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There was a knock on the door and Betty Harmon poked her head in. "Morning. Just wanted you to know that Mr. Dimer has arrived. Ms. Diamond and Mr. Wills are waiting in the conference room."
"Thanks, Betty. Tell them we'll join them in a moment, please."
As Greg and Laura walked into the conference room, Chuck Dimer stood out among the business attire with his black jeans, black tee shirt, and loafers.
"Morning, everyone," Greg said. "First, let me brief you on Laura's most recent problem." He brought them up to date on Steve's activities.
"I'm on it," Chuck said, leaving the room to place a call to Michigan. If he could prove that the girls had been left behind with their grandfather, it might sway a judge on custody.
Carrie leaned over and squeezed Laura's hand. "I'm sorry. If it were my kids -"
"Thank you. Just help me get them back."
"Chuck is the best. You'll see," Carrie murmured.
"Now let's get down to work," Greg said. "We have a lot of ground to cover. First, Rob will summarize the police details. Rob?"
"Right." He opened the file before him and glanced across the conference table until Laura looked up at him. "To recap what we know. When the police arrived, they found Dr. Nelson standing over the body beside a gun, a Colt thirty-eight, not traceable. Whoever it was maybe carries one of those around "just in case." My guess. Officers Parker and Belinsky arrive in a squad car exactly nine minutes after the call from upstairs. Neighbor says she heard a gunshot, didn't see anything unusual."
"Or hear anything. Like an argument, any voices?" Carrie asked.
"Just the shot. Cops think it's maybe a car backfire, no biggie. All else is just like you told us, Laura."
Laura grimaced.
"But no other prints on the thirty-eight," Greg confirmed.
"Only Laura's."
"No other prints on the scene, except the obvious - Steve Nelson's," Carrie added, "and an unknown. Presumably the guy Steve's renting from, considering they're all over the apartment."
"Right," Rob went on, "easy to check out."
"And Steve's alibi?" Carrie queried.
"Sounds solid. He was on the road with five kids. Stayed overnight in the Roadside Motel near Macon. Receipts check out," Rob added, glancing pointedly at Greg. "So far, n.o.body seems to think he's connected in any way."
"Was there a forced entry at the apartment?" asked Greg.
"None at all," Rob answered. "But remember, Laura said the door was unlocked when she got there."
"That's right," Laura offered. "I remember it distinctly."
"So maybe Kim had a key? Or maybe Nelson doesn't lock his door?"
"Lots of maybes. There's a lot we need to find out about Steve and Kim," said Carrie, "but go on, Rob."
"Okay. There's no doubt that the gun beside the victim, the one with your prints, Laura, was the murder weapon. Ballistics, a perfect match. I asked about a residue report. It's not in the file, but sometimes the lab holds off before running it. Sandra Mulloy said she'd check into it."
"What does that mean?" Laura asked.
"Standard routine," Rob answered. "They check your hands for gunpowder residue, to prove that you actually shot the gun. Without a positive residue, the fact is, they don't have much of a case."
"They did take my fingerprints, but that's all I remember. There was blood on my hands that they swabbed off -"
"You think they somehow screwed up and didn't get it before they let her wash her hands? Or are they playing games?" Greg wondered aloud.
"Your guess is as good as mine," Rob said. "Anyway, the autopsy confirmed cause of death. Bullet ripped through the left ventricle. But, Laura, there's something else that came up: you told them that you didn't own a gun?"
Laura turned two shades of red. "I know that was a mistake," she said, looking away. "It's true I don't 'own' a gun. I guess I never thought they'd find out about Steve's. He grew up with guns in northern Michigan. All the boys from there hunt." She turned to face Rob. "Does that mean they think I'm a liar?"
"Let's say it didn't help your credibility." Rob admitted.
"Is there anything else we need to know, Laura?" Carrie asked. "Anything that they know and we don't can only hurt you."
"Lies," Laura said. "They always come back to haunt you, don't they? Yes, there are a couple more. One, I told my housekeeper that I was going to the ER that night I went to Steve's. I simply didn't want to upset her. And I told Steve's former boss, George Granger, that I needed Kim's phone number to drop off some photography equipment - another lie. He gave it to me and I left that message on her phone."
"They know about the housekeeper. She said as much in a statement. But nothing from the other guy, so we'll let sleeping dogs lie. Only a little white lie anyway." A miniscule grin flickered on Rob's face. "I do have good news. They're looking into the abusive boyfriend you told us about. Turns out n.o.body's seen the guy around lately. Lopez and Goodnuf checked around. Interviewed the victim's friends, acquaintances, didn't get much."
Laura flinched at the mention of the detectives that had ruined her life. "You mean they're still investigating? That's a good sign, right?"
Rob shrugged. "They're just covering all the bases. Routine, they say, but Lopez did tell me that they knew about Santiago's occupation, so to speak. They're checking him out with RICO, but it's not likely they're going to share anything about that with us."
"What's RICO?" Laura asked.
"Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organization Act. The focus is on organized crime, and this Mr. Santiago is obviously part of our own Tampa mob."
"Steve said that Santiago beat Kim up and that she needed help," Laura offered. "It was his excuse for her being at our house the night I found them together."
Greg frowned. "Some kind of help."
Chuck walked back into the conference room. "Things are in motion. I've got a guy on the way to the Nelson house in Traverse City."
"What will he do when he gets there?" Laura's hand flew to her neck as she turned to face Chuck.
"He'll be discreet, confirm that the girls are there, that they're okay, and wait for instructions from here."
Chuck's authoritative baritone rea.s.sured Laura and she let her hand fall into her lap.
"He'll let me know the minute they make contact."
"Good," Greg said. "Meantime, we're talking about this Santiago character. What have you found on him?"
"Francisco Ramiro Santiago. Age forty-two. Born in Cuba. Grew up in Miami. Now in Ybor City runnin' narcotics. The guy looks like a Latino version of Wall Street. Expensive clothes, slick operator. Those in the know - who are willing to talk - say he made his way up the ladder in a nasty way. Also iced a few cops in his ill.u.s.trious career, including the partner of our own Detective Lopez back when he was on the street."
"The mob?" Carrie went wide-eyed. "As in The G.o.dfather? Here in Tampa?"
"The mob is alive and well in 'Cigar City'," a.s.sured Chuck. "The name Santo Trafficante Jr. mean anything to you?"
"No," Carrie said.
"Well it scares the s.h.i.t out of anybody in Mafia circles and aggravates the h.e.l.l out of the FBI. Feds have been tryin' to entrap him forever."
"I've read about him," said Greg. "Didn't he make some big donation to feed the ma.s.ses or something like that?"
"Yeah, right across the bay in St. Pete. But no way those handouts are gonna compensate for the bad s.h.i.t. Excuse my language, ladies."
"You're scaring me," said Carrie as she reached for the coffee pot. "Anybody else?"
"I'll take a refill." Greg held out a maroon Buccaneers mug.
"So how does this G.o.dfather person relate to Santiago?" Carrie continued.
"Santiago is like a captain or lieutenant to an underboss," explained Chuck. "A player not far down the feeding chain. There are several Latin factions apparently. Sometimes they work together, sometimes not. That's when you get blood baths. Guy by the name of Carlos Tosco out of Miami runs him. Our boy Santiago may be dapper, but behind that pretty facade, he's a dangerous creep."
"That is scary," said Laura. "I wonder how much Steve knows about him and those connections."
"For his sake, let's hope, not much," said Greg.
"Steve may be in over his head," Laura said, cringing at the thought.
"So where's the creep been?" asked Rob. "The cops can't find him for questioning."
"So Santiago could be the killer?" Laura mused.
"We're still digging for a true time frame," Chuck said. "The closest lead I have is a friend of Connor's, a Carmen Williams from Ybor City. Says that Santiago was in Miami around the time of the murder. Maybe she's right on it, maybe not. She's got a drug habit. Wants no part of the cops, but she's pretty broken up about Connor. I'll keep pressing her for details."
"I wonder if Steve knows her?" Laura looked absently toward Chuck.
"I need to talk to him," Chuck said. "If Connor used him as a confidant, that b.a.s.t.a.r.d - oops, sorry, Laura - must know more."
"I'm sure he does," said Laura. "But since he's so sure I did it, he won't even talk about looking for who really did."
"We'll see about that. Rob, anybody see anyone going in or out of the Oregon place?" Chuck asked.
"Police have covered all the neighbors. n.o.body saw anything. Kim's Firebird and a station wagon - presumably Laura's - were mentioned, but no other strange cars. The lady upstairs, the one who called in, did see Kim come in at least five minutes before she heard the shot. Couldn't see if she used a key, but none was found. Didn't see Laura come in though or anyone else."
Chuck nodded. "I'll follow on the heels of the uniforms. The lady upstairs is my first stop. Sometimes, people remember things later."
Laura looked at him intently.
"d.a.m.n. Somebody must've seen something," said Greg. "It was a Sunday night for G.o.d's sake. It was eighty-five degrees, people linger outside."
"Yeah, only problem, it was raining. Don't worry, I'll be all over this," said Chuck with confidence.
"That's right, it was raining," Laura added quietly.
"Now, as for Kim's place," Rob said, glancing toward Laura. "They have a recording of your call to Kim about an hour before she was killed. We have the transcript."
Laura winced. "I was so upset I can't even remember what I said."
Rob read aloud the brief message she'd left. "They're trying to make it out as a threat, you warning her to stay away from your kids. But it's weak."
"What about the messages I left on Steve's machine? They must have those too, right? I called at least four times looking for the kids."
Rob frowned. "Actually, Laura, there's a notation from Detective Lopez on that point. It looks like you brought this up in the initial interview, but when they retrieved the answering machine, there weren't any messages on it."
"What? That can't be. That means Steve - or someone - must've gotten the messages and -"
"Erased 'em?" offered Greg. To Rob, he said, "Is it something to worry about?"
Rob shrugged. "I can double check. But to be honest, the cops - well, they don't tend to believe Laura's story."
"They think I'm making it up," she mumbled. "Just another lie."
"Hmm. Well, anything else at Kim's place?" Carrie asked.
"Boxes. She was ready to move. The movers were scheduled for the next morning." Rob paused and checked his notes. "That's about it," he concluded, "although they didn't do much of a neighborhood check in my opinion."
Chuck nodded again. "I'll be digging in over there."
"My question is: what was Kim doing at Steve's place to begin with? According to the folks at Channel Eight, she ignored him at the station when he came back to collect his things," Carrie said.
"'Cool as a cuc.u.mber,' wasn't that the exact quote?" Rob asked.
Carrie concurred. "So why was she at Steve's house that night? The abusive boyfriend is back in town and she goes over to Steve's for safe haven?" She looked around at the ponderous faces.
"So the guy follows her over and he snuffs her," Chuck offered.
"Whatever happened," Carrie went on, "he got out fast with out leaving a trace of evidence."
"Carrie, you're getting good," Chuck said lightly. "Want to take over my role?"
The lawyers laughed as Greg looked at Laura, his smile waning. "What do you think?"
"I don't know. I really don't know."
"Well, it seems to me," Greg said, getting up to stretch his legs, "that we need more information from Steve about this gangster boyfriend."
"Yeah," added Chuck, "enough on this creep to convince the State to open up a more intensive investigation."
"So far the cops have nothing to connect him with her that night," Rob said. "Uh, Laura, do you remember them taking fingernail sc.r.a.pings, at the station? They'd test for signs of struggle to connect you that way," he explained.
"I...I don't remember that."
"Good enough. Well," Chuck said, "I'll start in Old Hyde Park, and then move on to Connor's medical records, including emergency rooms. Could be more abuse."
"Good, Chuck," Greg said. "That Connor woman was playing with fire. Wonder if the boyfriend found out about her liaison with Steve. And what about drugs? Chuck, you said she has a friend who's an addict? Could this be about drugs?"