Brutality Page 7

  Tasha was running at a clip, but offered her hand across her body to shake.

  “You can call me Tasha.” She glanced at Fina. “Fire up your treadmill. We can do two things at once.”

  Goddamnit. One of the few days Fina decides to work out, and her witness insists on a treadmill-based interview. Fina punched the keys, and the belt rolled to life. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”

  “Sorry we have to do it here. My schedule is a nightmare, but obviously I want to help Liz any way I can,” Tasha said.

  “Have you spoken to Bobbi or Jamie recently?” Fina upped her speed. She might not be a star athlete, but she had her pride.

  “I called Bobbi this morning, but there’s no change.”

  “That’s what Kelly Wegner said. I met with her this morning.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “Hanging in there,” Fina said. “Cleaning a lot.”

  Tasha made a noise that was somewhere between a chuckle and a snort. “She’s always been that way. You should have seen her dorm room in college. Her CDs were alphabetized, and her underwear drawer looked like a display at Victoria’s Secret.”

  “Hmm. I’m definitely missing that gene,” Fina admitted.

  “Well, Kelly’s got it in spades.”

  Fina waited a minute before launching into her line of questioning. “Do you have any idea who might have hurt Liz?”

  “I’ve been racking my brain, but I’m coming up empty,” Tasha said. “Liz didn’t really have enemies.”

  “Were there people she didn’t get along with?”

  “Enough to kill her? I would say no, but obviously I’d be wrong.”

  Fina was starting to feel warm, moisture rising from her pores. “What’s her relationship with Jamie like?”

  Tasha shrugged. “It’s fine.”

  “That’s pretty lukewarm.”

  “Well, they’ve never struck me as the most passionate couple, and they both work long hours.”

  “So even in the beginning they didn’t seem head over heels?”

  “I’m not saying they don’t love each other, just that neither is especially demonstrative, and the music stuff always created tension.” Tasha increased the incline of her treadmill. Show-off.

  “Oh right, he was in a band.”

  “Technically, he still is, but it got to the point that he had to choose. He realized he wasn’t going to be a rock star, and you can’t raise a family on an amateur musician’s salary, not to mention the lack of health insurance and paid vacation time.”

  “Was that a bitter pill to swallow?” Fina was feeling the strain of running and talking at the same time. Tasha moved effortlessly next to her.

  “Definitely. I’m not sure it’s been completely digested yet.”

  “Does he blame Liz?” Fina asked.

  Tasha eyed her. “Well, she’s the messenger, right? It’s easy to blame her for his dashed dreams, but I’m not suggesting he would hurt her. Jamie is a fairly passive guy. I’ve rarely seen him get worked up about stuff.”

  “What did you think about her potential lawsuit against NEU?” Fina asked.

  Tasha smirked. “I thought she needed to get herself a real lawyer.”

  “Like you?” Fina smiled.

  “I’m a commercial litigator. I don’t do personal injury,” Tasha said.

  “You don’t think Thatcher Kinney is up for the big leagues?”

  “Have you met him?”

  “Yes. Why did Liz hire him in the first place?” Fina asked.

  “He knew her mom, and they had friends in common. I think she was worried about hurting his feelings or causing some brouhaha in town.”

  “You can’t worry about hurt feelings when it comes to legal representation.”

  “You should know, Fina Ludlow,” Tasha said, emphasizing Ludlow.

  Fina ignored her. “What did you think about the lawsuit itself?”

  “Liz is not litigious by nature, but she was sick of getting the runaround from NEU. She felt like they weren’t leaving her any choice.”

  “Does the case have legal merit, in your opinion?”

  “Unfortunately, there wasn’t any concussion protocol when we were playing. People didn’t know better, and I don’t think you can hold someone responsible for not knowing they should know something.”

  Fina grabbed the water bottle from the holder and took a swig. She needed the hydration, but it also bought her a moment to catch her breath. “Had you noticed a difference in Liz, cognitively?” she asked Tasha.

  “Some small things, but we don’t see each other as often as we’d like. Mostly, she recounted things to me,” Tasha said, staring at her reflection in the mirror. “You just never think that something like this is going to happen.”

  Fina wasn’t sure if she was referring to the MCI or the attack. “I know. It’s awful.” They were silent for a minute. “What about at work?” Fina asked. “Any problems there?”

  “I think there was some issue with her boss recently, but I don’t know the specifics. It wasn’t a personal issue, though, not a reason for someone to attack her.”

  Sadly, physical attacks sometimes were related to workplace issues, but those generally occurred at work. It would have taken effort to track Liz down at her home.

  “What’s her boss’s name?”

  “Vikram . . . I can’t remember his last name.” Tasha adjusted the incline of her treadmill again.

  Fina’s legs were aching, and she could feel a blister developing on her right heel. “I showed Kelly some old NEU newspapers this morning, and she pointed out two men that showed up in a lot of pictures: Kevin Lafferty and Gus Sibley.”

  Tasha maintained her stride, but Fina saw her fingertips briefly touch the railing of the treadmill. She didn’t say anything.

  “They were at most of the games?” Fina prompted.

  “Dr. Sibley was since he was our team doctor, and Kevin was always hanging around.”

  “Hanging around sounds kind of bad.”

  “I don’t mean it to,” Tasha said. “He was just there a lot.”

  “Have you had any contact with either of them since your playing days?” Fina asked.

  “Intermittently. We bump into each other at NEU fund-raisers, that sort of thing.”

  “Do you know how I could reach them?”

  “I’m not sure what the point would be. Do you really think Liz’s attack has something to do with NEU?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Fina said. “Speaking with them is due diligence; I’m sure you can appreciate that.”

  Tasha nodded. “Gus is still affiliated with NEU, and he has a private practice in Chestnut Hill, and Kevin’s the president of the booster club.”

  “Do you know where he works?” Fina asked.

  “Barnes Kaufcan, the pharmaceutical company.”

  “Did you ever get the sense that Dr. Sibley had any misgivings about concussions when you and Liz were playing soccer? Was he pressured to play injured players?” Fina blotted her face with the towel. A dull pain radiated up her shins. She hoped to God this wasn’t a distance training day for Tasha.

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “What was your experience with injuries?” Fina asked.

  Tasha grabbed her water and chugged it. She dropped the bottle back into the cup holder before answering. “We got hurt. We were competing at a high level. What the staff said or didn’t say didn’t matter. I was competitive, and I made the choice to play hard,” Tasha said, staring straight ahead.

  Before Fina could respond, an older black man wandered over and planted himself in front of Tasha’s treadmill. “We need to reschedule the exploratory meeting,” he said to her without any preamble.

  Tasha glared at him. “Reed, this is Fin
a Ludlow. She’s a private investigator.”

  The man looked spooked for an instant, then recovered and exchanged hellos with Fina.

  “Call my office to reschedule, won’t you?” Tasha said tersely.

  “Of course. I’ll be in touch.” He beat a hasty retreat.

  Fina didn’t say anything for a moment, nor did Tasha.

  “Mayor or city council?” Fina asked.

  “I’m sorry?” Tasha peered at her.

  “People convene exploratory committees when they’re thinking of running for office. So which office do you have in mind?”

  Tasha decreased her speed and slowed to a walk. She grabbed the towel from the handrail and mopped her sweaty brow. Her makeup still looked untouched.

  “No comment.”

  “You’d make an excellent candidate,” Fina said. She hopped onto the sides of the moving belt before pressing the stop button.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You can tell me. I’ll be discreet.”

  Tasha rolled her eyes and pulled one foot toward her butt to stretch her quadriceps muscle. “Discretion is not the first thing that comes to mind when I hear the name Ludlow.” She stretched the other leg before stepping off the treadmill.

  Fina followed her to the water cooler. “Is there anyone else you think I should talk to about Liz?” she asked.

  “No, but I’ll let you know if I think of anyone.” Tasha took a long gulp from her refilled water bottle. “I’ve got to go, but you’re welcome to stay and work out some more.”

  Fina pretended to seriously consider the suggestion. “I think I’m good.”

  Tasha smiled. “Well, in that case, they have amazing products in the locker room, plus a Jacuzzi and a sauna. Take your time in there.”

  “That sounds infinitely more appealing. Thanks.”

  “If you hear anything about Liz, give me a call,” Tasha said before disappearing into the locker room.

  “Of course.”

  Fina refilled her bottle before wandering into the locker room, where she stayed in the Jacuzzi until her fingers got pruney.

  She wasn’t quite sure what she’d gleaned from the conversation other than an elevated heart rate and sore hamstrings.

  6.

  Fina retreated home—given the arctic temperatures and her muscle fatigue, a nap seemed like the right course of action, but she staved off the urge. She called Scotty’s assistant, Michelle, to get an update on the Disney ticket situation. Fina joked about trading favors, but she was a big believer in quid pro quo. Sometimes people were altruistic and selfless, but more often they were looking to further their own interests or the interests of the people they cared about. Even so, most people clung tightly to the idea that relationships were equal and neither party should have the upper hand. No one wanted to feel like they were getting the short end of the stick. That was what drove lawsuits, after all: making someone “whole” after they’d been wronged. Cristian was her friend, and she liked making him and Matteo happy, but she also knew it was good for business.

  Fina grabbed a diet soda and plopped down on the couch before dialing Cristian.

  “Menendez.”

  “Hey. How’s it going?”

  “Fine. How are you?” It was quiet in the background, which suggested he wasn’t at the station.

  “I’m good.” She sipped her drink.

  There was a pregnant pause.

  “Good news: There’s a Disney on Ice show coming up,” Fina said. “It’s called ‘Let’s Celebrate!’ It’s—and I quote—a ‘magical medley of holidays, celebrations, and festivities from around the globe,’ including a luau, Mardi Gras, and Valentine’s Day. It sounds absolutely horrific.”

  “Which means Teo will love it. Let me check the custody schedule and I’ll give you some possible dates.”

  “Is there any way we could meet up today?”

  “What do you want?” he asked suspiciously.

  “I want to share my progress on the Liz Barone case with you.”

  Cristian laughed. “Of course you do. I’m pretty busy working on that case myself, so why don’t you just tell me over the phone?”

  “It’s so much more fun to give you updates in person,” Fina said. It was true: Flirting with Cristian face-to-face was way more satisfying than on the phone.

  “I’ll be at the Jim Roche ice rink in West Roxbury at five P.M. I’ll have ten minutes or so.”

  “Why are you going to an ice rink when it’s ten degrees outside?”

  “Why do you think, Sherlock?”

  Cristian hung up, and Fina cursed her miscalculation.

  Even Cristian wasn’t worth freezing her ass off.

  —

  It was about twenty-five degrees in the rink, and loud. The place was crawling with kids, most of them lumbering under the weight of hockey pads and helmets. Fina arrived just as the Zamboni emerged to smooth the shaved and pitted surface into a glassy, wet layer.

  A couple of the benches in the locker room area were occupied by men and women wearing pads and police department hockey shirts. Fina spotted Cristian and caught his eye. People on the force knew they were friends, but she didn’t want to put him on the spot in front of his colleagues. Some cops had nothing but disdain for PIs, and it was a relationship best kept on the down low.

  Cristian threaded his way over to her, and they found a spot on a bench. He dropped his bag onto the rubber floor and pulled off his boots.

  “Forget the cold, why are you playing hockey when you’re on a case?” Fina asked.

  “It’s part of the community outreach thing. It’s only an hour, and Pitney catches hell if we don’t put in the time. It’s also a good way to blow off steam.”

  Fina eyed the competition. “You’re blowing off steam playing against a ragtag group of neighborhood kids?”

  “I meant the other cops.” Cristian forced his foot into a skate and tugged on the laces. “The teams are mixed.”

  “Well, you’re a good man and a role model. I still don’t understand the appeal of a sport where you freeze your ass off.”

  “Never mind that. I only have until the ice is clean.”

  “All righty. Were there any signs of forced entry at Liz Barone’s house?”

  Cristian paused his lacing efforts. “Hold on. I thought you were going to update me.”

  “I am,” Fina said, “but I thought you could start.”

  He shook his head, winding the laces around the small hooks at his ankle. “No, there were no signs of forced entry.”

  “So either the door was unlocked, the perpetrator had a key, or Liz let the person in.”

  “Jamie says that they always lock the door.”

  “That rules out one option then. Did Jamie find her?”

  “Yes. Luckily, the kids were at a neighbor’s house so they were spared.”

  “Who has a copy of their house key?” Fina asked.

  “When’s the part where you give me information?” Cristian asked, moving on to the other skate.

  “So impatient. If you insist, I’ve spoken with Bobbi Barone, Jamie, Kelly Wegner, Tasha Beemis-Jones, and the attorney, Thatcher Kinney.”

  “And?”

  “And the attorney is clearly not the man for the job, but it’s not clear yet if the lawsuit had anything to do with the attack,” Fina said.

  “That’s great, but you’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”

  “But I will, eventually. Maybe not today, but someday.” The Zamboni was turning the corner, making its final pass. “You got any alibis?” Fina asked.

  “Nothing airtight. We need a few more suspects in the meantime.” Cristian tucked his shoes under the bench and zipped up his bag. He stood and bounced lightly on the skates. “What’s next on your agenda?”

  “Gus Sibley and Kevi
n Lafferty.”

  Cristian blinked at Kevin’s name.

  “Oh, so maybe you don’t know everything,” Fina said.

  “Enlighten me.”

  “He’s a booster for NEU athletics, and he spent a lot of time hanging around the women’s soccer team back in the day.”

  “Does he have a current relationship with Liz?”

  “That’s not clear. Speaking of relationships, how’s Cindy?”

  “She’s good.”

  “Just good?”

  “Just good.” He pulled on his oversized gloves.

  “Well, I’m glad we’re going to the Disney thing. I feel like I haven’t seen you much recently, not since your dating life took off.”

  Cristian frowned at her. “I don’t have that much time to begin with, you know that. It’s work and Matteo, mostly.”

  “I understand,” Fina assured him. “I’m not complaining. I just miss hanging out.”

  “Me too.”

  Silence hung in the air between them.

  “At least we’re working together again,” Fina offered, grinning.

  “We do have that,” Cristian said.

  “You act like you don’t approve of my methods, but secretly you think I’m a stellar investigator.”

  “Whatever you need to tell yourself,” he said. “See ya.”

  He waddled over to the edge of the rink and stepped onto the ice. Fina hightailed it to her car and sat for a moment letting the hot air blow over her, reassessing her earlier conclusion: Even a little bit of Cristian was worth freezing her ass off.

  —

  Fina decided to make a stop before heading home and pointed her car toward Newton. The MetroWest suburb was one of the wealthiest in the region, but it also had its share of ranch houses and Cape Cods. Fifty-six Wellspring Street was one of those ranch houses, with a tidy yard and a flagpole by the door that always held a season-appropriate flag. Fina pulled over in front of the house and swore at the sight that greeted her.

  Once she was out of her car, she hollered at the man in the driveway. “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” Frank Gillis responded.

  “It looks like you’re trying to have a heart attack!” Fina went over and took the shovel out of his hand. “First of all, you’re not supposed to be shoveling. Second of all, I don’t even understand what you’re shoveling. This is all going to melt in a day or two.”