Lie Catchers (27 page)

“But you remembered something I said on November blank when you were wearing blank jewelry, the rain coming down in torrents.”

She nodded. “Damned brain.”

“No. Don’t. You’ve spent a lifetime of hiding your gift. This is my problem, not yours.”

“But I let this happen; I wanted it as much as you did, until I caught the lie.”

He blinked rapidly, digesting the meaning of her words. “You think I was setting up a blackmail scheme.”

Liv frowned. “To be kinder, you’re trolling for insurance. We make love, a commitment of sorts, so I can’t possibly agree to help catch these criminals. If I agree, I lose the man I recently made love to, because he can’t love a woman who works with him.”

“It doesn’t make much sense, does it?”

Liv said, “Emotions rarely do. But notice the irony? You encourage me to stop hiding my so-called gift, yet if I use it, I lose you.” Tears welled in Liv’s eyes.
I can’t be with him. Ever.
She bent her knees and lowered her feet to the floor, eyeing the clock on the wall. Standing, with her back to Parker, she said, “Ivor and Nilson are waiting for you. Tell me what I can do to help.”

Parker sat up in the couch, put his elbows on his knees and rested his face in his hands. “God, I’m embarrassed.”

“Now you see why I send men running, I—”

Before Liv could finish her sentence, Parker jumped up and held her face in his hands, his gaze so intense she couldn’t have drawn away. “Don’t you dare blame yourself, Liv. You’ve spent too many years doing that. This is my problem to solve and I’m embarrassed not to have dealt with it.”

Liv didn’t move.

“Do you understand what I’m saying Liv? If this experience makes you draw back into your shell, I’ll never forgive myself.”

She moved her head up and down.

“Promise?”

More up and down.

He kissed her forehead and let her go. “Let’s start all over, Livy. I’ve entered your apartment, given you a quick kiss on the forehead, taken off my coat and told you Ivor and Nilson want me to ask you for help. Team effort and all that, laced with elements of danger.”

“How about some coffee?”

“And
krumcake
?”

“Why don’t you bring your proposal to me in the kitchen; while I get the coffee ready you can tell me what you have in mind.”

“Perfect.”

She kept a smile on her face until she turned to go to the kitchen. Fighting tears, she berated herself: she’d steeled herself against letting the best man she’d ever met break her heart, but he’d managed to crack it in half, anyway.

****

“I’ll do both,” Liv said. She leaned against the black granite counter, her navy cashmere sweater bringing out the blue in her eyes. The sweater was a loose feathery weave, soft around her breasts, a v-neckline drawing attention to her creamy skin. The need to touch her was so strong in Parker, that he’d pushed his hands in his pockets, freeing the right hand on occasion to lift his coffee mug to his lips or pinch a cookie off the plate.

Lust, regret, and fear filled him in equal doses, scrambling his brain.
This is why Nilson and I are horny bachelors. We could never do our jobs if we had families to worry about.

“Did you hear me, Parker? Give me some dates to draw out the killers and I’ll write a bogus Sing Lee article that will do the same.”

“That’s a generous offer, Liv,” he said. “If we strike this bargain, we assign someone with you all day long and require you to carry a gun everywhere.”

“Deal. But these people have to have access to me in order for the strategy to work. I’ve got to be out and about more than usual, don’t I? If I hole up and hide, they won’t be able to come at me, which is what we want, right?”

Parker nodded. “To a point. The key would be to follow your normal schedule. Nilson, Parker and I will keep an eye on the suspects. I’ll tap into the store and your apartment, and listen in on your cell phone.”

“Can’t you bug Tuck’s phones and his computers?”

“I wish. We don’t have enough evidence for probable cause to secretly tap his phone. Here in Alaska we need your permission to put listening devices on anything you own.”

“Why tap my phones, Parker?”

“It gives me one more measure of security. Barber’s madder than hell at you right now. Who knows what he’ll do? I mean, my dad is a tough old bird, but Barber could overpower him easily. You and I need to stay in contact, constantly.” Blowing out a breath, Parker said, “Ever since Ivor found taps in Tilly’s place, I’ve been on edge. I’m going to put the electronics in myself and keep that information between the two of us.”

“Not tell your boss, or Nilson. Not even Ivor?”

“No one. You’ve seen how information zips through Petersburg. Let’s keep the taps to ourselves.”

“But, Ivor—”

Parker put his finger to Liv’s lips. “I want him to remain objective through all this, especially because he’s got a loose tie to Mallen. Plus, he’s barely keeping a lid on this town since the big brawl down at the marina. His jail is full and he’s got outstanding warrants on two fishermen.”

“I know,” she said, taking his hand. “Poor guy.” She straightened her back. “So Tuck is already upset about how I’ve dated his movements. Do I make up some more detail on him and get the word around town I’m sharing dates and times with you?”

“No, that’s too dangerous. Let’s figure out an angle with a Sing Lee article that might spook him.”

“Couldn’t we at least put out the word I’m coming up with new revelations all the time, given my gift is something I’m just beginning to work with?”

“I guess so.”

“More people will want to sue me.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know we have another way to flush out the guilty parties, Liv.”

Smiling, Liv said, “I’m glad to help.”

He lifted his coffee cup for a long, last swallow. “Final chance. You could leave on a jet plane today.”

“No way. You need me. And you’re the one who let my monster out of the closet.”

Parker walked toward her, smiling. “Bittersweet.” He touched her shoulder, the feather-light sweater a contrast to the strength he saw in Liv. “I wish things had turned out differently with us.”

“I never met a man who liked my brain,” she said, her eyes watering.

“Until you met me,” he said, proud of the way he’d accepted Liv’s unusual skill.

She hesitated, her hands resting on the computer. Then, as if she were speaking to the screen instead of Parker, she said, “At least they allowed themselves to love me. You won’t.”

****

Petersburg, 1932

Motives: Cultural Conflict, Greed, Revenge

(The Murder of Sing Lee: A Retrospective

by Liv Hanson)

Gus rubbed his eyes after hours of reviewing accounts from Sing Lee’s Country Store, concluding his trouble finding townspeople who had cultural conflicts with Sing Lee was no easier than pinpointing suspects motivated by greed. If money was the objective in the killing of the old man, who might be guilty? The problem was, the sale of liquor, food, household goods and hardware presented a myriad of ways to skim money. Taking kickbacks, doctoring the inventory, and pocketing cash were typical of scammers. What Gus couldn’t figure out was who was making more money than they should be making. Was Sing Lee hauling in extra dollars and sending them to China? How was he to track that? Could it be Alf Forden, his store manager, was in on a con with the vendors? If so, where would Forden be hiding his windfalls?

Another complication: with the easy access the public had to Sing Lee’s back rooms, Gus was sure merchandize disappeared daily. How would he sort out petty theft from organized crime?

“How is this for a start, Parker? I’m trying to stay true to the history, while introducing money as a motive.”

Parker and Ivor joined Liv at the desk in her bedroom. Both read her words, silently.

“Good beginning,” Parker said. “You tied in your last article about cultural conflict with the new concept of greed.”

Ivor rested his hand on Liv’s shoulder. “Your words should unnerve Tuck, Susanna Halley and Bob Halley, who are hurting for cash. We know where Bob’s money has gone…all to Susanna. And, of course, she’s spent every dime in hot pursuit of a lunch ticket.”

“Tuck’s harder to figure,” said Parker. “Except for his ritzy office, he hasn’t sunk a penny into Lito’s Landing. Our search proves he isn’t stashing his profits in a local bank or investment fund. Truth is, we still don’t have proof he skimmed money from the cannery.”

“Mallen?” offered Liv.

Ivor’s hand tightened on Liv’s shoulder. “What about her?”

“She grumbles about money; all she lost in the divorce and the staggering overhead in running a B&B.”

“Hell, if we put everyone who complained about not having money on our murder board, we’d have every citizen on it, including me,” said Ivor, as he paced near the bedroom doorway.

“Stand on my right, Ivor.”

“Huh?”

“I’d have you fix this chair if we had time. It releases when I twist to the left. So stay on my right, will you?” Liv turned to Parker. “You still have doubts about Mallen?”

Parker addressed Ivor. “Mallen taking up with Ev Olson surprised you, didn’t it?”

“Mallen does what she wants to.”

“Money and sex are powerful motivators.”

Ivor stilled. “I should have said something to Mallen.”

“About what?”

“About the way I feel about her.”

Liv took Ivor’s hand. “It’s not too late.”

Ivor rolled his eyes. “For me and women, it’s always too late.”

With a wince, Liv said, “What a sad pair we are.” She turned to stare at the computer. “What do I say next to raise the guilty quotient?”

Parker paced next to her bed. “Let me look into the ways folks hid money in 1932, so you can add a little historical flavor. I think we should widen our ring of guilt by going over the revenge motive, too.”

“Let’s see.” Ivor leaned against the doorjamb. “Mallen, Susanna and Tilly competed for Ev. Revenge motive possible there. Bob Halley’s upset with Ev for knocking up Susanna. Tuck’s ticked off about whatever Ev and Tilly were up to.”

“How do I write about that in Gus’s story?” Liv asked.

Parker said, “I suppose you could say Alf resented Sing Lee for something the old man did. Maybe Sing Lee offended Greta or one of the other suppliers. Could Lee have barred a customer from coming to the Country Store? All the scenarios could tie into cultural conflict.”

Nodding, Liv readied her fingers to type. “Okay. I’ll have to do a little more research on Chinese versus American culture. Since the Chinese believed in harmony, I need to focus on a couple areas where Chinese hold stubbornly to beliefs very different from Americans. Maybe I’ll talk to Jenny one more time. See if she remembers Greta talking about anyone Sing Lee rejected.”

“Good. I’ll e-mail you the stuff about hiding money in ’32 and you do your research. Can we get this in the newspaper tomorrow?”

“I’ll ask for another special edition.”

“I’m off to question Mallen. Ivor, you want to join me?”

“Can’t. Too much to do in my office. Parker, you go out the back. I’ll exit by the front. Chet’s finished downstairs, Liv. Complete the article, e-mail it to the paper and get some sleep.”

Liv rolled up her chair to the computer, so energized by the challenge, she dismissed thoughts of the men even before they left the room.

Someone pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Hmm?” she asked, as she continued to type.

“You’re happy doing this, aren’t you?” Parker whispered in her ear, his warm breath and the feel of his lips on her earlobe, sending a pleasant shiver across her shoulders.

Liv heard surprise in Parker’s voice, so she took a moment to examine her emotions. Finally, she smiled as she imagined the thrill Parker’s girlfriend must have felt sneaking secrets from Al Qaeda. “I am. So was Bern.”

Without a word, Parker left the room.

An hour later, Liv shouted, “Done!” and pushed ‘send’ on her computer. In an instant, her Sing Lee article was at the
Petersburg Pilot
, soon to be pasted into a special morning edition of the newspaper, each issue going out in e-mail format to every subscriber in town. Just like Bernadette, Liv would ensnare the guilty.

The person who had shot her and killed Ev and Tilly would be brought to justice. Finally.

Parker stalled at the breakfast table after sending Nilson over to the Municipal building, dawdling over a second cup of coffee until Mallen left for her morning jog. Jenny loaded the dishwasher in the kitchen, making more racket than usual, as if she knew Parker was waiting to talk to her and resented the intrusion. For a moment, Parker wished he were back in Fresno, staring at emotionless data on a computer screen. Jenny’s expression was going to be anything but neutral when she addressed Parker’s questions.

The latest edition of the
Petersburg Pilot
lay open on his left; a half-eaten roll and a mug of coffee on his right. He was ready.

Jenny shuffled to the table, coffee pot in hand. “More?”

“Sit. Please.”

She plunked the coffee pot on a hotplate and sank into the chair opposite him, eyes averted. The juniper green sweater she wore set off bright eyes that belied her age. She seemed steeled to what would come next, a posture he’d noticed before.

“I hate this part of my job, Jenny. The confrontation. You are one of my favorite people in this town because we’ve had a chance to get to know each other. Yet I have the sense you’re holding back.”

“Façade. I told you Petersburg comes with it. Me, too.” She focused on the window.

He spread his hand on the article. “Liv governs dates and events; I’ve learned I’m better at guilt-detecting.”

Jenny eyed the e-mail copy of Liv’s column. “I’m reading the series. Liv has a vivid imagination.”

With a headshake, he said, “I should have listened more closely to you, to Harriet and to Liv when I first came to town. You all showed me the way, but I didn’t pay attention. A little like Gus,” Parker said, pointing to the article. “Taken in.”