Dirty Devil Read online

  “He had legal troubles?” Jack asked.

  “Someone was always trying to sue him. John was ruthless in the courtroom, and he was just a bastard the rest of the time. There was no kindness in him. He saw people as marks. Just a means to an end. He didn’t care about guilt or innocence. He cared about the strategy. About the game. And he liked to win.”

  “That didn’t bother you?” I asked.

  “Sometimes it’s better to keep things we find distasteful to ourselves rather than become a target,” Kevin said. “Being John’s friend was a lot easier than being his enemy.”

  “We know he received a package a week or so ago with a dead animal inside,” Jack said. “Was there anything he was working on that you know of that had him concerned about his safety?”

  Kevin snorted. “John was always concerned about his safety. He got more paranoid as he got older. I think that’s part of the reason he drank so much. He hired security from time to time, but he had little rituals he went through. He never sat with his back to a door. When we closed our firm and he opened his new practice, he bought the entire fifteenth floor of the Macintosh Building so anyone wanting to get to him had to go through security and also check in with the elevator attendant before he’d take them to the top. He’d stare down at the street, looking for suspicious characters hanging around the front of the building or vans parked in one spot too long. He was obsessive. Most of his suits were tailored so he could wear a holster without there being a bulge. The windows of his Porsche were bulletproof.

  “But as far as any cases he was concerned about recently, I have no idea. We didn’t discuss his cases or mine when we got together unless one of us wanted to bounce something off the other. He’s recently just wrapped up two big cases that both had a lot of press coverage, and he mentioned he was going to Aruba for a couple of weeks.”

  “Did he ever discuss his health with you?” Jack asked.

  Kevin let out a sigh. “Not in so many words, but I could read between the lines. I think he was starting to realize his own mortality. He never had before. He always talked like he was going to live forever. And he took risks the same way. But about a month ago he came to my office and said he needed to get everything in order. That’s when he made the changes to his will. It was the first time in all the years I’ve known him where he seemed upset by something. John didn’t have a conscience, so I knew it couldn’t be work related. So I assumed it was his health that was the issue. I asked him if there was anything I needed to know about, but he wouldn’t share the specifics.”

  “Did he ever talk about his procedures with Dr. Park?” I asked.

  Kevin chuckled again. “Dr. Graves, we men become very vain after a certain age. The women don’t pay us attention like they once did, and we live in a society that’s judged more and more on how you look than what you can do. I don’t know of a man in my circle who hasn’t used Dr. Park for something. It’s just maintenance, after all. Like getting an oil change on your vehicle.”

  Jack stood and I followed suit. “I appreciate your time,” he said. “I’ll be there in the morning for the reading. And if I could get a copy when you’re finished?”

  “I’ll have my secretary print one for you,” Kevin said, extending a hand. “I’ll walk you out. Since you and Dr. Graves are newly married, it’s never too early to start discussing estate planning. I’m happy to help you get things in order.”

  “I appreciate the offer,” Jack said. “Samson, Fitzhugh, and Lieberman have been our family’s firm for decades.”

  “They’re good,” Kevin said, smiling. “Not as good as me, but they’re good.”

  “How did you fare during the storm the other night?” Jack asked. “Any damage?”

  “No, we were lucky,” he said. “Jilly and I were having a late supper at the club with friends when the sirens started going off. The staff moved us all to a hallway until things quieted down and we could go home.”

  Jack opened the truck door for me and helped me in, and then he said his goodbyes. I felt Kevin’s eyes on us until we were completely out of sight.

  “There’s something about him…” I said.

  “What?” Jack asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe my Spidey-sense is off. He seems like a likeable guy. He was polite and cooperative. But it doesn’t matter how nice or cooperative he is. I can’t trust a man who knows what kind of man John Donnelly was, and still chose to be friends with him. I read a study once about how our personalities and characters are a combination of our five closest friends. I think Kevin Fischer is exactly like John Donnelly. He just does a better job at concealing it.”

  9

  The trip to Dr. Park’s house didn’t go as planned. He was on the golf course, or so his wife said, so Jack gave her his card and said we’d be in touch tomorrow. Which was a good thing, because my head was pounding. I needed food and caffeine.

  “You have that look on your face,” Jack said.

  “What look?”

  “Your hangry look. Don’t worry. You married me for good reason.”

  It wasn’t but a few minutes later that Jack was ordering a burger, fries, and a shake for me at the drive-thru.

  “You’ve had enough coffee,” he said, “so get that look out of your eyes. A milkshake will be good for you.”

  “Said no dietician ever. But you’re right about the burger,” I said, licking mustard off my finger. “I did marry you for a good reason. Food, sex, and endless adventures.”

  “Catchy title,” he said. “Maybe you should write a travel book.”

  “I’ll stick to murder boards,” I said.

  It was almost dark by the time we made it back to the house. I couldn’t say I was surprised to see the pizza delivery man on the front porch.

  “Hey, Jimmy,” Jack said as we got out of the truck.

  “Hey, Sheriff,” Jimmy Cole said, nodding. “How’s it going?”

  I’d known Jimmy since birth, and I’d buried his grandmother the year before. He was in college to do something with computers, but he took up whatever jobs he could find to pay his tuition.

  “Not too bad,” Jack said. “How’s your mom and dad?”

  “They’re doing okay,” he said, taking three pizzas out of his bag. “They’ve been able to hire some extra help at the feed store. Business has been good.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Jack said. “Those pizzas for us?”

  “Yeah,” he said, grinning. “Second time I’ve been out here today. I thought y’all might be having a party or something.”

  “We’ve got house guests,” I said. “I think one of them is a Gremlin.”

  He looked at me funny. “What’s a Gremlin?”

  “Like from the movie,” I said. “Gremlins?”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “Well, it’s a little before your time.”

  “Maybe they’ll show it sometime on the oldies channel,” he said, making Jack snort with laughter.

  “How much do I owe you for the pizzas?” Jack asked.

  “Twenty-two fifty,” Jimmy said. “They did a good job patching up your house. Looks good as new. I saw the pictures in the paper when it got blown up.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said, taking the money from his wallet and adding a generous tip. “We decided to redecorate. Tell your mom and dad hello for me.”

  “Will do,” he said, his eyes bugging at the tip. “Wow, thanks a lot.” He ran down the front steps to his small Honda Civic and called back over his shoulder, “Good luck on the election. Mom and Dad said you’ve got it in the bag, and they don’t believe a word of that stuff Floyd Parker is spreading around.”

  “I appreciate that,” Jack said just as the front door opened.

  “Dinner!” Doug said, taking the pizzas from Jack. “You guys made it back just in time.”

  “We got drive-thru on the way home,” I said. “They’re all yours.”

  “Oh, good,” Doug said. “Because I didn’t really order extra. I wasn’t
sure when you guys would be back. Uncle Ben is in the office still. And I fixed your bread maker. It just needed a couple extra parts.”

  “It was working fine last time I used it,” Jack said.

  “Huh,” he said. “My bad.” Doug veered off into the kitchen and we went to the left to Jack’s office. The house still smelled of new construction and fresh paint. Jack’s office was on the west side of the house and caught the late afternoon sun through the wall of windows, but Carver had lowered the blackout shades.

  “Hey, there you are,” Carver said. “Magnolia was asking about you. I think she has a crush. She said you have the kind of voice she could sink her teeth into.”

  “Well, that’s—”

  Carver shook his head and pointed at the open computer and Jack turned to look at me and mouthed the word creepy instead of saying it out loud.

  “—nice,” he said for Magnolia’s benefit.

  “How was your trip into town?” Carver asked. “I swear I have no idea how y’all survive out here. It’s just a bunch of open land. No high-rises, no malls, no smog or traffic. I wouldn’t be able to survive.”

  “We get along okay,” Jack said in his best country accent. “Sometimes it’s hard to get the wagon into town if it’s too muddy, and Jaye’s got blisters on her hands from churning all that butter to sell at market.”

  I couldn’t stop laughing. It was rare Jack was silly, but when he was it was worth the price of admission.

  “Very funny,” Carver said. “You didn’t used to be that funny. Must be Jaye’s rubbing off on you.”

  I was still chuckling when I walked over to the whiteboard against the wall. We’d done some upgrades since the explosion wiped out most of the first floor, and Jack said there was no point having money if you couldn’t spend it on things that were absolutely ridiculous. They might be ridiculous, but it certainly saved us a lot of time when solving a murder.

  The whiteboard was Carver’s design, and it was touchscreen so we could bring up pictures and data on the victim and any persons of interest. We could also make our own notes directly on the whiteboard.

  I touched the screen to activate it, and then went about the business of building a murder board. I put up the picture of John Donnelly. A victim who’d victimized so many. A man who looked the picture of perfection on the outside but who was slowly dying on the inside due to a lifetime of poor decisions. I pulled up my autopsy report so it showed beneath his picture, and it reminded me that I still needed to look at the autopsy reports of the other victims. It had been a busy day.

  “Were you able to get a clear visual from the security disc I gave you?” Jack asked.

  “Magnolia, play D-192,” Carver said. “I cleaned it up as much as I could, but the killer is either really lucky, or he purposely waited for the right circumstances before he made his move.”

  “I’m going to go with the latter,” I said. “The guy’s been killing for six years and hasn’t gotten caught.”

  We watched the security feed project onto the wall. “It looks like static,” Jack said.

  “That’s the rain,” Carver said. “And to make matters worse the wind was blowing hard enough to shift the cameras. They’re not even pointing down at the parking lot. The camera on door has the best shot of Donnelly leaving, but once he gets a couple feet out the door visibility is totally gone.”

  “Well, it was worth a shot,” I said.

  “Now that we have some time,” Carver said. “Run this down from the top for me. So far I’ve just gotten the CliffsNotes version, plus what Magnolia and I have been able to dig up. But I need to fill in some of the blanks.”

  “The victim was found by a man named Donald Cotton. He owns about twenty acres of farmland out close to the national forest. He’s got scarecrow poles in each of his fields. But the killer chose the one closest to the house to display the victim.”

  “He wanted him found faster,” Carver said, his fingers striking the keys of his computer.

  A picture of Donald Cotton popped onto the whiteboard, along with an aerial view of his farm and where the victim was found.

  “Cotton does all right,” Carver said. “He’s seen an uptick in production the last couple of years, and he’s operating in the black. He’s a widower. His finances look good, and he lives within his means. Doesn’t travel. He’s got quite a bit of family in the area and they seem to be close.”

  “Let’s project a map of the state on the other board,” Jack said. “I want to pinpoint locations on where each of the victims was found.”

  “An excellent idea, Jack,” Magnolia purred.

  My lips twitched and I waggled my eyebrows in Jack’s direction.

  “Moving on,” Jack said. “We need to look at Donnelly’s death in two ways. As if he was killed by the same person who killed Dana Martin, Steven Carlisle, and Carson Pritchett. And also as someone who could’ve been killed by a disgruntled client or someone close to him.”

  “I can run the variables for both,” Carver said.

  “Kimberly Kloss is the girlfriend,” Jack said, and her picture went up on the board.

  “Yowza,” Carver said. “She’s young enough to be his granddaughter. Icky.”

  “Icky?” Jack asked.

  “That’s the technical term,” he said.

  “I don’t think she was looking for a long-term potential in a partner,” I said. “She was just looking for long-term income. She’s definitely not the grieving girlfriend. And according to José, she was hooking up with the pool boy on the side. We need to run a background on him, by the way. What was his name?”

  “Mark,” Jack said. “He works for Tropical Pool. We don’t have a last name.”

  “It won’t be hard to find,” Carver said. “Maybe he wanted Kimmie all for himself. Or maybe they were both in on it together. Kill Donnelly and then take what they can of his fortune.”

  “It’s an angle,” I said.

  “She have an alibi?” Carver asked.

  “According to her, the storm freaked her out and she took an Ambien to knock herself out for the night.”

  “So no,” Carver said.

  “The way Donnelly was killed was messy,” I said. “It took time, planning, and work. I can’t see her sweating or risking breaking one of those claws to get him on that pole.”

  “I agree,” Jack said. “But let’s look closer at the pool boy. She’d need someone to do the dirty work for her.”

  “It could’ve been the perfect plan,” Carver said.

  “Except for the fact that Donnelly left his entire estate to his secretary,” Jack said. “Kimmie is not going to be happy about that.”

  “Ouch,” Carver said. “So much for best-laid plans.”

  “She’s calculating,” Jack said. “And I think smarter than she lets people think she is. The house manager was certainly threatened by her.”

  I put José’s picture up on the board.

  “José Sosa,” Jack said. “He’s been with the victim about a dozen years. He’s very comfortable in his role. From the way he acted when Jaye and I first showed up, he’s got some illegals on staff. But other than some penny-ante stuff when he was younger, he’s clean. But also without an alibi. Claims he was at the house all evening to ride out the storm. He has living quarters over the garage.”

  “Amazing living quarters,” I interjected. “By José’s own admission, he knows everything that’s going on in the house and with Donnelly. He knew of Kimmie’s affair. He knew about the threats. If Donnelly changed his will a month ago because he knew he was going to die, that seems like something someone as in tune as José would know. Maybe he was just pissed he got cut out of the will.”

  “Maybe,” Jack said. “We’ll ask him tomorrow after the will reading and see what he says, but I think you’re probably right. José takes pride in knowing everything going on in what he sees as his house. I doubt Donnelly had as many secrets as he thought he did.”

  “Twelve years is a long time to work for s
omeone like John Donnelly,” I said. “There must have been something that made it worth the abuse.”

  “His secretary has been with him twenty-one years,” Jack said. “But the answer is easy. Money. He pays the people who make his life easiest and most organized. His attorney, his secretary, and his house manager.”

  Caver pulled up the financials for José and Martha.

  “Holy cow,” I said. “They make more than all of us combined.”

  “That’s because we work for the people,” Carver said. “Fortunately, Michelle’s salary allows me to live the life I’ve become accustomed to.”

  “Amen,” I said. “What about Kevin Fischer?”

  “His financials will take a bit of time,” Carver said. “He’s got things protected. And he has hidden assets.”

  “I told you he was suspicious,” I said to Jack.

  “There’s a difference between being suspicious and being a murderer,” he said. “But we’ll take a close look at him. I’m not sure of his motive though. He just lost a major client, and he wasn’t left anything in the will.”

  “Maybe Donnelly’s client list will go to Fischer,” I said.

  “Could be,” Jack said.

  “So outside of the girlfriend and house manager,” Carver said, “Who else might want this guy dead?”

  “Everybody,” Jack and I said together.

  “He’s got two ex-wives and had multiple relationships,” I said. “He got a woman pregnant and paid her off so she and the kid would get out of his life. He’s got four adult children with his exes. His own attorney used to be his partner until they got into it and split up. Then there’s any number of his cases and the death threats to go along with them.”