Y is for Yesterday (Kinsey Millhone #25)

“I am if you are.”

I finished the glass of wine and waited while she gathered her sweater and bag.

“You running a tab?” I asked, indicating her drink.

“It’s paid for.”

We walked the half block to my place following the beam from my flashlight. Once we reached Henry’s drive, I watched while she covered the short distance to Moza’s. She climbed the porch stairs and after she let herself in, she blinked the outside light twice to let me know she was okay. In the meantime, I was attuned to every shadow and the rattle of leaves in the wind. I moved through the squeaky gate and rounded the corner to my front door. There was no sign of Lucky or Pearl, so I assumed they were safely zipped into her tent. I felt more secure knowing the two were out there like human watch dogs.

I let myself in and locked the door behind me. Before I went up the spiral stairs to the loft, I turned on the outside lights. I hoped the glare wouldn’t penetrate the tent and keep the occupants awake, but if so, they’d have to endure. It seemed like a smart move to keep the premises lit up. For the second time in an hour, I checked the locks on all my windows and doors. I still had the door handle alarm unit Robert Dietz had supplied years before when I enjoyed the dubious distinction of being one of five names on Tyrone Patty’s hit list. I put the portable alarm on the knob, where it would issue an ear-splitting blare if the door was tampered with. I also did a quick walkabout, making sure Ned Lowe hadn’t crept in, flattened himself like a spider, and slithered under my sofa bed. I didn’t think four inches was sufficient to conceal him, but I looked anyway.

Once in bed with the light out, I thought about the situation. Ned was the kind of guy who enjoyed the hunt. He’d want to make sure I felt spooked because my discomfort would contribute to his happiness. I was not one of those defiant female types determined not to let a man threaten my peace of mind. What peace of mind? Even the idea of seeing him half a block away was sufficient to keep me awake. To distract myself, I thought back to the encounter with Fritz McCabe. Something in the conversation nagged at me, but I couldn’t think what it was. Next thing I knew, I was dead to the world and then my alarm clock buzzed.

? ? ?

I took an alternate route to work. Ned Lowe knew where my office was and he had my home address, but I didn’t like the notion of his tailing me. As I pulled into the office driveway, I took a few minutes for a visual survey before I got out of the car, locked it behind me, and crossed the short distance to my door. When I entered the alarm code, the light on the system moved from red to green, which I took as evidence the premises hadn’t been breached. I kept the front and back doors locked and the perimeter armed. If Ned Lowe jimmied the lock, hoping to catch me by surprise, I’d have a few seconds of warning.

By the time I sat down at my desk, I realized the question my subconscious had been flirting with, trying to flag my attention. I peeled off my windbreaker, picked up the phone, and put a call through to Lauren McCabe, who picked up after two rings.

“Hey, Lauren. This is Kinsey. You have a minute?”

“Sure. Hollis just left for work and Fritz is sleeping in. What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been thinking about a couple of things that came up in conversation last night.”

“Such as what?”

“I’m wondering why you haven’t heard from the extortionist. You’d think he’d have followed up by now. He said he’d leave a message with instructions.”

“I’ve been curious about that myself. Every time the phone rings, I’m prepared for the worst. The same when the mail arrives. I thought maybe he was giving us time to put the cash together.”

“Unlikely, but that would be considerate.”

“What’s your take on it?”

“I think you’re dealing with a rank amateur. I’m not even sure this guy has a plan. The longer he waits to act, the more time he’s giving you to notify the police or the FBI.”

“On the other hand, this is the riskiest moment of any blackmail scheme, isn’t it? Once we’re told where to drop the money, he has to play his hand. He must be aware we could contact law enforcement and have them lying in wait.”

“True, but the whole setup seems odd to me. I mean, so far there’s no guarantee there aren’t a dozen copies out there. Surely he doesn’t expect you to pay until he’s addressed that point.”

“I can’t answer that one. Hollis assumes the terms will be laid out when he gives us instructions about the twenty-five grand.”

“Which brings up another point. A couple of times Fritz said twenty-five thousand was nothing to you. I’m not asking about your finances, but I gather you’re well-to-do.”

“You could say that, I suppose. We’re not wealthy, but we’re comfortable. More than comfortable,” she amended.

“And anyone who knows you is aware of it, yes?”

“No doubt. We’re not ostentatious, but we make no secret of the fact that we live well.”

“So why didn’t the extortionist ask for a hundred thousand dollars or even half a million? You could put that much together, too, couldn’t you?”

“Oh, lord. Please don’t wish that on us.”

“Far from it. I’m wondering about his frame of reference. Maybe to him, twenty-five grand is big.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning there was a kidnapping case here in town some years ago. I got involved long after the fact, but what struck me was that the ransom demand was low. Turned out later the kidnappers were two teenaged boys who thought fifteen thousand dollars was a lot of money,” I said. “The other possibility is that your extortionist has a specific goal in mind and twenty-five is all he needs.”

“To do what with?”

“This might be a bid for independence.”

There was a moment of dead silence. “You’re not suggesting Fritz is behind this.”

“It would certainly explain why he’s so adamant in his urging you to pay.”

“He wouldn’t do that to us. The notion’s ludicrous.”

“You might not like the idea, but it’s not ludicrous,” I said. “The note and the tape didn’t arrive until he got home.”

“Coincidence.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. I’ve been assuming his release is what triggered the demand. Isn’t that your take on it as well?”

“That doesn’t mean the demand came from him.”

“What if he’s had the tape in his possession since he went off to CYA?”

“That couldn’t be the case. He was livid when he realized the tape was gone. I’m sure he wasn’t faking his dismay. Besides which, we sold the house and moved while he was gone, packing up everything he owned. If he’d had the tape, we’d have found it.”

“Unless he left it with a friend. He might have an accomplice who’s helping coordinate the deal.”

“In that case, why accuse Sloan of stealing it?”

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