The next day I did an internet search for all the newspapers around. The Virginian-Pilot covered the area I was looking for.
The newspaper office was on Brambleton Avenue near the Scope Arena, home of the Norfolk Admirals hockey team. I wandered in and bought some back issues. After that, I went over to Pagoda Garden. It’s a little park north of where the USS Wisconsin is docked as a museum ship. I found a bench and spread out my newspapers.
After a few minutes, I found what I was looking for. Steven Janes, age 43, of Virginia Beach, had disappeared. It was suspected that he had gone jogging in First Landing State Park. There was a picture included.
That did it. I called Neil.
“I have a newspaper article here that describes a man who went missing at the same time and place that Cash told me about. The date lines up with when Tabitha’s car went into the repair shop.”
He sighed heavily. “I really don’t know what to do. I suppose I’ll have to talk to her.”
Surprising myself, I said, “I’ve got a picture of the man here. I could go talk to her and explain what she needs to do.”
“That might be best. Please have her call me.”
My business was through. I was stupid to keep working on it, especially because I wasn’t getting paid. However, I tore the picture out and carried it with me. The newspapers were of no use anymore, so I left them on the bench.
On the way to Tabitha’s office, I rehearsed what I was going to say. It wasn’t easy. Hi, I think you may have splattered a pedestrian.
I got there at about a quarter to three and went into the building. The third floor where Tabitha worked was one large open space with a line of private offices around the outside near the windows and cubicles in the center. I didn’t see anyone who was obviously in charge.
A woman in a cubicle near the door noticed me. She wore some kind of glasses that had lenses that turned up and came to a point at the temples. They were red. Nothing else in her outfit matched the eyeware.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I need to speak with Tabitha Larson.”
“Why?”
“I’m a private investigator working for her husband. I’ve got some important things to discuss about the case.”
“What sort of things?”
I stared at her, annoyed. “That’s private.”
“Couldn’t you do that over the phone?”
“I could, but then I wouldn’t be able to call you a nosey hag to your face.”
Several people poked their heads up over the edges of their cubicles. I’d said that last remark a little too loud.
The woman turned away. “She has her own office. Near the back.”
I walked to the other side of the room. Most of the people in the cubicles were watching me. I was a little self conscious and wished I hadn’t said that, but it had sure gotten results.
I knocked on the door to Tabitha’s office. Through the glass, I saw her look up from her desk. Confusion showed on her face, but she motioned me in.
I came inside and closed the door behind me. “Ma’am, my name is Sail Canvas. Your husband asked me talk to you.”
“About what?” She gestured to the chair across from her desk. I sat. Her furniture was not as comfortable as her husband’s. Tabitha’s office was a little more artsy and less plush. There were a few modernist prints on the walls and some kind of heavy glass vase with flowers sitting on top the filing cabinet. There was one window that appeared to open onto the fire escape.
I sat down and began taking things out of my pockets. My card, the picture of Steven Janes, my notebook. Keeping the picture covered with my hoof, I said, “Mrs. Larson, your husband said you’ve been acting strangely for a few weeks now. He said he asked you what was wrong, but you wouldn’t tell him.”
“I don’t see what business it is of yours,” she said.
“He asked me to find out. I saw that your car had been in an accident. I saw you pay Cash Flow. I talked to him and found out what happened.”
Tabitha’s face had slowly been losing color. I uncovered the picture and slid it across the table. “Does this man look familiar?”
She nodded slowly. “It was dark. I didn’t see him until it was too late.” He voice was very quiet.
“I haven’t gone to the police yet,” I told her. “I thought that you and your husband should talk about this and make arrangements to turn yourself in.”
She nodded and appeared to regain some composure. “Can I…have a few minutes to pack up my office?”
“Sure.” I got up and grabbed my notebook. I left her office and leaned against the wall, facing the cubicles. Everyone seemed to have forgotten me already because no one looked my way while I stood there.
I gave her three minutes by the clock on the wall. She hadn’t come out. I gave her another three. I turned and looked through the glass. The office was empty.
I threw open the door and went in. The window was open. I put my head out. The fire escape had steps that went all the way to the ground for an easy getaway.
A quick check of the office showed that nothing obvious had been disturbed. My card was gone from her desk. She might have gone out the window as soon as I’d left. With a six minute head start, she was as good as gone.
Despite that, I went out the window and spread my wings. Hovering over the building, I couldn’t see her. I checked the parking lot. Her car was gone.
No point in hurrying now. I glided down to my car. I got in where the street noise was quieter and called Andy. His voicemail answered. I had forgotten he taught late on Mondays. He would be out soon, though, so I left him a message asking him to call me back.
Neil answered when I called him. He sounded nervous.
“I visited Tabitha at work and told her what the situation is,” I told him. “She snuck out the fire escape and I don’t know where she went.”
“I haven’t heard from her,” he said.
“Do you know any places she might have gone?”
“No, not really.”
I thought for a moment. “She asked Cash for help the first time, what are the chances she’d go to him?”
“I don’t feel like I really know anything anymore. Things are moving so fast.”
“I’m going to go check at Cash’s place. I’ll let you know.”
I pointed the car towards the drug dealer’s apartment. On the way, Andy called me back.
“I don’t have much time, but here’s the story,” I said. “I told Tabitha just how much trouble she’s in and she ran. Neil and I don’t know where she is or where she’s going. I’m going to go visit Cash now. Can you go and watch the Larsons’ house in case she goes home?”
“I can do that,” he said. “I’ll call you if I see her.”
“Thanks.”
I pulled up to Cash’s place and got out. At the top of the stairs, I knocked on his door. I didn’t hear any footsteps. I knocked again. Still no sound. I decided to try the knob. It was unlocked.
I stepped in and closed the door behind me. There were no lights on. I waited a little while to let my eyes adjust. Walking into the kitchen, I found Cash dead on the floor with three gunshot wounds spaced across his chest.
I hadn’t been expecting that and I think my eyes might have bugged out a little, cartoon style. I looked away down the hall and saw something glint on the carpet. I walked over and knelt down.
It was an empty casing. I poked it with my car keys and rolled it over. Nine millimeter. A few feet away, there were two more.
I walked back to the kitchen. Without looking at him too hard, I touched Cash’s neck. It was still fairly warm. I turned and walked out of the apartment.
As I fastened my seat belt, I happened to glance in the rear view mirror. There was an old Chevrolet Caprice coming down the street. I expected it to pass by, but instead it appeared to be slowing. I started my car.
I looked to the left and saw Bobby, Terry Ives’s hard man, pointing a gun at me. I didn’t think, I just dropped the car into reverse and smashed down the gas pedal.
My car jumped backwards almost forcefully enough to give me whiplash. I cranked the steering wheel over hard and the car spun in the middle of the street until I was pointing the opposite direction. I put the transmission in drive and tromped down on the accelerator again.
In the mirror, I could see the Caprice spin around the street. Judging by the tire smoke, it might have more power than it looked.
I looked forward again and swore. A traffic light was red. Regretfully, I slowed down enough to make sure I could get through without getting into an accident. Just my luck, the light changed green behind me. The Caprice gained considerably.
I heard a few shots from behind. I don’t know how close they came, but it made me nervous. Bobby was following uncomfortably close. I don’t know how he kept missing, but the potholes in that section of town may have had something to do with it. At the next block, I cut the wheel hard to the right. The Caprice might have had power, but it didn’t handle nearly as well as my car.
Bobby’s car started to turn, but not well enough. It went up over the curb and smashed into the building on the corner. I didn’t see what it was, maybe an apartment house or something. I slowed down, but kept my eye on the mirror. No one followed me after that.
I thought about calling 911 to tell them about Cash. I probably should have done that as soon as Tabitha had run. I didn’t want to use my phone to report a murder, though, and I couldn’t remember where there was a pay phone without a camera nearby. Oh well. Someone would find him eventually.
I thought about joining Andy at the Larson’s, but on the off chance Tabitha had found out what I drove, the sight of my car might keep her away.
I went to Neil’s office. Sherrie was at the desk.
“Is Neil here?”
“No, he went home. He seemed like something was wrong. He never leaves before five.” She checked the clock. “It’s only about ten till, now.”
“How long ago did he leave?”
“Just a few minutes.” She arched an eyebrow. “Since when are you on a first name basis with him?”
I turned around and walked out without replying. If Neil had only left a few minutes ago, he was probably just getting home. I walked back to the car. As I slid behind the wheel, my phone rang. It was Tabitha.
“Mr. Canvas, I’m sorry about earlier. I’ve thought about what you said. I’m ready to turn myself in.”
I thought her voice still sounded a little stressed, but more collected than when I’d talked to her earlier. “Where are you?”
“I’m at my office.”
“I’ll be there soon.” I called Andy. After explaining what was going on I asked him to repeat it to Neil and then both of them should come to Tabitha’s office.
I hung up and started the car.
»«
The office building was deserted when I got there. All the doors were unlocked, though, so I went up to the third floor. There were a few security lights on, but other than that the only illumination came from Tabitha’s office. She sat at her desk with her hands in her lap. I opened the door and came in.
“I’m sorry for all this,” she said.
“We can fix it.”
“No you can’t. A man died. I’m not going to get out of this. Neil and I are going to cover it up.”
“You’ve had some time to put together a defense,” I reassured her. “Plus time for good behavior, you won’t be in too long.”
“I can’t do that.” Her hand came up from behind the desk holding a small revolver.
“Now hang on.” I put my hooves up. “Have you really thought this through? Two bodies double the chances of getting caught.”
She stood up and came around the desk, backing me into the wall.
“Cash said he hid that man so well no one would ever find the body. He can do it again.”
“What are you going to do now that Cash is dead?”
“He’s dead?” She looked confused. I realized that her revolver wouldn’t have ejected casings onto Cash’s floor. What were the chances that the drug dealer had been killed because of something entirely unrelated? Well, pretty high, actually. However, what were the chances that Bobby would have showed up outside shortly thereafter? What were the chances that Tabitha didn’t know anything at all about Chris being dead? There was something else going on here.
“Someone killed him earlier today,” I told her. “I don’t know who.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“What have I got to lie about?” I saw something through the glass door out of the corner of my eye. Tabitha saw it too and whipped her gun towards it, pulling the trigger.
The door seemed to shatter in slow motion. I could see someone on the other side of the door jerk back, flinching away from the bullet.
I seemed like a long time for the glass to stop falling. Tabitha took a step towards the door, still holding the gun out. She had completely turned away from me. On the floor with a bullet hole in his stomach was Neil.
Tabitha dropped the gun and her hands covered her mouth. I grabbed her heavy glass vase from on top the filing cabinet and conked her on the head with it. She dropped like dead weight.
The vase was unharmed and I set it back down and retrieved the gun, carefully moving it away from Tabitha. Picking up the phone on her desk, I called the police.
It didn’t take them long to arrive. Reports of a shooting between a white middle class husband and wife usually get a quick response.
When the emergency services got there, the police handcuffed Tabitha and shoved her in a car. Neil was still conscious and they put him in the ambulance.
A crowd of uniformed officers and detectives spread out and investigated or whatever it was they did. One of them came up to me. He introduced himself as Detective Martin Wade. He was a black man of maybe forty years of age, average height and build. He wore about the same suit and tie as the other detectives and his head was shaved.
“Mr. Canvas, I understand you reported the incident.”
“That’s right.”
He took out a notebook similar to my own. “Walk me though the events that led up to this.”
“Last Sunday, I was drinking.”
Wade looked at me, trying to decide if I was kidding.
“I was with my lawyer, David Goldstein. It was social, not business. I’d recently been through a breakup. She was a cheating bi—uh, you know.”
Wade nodded.
“David told me about Neil Larson. Neil thought his wife Tabitha was cheating on him. Since David told me not to do anything to get revenge on my ex, he thought that maybe I might like to help Neil check on his wife.”
“Do you have a license for private investigation?” asked Wade.
“I wasn’t getting paid. Virginia law says I only need one if it’s my occupation.”
Wade shrugged.
“I saw Tabitha talking with a pony. His name is Cash Flow.” I talked about Cash like I didn’t know he was dead. “I think he’s a drug dealer, and I think he associates with a man named Terry Ives.”
I gave Wade Cash’s address and the location of Terry’s bar. I also gave a description of Bobby and a few ideas about what his profession might be.
“Cash admitted that he’d helped Tabitha dispose of a body.”
“He just admitted that?”
I shrugged. “He wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box. He said that Tabitha hit a man with her car in First Landing State Park. I went through some old newspapers and found a guy who I think is the victim. His name was Steven Janes.”
Wade nodded like he might or might not have recognized the name. He kept taking notes as I spoke.
“I told Neil what I thought was happening. He asked me to go see Tabitha and talk to her about turning herself in. I did, and when I left her office to give her some time to pack up her things, she went out the fire escape.”
“So how did we end up back here?” asked Wade.
“A couple hours later, she called and said that she had calmed down. She told me to come to her office. I had a friend watching the Larson house in case she went home. I called him and told him to get Neil to come to the office too.”
I stopped. It was then that I realized that I hadn’t seen Andy.
From the look on my face, Wade must have guessed that something was wrong. “What’s the matter?”
“My friend. I haven’t heard from him since I asked him to get Neil. I thought he would come too.” I pulled out my phone and called Andy. His phone went straight to voicemail.
A sudden thought struck me. Tabitha had said that she and Neil were going to try and cover things up. Besides her and Neil, only Andy, Cash Flow, and myself knew what had happened. Cash had been murdered, Tabitha had held a gun on me, and Andy… Andy had probably knocked on the Larson’s door and told Neil exactly who he was and what he knew.
I quickly explained my theory to Wade. He listened in silence. After I was finished, he motioned for me to follow him. He grabbed his partner and had him come with us.
On the street, the three of us got into an unmarked Ford. At my direction, Foster, Wade’s partner, drove us to the Larson house.
We passed Andy’s car and pulled up in front of the house. The three of us got out and looked around. The front door was locked and no key was immediately obvious. Wade shrugged and used the butt of his gun to break a window next to the door. He reached through and unlocked it.
We searched the house. On the plus side, we didn’t find a body. Unfortunately, we didn’t find Andy gagged and bound, either. The garage was empty, as both of the Larson’s cars were at Tabitha’s office.
About that time I got a call from Hawker. “Sail? Do you know where Andy is? He said he was going to be with you.”
“Actually, I don’t know where he is right now. I talked to him earlier.”
“He isn’t answering his phone.”
“I know. I tried calling him too.”
“I’m worried.”
“I think he was kidnapped.”
She gasped. “What? What happened?”
“I’m not really sure. I’ll call you back if I hear anything.” I hung up on her.
“Where do we go from here?” asked Fowler.
“Got any ideas?” Wade asked me.
I thought for a moment. The idea I had was a long shot and probably wouldn’t work, but Andy needed to be found. I made another call.
Admiral Nevis didn’t like to answer his phone at home. I could tell by the way he grumbled “Hello?”
“Sir, it’s Sail Canvas.”
I held the phone away from my ear as Nevis let out a long string of profanity. I probably wasn’t supposed to have his home number.
“Sir, I need you to do something for me.”
“What?” His tone of voice hadn’t changed.
“A friend of mine was kidnapped. If you have any satellites pointed at this area, they could be helpful in finding him.”
“What we do with intelligence assets is classified.”
“I’ve got security clearance. Remember, the government trusts me to build stuff.”
“No.”
“Sir, I’ll owe you a favor. Anything.”
There was silence on the line for several seconds. Finally, “What are the details?”
I quickly told him the location, the time I’d called Andy, and the description of his car. I explained that he’d disappeared shortly thereafter. I could hear the scratching of a pencil on the other end of the line.
I finished and Nevis read it back to me.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He grumbled something unintelligible and hung up. I told Wade and Fowler who I had called. They seemed impressed.
Our work at the Larson house was finished. There didn’t seem to be any hidden spaces or anything else to indicate Andy was still there. We headed back to Tabitha’s office to get my car.
About twenty minutes after I called Nevis, my phone rang.
A young male voice I had never heard before said, “Sir? We have the information you requested.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Sir, the man in question exited his car and went to the front door of the house. He appeared to be invited inside. About ten minutes later, a car exited the garage. No one entered or exited the house until quite a while later when two men and a pony arrived by car and appeared to break in.”
“Where did the car that left the house go?”
“One moment, sir.” I heard keyboard keys tapping. “It drove to an office building and one man got out. It wasn’t the same man who went into the house.”
“It didn’t make any stops along the way?”
“No sir.”
“Thank you.” I hung up.
“He must be in Neil Larson’s trunk,” I said to Wade.
“That car’s already been towed away, said the detective.
Fowler turned the wheel and we went to the impound lot. By flashing their badges around, the two cops were able to get us in fairly quickly.
When Neil had arrived at the office, he had been in such a hurry that he forgotten to lock the car. I opened the door and found the trunk release button.
Andy had been draped in what might have been an entire roll of duct tape. His mouth had been covered, his hands had been bound behind his back and his legs were bent at the knee. He was also taped to the metal on one side of the car. The carpet only covered the floor of the trunk and I guessed that tape wouldn’t stick very well to it. I assumed he had been taped to the side to keep him away from the emergency trunk release in case he had found some way to pull it.
“Took you long enough,” were the first words out of his mouth. He smiled. He stopped smiling when I ripped some duct tape off his skin.
He was a little unsteady when he got out because he legs had fallen asleep. I put my phone in his hand and told him to call Hawker. As Andy talked, Wade put out a call to have Neil Larson cuffed to his hospital bed.
Wade and Foster took Andy back to his car and then me back to mine. The detectives told me to be in contact for a while. The Virginia Beach police were also involved because that’s where the Larsons lived and where the crime actually occurred. It looked like I was going to have a busy time over the next couple of days.
I was allowed to go home, though. In the morning, I went to the hospital and told the uniformed police officer outside who I was. I said I needed to formally end my employment with Larson. He let me in.
Larson may have been sleeping or just resting when I came in. Judging by the location of the bullet wound, it might have gone through his stomach or liver. Whether on accident or on purpose, Tabitha had shot him perfectly in the center of mass. His eyes opened when I kinked his oxygen line.
“Why did you put my friend in your trunk?” I let go of the line.
“I was trying to help Tabitha. He knew what she did.”
“Were you going to kill him?” I asked.
“I…don’t know.”
“Who killed Cash?”
“I don’t know.”
I pinched the oxygen line again. “I don’t know! I hired Terry Ives to take care of it. I don’t know who he sent.”
I gave him some air again. “Did you also tell him to kill me?”
He nodded. He seemed a little more scared now.
“I’m guessing getting shot wasn’t part of the plan.”
“I was trying to help her. I did all this for her.”
Wade had speculated what the Larsons might be charged for. Tabitha would be charged with manslaughter for the jogger and for brandishing a deadly weapon at me. Depending on how the jury felt, shooting Neil could be anything from an accident all the way up to attempted murder. I told him that.
His face fell. I told him, “Don’t even get me started on the charges that you’re looking at.”
I left. It was nearly time for my appointment.
When Dr. Games asked me to talk about the past week, I’m sure she wasn’t expecting what I had to say.
I told her the results of my investigation. I told her about the long hours of boredom sitting outside the Larson house with only animal crackers for company. I told her about Andy and what had happened to him. I told her about getting shot at.
“Sail, this seems a little farfetched.”
“You can read about it in the newspaper. I’m not mentioned, but it’s all there.”
She folded her forelegs and contemplated for a moment.
“So how did it make me feel?” I prompted. She shrugged and motioned for me to answer the question.
“Well, even with the boring parts it was the most interesting eight days I’ve ever had. I might even go so far as to say that it was fun. I guess I enjoyed the feeling of being part of the good guys who beat the bad guys.”
“I remember you said you started on this as a kind of revenge on the woman who cheated on you. Do you still feel that way?”
I realized that I hadn’t thought much about Lilly in the past week. “I suppose not. I think some resentment is always going to be there, but I feel like I’ve had my mind somewhere else for a while and I’ve calmed down. I might even be able to carry on a civil conversation with her.”
“Did you learn anything especially profound from all this?”
I thought for a moment. “I learned that sleeping around is terrible, but it’s still better than murder.”
End of Part One