Into The Heat (Sandy Reid Mystery Series Book 6) Read online

  Into the Heat

  A Sandy Reid Mystery

  Rod Hoisington

  Copyright 2015 Rod Hoisington

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the rights of this author. J02O24Y15f

  Cover design by Mark Hoisington

  markhoisington.com

  Editorial Assistance:

  Karen L. Hoisington

  For Vanna

  The Sandy Reid Mystery Series

  by Rod Hoisington

  One Deadly Sister

  The Price of Candy

  Such Wicked Friends

  Chasing Suspect Three

  Alive After Friday

  Into the Heat

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  About the Author

  The Sandy Reid Mystery Series

  Chapter One

  For one heat, all know, doth drive out another, One passion doth expel another still.

  George Chapman

  Sandy Reid decided at the start she didn’t care for the man. Pleasant enough appearance, even handsome in a conceited, aloof sort of way. Certainly knew how to wear expensive clothes, and tack on the prescribed trimmings such as his Patek Philippe watch, and a silk necktie, which cost more than her monthly utility bill for the law office.

  She reached across her desk to shake hands and gestured for him to settle in the oversized, brown leather chair angled in front of her desk. He adjusted his tie and introduced himself as Lester Bardner. The slight twitching at the side of his upper lip confirmed his nervousness. After the nice-to-meet-you routine was out of the way, she started off with, “When you called my office, you said I might help with some legal advice.”

  “Actually, what I said was I had a problem.”

  She closed her eyes for a second and said, “Okay.”

  “Perhaps my problem isn’t a legal one, and I merely need your advice.”

  “Whatever, you’re here,” she sighed quietly. “Let’s start over. Just who are you?”

  He leaned forward and with a trace of sadness, said softly, “I’m not too good, Miss Reid, thank you for inquiring. And how are you?”

  She screwed up her face slightly.

  He drew back. “I’m sorry, did you ask how am I or who am I?”

  “Let me rephrase the question. Why are you here?” She couldn’t resist sneaking a look at her watch. Her last appointment. Fortunately, she hadn’t started her day facing this guy.

  “I’m being threatened by this woman.”

  “Threatened legally rather than physically, I assume. I’m not the police.”

  “Yes, I know who you are. I was at that luncheon last week for the Park Beach Family Homeless Center and was impressed with the talk you gave appealing for money. Obviously you’re concerned for people abused or unfortunate, and I thought you’d be the one to advise me.”

  “Well, thanks for your support. Now about the woman—.”

  “I didn’t say we supported. My wife takes care of all that. I’d have to check with her.”

  “Please do check with her or remind her. The Homeless Center needs all the funding it can get.”

  She waited for him to continue. She now had no expectation that she was wrong in her earlier snap judgment that the man would be a royal pain. Of course, people do walk around with life-sized problems, people do get bad breaks, and since there was a chance he was suffering—she’d cut him some slack and go on. “Your problem?”

  He squirmed slightly and cleared his throat. “Well, I’m being threatened by this woman. To be perfectly honest, I was drawn to her from the very beginning. The woman is really something. You should see her, a walking goddess.”

  “And beautiful women threaten you?” She couldn’t resist making the crack, thinking it might lighten the situation. It didn’t.

  “In fact, they do threaten me, but you know I didn’t mean it that way. Fortunately, you don’t threaten me.” Then catching himself said, “Oh, I don’t mean you’re unattractive. You’re attractive enough to threaten me, but you don’t… well, in fact you do. And she certainly does. I’m telling you she stops traffic.”

  “And I need a red light.” He didn’t smile, so she decided to give up on the humorous approach. “Okay, you met this nice-looking woman. Socially, I assume not business. Go on.”

  “Yes, socially. Right off, she asked if I was married.”

  “Wait, wait. You left out something. Were you trying to pick her up?”

  “You might say that. She was pretty and I was sort of looking. Anyway, she asked if I was married, just as though it was some big deal concern of hers.”

  “I got that part. And then at some point she threatened you? Let’s stop right here, Mr. Bardner. You may have the wrong office. You’re getting into domestic affairs. We’re criminal defense lawyers. I’m sure you understand what criminal means.”

  “That’s why I want you. I don’t bother with legalities.”

  “How about realities, you ever bother with them?”

  “Well, this woman is really threatening me. She’ll destroy my life. Isn’t that a crime?”

  “Could be. What’s the nature of the threat? Possibly at this point, you should be speaking to the police.” Or better yet a shrink, she suspected.

  “Well, I’m coming to all that. I tell you, it was so perfect at first. Sparkle is more than ten years younger. Can you imagine a young, attractive woman such as her sleeping with me?”

  She couldn’t imagine his own wife sleeping with him. And what was this locker-room talk about how well he was making out, as if she were his drinking buddy? “Are you really in here telling me about a woman you picked up?” She glanced again at her watch.

  “Now you understand.”

  “Setting aside for the moment why anyone would name a helpless, infant girl Sparkle, tell me, is she a stripper?”

  “Excuse me? Are you suggesting that a man such as I would take up with a stripper?” He sulked for a moment, then said, “To tell the truth, I don’t know what she does, but I don’t think she’s a stripper. She liked my looks, she said. That’s always nice, isn’t it?”

  Sandy smiled politely. “Where did you meet t
his walking goddess—some night club?”

  “In a wine shop. She appeared frustrated taking bottles off the shelf, reading labels and putting them back. I was attempting to find the courage to speak to her when she noticed me and smiled. She spoke first and helplessly confessed she didn’t know a Beaujolais from a Burgundy. Isn't that just a scream? She didn’t know that Beaujolais is in fact a Burgundy.”

  “Which planet is the woman from anyway?” He missed her sarcasm and nodded approval. Sandy wondered what was coming next.

  “She stood enthralled as I gave her my short lecture on French reds. She was fascinated to learn that the wine from the even-numbered years is superior to the odd-numbered years. I picked out one of my favorites. She was stunned at the price, said her car payment wasn’t that high. I told her I wanted to buy it for her. She objected and yada, yada, yada. As we were walking out, she seemed appreciative, so I suggested we have a drink somewhere.”

  “How very cool of you. Can we jump to the actual threat?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Try to make it simple for me.”

  “Well, she stops right there on the sidewalk and asks again if I’m married. I couldn’t tell this beautiful woman the truth, now could I? I mean, why would I admit it at that point? I could always explain later after she got to know the true me. We had a couple of drinks, and she gave me her number. When I called her for a real date, she warned me again that she wasn’t interested in being involved with a married man.”

  “So, you lied to her a second time. When does this get complicated? Okay, eventually she found out you were married. Is that about it? It’s a domestic or divorce situation, and you’re in the wrong office.”

  He ignored her, and continued, “Sparkle went along with my denial for a while, but eventually became suspicious and confronted me. I was trapped, so I stretched things a little. I told her my marriage was breaking up. So I was the same as unmarried. What other choice did I actually have?”

  “Being honest with her comes to mind.”

  “She said, same as unmarried wasn’t good enough. She became all upset, can you believe it? Says she never intended to be the ‘other woman’. Now she’s threatening to tell my wife, so I have to win back her affections.”

  “So the threat we’re talking about is telling your wife? She’ll tell your wife unless you do, what? What does she want?”

  “Sparkle wants me to stop calling her.”

  “In other words, you were able to pick up a young woman by lying to her about not being married. When she finds out, she tells you to stop calling her or else she’ll tell your wife that you are bothering her. Is that about it?”

  “You see why I’m frightened?”

  “What’s frightening is you truly think you make sense.”

  “Are you saying my thinking is senseless?”

  “Just a wild guess.”

  “There you go again, I don’t deserve your ridicule. You don't even know me. You don’t know how I am.”

  He was quite correct, she didn’t know him. Even so, she didn’t need any more evidence to judge him. “You’re not here for a consultation, you’re here to be consoled.” He wouldn’t appreciate the advice she’d like to give him. “When did you file for divorce?”

  He sputtered, “Well, to tell the truth, I haven’t filed. Don’t even have an attorney. I don’t dare get a divorce.”

  “Because your wife will take you to the cleaners?”

  “I have no money to take. Of course, I have the usual trust funds coming in periodically on my behalf, however the meaningful bank accounts are all hers.” He slowly shook his head. “She’s a big deal real estate broker. So after the divorce, I’d be left with nothing.”

  “You mean you’re in danger of ending up with only what you had before you married her. And you’re surprised at that? Hey, if she wants a divorce and has the money, then she’ll get a divorce and keep her money.”

  “But I don’t want to be cut off. That isn’t what I want. Isn’t there some legal way of stopping her?”

  “You could plead with her to consider a separation agreement. That would delay the divorce and buy you time. You could point out the disadvantages, for example, how a divorce might affect her real estate business and social standing in the community. You could suggest you both go to counseling. She might have a friend or family member you could appeal to, and who might advise her to change her mind.” She stopped talking and slapped the desk with her palm. “Geez, now I’m handing out domestic advice.”

  “No, no, keep talking. I’d be happy to pay you.”

  “With your wife’s money?”

  “You see, that’s what I mean. I desperately need my wife's money, and I can't get enough of Sparkle.”

  “You want it both ways,” she said, beginning to lose it. “I believe we’re done here.”

  “You’d understand if you saw Sparkle. She was usually obliging, which made it nice because I didn’t need to be so preoccupied with whether the date was going to end up good for me.” He reached inside his jacket. “Did I mention she’s young?”

  “We’re done here, Mr. Bardner.”

  “Here, I have her photo.”

  “Don't bother. You’ve seen one walking goddess, you’ve seen them all.” She understood, the guy was intensely afraid of losing what he had, obsessed with Sparkle and too self-absorbed to be bothered with reality. At that point, she simply wanted him out of there. “Mr. Bardner, I’ve given you a lot of time and listened to you politely—well, more or less politely. What is it you want from me? I’ve told you we are criminal defense lawyers. I can give you a referral. We don’t do divorces or domestic disputes here. Cases where spouses are threatening to kill each other bore the hell out of me. I don’t raise an eyebrow until someone in fact pulls the trigger.”

  “I don’t care about all those details. I know you can help me.”

  “Help you what? Put duct tape over your girlfriend’s mouth?” She stood abruptly bouncing her desk chair back with her knees. “Geez, I might as well be talking to that bookcase. You’re lying to your girlfriend and cheating on your wife. You’re not in love with Sparkle, you’re in love with screwing her. If you’d zip up and move on, your problems would disappear.” The meeting was over, the day was over and this fool stood between her and a cold Bloody Mary. “Look, Mr. Bardner, we have nothing to talk about. If you’re served with a divorce petition, get an attorney—some other attorney.”

  “Don’t you see I’m on the brink of having my life destroyed if my wife divorces me? I really do love Sparkle, and I want to go on seeing her, but she won’t talk to me. What should I do?”

  She waited until he stopped looking down at his hands, and she had his attention. “Mr. Bardner, you are risking divorce by seeing your girlfriend. Have you got that part? So stop seeing your girlfriend and make up with the woman you married.”

  “No, seriously. What should I do?” He ran his fingers through his thin brown hair. “In some way, I must stop her from telling my wife, and stop my wife from divorcing me.”

  The following morning, Nigel Edwards arrived early for his second day of employment as a research assistant at the Bronner & Reid law office. The young man booted his computer at the reception desk, let it load and walked across the hallway to Sandy’s office, where she was speaking with Martin. “Good morning, Miss Reid, Mr. Bronner.”

  Martin smiled and greeted him. Sandy said, “Good morning to you, Nigel. And if no clients are within earshot just make it Sandy and Martin.”

  Nigel said, “Hard to believe you two have been together for only three years. You operate smoothly as though you’ve been partners for life. You certainly make an interesting yet somehow irregular couple.”

  “We are definitely irregular,” she said. “Martin is unquestionably a sunny side of the street type fellow. I prefer a dark alley murder with a few badass scoundrels thrown in.”

  Pushing thirty, she’d been living her dream starting with law school wh
ile working as a field investigator for a criminal defense law firm in Philadelphia, where she learned about the legal side of crime.

  “At the time we met,” Martin said, “I was playing at being a lawyer, partly to satisfy my dying father. Sandy was newly admitted to the bar and desperate to make a name for herself.”

  Martin was a barely-forty bachelor attracted to the arts, to the few exotic places he had not yet been and to a particular woman he might never have. Although born into family wealth, he shunned the luxurious lifestyle and noticeable displays of affluence. Everything came easily to him, except Sandy Reid, and in that regard, he suffered in silence.

  “Martin already had this remarkable law office, with a few inherited clients, when I crashed upon the scene,” she explained. “I was starting out and couldn’t afford an office of my own, which I dearly wanted. After working together successfully on a big-deal case, I realized I didn’t want to be any other place.” She glanced confidently at Martin and around the office. “One hefty litigation settlement established our name, and since then our reputation has been a beacon guiding the rich, the poor and the incarcerated yearning to breathe free. We now have the luxury of being able to choose who we want to defend.”

  The office phone rang, and Nigel hurried back to his front desk to answer. In a moment he was back. With a serious face and wide eyes, he said, “Miss Reid, the state attorney is holding for you. State Attorney, Melvin Shapiro, you want it?”

  “You can cease standing at attention, Nigel. The state attorney is indeed important, but you don’t need to salute the phone when he calls.” She picked up the phone.

  Shapiro said, “We’ve got a Lester Bardner here and the guy says you’re his attorney.”

  “No way! My insight was no match for his obsession. I turned him down.”

  “If he’s already spoken to you about this matter, then we need to talk.”

  “Trust me, Mel, what Bardner and I spoke about isn’t the concern of the top judicial honcho in the district.”

  “Well, he’ll need someone. We just arrested him for first-degree murder.”