Deceptive Practices Page 15

  Roy laughed. “No. Not really.”

  She hated how Roy was being so goddamn genial when they both knew he’d kill her if it came down to it.

  “Where does she stand with the police?” he asked. “Is she a suspect?” Finally, Roy had come to the point. He wanted to know how close his ass was to the fire.

  “I don’t know. It’s not like they advertise.”

  “Very true.”

  “Look, why don’t you ask Olivia about all this? She knows far more than I do.”

  “I know, but it pays to have an outsider’s perspective.” He took a sip of his vodka. “I’ll be honest, I’m worried about Olivia. She has a tough road ahead of her, and she’s going to need our support if she’s going to pull through.”

  “That’s easy. Don’t ask her to kill anyone. Leave her be.”

  Roy squeezed out a politician’s plastic smile that wouldn’t convince the dumbest of voters. “I wish it was that easy. I have a job for you. I’d like you to keep me updated on her progress. Do you think you can do that?”

  “You want me to spy on Olivia? She’s my sister.”

  “I know, and I’m sure you want the best for her.”

  Roy reached inside his sports jacket and produced a cell phone. He put it on the coffee table between them and slid it toward her. He followed this by bringing out a wad of hundred-dollar bills. He peeled off one and placed it carefully next to the phone.

  “Don’t think of it as spying. Think of it as guardianship. Olivia needs someone to watch over her and prevent her from doing something stupid. It wouldn’t do either of us any good if she did. Naturally, I want to pay you for your time and expenses.”

  Clare’s gaze was on the money. Roy kept adding hundred-dollar bills to the pile. He stopped at $1,000. The money represented so many things. It was enough to get Gault off her back. Better still, it was fresh stake money. If she gave Gault $200 now, it would keep him quiet for a week. That left her the remaining $800 to play at the tables. It all looked pretty good from where she was sitting. She put her hand on the untidy pile of bills.

  Roy pressed his hand on top of hers. “Does that seem satisfactory to you?”

  The money was. Informing on Olivia wasn’t. Olivia was a bitch sometimes, but she’d always been there for her. Of course, Clare could take Roy’s money and just toss him a bone from time to time about what Olivia was doing. It’s not like it was a secret or anything, and the bonus was she’d get paid for doing it. The arrangement would work as long as he kept the cash coming. And he would. It was obvious that Richard’s death had put him in damage-control mode.

  “Yeah, it’s good with me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Clare came through for Olivia for once. She’d gotten Maxine Groves to agree to speak about Infidelity Limited. Maxine had set the time and place—two o’clock Saturday afternoon at her home.

  The mood between Olivia and her sister had remained tense since Clare had tried to shake her down for more money. They’d only spoken to each other twice since that night at Clare’s mobile home, and that was to set up this meeting.

  The frostiness between them carried over to their car ride. They rode in silence in Olivia’s car. Olivia didn’t like the ever-widening distance that had opened up between them. It meant that Clare had the potential to do something dumb. She’d go for a short-term solution to a long-term issue, and that would only serve to pour gasoline on an already-raging fire. When she was at her most desperate, she was at her most dangerous. They’d entered desperation mode a long time ago.

  Thankfully, it didn’t take long to reach their destination. Oakley was literally a backwater, with its close proximity to the sloughs peeling off from the Sacramento River. It was a farming community in the no-man’s-land between the East Bay and Stockton.

  Olivia’s GPS brought her to the rusted gates of an aged-looking property where Maxine Groves lived. A ranch house dating back to the fifties, judging by the unimaginative styling, sat at the end of a long driveway. Walnut trees lined either side of the drive, although they didn’t seem to be part of a grove for harvesting—just the remnant of what once was. There was a lot of what once was going on here. A handful of pigs and goats combed their pens for food. A barn in need of fresh shingles was home to a Toyota pickup and nothing else. All of it failed to raise Olivia’s hopes.

  She and Clare climbed from the car and walked up to the gate. It was locked with a chain thick enough to hold an anchor and a heavy-duty padlock suitable for protecting pirates’ treasure.

  Olivia didn’t like this. This woman was hiding herself away, but from whom—Infidelity Limited?

  Olivia hefted the padlock. “She doesn’t like visitors, that’s for sure. How do you know her?”

  “She was a Cache Creek regular.”

  A casino friend. That was an endorsement for reliability.

  Clare pulled out her cell and dialed a number. “We’re here, Maxine. Can you let us in?”

  A minute later, a woman emerged from the house carrying a shotgun, but the charging Rottweiler was the bigger concern.

  As the dog chewed up the distance to the gate, both Olivia and Clare backed up until they bumped into the Audi’s hood. Olivia was ready to dive into the car if the dog made a leap for the gate, but it stopped short and just paced back and forth. Its huffing and puffing drew a glance from the goats, but not the pigs.

  It took Maxine a minute to catch up. Olivia put Maxine in her fifties, average height, but slight. Her waist-length hair was mud brown, with silver streaks running through it. With no makeup on, her sun-damaged skin was exposed.

  “Quit it, Jack,” Maxine said, and the dog dropped to a sitting position.

  Maxine swung the shotgun at Olivia’s chest.

  Olivia raised her hands. Maxine didn’t frighten her; she was just being careful. If she’d gone through the Infidelity Limited wringer, then she was a woman worth listening to. The only thing that frightened Olivia was that this woman lived in fear.

  “Jesus, Maxine, that’s my sister,” Clare protested.

  “Is it? I don’t know that.”

  “Trust is an earned commodity,” Olivia said. “Will a driver’s license help?”

  “Yeah, but she gets it,” Maxine said and nodded at Clare.

  Clare grabbed Olivia’s purse from the car and pulled out her sister’s wallet.

  “That’ll do. I’ll take that,” Maxine said.

  Clare tossed it, and Maxine caught it one-handed, all without losing her aim on Olivia.

  “Jack, up,” Maxine commanded.

  The dog popped back up to his feet and resumed his pacing.

  Maxine backed up two steps and lowered the shotgun. She rifled through Olivia’s wallet, pulling out her license, credit cards, membership cards, and cash.

  “Satisfied?” Olivia asked. She injected authority into her question, but not contempt. She just needed Maxine to know she was no mouse.

  “For now.” She stuffed everything back into the wallet and tossed it over the gate between Olivia and Clare so it landed in the dirt.

  Just like the Rottweiler, Maxine was showing her dominance. Olivia accepted it and picked up her wallet.

  “Okay, you can come in, but you stay outside,” Maxine said, pointing to Clare.

  “What?” Clare said. “You know me, Maxine.”

  “I don’t like being outnumbered.”

  Olivia handed her wallet off to Clare. “It’ll be okay.”

  Olivia unlocked the gate with keys Maxine threw to her. Jack sidled up to her when she let herself in, but he dropped to his belly at Maxine’s instruction. Olivia repadlocked the gate and handed the keys back.

  The security was unnecessary. The chain and padlock might stop a cannonball, but the gate could be taken down with a good push. But safety had more to do with perception than actual security measures. If this pantomime made Maxine more talkative, then that was fine with Olivia.

  Maxine waved the gun up toward the house, and Olivia too
k the hint.

  They walked side by side. Maxine carried the shotgun across her chest, with the barrel casually aimed at Olivia, while Jack trailed behind them.

  “Do you really need the gun?”

  “Why don’t you let me worry about the gun and tell me why you’re here?”

  “I need information about Infidelity Limited.”

  “What phase are you at with them?”

  Tell or don’t tell? Olivia wondered. Maxine didn’t trust her, and she didn’t trust Maxine. She didn’t know what deal this woman had made with Infidelity Limited. She could rat Olivia out the second she left. Then again, hadn’t Olivia announced her intentions by being here?

  “Spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

  “My husband’s dead, and Roy has told me the facts of life about Infidelity Limited.”

  Maxine cut Olivia a sideways look. “I thought you must be in deep to come asking questions. Do you know who you have to kill yet?”

  “No.”

  “It doesn’t mean he’ll want you to kill someone tomorrow. It was over a year before he asked me.”

  While it would be nice if Roy didn’t call in his kill marker for a year or ten, she really didn’t want the threat hanging over her that long, never knowing when the phone might ring and he’d tell her it was time.

  “Did Clare get you into all this?”

  “How many people did you recommend to them?”

  “Don’t get snippy. It doesn’t suit you. I’m just saying I’m a little surprised she’d throw her sister to the wolves.”

  “I could say the same about you doing this to Clare.”

  “Clare and I aren’t family. We weren’t even all that friendly. At least, that’s what I tell myself. To be honest, you might say you wouldn’t wish Infidelity Limited on your worst enemy, but when there’s a gun pointed at your head, you’ll sell out just about anyone . . . even family.”

  Olivia wasn’t buying Maxine’s tough-gal act. “Is that why you didn’t invite Clare along—because you feel guilty about what you did to her?”

  Maxine laughed. “I could ask you why you haven’t put your sister’s head on a spike for dropping you down Infidelity Limited’s rabbit hole. I’m guessing she didn’t tell you what you were letting yourself in for. That’s got to sting. I dare you to tell me it doesn’t still stick in your throat.”

  Olivia didn’t argue the point. “Clare is helping me. That goes a long way toward making up for this.”

  Maxine’s expression said she didn’t quite believe her. Olivia wasn’t sure she believed herself either.

  “Look, I’m way past shame and embarrassment, but your sister gave me up,” Maxine said. “She broke the golden rule—you live with the lie. I don’t like that. It means I can’t trust her. It means she can stay out there.”

  “Still, you let me come here.”

  “I thought I could help you.”

  They reached the house, but Maxine didn’t let Olivia inside. Instead, they sat down at a picnic table in the shade of the walnut trees. Maxine rested the shotgun against the side of the table, out of Olivia’s reach. Jack sat next to Maxine, and she petted the dog’s bulbous head.

  The air was still. Every sound carried on it, from the chirrup of crickets to the drone of distant traffic. Sitting here, Olivia felt at peace and understood why Maxine would choose to live out here. Olivia’s familiar surroundings had taken on a claustrophobic feel. Here, she felt free.

  “Okay,” said Olivia. “Tell me how you got involved.”

  “Much like you did. I was having problems with a husband that drank too much. A friend told me about Infidelity Limited. They were supposed to knock a little sense into him. Instead, I got a call to come out to the marshes not far from here to come get my husband. His neck was broken.” Maxine palmed away a tear. “Roy told me Infidelity Limited doesn’t rehabilitate, they eliminate. He handed me a shovel and told me to dig. I dug a grave and buried my husband.”

  Olivia reached out a comforting hand, but Maxine pulled back. “So Infidelity Limited killed your husband. Was there a police investigation?”

  “Of sorts. I reported Brian missing. He’s still a missing person’s case.” Maxine shook her head. “Roy told me Infidelity Limited is a cooperative and I would never know who killed Brian. He also told me I’d need to kill someone else’s spouse. I wouldn’t know who or when until the call came. It’s the anonymity that makes the system work.”

  But not perfectly, Olivia thought. Maxine’s story hadn’t been quite the same as hers, but she guessed that in her case, the botched killing had brought out the police. Maxine had been lucky in that respect. She never had to feel the squeeze of the police.

  “Did you get that call?” Olivia asked.

  Maxine dropped her gaze. “Yes.”

  “When?”

  “Two years ago.”

  “Did you do it?”

  Maxine grabbed the picnic table. “Yes, I did it. I killed someone.”

  Jack howled, and Maxine backhanded him into silence. The dog dropped to his belly with shame on his face.

  “What is it you want to know?” Maxine barked.

  “I’m just trying to figure out how this chain works.”

  “Do you think you’re the first person to think you can get to Infidelity Limited if you backtrack far enough? Wise up, girl. It’s not a chain. Haven’t you worked that out yet? There’s no sequence to this. The person who introduces you isn’t the person who kills your spouse. It doesn’t work like that. It’s random. Client J introduces Client K, and Client K kills Client R’s spouse and so on. There’s no chain. No circle. No pattern. And even if you could work out the connections, how long has this been going on for—years? There are dozens of victims, if not hundreds. You’ll never get to someone who knows how to get to these people. I know, because I’ve tried, just like every other sucker. My advice is simple: do as you’re told. Kill the person Roy tells you to kill, and don’t get caught doing it. That’s the only way you’ll survive this nightmare.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Olivia was at home, working on arrangements for Richard’s funeral, when the Infidelity Limited cell phone rang. Her stomach turned at the sound of its ring echoing through the house. Every call was bad news, dragging her deeper into Roy’s abyss. As much as she didn’t want to answer his call, she needed to. Roy was a blank sheet. She couldn’t beat him without knowing something about him. Though he tried to distance himself from his victims, every interaction with him afforded her the chance to add another detail to that blank sheet. The more she knew, the easier it would be to bring him and Infidelity Limited down. She pulled the cell from her purse and answered it.

  “You alone?” he asked.

  Her heart was pounding. “Yes.”

  “Good. Where are you?”

  “At home.”

  “Do you know where the Tilden merry-go-round is?”

  It was interesting that he called it the “merry-go-round.” He wasn’t wrong, but locals called the Berkeley landmark the “carousel.” So Roy was an out-of-towner. She banked that nugget of information. “Yes.”

  “Go there now,” he said and hung up.

  No preamble. Not even a threat. Just an instruction to keep her on her toes, the Infidelity Limited way. No time to think or turn to someone for help. But that was the point, wasn’t it? Keep the victim in the moment. It was Roy’s way of keeping control. All she could do was follow.

  She didn’t bother with a purse. She just jammed cash, a credit card, and her ID into her pockets. Before she got behind the wheel of her car, she called Andrew on her cell.

  “He called. He wants to meet now.” She hated the shakiness in her voice.

  “Okay, we were expecting this. Where?”

  “The Tilden carousel.”

  “Shit. I’m in Antioch. I can’t back you up.”

  “You shouldn’t anyway. He’ll put me through the wringer like he’s done every other time.”

  “You’re p
robably right. Nervous?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. He’ll be expecting that. Just remember the plan—agree to everything, and learn all that you can.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Call me afterward.”

  She promised she would and hung up. She couldn’t afford to stay on the phone. Roy would have no doubt calculated the time it would take for her to get from her house to the carousel. She’d set his suspicion detector off if she was late.

  The sight of Richard’s car parked next to hers in the garage reminded her of her crime. She wanted to sell it, but she couldn’t. Not yet. She needed to be reminded of her mistake. The car would go when Roy was finished.

  She pulled out and checked the street for one of Roy’s people—or worse, one of Finz’s. All she needed was the police following her. She took comfort in the fact that Roy would blow off the meeting if he got a whiff of the cops.

  Tilden Park was a thirty-minute drive, which was another indicator of Roy’s control. The lack of notice and the close proximity robbed her of the chance to set something up from her side. All she could do was comply with his demands. The balance of power sat with him. She couldn’t wait until the arrangement got reversed.

  She arrived to find the carousel parking lot deserted, which wasn’t surprising on a school day. She called Roy. The call went to voice mail.

  “I’m here.”

  She was used to Roy’s moves now. Just like with the meetings at the mall and Mount Diablo, this stop would be the first in a series of hoops for her to jump through. The first hoop was the waiting game. An hour dragged its feet, and nothing happened. Each minute she sat there was infuriating, but she kept her cool like a good little victim. No doubt Roy had his eyes on her. Calling Andrew would just play into Roy’s hands.

  It was two hours before a black van rolled into the parking lot and pulled up next to her driver’s side door. The side door slid open, and Dolores from the ladies’ room at the mall filled the space. Olivia climbed from her car. The second she was out, Dolores grabbed her and dragged her inside the van. She entered with so much force that she bounced off the panels on the opposite side of the vehicle.