Web of Evil

CHAPTER 17

Ali picked up the phone and tried her mother's room, but the call went directly to voice mail. With her father already on his way to Sedona, it was likely Edie was taking a nap. After the previous night's misadventures, that was hardly surprising. Ali left a message that she was going to meet a friend at the Claim Jumper in Valencia and let it go at that. And she gave Chris a pass as well. She was glad he was off having fun with his friends. That was fine.

What about calling Dave? Ali wondered. With no strings other than friendship, the man had literally spent days helping Ali and her family at every turn. Now that he was taking some time and several hours to drive back over to Lake Havasu to spend time with his kids, Ali couldn't, in good conscience, involve him againeither by calling him or leaving a message. In fact, she was determined this was something she would handle on her own.

Besides, how dangerous could it be to meet up with Roseanne Maxwell in what would no doubt be the middle of a crowded restaurant? Still, remembering Roseanne's concern about Ali's possibly being followed, she did check the rearview mirror from time to time as she drove north on I-5 just to make sure there was no one suspicious behind her. In actual fact, Ali was far less worried about bad guys following her than she was about one of the stray reporting teams who were still camped out in and around the hotel.

As for Roseanne Maxwell herself? She wasn't what Ali would have considered to be a frightening proposition. For one thing, she was slight of build with the best curve enhancement and facial redefining money could buy. For Roseanne beauty wasn't skin deepit was subcutaneous. For as long as Ali had known the woman, Roseanne had existed on a perpetual round of dieting and not dieting. That was why Roseanne's having set their meeting at an establishment known for its gigantic serving portions was a mystery in and of itself.

Ali had never been particularly close to Roseanne. Their husbands had been coworkers, competitors for the network job, and partners in the Sumo Sudoku scam. Ali and Roseanne had seen each other socially on occasion, but they definitely didn't qualify as good friends. Or even semi-friends. And why Roseanne would turn to her in a time of trouble was as much a mystery as where they were meeting.

It was six on the dot when Ali arrived at the Claim Jumper parking lot. The restaurant was jammed, and there was a crowd of people milling about outside, waiting for tables. Ali was about to walk inside and put her name on the list when a woman appeared at her side. Roseanne Maxwell was so changed that Ali barely recognized her.

The last time Ali had seen Roseanne had been at Paul's annual Christmas party the preceding year. She had been dressed to the nines with her hair piled on top of her head in a sophisticated platinum blond do, but the months since then had been anything but kind to Roseanne Maxwell. Her hair was brown now and cut short as well, shorn off in something that resembled chemo-patient chic. Ali barely recognized her.

The old Roseanne wouldn't have ventured out of the house without a complete assortment of high-end jewelry adorning her fingers, neck, and ears and a layer of full-armor-of-God makeup on her face. This new Roseanne wore no jewelry whatsoever, and her makeup consisted of a little lipstick and nothing else. Roseanne had stopped smoking years earlier. Without the ongoing attention of her cosmetic surgeon and artfully applied Botox, the telltale lines had reasserted themselves. In less than a year she had aged a good decade's worth.

Roseanne grabbed Ali's arm and hugged her close. "I know. I know," she whispered. "I look like hell. You don't have to tell me. Come on," she added. "I came early. I already have a table."

Ali allowed herself to be led through the crowded restaurant to a secluded table in the far back of the room.

"Nobody followed you, did they?" Roseanne asked nervously.

Taking her phone out of her pocket and turning the ringer to "silent," Ali shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. "I checked."

"I hope you don't mind meeting me here. Carrie, the hostess, is a friend of mine. I met her in NA. I needed a place to stay, and she happened to have a spare bedroom in her house. So that's where I'm staying at the moment. And because I can't risk driving my own car right now, she gave me a lift when she came to work."

"NA?" Ali asked.

"Narcotics Anonymous," Roseanne returned. "I'm trying to get straight, if I can live long enough, that is." She patted her badly cut hair. "Good disguise, don't you think?"

"Very," Ali agreed. "Now what's going on?"

For an answer, Roseanne opened her purse and pushed a ziplock bag across the table. Ali picked it up and studied it. A collection of jewels and golddiamond-studded rings, necklaces, earrings, and braceletswinked back at her through the clear plastic.

"What's this?" Ali asked, handing the bag back across the table.

"My jewelry," Roseanne said. "I need to sell itall of it. If I go to a pawnshop, I'll only get a fraction of what they're worth. Besides, I'm sure word of it would get back to Jake. Please buy them from me, Ali. I know you've got the money to do it, and it's my only chance to get away. Just give it to me in cash, and then I'll disappear. No one will ever find me. If they do, I'm dead anyway."

"Get away?" Ali asked. "From whom?"

"The people who ruined our lives," Roseanne replied, lowering her voice to a strained whisper. "The people who killed Paul."

"What people?" Ali demanded. "The drug dealers?"

"You know about them then?" Roseanne asked with a stricken look on her face.

Ali nodded. "A little," she said. "But not enough. You probably know way more. You should go to the cops and tell them what you know."

"I can't," Roseanne said in a hoarse whisper.

"Why not?"

"Because some of the cops are in on it. I've seen them."

Ali's first reaction was one of total disbelief. Obviously Roseanne was suffering some kind of paranoid delusion. If she was involved in drugs enough that she had turned to NA for help, maybe that wasn't too surprising.

"Look," Ali said placatingly. "I'm sure you have some reason to think so, but"

"I'm afraid somebody tapped my phone," Roseanne said. "My old phone. I'm sure they were listening in on everything I said. Who else would have done that but the cops? That's why I got this new onea disposable. They're much harder to trace than the other ones are."

Ali restrained herself from making a wry comment about conspiracy theories and people wearing tinfoil hats. Roseanne Maxwell was absolutely serious. Painfully so.

"It takes a lot of effort to tap telephones," Ali pointed out. "Cops can't do it just for the hell of it. They'd need judges, warrants, and everything."

"They already have those," Roseanne said.

"Who's doing this then?" Ali asked. "And why?"

At that precise moment, Ali's phone vibrated silently in her pocket. With Roseanne already off the charts about people tapping telephones, Ali thought it best to ignore the call.

Roseanne sighed. "You know about the Pink Swan?"

"Some," Ali replied. "I know there's a lot more happening there than meets the eye."

Roseanne nodded. "When we first started going there, it seemed like it was all fun all the time. Jake always liked to gamble. It was a place where I could go along and do my thing while he was doing his. But eventually he got in over his head, and it got worse after the network cut him loosea lot worse."

Ali managed to keep a straight face when Roseanne used the term "cut loose." It turned out there was a lot of that going around.

"That's how those people work," Roseanne continued. "They suck you in a little at a time. Like I said, at first it was just Jake's gambling and a few recreational drugs for me. It felt like a nice place, a safe place, because we had no idea what else was going on. By the time we figured out the rest of it, we were in way too deep. Jake said we either did what they said or else."

"So you moved from using drugs to transporting them?" Ali asked.

Roseanne looked at her sharply, then she nodded. "Yes," she admitted. "That's where Sumo Sudoku came in. It gave them a whole collection of RVs that they can use to run up and down the West Coast. That way, their loads come and go in plain sight with no questions asked. So far no one has ever suspected they're hauling anything but those damn rocks."

No one but Dave and me, Ali thought. "Paul was in on all of this?" she asked.

"No," Roseanne answered. "Even though April and Tracy McLaughlin were friends, Jake was the one who actually pitched the Sumo Sudoku idea to Paul. When it came time to put the deal together, Paul put up his money. I'm sure he thought we were putting up ours, too. But the money we used didn't really belong to us because we were broke by then, or we would have been."

"So the whole Sumo Sudoku thing is really nothing but a cover for moving drugs?" Ali asked.

"It's actually more than that," Roseanne admitted. "By involving Paul in the project, they ended up with what looks like a legitimate entity, and there was enough money in the deal for Jake that we were able to hang on to our house. They promised Jake even morelots moreif he could get Sumo Sudoku some network exposure and have it go national."

No wonder they needed Paul, Ali thought. "What about the players?" she asked.

"The guys who drive the RVs?" Roseanne returned. "They all have their own particular vices, and the Pink Swan is a one-stop shop when it comes to that kind of thing. Tracy McLaughlin doesn't do any drugs other than cigarettes and beer. His big thing is gambling. That's how they hooked him ingambling debts and forgiveness of same."

Ali realized this was more or less the same story Jake had told but with a few key differences.

"With so many illegal activities going on, how does the Pink Swan stay in business?" Ali asked.

"They pay off the right people," Roseanne responded. "I know for sure that several top dogs from LAPD are regulars at the gambling tables upstairs. I know them because I've seen them. The Pink Swan's management makes sure the club and its customers don't annoy the neighbors. The place is clean, it's quiet, and the club does a lot of strategic charitable giving. I hear they're big on putting playground equipment in local parks."

"What about the DEA?" Ali asked.

"What about them?" Roseanne asked with a shrug. "I don't know any people from the DEA personally, if that's what you mean, but they could be there. After all, if people from LAPD can be bought off, why couldn't people from the DEA? We're talking about astonishing amounts of money, Ali. Cops who play ball with them can make more money in a year than they'd make in a lifetime of pounding a beat somewhere."

A harried waitress veered in their direction, but Roseanne waved her away with a shake of her head while Ali thought about what Dave had said about the possibility of an ongoing undercover DEA investigation being conducted at the Pink Swan. Maybe there was something to what Roseanne was saying after all.

"You said you were going to tell me about Paul," Ali said.

Nodding, Roseanne took a deep breath. "I guess you know what it feels like to be cast aside," she said finally.

"I've met Amber, if that's what you mean," Ali said. She might have couched the comment a little more diplomatically. When Roseanne's eyes filled with tears, Ali was sorry she hadn't.

"She was at the house?" Roseanne asked. "At my house?"

Ali nodded.

"That didn't take long. I suppose I should have known she would be," Roseanne said. "There's a lot that goes over your head when you're screwed up on cocaine. I should have figured out what was happening, but by the time I noticed, it was too late. Amber already had her hooks in him."

Roseanne was right. For Ali Reynolds, the idea of an older wife being shoved aside in favor of a younger one was another all-too-familiar story.

"Amber was always there at the Pink Swan," Roseanne continued. "And why wouldn't she be? Her grandmother owns the place. It wasn't until I got in the program and started trying to straighten out my life that I could see what was what. It seemed to me that if I could just get rid of Amber, Jake and I might be all right. I mean, the two of us have a history together. Even if we lost everything else, I thought we'd at least have each other."

Why does she want him? Ali asked herself. What's to hang on to?

"But I didn't have nerve enough to go to the cops myself," Roseanne went on. "For one thing, I'm in it, too. So I blew the whistle to Paul instead. I told him everything I knew and everything I suspected about Jake and the others taking Paul for a ride."

"What happened?" Ali asked.

"At first I don't think Paul believed me, but he must have started looking into things on his own. Last Wednesday morning he called me and told me that maybe I was right about what was going on, but with everything coming up over the weekendwith both the divorce hearing and the weddinghe had decided not to do anything more about it until after he and April got back from their honeymoon.

"I begged him not to let anyone know I was the one who had told him," Roseanne continued. "He promised he wouldn't, but once I got off the phone with him, I got scared. I was afraid he might go to Jake instead. That's when I decided I needed to disappear. The next day, when Kimball was out getting groceries, I grabbed what I could from the house, then I took off and came here. When I heard Paul was dead, I knew I had been right. If I hadn't run away when I did, I'd be dead by now, too."

The waitress returned, more determined this time, with her order pad in hand. Neither Ali nor Roseanne had yet to glance at their menus.

"House salad," Ali said. "Ranch dressing and iced tea."

"I'll have the same," Roseanne said.

Clearly disappointed by their long delayed but paltry order, the waitress rolled her eyes and stomped off in the direction of the kitchen.

"But what makes you think your phone was tapped?" Ali asked, once the waitress was out of earshot.

"Paul's dead, isn't he?" Roseanne asked. "He didn't know anything about what was going on until I told him, and when I did, someone must have been listening in on my phone."

Or on Paul's, Ali thought. If Paul and Jake were partners, and if the authorities managed to get wiretapping warrants as a part of a drug-busting investigation, they'd have gotten warrants for the phones of all parties involved and perhaps even for their spouses' phones as well. At the time of Paul's death, Ali had still been his wife. Did that mean Ali's phone might have been tapped, too?

"That's why Paul's death is my fault," Roseanne continued as her eyes once more filled with tears. "If I hadn't told him what was going on, maybe he wouldn't be dead now."

"If the Pink Swan is a front for a major drug operation, I still think you should go to the cops," Ali said. "All of LAPD doesn't hang out around there. Surely there must be someone you could talk to?"

"But how am I supposed to know which ones are crooked and which ones aren't?" Roseanne returned. "As far as I can tell, they all are."

That's when Ali thought of Dave. He was, without a doubt, one of the world's straightest arrows.

"Look," Ali said. "I have a friend who's visiting right now, a cop from over in Arizona. He couldn't possibly be mixed up in any of this. Why don't you talk to him?"

"No," Roseanne said firmly. "No cops. Period. Why do you think they killed Paul? To let the rest of us know that even talking about going to the cops is a capital offense as far as they're concerned."

"What about talking to an attorney then?" Ali asked. "I know a top-drawer defense attorney. His name is Victor Angeleri. You're obviously involved in all this and you know what's really going on. Why don't you call him and let him see what kind of deal he could cut for you in terms of witness protection?"

"I don't believe in witness protection programs any more than I believe in the Tooth Fairy," Roseanne returned. "That wouldn't stop them. If they killed Paul, they'll find me and kill me, too. Even if I get sent to jail, they'll still come after me. That's why I'm hoping you'll help me out. I don't need a lot of money. I have a place down in Mexico where I can live cheaply for a very long time. I just need some cash to make it work."

Roseanne pushed the jewel-laden ziplock bag back in Ali's direction. It lay there on the tabletop between them for the better part of a minute. Then, when the waitress reappeared with their salads and iced teas, Roseanne snatched the bag off the table and stuffed it back into her purse and out of sight.

Once again they waited until the waitress had walked away from their table.

"If these people are so all-powerful and all-knowing, who are they? You may have your suspicions that they're responsible for what happened to Paul, but do you have any proof?"

"I just know it," Roseanne said fervently. "I know it in my bones."

"That's not good enough."

"By the time I get proof, I'll be dead, too," Roseanne said.

Ali had to admit that was a pretty telling argument. She decided to change tactics. "So these people are all tied in with the Pink Swan," she said. "Tell me about that."

"The bottom floor is just your basic topless joint with a bar and nude dancing, and all the rest of it. That one is open to the public. Upstairs is privatean upscale gentlemen's club they call it. That's where the real action isall kinds of action. You can go there and do whatever you want and nobody bothers you, especially no reporters. They don't come near the place."

"Who owns it?" Ali asked.

"A lady named Lucia Joaquin. At least, her name is the one on the liquor license. She's the widow of a major player in one of the Colombian drug cartels. Years ago when her husband was gunned down, she came here with her kids along with a ton of money, money she managed to invest in real estate all over L.A."

"Drug money?" Ali asked.

"I'm sure," Roseanne answered with a nod. "But just because she moved out of the country didn't mean she moved out of the drug business. She's kept her hand in the whole time she's been here. Her two sons may work for her, but even though she's been sick, Lucia is still the real brains behind the outfit. She's also the one who gave the Pink Swan its name. I've never met her, but I've been told she always wears pinkfrom head to toe."

"What about the sons?" Ali asked.

"Mario and Reynaldo," Roseanne replied. "They both went to school here in the States. One's an MBA type and the other's more of an engineer. Lucia's money comes rolling in from whatever source. The sons figure out ways to turn all that illicit cash into something more or less legitimate."

"Like Sumo Sudoku?" Ali asked.

Roseanne nodded. "Exactly."

"Which one of the sons is Amber's father?"

"Neither," Roseanne answered. "There was a third childa daughter. I don't know her name. She died years ago. Lucia raised Amber and thinks she can do no wrong. Unfortunately, Amber doesn't have quite the same work ethic her grandmother has. But she's going to be loaded one of these days, so I can see why Jake might be interested in her. As for why Amber's interested in Jake?" Roseanne added. "I have no idea."

Having met the young woman in question the previous night, Ali could have told Roseanne that Amber came with her own set of problems, but she didn't.

"So will you help me or not?" Roseanne asked, going back once again to the jewelry.

Ali thought about it. Roseanne had brought her here under false pretenses. She had claimed to have information about Paul's death, but from Ali's point of view, what she had offered was little more than unsubstantiated suspicionsnone of them enough to make Ali's trip worthwhile.

"I think my answer is not," Ali replied. "The only reason you brought me here was to unload your jewelry and get some cash."

"But" Roseanne began.

Ali stood up. "If you decide you want to go to that lawyer or to the cops and tell them what's going on, call me again and we'll talk. In the meantime, Roseanne, I'm afraid you're on your own."

A despairing Roseanne watched as Ali flagged down the waitress. Roseanne was still seated at their table as Ali left. Enough time had passed that only a few stragglers still lingered outside, waiting for tables. Ali started through them and was headed for her car when someone called after her.

"Ms. Reynolds?"

Thinking it was someone who recognized her from her days on the news, Ali stopped and turned back to find the hostess hurrying after her. "Yes."

"There's a phone call for you at the hostess desk," Carrie said. "You can take it back inside. There's an extension on the wall there by the restrooms."

Why would someone be calling me here? Ali wondered. The only person who had known she was coming to Claim Jumper was her mother. That was probably the call she had ignored earlier.

"Thank you," Ali said, allowing herself to be led back into the restaurant. When she picked up the receiver, Ali was amazed to find Dave Holman on the phone.

"What's going on?" Ali wanted to know. "How did you know to call me here? Did you talk to Mom?"

"Listen to me for a minute," he said urgently. "Is Roseanne still there?"

"Yes, but"

"Good," Dave Holman said, sounding relieved. "I'm glad I got here in time."

Ali glanced around the restaurant but didn't see him anywhere. "You're here? Where? I thought you were on your way to Lake Havasu."

"Things changed. Roxie had made other plans and didn't want me dropping in on the kids unannounced.' In the meantime, I'm in Valencia now. At a pay phone directly across the street from the Claim Jumper."

"You followed me here? Why? What's happening? And you still haven't told me why you didn't call on my cell."

"The last few days," he said, "with everything that's been going on, I've managed to make friends with Bruno Cutler, the head of security at your hotel. Late this afternoon, someone came speeding into the hotel parking garage. He waved what was supposedly an LAPD badge at the garage attendant and said he was there to check on a stolen vehicle. The attendant didn't think that much about it at the time, but later on, when Bruno was reviewing the garage security tapes, he noticed someone messing around with your vehicle, and he called me."

"Someone was messing with my Cayenne?" Ali asked. "Who and why?"

"I've seen the tape now, too," Dave said. "And I'm pretty sure I know who it was. You do, too. He drives a Honda Element, and he's parked outside the restaurant right now. The Element is parked right next to your Porsche."

"Tracy McLaughlin followed me here?" Ali asked. "How could he? Roseanne was afraid someone might try to follow me, so I checked. There was no one anywhere near me."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you," Dave replied. "I think McLaughlin stuck a GPS tracking device under your rear bumper. If they were using one of those, there would have been no need to keep your vehicle in sight. The tape shows him taking something small out of his pocket and then reaching up toward the underside of your back bumperright in the middle of it, straight down from the lock."

"I don't understand. Why would Tracy McLaughlin want to find me?" Ali asked.

"I think the people Tracy works for are looking for Roseanne Maxwell. Tracy followed you in hopes you'd lead him to her."

Which I did, Ali thought with a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

"But how could Tracy possibly know I was coming to see her?" Ali asked at last.

"Good question," Dave said. "That's why I'm calling you on the restaurant phone instead of your cell. It's why I'm not using my cell, either."

Ali stopped short, remembering Roseanne's concerns about the likelihood of her phone being tapped. Now Dave shared that worry.

"Are you saying someone may have been listening in on my cell phone calls?" Ali asked.

"Affirmative," Dave replied.

"What should I do then?" Ali returned.

"Where is Roseanne?"

"Still at our table. She rode here with a friend who works at the restaurant. I imagine she's planning on staying until the friend gets off work."

"Whatever you do, don't let her leave," Dave said urgently. "Did she tell you anything important?"

"She told me a little," Ali said. "But I thought she was delusional and making a lot of it up."

"I only wish that were the case."

"So you've found out more?"

"Lots more," Dave answered, "but let's not go into that right now. Just wait until I get there."

"You're coming in?"

"Yes," he said. "As soon as I can."

"What if Tracy spots you?"

"I'll wait until there's another fairly large group and try to blend in with them," Dave said. "He's waiting for you to come out. With any kind of luck, he won't be paying that much attention to people going in."

"What are we going to do?" Ali asked. "Do you have a plan?"

"Not yet," Dave allowed. "When I come up with one, I'll let you know."

"I'll go back to the table and tell Roseanne to stay put. When you get here, talk to the hostess. Her name is Carrie, and she's Roseanne's friend. Carrie will be able to tell you where we are."

"Will do," Dave said, and hung up.

Still stunned by the idea that she'd been followed after all, Ali made her way back to the corner table. Roseanne didn't look up until Ali was standing directly over her.

"What happened?" she asked. "I thought you were leaving."

"So did I," Ali returned. "I changed my mind."

Roseanne brightened. "Does that mean you're going to buy my jewelry after all?"

"No," Ali replied grimly. "It means I'm going to try to save your butt."