Out of Nowhere, page 16
What I wonder is: Has she become Calder Hudson’s sweetheart?
I suppose stranger things have happened.
But nothing stranger springs to mind right offhand.
It does concern me a bit that they had their heads together two days ago. Then the very next day, yesterday, each spoke privately with the lead detectives. Now, suddenly, after two months of nothing, there’s a breakthrough.
Of course, one incident may have nothing to do with the other. Still, it’s worth a worry. I haven’t reached this point by being careless. Knowledge is power, and knowing what’s up with them could be useful to me.
What I do know, because I saw it with my own two eyes, is that the goodbye hug they gave each other outside that bar didn’t look strictly platonic.
So, to be on the safe side, whether or not their secret partnership is romantic in nature, I probably should interrupt it. Permanently.
Now that Shauna Calloway has blabbed their names, the sheriff’s office will no doubt circle the wagons and make my interference more of a challenge than it would be otherwise.
Unfortunately for them, I love a challenge.
Chapter 20
The upstairs room of the house to which Calder had been transported by the taciturn deputies was butt ugly and overheated.
He’d spent the past five minutes in it with Compton and Perkins, explaining to them why he was no longer at the address to which they’d been about to send those deputies to collect him. They had been diverted to his temporary living quarters and had arrived within the specified fifteen minutes. Max.
He’d been ready. He’d showered and dressed quickly, then had had to sort through the contents of his suitcases and pack what he thought he might need into the smaller of the two.
The deputies had asked that he turn over his cell phone and laptop to them. “Why?”
“Protocol.”
They went a few rounds like that. All his arguments against “protocol” fell on deaf ears. His request to follow his escorts in his own car had been denied, as had his request to know their destination.
It turned out to be an old, large two-story house situated in the center of a heavily wooded and isolated property about ninety miles east of Dallas and two counties over from their department’s jurisdiction. Which they also refused to explain.
During the drive there, he’d pretended to doze in the back seat of the unmarked sedan and didn’t waste his breath asking more questions of or arguing with the laconic pair.
He had saved his protests for Compton and Perkins. Summing up his explanation for his recent change of address, he said, “Now you know. I broke up with Shauna and moved out of the condo we shared. I didn’t have the TV on this morning, so I didn’t know anything about her broadcast until you called and told me.”
As ever, Perkins’s reaction was that of a drowsy cat. He blinked once, slowly.
Compton was glaring at Calder as she repeatedly turned a pencil end over end on the dented metal desk that separated them. Click went the sharpened tip; thump went the eraser.
“Why didn’t you tell us about your breakup and relocation when we saw you yesterday?”
“Because my personal life isn’t any of your business.”
“The devil it isn’t,” she said. “It’s definitely our business to know if you spoke to Ms. Calloway following our meeting yesterday.”
“In fact, I did. She was waiting for me outside the precinct as I left.”
“So she knew you were there.”
He explained that Shauna had seen him when he’d arrived and had waited until he came out.
“What was she doing there?”
“She’d learned about the breakthrough, although she didn’t know what it entailed. At least she claimed not to.”
“How did she hear about this development?”
“She admitted to having a source inside the precinct.”
Even Perkins reacted with a start. Compton said, “Which department?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did she tell you who this individual—”
“No. And before she’d tell you, you’d have to cut out her tongue.”
Perkins surprised Calder by mumbling, “That could be arranged.”
Compton dropped the pencil she’d been toying with and linked her hands on the desktop. “Mr. Hudson, did you tell Ms. Calloway, or give her any hint, about what we discussed?”
“No.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
Compton again looked at Perkins, but Perkins was staring at Calder in that impassive way of his, which was beginning to grate. “I didn’t tell her a fucking thing,” he said with succinct emphasis.
“I wouldn’t have even if she had prodded me, but she didn’t, because I told her straight off that I couldn’t talk about what was said in that meeting. I don’t know where she got her information, but it wasn’t from me. Now, that’s the last declaration of innocence you’re going to get from me. If you want to grill me on this further, I’m calling my lawyer.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.
Perkins was the next to speak. “Who broke up with whom?”
“It was my doing.”
“How did she take it? Was your parting amicable?”
“We didn’t shake hands and wish each other well, no.”
“Hostile, then.”
“You could say. Her parting words were ‘go fuck yourself.’”
After another taut silence, Compton said, “Calder, is it possible that she leaked this story in retribution for your breakup?”
Maybe Compton only wanted to defuse his anger, but he was surprised that she had addressed him by his first name, and in such a soft and confidential tone.
Her question, however, came as no surprise at all. It had occurred to him that Shauna had pulled this stunt in retaliation for his attraction to Elle. But he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge, even to himself, that she would do something so vindictive and harmful, and not only to him. She’d put the lives of people who weren’t even involved into jeopardy.
It was a disturbing thought, but he kept it to himself and avoided giving the detectives a direct answer to the question. “I can’t comment on Shauna’s story because I haven’t even seen it. What exactly did she report?”
“That we’d conducted closed-door meetings with five witnesses to the shooting. That’s it in a nutshell. But she editorialized, saying that you five were obviously key to the investigation and that you had been recalled by us for a specific reason. She also identified each of you by name.”
He dragged his hand over his face. “And one of us has already received a death threat?”
“Dawn Whitley. You met her outside our office at the precinct.”
“The lady who’d given Shauna an interview and was so enamored of her.”
“The irony of that hasn’t escaped us.”
“Will there be blowback on Shauna?”
Compton gave a bitter laugh. “If we issue any kind of official reprimand or bring her in for questioning, she’ll raise a hue and cry about First Amendment rights. Her colleagues will be envious of her for getting the story, but they’ll also rally in her defense. Meanwhile, the culprit is laughing up his sleeve, and we’re left with five lives to safeguard.”
Calder looked down at his suitcase standing beside his chair. “Safeguard for how long?”
Before Compton could respond, the telephone on the desk rang. Perkins punched a blinking button, and a male voice came through the speaker. “The other two are here.”
Perkins thanked the voice, clicked off, and moved toward the door. He said to Compton, “Give me five minutes; then we’ll explain it to them as a group. You may want to use this time to…” He hitched his chin toward Calder.
“Yes, I will.”
Perkins went out and closed the door behind himself.
“What was that about?” Calder asked. “Use this time to what?”
“To speak to you alone.”
“About what?”
Shauna might have ratted out Elle and him, although he didn’t see how anything personal between them would affect the investigation. And would Shauna own up to losing her man to another woman? Unlikely.
Whatever this was about, Compton was in dread of it. She left her chair and walked over to an antique water cooler. “Want some?”
“No thanks.”
She filled a plastic cup from the belching machine and brought it back to the desk. After she had sat down and taken a drink, she asked, “Have you returned to work yet?”
He forced himself to hold her incisive gaze. “Not yet. When I finish PT.”
“Hmm. Your last client was a company called JZI for short, wasn’t it?”
He waited a beat and then gave a dry huff. “You’re not really asking for verification, are you?”
“No.” She settled more heavily into her seat. “You should’ve told us in the beginning what you do. Your vagueness only made us more curious about the nature of your corporate consulting. Digging into your career history turned out to be quite an adventure. We ran into roadblock after roadblock. Why? Because your clients are bound by a nondisclosure clause.”
“For reasons I’m sure you understand.”
“Yes, I do. The specialized consulting you do could generate hard feelings, deep-seated resentment, and, if someone took it to the limit, reprisal.”
Made uneasy by that observation, Calder said, “What are you getting at?”
“Do you have any enemies?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Modesty doesn’t suit you. Mr. Hudson. Considering your success, isn’t it more probable that the number of people holding grudges against you is in the hundreds? Perkins and I think so. Consequently, we believe your business records of the last few years warrant a thorough review.”
He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “We anticipated your reluctance to share, Mr. Hudson, so…” She took an official-looking document from her briefcase and held it up. “We got a court order that allows us to review the files on your laptop.”
It wasn’t lost on him that he was back to being Mr. Hudson.
Chapter 21
Since this morning’s broadcast, Shauna had been fielding calls one right after the other. Therefore, she didn’t first check the ID before answering the incoming call by pressing the button on her steering wheel.
“Shauna Calloway.”
“You threw me under the bus.”
It was her sleazy source, Billy Green. “I did no such thing, and I won’t.”
“No, but you’ve created a shit show in this precinct, in the whole damn department. If anybody finds out that I’m the one who fed you that information—”
“They won’t find out unless you panic, behave like a moron, and give yourself away.”
“Yesterday, there was a handful of personnel from other agencies working with Compton and Perkins,” he said rapidly and furtively. “All part of the task force investigating the shooting along with our CID. Now the place is crawling—crawling, I’m telling you—with DPS troopers, Texas Rangers, you name it. The attorney general’s office was on the phone with the sheriff, who’s gone apeshit, on the verge of a stroke, someone said, and—”
“Calm. Down.” She could imagine him sputtering, spraying spit, wiping the greasy sweat off his high forehead.
“Calm down, she says.” Lowering his voice to a creaky whisper, he said, “The whole goddamn department is on edge. Everybody’s suspecting everybody. All because of you.”
“No, all because of you wanting to get up my skirt. Right? There wouldn’t have been a story causing the havoc you describe if you hadn’t given me those names yesterday.”
He admitted no complicity. “You did yourself no favors, you know.”
“I bagged the big story. That’s my job.”
“Yeah, but now your Mr. Jaguar with the full head of hair has a bull’s-eye between his broad shoulders. Did you think of that?”
“He’ll be protected. All of them will be.”
“Says you.”
“What do you say?” She laid the trap subtly, betting that he would step into it, and he did.
“They were rounded up. Lickety-split.”
She deliberately downplayed that. “Naturally they would be. That’s hardly a headliner.” She waited, listening to him breathe while he weighed his options and considered whether impressing her was worth taking another risk.
Finally, he said, “They’ve moved them somewhere. Your dickhead boyfriend, the lady whose kid died, and the woman you interviewed in the hospital.”
“What about the other two?”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on.”
“Swear. All I’ve heard is that those three have been relocated to a safe house.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Swear to God.”
“I don’t believe in God,” she said, “and I seriously doubt that you do.”
“Someplace out of the county. That’s all I know, and that’s the truth.”
“Can you find out where?”
“Haven’t you been listening? I would bet my left nut that there are appointed spies in this building trying to sniff out the snitch.”
“You’re being paranoid, Billy.”
“Uh-huh. This is different. This isn’t like the time you asked me to get the exact amount of money a CEO took from the corporate kitty to pay his call girls for blow jobs.
“This shooting investigation wasn’t going gangbusters anyway, but you really fucked it up. Somebody hung a channel seven poster in the lobby and put a dart through the picture of you, right between your eyes. Everybody who works for this department would like to strangle you.”
“Not everybody.” She inserted a strategic pause, then said, “Look, if you’re this scared of being found out, let’s shut down. I’ll find a replacement. There are plenty who’ve vied for the opportunity.”
“Who?”
“You know I can’t say. I never reveal a source. Which I’ve proven to you today. Correct me if I’m wrong.” Another well-placed pause. “See? I could have turned on you to prevent darts being thrown at my picture, but I didn’t. Now hang up and act normally, and you’ll remain anonymous.”
“I stay your guy, right?”
“You stay my guy. You get a gold star if you find out the location of that safe house.”
“I can’t, Shauna. Not today. Jesus. I’d be cutting my own throat to even try.”
She didn’t say anything.
After a time, he said, “It won’t be easy, but I’ll try.”
“Which is why you’re my guy.”
“No promises. I’ll try. But if I come through, two beers, a skirt, no panties.”
She hung up on him. He was disgusting, and the fool probably would give himself away.
No great loss. Telling him that he could be replaced hadn’t been a bluff. There were plenty of starstruck cops longing to get up her skirt.
Elle was a little carsick from having ridden in the back seat, and her head was reeling from all that had happened in such a brief period of time, beginning with Glenda’s ill-timed visit, then Compton’s stunning call, culminating in leaving her home, towing a roll-aboard that Glenda had packed for her while she’d showered and dressed.
In looks and passivity, the two deputies serving as her escorts were interchangeable. They’d given her their names and showed her their badges, but she’d been so shaken by the turn of events, she hadn’t distinguished one from the other.
When they confiscated her cell phone, they’d been subjected to Glenda’s diatribe about their fascist tactics. “How are we supposed to communicate?” she’d demanded.
One of them had said, “You’re not.”
From her house in Fort Worth, it had been almost a two-hour drive to the rambling structure they were now approaching on a bumpy gravel road that cut through dense woods. Beyond asking if the car temperature was comfortable for her and telling her to let them know if she needed a restroom stop, the two in the front seats had said little during the entire trip.
Now, as the serviceable sedan rolled to a stop, the deputy on the passenger side said, “Here we are,” and alighted to open the back seat door for her. He carried her roll-aboard up the front steps of the house.
The door was opened by a burly man who introduced himself as Deputy Weeks and his older, more weathered partner as Deputy Sims. They wore uniforms and badges that designated them as deputies of the sheriff’s office in a county east of Dallas.
The one who’d delivered her wished her good luck and returned to the car. He and his partner drove away.
Sims asked if she needed anything.
“Water, please.”
He ambled off to get it for her. Weeks said, “They’re not quite ready for you. You can wait in here. Detective Compton said to remind you not to talk to each other about the case.”
The room into which he led her was a spacious living room, furnished with what appeared to be pieces picked at random from thrift stores. No regard had been given to aesthetics.
The only person in the room was Dawn Whitley, who was sitting on a chintz sofa, nervously rocking back and forth against the back cushions, her eyes skittish. When Elle walked in, the other woman looked at her as though she represented rescue.
“Ms. Portman,” she cried out softly.
She was a regular at the group therapy sessions. Everyone had applauded when she arrived without her crutches for the first time. Now, as she left the couch, Elle noticed that she still walked with a slight limp.
She clasped Elle’s hand, squeezing between their palms a tissue she had twisted into a damp wad. “I’m glad to see somebody I recognize. I’m so scared.”
Elle gently turned her toward the couch and walked her back to it. They sat down side by side. “Are you all right?”
