Carolyn Arnold - McKinley 03 - Money is Murder (3 page)

Unusual Compensation

JIMMY VOIGT DESERVED MORE IN life than he’d been given. His marriage of twenty-five years fell apart because of the badge—at least that
’s the excuse his wife had used when she left him. Sean had heard all about it, and had seen the same scenario happen to other officers. Jimmy had taken a desk job, opting for political boredom and budget play, in an effort to preserve the relationship. It didn’t matter. He had told Sean he was okay with it, but there was a glint in his eyes that belied his words. He was trapped into position. He said that was the price one paid when they sacrificed their dream for someone else and then excelled at living the other life.

“He’s going to be surprised to see us.” Sara smiled, bouncing on the front steps of his apartment building. “Hopefully he likes this one.” She angled the box containing the cognac.

“At two fifty a bottle, he better.”

Sara laughed.
“You have billions, darling, yet you’re worried about the money.”

“Guess you’re right. Old habits.” He smiled at her and rang the buzzer again.

“Hello.” Jimmy called out over the speaker.

Sara leaned over Sean. “Jimmy—”

“Sara? You and Sean? Or have you decided to run away with me?”

Sara snickered.
“Sean is here as well. Can we come up?”

They heard a
buzz
, and went in. Jimmy was waiting with his apartment door open.

“Would you look at what returned home.”

Sara wrapped her arms around him, and Jimmy pulled Sean in for a manly hug, throwing in a few brisk pats to the back.

Sean took the Hennessey XO from Sara and extended it to Jimmy.
“We brought you this.”

“Oh my. I should say I couldn’t possibly, but yes, I can.” He turned and gestured them inside. “How about we open this right now? Would you like some?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Sean glanced at Sara. He loved seeing her so happy and
was determined to keep a smile on her face permanently.

Jimmy returned not long after, handed them their drinks, and dropped into a tattered, plaid recliner.
“I know you’re supposed to drink this in a fancy glass, a snifter, but I’ve never bothered with them.”

“No worries, Jimmy. I don’t think I have any either.” Sean put a hand on Sara’s lap and she reached for it.

“You might want to invest in some. I’m sure you could get yourselves some fine crystal ones now. You’ll be throwing parties and entertaining in a huge mansion before you know it.”

Sean felt Sara
’s grip lose strength. Maybe it hadn’t occurred to her before now how much their lives had changed, and were still forming, because of their sizable portfolio. There was a time for everything, and going over what he wanted in a house right now didn’t suit the purpose of their visit.

Jimmy lifted the glass to his mouth and he took a slow draw on the amber liquid. His eyes rolled back and shut.
“This is heavenly.”

“We’re glad you like it,” Sean said.

“Look at you two. You’re even talking as a couple now. It’s no longer I, it’s we.”

Sean detected a trace of sadness flicker across Jimmy
’s features, but it disappeared as quickly as it came in.

Jimmy relaxed heavier into his reclining chair and sprung up the footrest.
“If this is what I get for helping you two out, count me in any time.” He took another sip.

“That’s what we were hoping for.” Sara leaned forward and placed her glass on the coffee table in front of her.

“Uh-oh.”

She hitched an eyebrow.

“Now don’t get working me over. I know that look.”

“It’s just a quick favor.”

“That’s what you said when you were in Cancun.”

“Did you get in trouble for helping us?”

Jimmy rubbed his face, his whiskers making a scraping noise against his hand.
“That’s not the point.”

“Come on, Jimmy, you know you want to help us. There’s always more cognac.”

“A nice scotch is good too.”

“Sure, whatever you want.”

Silence fell in the room for a few seconds.

Sean broke it.
“The man who left me his fortune…”

“Yes, Mr. Quinn, he’s infamous now. So are you two. It’s all over local news. Reporters and television stations have been calling PD. Do you know how many calls I’ve fielded trying to keep your location secret?”

“We appreciate it.”

“As you should, but the way I see it, we stick together.” He lifted his glass in a toasting gesture, swirled it, and then took another draw. “Yes, very good cognac.”

“We’re glad you feel that way,” Sara said.

“You’re talking like that too now, huh? Guess there’s no chance for me.”

Sara smiled at him.
“Jimmy, you’ll always have a special place in my heart.”

Sean placed a hand on Sara
’s back and patted it softly. When she had her focus set on something, she almost always got it.

Jimmy wiggled his body, settling even farther into the chair, the cognac clearly doing its job. “All right, before the air gets thick in here, what is it you need?”

Sara sat back into the sofa and Sean angled forward.

“Mr. Quinn had a daughter by the name of Cindy. It seems she either never married, got divorced, whatever, but she died with her father’s last name.”

“Okay.” Jimmy dragged out the word.

“She was killed or at least Mr. Quinn believed so.”

“He
believed
so? What does that mean?”

“Show him the note, darling.” Sara gestured for Sean to hand it over to Jimmy.

Sean walked it to him. They waited while he read it.

He looked up from the paper slowly.
“So, this guy’s asking you, from the grave, to solve his daughter’s murder?”

“Yeah, but here’s the thing. The papers say she killed herself.”

“She committed suicide, but dear old Dad doesn’t want to accept it.” Jimmy’s eyes lowered from Sean’s after the words came out.

“Mr. Quinn has done so much for us that we owe him this, Jimmy.” Sara put on her feminine appeal.

He shared looks between them.
“What do you want me to do?”

“We need to know everything about the investigation, who the lead detective was, get access to her autopsy report—”

“Whoa. I’m not sure I can get all of that.”

“Jimmy, I know you can.” Sara fluttered her eyelashes.

“If you were any prettier I’d have to steal you from this man.” Jimmy jabbed a pointed finger toward Sean.

“We need your help, Jimmy, if we’re going to do this right,” Sean petitioned.

“What did the papers say exactly?”

“They said that she overdosed on over-the-counter sleeping pills. But Mr. Quinn’s adamant belief that she didn’t kill herself is enough for us, and considering all that—”

“Yes, I know, all that he did for you.”

Sara nodded.

“All right, I’ll do what I can.” He folded the letter back up and put it on the arm of his chair. “Where did this murder happen?”

“I have all the information we could find on her here.” Sara reached into her large purse and pulled out a file folder. “This is everything we gathered online. We thought it might help you make sure you get the right Cindy Quinn. To answer your question, she was found in her New York City flat.”

“A flat in New York.” Jimmy let out a whistle. “What’s it like?”

At The Top Of The World

THERE
’S NOTHING LIKE A SPRING morning in New York City. Sean and Sara had debated taking the two-hour train ride but opted for a car service instead. Their uniformed driver opened the door for them and they stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Sean felt small next to the towering buildings that loomed overhead, reaching for the sky. People hustled past them, everyone in a hurry to get someplace. There was always something to do, somewhere to be. For him and Sara, their
something to do
was an appointment at eleven with Edward Cranston, the CEO of Universal Acquisitions Corporation. They had arrived in plenty of time and were at the entrance to the company
’s corporate condo building where they would be staying.

Originally they were only planning to be there for the day, but with Quinn
’s letter, they decided it best they stay in the city for a while and look into things. While it turned out they had the key for Cindy’s flat, they had no intention of staying there and had spoken to Edward about the best places to stay. He had advised them about the condos.

“I can’t believe all of this is ours.” Sean’s head was angled back, his eyes tracing up the glass structure.

“Me either. It feels like a dream that I’m going to wake up from.” Sara faced up as well, holding a hat she was wearing. Ever since Cancun, she had developed a love for the accessory and wore them with many of her outfits. The look had grown on Sean. It didn’t really matter what she wore, the woman was beautiful.

She had dressed in an elegant skirt-suit. It was a bright fuchsia with white banding at the collar, and the jacket had a curved shape at the base, not the standard straight cut of most. She paired the outfit with shoes that coordinated and a sinamay straw hat with a decorative rosette flower bow. She was the poster model for what a true lady should look like.

Sean had dressed in a navy blue suit that draped on his frame in such a manner it accentuated his build. He wore it with a white shirt and a silk tie. He had added a splash of fuchsia with a handkerchief in his jacket pocket. Sara had told him he looked dapper when he met her at the front door.

He slid his hand around her waist and pulled her tight to his side.
“Life is wonderful, isn’t it?”

“It sure is, darling.” Sara smiled at Sean and then passed her expression to an approaching doorman. “Good day.”

“Good day. Mr. and Mrs. McKinley?” He
shared glimpses between the two of them and smiled.

“Yes, and you are,” Sean asked, as they shook hands.

“My name is Emile Salvador.”
He was easily six foot five. His dark hair was thick, matching his eyebrows, and his oval-shaped face wore a pleasant smile.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Emile,” Sara said.

Sean noticed how her natural confidence attracted others and put them at ease.

Emile took their bags and led them inside. Sean passed one last look to the building on the right, the lettering Universal Acquisitions Corporation was located at the top of the structure. The overwhelming sensation transformed to pride with the realization that all of this was his, and a smile tugged at his mouth. He had the ability to make a real difference and maybe he would become more involved than he had originally intended.

Sara turned back for him, holding out her hand. He put his into hers, appreciating the way their hands blended together as if they were one.

Emile led them to an elevator and gestured inside to a uniformed man, perched on a stool in front of the buttons.
“This is Jackson.”

“Good day,” Sara said.

“Good day, ma’am.”

“Jackson, this is Mr. and Mrs. McKinley.”

Jackson held out his hand to them. “Yes, I figured as much.”

Sean didn
’t envy the man his position. While there was intelligence behind Jackson’s eyes, his uneventful employment responsibilities must have lulled him to sleep at times.

“Your suite is on the twentieth floor.”

Sean glanced at the buttons and noticed that was the top. It made sense that Universal would house traveling businessmen and guests there. It served as a regal impression, assigning Universal a subliminal power.

The elevator was one of those fast ones that skyrocketed its occupants up many floors in seconds, leaving a bit of light-headiness in its wake.

“This way, sir, ma’am.”

Jackson led them to a door numbered one and inserted the keycard into the reader. When it flashed green, he handed the card over to Sean, with a smile.

Jackson placed their bags on the floor inside.
“Should you need anything, don’t hesitate. I’m always on the elevator except for my lunch break, twelve to one.”

“Thank you, Jackson.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

Sara spun and wrapped her arms around Sean
’s neck. “I can’t believe it. Having all this will take some getting used to.”

“But I’m sure you’ll manage just fine.”

He took her mouth and she angled her leg behind her.

“Well, darling, I could manage standing here and kissing you all day too, but we should get moving.”

“Nope. We have about two hours and I intend to spend it close to you.”

“Sean.” She placed a hand on his chest. “You can’t mess me up for our meeting.”
She smiled devilishly.
“There will be plenty of time later. We have to stay focused and get answers about Cindy Quinn.”

“I suppose you’re right. I’m surprised that Jimmy hasn’t called yet.”

“Oh, be patient, he’ll come through for us. He’s still got hoops to go through.”

“I don’t miss that.”

“That makes two of us.”

They made their way around the apartment. It was decorated in muted tones—beiges, creams, and grays. The artwork on the wall was minimalistic with silver frames, and the pieces themselves, abstract, adding the only splash of color to the space.

“It’s beautifully laid out, but it could deal with some reds and blues,” Sara said.

“It is geared toward businessmen, darling. They don’t live here permanently.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“What is it? You’re deep in thought.”

“It’s Cindy Quinn.” Sara reached into her purse and pulled out a photo. “She was so young when she died. Twenty-five. Quinn must have had her later in life, but she still had all of hers ahead of her.”

Sean took the picture. Cindy Quinn was posing for a professional portrait. She was dressed in a gray business jacket and white blouse. She had reddish-brown hair and soft facial features. Her eyes were bluish green, and she wore red lipstick.

“You can tell by the eyes that she was very intelligent,” he said.

“I agree. I don’t think she got to the top of the empire just because of her father. We don’t even know anything about her mother.”

“She must be gone too, or, in the least, she’s out of the picture.”

Sara pulled out her laptop and settled at the dining table. She brought up some sites she frequented for, what some may describe as, a morbid hobby. She typed in some search parameters and had her answer in seconds.

She looked over at Sean who was now sitting across from her. “Valerie Hodges was Cindy’s mother. The obit states that she left behind her daughter and a boyfriend, Douglas Quinn.” She paused for a second, letting her words sink in. “He already had the love of his life and wasn’t remarrying.” She clicked away on keys again.

“What are you doing now?”

She kept her eyes on the screen when she answered him. “When I was upstairs at Quinn’s house I had the feeling he must have lost the love of his life and never remarried.” She glanced up for a second as the search results loaded. “There weren’t any photographs. Quinn had a rough life, despite his billions. He faced a lot of loss.”

His hurt must have registered on his face, because Sara continued. “Darling, I also know he lived a full life. To find one’s true love, that is a nearly impossible task these days.”

He reached for her hand. “For some people.”

She smiled. “Yes, for some.” She tapped his hand before releasing it to work on the laptop. “This will take a little more digging—oh, here it is. Felicia Summers married Douglas Quinn, nineteen fifty-five.”

“You are a miracle worker when it comes to finding this stuff.”

“Impressed are we?” She laughed, but it faded quickly. “She died in a car accident in nineteen fifty—” she swallowed, roughly, emotion seeming to seize her, and then she finished her sentence, “fifty-seven. They were only married for two years.”

“The love of his life.”

Sara nodded, tears beading in the corners of her eyes. “They never had a chance to have kids. Cindy was probably Quinn’s only child.”

Sean pointed to the laptop. “Can you find that out on there?”

“Sadly it’s only helpful when people have passed on. From what I’ve seen in my various searches, Cindy was Quinn’s only daughter.”

“Maybe we could ask Jimmy to look in—”

She shook her head.
“I don’t want to pressure him any more than we have to. Maybe Mr. Cranston will be able to provide us some information?”

“You don’t mean telling him about the letter?”

“My gut’s telling me we should keep that part to ourselves until we know more about what’s going on. If he’s involved—”

“The man who wears bowties? No, I doubt he’s involved. He was smiling and happy. He didn’t seem jealous, if you’re thinking money may have been a motive.”

“I wasn’t, until you said that, but it’s not a bad idea—assuming she is the only family Quinn had left. With her out of the way, where would the fortune fall?”

“Might not be a bad idea to find out when Quinn added me to his Will.”

“I think that would be a terrific idea.”

Sara walked into the living area and dropped on the arm of a sofa.