Fatal Fortune by Victoria Laurie
“I am,” he said. A moment later he added, “Holy shit! How did I miss that?”
“We all did!”
“It’s not her,” he said, his voice now choked with emotion. “Jesus, Abby, it’s not her!”
“I know!” My own eyes misted again. I felt a well of relief so intense it was euphoric. “She’s innocent. All this time, Candice was innocent. But somebody’s gone to great lengths to frame her, and set her up to take the fall for multiple murders.”
“Who?”
“I wish I knew, Brice. And there’s more, but you’re not going to like any of it.”
“Tell me.”
For the next twenty minutes I explained everything that’d happened since I’d spoken to him earlier. He interrupted a few times after I told him Candice had saved my life and that I’d noticed what rough shape she was in. And I ended with her telling me that I needed to leave town at once.
“I know that Candice is in big trouble here, Brice. Someone is out to frame her but good, and it seems that they’re one step ahead of her at this point. I can’t just leave her to try to figure this out on her own. But I don’t think she was exaggerating when she said my being here makes both of us vulnerable. She needs me, but I also put her in danger the longer I stay.”
“She’s right, Abby,” Brice said, and I could hear him moving around. “You can’t stay there. At least not on your own. Do like she said. Head to the airport.”
My heart sank. “You think I should come home,” I said.
“No,” Brice replied. “I think you should go to the airport and pick me up. I’ll get the first flight out and be there in a few hours.”
* * *
I used Candice’s cash to pay for the cab to the airport and waited anxiously for Brice. In spite of the fact that I hadn’t slept a wink, I still felt wide-awake and ready for action. I didn’t just want to help clear Candice’s name—I wanted to slay dragons for her. Underlying that was the grinding guilt for ever having doubted her; even though I’d been ready to forgive her for anything she might’ve done, I still should’ve kept the faith from the beginning. If I had, maybe I would’ve been a little more objective about the video, and I would’ve picked up on the right-handed shooter more quickly.
From the looks of Brice as he came down the escalator, I knew he had to be feeling much the same guilt for ever doubting his wife and the love of his life. “Let’s grab my bag and then get a car,” he said after giving me another of those out-of-character hugs. I think we both needed the reassurance.
“What’d you say to Dutch?” I asked after he’d gotten his luggage and we were on our way to the rental car kiosk.
“I told him I was going to Vegas to bring you back.”
I smiled. “And he bought that?”
Brice grinned sideways at me. “Hook, line, and sinker.”
“You’d think by now he’d know better.”
“You would,” Brice agreed. “But he’s probably gonna hold a grudge for a while.”
“Hmmm. We should stop by the store on our way home once we clear Candice. I’ve learned that a well-cooked steak and a fresh supply of beer go a long way to melting my hubby’s cold shoulder.”
“A well-cooked steak, huh? So, I’m gonna have to stick around and grill it for him?”
“Duh,” I said. The only thing I knew how to operate around the outdoor grill was the fire extinguisher.
Brice and I got a rental under his name and before getting inside, I watched him pull out his Glock from his bag, tucking it into the back of his belt. I felt so much more secure having him here with me.
“Where do you want to start?”
I’d had the last several hours to think about that very question, and my radar kept pinging back to Lenny Fusco’s murder. For some reason I thought that was the key. “We need to go see a friend of mine,” I told Brice. “Detective Robert Brosseau. I’ve already called and told him we’re on our way.”
Brice glanced over at me. “Can we trust him? I mean, at this moment I still have a job, but if the Vegas bureau finds out I’m here, snooping around, my suspension is going to turn into a discharge.”
“Yes. I already told him that if he rats us out to the Feds, I’d tell his wife on him. Trust me—he’ll keep our secret.”
I directed Brice to Robert’s Vegas PD substation, and he was waiting for us in the lobby. He greeted us warmly, and I was grateful to have made such a good friend a few years back. “In here,” he said, leading us into a conference room. He carried a police file with him, and I suspected it was Lenny Fusco’s.
“So, Abby, you said on the phone you have proof that Candice isn’t guilty of the murder of Dr. Robinowitz. What do you have to show me?”
I opened up my laptop and swiveled it around so that Robert could see, playing the video for him and pointing out the inconsistencies. At the end of it, I could tell Robert remained skeptical. “Couldn’t she have used her right hand just to create reasonable doubt later?”
“It’s not her, Robert,” I said firmly. “The more I look at how she stands, how she holds her weapon, and Robinowitz’s reaction to her—I just know it’s not her.”
Brice said nothing while Robert and I discussed the video, but I could tell that he was biting his tongue. He was itching to defend his wife, no doubt about it.
“Okay, so it’s not Candice. Who do you think it might be?”
I had a hunch, not a good one, or even one that made any of the puzzle pieces fit together easily, and it was one I had briefly considered while at Robinowitz’s condo. I was thinking that, as Saline had been found in Candice’s car, wearing her clothes and her jewelry, maybe it could be her posing as Candice in the video. Pointing to Lenny Fusco’s file, I added, “I know you probably have the file Lenny collected on Saline Hamon. Can I see it?”
“I turned that over to the Feds,” Robert said. “I’ve got a copy on my computer, but it’s pretty thick and it’d take me a while to print it out, Abby. Is there something in it you’re looking for in particular?”
“Well, for starters, I’d really like to see a photo of her if you have one on file.”
Robert smiled. “I’ve got one of her right here, actually,” he said, sorting through Lenny’s file. “I was looking at her as a possible suspect, so I dug up some stuff on her.” After a moment he said, “Here it is.” He then placed a DMV photo on the table, turning it so that both Brice and I could take a look.
Saline was strikingly pretty. She had long brown hair, beautiful brilliantly green eyes, a straight delicate nose, and the kind of full lips women would kill for. Her only flaw seemed to be a rather square jaw that made her appear perhaps a bit too serious. “Wow,” I said, thinking how sad it was that Saline would never look like this again. “She’s gorgeous.”
“She’s a looker,” Robert agreed.
I then compared Saline’s picture to the woman in the video on the screen of my computer. It was impossible to tell whether it was her because the woman in the video was captured only in profile and much of her jawline was hidden by her hair. But then I read something on the DMV copy that gave me pause. “Hold on,” I said. “This says that Saline is five-four. Is that true?”
Robert pulled up his laptop and began to type something into it. “Seems to be,” he said. “She lists the same height for each of her driver’s licenses.”
I looked at Brice. He read my silent question perfectly. “After we figured out it wasn’t Candice, I went back to the hospital. She’s definitely smaller.”
I dug into my purse and pulled up the file Candice had asked me to hide for her. Taking out the fake ID Candice had created, I looked again at the information at the bottom, listing Samantha Dubois as five-four with green eyes. My eyes flickered back to Saline’s photo, those green eyes popping in the light from the flash. A few more puzzle pieces were starting to come together, includin
Still, just to be absolutely sure, I went back to the frozen image on the video. I advanced it a few frames to the last step she took before drawing her gun. “Do we know how tall Dr. Robinowitz was?”
Brosseau turned again to his computer. “His driver’s license lists him as six-two.”
“No way is that Saline,” I said pointing to the woman in the video. “Look, Brice, I know she’s wearing heels, but still, she’s at least five-eleven in them. I’ve seen those boots up close, and they’d never add seven inches. I’d say that in bare feet this woman is at least five-seven to five-nine.”
“So, whoever she is, she’s Candice’s height or maybe a little taller,” Brice said.
“Yes.” Then I thought of another angle to try to identify who she could be. “Brice, did Candice ever mention any woman who had a serious grudge against her? Someone who lived here who might be capable of doing something like this?”
Brice shook his head. “You know Candice,” he said. “She’s pretty tight-lipped about her past.”
I frowned. “Yeah. She’s like that with me too. Maybe the wife of one of her clients heard she was back in town? I know Candice used to specialize in catching cheating spouses in the act. Maybe Candice caused some woman to lose a lot of money as a result?”
Brice scratched his head. “That’s a little far-fetched, though, don’t you think?”
“All of this is a little far-fetched,” I countered. “I mean, this took some serious planning.”
At that moment Robert’s cell phone rang. Lifting it from his belt, he looked at the display and said, “Excuse me. I gotta take this.”
He left the room and I continued. “You can’t put something like this together on a whim. Someone had to have been keeping tabs on Candice, and still has that capability. I mean, it’s almost like Candice is up against an evil Candice.” And just like that, a clue so huge I couldn’t believe I’d missed it bulleted its way into my brain and I actually gasped. “Ohmigod!”
“What?” Brice asked.
Instead of answering him, I pulled Lenny Fusco’s file toward me and began to sift through it in earnest. “Lenny is the key!” I said, frantic to find the piece of paper that would prove my theory. “But not in the way we thought!”
“Abby, what is it?” Brice demanded.
At last I found the witness statement I was looking for. Holding it up, I felt a tremor of excitement go through me. “Lenny found Candice when she was young and naive. He trained her and groomed her to be an amazing PI. Then he took advantage of her and used her license to get away with all sorts of questionable stuff. At least, that’s the story Candice told me when she talked about Lenny, which was only once while we were out here and he nearly caused us to get killed. Lenny was a scum, but he was a pretty smooth-talking scum. He had this ability to get women to trust him. And after Candice, he moved on to someone who was a whole lot like her.”
I turned the witness statement around so that Brice could read it. “Lenny’s wife?”
“Michelle Fusco,” I said. “I remember an especially tense encounter we’d had with her a couple of years ago. I don’t remember her face, but I do remember that she was Candice’s equal physically: tall, lean, and so strong she put your wife in a headlock. That bitch was cunning and quick.”
Abruptly, the door opened and Robert came back into the room. “Sorry, guys, I’ve got a possible homicide I have to get to. I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’d appreciate it if you two would stay put here until then. No going off to investigate on your own, or you’ll get me in hot water.”
I smiled brightly at him, hoping I looked especially trustworthy. “Go. Do your thing. We’ll wait right here.”
The second the door was closed, I reached for his laptop and pulled it close. “How does this work?” I pointed urgently to the screen, which showed the DMV database search for David Robinowitz.
“Here,” Brice said, moving closer and reaching for the laptop. He typed in the query for Michelle Fusco and I watched the screen populate with a face I was stunned to recognize. “Oh. My. God!” I said, pointing to the screen again and thinking myself an idiot for not putting it all together sooner. “I know her!”
“You said you met her the last time you were out here, right?” Brice said.
I shook my head. “No. We didn’t exactly ‘meet.’ It was more like I saw her at a distance, but I’ve actually been introduced to her again while I’ve been here in Vegas, and everything now makes sense!”
Brice stood up, grabbing the file and my hand. “Tell me on the way,” he said.
Chapter Thirteen
• • •
Brice drove while I slowly wound my way through what I thought Michelle had done to kill two birds with one stone.
“Lenny cheated on Candice with Michelle back when they were married,” I told Brice. “When we found Lenny after he tried to turn us in two years ago, they were living in a trailer park. It must’ve galled Michelle that Candice had done so well for herself over the years, while she got stuck with a scum for a husband. Then, and this is just a working theory, but Lenny gets hired to run a background on Saline Hamon, who he learns is Olive Wintergarden. And Olive’s birth certificate from England reveals something startling; it lists her father as Salazar Kato. He wonders if this is the same powerful casino owner who runs Lucky Lou’s, so somehow he obtains a DNA sample from both, sends it off, and sure enough, the results come back a match.
“Knowing Lenny, he probably tried to work an angle, but here’s the tricky part that I don’t quite understand yet. Somehow Candice gets roped into a plot to change Saline’s identity.”
“How do you know that?” Brice asked me.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” I said. “Candice updated her Nevada driver’s license with the same height and eye color as Saline. In Saline’s photo, she has long brunette hair, and yet when she’s pulled from Candice’s car, she’s got short blond hair, cut and colored to perfectly match Candice. In the file Candice told me to hide was an address for an abandoned dental office in Austin, which still had a lot of the medical equipment in it when I went to check it out. Robinowitz was a plastic surgeon. Maybe he was hired to alter Saline’s appearance to make her look enough like Candice to take on the fake ID.”
“But why?” Brice said, and I could tell the theory was a little hard for him to accept.
I shrugged. “Maybe Lenny was worried for Saline’s safety, or maybe there was some money in it for him if he kept his mouth shut, but when he sees you and Candice at the Bellagio, where he worked, he knew it was his one chance to ask her for help.”
“But Candice hated Lenny,” Brice interjected. “She barely talked about him to me, but even I knew she never wanted to set eyes on him again.”
I frowned. “I know. That’s the part of the scenario that’s not really working for me either, and yet, there’s this surveillance footage from the Bellagio that suggests they met at least twice during the time she was here on your honeymoon.”
It was Brice’s turn to frown. “All that effort to hide Saline’s identity,” he said. “I still don’t understand why.”
“She had to have known something. Something big,” I said. “And Lenny knew about it, and because he was obsessed with her, he wanted to protect her.”
“But why would Candice meet with Kato and accept the cash from him? I’ve studied that photo, Abs. That is definitely my wife in the photo.”
“I don’t know, Brice. As much as I really think we’re onto something, I know we don’t yet have the whole story. But my working theory is that Kato approved of the plan to alter Saline’s appearance. She was his daughter, and maybe he was worried about any resemblance she might pose.”
“That’s
“Yeah, I know. So maybe that part still needs to be revealed. Suffice it to say, Candice was recruited to help Saline alter her appearance. She set up the ID, an apartment here in Vegas, and arranged to meet Robinowitz at the airport until Saline could arrive. Somewhere between when I last saw her and the time Robinowitz landed at ABIA, Candice gets jumped by Michelle, beaten to a pulp, and her clothes, personal belongings, and her car are stolen. Michelle then drives to the airport where Candice had agreed to meet the doctor, and in plain view of the parking garage cameras—and Michelle is an expert at surveillance cameras—she poses as Candice and shoots Robinowitz. Then, she lets Candice go, knowing that the entire city of Austin will be searching for her, and Candice can’t make a move without being brought in on a murder charge. After that, Michelle makes sure to tail me a couple of times so that I can think it’s Candice, and then, she renders poor Saline unconscious and sends her over the bridge, planting the blanket with Candice’s blood at the scene so that even if we believe it’s Candice at first who’s been pulled from the lake, at some point we’ll know it was all staged, and Candice committed another murder.”
“Holy shit,” Brice said. “This Michelle is one evil bitch!”
“Right?” I said, rubbing my hands together. I kinda couldn’t wait to get my hands on her.
“She did all this because . . . why?” Brice said next.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I mean, it seems a little crazy to think that she’d be that mad at Candice to do all this, right? I think there was something else motivating her. Clearly she was after the file in Candice’s office—I’m convinced she was the one who broke in and wrecked the joint—but why that was so important to her, I couldn’t say.”
“This all sounds so insane,” Brice said, rubbing his face with his hand. “I wish Candice had trusted me enough to come forward the second she got away from Michelle.”
“I think she wanted to protect you at all costs, Brice,” I told him, knowing my best friend well. “She was probably afraid for both your safety and your job. If she came to you, you would have talked her into turning herself in, which would have left you vulnerable. I’m sure Michelle expected Candice to go to you and do just that. She probably even counted on it, and Candice probably thought that as long as Michelle could keep guessing about her whereabouts, she’d have to keep her focus on Candice, and not on you.”