Rip Tide (A Ripple Effect Cozy Mystery, Book 2) (24 page)

"In Texas, gaming is illegal. Where was he gambling?" Rip asked.

"Online. He got hooked on some poker site that costs real money to play, and it was real money you had to pay when you lost. He was also into some loan shark for a lot of money he'd lost when he went to Vegas with his girlfriend the first week of September."

"You are referring to the woman accompanying Dr. O'Keefe this evening?" Rip asked, pointing to the couple now dining out on the deck.

"Yes, sir. O'Keefe and his ex-wife out there split right before Cooper took Avery to Vegas on a gambling vacation. I'm surprised to see O'Keefe and Avery dining together tonight, considering the bitter custody battle they've been engaged in."

"Oh!" I said. "So you know about Liz?"

Regina looked at me in bewilderment as her equally bewildered husband nodded in agreement. Milo stopped for a few seconds to regroup and remember where he'd been going with his response to Rip's inquiry about Avery Curry. "So, anyway, he was being badgered and harassed by some dude to pay up. The demands became increasingly threatening."

"Is the loan shark local?" Rip wanted to know. He swallowed the last bit of his drink and signaled to our waitress to bring him another. Reggie was still nursing hers, as was I. However, I noticed the Vodka Collins Milo had ordered after he'd drained his margarita was already half-finished. He quaffed the remainder down in one long swallow and asked the waitress for a refill when she arrived with Rip's drink.

"No. If I remember right, the loan shark lives in El Paso. But he has this thug working for him who's been putting so much pressure on Coop that he started drinking heavier and heavier. The goon was leaving threatening messages on his cell phone using a voice-modulator like you see on TV when someone's being held for ransom."

When Rip briefly glanced at me in perplexity, I said, "There's probably an app for that."

Milo nodded his head, and agreed. "Like everything else, there
is
an app for that, and I'm sure that's what this guy was using to bully Cooper. I tried to get Coop to take the matter to the police, but he wouldn't listen. Said the caller was all talk. I listened to a few of the messages and I thought the voice was British, but I couldn't be certain because of the way it was altered by the modulator."

      Rip nodded but didn't respond. He motioned for Milo to continue.

"Eventually, to get this thug off his back, Cooper borrowed money from our business account without telling me. He acted like he wasn't bothered by this guy's terrifying messages, but I knew he was worried. I know I was concerned about what this thug might do to him. So I can't say I totally blame him for tapping our business account. He'd originally planned to get it paid back quickly, no doubt hoping I'd never have to know about it. With his recent out-of-control drinking binges, and all, I wasn't convinced he hadn't accumulated new debt in the meantime. This same dude with the British-sounding voice left a voice-mail on our office phone about a week ago. I discovered the threatening message Friday afternoon when I stopped by our shop to get some time-sensitive documents. On the taped message his eerie-sounding voice said, 'This is your final warning.' Coop had been on the verge of alcoholism for twenty years, but even at his worst, he was at least a functioning drunk. I'm sure that's why he was already blitzed by noon Saturday when I ran into him at Crabby's."

That was quite likely the most words I'd ever heard Milo speak in a row. And every single one of them was spoken in a trembling and panicky manner, which made me feel for Milo. The agony in his voice reassured me he was telling us the absolute truth.

"And you didn't think to tell all this to the investigators when they interviewed you Monday morning? Couldn't you have at least clued me in about it?" Rip asked. There was resentment in his tone. "What's up with you, Milo? I hate to say it, but in the detective's eyes, you're behaving like a guilty man trying to cover his tracks, bud. What else do you know that you haven't told anyone?"

"I swear I had nothing to do with my friend's murder, Rip! Please believe me. I wouldn't do something like that to my worst enemy." Turning a bit green around the gills, Milo pushed away the appetizer plate next to his glass of water that the waitress had recently delivered.

"Was Cooper your worst enemy at the time of his death, Milo?" Rip asked, clearly not yet won over by his son-in-law's declaration of innocence.

"No, of course not. I loved him like a brother, Rip. I really did. Ask Regina."

Regina nodded woodenly. She'd made it clear earlier she wasn't all that fond of Cooper, but I'm sure she understood the two business partners had a long-standing friendship.

Milo resumed explaining his relationship with the victim. "We've had our squabbles over the years, naturally, but it never affected our friendship. We'd have forgotten and forgiven the Friday afternoon brawl in the bar's parking lot within days, I assure you."

The greenish tint to Milo's complexion made him appear as if the shrimp he'd eaten off the appetizer platter were rancid from being out in the sun too long. But despite any queasiness he might have been experiencing, he continued to defend himself.

"I'm scared to death, sir. Those messages for Cooper have me really shook up, and I'm afraid of what this dude might do to me if I mention him to the cops. You should have heard some of the things he threatened—no, actually promised—to do. Not just to Cooper, but to me and my family, too. He even knew Dusty and Tiffany's names and where they lived. I had hoped the homicide detectives would arrest the killer without me having to put my family's well-being in jeopardy."

It shook me to the core to hear Milo say this bully had even threatened to do harm to my grandchildren. Tiffany was Regina's twenty-eight year-old daughter who lived with her husband in Albuquerque. Dusty, who was named after my late brother, was twenty-six and living in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, with his male partner. We didn't get to see our grandchildren often, but I spoke with each of them nearly every week on the phone.

"I understand your concern. But you still need to come clean with the crime scene investigators, son. Keeping important information to yourself is not going to help the police force get this killer arrested and off the street." Rip was obviously exasperated with Milo. He tried to reassure Milo and ease his fears. "I'll see to it you have police protection until this murder case is closed."

"Yeah?" Milo's appeared unmoved. He evidently needed more convincing than Rip could offer. I knew I would. "So, what about your daughter, Rip? For that matter, what about you and Rapella? Are we all going to be followed by cops at all times of the day and night? It's Regina I'm most worried about."

"You and me, both, son. No offense." This was clearly a catch-22 situation for Rip. He desperately wanted Cooper Claypool's killer caught and brought to justice. After all, the focus of his life for many years had been putting bad guys behind bars and protecting good guys from being victimized by them. But just as adamantly, he wanted to keep his family safe and sound. Could he really put his only child in harm's way, even if it was his best hope of exonerating her husband?

I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I leaned toward Reggie as she quietly whispered to me. "By 'police protection,' is Daddy referring to that witness protection program where we'd have to move away from everyone we know and assume new identities?"

"No, sweetheart. Nothing near that life-altering. Just police officers keeping an eye out for your personal safety around the clock until this crime is solved and the real killer has been apprehended. Relax, honey. Your dad knows what he's doing, and he'll make sure you're never in any kind of danger." Even as I tried to assure her with my comforting words, I was praying for my daughter's safety. I leaned back in my chair as Rip questioned Milo about the threatening calls.

"Please tell me you saved those messages sent to Cooper by the thug, or thugs."

"No, sir. I'm sorry. I never imagined they'd end up being important in a murder investigation."

"None of them? Seriously, Milo? Not even this last one you just discovered Friday?"

Milo shook his head apologetically for the second time, and Rip slammed his drink down with a thud. It made a hard enough impact that water jumped out of several of the glasses on the table. Then Rip exploded with a few profanities I wouldn't have wanted to repeat. Finally, he settled down and asked wearily, "What in the tarnation were you thinking, boy?"

Half of the people in the restaurant turned to scrutinize us once again. I wanted to tell them all to mind their own business, particularly that nosy Bertha Snow who I'd recognized from across the room. She'd been shoveling it in like she was dead set on acquiring a third, or was it fourth, chin. But as sure as I'm telling you this story, Bertha would be the first to pass on her rendition of the disturbance at our table to every gossip hound in her 'Purple Hat' club.

I restrained myself from making a scene to avoid a disgusted look from Rip, even though he'd prompted the situation himself with his exceedingly loud cursing.

"I guess I wasn't thinking, sir," Milo responded. In alarm, he'd pushed himself a foot or two away from the table when Rip had laid into him. Under normal circumstances, Rip would have requested Milo refer to him by his first name, but I sensed he intentionally didn't in this case so to maintain the upper hand. He wanted to keep Milo on the defensive, where he was more apt to leak any knowledge regarding the murder he'd previously held back. Rip was impatient, wanting this canary to sing with no further delay.

"What's the loan shark's name, Milo?"

"I don't know, sir. Neither Coop nor I had a clue to his true identity."

"Okay. So what
do
you know about this local goon who works for the El Paso loan shark and was pressuring Cooper?" Rip asked.

"Not much. Never met him or heard his real voice. As I told you already, even the British accent might have been a result of the voice disguiser's distortion capabilities. I don't know his actual name, but Coop referred to him as Captain Hook. He must have introduced himself to Cooper with that nickname," Milo replied, before swallowing as if his throat was filling with bile. The poor guy looked miserable, and I felt for him. I knew he was being more open and honest than Rip could have hoped, but it wasn't nearly enough to satisfy the former detective.

"Okay," Rip said. He took a long, deep breath to keep himself calm. He was usually a very mild-mannered man. But if you ignited his fuse, you'd better jump when and exactly how high he demanded. With annoyance, he asked, "So let me ask you this. What have you done about the financial quagmire the company had found itself in? Have you personally done anything to try and appease Julio Sarcova?"

"I tried. Coop knew MC Hammerheads was in the red already and didn't want to borrow the money to satisfy the buyer. I appealed to him to let me loan the company some capital, interest-free, until things turned around. I'd been putting excess funds away for a rainy day and felt it was in Reg's and my best interest to use our personal savings to get the company back into the black." Milo paused to turn toward Regina, shrug, and whisper, "I'm sorry." Then he turned his attention back to Rip and continued. "After all, MC Hammerheads provides a major portion of our livelihood, and taxes on Key Allegro don't come cheap, you know."

"Yes, I
do
know. If you remember right, I tried to talk you two out of buying a pricey home on the island until you had accumulated enough money in savings to put down a substantial down payment. But, instead you—"

I interrupted Rip before he veered off course just when we were gathering crucial information. "Honey, that's water under the bridge. Let's stay on topic and let Milo continue with his story."

Rip nodded after a short hesitation and encouraged Milo to continue.

"So, I knew we had several lucrative contracts on the horizon if we bid the jobs conservatively. If we'd tried to make it all back on one project, we'd never be the lowest bidder. But I couldn't convince the hard-headed guy to let me help bid the jobs, or fix the issue and prevent a lawsuit. I mean, don't get me wrong. I loved the dude like a brother, but he could be very obstinate and hard to deal with at times. I was concerned about his drinking and gambling, but I couldn't get him to talk it over with me. That's basically what started the fight in Crabby's parking lot. I found him drinking there after he'd told me he'd be visiting his dying uncle. He'd promised to complete a project we were coming down to the wire on before he left for San Antonio. I was counting on him to make good on his word, you know. But he accomplished nothing on either Thursday or Friday, and the job was left to me to finish, which I managed to do Saturday morning before I headed over to Crabby's. We had enough to deal with as it was, without one partner bailing out on the other and leaving him in a tight spot."

"I see. So it sounds like he had his own demons to deal with," Rip replied, thoughtfully. "I assume you knew about the company's ever-increasing debt to Mack's Well Company, also. Correct?"

"What? What debt?" It was clear by the way Milo's face instinctively flushed, he knew nothing of the impending lawsuit threatened by Mack Schilling to recover the money due the well-digging company. I totally believed him when he said, "I have no idea what debt you're referring to."

Rip asked me to explain to Milo what we'd learned earlier that day at Mack's Wells, Inc. Afterward, Milo turned to Reggie and asked, "Why didn't you tell me about that before we headed over here for supper?"