Twelve to Murder (A Mac Faraday Mystery) (11 page)

Chapter Twelve

Physically, Mac was sitting behind a vacant desk in the squad room while staring at the wall across from him without even seeing it. Mentally, he was replaying the whole day to analyze Lenny Frost, his relationship to Sela Wallace, and her role in the Stillman murders.

What prompted Lenny to grab the gun and take everyone hostage when he had an airtight alibi for the murders? Why didn’t he just come into the station and give his statement to clear his name? If he had, we probably would never have taken a second look at him. Is he crazy? Has paranoia pushed him over the edge even when he didn’t need it to go over?

“Do you think he’ll do it?”

David’s question was in keeping with Mac’s thoughts. Startled to hear the words voiced, Mac sat up in his seat to see David standing in front of him. “If we don’t find Sela Wallace before midnight and charge her, do you think Lenny will kill everyone in that pub?”

“Or will they care?”

“Why would they not care if they get shot or not?” David asked.

“I swear,” Mac said with a shake of his head. “This is the weirdest collection of characters I have ever run into. It’s like…” His voice trailed off. “I don’t know if it’s because they can’t see the reality of the situation or…”

David waited for him to continue. Finally, he changed the topic to what he had wanted to say in the first place. “A car was stolen from the hospital shortly after Wallace escaped. We believe she took it. It’s an old green Ford sedan.”

Instead of responding, Mac was staring straight ahead at the wall across the room.

“The sheriff has a BOLO out on the car,” the police chief said.

“We’re missing a vital piece of this puzzle,” Mac muttered.

“But what?” David asked.

“If I knew that then the piece wouldn’t be missing.”

Behind David, Archie cleared her throat. “Are you guys ready for a break in this case?” Clutching her laptop to her chest like a book, she stepped around the police chief and took a seat on the corner of the desk.

“More than ready.” Mac sat up in his seat and placed his elbows on the desktop. “Give it to me.”

She set the laptop down and opened the lid. “Sela Wallace has a very interesting history. Did you know that three years ago she did a stint for steroid addiction at the Recovery Center in Hollywood?”

“No, I did not know that,” Mac said.

“That’s the same center where they shoot
Star Rehab
,” Archie said. “And she was there during the same time period that Lenny Frost was appearing on that show.”

“Derrick Stillman said his mother hired Lenny at the club after he left the center,” David recalled.

“Based on how he’s been guzzling the booze at the Blue Whale, I don’t think the rehab took,” Mac said.

“Do they let the regular patients mix with the celebrities?” David asked.

Archie shrugged her shoulders. “This facility has the celebrities right in there with the common folks—including during group therapy. Now here is something else to ponder.” She tapped a key on her laptop. “Sela Wallace is not her original name.”

“Another alias?” Mac replied.

“No, Sela Wallace is her legal name,” she said. “She kept her married name after her divorce from her husband eight years ago. Her original name was Sela Drake.”

“Drake?” Mac repeated the name with a gasp.

“Her father was Carson Drake, the actor who Lenny Frost claimed had kidnapped him and took off with a million dollars in ransom. Neither he nor the money was every recovered.”

“I wonder if this is for revenge,” Mac muttered. “She targeted Lenny—blames him…”

Grasping the phone ringing and vibrating on his hip, David turned away. “O’Callghan here.”

“Maybe,” Archie replied. “Sela has a brother who also legally changed his last name to Harris.”

“Zachery Harris.” Mac grasped her hand. “Is he a writer?”

“He took his mother’s maiden name,” Archie said. “Beginning of this year, his book about the Lenny Frost kidnapping, in which Harris claims Janice Stillman and her husband were the masterminds, was published. They duped Carson Drake into snatching Lenny with the promise of representing him and making him a star. Then, they killed Drake and let him take the blame. Of course, the Stillmans sued Harris—”

“And settled,” Mac said. “Harris was in here this morning telling me about it.”

Archie chuckled. “Oh, was he? What did he tell you?
They
settled?”

“That they backed off.”

“Now that they’re dead…” In response to Mac’s raised eyebrows, she added, “Dead people can’t sue. I called a friend of mine at Harris’ publishing house. Stillmans did settle with the publisher for a very big amount, which the publisher is planning to collect from Harris. The Stillman suit against Harris was still going forward. Now that they’re dead, they can’t continue with the lawsuit and neither can Derrick on their behalf. You can’t defame a dead person.” She closed her laptop. “How’s that for motive?”

“That’s a whale of a motive.”

“Here’s something else,” she said. “That phone log that you took a picture of from Sela’s phone? A call made at around seven-thirty last night was to a phone registered in Zach Harris’s name. She was using a burn phone, but not him. We can check the towers to see if he was in the area when he took the call, which will place him here at the time of the murders.”

“Motive is revenge and ending the lawsuit,” Mac said.

“That’s not all.”

“You’ve been a busy girl,” Mac said.

“Zachery Harris got a call from that same phone just about ninety minutes ago,” Archie said. “That call lasted a little over four minutes.”

“She stole a car,” Mac said. “They must be coordinating an escape or finishing off Lenny Frost.”

Thumbing off his phone, David whirled around and pointed the phone at Mac. “That powder you took from Sela…”

“What about it? Was it cocaine?”

“And then some,” David said. “It was a suicide cocktail of cocaine, heroin, tranquilizers, and sleeping pills all mixed together. It was potent enough to kill a horse.”

“Kill the Stillmans, frame Lenny, and then kill him and make it look like a suicide,” Archie said. “I wonder if she had a nice confession in that purse of hers.”

“Works for me,” David said. “We already have a BOLO out on Sela.”

“You need to put one out on Harris and his vehicle for the shooting,” Mac said. “The murder weapon is a semi-automatic assault rifle. If Harris is the shooter, then he probably still has the weapon.”

“Do you want me to run a trace on his credit cards to see if I can turn up further proof that he was in the area last night?” Archie asked.

“My people should be doing that,” David said.

“Then why did you call me in?”

“Because you’re faster,” he said with a grin. “Our red tape slows us down.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “There are advantages to skirting the law.”

“You said that, I didn’t,” David said. “Check security cams and credit cards to see if you can place Harris here during the time of the murder and keep monitoring his phone. Let’s run this past Lenny and see if he’ll release the hostages and let us take him into protective custody.”

Archie jumped down from the desk to follow David. When they saw that Mac wasn’t following, they stopped to turn around.

“Why didn’t Lenny come to us?” Mac asked.

“He’s crazy,” David said. “He doesn’t think.”

“What about the suitcase in Lenny’s room,” Mac asked. “The one with the trash bags and duct tape?”

“We’ll ask Lenny all of our questions after we get him to release the hostages,” David said.

“If the Stillmans were in on the kidnapping, why did they sue?” Mac cocked his head at them. “Certainly, the suit put them under a microscope. If they were guilty, they would never have sued.”

“Maybe they weren’t involved,” Archie picked up the copy of the book that Harris had given to him earlier. “My friend said Harris used a lot of circumstantial evidence and a confidential source who he refused to reveal.” Placing the book in the center of the desk, she urged him to stand up and follow them.

Mac shook his head. “You guys go on.” He picked up his cell phone and thumbed through the contact list. “I need to make a phone call. I’m going to go back to the beginning.”

“The Stillman murders?” David asked.

“Lenny’s abduction.”

“Just the man I need to see.” Tonya stepped into the doorway to block David and Archie’s exit. She held out a clipboard to the police chief. “Signature on the time sheets for payroll.”

David removed the pen from his breast pocket and took the clipboard. “I’m assuming that all these times are right.” He smirked at her.

“If you’ve suddenly decided not to trust me, then you can take the clipboard up to your office and read the whole thing, along with everything else that I have you sign.”

“No,” David said, “you’ll just go to jail with me.”

With a wicked grin, Tonya looked him up and down. “Sounds cozy,” she laughed before turning to Mac. “Oh, something happened in the break room.” Capturing Mac’s attention, she added, “and Gnarly loves you so very much.”

“Poor Gnarly.” Archie knelt to greet the German shepherd who turned the corner to come into the squad room. With his ears folded back, he hung his head and laid it across her lap.

Mac asked Tonya, “How much?”

“Based on the slime content and smell,” Tonya said, “fifteen.” Despite David being in mid-signature signing the papers on the clipboard, she snatched the pen out of his hand. “Here, you can use the chief’s pen.”

Mac took his checkbook from the inside breast pocket of his sports coat.

“Are you paying Tonya fifteen dollars to clean up Gnarly’s mess?’ Archie asked.

“No,” Tonya replied with a glance over her shoulder while handing the pen to Mac. “He’s paying me fifteen hundred dollars to clean up Gnarly’s mess.”

“Mac, how could you?” Archie chastised him.

“It’s a mutually beneficial relationship.” Mac ripped the check from his checkbook and handed it to the smiling desk sergeant. “The mess gets cleaned up, I don’t have to touch it, and Tonya gets some extra income.”

“How do you think I was able to give myself that snazzy fire-engine red T-Bird for Christmas?” With a wave of the check, Tonya clutched the clipboard to her chest and trotted out of the squad room.

“Did you notice what just happened here?” David asked.

“Yeah,” Archie said. “Gnarly has been indirectly paying for Tonya’s new T-Bird.”

“No,” David said.

“Yes, he has,” Mac said.

“I’m talking about my being the police chief and she—” David stepped out into the hallway. “Have you ever noticed how much authority Tonya has here? She orders things in my name. She does up the time sheets.” He gasped. “She has my passwords! It would be so easy for her—”

“Tonya would never take advantage,” Archie said. “I’m sure it was Mac who set up this whole arrangement of her cleaning up Gnarly’s messes.”

“What’s the point of being rich if I don’t get any perks for it?” Mac replied.

David wasn’t paying any attention. Staring down the hall, he muttered under his breath. “I wonder how hard it would be for her to set up a drug dealing operation in my name.”

“What?” Archie gasped.

“I need to go make a phone call.” David hurried down the hallway and up the stairs to his office.

With a dance in her step and a cleaning mask covering her face, Tonya passed the chief on her way into the break room with a bucket and mop.

Stroking the top of Gnarly’s head, Archie told the dog, “Well, you certainly made someone happy today.”

Across the squad room, Mac brought his cell phone to his ear.

His call was picked up on the third ring. “Delaney here.”

“Special Agent Sid Delaney,” Mac said. “Do you know who this is?”

“Mac Faraday,” the special agent with the FBI replied. “How could I forget? How’s that lovely lady friend of yours? Still putting away bad guys with her pink handgun?”

“I got her a red one for Valentine’s Day.”

“How’s my favorite badass German shepherd?” the agent chuckled.

“Recovering from a wild weekend, I’m afraid,” Mac said. “Hey, I have a favor to ask.”

“Of course.”

“Lenny Frost.”

“I’ve seen the news,” Delaney interrupted him. “I figured you’d be messed up in that somehow. What can I do?”

“The kidnapping back in nineteen-ninety-eight,” Mac said, “could you get me copies of the case files for that and the murder of Carson Drake’s wife some time afterward?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Delaney mused, “I don’t know.”

“It’s important,” Mac said.

“What do you think you could find that agents over the last fifteen years have never been able to uncover?” Delaney asked. “Carson Drake and the money were never found. Drake’s wife was killed by drug dealers.”

“There have never been any arrests,” Mac argued. “I’m sure the money was marked.”

“And never turned up in circulation,” Delany said. “Look, I’m sure in your career you have run into murder cases where you knew who did it, but you simply couldn’t get enough evidence to make an arrest?”

“Did they suspect the Stillmans of masterminding the kidnapping?”

“Well, Derrick Stillman was certainly a suspect,” Sid Delaney said. “The kidnapper ordered him to deliver the ransom in Janice Stillman’s car. It was to be placed in a certain type of athletic bag with a specific brand, color—everything. Derrick drove over a bridge and tossed the bag, which our people had outfitted with a tracking device. The agents watched that bag for hours. After dark, they checked the bag and found the tracking device, but the money had been switched for cut up newspapers. The only one who could have made the switch was Derrick Stillman, who says to this day that he never had anything to do with it.”

“That’s why the finger has ended up being pointed at his mother, Janice Stillman,” Mac said.

“Money never turned up and no one has ever found any proof that she was behind it,” Delaney said.

“How about her leaving Hollywood and having all that money to set up her husband in business?”

“She inherited a fortune from some relative,” Delaney said. “Believe me, the feds have watched the Stillmans’ finances very closely. They’ve gotten no money or lived anywhere above their means without the feds knowing about it. If they have that million dollars stashed away, they’ve never gone near it.”

“Can I see the case file?” Mac asked.