An Insignificant Case, page 16
Sally ran outside, and an officer pointed toward the side of the house. When Sally rounded the corner, she saw a figure racing toward the forest that surrounded the estate. The rain was falling in sheets, and that made it hard to see if the person was a man or a woman, but Sally thought her prey looked slender enough and tall enough to be Elin Crane.
“Get her before she makes it into the trees!” Rawls shouted.
Sally ran distance to stay in shape, and she began to close the gap between herself and the fleeing figure. Then, just as she and two of the officers got close, Elin turned and fired. Sally hit the ground. When she looked up, Crane had disappeared into the woods.
Sally swore and got to her feet. She ran forward, cautious now that she knew that Crane was armed. When she reached the first line of trees, she slowed down and walked through it slowly with her gun leading the way.
She heard the officers crashing through the trees on either side. The canopy brought some relief from the downpour, but Sally was soaked when she walked into a small clearing. She turned slowly, worried that Crane could be hiding anywhere in the trees and underbrush that encircled her. When she didn’t see any movement, she edged between two trees in a line toward the last path she’d seen Crane take.
Just as Sally moved out of the clearing, an arm circled her throat, and a hard chop on her wrist knocked her gun to the ground. Seconds later, she was thrown down, and a gun barrel screwed into her temple.
“Don’t try to yell or I’ll have to hurt you,” Elin whispered. “I only shot at you so I could get into these woods, and I shot over your head. I don’t want to hurt you or any of the officers.”
“I understand why you killed Hall and Makarov,” Sally said. “We’ve seen the snuff film. Turn yourself in and we can work a deal where you get a lighter sentence.”
Crane laughed. “If I let you take me in, I’ll be facing multiple homicide charges. Those scum deserved to die for what they did to my sister and all the other girls, but I know enough law to know that I’m not going to get a slap on the wrist.
“But enough small talk. You’re going to lead me back to your car, and we’re going to drive away. When I’m safe, I’ll let you out. Help me and you’ll live.”
Elin pulled Sally to her feet and used the detective’s cuffs to secure her hands behind her back. Then she kept behind Blaisedale as she steered the detective through the woods in a circuitous route that took them onto the road behind the parked cars.
Two officers were standing near the front door, and they started to walk toward Crane and the detective.
“Ask them how Golden is doing,” Elin whispered.
“How is Golden doing?” Sally yelled.
“He’s alive. We sent for an ambulance,” one of the officers said.
“Tell them to go inside and wait for the ambulance to come,” Elin said.
Sally repeated what Crane had said. The officers, who were only too pleased to get out of the rain, went back inside Golden’s mansion.
When they reached Sally’s ride, Crane took Sally’s keys and put her in the passenger seat. Then she looped Blaisedale’s seat belt around her.
“Don’t try anything foolish and you’ll be okay,” Elin said as she drove into the night.
* * *
An ambulance was parked in front of Leon Golden’s mansion by the time Gordon Rawls and the other officers gave up the search for Elin Crane. Rawls was soaked to the skin and only too glad to get out of the rain. As soon as he entered Golden’s home, he spotted two EMTs working on Golden, who was sprawled across the floor. He was alive but leaking blood from a shattered kneecap. An officer was holding an evidence bag that contained a handgun.
Rawls talked to the EMTs, who were getting ready to put Golden on a stretcher. Then he watched as Golden was transported to the ambulance. As he looked around the entryway, it dawned on Rawls that he didn’t see his partner.
“Anyone seen Detective Blaisedale?” he asked.
“Yeah,” one of the officers said. “She and another person came out of the woods, a little before everyone else. She asked how Mr. Golden was doing. Then she told me to go inside and wait for the ambulance.”
“She was with someone else?” Rawls asked.
“Yeah. They were going to the car you drove in.”
“Was the other person a police officer?”
“It was raining hard and the other person was standing behind Detective Blaisedale, so I couldn’t see who it was.”
Rawls got an icy feeling in his gut. He walked out of the house and toward the spot where his and Blaisedale’s ride had been parked. The car was gone. Rawls raced to one of the patrol cars and put out an all-points bulletin for a stolen police car.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Bridget left to get the coffee, and Charlie closed his eyes. He thought about Elin. He should be furious at the way she’d played him for a fool, but it was hard to stay angry when he thought about why she’d tricked him into making her part of Guido’s defense team. He wondered what he’d do if he had a sister who was raped and murdered for entertainment and he knew the identity of the person who had murdered her.
A hand on Charlie’s shoulder jerked him awake, and he saw Bridget looking down at him. He realized that he must have drifted off. He flushed with embarrassment.
“Sorry,” he apologized.
“No need. When I came back with the coffee, you were out like a light. I decided to let you get your beauty sleep until I got intel from Golden’s estate.”
Suddenly, Charlie was wide awake. “Did Sally call you?”
“No, but Gordon Rawls did. Elin sent us Leon Golden’s confession.”
“That’s great!”
“There’s a problem. She shot him before he made it, so his lawyer is going to scream that it was coerced.
“And there’s one very big and very scary problem. Gordon thinks that Elin kidnapped Sally Blaisedale.”
* * *
Charlie thought about going home, but the news about Elin Crane and Sally Blaisedale had bummed him out. Charlie called Gary and Bob and asked them to meet him at the Buccaneer Tavern. They were waiting with two pitchers of beer and three mugs. Charlie made a dent in one pitcher while he brought the Barbarians up to date.
“Jesus, Charlie, you sure know how to pick ’em,” Gary Schwartz said when Charlie told them that Elin had killed Gretchen Hall, Yuri Makarov, and Brent Atkins and crippled Leon Golden.
“Don’t rub it in,” Charlie said. “I feel bad enough as it is.”
“You really liked her, didn’t you?” Bob asked.
“She always seemed to be out of my league, but I was hoping that something would happen.”
“She didn’t kill you,” Gary said. “So, she must have felt something for you.”
“Thanks, Gary, for seeing the silver lining in this mega- fucked-up situation.”
Bob wrapped his arm around Charlie’s shoulder. “We love you, Charlie.”
“Thanks, Bob. I do know I can always count on you two, no matter how screwed up you are.”
Gary raised his mug. “I’ll drink to that.”
Charlie and Bob joined him just as Charlie’s phone rang. He checked the caller ID.
“Hey, Bridget, you’re not still at your office, are you?”
“Are you drinking, Charlie?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Well, I have some information that may sober you up. Where are you?”
“I’m at the Buccaneer Tavern with two degenerate bikers.”
“Gary and Bob?”
“You guessed it.”
“I’d ask you to drive downtown, but I’d have to prosecute you for DUII, so sit tight and I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
* * *
“Good evening, gentlemen,” Bridget said when she took a seat at the table with Charlie and the bikers.
“That’s the first time anyone has ever called Gary a gentleman,” Bob said.
“She sees the real me, asshole,” Gary said.
Bob smiled at the DA. “Still think he’s a gentleman?”
“I overlook the faults of anyone who saves my life, Bob. Even yours.”
“Touché,” Bob said with a grin.
“I didn’t know you spoke French,” Gary said.
“If you two are done, I’d like to hear why Bridget is here,” Charlie said.
“I called in a favor at the crime lab. Carrie Stanton found prints on the memo and ran them through AFIS, the Automated Fingerprint Identification System. Alexis Chandler grew up in Scranton, Pennsylvania. She was a high school track star who went to UCLA on a track scholarship before dropping out in her sophomore year after severely injuring a man in a bar after he grabbed her breast. The DA said what she did was overkill, but her lawyer got her a deal, and the charges were dismissed when she joined the army, where she received the type of training that makes her extremely dangerous. Chandler served tours in Iraq and Afghanistan and is an expert markswoman with sniper training, very skilled in hand-to-hand combat, and she’s a whiz with computers and tech.”
“In other words,” Gary said, “she is one dangerous motherfucker.”
“You hit the nail on the head, Gary,” Bridget said. “She left the army a few years ago and went back to college to finish her degree. She was going into her senior year when Annie, her younger sister, disappeared. Annie left Alexis an excited voicemail telling her that Leon Golden was auditioning her for a part in a picture. When Golden and Hall were arrested at the Oscars, Alexis moved to Oregon and brought her skills with her. You know the rest.”
Gary raised his mug. “To outlaws everywhere. May the gods watch over Alexis.”
“Have you heard anything new about Sally Blaisedale?” Charlie asked.
“Yes, and it’s good news. Alexis let her go near the California border. She’s unharmed.”
“That is good news,” Charlie said.
“I’ve had a very long and very stressful day,” Bridget told Charlie. “So, I’m heading home. You are in no condition to drive, and neither are your friends. Can I offer you a lift? You can pick up your car tomorrow.”
“I’m pretty beat too, so I’ll accept your kind offer.” Charlie stood up, swaying a little as he did.
“Take good care of Charlie,” Bob said. “Good lawyers are hard to find.”
Bridget guided Charlie to her car. Charlie had to fight to keep his eyes open, and he lost the battle. When Bridget parked in front of Charlie’s apartment building, she saw that her passenger was asleep. She smiled. Then she shook his shoulder. Charlie’s eyes opened, and he looked lost.
“We’re here. You nodded off,” Bridget said.
“Gee, I’m sorry. I didn’t snore, did I?”
“Fortunately, no.”
Charlie straightened up and opened his door. “Thanks for babysitting me.”
Bridget smiled. “You were a breeze compared to some of the brats I sat for when I was in high school.”
Charlie laughed. “I appreciate you coming to the Buccaneer to bring me up to date.”
“I thought you deserved to know what I found.”
“Well, thanks for everything. Get a good night’s sleep.”
Charlie was going to say, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” but he stopped himself when he realized that he would probably not see Bridget now that Guido’s case was over.
Bridget drove off, and Charlie made the trek up to his apartment. He shucked his clothes in the hallway, shuffled into the bathroom, then dropped into bed. But he didn’t nod off right away. He thought about Alexis Chandler.
Elin Crane had been the girl of his dreams—stunningly beautiful with an amazing body and really smart. Way out of his league, and head and shoulders above anyone he’d ever dated. He’d been infatuated with her until he found out that Elin Crane was a façade behind which a duplicitous killer was hiding. He concluded that he’d thought with his dick instead of using his brain. As soon as it became clear that she was using him as part of a plan to avenge her sister, anything he felt for her had disappeared.
Now he thought about Bridget Fournier. Bridget had integrity. She was solid and trustworthy and gutsy and smart, and it dawned on him that he really liked her. He decided she was someone he’d like to know better. And he could do that, if Bridget were willing, now that Guido’s case was over.
He gathered his courage and got out of bed. He guessed that Bridget had just gotten home. He found her number and called her.
“Charlie?” Bridget said when she answered.
“Uh, yeah. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No. I was just getting ready for bed. Why are you calling?”
“Uh, I was thinking of something. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But now that we’re not on opposite sides of a case, I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner sometime.”
Bridget laughed. “I think that would be nice, but it can’t be at the Buccaneer Tavern.”
“No, no. It will be at a restaurant that we mutually agree on. You can even pick the place.”
“Deal. If you still want to have dinner with me when you sober up, call me in the morning.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Three months later, Charlie stood in a crowd at the Portland International Airport, waiting for Miriam Adler to walk onto the concourse. Charlie didn’t know what Guido’s mother looked like, but Miriam had seen Charlie on TV, and he towered above the other excited family members and friends who congregated in front of the exit doors.
At Charlie’s urging, Guido had called Miriam. The initial phone conversation had been strained, but there had been subsequent long-distance talks that had resulted in Miriam asking if it would be okay to visit and Guido consenting.
Miriam was going to stay at the farm, and Charlie had volunteered to pick her up and drive her there so Guido wouldn’t have to take time from painting.
While Charlie waited, his thoughts drifted to Alexis Chandler. Charlie and Bridget Fournier had been seeing each other, and that was going really well. Bridget kept him up to date on the hunt for Chandler, who was still at large. Alexis had been sighted in Spain, but there were also reports that she was in Chile and the Bahamas. In other words, no one knew where she was. Part of Charlie rooted for Alexis. He knew she was a killer and she had made a fool of him, but he couldn’t help feeling that everything she’d done was justified—if not by the statutes of the State of Oregon, then by the biblical rule of an eye for an eye. Given the atrocities the men in Golden’s sex club had committed, Charlie found it hard to condemn Alexis for avenging her sister and the other victims, a sentiment shared unanimously by Bob Malone, Gary Schwartz, and the other members of the Barbarians Motorcycle Club.
Leon Golden was singing like the proverbial canary in hopes of avoiding an indictment that charged him with being an accessory to murder. Using his information and the contents of the flash drive, the DA’s office had arrested seven men. Some were prominent businessmen and politicians. The list included Anthony Noonan, who was facing a murder charge, and Henry Roman. One thing that Golden said made Charlie very sad. Alexis had asked him what happened to Annie’s body. Golden said that Yuri Makarov had disposed of it, and only Makarov knew where she was. Now that Makarov was dead, it was unlikely that Annie would ever get a proper burial.
Charlie’s practice was starting to pick up too, thanks to all the publicity he’d gotten from Guido’s case. He wasn’t raking in the dough, but he was getting enough business to justify hiring an associate, who was now using the office Elin Crane had worked in.
Miriam’s plane had landed twenty minutes earlier, and a steady flow of passengers had walked into the waiting arms of the people who had turned out to greet them. Charlie watched a family of four come through the exit. They were followed by a plump woman who was barely five feet tall. She had curly black hair with a scattering of gray and soft brown eyes that were scanning the crowd. The eyes stopped when they focused on Charlie, and the woman managed a tentative smile. Charlie smiled back, and moments later, they were headed toward the baggage claim.
“How was your flight?” Charlie asked as they took the escalator down.
“It was long, but the woman next to me was very nice, and we talked through a lot of it.” Miriam looked embarrassed. “I’ve never been on a plane before. Jerry didn’t like to travel, and we didn’t have a lot of extra money for vacations.”
“Given the current state of air travel, you’re lucky,” Charlie said. “At least your flight wasn’t canceled.”
“That’s my bag,” Miriam said as she pointed to a valise that had just come out of the chute.
“No lost bags,” Charlie said with a smile. “You’re batting a thousand.”
* * *
Charlie parked his car in front of Guido’s barn. Then he went around and opened the passenger door for Miriam Adler. He could tell Miriam was very nervous during the ride to the farm, and he tried to assure her that everything would work out, even though he wasn’t completely sure. Guido was still Guido and as unpredictable and volatile as ever.
“You need to know a few things about your son,” Charlie had said when they were on the highway. “First—and I have no idea how this will play out—Larry really thinks that he is Guido Sabatini, a reincarnation of a Renaissance painter who studied with Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci. During the time I represented him, he wouldn’t respond when he was addressed as Lawrence Weiss.”
Miriam smiled. “I’ve called him Larry during our phone calls, and he hasn’t objected.”
“That’s a good sign,” Charlie said. Then he hesitated before bringing up the next topic. “Ms. Adler, there’s no easy way to put this, but Guido has serious mental problems. He should be seeing a psychiatrist to deal with his childhood traumas. I’ve suggested that he see someone, but he resists the suggestion. You should see if you can convince him to get help, but let it drop if it interferes with reestablishing your relationship.
