Volume 1 of 2, p.18
He Was Deceived, page 18
part #1 of Zachary Goldman Mysteries Series
“Nothing.”
“Nothing,” she confirmed.
That could only mean one of two things. Either Baker had gone dark, intentionally disappearing and changing his name and identity, or he was dead.
Forget the witness protection program. It was rarely used, and if Baker had been a witness in a big mob trial, Heather would have found records of it in her search.
Either he was dead, or he had covered his trail. Maybe he was a pedophile, and he had needed to change his identity and go underground to escape the wrath of a parent or a warrant for his arrest. It was a possibility. If he’d had a legal name change, Heather probably would have been able to find a record of it. If he had ever worked again using his social security number or filed taxes, Heather would have been able to find out. For Baxter to stay below the radar for that length of time, he would have had to work for cash under the table somewhere, using a new name and forged identity papers. Most people found that difficult to do without eventually giving themselves away.
So, dead?
He let that thought simmer for a while. Could Ronnie Baker be dead? If he were, then who had killed him? The parent of a child he had molested? Suicide? Or had he been killed in an “accident” like Edie Dwayne? He had disappeared around the same time as Edie had died. He doubted that was a coincidence. Had someone been trying to quiet witnesses? Had something been happening in Senator Neufeld’s campaign office that had to be kept quiet?
“Zachary?”
He focused back in on the phone screen. “Yeah.”
“Do you have anywhere else I should look? Do you want me to keep searching?”
“No. Let’s leave that one where it is. What about Brent Cousins? Is he still around?”
“He is still a practicing lawyer. Big firm. Seven figures. Crappy credit rating.”
“Does he still work for Senator Neufeld?”
“Yeah, it looks like it.”
“Anything unusual or concerning in his background? I mean, he’s a lawyer, so there could be anything but…?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t done a lot of backgrounds on lawyers, so maybe it is just me, but… a lot of the articles I can find online that mention him, he is ‘no-commenting’ about this or that scandal or political decision. I don’t know what to think of him. The bios are all positive and recount some of the big cases he has worked on, but most are pretty old. I just get the feeling… they’re not quite true. Just puffery.”
“That could be. If you think that he’s a scoundrel, he probably is.”
She gave a little laugh. “You think I have good instincts about people?”
“I do,” Zachary agreed, not making light of it. She stopped laughing, made an mmm-hmm noise, and went on.
“So I might still look for more on the lawyer because I think there is more there if I dig down deeply enough. And then there’s the senator…”
Kenzie returned from the bedroom and walked into the kitchen. Zachary lowered his voice, not wanting her to know they had gotten onto the subject of work. He was just supposed to be wishing Heather a Merry Christmas.
“What did you find out about the senator?”
“Well, like you said, there is all this public stuff… They control what shows up in the media about him. But there’s also… There are threads about him on some message boards and chat rooms. Maybe there are on all politicians. I mean, when you’re in the public eye, people are bound to imagine that you’re getting into all kinds of trouble even if you are not, right? People don’t trust politicians, so they assume the worst motives, think they see things where there are not.”
“Yeah, I would guess. Are there any recurring themes?”
“Oh, good question. I guess… there’s a lot of stuff about there being a lot of money behind him. Not his own money, I mean. Not family riches. But money that he has raised, for campaigning or other purposes. I did a search, though, and the Secretary of State tracks donations to political campaigns, and they don’t show anything suspicious.”
“No violations at all?”
“No.”
Zachary thought about that. He hadn’t been that involved in any political campaigns, but he had worked with some politicians or people involved in fundraising. He had investigated a number of cases of insurance fraud and other financial issues, so he knew a little of how the world of high finance worked.
“Can you compare some of the other campaigns?” he suggested. “I know that in the past… I’ve worked with people who have accidentally over-contributed to a campaign. They didn’t know the legal limit, or they accidentally contributed twice, or two family members both donated and it was flagged as suspicious. It’s easy to over-contribute. The candidates just have to refund the monies as soon as they discover the error.”
“So it’s suspicious if he’s never had any over-contributions?”
Zachary nodded slowly. “That’s what I’m wondering. But I could be off base. Would you check next week, when you’re back to work?”
“I’ll find out,” Heather agreed. “He’s an interesting man. Self-made rather than old family money. One of these ‘I pulled myself up by my own bootstraps’ types.”
“Hmm.” Zachary thought about his meeting with Neufeld. He had never said anything either way, but Zachary had assumed that he was from old money like most of the politicians he knew of. “How did he make his money? I would expect someone like that to still show some of the signs of coming from the working class. Less expensive suits and watches. Maybe an old car. An old wife.”
Mrs. Neufeld looked much younger than her husband, but could have had work done. Which would be another sign that his wealth ran deep, and he wasn’t just an upstart.
Heather laughed at this. “I’ll look into that. I think he had a construction business.”
She didn’t seem to clue in to the possibility of “construction business” being the equivalent of “mob ties.”
Had Edie gotten herself cross-threaded with someone in the mob? Either the senator himself, or someone who had come into the campaign office to talk to him? The mob could be pretty swift to act, not needing actual proof of any violation. The mere suggestion that Edie would be trouble for the campaign might have been met with swift justice—or injustice.
“Be careful,” Zachary warned. “Don’t post anything about him or leave any trail. Don’t ask anyone any questions. If you look into his business, only do it through the public databases, where you cannot be tracked.”
Heather’s forehead creased. “Be careful of what?”
“If this guy has ties to organized crime, I don’t want him hearing a rumor that you have been asking questions about him. Don’t do anything traceable.”
“You think he has ties to organized crime?”
“Maybe. I don’t want to find out the wrong way.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll be careful. I’ll go incognito, not ask anything in forums, and wipe my trail.”
He’d trained her well. Zachary smiled. “Good. Well…” Kenzie came into the room. “Merry Christmas. Hope you have a good day with Grant!”
He turned the phone so that she could see Kenzie as well.
“Merry Christmas, Heather,” Kenzie echoed.
Zachary terminated the call.
35
Despite her threats, Kenzie did let Zachary drive the car to Burlington to have dinner with her parents. He’d slept a couple of hours, as she’d suggested, so he was not in danger of falling asleep at the wheel on the way there.
They’d called Mr. Peterson and Pat before leaving. Both seemed well and contented, enjoying the special time together and looking forward to spending some time with Pat’s mother and sister, who he had only recently been reconciled with.
Pat’s father dying had cleared the way for him to reconnect with his family. Zachary had no idea how Gretta and Suzanne could have agreed not to have any contact with Pat until that point. Pat was a great guy, talented in many areas and very warm and caring, and Zachary didn’t see how Pat’s father could have bullied everyone into following his dictates just because Pat was gay. As if isolating themselves from him and preaching their bigoted beliefs would somehow convince Pat to give up his identity and return to them at some point, agreeing to align himself with their convictions. They had missed out on a lot of years with a great man.
Kenzie shifted in her seat. She looked at the cars around them, studying them suspiciously, jumping if a car suddenly shot by them. She watched behind them for a few minutes.
“Are you okay?” Zachary asked.
“I’m fine.”
“You seem nervous.”
“I’m fine,” she repeated more firmly.
Zachary looked in the rearview mirror, analyzing and cataloging the vehicles behind them. “We are not being followed,” he told her.
Kenzie’s head snapped around and she looked at him. “What?”
“You seem concerned that someone might be tailing us. So I told you—there isn’t.”
Kenzie scowled, looking back over her shoulder again. “There are too many cars. How could you be sure?”
“Experience. Hypervigilance. Being aware of everything going on in the cars around me.”
“You can’t watch all of them.”
He shrugged. “Most of them. Some, I know I don’t have to worry about. I can eliminate the cars with families or those that drop back and never speed up again. The ones that take exit ramps and don’t show up again further down the road. Vehicles that pass often slow down again later, so I try to stay on top of them. A tail car will often pass, hoping you’ll discount it.”
Kenzie looked at all the vehicles around them. “You can’t keep track of all of these.”
He shrugged and stepped on the gas. They zipped past several cars. Zachary kept his speed up for a couple of miles, then slowed to closer to the speed limit and pulled over a couple of lanes. Kenzie’s face was white and pinched. She held on to the door handle on her side.
“What are you doing? You’re just going to attract attention or get a speeding ticket?”
“Did you see any other cars speed up when we did?”
“No… but they could be hanging back farther.”
“Yeah, but once we got out of sight, they would need to speed up to stay with us. And no one did.”
“There could be another car following us that you didn’t know about.”
Zachary shook his head. “You don’t need to worry,” he assured her. “I’ve been doing this for a lot of years. It’s second nature.”
“It isn’t like you’ve never been followed. What about the bomb? Someone followed you home.”
“I don’t think so. I think she looked through their computer system to see what address they had delivered packages to before.”
“She could have followed you.”
Zachary sighed. As much as he would like to talk Kenzie into believing him and understanding she was safe, she wasn’t going to listen to logic and reason.
He knew how anxiety worked. It didn’t matter whether it were logical or not. A fear could be completely nonsensical. That didn’t take it away. Once the brain decided something was a danger, no amount of arguing would fix it.
“I’ll protect you,” he assured her. “You’re safe with me.”
She pressed her lips together in a thin line. “I don’t need protecting. I’m just fine.” She shrugged her shoulders, the movement stiff and jerky. “It’s the highway on Christmas Day. What’s going to happen? As long as you drive safely, nothing is going to happen to us.”
“No,” Zachary agreed. But he knew she was anxious no matter what she said about it. He couldn’t talk her out of it; he couldn’t make her feel better, and there was nothing he could do about it. Hopefully, the anxiety she was feeling because of the kidnapping a year before would fall away once they got to her mother’s house and Kenzie saw that everyone was okay.
“Do you want the radio on?” he suggested, hoping music might help.
“No.”
They drove some time in silence.
“If you want it on, you can put it on,” Kenzie told him.
“No, it’s okay.”
“It won’t bother me if you want it on.”
Zachary just shook his head. He could zone out with the highway driving, it didn’t make any difference to him whether the radio was on or not.
Kenzie reached over and turned it on. She scanned through the stations, finding channel after channel of Christmas music. She finally clicked it off again and looked out the window. Once more, she craned her head around to look behind them and watch the following cars.
It was a long, tense drive. Kenzie didn’t seem to mind Zachary driving a little faster than she would usually tolerate, so the trip took less time, but it felt like it took twice as long.
Eventually, they pulled off into the long driveway leading up to the house. Kenzie watched behind them for some time, but no one else turned onto the driveway. She turned around to face forward, and her eyes flicked around the courtyard beside the house for any cars that didn’t belong, but there was no one else parked there. Lisa’s and Walter’s vehicles were in the garage, out of sight, or else Walter wasn’t there yet.
Kenzie pasted a smile on her face but didn’t look at all happy and relaxed like she should be for a holiday dinner with her family. Zachary hurried around the car to her side to walk her to the door, as her parents would expect him to. He hit the button on his key fob to lock the doors and arm the car several times while they waited for Lisa to answer the door. Kenzie pushed his hand toward his pocket. He pressed it a couple more times while it was in his pocket, though he had to be careful not to hit the wrong button and either unlock the car again or hit the alarm button and irritate everyone with the horn honking. He tugged at his collar and cuffs, uncomfortable in the crisp shirt, tie, and suit.
The door opened. Kenzie’s mother nodded graciously to them and pulled the door open the rest of the way to invite them in.
“MacKenzie,” she greeted in her melodious voice, and bussed Kenzie’s cheeks, “Merry Christmas, my dear!”
Kenzie gave her shoulders a squeeze, but her head was swiveling around. “Merry Christmas, Mom. Is Dad here?”
“Yes, I told you he would be.”
Kenzie’s shoulders dipped in relief. She glanced over at Zachary, her look warning him to keep any comments about her anxiety to himself. Zachary smiled as reassuringly as he could, giving her a brief nod.
“And Zachary,” Lisa turned her attention to him, taking him by the hands first and then pulling him in for a quick hug and a whisper of a kiss across his cheeks. “I’m so glad that you are doing better this year. How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good. Very good for this time of year.”
“I’m so glad to hear it.”
Zachary bent down to scratch the ears of Lola, the dog that Lisa had saved from being put down in the name of science to further research the novel virus Kenzie had discovered had caused a number of deaths in the area.
“Hi, Lola,” he greeted, petting and scratching the dog, who lapped up the attention. “How are you doing? Are you enjoying the holidays too? Does Lola get turkey or any special treats for Christmas?”
“She’s always spoiled,” Lisa informed him with a repressed smile. “That doesn’t stop in the month of December.”
Zachary chuckled.
Lisa helped Kenzie off with her coat to reveal the blazer and form-fitting blue dress she was wearing. Lisa’s white cocktail gown sparkled under the lights. She handed Kenzie’s coat to a maid standing by discreetly. Zachary slid off his coat and handed it to her as well. He pulled in his stomach and straightened and settled the suit, hoping it would become more comfortable, but it still rubbed and chafed like it belonged to someone else.
They walked to the study, where Walter had been sitting by the fire. He stood up and gave Kenzie a hug and peck on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart. So glad you could come.” He turned to Zachary. “And you too, young man. You don’t know how pleased I am that you are feeling better this year. We didn’t dare hope that you would be able to come see us today. I’m really glad. For both of you.” He looked back at Kenzie.
“Thanks, Dad. Yes, I’m thrilled, too. It’s nice to have him home for Christmas. We had a nice Christmas Eve.” She looked at Zachary for his confirmation and, maybe, permission to share more about how he had done this year in contrast to previous years.
“It was better than I had even hoped,” Zachary contributed. “Not just being able to stay home, but to enjoy some time with Kenzie, too. Even though I have been able to be home other years… it’s never very pleasant. Lots of anxiety and… very dark thoughts.”
“Is it your meds then, your therapy, or something you did differently this year?” Lisa inquired.
Zachary was trying hard to help shake off the stigma of mental illness by discussing it openly, just as he might if he had a heart condition or a broken bone. He appreciated the effort that Lisa and Walter put into normalizing it. They all knew that it took effort and finesse, but society would never get to the point where it was natural to discuss mental health and illness if some of them didn’t push out of their comfort zones to address it.
“I would say it is mostly the meds,” Zachary said. “I haven’t felt this stable on a med protocol for a long time. Maybe ever. The side effects are not too bad, and it has helped to keep me on an even keel. This time of year is still hard… I am still fighting the depression and anxiety and being able to see beyond… the season.”
“And he’s been doing therapy, and our couple’s therapy, and he’s done better about taking anxiety pills or sleep aids when he needs them,” Kenzie contributed, making sure they knew that Zachary was working on it proactively as well. “He really does work hard to stay…” She shook her head, losing track of the word she wanted to use.
“Sane?” Zachary suggested with a laugh. Walter and Lisa laughed as well, and the conversation moved on. Walter acted as the barman, offering Zachary a Coke and the ladies their usual drinks.
