The Lady Who Cried Murder (A Mac Faraday Mystery) Page 5

  After everyone’s plates were made, Ben Fleming took the lead in the meeting. “As you know, close to a month ago, Florence Everest passed away, which started a whole mess with Khloe coming back to town and expecting to collect an inheritance, only to discover that her mother had been serious when she said she was disinherited.”

  “Knowing Khloe,” Ed said, “she thought that since she was an only child she would get it all no matter what. Big surprise when her mother left it all to charity to help women victims of violent crime.”

  “Which Khloe then became,” Mac noted the irony.

  “Khloe managed to find an attorney to file a suit against Florence’s estate and fight the will,” Ed said. “No way was she going to win that. In the meantime, she took up residence in the house and refused to leave.”

  David urged them to continue. “What information do you have that can help us find her killer?”

  Ben looked across the table at Ed. The lawyer got up and closed David’s office door. On his way back to the conference table, he took a micro cassette recorder out of his pocket, turned on a button, and placed the recorder in the middle of the table.

  A woman’s voice came from the speaker with the smooth, cultured tone that had belonged to Florence Everest.

  “I said no!”

  Slap!

  “Oh, I forgot how you like it rough,” a male voice said. “If you want it like the last time—”

  “Last time was not rough! Last time was an attack. I said no—”

  “Of course you said no. They all say no, but they don’t mean no.”

  “You pinned my hands down and you raped me!”

  “You call it rape, I call it playing rough.”

  There was a sound of movement followed by the man yelling, “What the hell is that?”

  “Don’t you recognize it?” the woman’s voice replied with laughter. “It’s called a gun! You come near me again and I’ll shoot your balls off before shooting you dead.”

  “You shoot me and you’ll spend the rest of your life in jail—in a federal prison. Shooting a sheriff is a federal offense.”

  “But you’ll be dead, and this tape will be on the national news!”

  “Damn, bitch! You set me up!”

  “Damn straight!” she said. “And you’re going to live with what you’ve done for the rest of your life because I’m pregnant now and you’re going to pay for it. Oh, and don’t even think about doing anything to me because copies of this tape will be all over—anything happens to me, and the whole world is going to know that Sheriff Harry Palazzi is a low-life, common rapist!”

  “Oh, man,” Mac muttered.

  Ed snapped the tape off. “Oh man is right.”

  “She said copies of that tape were all over. Obviously you had one.” David noticed Mac glaring at the recorder like he wanted to shoot it.

  “It was in a sealed envelope that was only to be opened upon her death,” Ed said. “She gave it to me when she came to me pregnant with Khloe. All these years, Florence has been getting a direct deposit of ten thousand dollars into her account every month. I assumed it was from Khloe’s father, who wanted no emotional part of her.”

  “And here she was, the product of rape,” Chelsea said.

  “Did Khloe know?” David asked.

  “No,” Ed said with certainty. “When I encountered this tape I took it to Ben, and we’ve been trying to decide what to do.”

  “The man is a rapist.” Mac grabbed the recorder and shook it. “He’s a sexual predator who has been raping women for years and getting away with it. Don’t you think it’s time to stop him?”

  “This victim is dead,” Ben said.

  “She’s not the first rape victim that Senator Palazzi got rid of,” Mac said.

  “Mac,” David said gently, “Florence’s death was an accident. Pure and simple. It was investigated. What other victims has Palazzi gotten rid of?”

  Mac felt all of their eyes on him. “It was back when I was working the special victims unit in Washington, before I went to homicide.” He gritted his teeth. “One night, I got called to the hospital where this woman had been dumped at the ER. Her name was Dee Blakeley. She had been beaten up and raped. When I finally got her to speak to me, she told me that she was a lobbyist who had gone to meet with Senator Harry Palazzi to talk about an upcoming bill. He poured Dee a drink. They sat in his office to talk about the bill, and suddenly, he raped her. When she fought him, he beat her up. Then, his assistant and driver arrived to take her home. When she passed out in the back of the limo, they literally dumped her at the ER and drove off.”

  “Why didn’t you arrest him?” Chelsea asked.

  Mac shook his head. “His people circled the wagons. The assistant and driver who knew the truth insisted that she was drunk when she showed up for the meeting and they saw her put the moves on the senator, who swore it was consensual and she was lying about the rape for her own personal gain. They all claimed afterwards, when she was leaving the senator’s office, that she had tripped and fallen and hit her face on the desk. Because she was so drunk, they refused to let her drive. When they discovered that she was bleeding from the fall, they dropped her off at the hospital. The victim told me that her cat disappeared and she had received a visit from an intimidating man saying that the same would happen to her. She wanted to withdraw her complaint and said she wouldn’t testify, but I talked her into doing it. The morning that she was to appear at the grand jury, I went to her apartment to pick her up and…” His voice trailed off.

  The room fell silent.

  Ben broke the silence. “What?”

  “She was dead,” Mac said in a voice barely above a whisper. He looked across the table at David. “Stabbed to death—multiple stab wounds.”

  “Like Khloe,” David said.

  “She wasn’t dismembered, and her body hadn’t been mutilated, but that was about twelve years ago. Killers usually escalate. He may have just been getting started back then.”

  “Did you have any proof that Palazzi was behind it?” the prosecutor asked.

  “Come on, Ben,” Mac said. “It was the night before she was to testify to the grand jury about him raping her. That night, of all nights, a maniac breaks into her apartment and stabs her to death?”

  “Was she raped during that attack?” David asked.

  “No,” Mac said. “No sexual assault.”

  “Since Palazzi has never been charged—” Ben started to say.

  “Yes, he got away with having Dee Blakeley killed,” Mac said. “I tried to make a case, but my boss put pressure on me because he got orders from people above him to let it go. I know the senator had that girl killed.”

  “Leak the tape to the media,” Chelsea said. “Even if he can’t be arrested, his reputation can be ruined. He claims to be a proponent for women’s rights, and here he’s a sexual predator.”

  “Khloe’s announcement,” Mac said. “Florence said these tapes were going to be all over. Khloe could have found a copy of the tape and decided to play it during the interview.”

  “Knowing Khloe,” the estate attorney said, “I would not put it past her trying to blackmail Palazzi. She had nothing. Her bid for fame fizzled. She thought she was going to inherit a fortune from her mother and had gotten cut out. As a matter of fact, after that stunt, the mysterious monthly payment stopped coming. I asked Florence about it—knowing nothing about it being from Palazzi or this recording. Florence said that the benefactor had paid in full and nothing was coming in from him anymore.”

  “Florence was so mad that she cut Khloe loose completely,” David said.

  Ed nodded his head. “And Khloe was furious when she found out it was real.”

  “So she decided to squat in the house and search for something that she could use to her advantage and found the tape,” Mac said. “Then, she tried to blackmail Palazzi. She was doing a countdown on the social media sites. She was giving him time to squirm and think about it. Only instead, he had her
killed.”

  “Nah,” David said. “The M.O. for the murder doesn’t fit.”

  “Unless the contract killer purposely made it look like a crazed serial killer,” Mac suggested. “I’ve run into that. A contract hit that was made to look like the victim had run into a maniac. Only in this case, we have DNA that matches two other murders.”

  “Then maybe it wasn’t Palazzi,” Ben said.

  “Don’t tell me that you’re friends with Palazzi,” Mac said.

  “I never said I was friends with the man,” Ben said. “Nor am I surprised by this. I learned a long time ago that the apparent character of a person, especially someone who is a public figure, is nothing like what it is behind closed doors.”

  “Does Palazzi know you have this tape?” Mac asked him.

  “He has to know someone has it,” Ed answered. “He did invite me for drinks soon after Florence’s death. He knows I’m her lawyer. I could tell he was feeling me out and trying to determine if we had anything on him. I gave him nothing. He’s nervous.”

  “Are you going to move to prosecute?” David asked Ben.

  “We don’t know any of the particulars,” Ben said. “The victim is dead—not killed by the suspect.”

  “So you decided not to move forward,” Mac said. “Palazzi got away with it again.”

  “It’s a very weak case, Mac,” Ben said. “If Florence was still alive, we’d have a chance.”

  “Not only is there the matter of the rape,” Ed said, “but I can also see Khloe deciding to make a claim as Senator Palazzi’s daughter.”

  “That would make Bevis’ day,” Ben said in a tone heavy with sarcasm. He even chuckled at the thought.

  “Which makes Bevis a suspect,” David said. “Now that makes my day.”

  “Unless Khloe didn’t find the recording,” Mac said. “We need to dive heavy into what she has been doing since getting to Spencer and moving into that house.”

  This case is going all over the place.

  Mac made himself at home at David’s laptop while he walked Chelsea out to Ben’s car after lunch. The man never gives up … as well he shouldn’t.

  Meanwhile, Mac was logging into the police database to bring up what information he could on Amber Houston’s murder. Her body had been found in a small rural town outside Pittsburgh. The case was being handled by the Pennsylvania state police.

  Tonya buzzed the intercom into the police chief’s office. “Hey, Mac, Bevis Palazzi is on the phone for the chief. He wants to talk about Khloe Everest’s murder, and he wants to talk to someone in charge. I could make him sit on hold until the chief comes back in, or would—?”

  “I’ll talk to him.” He grabbed the phone. “Mac Faraday here.”

  “I want to talk to your so-called police chief.”

  “You got me.”

  “That’s unacceptable,” Bevis Palazzi said before launching into a tirade. “I specifically told that bitch that I wanted to talk to the chief of police about the status of locating Khloe Everest’s killer. She was a very good friend of mine, I might add. I specifically told that idiot—”

  “That lady is a sergeant with the police, and she can beat the snot out of your fat little nose.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “It’s not a threat,” Mac replied, “It’s a statement. Sergeant Tonya is an experienced police officer who deserves to be treated, and spoken about, with respect.”

  “Whatever!” he uttered a loud scoff. “She’s still a bitch.”

  “You have three seconds to ask your question before I hang up,” Mac said, “because while I’m here on this phone listening to your foul mouth, I could be tracking down a killer.”

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “Yes, I know exactly what you are,” Mac said. “You’re a spoiled brat who needs to grow up and learn some manners. Call me when we can have a civilized, grown-up conversation.” Hanging up the phone, he resumed studying the information listed under Amber Houston’s murder.

  The name of the lead investigator caught his eye: Pennsylvania State Homicide Detective Cameron Gates.

  I know her.

  The phone rang again.

  “I’ll get that,” David announced while hurrying into the office. Pointing a finger of accusation at him, he said, “You’ve been a bad boy.” He snatched up the phone. “Police Chief David O’Callaghan here.” He grimaced while listening to Bevis’ outrage, which Mac could hear all the way over on his side of the desk. “If you would calm down, Mr. Palazzi, we could discuss this rationally like two adults.”

  “You need one more adult to make that happen,” Mac said.

  “Well,” David said, “if you want to know what I think about your involvement in this case,—” Without another word, he slammed the phone down on the base.

  His eyes wide, Mac chuckled. “What did you just do?”

  “We got cut off,” David said. “That’s how you hang up on someone. What are we going to do about him?”

  “He’s a suspect,” Mac said. “We have legitimate cause to keep him and his father out of the investigation.” He pointed at the laptop screen. “You’ll never guess who the lead investigator is in the Amber Houston murder. Detective Cameron Gates.”

  “You mean that detective with the cat? What was his name?”

  “Irving,” Mac said, “but, if he likes you, you can call him ‘Irv.’”

  “Big devil that looks like a skunk,” David recalled. “She takes him everywhere.”

  “Because he has issues,” Mac said.

  The intercom buzzed again. “Chief, now it’s the governor.”

  “I’ll take it.” Mac picked up the phone.

  Relieved, David gathered up his laptop and turned on his heels. “I’ll go call Irving’s mother.”

  Downstairs, David took his laptop to a vacant desk in a corner of the squad room. After looking up Cameron Gates’ number on the police report, he placed the call to her office in Pennsylvania.

  “Hello, Police Chief David O’Callaghan,” she greeted him with her low sexy voice.

  “How’s Irving?” David asked with an equally husky tone.

  “Still has issues,” she said. “How’s Gnarly?”

  “Still a kleptomaniac.”

  “How about his uncle?” she asked.

  “Uncle?” David laughed. “You better not call me his uncle in front of Mac. He swears he did not sire that dog.”

  “Josh is the same way about Irving.”

  “Speaking of Josh,” David asked, “how is he?”

  “My silver fox,” she said. “He’s better than fine. He’s downright fantastic. He’s prosecuting a case right now against a young man who tried to hold up a bar with an automatic handgun shortly before they closed. Unfortunately for the guy, he walked into a retirement party for a sheriff’s deputy and pulled his gun out while standing in the middle of a bar filled with cops. Josh has like twenty police officers for eyewitnesses.”

  “I wish they could all be that simple.”

  “So do I, sweetheart.”

  The two of them shared a good laugh.

  Recalling that Cameron had taken a stab wound in the shoulder during their case together, he asked, “How’s your shoulder?”

  “Fine,” she said. “Yet another badge of courage. So tell me, are you still on the market?”

  “Market for what?” David asked her.

  “I’m taking about ladies,” she said. “A good looking piece of beefcake like you has to have a lady, or are you still shopping around?”

  Thinking of Chelsea, he replied, “I’m working on it.”

  “Don’t give up. She’ll come around.”

  “I hope.” He settled into the reason for his call. “Amber Houston.”

  “Tragedy.” The humor had left her voice. “What about her? Tell me you’ve got a lead.”

  “We have a young lady who got stabbed and butchered,” David said. “Her uterus was taken. Plus, we got DNA that matches with the DNA l
eft in your victim. Would you call that a lead?”

  “That means our guy hit again,” Cameron said. “That’s three hits. I got a call last year about a woman in LA who got killed. The perp used the same M.O. What have you got?”

  “Tell me about Amber?”

  “I’ll do better than that,” she replied. “Does Mac Faraday still own the Spencer Inn?”

  David grinned. “Will you bring the case file?”

  “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

  “Deal.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Are you ready for some television viewing?” Mac asked Bogie and David when they came into the police chief’s office. There was a big bowl of popcorn in the middle of the conference table and the television was set up with the Blu-ray player.

  “You seem to be making yourself kind of comfortable here,” David noted.

  “The killer placed Khloe’s body in front of the television with her reality show playing,” Mac said.

  “And it was set to re-loop one particular episode.”

  “Why that one episode?” Mac asked. “I looked it up. Khloe’s show had shot twelve episodes.” He pointed at the set with the remote. “Why this one? I think he’s sending us a message.”

  “We need to watch that episode to see if we can find that message,” Bogie said.

  “Can I delegate one of you to watch it?” David asked.

  “You found the body.” Bogie poked David in the shoulder with his finger. “In this department, the responding officer who finds the body takes the lead in the investigation. Your daddy’s rule. This is your case, so you need to watch the hour-long cat fight between four material girls who wanna be stars.”

  Mac held up the bowl to offer them. “Popcorn, gentlemen?”

  David took a handful of popcorn. “I need a beer, too.”

  One corner of his lip curled when Mac shook his head. “Sorry, man, you’re on duty. You need to watch this sober.”

  While David took three bottle waters out of his portable fridge for them to have with the popcorn, Bogie asked Mac, “Tonya said the governor called to request we let Bevis in on the investigation. What did you tell him?”

  “No,” Mac said.