The Price of Candy (27 page)

She definitely felt a curious connection with
the victim. A strange sisterly empathy with ill-fated Betty Jo
Hodges. Not with the exotic dancing part, and not with the issues
that apparently remained with her because of George. But an
understanding of her attitude and reactions after riding for hours
fending off the impassioned congressman. Sandy could look
unemotionally at the saga of Freddy Kidde; he was unlikely to ever
gain insight into his behavior and comprehend what went wrong.

She regretted her failure to persuade him to
come forward. He was making a mistake, she thought. Although she
had provided some amateur psychotherapy to him, it was uncertain
whether the information he disclosed would help solve any of her
own problems.

She hit Dial #1. Chip agreed to meet her at
the Coffee Spot on the beach. He also admonished her to stop using
her phone while driving. Can’t get the cop out of the guy, she
thought.

Within the hour, they were in the Coffee Spot
with its red-topped chrome stools and old-time diner decor. They
first were acquainted there and it became their favorite rendezvous
place. Chip had parked his unmarked vehicle next to her MX-5 behind
the building and entered through the kitchen. They took their
favorite rear booth with Chip facing the front door as usual. The
waitress recognized them and was on the way with the thick mugs of
coffee before they had settled in.

“It was sad, Chip, watching a man confess to
human weaknesses that he himself doesn’t understand.”

“It’s sad enough for a man is to confess to
the weaknesses he is aware of.”

“Freddy...we’re on a first name basis
now...also had difficulty understanding his foolishness.” She blew
on the hot coffee and sipped. “I felt sympathy and pity for him at
the same time. You were right, Chip. The beach body was a stripper
after all. She was stranded and Kidde picked her up in Virginia.
They stopped overnight but it was plutonic, no thanks to him. Even
separate motels. The stop at the beach was innocent, on the way to
her mother’s home in Fort Lauderdale. Then it gets weird. Toby had
spotted them when they got gas in Jacksonville and followed them
down the beach. Toby saw her choke to death. This is all according
to Kidde of course.”

“So he claims she was a stripper hitchhiker
and not his mistress. I don’t buy that, sounds like a cover story
to me. Why wouldn’t a stripper go for a big-deal congressman?”

“That’s what he would like to know. You’d
believe it if you listened to his pathetic story of abject
frustration.”

“And Toby followed them so he could rob
them.”

“My, what a suspicious nature you have. I’m
telling you this isn’t your routine Florida small town murder
mystery. So, Toby gets one look at her in Jacksonville and was
overcome with a severe case of the hots. After she choked, Toby
wanted Kidde out of there so he could play around. He talked Kidde
into leaving her in his hands, so to speak. Kidde took off. Toby
stayed behind. Supposedly waiting for the police to show up.”

“Now I’ve got it,” Chip said. “So, Toby finds
out Kidde’s identity—sees him on TV or something—and demands hush
money. But Kidde didn’t do much wrong. Why did he pay Toby?”

“He absolutely positively didn’t want to be
connected to a naked dead woman. Sure, he exercised bad judgment in
not coming forward the next day when he learned she was abandoned.
Would that be a crime?”

“He could claim he assumed the police arrived
as expected.” Chip shrugged. “I know you want me to keep silent
about all this. But Moran might just close the Privado Beach body
case now with this new information. Why would Moran go after Kidde?
It’s a nothing case of failure to report. Kidde is powerful and
Moran wants to run for senator. He’ll need Kidde on his side.”

“I told Kidde that. For now, please withhold
the info. I may have to divulge it later if he doesn’t come
forward.” She motioned for more coffee. “Want to hear something
horrible? The woman had been raped before at age eighteen. By a
family friend. She didn’t press charges. And then this happens. If
I believed in curses, I’d say that woman was cursed. And once again
the evil perpetrator won’t be punished.”

“Drop it, Sandy. No doubt it was Toby, the
fanatical way he was telling you about movies and magic pills. He
went at that body like a shark smelling bloody water. Too bad he
didn’t meet his fate earlier. But providence has punished him, if
you want to think of it that way. Anyway, everyone has lost
interest. Give it up. It’s all been investigated. You’d better
worry about yourself now.”

“I’m going to try to deal my info to Moran.
Get this. Abby showed up at Kidde’s house and told him not to worry
about Toby anymore. That’s more than a hint she was going to do
away with Toby. She wanted the blackmail scheme all to herself.
There’s your motive. The police have already found the ten grand in
Abby’s house. So Moran can possibly add blackmail to her charges,
if not murder.”

“So you think you’ll give this to Moran and
he’ll be so grateful he’ll drop the charge against you? I don’t
think so.”

“All this makes it clear it was indeed Toby
who Abby intended to shoot that night at her house. She yelled his
name as she fired. Therefore, Abby’s attempted murder of Toby over
money has absolutely nothing to do with me. And that also makes
shooting Bruce Banks a mistake having nothing to do with me. Ipso
facto, I didn’t conspire. The defense rests. The charge against me
has to be dismissed.”

“Not bad. Get to Moran fast and have the deal
come through your attorney. It’d kill Moran to say yes to your
face.”

“You’re right. I need to get to Kagan on this
immediately. Moran could call him at any time.”

She dialed Kagan. “Jerry, we’ve got
Congressman Frederick Kidde involved in this right up to his
designer necktie. Yes, that’s who I said. We finally have something
to deal to Moran. You’ll need to meet with him as soon as you can.
Let’s get together tomorrow and I’ll fill you in. Right now I’m
going to give you the abbreviated version.” She continued talking
to Kagan for another ten minutes.

Chip finished his coffee. “You had me check
out Kevin Olin. You suspicious?”

“He asked me out for drinks to discuss the
case. Thought I'd check for a record. That’s all.”

“Isn’t he trying to get custody of his
daughter? You know, the noncustodial parent has been known to
kidnap the child? Are you sure about this guy?”

“Doesn’t fit. He did say, in order to gain
custody now, he’s going to inform the court that the shootings and
Abby’s failure to report the child missing is evidence of reckless
and improper parenting.”

She answered her buzzing phone. He watched
her face as it turned to a pale frown. Finally she said, “Yes,
sir.” She held the phone away from her ear and grimaced. Again,
“Yes, sir. I’m heading out there right now. Yes, sir.” She hung
up.

“What on earth?”

“Triney.” She appeared contrite. “Kevin had
called me earlier wanting to know if my meeting with Kidde shed any
light on the kidnapping. I told him no, but said we now had Abby
for blackmail and that’d be enough for him to get custody of Jamie.
I knew he’d be pleased to hear that.”

“You’re getting pretty chummy with this guy.
Why’d he have to know about the blackmail scheme?”

“He didn’t, I guess. I was trying to pacify
him. I goofed. Kevin has been bugging Triney to find Jamie. Kevin
let it slip about Abby trying to blackmail Kidde. All that was news
to Triney. He wants to see me now. He’s really steamed.”

It was dark by the time she drove into the
Ramada parking lot. This was turning into one long day. At least
the stress of dealing with Freddy Kidde was behind her. Now she
needed to pacify Triney. She needed his help and he was trying to
be on her side. In fact, it seemed to her that he had gotten
himself too emotionally involved in her problems.

She spotted his unmarked Crown Vic in the
side parking lot and slid into the seat beside him. He was still
riled.

“What was all that buddy-buddy, let’s work
together stuff you fed me. I’m working on Abby shooting Banks. You
know of some blackmail development and I have to hear about it
second-hand from Kevin Olin. Explain yourself, girl. You really
disappoint me.”

“Look, I just found out about Abby’s
blackmail attempt today. I couldn’t tell you right away. I was
going to take it to Moran. Trust me on this.”

“I wouldn’t trust you now between 11:59 and
midnight. I’m working on both the Bruce Banks murder and the Toby
Towalski murder. You know that. I shared some info with you on the
beach body case and did some off the clock favors on the unofficial
kidnapping. What do I get in return? If you know something to help
me, don’t I even deserve an anonymous tip?”

“You’re right, I’m sorry, you’re right. I
haven’t told Moran anything yet, so there’s still time for me to
make it up to you. However, we can’t officially talk unless I waive
my right to an attorney and I’m not going to do that.”

“You’re supposed to be so clever. You could
have phoned me and disguised your voice.” There was a small smile
in his voice; he was settling down.

“I really goofed by mentioning blackmail to
Kevin. I was trying to keep his spirits up, letting him know there
was some progress. All I told him was Toby Towalski and Abby Olin
were involved in a blackmail scheme. That’s what the money you
found in her place is all about. She wanted him out of the way to
get all the money for herself, thereby giving her a motive to shoot
Toby. And a motive is what you need to solve your case.”

“What’d you just say?”

“What? I'm not supposed to say anything. Did
I just say something? Just talking about Kevin.

He was pleased. “Okay. Sorry I got a little
hot there and overreacted. Who were they blackmailing?”

“I’ll try and make a deal with Moran. Trade
what I know in exchange for dropping the charge against me. After
that, I can tell you everything.”

“That’s different. I didn’t realize you were
taking it all to Moran. You just gave me a break for both of my
cases. Does the blackmailee live in my county?”

“No, I’ll give you his name later,” she
explained. “So you can’t talk about the Banks shooting with me,
right? But you can talk about the subsequent shooting of Toby.”

“You don’t give up, do you? Okay, I’ll give
you this. We believe Toby’s killer used a revolver as we found no
casing. The bullet lodged in his back. There’s a twist. The county
lab tech says it’s an old .32 long, an obsolete caliber for a
revolver. An odd duck.”

“I just gave you Abby’s murder motive,” she
said. “Do you know her whereabouts at the time of Toby’s
murder?”

“We’re working on it. Obviously, she’s a
suspect.” He turned in the seat and directly faced her. “Sandy,
you’re much better at this stuff than I ever suspected. Did you
think anymore about joining the sheriff’s department? We’d make a
dream team.”

“Thanks, but you’d get tired of me and my
mouth very quickly.”

“Don’t bet on that, Sugar.”

“Can’t think of any of that now. Finding
Jamie is number one for me. Then I’ll help you people find who
killed Toby. I can do it too. You watch me!”

“You’ve got me sold.” The detective studied
her intently as she swung her legs out and walked back to her car.
He waved as he pulled out into the traffic.

She sat in her little red Miata, leaned back,
and looked up at the cloudless night sky. The scary episode with
Toby and her long conversation today with Freddy Kidde seemed a
long way away. Some pieces were finally fitting together...at least
the pieces of other people’s problems. State Attorney Moran could
be counted on to make trouble for her as he’d vowed to do on
several occasions. If he considered just his own best interests,
he’d drop the conspiracy charge in return for her cooperation and
her findings. That would permit him to close the Privado Beach
case, and smooth the way toward a successful prosecution of Abby
Olin. Then again, he might continue prosecuting Sandy out of spite
born of their past confrontations.

Moran was a worry she’d put off until
tomorrow. She needed some down time. As she glanced around at the
dark parking lot, her eyes were drawn up the second floor balcony.
A light was on in Room 210.

What was Mr. Nice Guy doing right now? Would
she like to see him, relax a bit with him, possibly know him
better? Sure.

She found his number. “Kevin, why don’t you
come down to the lounge and have a drink with me?”

“Why don’t we go out for dinner instead? I’ve
been meaning to ask you, but you’re running around so much. I heard
about a nice quiet French place across town called Rendezvous.
Always wanted to go there. Would you like that?”

“Now you’re talking. May I run past my place
and change?”

“Sure, meet you at Rendezvous in one
hour.”

Sunlight streamed through the gaps around the
curtains and Sandy awoke. It took a moment for her to adjust to the
unfamiliar hotel room and remember why she was in a strange bed and
naked with half of her body uncovered.

At that moment, she heard the shower,
remembered Kevin, and her mind did a pleasant replay of the night
before. The impromptu dinner date had moved their relationship
along much faster than she’d anticipated. Faster and farther. No
morning-after regrets, yet she was surprised at her impulsiveness.
She leaned back on the pillows and smiled.

It had been a quiet and easygoing dinner at
Rendezvous. They hesitated before opting to eat outside on the
garden patio in January, however the restaurant had tall
lamppost-like heaters spaced about and the otherwise natural
evening atmosphere out there was charming. Charming and private.
They made ordinary, but interesting, conversation about their lives
and the time passed too quickly.