Dirty Money Read online

  I didn’t say anything, but followed him. He had the warrants he’d printed out in hand, and we stood together on the dark porch. I couldn’t really see who else had come along, but I heard Martinez’s voice, so I could assume Lewis was with him since they were pretty much inseparable.

  A couple of the guys split off and went around to the back of the house, and a couple more headed to the carport so they could get started searching the vehicles. I felt Jack come up behind me, his presence recognizable even in the dark. I couldn’t help myself. I turned and looked at him. His gaze met mine, and I wanted to move closer. I’d gotten used to his touch and going without it seemed like torture now.

  He moved a little closer, and I had to keep myself from leaning into him. I was brought back to reality by Nash’s quick raps on the front door. It didn’t take long for the front porch light to come on and the sound of locks opening.

  “What’s going on?” Roy Walsh asked when he opened the door.

  He was a big guy, well over six feet, and he was in the kind of shape you’d expect a firefighter to be in. He was dominating and had that immediate presence of someone who was used to intimidating others. I thought about how tiny Nina was and wondered how often she’d been bulldozed or bullied during their marriage.

  He had a rather angular face and was clean-shaven. In fact, it looked like he’d come fresh from the shower. His dark blond hair was slightly damp and combed back off his face, and he was wearing a pair of cargo shorts and a T-shirt advertising a local brewery. He had a pair of brown Birkenstocks on.

  Nash must have noticed too because he said, “Going somewhere?”

  “I was about to head out,” Roy said. “I don’t really want to stay here tonight. I can’t after…after finding Nina that way.”

  “I understand. We’ll try not to take too long,” Nash said politely. He handed over copies of the warrants, and Roy took them automatically, but it was clear he didn’t know what he was holding.

  “What’s this?”

  “They’re search warrants for your home, vehicles, and your locker at the fire station. Nina’s death has been ruled a homicide.”

  “That’s crazy,” Roy said, looking directly at me. “No one was here. It was just an accident.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Walsh,” I said. “But your wife was poisoned. It was no accident.”

  He squared off in front of the door, blocking the entrance. “Bullshit. What does some hick town coroner know about poisons? This is bullshit. You can’t do this based on some hack’s whim.”

  I was assuming I was the hack he was referring to, but I’d been called worse things.

  “Look, Roy. The best thing you can do is cooperate and let us do our jobs. The sooner we get the facts, the sooner we can clear all this up. Don’t you want to find who did this to your wife?”

  A red flush worked its way up Roy’s cheeks, either from anger or embarrassment, I wasn’t sure.

  “Don’t give me that,” he said with barely restrained anger. “You think I’m stupid? You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t think I killed her. I wasn’t even here! You’ve already asked me all these questions, and I have an alibi.”

  “Then it won’t hurt to ask you a few more questions just to be sure. Then we can start looking for whoever did this to your wife.”

  I was impressed with Nash’s professionalism. It was the first time I’d really gotten the chance of watching him work up close and personal. Jack was there to back him up if he needed assistance, but Nash seemed to be doing fine on his own.

  “Look, why don’t we go into the kitchen and let the guys do what they need to do. We can just have a casual conversation.”

  “I’d rather have my attorney present,” Roy said.

  “That’s fine,” Nash said. His voice was friendly. “You’re more than welcome to do that, but we’ll need to go down to the station, and you’re probably going to be there a lot longer than if we just had a nice and comfortable conversation in your own home.”

  “Fine,” he said, taking a step back. “But when y’all are through I’m calling my lawyer and suing every one of you.”

  I looked at Jack and rolled my eyes. If I put a quarter in a jar every time someone threatened a lawsuit it would be fuller than my swear jar. Jack’s lips twitched and I felt some of the tension go out of my shoulders. Maybe we both just needed some space to cool off. Maybe everything was going to be okay between us.

  Having an actual relationship where you wanted to put your spouse’s needs above your own and learn about compromise was still a very new concept for me. I’d spent my whole life having to rely only on myself. I’d told Jack I wasn’t the best bet for a relationship, but he hadn’t seemed to care. Now he was stuck with me, because we were in it for better or for worse.

  We followed Roy back to the kitchen, and I noticed he had a couple of duffle bags and a backpack sitting in the hallway. Wherever he was going, he was planning on being there awhile.

  I didn’t look back as I heard the team make their way up the stairs toward the bathroom. I’d told Nash everything I could about how the cyanide could’ve been administered. There really wasn’t much to do except test everything that could’ve been the culprit.

  Roy grabbed a beer from the fridge, but didn’t bother to offer anyone else anything to drink. Not that any of us would’ve taken a drink from someone we suspected of poisoning his wife. He slammed himself down into the chair at the breakfast table and it skidded back a couple of inches.

  The kitchen wasn’t any warmer than the rest of the house. Just white, gray, and stainless steel. There was a bowl of grapefruits sitting on the counter and I knew the team would bag them all up when they made their way in.

  I took the seat to Roy’s left, and Jack took the chair next to mine. He still hadn’t uttered a word, but there hadn’t been a need to. Not unless we wanted marriage advice from a twice-divorced cop who thought bowling should be my new hobby. Nash took the seat across from me and scooted his chair a little closer to Roy.

  “Like you said, Roy. You’re not a stupid man,” Nash said. “You know the first person we’ve got to look at is you. You know the statistics.”

  “I didn’t kill my wife,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Then let’s figure out who did. But first you’ve got to answer all these questions and let us eliminate you. Walk us through yesterday morning.”

  “I’ve already told you,” he said. “It was just another morning. We have a very regimented schedule. Nina likes…” He stopped and swallowed. “She liked order. Shift work is hard on everyone. It’s not like we work Monday through Friday normal jobs.”

  “That schedule can be hard on a family,” Nash said. “Nina got up first?”

  A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “She was an old soul. Went to bed around eight o’clock every night and got up at four thirty, rain or shine. I wake up at five and shower, and then we have breakfast together. I get dressed and then leave for the station at six thirty. There’s nothing complicated about it.”

  “You left at six thirty?” Nash asked. “Do you punch a time card at the station?”

  “Sure,” Roy said. A red flush was working its way up his neck and his finger was tapping on the table.

  Nash noticed too because he asked, “What time will your punch card say you arrived at work?”

  Roy looked down at the table and his finger stopped tapping. He tightened his fist into a ball, and he remained silent.

  Nash looked at me and Jack and raised his eyebrows.

  “You really need to help us out here, Roy, and give us a great alibi. Anyone who saw you driving on the street or anyone you talked to at the station. We can’t pin down Nina’s time of death to the minute, but what I did pin down doesn’t look great for you if you’re not completely honest with us.”

  “What kind of window?” Roy asked, finally meeting my gaze.

  “Anywhere from two hours before you last say you saw her to two hours after. A whole lot can be
done in four hours. And you know we’re going to check your punch card anyway. Might as well come straight with us now.”

  Rage flashed in his eyes, and I watched his fists clinch tighter, so the veins in his arms stood out. He had a rigid control of an impressive temper, and I couldn’t help but wonder what happened when he let it loose.

  “We had a fight that morning,” he said. “Before I left. A woman called and told Nina that she and I were having an affair. Nina confronted me about it.”

  “Was is true?” I asked.

  “Look,” Roy said, sitting forward in his chair. “Nina and I had our problems like any couple. But I loved her. I would never kill her. I have needs that she wasn’t able to meet.” He shrugged like that was the only explanation needed. “Nina could be cold. And I honestly didn’t think she’d care all that much. She was never exactly excited to burn up the sheets.”

  I’d never been a good poker player, and I knew there was no way I could mask my dislike for Roy Walsh, so I examined my fingernails until I thought I had my expression under control.

  “What happened when Nina confronted you?” Nash asked.

  Roy blew out a breath. “We had a big fight. Gina had told her that she was pregnant, and Nina was more angry about the thought of paying child support than she was about Gina. I don’t really remember what I told her. I was angry. I broke some of the breakfast dishes and stormed out of the house. Gina hadn’t told me about the baby, so I drove out to Nottingham to see her and hear the news face to face. I never wanted kids. She told me she was on the pill.”

  Roy sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest like a petulant child. Roy had a dead wife and a pregnant mistress he was probably going to leave high and dry, but somehow, he was the victim.

  “Can Gina verify this?” Nash asked.

  “She sure as hell better,” Roy said. “I was there about forty-five minutes or an hour. She showed me the pregnancy test, so I guess she wasn’t lying. After I left her apartment I drove straight to work. I punched in a little before eight thirty.”

  “Did you call in and tell anyone you’d be late?” Nash asked.

  “I called my captain as soon as I left the house. Told him I had to take care of an emergency personal matter.”

  “What’s Gina’s full name and address?” Nash asked.

  He hesitated again, and it was obvious he didn’t want to give up the information. “Gina Garcia. She lives in Sherbrook Heights in Nottingham. I don’t remember the address.”

  “That’s fine,” Nash said. “We’ll find her.”

  Nash looked at me again to see if I had anything to add.

  “Did Nina have products or medications that she used regularly?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “She didn’t take prescriptions regularly that I know of. She kept little tubes of hand lotion in her purse that she’d use. Lip balm. Things like that. She wasn’t much on makeup. She rarely wore any.”

  “Where were you planning to stay tonight?” Nash asked.

  “The Holiday Inn in King George. Gina told me I couldn’t stay with her. She’s pretty pissed.”

  “Has Gina ever been in this home?” I asked him.

  “No way,” Roy said. “I’m not stupid. I’d never take the chance of bringing Gina here. Nina would’ve known if another woman was in her house. Besides, Nina barely left the house. She was married to this house more than she was to me. I mostly met up with Gina at her place, or at Firehouse Movers. That’s my moving company. We’ve got an office in King George.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen it,” Nash said. “Who are your partners?”

  “Gabe Roland and Chance Walker. We’ve got a good business. Lots of good reviews.”

  “Did they know about Gina?” I asked.

  “Sure,” he said. “It’s not like it was a secret or anything. Just from Nina. The guys know not to blab about stuff like that. It’s part of the brotherhood. We do it all the time. You know how it is.”

  He nodded at Jack and Nash, and I had a feeling they knew exactly what he was talking about. I’d been around cops long enough to know that some of them put their law enforcement brothers above their own wives and children, especially when their behavior was less than stellar.

  “Do you think it’s possible Gina was jealous of Nina? That she wanted to do her harm?”

  “Nah, Gina’s been around the block. And the firehouse. Smokin’ hot, so it’s not like anyone would turn her down, you know? It is what it is. Nothing long term. She’ll move on to someone else when she gets tired of me. Badge bunnies are a dime a dozen.”

  “What about anyone else? Did Nina have a disagreement with anyone? Did she have any close friends?” I asked.

  “Nina was a loner for the most part. She sometimes met up with, ah…” He snapped his fingers a couple of times trying to remember. “Marilee Hedge-something. I think they went to school together. They’d have coffee.”

  Roy rolled his eyes. I didn’t think my dislike for him could get any bigger, but he kept proving me wrong.

  “Look,” he said. “I loved Nina. She was a good woman. Stable. Dependable. She didn’t make waves. She wasn’t full of drama or flashy. I hate to say it, but in a room of twenty people probably no one would notice if she was standing there. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to kill her. And I sure as hell didn’t kill her.”

  “Did Nina have a life insurance policy?” Nash asked.

  The flush that had started to dissipate spread back up his neck and chin. “She’s got a policy, but it’s not a big deal. Just a hundred thousand dollars. She had it long before we got married.”

  “Are you the beneficiary?” Nash asked.

  “Last time I checked,” Roy said. “Are we done here?”

  “I’m sure we’ll have some follow-ups once we check out your timeline,” Nash said. “When do you go on shift next?”

  “I don’t know,” Roy said. “The chief told me to take a couple weeks of leave and take care of whatever I needed to take care of.”

  Nash passed him a card. “Make sure you stick around. Call me if you think of anything.”

  Chapter Seven

  The long light of the summer day had finally stretched into darkness, and I looked down to see the time illuminated on my watch. There wasn’t much more we could do for the night, and the day was starting to catch up with me. I could feel the knots in my shoulders and the tightness in my back.

  Nash had decided to drive the tissue and blood samples to the lab in Richmond in the morning and wait for the results since time was of the essence when you were dealing with cyanide, which meant Jack and I were left to run down any leads.

  I hadn’t planned on Jack being at the Walsh house when the warrants were served, otherwise I would’ve driven myself in the Suburban. I couldn’t exactly ask Nash to drop me off at the house with Jack standing right there, so I sucked it up and went around to the passenger side of his Tahoe.

  I could’ve sworn I saw his lips twitch as he unlocked the doors and got in. Jack and I handled fights very differently. I had a tendency to isolate myself and let my anger fester until I exploded. Jack liked to antagonize and draw me back into the fight, but not so we could necessarily resolve anything.

  I’ll admit that I didn’t really want to fight with Jack. I missed him. And I knew the fight came from frustrations on both of our parts—things that were completely out of our control. We’d work it out. Eventually.

  “How’s Carver?” I asked. I kept my gaze straight ahead. It was easier that way.

  Jack started the car and pulled away from the Walsh house before he answered. “He’s stable. They took him back into surgery this morning and he did well. His chances are looking better and better. He’s got another surgery in the morning and another tomorrow afternoon.”

  I sighed and felt the knot in my chest release a little. You had to be alive to go to surgery, and as horrific as his injuries were, Carver could still be put back together so he could live a no
rmal life. I felt guilt for getting so caught up in Nina Walsh and the autopsy that I’d momentarily forgotten about Carver.

  “Speaking of Carver,” Jack said. “I set Michelle up in the guest room and told her to get a good night’s sleep. She’s exhausted.”

  I felt bad for being glad that Carver’s wife was staying with us. She was just another buffer between me and Jack. Between her and the cops keeping an eye on us, we wouldn’t be spending a lot of alone time together and the opportunities to discuss personal things would be scarce.

  “What do you think about Roy Walsh?” I asked.

  Jack grunted and turned onto Heresy Road. “I think he’s a narcissistic jackass who was probably torture to live with. But I’m not sure he killed his wife.”

  “Really?” I was surprised by that response. “He seems like exactly the kind of person who’d kill her like that and expect to get away with it.”

  “I don’t know,” Jack said. “Something just plays wrong about it. It’s more of a gut feeling. He’s a control freak. A bully. Arrogant. He definitely has a temper. A guy like that doesn’t seem like the type of person to poison his wife. I want to talk to the girlfriend and the business partners. Get a better picture of what he’s really like.”

  “That poison could’ve been in anything,” I said. “It’s going to be hard to track it down.”

  “They collected every pill bottle and hand lotion in the house. Nash will get answers. He’s like a pit bull with a bone between his teeth when he wants to be.”

  “So I discovered,” I said.

  Jack pulled into our driveway, and there was an unfamiliar dark blue Explorer in the driveway with rental car plates. There were no police cars in sight.

  “Martinez is inside, and he’s staying through the night. His POV is in the garage.”

  “The overtime has to be costing a fortune,” I said.

  “We’ve got the budget in the surplus account now,” he said. “Thank God that tax passed in November. It went into effect April 1, and it’s already given us the bump we’ve needed. I’ve been able to hire new deputies, and we’re in desperate need of a weapons upgrade and a new fleet of cars. That’s on my list for the end of the year.”