Death's Door (19 page)

Mike steepled his fingers and gazed at Paul with blue-gray
eyes that had always reminded him of a wolf. He realized he sounded way too upset for this to be just another case. “Some banks and credit card companies process within three days.”

“Can’t the funds be tracked? Find out where they went and you’ll…have them.” He realized it couldn’t be this simple or it wouldn’t be a nationwide problem.

“Her savings were withdrawn by a person at another branch of the same bank. There’s no way to tell who received the funds since they weren’t transferred into an account. Same with the cash withdrawals on the credit cards.”

Paul took in a deep breath, sucking air through his teeth. He felt like hitting something. How could he tell Madison he couldn’t help her? Maybe he was becoming as tightly wound as his father. Unfuckingbelievable. “What should I tell her to do?”

“Reassure her that she’s not alone. One person in four is a victim of identity theft.”

“I’m sure that’ll be
very
comforting.”

Mike Tanner arched one brow. “Tell her to check her family and friends. If she finds the culprit, she may get her money back. Go with the odds.”

Paul rose, clutching his empty coffee cup. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

He was almost out the door when his father said, “I make it a practice not to get involved with clients. It’s a lose-lose situation.”

Paul didn’t answer and kept walking. He dropped his cup in the wastepaper basket next to the receptionist’s desk. He’d never been particularly introspective, but long ago he’d realized his inability to have meaningful relationships stemmed from his own relationship with his father. The matter-of-fact comment about getting involved with clients was as close to a personal discussion as they’d ever gotten.

Paul had been seven when his mother kissed him goodbye
and told him to mind his father. Mike Tanner had later explained she’d left them to join the “crazies” in California. Paul had been too young to have any clue what this meant, but he intuitively realized not to question his father.

Back then, Mike had recently received a promotion to the homicide unit. He was too busy to care for his son and had sent him to Woodridge Military Academy in Georgia, the only military school that would accept such a young student. It had taken Paul years to realize this might have been an ill-advised attempt to lure his mother home.

It hadn’t worked. His mother had never bothered to contact them. He’d thought about looking for her when he was in college, but decided that would be disloyal to his father.

The only time he saw his father after his mother left was during the holidays. His summers—only slightly less lonely than the winters—were spent at camp. He came to realize his father was the man who paid the bills. That was the extent of the involvement Mike Tanner wanted with Paul.

He’d accepted the situation long ago and had gotten on with life. So why listen to his father’s advice now?

What is the bestselling record album of all time?

M
ADISON SLOWED
as she drove through the streets of Coral Gables toward the home she’d once shared with Aiden Larsen.

“You could be living here,” she told Aspen.

The dog turned from the open window at the sound of her voice and wagged his tail. His soulful eyes brought a smile despite this mess. He was a wonderful animal and for all that had happened to him, the dog deserved a better life. “Don’t worry. I’ll find another place with a yard for you.”

She gazed out the windows at the many homes built from local limestone called coral rock. Coral Gables had been one of Miami’s first planned communities when it was developed in the 1920s. Most of the Mediterranean-style homes had tile roofs, lush landscaping and streets bordered with stately trees.

When they’d been house-hunting, she’d desperately wanted a home here. It was still a lovely area, but now its emotional pull wasn’t as strong. She’d changed, she realized. That transformation had come very recently. A little over a week ago, she’d had a Realtor looking for a replica of the home she’d lost.

Where she lived no longer seemed to matter. She merely needed a place she could afford that could accommodate Aspen. Erin’s death had rocked her world.

Madison had never imagined feeling so truly…alone. With her father gone, her mother missing in action and Erin mur
dered, the people she was closest to had unexpectedly vanished. Having her identity stolen was the latest blow. It had unsettled her more than she could have imagined because she had no one to turn to.

She parked in front of the Mediterranean villa that used to be her home. She let Aspen out to sniff around. She knew the dog well enough now to realize he wouldn’t run away. If dogs could be said to be insecure, then Aspen was. He didn’t allow Madison to get too far away from him. And he liked to be on the leash. Probably because he didn’t see very well and relied on her to guide him.

She rang the bell and waited. The shutters were closed and there was no sign anyone was inside the house. The morning paper had been picked up, she noticed, glancing over her shoulder to the lawn where Aspen was ambling around, sniffing. A mockingbird trilled from the banyan tree that she’d treasured and the light breeze brought with it the fragrant scent of the neighbor’s rose garden.

She rang the bell again and heard its faint echo down the long hall. Had she missed Aiden? She checked her watch; it was too early for him to be in the office. The distant thump-thump of footfalls came through the plank door. A few seconds later, it swung open.

“Madison? What are you doing here?” Aiden stood in the open doorway, his hair still mussed from sleeping. Wrinkled khaki trousers hung from his slim hips. His bare torso was waxed smooth—evidently another of Chloe’s innovations.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you, but I need to talk to you.”

“It’s been rough. I almost lost Chloe, you know.”

His words smacked her like a slap across her face. He’d never felt so deeply about her, Madison thought with a stab of envy. A second later she realized that maybe there was some measure of justice in this. Chloe was ill after having a stupid,
pointless procedure. Then she reminded herself that this was life-threatening. It was a moment before she could ask, “I heard she had a staph infection. Is she better?”

“Yes. She’ll be fine.”

Madison stepped inside, calling softly over her shoulder, “Here, Aspen. Here, boy.”

The dog stumbled up the steps, wagging his tail. She reached out and snapped the leash in her hand to his collar.

“You got a dog.”

“Erin’s responsible,” she replied without bothering to give him any details. Her life was no longer any of Aiden’s business.

“Look, I’m sorry about Erin. We didn’t always agree on things, but I know she was a good friend to you.”

Madison nodded and stepped inside what had been her home, with Aspen at her heels. She should have listened to Erin. Her friend hadn’t liked Aiden from the start, but Madison had been too in love to care.

“I would have come to the funeral, but Chloe was having cosmetic surgery, then she developed the infection. She was just released from the hospital last night. She’s too weak to use the stairs so she’s staying in the maid’s room.”

Madison realized he’d been speaking very softly. Sounds tended to carry in these older homes that had decorative tile on the walls and marble floors.

Aiden led her to the library just off the large living room where they’d once entertained key sponsors when they’d launched Total Trivia. She couldn’t help noticing Chloe had re-decorated the entire place. Not one stick of furniture remained from her marriage to Aiden. She had to bite back a scathing remark. He could have given her the furniture, but he hadn’t mentioned it.

They entered the library and Aiden closed the door. He punched the radio mounted on the wall and Michael Jackson’s
Thriller
music softly filled the room.

“The bestselling album of all time—to date,” she said automatically.

“Do you think in trivia or do you just do it to show how much you know?” Aiden asked, flipping the radio off again. Apparently he’d changed his mind about the need for music.

It wasn’t the first time he’d posed the question. When they’d been married, he’d often accused her of showing off by spouting trivia.

Aiden flopped down on the sofa. From the looks of the bed pillow and lightweight blanket, she decided he’d slept here rather than upstairs to be closer to Chloe, who was in the maid’s room off the kitchen. How sweet.

She sat in the chair next to him and began to tell him why she’d come. “I’m sorry to stop by unexpectedly, but this couldn’t wait. I’ve been the victim of identity theft. They’ve wiped out my savings account and withdrew the limit in cash on my credit cards.”

He ran his hand through his already tousled hair. “Jesus! I’m sorry. What a mess.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. Even though she’d mentally rehearsed what she was going to say, the words wouldn’t come.

“You need…money.”

“No, no. It’s okay.” Of course she needed money, but she’d rather starve than ask him for any. “To access my accounts someone would need to…”

Aiden shot off the sofa. “You think I—” he stared down at her “—took your money? That’s outrageous! Why would I? I’ve got plenty and Chloe has her own trust fund.”

“You were in my office, using my computer.”

“So? That doesn’t mean I would raid your accounts. My computer wasn’t working and you were gone.”

His indignation seemed genuine and what he said made sense.

“No, I didn’t seriously think you’d done it, but I wondered
if there was any way someone at work could have gotten the information.”

“You changed your account numbers and credit card passwords after the divorce, didn’t you?”

“No,” she sheepishly admitted. “I meant to, but I never got around to it. I didn’t see any point. I knew you wouldn’t…”

Aiden dropped back down into the new, plush sofa. Her revelation had taken the steam out of him. “Someone at work?” He considered a moment. “Our personal information is in the files and on the main computer terminal. We both used the same passwords.”

“Yes, we did. I assumed you changed yours after we split.”

“No, I knew you’d never—” He started to laugh.

She couldn’t help laughing with him. For an instant it seemed like old times. They’d been happy once. Very happy, she’d believed.

The library door swung open. Chloe glided in, wearing big fuzzy slippers. Her white robe and pale skin made her seem more like a wraith than the healthy woman that Madison had last seen.

“What’s going on?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

Aiden vaulted off the sofa and sprinted to Chloe’s side, saying, “Honey, you shouldn’t be out of bed.”

Chloe leaned against him as if it hurt to stand. She dramatically whispered, “I heard the doorbell.” She glanced at Madison through narrowed eyes. “What’s she doing here?”

For a moment all the air seemed to have been sucked out of the room. Madison and Chloe had managed to avoid each other at work since the day Aiden had announced he wanted a divorce. Madison had tenaciously hung on to her stake in the company, but she’d been forced to share its turf with her rival.

Now she was in Chloe’s home and Madison could see that even in this weakened state the woman harbored tremendous resentment. Why? Chloe had gotten her way. Did she expect Madison would simply give up and slip into the night?

“Why’s that dog here? It’ll mess up everything,” Chloe bleated, and tears sprang to her eyes.

Madison watched as Aiden kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay, honey. Madison just came by to warn us. We could have been victims of identity theft.”

Why hadn’t Aiden told Chloe the real truth? Madison was the victim. Maybe he was protecting Madison from Chloe’s anger. Pent-up rage seethed behind the tears. Her reaction to seeing Madison seemed out of proportion.

“Oh, no.” Chloe began to sob. “I can’t take anything more.”

Madison rose and tugged on Aspen’s leash, deciding to back up Aiden. “You might want to check your accounts as well as your credit cards to see if there’s been any illegal activity.”

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of everything,” Aiden assured Chloe.

Madison walked toward the front door of the home she’d once loved. Forget Aiden Larsen. No one was going to take care of her but herself.

P
AUL SAT
in Captain Callahan’s office and waited while the captain took a long-distance call. Callahan was in his late fifties with a trim midriff and long legs that would look skinny in shorts. He’d shaved his Friar Tuck fringe of remaining hair so he had a bare head like many junior members of the force. If it was supposed to make him more approachable, it didn’t work.

Callahan hung up and frowned at the receiver. “Okay, where were we?”

“I’m feeling great. I want to be reactivated. There’s a lot going on. You could use me.”

Callahan shifted in his chair. He pumped iron but he still had a thin man’s shoulders. “I don’t like to go against the board. If anything happens to you, then…well, shit, you know. The lawyers will jump all over us and the city will have to settle for a bundle.”

“True.” He hadn’t expected Callahan to allow him to return. “Then is it okay for me to work on the q.t.?”

The captain quirked eyebrows like centipedes. “You wouldn’t be paid.”

“I understand. I sorta walked in on a homicide. Link’s in charge of the investigation.…” He let his words hang there. Even the captain—or maybe especially the captain—knew Link’s limitations.

“I guess that’s all right,” he said. “Do you have any hunches about the crime?”

Paul noticed Callahan didn’t ask which crime. The man hadn’t risen to his position without having a few brains. He’d read the incident reports and knew Paul had been on the scene of Erin Wycoff’s murder.

“Not really. I think a profiler will tell us the killer knew the victim and acted with such violence because of it.”

“What about the Connelly woman? She has motive.”

“Possibly, but I doubt it.” He didn’t want the captain to suspect he was involved with Madison. His father was one thing, but it would be the kiss of death for his career if the captain discovered the real reason he wanted to work on the case was to help Madison. “I was with her just after she discovered her friend’s body. I don’t think she was acting. She was stunned.”

“Okay, tell Link I said you’re to have access to the murder book and all the reports.”

Paul stood, realizing he was being dismissed. He walked out and took the elevator down a floor to the homicide division. A few guys were in the office, clacking out reports on computers, but not Link. Paul greeted the men with a wave and responded to their questions about his leg by saying he was ready to return to work.

Erin Wycoff’s murder book was in the main file cabinet. It had been updated since Paul had looked at it and contained
interviews with key witnesses and friends. He scanned the reports. Other than the forensics report of dog hair on Erin’s clothes and in her car, there was no mention of Aspen. He knew he should include the tip he’d received from the Dicon Labs employee, but the woman had sworn him to secrecy for fear of losing her job.

Even if he could have included the information, Paul wouldn’t have. For reasons he didn’t want to analyze too closely, he’d decided to help Madison. He couldn’t see that involving Aspen and possibly having him returned for experiments was going to solve this case. If it did turn out to be important, he could reveal it later.

He was a little disappointed not to find more. Erin Wycoff had been killed over a week ago. The trail went cold a lot sooner than people would think. This murderer had been clever and unless they discovered the “why” of the crime, it might never be solved.

“Hey, dude, what’s the haps?” Trey Williams, one of the newer detectives, slapped him on the back.

“Not much. I’m helping out—unofficially—until the board clears me.”

“Why don’t you help me? I’ve got my hands full after last night.”

“What happened?”

“A couple of gangs shot it out. You add that to the usual shit and—” He waved his hand at a stack of files.

“Anything interesting, unusual?”

“Not really, unless you count someone putting down a man the way you would a dog or horse.”

“What?”

“Someone gave a guy a shot of succinylcholine chloride. At one time, it was used to put down animals and is still found in vets’ offices,” Trey informed him. “It paralyzes the heart and lungs in half a minute. Sometimes it’s used in the emergency
room. It breaks down in the body very quickly. That makes it hard to detect. We wouldn’t have known what killed the man except a nosy neighbor heard a scuffle in the apartment next door and called 911. The killer heard the sirens and dropped the syringe in the alley behind the building.”

“No prints on the syringe?”

“Nah. We couldn’t get that lucky.”

“Did you check to see if it’s the type of syringe vets use or the type doctors use?”