Hair of the Dog (17 page)

Chapter Twenty

The text was brief and had been sent last night.

Last minute decision. Actually a birthday surprise—I have no idea where we're going. Stanley got a wonderful deal on a cruise and we're off. Love to you both.
Dan read the message again. His mother's birthday was March 2. Unless he was greatly mistaken this was still October. His mother's furniture had arrived two days ago. What was this about wanting her things around her? Was this why she didn't have a problem with Daisy going back to her real owner? She knew she wasn't in a position to have a dog? His mother could be changeable—sometimes did things more on a whim than solid reasoning, but a cruise?
Another
cruise? Would this be the fifth one in a little over six months?

He dialed her number. And waited. Odd, for some reason it wasn't going to voicemail. Oh well, he'd just answer the text:

Hey, this is a surprise. Let us know when you land somewhere. And have a great time.

Elaine offered to go back to the track with him to deliver Daisy. She, at least, was going to miss the dog. And so would Simon. Dan had never thought of getting a companion dog for the big rottweiler, but Simon had certainly warmed up to Daisy. Once they got a house that could be something to consider. Dan wouldn't feel so guilty having to leave him alone so much. Speaking of which, bringing Daisy and leaving him behind today hadn't set well. He knew he wasn't imagining the howling as they pulled out of the drive.

“Dan, watch out.”

The sheriff's cruiser fish-tailed and had two tires in their lane before straightening out and roaring past just as they turned onto the gravel road that led to the casino. No lights and no siren, just in a godawful hurry to get somewhere. And Dan thought he'd recognized Officer Bartlett.

“Oh no, what do you think happened?” The scene in front of them was barely controlled chaos.

Dan pulled the Land Rover to the side of the parking lot. Not that he could go much further due to the police tape and SWAT-mobile and four cruisers sitting in front. “It's something big.”

“There's Scott Ramsey. Maybe I can find out something.” Elaine stepped out, then turned back, “Should I take Daisy?”

“She'll be all right here. Let's leave her until we know what's going on.” Dan lowered all the windows before locking the car and joining Elaine.

Whatever had happened, it seemed to be over. Law enforcement was standing around along with casino workers. Probably a bomb threat, Dan thought. He watched as Elaine waved to a man at the edge of a group of officers who then broke away and walked toward them. Wow. That's all Dan could think of. This was the guy that Elaine was doing surveillance with in a parked car in the dead of night? Tee-shirt hugged ripped abs, jacket barely covered well-developed traps and stretched across bulging deltoids, and his thighs? Well, in all likelihood the jeans weren't spray-painted on and only looked like it. This guy was built and Dan wasn't exactly sure how he felt about all that.

“Dan? Scott Ramsey. Sorry, but I think you've missed all the excitement. Actually, so did the rest of us.” He looked back at the casino. “Second time we've had false information.”

“Concerning?”

“Money-laundering. We fully expected to storm the place and find around five hundred thousand in cash. Supposedly brought in less than twenty-four hours ago. But if it was here—and we have reason to believe it was—someone tipped off the casino and it's been moved.”

“So, there's someone on the inside?”

“Looks that way. We're beginning to get a black eye over it. Too much crying ‘wolf' with nothing to prove. Consumer advocates are going to nail us on the cost. Getting all this fire-power out here on the taxpayers' nickel gets damned expensive. Plus, this is the third time in the last year we've just missed a shipment.”

“The ‘we' means the Bureau?”

“Elaine probably told you I retired a few years back. Actually, I'm enjoying teaching and doing a little PI work. Of course, the powers who be still consider this my territory so I get called upon to lend a hand now and then.”

“Money laundering sort of screams ‘Mafia.'”

“Yeah. Great place for it. Out-of-the-way casino, a small operation not on Indian land but with enough traffic to move things in and out. In reasonable amounts. They're not trying to move a few million—conservatively a few hundred thousand. Perfect setup in a lot of ways.”

“What do you think happens to the money if it isn't laundered here?”

“It finds its way out of the country. Foreign businesses. An international electronics firm was a repository until recently.”

“Seems like a pretty sophisticated operation.”

“Sophisticated enough to keep us guessing and a couple of steps behind.”

“No ideas on a kingpin? It would seem like there needs to be some sort of central control or directives given by one person?” Elaine voiced what Dan was thinking.

“I agree. Apparently, they change up their method of delivery. Our informant never has advance knowledge of a shipment. Nothing more than a few hours. And it would appear that one person is in charge of orchestrating that.”

Was Scott dodging sharing information? Seemed that way, Dan thought.

Then a deep breath, and “I probably should say that we're looking at ‘retired' Mafia. Those either relocated to the area or in prison in the state. Your mother's boyfriend is new on the scene and other than being a bit of a lothario, he seems to be minding his own business.”

“What about Tony Falco?” Elaine was remembering the posturing and proclamation of telling her what to do—not just suggesting.

“Interesting. He's top of our list. How do you know Tony?”

Elaine explained how she'd volunteered with the Prison Greyhound group and met him on a visit to Pensacola.

“The prison—if you can even call it that—is so open. It would seem that you'd know immediately if there were messages going in and out.”

“Not really. All mail is opened, private phones are not allowed, and public phones are monitored. There's no easy way for anyone inside to communicate with someone on the outside.”

“So just who is this Tony Falco?” Dan was wondering if he should have paid more attention to Elaine's comments about the guy.

“Second-string Mafia. Took the fall for someone above him on a drug trafficking charge. Pulled seven years at a minimum-security lockup. He'll be taken care of. Probably worth seven in exchange for how his family's being treated while he's on the inside. And in prison he's become this big frog in a little puddle—we suspected him of being the mastermind behind an offshore gambling operation earlier this year but couldn't prove it.”

“But you think he's behind money moving through here?”

“He's probably our best guess. We just don't know how he's pulling the strings. We've set up people on the inside to buddy-up but Tony isn't sharing. We'll keep at it. You guys here for the races? Don't think they're going to start up again much before three.”

“Just here to drop off a dog.” Dan briefly explained the circumstances. “Any chance we could get in to see Dixie Halifax?”

“Things are probably a little crazy inside. The kennel's up and running, leave the dog there. I'll make sure Ms. Halifax knows where to find her.”

***

The mournful whining was almost too much to take. Daisy reluctantly went into a crate then turned and sat down by the door. And cried. Elaine was beside herself. “We can't just leave her. She thinks she's being abandoned.”

“Not sure I know what we can do. Wait. Let me see if Mel is here.” If she was working, Dan knew she'd make time for the dog. He called the reception area and had Mel paged. She called back right away. Not a problem, she'd be over after she finished lunch. She'd give Daisy a good long walk and make sure Dixie knew where to pick her up. And she couldn't congratulate Dan enough on finding Daisy, aka ShebaTwo. This was just the best news and made her believe that he'd find the others. Dan could only hope so. He still had Fucher working on recorded races but there hadn't been any new sightings.

“I still hate to leave her.” Elaine made the mistake of looking back when she reached the door. Daisy was quiet but looked dejected, head hanging, ears drooping.

“We don't have much of a choice.” Dan wished there could have been a different ending to the adoption, but he didn't look back.

***

There were still people milling around the parking lot when they reached the SUV. Fewer agents and cops but Scott Ramsey was there and gave them a wave.

“Did your mother ever text back?” Elaine voiced what he was thinking—why hadn't she gotten back?

“Nope. Not a word. Of course, if they've just boarded they may not have access to Wi-Fi.”

“Dan, I don't want to be an alarmist but is there any way we could make certain she's on a cruise?”

“I'm thinking the same thing. I don't have a good feeling about this.” He reached in the glove compartment for his iPad. “We could start with travel agencies.”

Chapter Twenty-one

After a salad at Frappes in Ormond they divided up the eight travel agencies that specialized in cruises listed in the local on-line yellow pages, sat in the parking lot, and called every one. Nothing. No Margaret Mahoney and Stanley Evers traveling from Florida to anywhere. Next Elaine went online with her iPhone and Dan with his iPad and they did the same with direct booking cruise lines. Bingo. Mr. and Mrs. Evers—Dan tried not to cringe—left Fort Lauderdale at seven yesterday morning on a one-hundred-and-eleven-day world cruise. He thanked the booking agent and hung up.

Something was very, very wrong. For starters—one hundred eleven days. Wasn't that over three months? What was his mother thinking? In fact, it didn't sound like her at all. She simply wouldn't take off for that length of time—not without saying something and making plans first. You didn't go on that kind of trip with forty-eight hours' notice. At least not his mother. She could reason and plan things to death. There was nothing spur-of-the-moment about Maggie Mahoney.

So how could he find out for certain that Mr. and Mrs. Evers were truly where they were supposed to be? He could pretend there was a family emergency and have the company contact them. He called the agency back. Yes, of course, they could help him. They were so sorry that there was an emergency and hoped it was not life-threatening. If he could hold, the company would contact the ship's captain and set up a time for Mrs. Evers to call the states—ship to shore.

The agent sounded young but competent, “Would six Eastern Standard Time be convenient for your mother to call you back? They're at sea now but are scheduled to dock around four.”

“That would be fine,” Dan checked his watch. Just after noon, six hours to wait but he was toying with the idea of going to The Villages. Maybe she'd talked to a neighbor, left a list for someone taking care of her house…He had no idea what he would find but he suddenly felt the need to keep busy.

“I'm sorry about this extra work,” he told the agent. “My mother's spur-of-the-moment trip unfortunately came at a bad time.”

“Did you say spur-of-the-moment? Oh no, Mr. Evers booked this cruise over two months ago.”

Dan was stunned, “Are you certain?”

“Oh, absolutely. He was on our hold list for over six months waiting on a cancellation. This is a very popular cruise. Your mother and her husband were very fortunate to get a spot.”

Dan felt sick but left his number and Elaine's before hanging up.

“Why didn't she say anything? And then to adopt a dog…”

Dan nodded and knew he'd have a difficult time waiting until six that evening.

“Didn't she say it was a surprise? A birthday surprise?”

“Yeah, I'd forgotten. But three months early? With a truckload of household goods to put away…I can't imagine he'd just assume she'd go.” Dan thought for a minute. “Do you have plans for the afternoon?”

“No. What are you thinking of?”

“A trip to The Villages.”

***

He didn't like the place any better the second time. And he had no idea what he expected to find. But then he realized he didn't even have his mother's address. Phone listings revealed only a handful of realtors within the community, and he found the one who had worked with his mother on the third try. Then a tiny fib—his mother had left on a cruise and he needed to pick up her car. Not a problem. If he could run by the office, she'd have a duplicate key ready.

The townhouse was perfect—perfect in size at around eighteen-hundred square feet with a small fenced backyard, on a corner so neighbors were only on one side and in back. The generous side yard along the street sported mature trees—a couple of palms and an oak laden with Spanish moss. Clematis on trellises, petunias in beds and in hanging pots gave the place that
Better Homes and Garden
look. He idly wondered if she had a neighbor watering plants while she was gone. Had she contacted anyone to keep an eye on the place?

He unlocked the front door. The house was hot, stuffy, and the smell of rotting garbage was overwhelming. Boxes were stacked three and four deep and furniture haphazardly piled together in the living room and dining room. The bed frame in the master bedroom was leaning against the wall with the mattress and box springs balanced against it. Elaine quickly checked the guest room and found the same arrangement—non-functional beds, furniture just pushed through the door. An Armoire kitty-corner to the bed but well away from the wall, pushed through the doorway and then abandoned.

“I don't think anyone's been here for days.” Elaine covered her mouth and nose against the ripe garbage.

“I'll take care of the smell.” Dan walked toward the kitchen—easy to find in the open, circular floor plan—and located the offending plastic bag next to the sink. He tied the bag shut, removed it from the plastic container and left the cabinet door open to air out. A quick search of the garage found the city-issued rollaway receptacle with a tight-fitting lid. He had no idea what day was earmarked for pickup in this area but maybe he could find a neighbor to ask.

“Monday. And they come early…sometimes seven. If the lid fits tightly, you could put it out the night before. But the city is very wary of attracting birds. One time I had four turkey vultures going through a weekend's barbeque throwaways. It was awful. Took me the entire morning to pick up after them.”

Dan had knocked on the door of the house to the north and hadn't been disappointed. The woman who introduced herself as “Claire” seemed willing to chat.

“I didn't know your mother, of course. She seemed very nice—always waved when she saw me, but we never talked.”

“Do you know if she might have talked with someone else in the neighborhood?”

“Well, perhaps Tom Fitch. He lives in back.” Claire stepped out of the doorway and pointed to the house behind his mother's. “He's such a busybody. You know the type—everybody's business is his business. I saw him over next door when your mother's furniture came.”

Dan thanked Claire, excused himself and walked through his mother's backyard to the lot and house behind. Interesting, but Tom Fitch must have seen him coming because he suddenly popped out the back door and rushed up, hand extended.

“You just have to be Dan.” A singularly vigorous pumping of Dan's hand and then the smallish man stepped back. “Your mother's not home, you know.”

“Yes, she said she was leaving on a cruise. Did she mention anything to you? Like who might be looking after the house.”

“Your father asked me to do that. Just the small stuff—collect the paper and the mail.”

Dan felt himself visibly wince but didn't try to correct the “father” misconception. Too complicated. “Did he say when they'd be back?”

“Oh my, the cruise is a long one. I think it must have been a total surprise to your mother—a bribe, so to speak. You know, offered out of guilt.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, I don't want you to get the idea that I listen in on my neighbors…”

“But you heard something?” Geez this man could be irritating.

“Two, three nights ago? They had a fight. A doozy of one.”

“Could you hear what about?”

“Mostly your mother wanting her own place. The reason she moved in here. Apparently she rented the house without your father knowing it. Had plans of forcing a separation. She said she just didn't want to live with him anymore. There was, um, a rather loud discussion of supposed indiscretions—his dallying with someone—you know, behind her back. He denied it, but personally I didn't feel he was very convincing—I have to say I took her side. It also seemed like she'd ticked him off by snooping through his things—don't know what exactly she was looking for—probably trying to get the goods on the lady he was seeing. Of course, your dad was steamed—likes his privacy—but who doesn't? Honestly? I think he had a point. Key to a lasting marriage? Have a few secrets. Doesn't hurt to keep a little mystery in place. Maybe if she hadn't found out about the other woman, they might still be living together.”

Dan didn't care about his opinion, “How were things left?”

“They both stormed off in her car.”

“And this was two nights ago?”

Tom nodded, “Maybe, three. Yeah, more like three.”

“And you haven't seen them since?”

“Nope. Not around here. I take it they've already left on the cruise—isn't that what you said? Believe me, it was the least your father could do after all that fighting. But I'm not sure—”

“Are you saying that you don't think they've gone? According to the travel agency they boarded the cruise in Fort Lauderdale two days ago.”

“Well, it just seems odd to me that there wasn't any luggage. I never saw either one of them come back to the house. Not that night, not the next morning, or the next. And a three-month plus trip requires stuff—lots of it. It would have taken my poor dead wife a year to plan and six months to pack.” A laugh, then, “I don't want to sound an alarm or anything. But, you know, just saying.”

Too late, an alarm had been sounded—at least one was going off in his head. Big-time. A fight and no luggage? Three days ago? His mother could never have prepared for that kind of trip without substantial notice—surprise makeup gesture or not. He asked Tom to set the garbage out and bring the container in—Dan would leave the garage open. Then, he gave Tom his card and a hundred dollars to water plants and keep the lawn mowed. He wasn't sure what arrangements his “father” had made, but a little payment in advance never hurt.

Elaine met him at the kitchen door. “Her car's gone and there's a complete set of luggage empty and sitting in the guest bedroom. Dan, I really don't like this.”

Dan nodded, “Guy in back says they had a fight. Overheard Stanley go ballistic about Mom snooping through his things. And I guess Mom wasn't too happy about Stanley seeing someone else. Apparently they left in her car.”

“When was this?”

“Three days ago.”

“Do you think they ended up at Stanley's?”

“I have no idea but we need to find out.”

Another quick call to the realtor—Mom was supposed to have left her car at the townhouse but apparently forgot and took it to Stanley's—and they had the address, combination to the gate and a key to the front door in no time—thank God, Stanley and his mother had worked with a realtor.

***

Mom's Lexus SUV was in the drive. Dan pulled in alongside. Maybe, just maybe, she hadn't gone on the cruise—no, the booking was for two. And there had been the text. Dan simply couldn't get his hopes up and he knew he was just trying to shut down the panic. The feeling in his gut that was beginning to mimic the flu.

“Maybe—” Elaine began.

“Don't even say it.” He took her hand. “Whatever we're facing, I'm glad that you're here.” He drew her to him and just held her. Dread was making him put off even getting out of the car, let alone going into the house.

“Get the fuck out of this car.” Two large fists slammed against the passenger-side window. Elaine shrieked and Dan was out of the car, gun drawn. If retrieving a firearm from the glove box and exiting a car in record time was an Olympic event, he'd just gotten all tens.

“Step away from the car.”

“Not until you tell me who you are.” The man's face was flushed bright red—anger? Booze? He guessed a little of both. The guy was big, probably had twenty pounds and fifteen years on Dan.

“I'm looking for my mother. This is her car.” Dan pointed to the Lexus.

“Well, you won't find her here. That son of a bitch ran off with my wife. Just took off. Made her cut her hair and dye it red. Looked like a cheap whore.” Then instead of just stepping away from the car, he crumpled to the ground sobbing. “I don't know what to do. I gave her a good life. Thirty-six years. Do you believe that? A lifetime and she runs off with some gigolo.” Elaine was out of the car and helping the man up. “I knew things weren't right but don't two people work things out? Give it a try anyway. She told me she wasn't seeing this guy anymore. I thought it was over. Last year I caught 'em up in Palm Coast. His wife had just died, for God's sake. I laid the law down then and things died down. Next thing I know he's moved down here. I knew it'd started up again. I paid to have her followed but she said she was only helping him move in. That I wasted my money and it served me right for not trusting her—then she takes off.” Dan heard Elaine making soothing sounds and watched as she helped him cross the driveway and go back into his house.

Dan turned away. Red hair? Stanley made the man's wife look like his mother. And a haircut? She was about the same height—five-foot five, according to Elaine's report. It would be total camouflage. Anyone seeing them at a distance would easily mistake her for Maggie. Was the woman traveling with Maggie's passport? In all likelihood. Had Stanley always planned on taking the world cruise with the neighbor's wife? And that's why it had been planned six months ago? And he only picked up Dan's mother when he thought the affair was over? Was that why he'd moved to The Villages? Hoping the affair could be rekindled? But keeping his mother in tow just in case it couldn't?

One way or another at this point it was fairly obvious that his mother was expendable. Stanley had killed her because he caught her snooping and needed her out of the way. But he also needed to cover up the deed—throw Dan off the trail by making him think his mother was alive and well. What better way to do that than leaving town with a Maggie-lookalike? One who would occasionally text and send pictures of the cruise and continue the ruse. Until they were safely in some foreign country that didn't have an extradition treaty. Far-fetched? No, not at all.

Now the gnawing in the pit of his stomach felt more like an open wound. He took the front steps of Stanley's house in twos, and by the time he was turning the key in the lock, Elaine was right behind him.