Motion to Kill

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

St. John handed Mason an order issued an hour ago freezing all of Sullivan and Christenson’s assets pending a hearing on July 27. Mason gave it back to him with his most gracious smile.

“You are ever diligent, but you’ll still have to take a ride upstairs.”

“Are you refusing to accept service of the court’s order?”

“Sorry. It’s not my firm anymore. But I’ll sleep better knowing that you’re watching over my interests as a taxpayer.”

Mason smiled, and he and Sandra left them standing at the elevator. Out on the sidewalk, he tilted his face to the sun, soaking in the warmth.

“You know something, Sandra? I may actually enjoy unemployment.”

“I know. There’s something liberating about it, at least until we don’t get our next paycheck. You know what? Screw it! Let’s celebrate! How about dinner?”

“Wish I could. I’m meeting Kelly Holt at J.J’s.”

She grabbed his arm. “Perfect! I can’t wait to see the look on her face when we tell her what happened. I’ll see you there!”

Under normal circumstances, Mason would have enjoyed the prospect of dinner with two attractive women, both of whom were showing more interest in him than he deserved, but there was nothing normal about the circumstances. Kelly had asked him to dinner to talk about Sullivan’s murder, but they both knew that was a pretext, thin cover for what happening between them. There was no room at the table for Sandra, but she had outmaneuvered him.

Sandra was waiting for him outside J.J.’s, wearing a dress with a plunging neckline and thigh-high slit that would cheer up the fleet. Mason took a deep breath and opened the door for her. The hostess led them to the table where Kelly was sitting with Blues, who was between sets.

“Nice to see you, Kelly,” Sandra said, extending her hand. “Lou invited me to join you for dinner. We both got fired today, so we thought we could cheer each other up.”

Kelly took her hand for an instant as she interrogated Mason with raised eyebrows.

“It was a bloodless coup,” Mason said. “Scott Daniels lined up the votes in a secret meeting this morning after O’Malley fired the firm. He blamed everything on me. Sandra was guilty by association.”

“Well, at least you’ve still got a job,” Blues said to Kelly.

Sandra interrupted. “I’m Sandra Connelly,” she said to Blues.

Blues looked up at her from the table. He had a thin sheen of sweat, more like a glow, from the set he’d just finished. “That’s fine,” he told her, giving her a long and appreciative look. “That’s very fine.”

She returned his stare with her own. “And who are you and what do you do?”

“I’m Blues. I’m just the piano player.”

“That’s very fine,” she said and sat next to him.

Kelly rose and signaled Mason to follow her to the bar.

“I’m afraid that my day didn’t turn out any better than yours. The vial we found in Pamela’s dresser drawer was saline solution, not insulin. The DA decided there weren’t any votes left in the case and dropped the charges.”

“Does that take Pamela off your short list?”

“No. She lost a husband with HIV and found twenty million dollars. That’s a combination that will keep anybody on my short list. Did you really ask her to join us?”

Mason put his hand on the small of her back and pulled her toward him. “Not a chance. She just tries too hard.”

Kelly put her hands on his chest. “Don’t make the same mistake.”

When they finished dinner and Blues finished his last set, the four of them left together, walking around the corner to a side street where they had parked. Mason and Kelly held hands, Blues and Sandra behind them, their arms locked, two couples riding a soft wine buzz. They stopped on the sidewalk at Mason’s car when Kelly screamed.

“Gun!”

She shoved Mason to the sidewalk as a black Escalade sped toward them, a man leaning out the backseat window, spraying them with automatic fire. Mason looked up long enough to see the slash on the shooter’s face where his left eye should have been.

Blues lay on top of Sandra, shielding her. Kelly returned fire as the Escalade made the corner turn and disappeared.

“You okay?” she asked Mason.

“Yeah,” he said, shaking as he stood. “That Escalade-I’d swear it’s the same one from the highway on the way back from the lake.”

“Stay here.”

Kelly made a wide circle, flashing her badge and motioning bystanders who’d rushed onto the street to back up, protecting the crime scene. When the first police officers arrived, she handed the scene off to them and joined Mason, who was leaning against a tree, his heart slowing to a normal rhythm.

“You recognized the car. I recognized the shooter. It was Jimmie Camaya.”

“The guy gets around. Who was he after? You or me?”

Her eyes were red, her jaw clenched. “Do you have a preference?”

“Yeah,” he said, taking her in his arms. “Me. It’s not even close.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, taking his hand. “I didn’t mean that. This case is tough enough. If Camaya is involved, it’s only going to get uglier.”

“Boogeymen and ghosts.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t hit either one of them.”

A tall, beefy, barrel-chested man wearing an olive gabardine suit, his shirt damp around the collar, interrupted them. His face was large, round, and uneven, like a pumpkin.

“Lou, what are you doing in this mess?”

Mason smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Damn, Harry! Am I glad to see you! It’s a long story. I’ll let her tell you. Sheriff Kelly Holt, say hello to Detective Harry Ryman.”

“Kansas City Police Department, ma’am,” Harry said.

“Kelly Holt,” she replied. “Pope County Sheriff.”

“Harry’s like family,” Mason explained.

“What he means is, his aunt Claire and me been together long enough to be family. So what’s this about?”

Kelly gave him a quick rundown on the murders of Richard Sullivan and Harlan Christenson and her ID of Jimmie Camaya. Harry took notes, then turned to Mason.

“Your aunt is worried about you-you know that, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“And this cluster isn’t going to help any. You get yourself killed and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Mason laughed. “I’ll do my best to keep you out of the doghouse.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Harry pointed to Mason’s Acura. The car was peppered with bullet holes. “It’s evidence. We’ll have to tow it in. I’ll let you know when you can have it back.”

Blues and Sandra joined them. Harry and Blues barely acknowledged each other.

“Evening, Detective Ryman,” Blues said.

“I should have known you’d be in the middle of this mess, Bluestone,” Harry said.

“Lou and his friends stopped in for dinner. That’s all.”

“There’s no such thing as ‘that’s all’ with you. You were trouble when you were on the force, and nothing’s changed.” Turning to Mason, he added, “I’ll get someone to take you home.”

“Save it, Ryman,” Blues said. “I’ve got him.”