Pride, p.5
Pride, page 5
“Who? Maybe I can stay out of your way if I know who you’re targeting.”
“No. I am not going to tell you that.”
Why didn’t he just spit out his orders and let me get on with my day? Because I wasn’t going to back off.
“Then, what will you tell me?”
He leaned back and looked at me with the angry face on. Then he grinned. “You’re right. The best thing for everyone is if you back off. The guy we’re targeting is harming a lot of people, and if he gets away…”
“I’m not arguing against catching the bad guys,” I said. “My client has nothing to do with it as far as I can see. I don’t want her becoming collateral damage.”
“I checked on you.”
“You did what? Am I being watched?”
He waved his hand to dismiss my worries. Did he think that would work? “No. Just asking around to find out what I can expect if we try to stop you.”
I couldn’t say anything. He was right. It was reasonable to check out the person you were going to battle. Because that’s exactly what it felt like. “And?”
“They said you wouldn’t stop. But they also said you were unlikely to outright lie. That you were very good at finding the truth, and that you were stubborn enough to run headlong into trouble but smart enough to ask for help — sometimes not at the last minute, too.”
He must have talked to a lot of people. Mostly things I was proud of, and none of it wrong.
“Okay, so you know you can’t shut me down. Why are we meeting?” Now I wished I’d ordered bacon and eggs. My idea of a quick fight and then storming out was blown.
“A couple of things. You need to know that whenever you are interacting with Alan Blackhouse, there’s a good chance you are being recorded.”
“So, you know about the adoption?”
“Not from you. We don’t have a bug in the office. We already knew from a different source. Another team is looking into it.”
“Glenda doesn’t know. Do I need to warn her that someone’s going to take her child away?”
He looked at me over his mug and then shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. If the kid is in a good home, no one is going to take her. Is she? In a good place?”
“You tell me. All I have with Alan is the adoption and a good feeling he’s shady.”
“And the wife?”
“She is the one with the suspicions. Nora is fine with her. Don’t you have the house bugged?”
He hesitated. Deciding if he should tell me?
“We don’t have a warrant for the house. Just his cell,” he admitted. “But the cell is always listening unless he knows to turn that off.”
A pretty narrow warrant. “And does he?”
“Not always.” Miller smiled. “So, can we trust you to be careful?”
“As much as I can,” I said. “I still need to find out what he’s up to. Unless you want to tell me and then I can end my case.”
“Nice try. Look, we think it’s money laundering, but so far, we can’t find proof. If you can get him to talk about that where we can hear, I’d be grateful. I don’t think you’ll have any more success than us. But you don’t need solid proof. You just need your client satisfied.”
That was true, but knowing that the RCMP would be listening made it easier for me to take risks. And if they found their proof, I wanted them to share. “Maybe we can work together?”
That made him laugh out loud. “I doubt it, but keep asking.”
I wasn’t getting anything else from Andy, so I thanked him for the coffee and headed out.
13
Knowing about the adoption and the probable link to some crime boss made me anxious about Glenda. Yes, I keep telling people, even myself, that she’s innocent, but all I had was a gut feeling based on a meeting, a phone call, and the ability to discount her behavior when Val went missing. And the authorities agreed, as far as I knew. None of the actual cops could tie her to the gang. Or, maybe, they were keeping that bit of information from me.
When I called, she’d said to meet her at home for lunch. Alan would be gone until later and it was safe to talk.
If he dropped in, my cover was the same. I never promised that I wouldn’t speak to Glenda, after all. So now I stood on the sidewalk thinking through how to ask my questions. If she was innocent, I didn’t want to get her involved in something big enough for the RCMP to investigate, and if she was part of the problem, I needed to leave the house fast and call Andy.
The sun filtered through the leaves of the old trees; wind sent a whisper through the branches. All peaceful and sleepy. It made me suspect that the world behind these heritage doors was more real and hard than the outside showed.
I marched up the stairs and before I knocked, Glenda pulled open the door and ushered me inside. She took a peek at the neighbor’s house before closing the world out.
“The street was empty,” I said.
I meant it to reassure her, but it did the opposite to me. I cursed Andy and David for winding me up so tight I worried that I needed witnesses to me entering the premises. They were both responsible for me second guessing Glenda.
“Coffee?” Glenda asked over her shoulder as she led me to the kitchen. “I can make you a sandwich and you can join Nora for lunch.”
“It’s probably better if I don’t interact a lot with Nora. We don’t want her telling daddy about the lady who visits her.”
“She doesn’t talk to Alan that much. She’s usually in bed before he gets home,” Glenda said. “They eat breakfast together, but she’s more interested in talking to him about her imaginary friends.”
Was Alan avoiding his daughter now she’d been paid for?
“Let’s hope he’ll think I’m one of them if she does mention me.” I settled on a stool at the kitchen counter and pulled out my notebook. Nora was in her corner at her own kid-sized table, poking at a bowl of baby carrots and chewing on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She looked up at me and smiled, teeth covered in peanut butter, white bread, and purple jelly mush. Delightful. I gave her a smile and finger wave and then turned my attention back to her mother.
“I found a few leads,” I said as soon as Glenda stopped fussing with the coffee. “I don’t have anything solid for you. Can you give me some more details about why you think he’s doing something behind your back?”
Glenda sipped her coffee as she thought. I hoped she was thinking of a way to help me and not a way to lie to me.
Nora started singing something repetitive about a shark. Hummingbirds flitted past the kitchen window to a feeder. I expected some animated bluebirds to come tweet around our heads.
“This is more than just the usual. I mean the usual you see in fiction or on TV. Yes, he works long hours. I can’t always get him on the phone. I wonder if he’s taken a shower before coming home for some reason.”
“The more?” She was right, none of those things guaranteed a problem at all, and only adultery if anything. No hint of serious criminal activity.
“He has his own accounts,” she said. “When we got married, he said we should open joint ones for expenses and savings but keep our own ones for spending. He said we can buy surprise presents that way.”
“That’s pretty normal.”
“I know. When I worked, I kept my income as spending money, but then Alan convinced me that I didn’t need to keep my job and I quit. I was a marketing specialist, and it didn’t take much convincing. After that, the funds from the business flowed into the joint account and then our separate spending came out. Now he transfers money to the joint one from his. I still get my spending money, and I don’t need to scrimp, but I have no idea how much he’s keeping back.”
I made a note. She was right. It sounded exactly like a way to protect money prior to a divorce or to hide a lot of extra income, or gambling debts, or a drug problem. Or the price of an adopted child. Too many things it could be. I needed to look at his finances to try to pin down what it actually was. “Did you ever ask him about the change?”
She glanced at Nora, who was using her crayons. “No.” Then she turned to me. “Look. He’s never hit me or Nora. I wouldn’t put up with that. But I’ve seen his temper turned on other people. Some questions are not worth the risk.”
A way to explain her complete lack of knowledge of his crimes. “You think this is about more than just hiding money, right?”
“He isn’t planning on divorcing me,” she said. “I would know.”
She sounded certain, but there were plenty of ex-wives who’d thought the same thing. “Do you have the paperwork around the adoption?” His finances should be there, but with a shady operation, who knew what diligence they did.
“They are in a safe deposit box. I can scan them and send you a copy. But not today.”
“As soon as you can,” I said. I had other ways of getting the information, but it would be enlightening to see what Viktor thought constituted good business practice. “I’m going to start following Alan around. He knows who I am, but I’ll be discreet. If he asks about me, I need you to do two things. First, say I did come to ask about the adoption agency, and you sent me away.”
“Your cover when you met him? Yes. I can do that.”
“And I need to hear about it as soon as it’s safe to tell me. If he has a temper, I need a heads up that he’s caught me.”
“Yes. I promise.”
I headed back out not convinced that she’d told me everything, but much less paranoid about being played.
14
I had enough experience to know that the worst thing I could do was run off chasing Alan around without any intelligence to follow. So, setting up searches and analyzing the information I got was the extent of my afternoon’s work. Boring, but at least snacks were within reach, and the opportunity to sit on the rooftop patio to be distracted by the sails of the boats around me. I also had a view of the other floating homes in my neighborhood. Most people were at their jobs, and only five of us have houses here, so there was rarely anyone to chat with during the day.
By evening, I was tired but had a couple ideas of where to find Alan. Not only in the day when, if he was smart, all I’d find was him giving financial advice. No matter how shady his clients were, that wouldn’t move me closer to closing the case.
What did I have that might satisfy my client? A list of places where he hung out at night. Not usually tonight, but tomorrow night, a good chance of finding him at a suspect bar out in Burnaby. Sila; the best place to meet dangerous and rich Russians.
I packed up my laptop, glass and plate to take them into the kitchen. One more glance around the neighborhood and I saw David strolling down the finger dock. Was I forgiven? Or was he coming to pass on some order from Andy Miller? My guess was the second.
I opened the door just as he arrived. “Hey, should I call for pizza?” Of course I had no groceries to make dinner. David would be aware of that.
“Let’s go out,” he said. But not like a date night event. Like he figured I would behave like a rational human being in public kind of thing.
It wasn’t worth trying to get him to stay. And I told myself I’d be a good girlfriend and listen to him. I wouldn’t yell with witnesses around. And if we had a fight, I could grab a cab. “Where? Do I need to change?”
“You look fine,” he said. “Nothing fancy. Maybe somewhere in Gastown?”
The restaurants in the neighborhood ran from a small sushi stand all the way up to five star, depending on where you chose to start in Gastown.
We took his car, which I interpreted as an indication he was still miffed — well, that and the silence. Otherwise, we would have walked and enjoyed the evening.
He parked in a lot and when we were standing on the sidewalk, I asked, “How bad is this going to be? I mean, is it The Old Spaghetti Factory bad, or should we just head over to Pourhouse?”
“You mean how well behaved do I expect us to be? We don’t need to worry about that. How about Nuba?”
“Can’t go wrong with Italian,” I said.
We were seated and waiting for our wine before I pressed him. “So, am I forgiven?”
“Charity, I’m still annoyed with you. But I think it’s going to be kind of normal for us in this relationship. I know you didn’t give up on the case. I know you aren’t working with Miller. I think you’re getting in over your head.”
Wine for me, a Coke for David, and a basket of focaccia with a dipping plate made it to the table before I asked anything more. I relaxed a little because now I could stall by eating and drinking. It gave me something to do other than reacting badly to whatever he said. With that thought, I sat back. Why did I assume I was going to react like a kid in a tantrum? I had no answer, so I pushed the thought to the corner of my mind where I put everything I didn’t want to deal with — like everyone does.
“Miller won’t let me investigate. He’ll expect me to do only what he tells me, and if the situation gets tricky, I’ll be sidelined.”
He didn’t respond so I filled the silence, even though I knew I should stop talking and wait him out.
“There’s definitely something going on that might hurt my client.” I picked up a chunk of bread, dipped it in the oil and vinegar and stuffed my mouth to prevent me from continuing.
David looked at his soda, turning the glass in his fingers. Then he looked back at me. He was serious, but not angry; he couldn’t hide anger on his pale skin. “I’m annoyed at myself more than at you. I should never have thought you’d back off and stay safe. I was wrong to expect you to.”
This time I kept quiet.
“Knowing you are capable of dealing with your cases and acting against all my cop instincts to protect people, is a battle. What did you learn from Mrs. Blackhouse today?”
I chewed another clump of bread to damp down the flare of anger. I needed to get help on handling my feelings with something other than food before I gained a ton of weight. When I finished, I asked calmly, “How did you know I met with her?”
He laughed, which was both annoying and a relief. My pause had worked.
“The RCMP are watching the house. Easier to get a warrant for that. Saw you go in, and about three minutes after you left, Alan came home.”
I almost choked on my wine. “Glenda said he would be out until dinner. Did he see me?”
Our food arrived before David answered. The waiter offered cheese and pepper and then withdrew.
My gnocchi smelled delicious, David’s Osso Buco gleamed with richness.
“He wouldn’t have. You left before he drove up. They’ll text me if he leaves.”
My appetite came back with the assurance. “He isn’t usually home in the day. Glenda told me we would be fine. I did have a cover story though.”
“And if you worked with Miller, you wouldn’t have to risk it. They could warn you.”
The gnocchi was as tasty as the aroma promised. I put a spoonful on David’s plate, and he gave me a bite of his meal. I preferred mine. “I guess that ship sailed.”
David concentrated on his food, but I saw a smile emerge. Damn him, I’d been handled. Oddly, it didn’t make me want to lash out.
“He’ll meet with you tomorrow.”
“Jerk,” I said with a laugh. “Can you join us, at least to start?”
He agreed and we settled in for our meal.
When we headed back to the car, we walked arm in arm. “Are you staying over?”
He gave me a squeeze. “Yes.”
15
Back at the same White Spot and the same table in the back. This time I ordered breakfast in the hope we’d have a conversation, not a battle.
We talked about small daily stuff until our food arrived, Andy had two kids and a wife. His mother sat on the council in Haida Gwaii. Interesting, and whether he planned it or not, the details made him a person instead of a uniform.
“So, what am I doing here?” I asked. “Are you going to tell me to back off again? Didn’t work last time, so what’s new?”
Andy smiled but David tensed. He was expecting something like that to happen. I guess he didn’t trust the RCMP completely either.
“I did some more research on you,” Andy said. He buttered his muffin and didn’t look up. “You must be very good, or very, very lucky.”
I had nothing to add, mainly because I feared it was the second and that luck could run out with no notice.
“You also won’t back off,” he added. “Why aren’t you some kind of cop?”
David snorted a laugh at that. I jabbed him in the arm.
“I don’t like rules. The last time I worked closely with the authorities, I felt like I kept running into walls. And everyone expected me to rebel but wouldn’t let me have any scope to do my job.”
“And you did rebel, right?” He gave me some time to answer, but I just stuffed a forkful of potatoes in my mouth. He smiled. “Look, I think we should work together. You get results and you don’t break any serious rules.”
Perhaps I hadn’t found one yet.
“What do you mean work with you?” David asked. “Charity is quite capable of solving her own cases.”
Wow, he was really surprised at the offer.
“I think he means just my case,” I said. “Yeah, I can provide Glenda what she needs. In fact, I can do that in the next day or so.”
“Are you going to use her as bait?” David asked him. “It’s too dangerous.”
I looked at David trying to figure out what was going on. “Last night you wanted me to work with them.”
“On your case, maybe a little intelligence on Blackhouse,” David said. “It helps you and them. The big one, no. Crime like that is their business. You aren’t trained.”
Weird. When I thought he was protecting me in the past, I couldn’t stop the angry response. And then he actually wasn’t doing it. Now? He definitely was and I wanted to hug him. Love is confusing. I leaned in and kissed his cheek, leaving a little grease mark.
