Quilting Mystery: Knot In My Backyard Part 23

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

Crusher laughed. "Actually, I like you much better as a woman." His voice softened and he stepped in close. "My woman."

You betcha! sang my body.

I put on a mental hair shirt. "Let's get out of here."

CHAPTER 36.

The Army Corps of Engineers was on the eleventh floor of a high-rise on Wilshire Boulevard between the 110 Freeway and Figueroa Street in downtown Los Angeles. Crusher hid his gun in the truck so he wouldn't get tagged going through the body scanner on the first floor.

We stepped off the elevator into a large beige room and met a pleasant-looking African-American woman sitting at a steel desk.

"I'm here to see Barbara Hardisty."

She smiled. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but if you tell her Martha Rose is here from Valley Allstar Construction, I'm sure she'll make the time to see me."

She gave me a puzzled look and made the call to Hardisty. After a minute, she put down the phone. "Follow me, please."

We walked past a dozen prefab tan steel cubicles populated by civil servants; worker bees nurturing the bloated hive of government. Crusher's boots landed heavily on the gray vinyl floor tiles, inviting curious stares.

The receptionist stopped at a bank of executive offices in the back and knocked on the third door in.

A woman's voice commanded, "Come!"

Barbara Hardisty sat in front of a window behind a cheap government-issued desk covered with fake wood veneer. Tall tan file cabinets lined the walls on either side, and two office chairs of the stacking variety faced the desk. Her brown hair was styled in an asymmetrical bob, hanging approximately to her shoulders. She scowled and didn't offer us a seat.

"You're the woman with those hideous pink shoes, aren't you?"

"Yes, but I'm also known as the woman who just informed the police of your connection to an illegal conspiracy between SFV a.s.sociates-specifically Jefferson Davis, Valley Allstar Construction-specifically Lowell Hardisty, and the Joshua Beaumont School-specifically the baseball stadium."

Crusher stood next to me, filling the s.p.a.ce like a silent monolith.

Hardisty's calculating eyes darted back and forth between us. "I've got no idea what you're talking about. That transaction was completely legal. You people have been whining about the stadium for years. Get over it."

"How about this? I'm also known as the woman who told the police you paid Allstar Construction- specifically Lowell Hardisty-with a million dollars of government money to destroy a federally protected wildlife reserve."

She crossed her arms. "I don't know where you're getting your information, lady, but I've done nothing illegal. The LAPD wanted that h.e.l.lhole cleaned up. Believe me, there are people who'll vouch for me all the way up to the highest levels in this city and beyond."

All the way to h.e.l.l, I'm guessing.

"You sent Lawanda Price to try to intimidate me. In case you don't know, along with conspiracy, fraud, bribery, and embezzlement, stalking is a serious crime. I have a photo of Price in the act last night. Time to call off your dogs."

Hardisty shuffled some papers on her desk. "You're just a hysterical n.o.body who wants to feel important. Why don't you go back to your quilting bee?"

It irked me Hardisty knew about the quilts because her spy, Price, watched us give them away to the homeless.

I put my hands on the back of a chair and leaned forward. "I've got two words for you-Dax Martin."

She looked up warily. "What about him?"

"Why was he killed? Did he know too much? Was he trying to blackmail one of you? Did he get greedy, like you?"

Hardisty busied herself rolling up a topographical map. "I don't know who killed the poor man, and I don't know why. I had nothing to do with his death."

"Oh no? When the police come after you, let's see which one of your high-level friends is going to risk an indictment in order to protect you. The higher up your so-called friends are, the more they'll have to lose if they do."

I swept my hand toward the bank of dull file cabinets. "Take a look around. Is this the office of someone who's valuable? You'll be thrown under the bus so fast-you won't know how you got there."

Hardisty's face reddened. "Get out of my office."

I couldn't help myself. I thought about my friend Hilda, the Acevedos, and all those poor, displaced homeless people. "You destroyed one of the few places homeless people could find refuge in this city. Jason and Emily, your kids. Where will they find refuge when both of their parents are in jail? I doubt the Beaumont School will still want them around. Don't worry. They won't be homeless. The state will split them up and place them in foster care. Good luck to them with that."

Barbara Hardisty stood behind her desk and shrieked, "Get out! Get out of my office now!"

I narrowed my eyes. "Grab a parachute, lady, because you're going down!"

Hardisty tried to hide her shaking hands.

Crusher and I waited until the elevator doors closed and we were alone before we b.u.mped fists.

"Maybe I said too much. Do you think I said too much?"

Crusher shook his head and laughed. "What'd I say before? Stones of steel."

We arrived at the first floor and Detective Kaplan flashed a badge on his way through security, followed by a couple of uniforms. Beavers must have checked out my evidence and clued in his partner, because Kaplan appeared to be coming after Hardisty.

I might have been able to hide myself among the people in the lobby, but Crusher was impossible to miss. Kaplan did a double take and then barreled his way toward us.

"What are you doing here?"

Crusher crossed his arms. "It's a free country."

Kaplan looked at me. "If I find out you've interfered in police business-again-I won't hesitate to throw you in jail-again. I don't care who you've been sleeping with."

Is it that obvious Crusher and I had s.e.x last night? Then I realized Kaplan was referring to Arlo Beavers. Kaplan didn't know Beavers and I weren't together anymore.

I lowered my voice and spoke confidentially. "Detective Kaplan, we just spoke to Barbara Hardisty and she says she has friends in high places in this city. Are you sure you've got enough authority to go after her?"

Predictably, Kaplan planted his thumb in his chest. "Of course I've got authority. I don't care whose friend she is. I'm taking her in for questioning."

"Wow. Okay, then. Good luck, and I mean it."

Kaplan smirked and swaggered toward the elevators.

Crusher muttered, "Putz."

Back in the truck, we hopped on the 110 Freeway north and transitioned to the 134 west to Encino. My confrontation with Hardisty left me elated, which meant I was also hungry. I checked the digital clock on the dashboard, relieved to find it was lunchtime.

"I'm starved. How about some lunch?"

Crusher let his eyes slide down my body and grinned. "I know what I want for lunch."

You betcha!

I struggled for control. "How about a falafel instead?"

Hilda wasn't in her usual spot near Rafi's on the Boulevard, nor was she inside. I hadn't heard from her since Monday and wondered if she was okay.

"She take recycle this morning like always, but then she leave, chik-chok." Rafi slapped his palms together. He pointed to a padded banquette seat running the length of one wall. "I let her sleep there."

He looked at Crusher and half-smiled. "You not from Health Department? You do not shut me down?"

"Oh, sorry, Rafi. This is my friend Yossi Levy."

Rafi grinned and stuck out his hand. "Levy? Atah medaber Ivrit?" ("You speak Hebrew?") Crusher took his hand and smiled. "Ketzat." A little.

Was Crusher just being modest? After all, he quoted Torah, chapter and verse, during Shabbat dinner last week. There was so much I didn't know about Yossi Levy, but what I did know I found intriguing and attractive. Unfortunately, I wasn't ready to let go of Arlo Beavers.

After lunch, Crusher drove back to my house. "You can just drop me off, Yossi. I don't need a bodyguard anymore. All of Hardisty's financial secrets are out, so she has nothing left to hide there. If she's protecting the killer, the police will find out. Either way, I'm the least of her worries. With Hardisty in custody, I doubt I'll see Lawanda Price again."

He cut off the engine and turned to me. "You're forgetting one thing, babe. The killer. The tall guy in the baseball cap with the funny voice-he's still out there."

"Why should I be worried?"

"Maybe he'll want revenge for blowing the whole fraud-and-conspiracy thing wide open."

"I don't think so. My money's still on Jefferson Davis. He had a double reason to want Dax Martin dead-one, for having an affair with his wife and two, for blackmail. The first motive we know for sure. The second one we're just guessing at. Either way, Davis has no reason to come after me."

Crusher appeared to agree I was probably safe. It was also clear how much he wanted to get me in bed again.

"Are you sure? I just don't feel right leaving you alone."

"I'm positive, Yossi. What happened between us last night was out-of-this-world, but it might never happen again. You have to give me a chance to figure things out on my own."

"Is this still about Beavers?"

"That's one part, yes."

He reached over and took my hand. "The other part?"

I smiled at the only man in the world who could make me feel like a size four. "You called me neshama. "

Crusher, aka Yossi Levy, closed his eyes and pressed his lips into the palm of my hand.

I got out of the truck and walked to the door without looking back. As soon I was inside the house, his engine started up and he drove away. I slumped against the door and breathed a sigh of relief mixed with a most sincere regret.

CHAPTER 37.

Simon Aiken answered on the third ring. "Yeah."

"Simon, I want you to know, last night I was officially questioned by Detective Beavers. I had to tell him everything."

"I know. Crusher called me this morning. He said you did fine. He even said you protected your sources. n.o.body could ask for more, Martha. Is he there?"

"No, I'm by myself." I told Simon about my little talk with Barbara Hardisty. "On our way out, we ran into Detective Kaplan. He showed up to take her in. What's happening with Ed?"

"The DA still seems determined to go forward. I'm prepping for the preliminary hearing. With all this new information we've uncovered, along with a dearth of evidence against Ed, I'm presenting a motion for dismissal."

"What about the pressure from the US Attorney's Office to prosecute?"

"They'll probably back down. They'll have their hands full defending the Army Corps of Engineers. The press has really jumped on the destruction of the wildlife reserve. We just learned the funds transferred to Valley Allstar Construction were misappropriated. They were federal relocation dollars specifically earmarked to help the homeless move from publicly owned lands to low-cost housing. Both Barbara and Lowell Hardisty are now in custody. Hopefully, the police will find out if they were also involved in Dax Martin's murder."

"I hope the Hardistys get what they deserve. What about the conspiracy to get the Beaumont Stadium built?"

"That's going to be a little tougher to prove, since the corruption involves so many sitting officials, but someone at the Times is working on it. Eventually the public will know about the scandal."

"So, does Ed still have to stay in jail?"

"Yes, at least until the hearing or until the real killer is found."

I bristled at the unfairness. "Dax Martin's memorial service is tomorrow at the baseball stadium. I'm sure Jefferson Davis will be speaking. I know he fits the physical description of the killer. I'm going over to check him out. I want to hear his voice."

"Be careful, Martha. They know who you are. Take Crusher with you."

"He's too easy to spot. I want to walk unnoticed through the crowd."

"Don't go alone."

"I'll take my friends with me. n.o.body will pay attention to three old ladies."

The smile came through Simon's voice. "Maybe your friends fit that description, but I know one big dude who definitely doesn't put you in the same category."

I was glad he couldn't see me blush.