Chapter 11: Chapter Ten

Declan arrived shortly before the CSU and Secret Service agents. Soon, the bowling alley transformed into a crime scene once again. Since they no longer needed to take Cael home, Wes suggested they leave, and Minka could sense his, Cael’s, and Declan’s surprise when she didn’t protest. No doubt relieved, they didn’t question it, but on the drive home, her impish husband slid his eyes over to her in a considering fashion.

“I would’ve guessed you’d want to stay with them a little longer.”

“Well, I’m sure they can manage. I need to put Caela to bed, anyway.” She tried to sound mature and logical, before admitting the truth. “Plus, I planted a bug on Cael when I hugged him.”

“A bug? Are you kidding, Minka? When and how did you get your hands on one of those?”

“Back in my patrol days.” Her confession elicited utter shock to overtake his face, and she struggled to stifle her laughter. “This guy was trying to sell Gus some new security gadgets for the force, but being the fiscally-minded man that he is, he passed on them. Since I had some mad money and had just started dating this mysterious teacher, I indulged myself.”

“Let me get this straight: You’ve been spying on me for our entire relationship?”

She raised her brow at him, enjoying the conversation to the full. “Do you suppose you would’ve landed in WITSEC if I had? I just broke it out when my curiosity struck. I had it in your apartment until you proposed and then snuck it in your pocket the night of your bachelor party. There was one time when—”

Wes threw up his hand to stop her there. “Do our marriage a favor and don’t go any further.”

She rubbed his shoulder. “I just didn’t want to lose you, honey. And I can assure you I’ve never used the surveillance camera I bought…well, at least not on you. I installed it to keep an eye on Robin.”

“I can’t fault you for that.”

After they returned home and she put Caela to bed, she started listening to Cael and Declan. Though half an hour had passed before she turned on her receiver, Minka deduced that the owner of the bowling alley hadn’t yet arrived at the makeshift mint. Just as they began to discuss how they’d track him down, from a distance Mario Vega started shouting in Spanish.

Upon entering the room, however, he abruptly switched to English. “What are you doing in here? This is private property!”

Cael’s voice remained calm. “Your employee kindly let us in, sir, after a person of interest in Perry Hamilton’s assault emerged from this room.”

“Like I said back then,” Vega maintained. “I don’t know anything about that night. I wasn’t there, and the surveillance footage is long gone by now. I don’t understand why that even matters, with the guy dead and all.”

“He may be dead, but this counterfeiting operation in here seems to be alive and strong,” Declan retorted. “Tell us, how long have you been printing phony dough?”

“What? I’m no counterfeiter,” Vega insisted.

“Tell that to all the printers and ripe cash,” Cael replied, making Minka giggle.

“I honestly don’t have a clue about this,” Vega whined, all innocent. “I rent the room out for extra income and don’t intrude in my renters’ business.”

“Who are your renters, then?” Declan asked.

Vega paused. “I don’t have to talk to you.”

“No, you don’t,” Cael admitted. “But you will when we request a warrant to go through your business accounts. If you aren’t in charge of this scam, I suggest you start talking so we don’t arrest the wrong guy.”

Another pause followed before Vega muttered, “The guy’s name is Steadman Rissdale.”

****

“Man, this guy just won’t go away,” Wes remarked the next morning when Minka filled him in on the prior night’s events.

“Nope. Cael’s going to work with the Secret Service on getting ahold of the investigators in Quebec and discuss all of this with them.” She told him what the two detectives discussed after they left the bowling alley. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”

“Your sleuthing ways never cease to frighten me.” He kissed her head and grabbed his coffee. “I didn’t sleep well because I was too preoccupied with Minka-gate. I keep wondering how much you have on me.”

She smiled. “If you play your cards right, you’ll never have to find out.”

He shook his head just as the door to the garage opened.

“Morning, dude,” Wes greeted his brother-in-law.

Robin muttered something under his breath, and Minka surmised it wasn’t one of his better days. She hoped her breakfast for him would cheer him up. “I’m making you an omelet sandwich, like the ones Dad used to do on weekends.”

Robin narrowed his eyes at her. “What? Why?”

“I just figured you hadn’t had one in a while.”

“Dad made me a couple when I stayed with them last month.”

His lack of appreciation wore her nerves thin. “Maybe Wes or I can eat it, then.”

“No, I’ll have it,” her brother whined. “I just don’t understand why you’re being so nice all of a sudden.”

Minka had been debating whether or not to inform him of the latest breaks in the case, and this presented a prime opportunity. Every lead pointed away from him, making it easier to trust his innocence, but she was still afraid to tell him that. Thankfully, her daughter’s cry spared her from having to divulge her secret.

She pointed at the baby monitor. “That’s why. Because one day, she’ll probably have a younger sibling, and I’d like to have some credibility when I tell her to be a good big sister.”

On her way out, Minka caught him snickering again, a sight she couldn’t grow tired of, given how rare it was. As difficult as he was to live with, that brief moment eased some of her anxiety. Climbing the stairs, she could only wish that side of him would surface more often.

She picked up her baby and changed her diaper, before she headed back down to finish making breakfast. As her foot hit the last step, the doorbell rang. She opened the door to Cael, and Wes joined them to listen to him recount his night of investigating. They both, of course, anticipated every development he related, but neither let on to that. Still, Wes gave her an occasional glance, his eyes beaming with mischief.

Cael didn’t stay long, since he was on his way to the station, and once he left, Robin emerged from the kitchen. “Hamilton was running a counterfeiting operation in the bowling alley?”

“Eavesdropping is rude.” Minka’s remark prompted her husband to give her a sidelong glance, silently calling out her double standard.

“At least it explains why you’re acting so chummy with me—you finally realize I’m innocent.”

Minka picked up on his animosity but failed to understand it. “Aren’t you glad I do?”

He shrugged. “Sure. I’m just disappointed you needed your ‘real brother’ to convince you of it.”

****

Cael and Declan had made contact with Quebec by midmorning but with few results. Though the detective they spoke to was grateful for the input on their end, he had little to say that would benefit them. They hadn’t stumbled across anything related to Hamilton in their investigation, and they’d recovered all the counterfeit bills Rissdale had distributed. Nonetheless, they agreed to stay in touch, but when the conversation ended, Cael and Declan again had to swallow the fact that they were pretty much on their own.

Because of the late hour, they hadn’t searched the rest of the bowling alley or the locker Minka had noticed the night before. True, they still couldn’t prove whether the P.H. stood for Perry Hamilton, but with the emergency warrant the DA had issued in hand, they would soon be able to.

Vega was acting as bartender to the tortured souls who’d already had one too many before one o’clock in the afternoon. Not to the detectives’ surprise, he grimaced when they entered the room.

The owner manifested a cocky front around his patrons. “You here for lunch, Detectives? I presumed we settled our business last night.”

“We just have a couple of follow-up questions for you, sir,” Declan explained.

Cael displayed the document. “It won’t take much of your time, especially if you comply with this warrant.”

Vega’s confidence yielded to his shaken confusion, and he excused himself from his customers. “Another warrant? Didn’t you guys already discover what you needed to in the back room?”

“Yes, but we suspect there’s more here that’s connected to our investigation. We’d like to start with one of your lockers—number fifty-eight, to be exact,” Cael stated.

“Those lockers contain my patrons’ personal property. As far as I’m concerned, you need to get the renter’s permission, not mine.”

“They’re owned by you and on your property. Besides, a search warrant doesn’t ask permission.”

With no other choice, Vega grabbed the master key and escorted them into the room. Begrudgingly, he opened the one under suspicion, which held a billiards bag.

Vega grinned. “See? Nothing of interest.”

Cael stopped him from shutting it. “Not so fast.”

Throwing up his arms in obvious frustration, Vega left the room. Cael put on his gloves and picked up the bag. He sat down on the bench behind him before unzipping it. As in their previous discoveries, he caught sight of more counterfeit bills. Unlike in the safe and the wannabe mint, they were loose rather than in neat stacks. He drew out a few of them and found even more discrepancies on them.

He passed one to Declan to examine the ink blotches and low-quality paper. “Man, these are really botched.”

Some were worse than others, but it was clear none of them were the crooks’ best work. He dug deeper into the bag, and his hands latched onto a note buried underneath the phonies. The instant he unfolded it, he recognized Hamilton’s penmanship.

I think I caught all of them on my part. Took care of firing the kid, too. Hope it wasn’t too late for you.

Sorry, bud, Perry “Looks like the counterfeiting department is hiring these days,” Declan joked.

Still taking it all in, Cael realized there was writing on the other side, too. It was a receipt from a convenience store. He scoured over it for any more hints. Though the list of the items Hamilton purchased yielded no insight into the case, the date in the upper corner gave the detectives a new clue.

Cael rose to his feet. “It’s dated two days before he was assaulted.”

“This could’ve been the reason why he was attacked in the first place,” Declan said. “Maybe his buddy wasn’t as fortunate as he was in recovering his stash and took it out on him.”

“That would explain why he left a note. He probably feared what would happen if they met face-to-face.”

“Yeah, but even with all of this, it’s still—”

“Circumstantial,” Cael finished the infamous sentence. “All the more reason to track down who this ‘kid’ is.”

After a moment, Declan took a guess, “Could it have been Frasier? He was Hamilton’s nephew.”

“I doubt it, since Hamilton trusted him to be a part of his staged accident and gave him a lift afterward.”

“How can we conclude it was a well-meaning ride? For that matter, who’s to say the accident was truly faked? Maybe Hamilton hadn’t taken care of ‘the kid’ to the extent he wanted to.”

Cael recalled his own doubts about Hamilton’s motive when they found Jemma’s bloody jacket. “If he was responsible for the bad batch of bills, his mistake may have caused Hamilton’s beating and ended his relationship with his best friend. It wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine his uncle wanting to even the scales.”

They’d have to set the possibility aside for the moment and report yet another batch of funny money to the Secret Service. Given the poor appearance of the bills, Agent Nichols didn’t drive out but instructed them to secure them at the precinct, where he’d pick them up Monday. After they followed through on that, the detectives returned home frustrated.

Cael was set to take Autumn out to dinner later, so while he waited for her to get off work, he stopped over to Wes and Minka’s. Wes was busy doing yard work, and since Minka wasn’t in a great mood because of Robin’s behavior, he almost left right away. When she inquired about the case, he decided to relate his aggravation.

She took a moment to process it all once he finished. “Do you really suspect Hamilton caused Jemma to bleed, or could an existing wound have busted open?”

“I can’t say. She broke her arm, and the shards from the windshield cut her face. It’s likely one of her scrapes or stitches could open if they weren’t treating her with proper supplies.”

“Considering how hasty Tad was to leave the hospital, I wouldn’t imagine he’s taking many safety measures,” Minka stated.

Cael agreed with her and stood to head out. When his phone began to vibrate, he backed out of the room but stopped when he read the ID. “It’s the hospital.”

Minka rose from the floor. “No way.”

He listened to the nurse’s report that Jemma had been transported there after she collapsed at a gas station. He assured her he and his partner would be on the way.

Minka lifted her laundry basket after he hung up. “Maybe you’ll finally get some answers. Tell Declan I said hi.”

“He’s kayaking with friends, so I won’t be able to reach him. Would you mind filling in?”

She smiled. “I think Wes could pitch in with the chores.”

****

A day earlier, Minka wouldn’t have believed Cael would do anything to enable her sleuthing, but here he was, driving her to the hospital. He could’ve handled the interview without a partner and then been free to go straight to Autumn’s afterward, so it touched her that he’d included her. It assured her of how much he cared and that he wasn’t harboring a grudge over her insensitivity to his fiancée.

The receptionist gave them Jemma’s room number when Cael stated their business, and they navigated through the hallways. When they entered her room, Minka held her breath, hoping another dead end didn’t await them.

Cael took the initiative. “How are you doing, Mrs. Frasier?”

She regarded him, appearing confused and somewhat defensive. “Better, thank you.”

“That’s good to hear. I’m Detective Avery, and my partner and I’ve been investigating your accident. We didn’t have the chance to get your statement before you dashed off the grid.”

Jemma’s head dropped. “Tad’s the one who made us run, and I almost died because of it. I’ve been bleeding internally, which is why I fainted in the convenience store. It’s stopped, but the doctors can’t fathom how I lived.”

“Is Tad around?” Minka asked, noting his absence.

“No, the jerk apparently bolted when I collapsed. The paramedics didn’t even know I was married.”

“Why did he run like this?” Cael questioned.

“He wouldn’t tell me. He’s changed after he started working a side job for his uncle. He wouldn’t even say what kind of work he did or why he was fired last month. That’s when he really became strange. We were about to move, in fact, when the crash happened.”

“Perry Hamilton is Tad’s uncle, right?”

Jemma nodded. “We were headed to his house the day of the accident.”

Minka detected genuine innocence in her. “Were you aware it was his vehicle that T-boned yours?”

She straightened up in her bed, horror riddling her face. “It was? Is he okay?”

“We were hoping you could tell us that,” Cael countered. “He was pronounced dead at the scene, but we have reason to believe that was a hoax. We found your jacket in a car he was driving. Do you recall that?”

“I might remember hearing his voice, but that’s it. I’ve been in and out of consciousness this whole time.”

“Any recollection of what he said?” Minka’s heart raced inside her chest.

Jemma frowned, until her eyes widened in discovery. “He told Tad he’d ruined everything, and he mentioned some guy named Riss.”

****

On the ride back, Minka and Cael discussed their interview with Jemma. Both agreed they were closer to the truth, but they couldn’t make it out amidst the questions that surrounded it. Though they assumed Tad had to be the “kid” referenced in Hamilton’s note, it wouldn’t do them much good until they learned their whereabouts. Jemma may have been their best witness thus far, but her current condition would keep her account from carrying much weight.

“I find it hard to believe she’d been in the dark about her husband’s work,” Cael said.

“I don’t. Mine made enemies with the mob, and he wouldn’t have told me if they hadn’t tried to kill him.”

“When will you let that go?”

“When you both realize what a trauma it was.” Enjoying their natural banter, she was reminded of another aspect of the interview. “I liked how you didn’t clarify who your partner was when you spoke to Jemma. It took me back to the old days.”

Smiling, Cael peered out the window. “Autumn told me what you said about how it’s been rough to adjust to us not working together. It hasn’t been easy for me, either. Sure, Dec and I get along well, but it isn’t the same. There have been times that something arises, and I expect you to give your unique spin on it from across the desk. When you don’t, I miss it.”

His confession planted tears in her eyes. “Thanks for telling me that.”

“And before I forget—” He plucked out the small microphone from his pocket. “—you don’t need to wiretap me to find out information.”

She chuckled and took it from him. After the moment passed, the two made mere small talk the rest of the way. Cael didn’t stay after he dropped her off, needing to get over to Autumn’s. Minka grabbed the mail before she retreated inside, where Robin and Wes sat on the couch watching television together. Their jovial spirit pained her, as their laughter and easy conversation made her wonder if she was the problem in her relationship with her brother.

Repressing her sorrow, she greeted them and sorted the mail on the dinner table. Wes responded as usual, but Robin barely grunted. His chuckles and side remarks ceased, and during the next commercial break, he rose to head back to the garage. His sister followed him and stopped the door he attempted to close in front of her.

“You’d better not be angry with me for hanging out with Wes. I just figured if you were spending the day with his brother, he might as well spend it with yours.”

He continued down the stairs, and Minka remembered his words that morning about Cael being her real brother. They’d bothered her ever since, partly because she recognized there was some truth to them. She had grown to view Cael as more of a brother than she did him, unable to picture letting a week go by without talking to him. With Robin, years had passed without them speaking, and she’d hardly given it a second thought.

She tailed him until he stopped in his place.

“I always wanted to be close to you like I am with Cael. When we were kids, I begged you every day to play or watch a movie with me, but you wouldn’t. My whole life, I’ve questioned what I did to repulse you like that. Was it my deafness? Was it because of your kidnapping? Please, tell me now. I can take it.”

Robin kept silent, as if trying to decide whether or not the open opportunity to speak was a ruse. When she stayed and waited for a reply, he conceded. “I don’t know what it was…and I’m not just saying that. I guess your deafness played a part in it, since our abilities differed so much. Until your implant was put in, we had to have the closed captioning on the television, and you had to put your hands on the speakers when we listened to music. Back then, all of that bothered me, and maybe I was a little afraid I could lose my hearing, too, since it happened to you.”

His sentiments pierced her soul, but she couldn’t fault him for them. Still, her self-condemning heart chimed in, “Then, I ended up endangering you during one of the few activities we could enjoy together.”

“I’ve never blamed you for that,” he responded without hesitation. “Mom, Dad, and countless therapists have asked me if I did, and I’ve told every one of them no. That idiot took other kids, and none of their siblings were deaf. He would’ve found another way to snatch me if he wanted to.”

She’d never been willing to accept such reasoning herself. “That was very mature of you to comprehend it like that.”

He said nothing more as he sat down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. “Besides, I always trusted that you would’ve protected me if you’d been able. That’s why I wish you could’ve trusted me about Hamilton’s assault.”

Minka pivoted away with tears streaming down her face. “So do I.”

****

Once again, a lead—though small—was eclipsed by family drama. After her confrontation with Robin, Minka didn’t feel motivated to do much of anything, least of all cook dinner. Seeming to sense that, Wes suggested they order pizza, which she hardly touched. Her brother, on the other hand, showed no lack of appetite, scarfing down five slices.

Besides their brief exchange when he grabbed his dinner, the siblings didn’t interact. For her part, Minka continued to struggle with her own insecurities. Though she did her best to shrug off most of her brother’s disparaging comments, his disappointment in her lack of trust had stung. His voice was laced with pain, not mere vindictiveness, and his sentiment was one she’d never considered. For the majority of her life, she’d assumed he blamed her for the worst trauma he’d experienced. She’d always begrudged herself, and he had every reason to, as well. The discovery that he didn’t should have relieved her of that burden, but instead, it added to her regret. She couldn’t help but wonder if their relationship would’ve been better had they faced those feelings decades earlier.

Their young age hadn’t allowed them to, however, so they had to do their best to piece together their relationship now. She couldn’t rush it, as they both needed a day or two to let the tensions cool, so she refrained from dwelling on the matter. Instead, she told Wes about the trip to the hospital. As she spoke about Jemma’s claim to be unaware of Tad’s schemes with Hamilton, she started to mull over the other two wives involved and whether or not they, too, were so fooled.

She retraced her prior research in her mind. Rissdale’s exploits allegedly began six years ago, before the Hamiltons split up. If the two were in on it together from the get-go, Loraine might be privy to more than she’d want to divulge. She was sure Rissdale’s ex-wife would’ve been interviewed about her insight into his crimes, but Cael and Declan hadn’t, to her knowledge, questioned Loraine since they’d cleared her of assaulting Hamilton. Could she be their untapped source?

On a whim, Minka searched her name again, and her mention in Hamilton’s obituary topped the results. Given how firmly she’d denied being related to him over the phone, it struck Minka as odd that she’d accept being associated with him now. Could his supposed death have revived her love for him…or perhaps for his legitimate money?

She read through it in its entirety and noted a few discrepancies from his true story. His actual last name, for instance, never appeared, even when his father and sister were listed among those who preceded him in death. It didn’t contain Tad’s, either, but she realized nieces and nephews didn’t get recognition in most obits. Still, his ex-wife did…

The final paragraph detailed the funeral arrangements, and uninterested, she almost closed the window, but she stopped herself at the last second. The time since his “death” had dragged on to make it seem like months had elapsed, but the visitation and service, both set for the next day, reminded her it hadn’t even been a week. With so much unresolved, the opportunity called out to her. She jotted down the address and times with a smile, never more eager to pay her respects to someone.

****

Wes observed Minka as she touched up her makeup before she left for the funeral home. “What? No black veil?”

“Nah. I didn’t wear one to your fake memorial, either.”

“You haven’t told me one thing about that day that’s complimented me.”

She snapped shut her eyeshadow case. “Sorry I didn’t think to go around and record a montage of heartfelt messages to send to you. I was a little devastated and, oh yeah, pregnant.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, right as Robin entered the living room. He glanced at her with uncertain eyes, and she suspected hers mirrored them, lacking confidence, too.

“What can I have for lunch?” Robin asked.

“There’s plenty of lunch meat in the fridge, and I just bought a new loaf of bread,” she informed for both the guys’ benefit.

He let out his typical mumble, but to her surprise, he noticed her outfit. “Why are you dressed up?”

She wanted to tell him the truth and show him she hadn’t stopped trying to prove his innocence. Again, though, she couldn’t predict if her scheme would unlock anything. “I have to go to an engagement.”

“With Cael, I bet.”

“No, I’m solo today.”

His face brightened a little, but he said nothing as he stepped back into the kitchen. Wes winked at her, and she kissed him, grabbing her purse on her way out the door.

The silence in her car triggered doubts about her plan, like it had when she drove to Robin’s apartment. She started to wonder if anybody like Maxwell or his colleagues would recognize her, or even if Loraine would peg her voice from the call she’d made. Once she arrived and struggled to secure an empty parking spot, she reasoned no one would pay her special regard.

Strolling inside, she didn’t recognize anyone from her visit to Stags or her research. It allayed her worries further, but she also questioned what she could glean from a room of absolute strangers. She cautioned herself against giving up, remembering how much detective work starts without solid evidence.

In an attempt to maintain her low profile, she didn’t sign the guest book but veered into the line of mourners who’d already done so. A woman she assumed to be Hamilton’s mom stood at the front of it, beside an urn of ashes which probably belonged to a John Doe. With at least ten people in front of her, Minka wouldn’t make it up any time soon, but she’d already resolved not to use her real name. After all, the woman wanted to sue Robin and may have learned of their relation from her son.

Her anxiety crept back in the farther the line advanced, so she scanned her surroundings to combat it. The spacious home featured several adjoining rooms to accommodate more guests, but even as busy as it was, just a few people occupied them. One chamber in particular caught her eye, given it held two women viewing the reel of photos that played on a television. Her manners prompted her to avert her eyes out of respect, but her intuition forced her to do a double take, as she recognized one of them.

Loraine Hamilton.

After she confirmed her notion correct, she glanced down, contemplating her strategy. If she left the line and marched right in to join them, she’d draw attention to herself and possibly make them conclude their conversation. With how long the grieving mother was talking to each of her visitors, though, she could be stuck waiting for another twenty minutes. The ladies could wander off or leave by then.

The sight of Hamilton in the pictures reminded her of their one and only meeting, and she groaned inside over his blatant stereotyping. Seconds later, the unpleasant memory inspired her escape plan.

She retrieved her phone and jacked the volume up high. Then, she set the alarm to ring in a minute, allowing her to stash it away before it sounded. When it did, she pretended not to notice it. No one said anything at first, and she struggled to keep a straight face as people began to fidget and peek around their shoulders. At last, the woman behind her tapped her on the shoulder. “Miss, your phone is ringing.”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry,” she replied in a loud voice and rummaged through her purse in haste. “It’s my babysitter. I have to take this.”

“Perhaps you’d step outside; I’ll save your spot.”

Keeping up her act, Minka made like she didn’t hear her offer and greeted the fake sitter, as she left the line. She strayed off in the direction of her desired place, eliciting a derogatory comment from the lady about the tactless younger generation. She carried on with the conversation about her son, Cael, and his screen time limit, closing in on her marks. Loraine’s attention shifted to her momentarily when she crossed the threshold into the room, so she didn’t go in farther.

To give herself a reason to quiet down, she began asking the sitter questions. “What games has he been playing?”

While she listened to the nonexistent response, Minka observed Loraine out of her peripheral. She was stroking her companion’s back. “We did all we could.”

The woman’s French-Canadian accent caused Minka to infer she was Rissdale’s former wife. “No, we didn’t. We walked away, and worse yet, we took their dirty bribes. If we’d stood up to them and done the right thing, maybe we’d still be married, and Perry would be alive.”

“You know how stubborn they both were when we tried to confront them, Beth. Besides, we’ve helped a lot of people with the money they insisted on giving.”

Awestruck by her own fortune, Minka had to remind herself to say something into the phone to retain her cover and encourage them to continue their confessional. “And has he taken a break since lunch?”

“I just wish Steadman hadn’t come across those stupid plates. I was so foolish to suggest we make up the American ones to send you guys,” Beth told Loraine.

“You meant it as a joke. They took it too far.”

A silence fell between them, during which Minka formulated another inquiry about her son. “Did he eat all his carrots?”

Despite the yards between them, she could make out a tear trickling down Beth’s cheek. “Steadman called me from prison after he was arrested. He blamed Perry for everything. You don’t suspect he somehow…”

Loraine embraced her. “I think they both met the fate they deserved.”