Pool Of Lies Part 21

"I told Mrs. Bayfield-Farris I'd give her a heads-up."

"A heads-up? What's that supposed to mean?"

"She knew a report existed, but she didn't give it much thought until Kevin came to collect on her secret. She had our report, but not Wheat Ridge's. She asked me to tell her what was on the tape...so she'd have some time to prepare before it became public domain."

"Public domain?"

"So to speak."

"It hasn't made the news so far. These people give new meaning to the expression low profile. What's to prepare?"

"Herself!"

Rae saw Veronica lose her composure for the first...no, the second time. The first being their confrontation over Justin's parentage.

"You saw the tape, Rae. You heard Mrs. La.s.siter trashing her mother. How would you like to be in Mrs. Farris's shoes, watching her most intimate secrets hung out for public viewing?"

"What if it wasn't her first viewing either?"

"You think Sergeant Wehr was doing a little blackmail on the side?" Veronica's mane ruffled with her head-shake. "I can't believe you. I'm going to remind you again, you've got no reason--"

"Yes I have. A million or so." Rae's internal calculator had kicked in and began clicking off decimals.

"What are you talking about? You're a mother. You should have some feeling for the woman."

"I do. For the woman who was murdered. Maybe by her own greedy relatives. Maybe by her own mother."

"Make some sense."

"The GST tax on Jerome Bayfield's estate has got to be a whopper."

"I have no idea--"

"Generation skipping transfer tax. Jerome Bayfield's bequest to Deidre and her children skipped her mother, Morgan."

"What do you mean, skipped her mother? Morgan Farris got a substantial--"

"Right, but as I recall from the probate file, Deidre's Trust was equal to Morgan's. It didn't feed from Morgan's."

Now Rae had Veronica's full attention. "But Jerome was Morgan's grandfather. That means--"

"Morgan's mother was already dead. Generation-skipping only applies to living generations skipped."

"Will you stop interrupting me." Veronica's expression had taken on some worry lines. "Let's see if I've got this right. Because Mrs. La.s.siter was the daughter, not the sister of Morgan Bayfield, a generation was skipped when Jerome Bayfield willed something directly to her."

"You got it."

"And there's a tax attached to that skipping."

"I've seen the numbers in the probate inventory, as well as the will. Morgan's and Deidre's trusts were funded approximately equally. There's a lousy little one and a half mil exemption."

"Little? Since when is one and a half million little?"

"In this estate, trust me, it's peanuts."

Veronica sank slowly into her chair and stared at nothing. "She seemed so vulnerable."

"The mother from h.e.l.l?"

Veronica nodded slowly. "Her embarra.s.sment could very well be overshadowed by her greed." Then her mouth gaped, as if she'd thought of something else. "What if she knowingly signed doc.u.ments...tax returns?"

Light bulb in Rae's head. "Now it makes sense why she didn't want to be P/R of Deidre's estate. Possibly, Danny's the only one who didn't know the true relationship between Deidre and Morgan."

"That must be what Wehr meant by relationships affecting the estate. I think she was just guessing, but I never would have picked up on its having a monetary consequence." Veronica's tone was hushed, apologetic.

"That's why you hired me."

Over a week had pa.s.sed since Rae had spoken with Danny La.s.siter. Not that she wasn't concerned about his health. It just seemed awkward now that she was employed by the Lakewood Police Department. What would have been ordinary conversation between them was now off-limits.

She struggled with a p.r.i.c.kling curiosity to know if Danny was aware of Deidre's true parentage. No way could she ask him without leaking information. How would he react to the knowledge? Not her call to find out.

Rae's intention, upon leaving Veronica's office, had been to return to her own and come up with some sort of estimate of the GST tax due as a result of Deidre's being a great-granddaughter rather than a granddaughter. But the thought of Danny wouldn't leave her alone. Instead of continuing north on Wadsworth, she made an abrupt turn, heading west past Crown Hill Cemetery and the lush green surrounding the lakes of Crown Hill Park. Danny's house was only a few minutes out of her way. Couldn't hurt. If she kept her mouth shut about the tape she'd just seen.

A dark sky, clotted with rain clouds, menaced the western horizon. Rae remembered the forecast had been for afternoon rains-much needed as the wildfire season approached. But all the rain in the world could be sucked up in the dryness of a Colorado summer. A parched land, just waiting for a stray bolt of lightning-or a careless smoker. The front range was a tinderbox. Dry twigs. Voices like dry twigs. Where had she...

Rae almost missed the turn onto Danny's street. G.o.d, she hoped he'd had the sense to chuck the smoking habit once and for all. Since the heart attack, his life might depend on it.

Then she thought she'd turned down the wrong street. The lake was there, blue-green waters writhing in a swell of wind. But the house that sat where Danny's had was surely not the one she'd last visited when bringing him home from the hospital.

It had no roof! Where the roof had been, a black plastic tarp surged in the restless air. But, there was the dumpster to the east of the driveway.

As she tried to a.s.similate all the changes that had transformed the house, a horn honked behind her. She glanced into her rear-view and saw Danny's old truck. Danny, in the driver's seat, waved at her. She pulled to the side of the road and allowed him to enter the circular drive ahead of her. Then she followed and parked beside a bank of tiered planters, fresh with blooming annuals. Why had he done landscaping before putting a roof on the house?

He grinned as he hurried toward her. Still a little pale, he exuded an enthusiasm that she hadn't seen in him for quite a while.

"Well, what do you think? No more mausoleum." Danny wore a pleased-with-himself chessy cat expression.

Rae couldn't help but smile back. "Didn't you forget something, Danny?"

A look of genuine puzzlement crossed his face.

"It's got no roof."

"But that's the best part." He nodded toward another truck parked along side the garage, and Rae recognized Pat Keech's logo on its side.

As she exited her car, the sound of hammering pummeled her ears, coming from somewhere on the far side of the property.

"We're doing a pop-top. Lots of gla.s.s. Solar panels. n.o.body in this house is going to be hiding from the sun."

Dollar signs whirred in Rae's head. "This looks expensive." Where was the money coming from? She dared not ask if he'd paid Deidre's past-due personal income taxes. Not her problem anymore.

He took her arm and guided her up the new red tile steps. Her eyes bugged and she missed a step. As if reading her mind, he said, "Stop being a CPA for a minute and just enjoy. Say 'great job, Danny'."

"It does look great. Just took me by surprise." Rae watched beads of perspiration form on Danny's brow. "You're not overdoing things, are you?"

"Overbuilding? I don't think so, based on what other properties are selling for around here, even in the recession."

"No. I mean your health. It just looks like you're taking on a lot."

"I'm feeling better than I have...in a while," Danny finished lamely, some of his exuberance waning.

He's planning on living here, not selling.

"I took out a line of credit," Danny continued. "It'll be paid when the other properties sell."

"Does Sandy know?" Rae blurted, remembering the surprise generated at Danny's homecoming, when he'd revealed that he'd put a first mortgage on the residence.

"He arranged it. Got me a great rate. Can you come inside and see what I've done so far?"

What's he done with the cash from the first mortgage? It was no longer her business, except for the fact that she hadn't been paid for her services, past or current. Sandy must be on top of the situation.

From the east side of the deck, at the entrance to the drive, Rae saw a discarded hot tub-one of the old-fashioned redwood tubs, scarred from many years of use. It had been hidden from her view by the commercial dumpster when she'd entered the drive at ground level. The tub was piled high with trash and debris from the remodel job.

Danny's voice, animated once more, updated her on what he'd been doing to the interior of the house. She caught the words "kitchen' and "island," but his voice seemed to be coming from a distance. Rae couldn't take her eyes off the tub. It was filled with more than debris.

Deidre had a face now. And a body. She filled the tub, bigger than life. Wisps of her black hair floated on murky water. Lifeless, pale eyes in a face beginning to bloat. Rae shook her head to disengage from the images burned into her skull from the two videotape sessions.

"Rae? Are you okay?"

Danny's voice jerked her back from a dark place she never wanted to see again.

"Yeah. Just a little tired. Could we do a rain check on the interior?"

"Sure." But he looked hurt.

"It's just been a couple of really hard days."

"Dee's case?"

"You know I can't--"

"No sweat. I wasn't going to ask."

"I just wanted to check on you." Have you quit smoking? Are you eating right? Mother hen speaking. Why haven't you paid me when you're spending money like a drunken sailor? CPA speaking. She'd call Sandy when she got home.

"I'm being good, Rae. Josh and Beth watch me like hawks now that school is out."

"They're great kids. You're lucky."

"How're your kids doing? And your grandkids?"

"Good. I miss them. I'm supposed to be going to California for..." she trailed off. No use going into that with Danny.

"Supposed to? Is there some reason you can't? Do you need horse sitters? I'm sure Josh or Beth--"

"No, it's not that," she cut him off. "It's not till next spring. I mean, a lot could happen between now and then."

"More reason to go sooner rather than later."

She looked at him. Did she really look so bad that he was worried about her health?

"Danny, I'm fine. Just kind of drained at the moment."

"That's not what I meant." His chestnut eyes took on a new earnestness. "What I meant was I've come to appreciate...I didn't see a white light or anything...but something has changed for me since I had the heart attack."

"I can see that." She reached over and gave his arm a squeeze. "I'll be back."

She started toward the front steps. Danny followed.

"Go see your kids."

She smiled back at him. "I'll mull it."

"Don't mull too long." He shot a grin at her.

She made the stairs without looking in the direction of the hot tub. The rain smelled close now on heavy air. She got quickly into her car, making a conscious effort to look straight ahead. As she pulled forward around the circular drive, she waved cheerily to Danny, hoping he didn't catch sight of the gritted teeth under her smile.

Mull it, my a.s.s. A speckle of rain drops sprouted on her windshield. More ghosts than Deidre's surfaced in her mind's eye.

I don't need this right now. Irrational anger at Danny flared in her. But she'd been the one to bring it up about California. And it wasn't Danny that she was angry with. She was still just as mad at G.o.d as she'd been thirteen years ago, when Anthony had died. And this d.a.m.n case, with all its gruesome, hateful secrets popping up like worms from a corpse, wasn't helping matters. Even if it was for her grandson's first communion, G.o.d was on her list, and no way was she going into His house. Not after Anthony.

When Rae paused for the mail at the beginning of her drive, a window envelope bearing Sandy's return address topped the pile. Her curiosity wouldn't let her wait. She tore it open and found her account had been brought current from Deidre's estate. Not that it was an earth-shattering amount, but it made her feel more confident that Danny, with Sandy's guidance, wasn't letting things get out of hand.

The red numeral four was flashing on her answering machine when she entered her office. She listened to two client calls, duly made notes of their problems. Fortunately, not the same two that had left early messages. She'd call them all back before the day was over.

The third call was from Stephen. "Hey, Mom. Sorry I missed you. I'm going to Miami for the weekend. You don't have to call me back. Not a big deal. Catch you later."

Oh, fine. That means it is a big deal.

Rae shook her head.

The fourth call was from Fredricka Halperin.

"Mrs. Esposito, I made a mistake about when I wrote my paycheck."

Rae noted the number on the caller ID. Not Bayfield Enterprises. In the ID box she read F. Halperin. Fredricka must have called from home. On a weekday. During business hours. Not a good sign. Rae frowned as she listened to the contrition in Freddie's voice. "I'm sorry for any inconvenience my mis-remembering may have caused you."