop Charlie from cuffing Amy but Kelly held him back. Mr. Techer shouted that he would find Amy a lawyer and get to the bottom of this nonsense. Amy cast the old man a pleading look as Charlie and Kelly led her away. Kelly wondered what the deal was between those two. She stayed close to Amy’s side as they walked toward the parking lot. Two black-and-whites had arrived. Charlie had made the arrest because he had supposedly witnessed the crime, but as Amy’s offense did not yet fall under FBI jurisdiction, she would be turned over to the LAPD.
“You know I had nothing to do with the kidnapping of my son,” Amy hissed.
“I advise you to remain silent,” Kelly replied.
“You know!”
Kelly couldn’t resist. “I know more than you dream. You’re going to fry, girl.”
VICKI HAD Kelly and Charlie in a room at the police station in Santa Monica. The type of box where prisoners were interrogated. The walls peeled green and the overhead light could have been used in an epileptic test center. Vicki made them repeat their story several times. Kelly did
not appreciate the harsh treatment but Charlie played it cool. At least Vicki was not taping. She had some sense of loyalty.
“This sounds like a bullshit story,” she said as she leaned into the corner. Kelly had never seen her in sweatpants before, no makeup. The bags under her eyes needed coffee. They had awakened her an hour ago. Charlie spread his hands.
“This is what happened,” he said. “The guy’s dead.”
“I believe that much.”
“And what exactly don’t you believe?” Kelly asked.
“Don’t get self-righteous, Fienman,” Vicki snapped. “I don’t know everything that happened last night, but you’re scaring me again. You’re not even supposed to be on the job.”
Kelly shrugged. “I went along for the ride.”
“How long you been riding this particular wave, Charlie?” Vicki asked.
“How long have I suspected Amy? From the beginning.”
“You keep your opinions to yourself. Why did she kill her husband?”
“For money,” Charlie said.
“Is that why she helped kidnap her own kid?”
“Maybe,” Charlie said.
“I don’t buy it,” Vicki said.
“Why not?” Kelly asked.
“Stupid question. You have no proof.”
Charlie spoke. “David’s dead. We saw her push him overboard. Later, we can sort out how his murder might relate to the child, Jimmy. For now, Amy Techer is guilty of murder one. What other proof do we need?”
“Her lawyer’s going to rape you guys.”
“Hope he’s good-looking,” Kelly said.
Vicki scowled. “What’s your problem? I’m trying to help you.”
“Do we need help?” Kelly asked.
“Did anyone ever tell you that your attitude sucks, Fienman?”
“Dirty Harry would take that as a compliment,” Kelly said.
Vicki simmered. She was no fool when it came to schemes. Yet they might have convinced her, despite her reservations. There was no obvious hole in their story. Why would they lie? Not even Vicki, for all her street smarts, would suspect the whole truth. It was too preposterous.
“Where’s Amy now?” Charlie asked.
“They’ve detained her,” Vicki said. “That’s all. She hasn’t been booked. She hasn’t made a statement. I hear a lawyer’s coming.”
“Do you know who?” Charlie asked.
“Somebody expensive. Mr. Techer’s in her corner.”
“Curious,” Kelly said. “Amy just murdered his son.”
“She was probably banging father and son,” Vicki said.
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Kelly muttered.
“If she has the kid, I wonder where she keeps him?” Vicki said.
Charlie and Kelly chose to remain silent.
Vicki let them go a short time later. Kelly and Charlie regrouped in a coffee shop down the street. Caffeine and sugar—breakfast of chumps. Charlie had jam with his toast and Kelly ate a doughnut, her first since the Acid Man had performed exploratory surgery on her intestines. She felt reckless—a half dozen digestive enzymes would take care of the lard. Charlie kept shaking his head as he ate.
“She knows we’re hiding something,” he said.
“She only suspects. It’s her nature.”
“Did you need to piss her off?”
“That’s my nature. Hey, she should be giving us a medal.”
“That’s why you keep getting into these situations. I should just buy a box and pin them on your chest.”
“Don’t poke my breasts,” Kelly warned.
“Did you let Matt touch them?”
“No. He touched my scars though. I was embarrassed.”
“How did you explain them?”
“I told him this black guy named Charles whips me when I misbehave.”
“I wish.” He drank his coffee like he was swallowing medicine.
“They will book her, won’t they?”
“They have to. But come Monday, she’ll be out on bail.”
“No way. We’re talking murder one, two eyewitnesses.”
“In the middle of the night, in the middle of the ocean. Two witnesses that had no right being there. And there’s no body, don’t forget that rather crucial point. Before this is all over, her lawyer will be pointing the finger at us for the murder.”
“You think Mr. Techer’s going to buy her freedom?” she asked.
“I know he won’t blink when it comes to a million or two in bail.”
“Do you think she’s doing him?”
Charlie nodded. “Matt knows how to pick them.”
FOR KELLY the weekend was long. She had her daughter to watch but didn’t have Tony. All she had to do was say the word, though her ex had changed tactics. Now he acted cool. When he dropped Anna off he hardly spoke. Probably thought he had begged enough. She was tired of all the games.
Matt was not answering his cell. That was not necessarily a bad move on his part. For his sake, she hoped he was long gone. As far as she could tell, Amy had not raised his name to the police—that would not last. For her own selfish reasons, she felt abandoned. She missed hanging out with Matt. He had brought a crazy edge to her life.
Kelly seldom thought of David. The indifference made her feel guilty.
The Coast Guard did not find his body.
Amy did not appear before a judge until the following Tuesday. Kelly and Charlie came for the show. Carl Techer was present, along with Stan Trent, a fiery import from the Bay Area who wore suits from Italy and a smile from the North Pole. Trent had won eight huge murder cases in
the last ten years, lost none. He had even gotten a client named Gage Huntly aquitted, and Gage had chopped off his mother’s head and stored it in his ice cream truck after dipping her hair in chocolate syrup. Vicki said Trent could defend the Devil before a jury of Pat Robertson supporters, and still win.
Barry Pallor was the judge, two hundred and fifty pounds of legal insight and personal frustration. He was on his fifth wife; she was a prison guard. Number four had been a lawyer; she was forever suing him for back alimony. Pallor was rumored to be soft on pretty women and hard on blacks who looked like his second son—which was the reason wife number three was no longer around. Pallor was white Irish.
Amy appeared fittingly wounded. Trent played hardball. He pushed Pallor for reasonable bail. He read off his reasons as if they were stock quotes: the accused had no motive; she had never been convicted of a crime before; she had suffered enough with the recent kidnapping of her child; the agents who had witnessed her supposed crime were of dubious character. Kelly liked that last one but it annoyed Charlie. The guy the District Attorney’s office had sent over argued like a munchkin before the wicked witch. He was so inept Charlie wondered aloud if Carl Techer had already managed to pull strings higher up the food chain. Paranoia, perhaps, but they were in Pallor’s court, and with all those exes he had plenty of alimony to pay. Maybe he could be bought. Amy managed to raise her head a few times to bat her long lashes. Pallor seemed to like the look of her.
Bail was set at eight hundred thousand. Amy was free, for now.
She smiled at Kelly as she left the courtroom with her family. Mocking.
“What does she know?” Charlie whispered in her ear.
“She’s going to put it on Matt,” Kelly said.
“I wonder.”
“What?”
“What if Matt helps her?” Charlie asked.
Kelly dismissed the notion. But when she failed to reach Matt over the next two days, she began to wonder herself. Amy knew how to project innocence in the midst of irrefutable guilt, and Matt had the discrimination of Don Quixote when it came to playing the hero. Pallor had ordered Amy not to leave town, but who tracked her? Kelly figured if Amy had Matt advising her on how to vanish, they could blink and the girl would be gone. But Kelly consoled herself that even Matt was not that stupid.
Until Amy did disappear.