Act Normal, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 9

heat."

  "All right. What do you want me to do?"

  "After the arraignment, go up to the Collin County Sheriff's office and post Mrs. Wenzel's bond. Bring her back to my office when she gets out."

  "All right."

  I handed Roger the key to the safety deposit box where I had stashed the money along with a stack of 250 one-hundred dollar bills. Roger took it and smiled broadly.

  "You won't be able to get into the safety deposit box,” I said. “because it's in my name; but I won't be able to get into it either because you have the key."

  "How do I know the money is there?"

  "I put it in the bank across the street. We can go over there now and you can count it."

  "Couldn't you go to the bank and claim you'd lost the key?"

  "I could but that would be a lot of hassle and require me to swear falsely. That would be a federal offense and you could blow the whistle on me. I think you know I couldn't afford that to happen."

  "I trust you, Stan. I just have to be careful. This business is my only livelihood."

  "No problem. I totally understand. I want you to be comfortable with the arrangement."

  We went to the bank and Roger counted the money. When he was satisfied it was all there, he set off to post Charlotte Wenzel's bond. That gave me just enough time to brief Paula on the new developments and tell her to be expecting Charlotte at the office. In the meantime I needed to find Mo. He had a lot of explaining to do.

  10

  Working Together

  Paula Waters

  Stan's unexpected call about Charlotte's arrest appalled me. I couldn't believe even Gary Shepard could be so cruel to arrest her just after seeing her daughter lying on a table in the morgue. Stan asked me to handle the arraignment and take Charlotte home after she got out on bond. He said to tell her he'd be in touch soon. I was surprised Stan asked me to do this. He hadn't let me get near Charlotte's case since the day Bart had been fired. I guess he felt so badly about what had happened, he didn't want me to be reminded of it.

  It was nearly seven o'clock when Roger Rand finally got Charlotte to the office. She was an emotional wreck. Luckily Roger had kept her out of the general population at the jail so she hadn't been assaulted or harassed by inmates; but she was emotionally distraught over seeing her daughter's body and knowing it was likely her other children were dead too. I took her home and called her friend Janet Kaufman who agreed to come over to her house and stay with her.

  Since it was late, I called home to tell Bart I was on my way. He said he had an appointment to see Colonel Richmond and that I should meet him there. He gave me the address. I wondered how fruitful talking to Richmond would be. If he had any sense, he wouldn't talk to us. When I got there he and Bart were sitting on the front porch talking like they were best buddies. I walked up to them. Bart stood up.

  "Colonel, this is my wife Paula Waters. We're working on this case together."

  Colonel Richmond nodded but didn't get up. Bart motioned for me to take a seat next to him. "The colonel was just telling me about the fire," Bart advised.

  I nodded. "Go on. I'd like to hear about that."

  Colonel Richmond continued. "It was right about bedtime when I smelled smoke. We usually go to bed at eleven. I asked my wife if she had left something on the stove, but she assured me she hadn't, so I went out in the back yard. The smell was stronger outside and I quickly saw that the smoke was coming from the Brown's house."

  "So, what did you do?" Bart asked.

  "I didn't fiddle," Richmond said, "if that's what you think."

  "Fiddle?" Bart asked.

  "You know. I didn't fiddle while Rome burned. I called the fire department for godsakes. What do you think I did? If his house was burning, my house could have easily gone up in smoke too. These are zero lot lines homes. If one burns they all burn."

  "But that didn't happened," I noted.

  Richmond looked at me like I was a lunatic. "No. It didn't because I got my hose out and sprayed my roof and the side of the house. I'd be damned if I'd let my house burn on account of that asshole."

  "Are you referring to Mr. Brown?"

  "Yes, Mr. Brown. That son of a bitch brought this on himself by being selfish and obstinate. He knew what the rules were when he bought the condo but he didn't care about any of us. He just had to put that god awful fence up. He's as guilty of murdering his family as the person who set the fire."

  Colonel Richmond's attitude about the Browns was difficult to understand. He seemed to be blaming the family's death on Chester Brown, one of the victims, rather than the arsonist who set the fire. I wondered if that was intentional. Was he trying to bolster up his own alibi by reporting the fire himself and then stating the obvious that his home had been at great risk too?

  "Do you think he could have anticipated that someone would burn down his house over a fence?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know. People expect the rules to be followed."

  "Did you see anyone loitering around the Brown property or in the neighborhood before the fire broke out?"

  "No. I reckon not. Course I can't say that I was paying that much attention. I usually work in the garage during the afternoon. I've got a couple carpentry projects that keep me pretty busy."

  "I understand you were considering filing a lawsuit against the Browns over the fence," Bart said.

  "You're damn right I was. That's my job as chairman of the architectural control committee. If people don't follow the rules, then I take them to court."

  "But that would have cost money and taken you away from your carpentry," Bart noted. "A fire is much cheaper and more effective."

  Colonel Richmond stood up and glared at Bart. "I suspect you ought to leave now. I've told you all I know."

  I looked at Bart trying hard not to smile. He'd taken a bite at the Colonel and drawn blood. I just hoped the Colonel didn't have a revolver laying around; or a match. The door slammed hard behind us and I burst out laughing. Bart looked back and then at me.

  "What's so funny?"

  "You handled that like a prosecutor."

  "Well, that's what I am; or used to be."

  "I know. But defense work is different. You don't want to go around making enemies. Now the Colonel won't give us the time of day and he'll be expecting us to try and blame the fire on him."

  "Damn. I guess you're right. It's going to take me a while to get used to being a defense counsel."

  I took Bart's hand. "It's okay. I don't think Colonel Richmond did it. It's just too convenient. If he was going to set fire to the Brown's home, he'd have arranged to be out of town or at least miles away when it happened."

  "I'm not so sure," Bart replied. "Sometimes we don't see what's right in front of our face."

  "So, what now? We have two suspects without alibis," I said.

  "We keep digging," Bart said. "I'll start looking into Mr. Brown and his family. Maybe you should get the roster of the homeowner's association and start talking to the other members. Somebody might know something."

  I nodded. "Sounds like a plan; but right now I'm kind of hungry. You feel like a steak?"

  "Yeah," Bart replied. "Outback is on the way home."

  "That’s right. I'll meet you there."

  We both got in our cars and took off. It was fun working a case with Bart. It made life so much easier. In the past we were always being torn away from each other by our work, but now the opposite was true. Every day we seemed to get closer and closer. In retrospect, I could almost thank Stan for getting Bart fired.

 

  11

  Malfunction

  Stan Turner

  After I hung up the phone with Paula, I called Mo. While I was waiting for him to return the call, I went into another bar. This one was called "The Hole." The name turned out to be quite appropriate but I wasn't looking for ambiance, so I found an empty stool and took a seat. I needed another drink and I was sure the booze here would taste about the same as it did anywhere else. Whil
e I was drinking a woman sat down next to me and asked if I was looking for company. I said no, but she hung around anyway. She made several attempts to start a conversation, but I was in no mood to talk, so I ignored her. All I wanted to do was talk to Mo. Why hadn't the bastard returned my call!

  I studied my cell phone and wondered if I could have missed the call. Had my battery gone dead? The indicator said my batter was low, but still had a little juice. Finally I realized Mo and Kulchz already knew that I was on to them. I couldn't believe they’d deceive me the way they had. I guessed they’d thought the body wouldn't be discovered and I'd never be the wiser. I wondered what went wrong—why Jill was dead. What did this mean? Was everything they told me a lie? I reached in my pocket and pulled out the telepathic modulator. The TM, as Mo called it, looked like an oversized cigarette lighter. He had given it to me when I was recruited by the CIA for this project. He said if I ever needed help to squeeze it and my thoughts and needs would be communicated instantaneously to a support team that was always standing ready nearby for any eventuality.

  I turned the object round and round in my hand and wondered what would happen if I squeezed it. Was there a penalty for sending out a false alarm? I was about to try it out when I remembered Peter. If I screwed up my assignment, they might take my failure out on him, or if not him, on the other members of my family.

  "Can I have a light," the woman said extending a cigarette hanging loosely from her lips. She may have been a looker in her prime, but those days had long passed. I looked at her and then down at the telepathic modulator. I started to