Tax Assassin (2 page)

Seth smiled at the image, and his old friend
laughed. His laugh became a cough. Seth got up to get him a glass
of water.

“
I wouldn’t say no to some
of that sixty-year-old Scotch you keep down here,” McGinty gasped
through breaths. “You pour, and I’ll talk.”

“
Deal.” Seth got up from
the piano bench and went to the bar. He poured McGinty a few
fingers of Scotch. “Ice?”

“
Sure,” McGinty
said.

Seth got ice and a bottle of water from the
small refrigerator he’d installed under the bar and brought McGinty
the drink. He sat on the piano bench and watched his friend drink
down the Scotch. When his glass was empty, Seth got the bottle.

“
I forgot that you’re
trying to use up your father’s Scotch,” McGinty said.

“
I still have more than a
case,” Seth said.

“
It’s good Scotch,” McGinty
smiled

“
You were going to tell . .
.”

“
Yes, yes,” McGinty waved
at Seth’s impatience. “Why waste time with pleasantries when
there’s a murder on the line?”

Seth smiled.

“
It’s simple,” McGinty
said. “That’s why.”

“
Simple, unsolved, and a
doozy?”

“
That’s right,” McGinty
said.

“
What is it?”

“
Four individuals were
killed in the summer of 1994 in Minneapolis. I’d just made sergeant
and had a couple kids working under me. It was . . .
a good year. But any year before this . . .” McGinty
gestured to the portable oxygen tank. “ . . . was a
good year.”

“
Why ‘individuals’?” Seth
asked.

“
I knew you’d catch that,”
McGinty said. “Two men; two women – one old; two middle aged; one
young. Killed on different days of the week, in different areas of
the city, with different weapons – knife, couple handguns; shotgun;
but . . .”

“
No M.O.,” Seth took a
battered manila folder from McGinty’s outstretched hand.

“
No,” McGinty said. “At
least one of these is considered solved. This guy, Frank Kolar.
They charged the wife because she wanted a divorce and he wouldn’t
give it to her. There was some question of money missing from their
account six or seven months prior to this incident. Her defense
lawyer said he spent it on hookers and beer.”

McGinty nodded.

“
And?” Seth
asked.

“
She got off,” McGinty
said.

“
And you don’t think she
did it?”

McGinty shook his head. Seth waited through
a long, pregnant pause.

“
Okay,” McGinty said.
“You’re going to get there soon enough.”

“
Get where?”

“
There’s no link between
these murders,” McGinty said. “Or these.”

He took a folder out of the inside pocket of
his jacket and held it out. Seth took the folder and opened it.

“
Four more murders,” Seth
said. “Omaha.”

“
Kansas City,” McGinty
threw another folder onto the sofa. “Jefferson City. Bismarck has
five.”

“
Any more?” Seth looked to
see what else McGinty was carrying.

“
Not that I’ve found,”
McGinty shook his head. “But it wouldn’t surprise me if there were
more, a lot more.”

“
Why do you think
these . . . are related?”

“
Feeling,” McGinty said.
“That summer – 1994 – I couldn’t shake the feeling they were
related. Summer after? Omaha – four murders. You remember in those
days, we didn’t have the computers like we have now.”

“
And Omaha PD?”

“
They charged a guy with a
couple, but nothing stuck,” McGinty said. “They got somebody in
Jefferson City.”

“
But you don’t think he did
it?”

“
He didn’t do it,” McGinty
said.

“
Serial killer?”

“
Murder-for-hire,” McGinty
nodded. “That’s what I think. Kill a few in a city every summer and
move on. Those smart FBI profilers can’t see the connection, but to
me? It’s plain as day.”

“
The Kolar wife is guilty,”
Seth said.

“
Or the husband,” McGinty
said. “He could have changed his mind. She said he came home in a
rush that day and wouldn’t leave her side.”

“
He got in the way,” Seth
said.

“
Most people think I’m
nuts,” McGinty said.

“
I know you’re nuts,” Seth
said.

“
Ain’t that the truth?”
McGinty’s smile looked happy and worn, like a Jack O’Lantern that
had dried out in the hot sun.

“
But never about murder,”
Seth said.

“
I was a good detective,”
McGinty said.

“
You remember that day we
were supposed to go down in Cu Chi and you said . . .”

“
It’s not a good day to be
a rat.” Remembering the young man he’d been, McGinty brightened. He
sat up a little straighter. “You and Mitch were just kids. What
were you. Sixteen?”

“
Seventeen,” Seth said.
“You saved our lives.”

“
Was a long time ago,”
McGinty shrugged.

“
Did you ever put a
computer on this?” Seth asked.

“
I found the other cases,
if that’s what you mean,” McGinty said.

“
But never put all the
facts in a computer to see what came up,” Seth said.

McGinty shook his head.

“
What else should I know?”
Seth asked.

“
You mean you’ll take a
look at this?” McGinty asked.

“
Of course,” Seth
nodded.

“
Why?” McGinty
chuckled.

“
Because you deserve to die
in peace,” Seth smiled. “Plus, it gives me something to
do.”

“
While your hot girlfriend
is on a break?” McGinty asked.

Seth smiled.

“
Come on,” Seth said.
“Let’s get some rellenos.”

Seth helped his old friend to his feet, and
they made their way to the elevator.

“
You’ll keep me in the
loop?” McGinty asked.

“
When do you head back?”
Seth asked.

“
We’re vacationing in
Crested Butte for a week,” McGinty said. “Mary Ann’s at the art
museum this morning.”

“
Do you have email?” Seth
asked.

“
Mary Ann does,” McGinty
said. “She’s on that thing every day.”

“
Phone?”

McGinty nodded.

“
Landline?”

“
You mean one of those
portable cancer causers?” McGinty asked. “No thank you. I prefer to
get my cancer the good old-fashioned way – fighting for Uncle
Sam.”

He smiled and Seth chuckled.

“
How ‘bout this? I’ll call
you every evening,” Seth said. “Until your cruise.”

“
You think you can solve
this by the end of the month?”

“
I can try.”

McGinty nodded and they got on the elevator.
They rose to the first floor before McGinty said, “I sure hope you
do.”

“
Why?” Seth asked. “Why
this case?”

“
The guy gets away with
it,” McGinty said. “Twenty, thirty, fifty . . . a hundred murders.
He kills and walks away. Every time. He walks away. It . . . pisses
me off.”

As if on cue, the elevator doors opened to
the first floor.

“
It’s about time,” Maresol
yelled from the kitchen. “Your rellenos are getting
cold.”

Seth nodded to McGinty and followed him out
of the elevator.

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TWO

He felt the bed shift before she was on him.
He wrapped his arms around her warm body. She pushed his arms away.
She pulled at the covers, ripped his T-shirt, and yanked on his
boxer briefs. He opened his eyes to look at her. Her face was
flushed as if she’d been running and her inch-long dark hair was
wet with moisture. The slight sheen of moisture made her young,
perfect skin glow. Her eyes saw only the intensity of her need.

They’d been through this before.

She didn’t want to be held. She didn’t want
to be kissed. She didn’t want to be stroked or loved or listened
to. She wanted to feel something other than the numbness brought on
by her own intense emotions. She wanted hard, fast release. She
wanted what he could give her.

He gave her what he had. When he tried to
shift her under him, she fought him. She wanted to be on top. She
drove their exchange until they peaked in soundless passion and she
had the release she’d come for. Panting, she dropped to his
chest.

He pushed her away to look into her face.
She gave him the embarrassed smile she always wore after these
exchanges. She knew he loved her. She knew he didn’t judge her. She
was embarrassed by her own need.

“
Stay here,” he
said.

He got up, grabbed a robe, and went to the
kitchen, where he collected a Tupperware full of her favorite
brownies and a glass of milk. She was showering when he got back to
the room. He leaned his head into the bathroom. She waved for him
to join her.

She didn’t have to ask twice.

When they were done, he grabbed a towel and
left her to the warm water. After release, she needed to wash her
mind, body, and soul of the stain left by the remnants of her
numbness and sorrow. More herself, she returned from the bedroom
about a half hour later wrapped in a towel.

Dropping the towel, she slipped across the
bed until her head rested on his chest. She allowed his arm to drop
over her shoulder.

“
Missed you today,” he
said.

Moisture from her eyes fell onto his bare
chest. Angry with her own sorrow, she sat up and reached for a
brownie and the milk. Tucking a foot under her, she bit into a
brownie.

“
I saw the stack of files,”
she said. “Did you start work?”

“
Old friend brought me
something interesting,” he shrugged.

“
And the map?”

“
Series of summer murders
in one city, then moving onto the next city the next summer,” he
said. “I’ve called around. It’s possible the murders span the
country.”

“
Women? Serial
killer?”

“
My friend thinks
murder-for-hire,” Seth said. “I’ll know more tomorrow when I hear
from other departments.”

“
Sounds
interesting.”

“
I found myself with some
time on my hands, so I thought I’d take a look.”

She grimaced.

“
I haven’t really dug in
yet.” He smiled to reassure her. “I’ll have plenty to keep me busy
while you’re gone.”

Her eyes filled with sorrow. Turning away
from him, she ate her brownie and drank the milk.

“
What happened today?” he
asked.

“
Feds came and took
everything away.”

Her voice was rich and deep, with the
functional tonality of the baroque masters – Bach or Lully. He
allowed her words to flow over him.

“
My mom . . .”

Emotion caught her and for a moment she
could only cry.

“
They came – thirty, forty
of them – in the morning, early. 4:45? 5? Like you said they would.
I . . . let them in, and . . . they
were like an infestation and, we . . . had nowhere
to go.”

“
Backyard?”

“
The next-door neighbors
rented their upstairs rooms to the news channels,” she said. “We
went out back this morning, only to discover our own images on
television with jeering reporters announcing our shame.
And . . . parties! You remember that nice Mormon
boy, Craig?”

“
Your high school
boyfriend?”

“
Six houses from my house.
That’s where he grew up; where his family lives,” she shook her
head. “You know what he did? He threw a party. There was a banner
on his house that said, ‘The sluts’re getting what they deserve’
with an ‘i’.”

She rolled her eyes.

“
Nasty signs should have
good grammar,” Seth said.

“
Exactly,” she said. “If
you’re going to be nasty at least spell it correctly.”

“
Should be a law,” he
nodded. A corner of her mouth lifted in what might have been a
smile. Her brow furrowed and she ate her brownie.

“
I called him to ask him to
take it down,” she said and took a drink of milk. “You know what he
said?”

“
I can imagine.”

“
He said that I always
thought I was too good for him.” Her voice shifted in imitation of
his, “‘And all this time you were nothing but a whore in your
father’s stable. Is that why you wouldn’t screw me? I didn’t offer
you enough dough.’ In the background, everyone laughed. I . .
.”

“
Did you shoot
him?”

“
No,” she smiled at the
idea. “They took my gun when they took my badge.”

“
Would you like me to shoot
him?”

“
Would you?” she
smiled.

“
Amelie,” he
said.

“
No,” she shook her head.
Her voice echoed with desperation, “Call me Ava.
Please.”

He touched her tearstained face.