The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag - #2 Swept under the Rug Page 15

  Penny, her feet up on Marty’s lap, allowed Leo to hold an ice pack on her forehead. The three of them took up the couch. Neil prowled the room, the copy of the search warrant in his hands. I’d tried to talk with him a few times, but he brushed me aside, so I stood in the corner, arms wrapped around myself. Sounds of drawers being emptied, papers fluttering to the floor and the soft murmur of animated discussion drifted from the hallway.

  “Maybe one of us should watch them, make sure they aren’t planting evidence.” Marty said for the fifth time.

  Neil growled unintelligibly from the corner. I slid him a look, but he turned away, his shoulders unnaturally stiff. I strode over to Marty and lowered my voice.

  “They’re looking for Candie Valentino, Sprout and I’m pretty sure they didn’t smuggle her in under their department issued coats.”

  “Ten frigging minutes,” Neil muttered and shook his head. I understood what he meant. Ten minutes more and in all likelihood, we would have been on our way out of town, blissfully unaware that our house was being ransacked. I was sorry his Sunday plans had been spoiled, but really, wasn’t it better to be here for the search?

  “I still don’t understand,” I said to the officer. “Markus Valentino claimed I was blackmailing him?”

  “That’s right.” The answer came from Detective Capri, who’d appeared in the foyer. “He said you came to him demanding a certain amount of money for proof of life on Candie. That, when he delivered the aforementioned monies, you refused and laughed at him. He also implicated you in the arson at his estate.”

  “I saved his worthless ass.” Neil seethed. “How dare he—”

  “Detective, I think I’ve got something here.”

  Capri turned and handed an envelope over to her. Still wearing latex gloves, she slid its contents out, scanned them briefly before meeting my gaze. “A check from Markus Valentino.”

  “I worked for him, you know that!” I shouted at her.

  “This is quite a hefty sum for a cleaning service. Bag it.” She ordered her aide.

  “Let me explain—”

  “You’ll have plenty of time to explain down at the station. “Margaret Phillips, you are under arrest for extortion. You have the right to remain silent….” Capri droned on, a flash of pity in her eyes while one of the officers handcuffed me.

  I blinked back tears and Neil was at my side, ready to surge into battle if need be. “I’m sorry I ruined your plans for today,” I told him, my voice wobbling.

  He ignored my apology, focusing on what mattered. “Don’t worry Maggie, we’ll fix this. I’ll call my Dad and we’ll get you a lawyer. Don’t say anything without a lawyer present, got it?”

  I nodded as my police escort ushered me out the door. “I won’t, I promise.”

  Neil already had his cell phone to his ear as he watched me escorted to and loaded in the back of a black and white cruiser.

  “Maggie!” The slamming car door didn’t cut off her strangled cry as Sylvia skidded on her icy driveway, running for all she was worth. I watched sadly as one of the police officers shooed her away.

  Josh and Kenny stood at the window, their faces heart-wrenchingly desolate. Sure, I’d been arrested before, but never in front of my family, never for something so serious.

  Capri turned to say something else to Neil before she stomped over the crusty snow.

  “How could you do this?” I asked her, keeping my voice quiet.

  She didn’t turn to face me. “It’s my job.”

  “You know I didn’t have anything to do with Candie’s disappearance. You know that!”

  She ignored me as the vehicle backed out of my driveway. I slunk down in the seat, not wanting any of my neighbors to catch sight of me in total disgrace.

  My brain was still absorbing Valentino’s phony claim which had justified the warrant when the cruiser stopped. Capri helped me from the backseat. “Take her straight through booking then stick her in the tank until her council arrives.” She walked off, leaving me burning holes in the back of her retreating skull.

  Booking involved a great deal more paperwork then I’d ever imagined. Not that I’d imagined it often. I almost felt sorry for the paper pushers who dealt with this every workday. There was also fingerprinting, both digital and hard copy on paper, and the infamous mug shot photos. I was offered a phone call, which I refused for the time being. Then I had to cool my heels until my council showed up.

  Thank God Laura wasn’t around. The fur was really gonna fly when she caught wind of this kafuffle.

  I sat on the concrete floor, doubly glad I put on insulated jeans that morning, and watched people come and go: mostly police officers, who were easy to spot, not just from their uniforms, but their purposeful strides. Business was slow, but then, this was Hudson on a Sunday, so there really wasn’t a huge, nasty element for these law enforcement officials to contend with. I watched Special Agents Salazar and Feist come in, striding past my cage with a self important air the local cops lacked. No doubt, they had been to see Valentino first thing that morning and were gearing up to interrogate me.

  Taking Neil’s advice, I remained quiet, pulling facts together in my head. Confident that Neil and Ralph would find me the best lawyer money could buy, I wanted to be ready to give him everything I knew. Sadly, it really wasn’t much.

  * * *

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I told you, I don’t understand why he gave me so much money, other than to bribe me to back off from investigating him.” Frustration oozed from my pores and I glanced at Darryl Brentwood, the lawyer Neil’s father had recommended as “a real son-of-a-bitch.” Coming from the original, it was high praise indeed. Brentwood shrugged his massive shoulders, indicating I should suck it up for now.

  Special Agent Feist rested his steepled fingers on the table in front of him and quirked an eyebrow. “Civilians don’t investigate, Mrs. Phillips. They both observe and assist the police. Or they stalk.”

  I didn’t like his implication and the second-grade name calling chaffed my already itchy skin. No need to wonder who was playing bad cop. I blew out in exasperation. “I didn’t find anything to report to Detective…er…to you.”

  “Why didn’t you simply inform us about Valentino’s payoff when he gave it to you?” Salazar’s reasonable tone didn’t fool me for a second. There were no good cops in this room.

  “Honestly, I was too stunned at first, then since I planned to return it to him—”

  Feist cut me off. “You wait until well after dark on a Saturday night and then proceed to the man’s place of residence to return so-called free money? I’m having a hard time swallowing your story, Mrs. Phillips.”

  Part of me wanted to tell him to choke on it, but common sense reigned. “Look, I know it was weird timing, but I know myself and I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if I let it go until morning.”

  Brentwood patted one of his gigantic mitts on my tightly clenched fist. I jumped, having forgotten he was there. “Other than Mr. Valentino’s claim that Mrs. Phillips was extorting money for information, do you have any proof that she was involved with Mrs. Valentino’s disappearance?”

  Feist dodged the question. “Mr. Valentino was attacked in his home last night. A physical examination of his person revealed someone had hit him over the head with a blunt object, rendering him unconscious before the fire started. It is our belief the attacker then set the house on fire, with the intention of murdering Mr. Valentino and having it appear to be an accident.”

  “My husband went in the house—he saved Valentino’s life. And I’m the person who called 911. Do you think we would have done those things if we wanted Valentino out of the picture?”

  Salazar studied my face. “It’s not unheard of for a first time offender to panic, have an attack of conscience and retrench at the eleventh hour.”

  Darryl stood and waved dismissively. “Gentlemen, you have nothing on my client but circumstantial evidence and the word of one man who deliberately with
held evidence early in the investigation. The record shows that Mrs. Phillips worked with Detective Capri, even before the kidnapping. You are wasting her time and your resources holding her here. In addition, you have tarnished her good name and I plan on advising my client to sue for defamation of character. Considering her business will potentially suffer, I’m sure we will have a strong case against both the Hudson police and the FBI.”

  I sat back, very impressed with the real son-of–a-bitch. Feist opened his mouth but no sound emerged. Salazar’s lips made a thin white slash under his grim stare.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, this interview is over. I will need a moment to confer with my client before I take this before a judge.”

  Effectively dismissed, the FBI special agents rose simultaneously and exited the interview room. I glanced at my lawyer, his pearly white grin shocking next to the ebony of his skin. “Thank-you, Mr. Brentwood. That turned out better than I had hoped.”

  “Don’t thank me until after you get my bill, Mrs. Phillips. And I meant what I said; you have a very strong case for defamation of character.” “Not interested. They really are just doing their jobs.”

  Daryl grunted. “As your council, I’ll advise you to stay away from Valentino and the remainder of the federal investigation. Coincidental or not, you don’t want your name to constantly pop up on the feds’ radar. I’ll also advise you to abandon your ties with Detective Capri and the confidential informant position. Being a rat never pays.”

  On that ominous note, he lumbered out. I brooded while a uniform escorted me back to the holding area. The sounds and smell of the police station hovered around me, the moans of drunken citizens who had partied too much on Saturday night drying out in the cell next door, burnt coffee and nervous sweat lodged in my nostrils, ringing phones and the constant murmur of voices too far away to distinguish.

  Breathing through my mouth, I waited to be released. Brentwood had been right; Hudson was a small community and I might lose clients because of my arrest. I rubbed my hands over my eyes. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time.

  “Margaret Phillips,” A young female officer, almost pixie-like in appearance, called and I stood back from the door as she unlatched it. Brentwood towered over her flashing me another of his quick, confident grins. “The charges have been dropped.” He reassured me.

  Brentwood took my arm and guided me to what I assumed was the check-out desk. I saw Neil first, pacing like a caged panther and my father-in-law, Ralph Phillips scowling at his son’s back. I swallowed hard. This wasn’t going to be fun.

  “Maggie!” Neil was at my side, relief and fury battling for control of his expression. “Are you all right?”

  The short answer was no, but I nodded because I didn’t want to be responsible for another second of his distress. “I will be once I get home.”

  Ralph stood by Neil’s side, his face grim. “Say the word, sweetheart and we’ll own this whole damn building.”

  “I’m fine, Ralph really. It was just a mistake.” Although I knew his reaction stemmed from a thirst for blood more than genuine distress for my situation, I was sort of flattered.

  “Maggie, can I speak with you?” Capri had approached and I turned to scowl at her plum colored suit, sidearm strapped visibly under her unbuttoned jacket.

  Neil bristled like an irate hedgehog, but I placed a hand on his arm, signaling that I could handle the confrontation. “Don’t worry Capri, I’m not lawsuit happy. I have to live in this town, too.”

  Her gaze steady, she nodded once. “That’s good to know, but it’s not what I want to speak with you about.”

  “My wife isn’t about to say anything without her attorney present. Come on, Maggie.” Neil pulled on my arm, but Capri blocked his path. Tension radiated off him in waves and I was afraid if Capri didn’t move her bony ass, Neil would knock her down then be charged with assaulting an officer.

  “Neil, it’s all right. Let me talk with her and be finished with this mess.” He didn’t budge. “Please,” I wasn’t above begging.

  Capri was smart enough not to smirk as I signaled Brentwood. “May I have another moment of your time?”

  “I’ll wait here.” Neil said.

  We followed Capri’s brisk stride to her office and Brentwood shut the door.

  I opened my mouth to tear a strip of flesh from her hide, but my lawyer spoke first. “I want it on record that my client is cooperating in full with this investigation.”

  “Noted. Maggie, tell me more about your encounter with Valentino. What was your impression of his attitude at the time?”

  I thought back. “Confident, arrogant even. Pretty much the same as the other encounter I had with him.”

  “Did he seem at all upset? Angry?”

  “Only when I mentioned Amelia Kettering. He seemed jealous of her former relationship with Candie. Perhaps he felt threatened.”

  “I’ve run a background check on Ms. Kettering. Everything seems simple enough. She’s single, thirty-five years old, an advertising executive for a national firm. She moves around quite a bit, rents instead of owns. She’s not flush with money, but she is comfortable, financially. Do you believe she might have anything to do with Mrs. Valentino’s disappearance?”

  “Not unless she’s a brilliant actress. She seemed genuinely surprised that Candie lived nearby, and shocked when I told her about the kidnapping. I don’t think her reactions were feigned and she didn’t strike me as the vengeful sort.”

  Capri glanced at Brentwood. “For the record, I want you to understand that I never believed you were capable of extortion and that I trust your judgment. However, the feds are in charge of this investigation. I’m required to follow their playbook. I hope this won’t affect our future working relationship.”

  I rolled my shoulders back, stared her in the eye. “Detective, do you honestly believe everything is going to go back to the way it was? Finding a cleaning job in this town will be like searching for a specific tick in the forest. It’s a small community, word will spread and my reputation will be in tatters. The last thing I’m worried about right now is feeding you more information.”

  “Noted,” Capri said again and I turned to the door.

  “For the record, I only wanted to help Candie Valentino.”

  “Funny, me too. I suggest you look into Valentino’s business dealings, specifically a project named falcon. My impression is he cares more about that than his wife.”

  I left without a backwards glance. The cops had the ball and they could stuff it for all I cared. Finding Candie cost too high a price for me to even consider paying.

  “My office will bill you.” Brentwood said as we parted ways in the lobby.

  Case in point. I sighed and gestured to Neil.

  “I want to go home now.”

  “As you wish, milady.”

  * * * *

  As the sun headed toward the western horizon, the calls began. My arrest in connection with Candie Valentino’s disappearance wouldn’t hit the newspapers until Monday morning, but word of mouth was almost as reliable. Every stinking job I’d lined up for the following week had been canceled. I was a pariah, not convicted by the courts, but by my community. No one wanted a possible extortionist/arsonist mopping their floors.

  After the fifth cancellation, I shut my cell phone off. Penny, eyes wide, squeezed Marty’s hand as they watched me prepare dinner. The greens were washed and chopped and I kept busy sautéing pine nuts in extra virgin olive oil for a salad topper. A mountain of chicken cutlets sat warming in the oven and the rice pilaf stood ready, awaiting distribution.

  Neil was propped up against the refrigerator. Flanked by his offspring, three sets of blue-green eyes bore witness to my every move. I loved them, but the staring was driving me nuts. The relief at my quick return home had evaporated as reality of what was next for our family to endure settled over us. The Laundry Hag was officially persona non grata.

  “We don’t need the money; we were get
ting by just fine before you started cleaning houses.” He said for the fifth time.

  “You’re absolutely right.” I agreed, scooping the nuts onto a paper towel to cool.

  “Maybe we should head out.” Marty offered.

  Normally, I would fight him on it, but arguing required more fire than I possessed at the moment. “Do you have somewhere to go?”

  Marty’s lack of reply was answer enough. “Boys, wash your hands and set the table please. Neil, would you call Sylvia, see if she would like to join us for dinner?” The salad alone could feed fifty after all and I didn’t want to think about her sitting all alone, abandoned.

  “Sure thing, Uncle Scrooge.” Neil picked up the phone, but put it down just as fast. “Maybe I’ll walk over their instead, I could use some air.” He headed out of the room to get his jacket.

  “What would you like to drink, Penny?” I opened the fridge and surveyed the beverage selection.

  “I’ll get it myself. “ Penny drawled but I cast a black scowl over my shoulder. This was not a night I would tolerate someone taking over. I needed to stay busy and hold onto the illusion of control.

  “What… Do… You… Want…. To… Drink.” I bit out.

  Penny and Marty exchanged silent communication. “Milk, please.” She squeaked.

  I poured an enormous glass of milk, then turned to Marty. “And you?”

  “How about a beer?”

  I didn’t bother to look. “We’re out. How about milk?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” My brother grumbled.

  “Milks all around.” I announced and emptied the gallon into various cups.

  “Let me carry those for you, sis.” Marty reached for the glasses, but I jerked them back. Milk sloshed over the rim, slopping onto my sweater and landing with a splat on the floor.

  “Jesus Marty,” I began as the liquid seeped into the fabric.

  My brother hung his head. “Sorry, I’m so sorry Maggie.”

  I knew he was referring to more than the milk. Harnessing my temper, I headed for the laundry room and a mop.