Betting on Grace (19 page)

Yetta shot to her feet. “Stop it right now. I’m through apologizing for the mistakes I made after Ernst died. I wasn’t myself then. My sight hasn’t returned fully. It might never come back, which is why I have to try to interpret my dreams. But I
saw
Charles. He was a snake and he was slowly devouring this family. I had to find a way to stop him.”

“And the only way you could do that was to invite a cop into the compound?”

“He’s not just a cop. He’s Romani. He’s Jurek’s son.”

Grace stood up, too. “Oh, really? Well, maybe somebody should have told
him
that because he thinks his family is back in Detroit. If anyone has an ax to grind with the Romani, it’s Nikolai Sarna. Or should I say, Nick Lightner. That’s his real name, you know.”

“I do. I also know that you’re upset about being kept in the dark about this, but Nikolai’s boss—the person
I’m meeting for lunch today—insisted on secrecy. He felt Nikolai would be accepted more easily by the men in the family if he had a criminal record.”

Grace stared at her mother, still not completely able to comprehend that Yetta had gone behind their backs like this. “I can understand you trying to help, Mom, but how could you not tell us the truth? What if one of us was involved in something shady? You might have sent your own child to jail.”

“That wouldn’t happen. I know my daughters.”

Grace shook her head sadly. “But even Puri Dye miss things. You thought you knew your husband, too. Didn’t you?”

Before Grace could take back the punishing question, a voice called from the hallway. “Anybody home?”
Liz.
“You’ll never believe what happened at DesertWay this morning. We were raided.”

T
HE RAID WENT
exactly as planned. Almost.

Nick had taken tremendous satisfaction in showing his badge to Charles. “Busted,” he’d said, savoring the moment.

Charles had cooperated without much of a fuss. In the end, fifteen people were taken into custody at the insurance center, including Gregor and Claude Radonovic.

The only snag arrived when a second team descended on Charles’s office at the casino and discovered MaryAnn missing.

When asked about his wife’s whereabouts, Gregor had seemed genuinely baffled. “I haven’t seen her since this morning. Maybe one of the kids got sick. Did you check at home?”

“Of course,” Nick lied. It hadn’t occurred to him to send a car to the house. An oversight. Proof that he’d lost his edge. Something that never happened to Nick Lightner but seemed to be chronic for Nikolai Sarna.

He’d gotten too close to the people he was supposed to be investigating. Shared meals. Basketball games on television. He and Claude had laughed and cussed. Nick and Greg had shared many a beer together.

Claude had remained his jovial self throughout the booking process. “Been here, done this,” he’d said when an officer loaded him into the back of a patrol car. “Don’t forget to feed the cat when you get home, Nikolai.”

That comment had earned Nick a sharp look from Zeke. In their haste to plan the raid around Charles’s monthly breakfast meeting, they’d neglected to make any changes in Nick’s living arrangements.

While Zeke accompanied the suspects back to the department for questioning, Nick went to the casino to interview Charles’s staff and secure videotapes and computers. He went through MaryAnn’s desk, where he found handwritten notes indicating MaryAnn was fully aware of what Charles was doing in his bogus insurance operation.

Unfortunately, Charles had protected himself quite cleverly. Taken at face value, one might think Claude was the mastermind behind the scheme. Nick knew that wasn’t possible, but proving it was something only MaryAnn could do.

And there was still the question of who was blackmailing Charles? Usually the motive was money, but from the employment records, MaryAnn appeared to be making a decent salary. Why mess with the golden goose?

He decided to ask her husband. An hour later, he was seated across from Gregor in a small but functional interrogation room. “So, Greg, what’s the deal with MaryAnn and Charles? Anything going on between them you want to get off your chest?”

Gregor turned a sickly shade of gray. He shook his head and looked up from his hands, which were clasped in front of him as if in prayer. “You mean sexual? No way, man,” he said with feeling. “She hates him. Calls him a pig. A…a…what’s the word for a guy who diddles little kids?”

“Pedophile?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

Nick wasn’t buying it. “We’ve got two women downstairs who have been servicing Chuck for the past month or so. They’re definitely not children.”

Gregor shrugged. “Maybe he’s changed. That was when he was younger.”

“Did he do something to MaryAnn?”

That gave Gregor pause. “No. God, no. It was with his sister.” He had to think a minute to come up with a name. “Amy. She and MaryAnn were friends. In high school.”

“How do you know this?”

“She was a crackhead. One night she showed up when MaryAnn was out. I was a little drunk. We…uh…hung out. Talked. She told me what Charlie-boy did to her. It was sick. She wasn’t much older than Gemilla when it happened. He was a grown man.”

“And you decided to use that information to blackmail Charles,” Nick said.

Gregor looked confused. “Huh?”

Nick’s gut told him Gregor wasn’t his man. “Did you and MaryAnn discuss this?”

Gregor’s expressive face looked utterly appalled. “Are you nuts? She’d have killed me. To tell the truth, I was kind of relieved when Amy died. I know that’s a terrible thing to say, but you can’t trust addicts to keep anything secret.”

“So, even though MaryAnn knew the truth about Charles and what he did to her friend, she still went to work for him.”

“We needed the money. And Amy was dead.”

And being close to Charles could provide a golden opportunity to hurt him when he was the most vulnerable.

But there was one other suspect to consider. “Did Liz know about Amy’s history?”

Gregor shrugged. “I don’t think so. She wasn’t around much after Amy got bad. If Amy called anybody, it was MaryAnn.”

“You gave her money?”

“Yeah. When we could.” He looked down. “’Cept the last time. We were broke. She was dead a week later.” He shook his head sadly. “MaryAnn was really bummed. Like it was her fault, you know? I tried to tell her it wasn’t. If anybody was to blame, it was Charles.”

Bingo.

“So, Greg, how could you work for a guy like that? Knowing what you know about him?”

He shrugged. “I needed work, man. Gotta feed my kids.”
And support your gambling habit?
“Grace is the one who told me Charles was setting up a new office. When I went to apply for a job, Chuck said he could use both me and my dad.”

Poor Grace,
Nick thought. Instead of helping her
family, she’d set them up to fail.
No good deed goes unpunished.

“So where’s your wife now?”

Gregor looked up sharply. “I don’t know, man. I’m worried. She wouldn’t just leave the kids at day care without calling me. What if Charles did something to her? She knows a lot about his business.”

Nick had a hunch that wasn’t the case. Someone knew where his prime suspect was, and he was betting that someone was Grace.

“I
T WAS CRAZY
,” Liz said, pacing from one end of the room to the other. “The guy who was breaking down the computer was sort of friendly. He told me the hospital was part of a pretty widespread scam involving cops and everything.”

“Cops?” Grace choked. “How?”

“I guess these people called ‘runners’ would give a list of staged or bogus accidents to these cops. The cops would file reports, then the runners would pick up the police report and file a claim. They had people called ‘jump-ins’ who would provide personal information. This is where DesertWay Med. came in. The jump-ins would pretend to be injured and someone in the hospital would order tests, treatments, medicine, follow-up doctor visits—all stuff that never happened.”

“You weren’t affected? They didn’t ask you to fake a treatment?” Grace asked, her heart in her throat.

Liz gave her a dark look. “Of course not. I handle mostly geriatric patients and home visits.”

Grace let out a sigh. “Thank God. One less Rom to worry about.”

She told her sister everything—except for Charles’s claim that he’d killed their father. That was something she had to talk over with all her sisters before sharing with Yetta.

“So Nikolai is out there arresting people even as we speak?” she asked. “I didn’t see him at DesertWay.”

“I assume he was confronting Charles, but who knows?”

The phone rang. Grace bounced to her feet but stopped short of answering it. Her mother picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

She listened for several very long seconds then said, “I understand. Thank you for calling.” She hung up.

“That was Zeke. The man I was supposed to meet for lunch,” she added for Liz’s benefit. “He’s Nikolai’s superior.”

“You’re dating a cop?”

“Don’t be silly. It wasn’t a date. We were meeting to discuss what was happening between his officer and my daughter.”

Liz looked at Grace, who felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “What did he say?” she asked.

“Gregor and Claude have been arrested.”

“Arrested?” Grace sputtered. “On what charges?”

“I didn’t ask. After listening to Elizabeth, I have to assume they were both involved to some degree with this jumping runners thing.”

Grace studied her mother closely. Yetta was sharp, despite being upset. Even finding out her brother-in-law and nephew were in police custody, didn’t seem to faze her. “What do you want us to do?” Liz asked.

“Grace, find me the number of the lawyer Katherine
went to see the other day. She seemed quite taken with him. I’m sure he’ll be able to help us.” She stood up. “Elizabeth, I’d like you to drive me downtown.”

“You bet,” Liz said. “I want to see if I can find out if the hospital is closing or what. No work, no income, right?”

Grace called Romantique. She filled Kate in and got the number her mother wanted. She also asked her sister to call in their backup hostess to cover lunch. Grace was in no condition to play the role of gracious business owner.

What she really needed was someone to talk to, so she changed clothes and packed a few things in the car, then drove to the cemetery. She hadn’t visited her father’s grave since the first day Nikolai arrived in town. Considering all that had happened, it was time to bring Ernst up-to-date.

She spread a blanket on the ground in front of his headstone and piled three squishy couch pillows on top of each other. With legs crossed under her, she sat down and closed her eyes.

“I’m meditating, Dad. Liz said it helps quiet the mind. My head is ready to pop off my neck and roll into the desert.”

A faint puff of wind made her wish she’d added a sweater atop her sleeveless blouse. Her feet and shins were bare, too, but they were protected by the blanket.

She tried to quiet the voices in her head, but thoughts from the morning slipped past her defenses. MaryAnn’s inexplicable antipathy toward Charles. Yetta’s amazing confession that she’d asked the police for help. Nikolai’s identity as a gaujo policeman. Then Liz’s news.

The slow, meditative breathing she’d been trying to
achieve turned choppy and shallow. Other questions flooded her mind. What would happen to Charles? What would Charles do when he learned Nikolai was an undercover cop? Would he hold Grace and her family responsible? Reveal her father’s secret as payback?

She opened her eyes and stared at the headstone, her gaze drawn to the bright silver dollar winking in the dappled sunlight.
Why, Daddy? Why’d you do it? Was it just about the money?

No answer came to her. She listened hard, but the only sound came from a blackbird pecking at the ground a few feet away. Its iridescent, blue-black feathers reminded her of her father’s hair when he was younger. He’d tame the thick dark waves with a grooming product that came in a tube. She could picture him combing his hair with a small comb he kept in his hip pocket with his wallet. A wallet that always bulged with dollar bills: tens, twenties, hundreds.

Money had been important to her father, but surely not more important than family. “You take care of your family and your family will take care of you,” he’d always said.

She’d never doubted that maxim until she started dating Shawn, who’d grown resentful when she’d tried to pull him into the Radonovic fold.

“That’s
your
life, Grace, not mine. I have a family. Why would anybody want more than one?” he’d told her.

And she’d done the same with Nikolai, hadn’t she? Only with him, she’d assumed that since he was part Romani he’d jump at the chance to immerse himself in her world. Her crazy, mixed-up world.

“Who in their right mind would take on this kind of
mess?” she muttered, shaking her head, frustrated that her thoughts had focused on Nikolai when they should be on the more practical concerns facing her family.

Instead of throwing herself into the fray, trying to help, she was hiding out fretting over Nikolai—the mostly gaujo cop who wouldn’t think twice about arresting the Romani he’d recently befriended.

Is that what he’s doing right now? she wondered.

She closed her eyes and tried to picture him. No image came to mind. Unnerved, she tried again, focusing intently. Suddenly, the sound of the wind disappeared. A chilly mist crept across the blank screen in her head. A moment later chaos erupted, as if someone had suddenly turned on a radio. She couldn’t make out the muffled voices, but instinct told her people were arguing. Suddenly, the sound of turbulence was clipped by a thundering crack that made Grace cover her ears. A gunshot? she wondered.

Grace squinted at the foggy haze in her mind, picking out shapes that moved and swelled. MaryAnn came into focus. Her arm was outstretched as if she were pointing her finger accusingly. No, not a finger. A gun. She was aiming a gun at Nikolai.

“Stop,” Grace cried. “He’s not to blame for this. I am.”