Get Busy Dying (Roy Ballard Mysteries) Page 23

  Eleven seconds elapsed with nobody moving on the screen. Then a figure appeared from the right. A man in blue shorts and a white T-shirt, carrying a water bottle, and wearing a ball cap and sunglasses. He was walking, not jogging, on the near side of the street. Average height. Average weight. Was it Cooney? One of his partners? It was impossible to tell.

  Then the man actually stopped right at the foot of Delaney’s driveway. He was winded from his jog. He lifted the water bottle and took a long drink. There was no gasoline in that bottle. Never had been.

  The man removed his cap to wipe his forehead. He was bald. Not balding. Bald. Completely. There wasn’t a hair on his head. It wasn’t Cooney. It wasn’t Moyer or Buerger or Evans. It was just some bald dude jogging. He put his cap back on and walked right out of the frame.

  Well, damn.

  It didn’t mean Cooney hadn’t set the fire, but it meant the most promising piece of evidence had turned out to be worthless. It wasn’t evidence at all. Lucian, Mia’s neighbor, had said the man had had dark blond or light brown hair, but witness testimony was notoriously unreliable.

  I reached out to stop the video and then I paused.

  Another person had just entered the frame from the right-hand side, carrying a soft drink can, and walking briskly. With purpose. The way someone would walk if they’d just set a fire and needed to leave the neighborhood quickly.

  And I knew immediately who it was.

  42

  As I drove back to Austin, Mia and I spoke for at least an hour on the phone, going over all the details of the case, and finally understanding how some of the missing pieces fit together.

  Then, just before sundown, we met in the parking lot of Candice Klein’s apartment complex.

  I wasn’t beating myself up anymore, as I had been when I’d left Port Arthur. I’d felt so gullible, but as Mia had pointed out, it’s impossible to see into someone’s soul. If a person—in this case, Candice—has a freakish ability to lie convincingly, in the absence of any contradictory evidence, why wouldn’t you believe her? I had certainly believed her. So had Mia. And, actually, there was other evidence—the fact that I had seen Candice at Albeck’s ranch—but I’d incorrectly interpreted that as proof of her innocence rather than evidence of her involvement in the scam.

  We made our way quietly up the concrete staircase and paused at the top of the landing on the second floor. Candice’s door was less then ten feet away. Light was showing through the closed blinds in the window beside the door. We stepped to the door and listened. Silence.

  No sense in waiting. I pulled my phone out and dialed her number. A few seconds later, we could hear her phone ringing inside the apartment. Then she answered, and I felt a sense of relief. We’d figured there was a good chance she’d gone down to Mexico to meet up with Boz Gentry.

  I wasn’t going to give her a chance to lie again. “Hey, Candice, it’s Roy Ballard. Mia and I are standing outside your door right now. We had a few more questions, but Mia convinced me it was rude to show up without calling. So I’m calling first.”

  Now she knew that we knew she was home.

  She let out a sigh, as if this were an imposition. “Can it wait until tomorrow?” she said.

  “It won’t take long,” I said. “Just a few minutes and we’ll be out of your hair.”

  “Let me change clothes. Just a sec.”

  She hung up.

  We waited. She wouldn’t be exiting through a back door because she didn’t have one. Besides, she didn’t know it was time to run.

  She opened the door about a minute later, wearing yoga pants and a large, loose, pink sweatshirt. Her hair was in a ponytail and, like last time, she had no make-up on, but she had a great complexion without it.

  “I was just about to go to bed,” she said.

  “Sorry to bother you,” I said.

  “Mind if we come inside for just a minute?” Mia asked.

  Candice reluctantly opened the door and let us in. This was important, because we wanted to see if there were any signs that she was about to leave town. The cat, Sadie, immediately appeared at my ankles, purring and rubbing. Great.

  “I don’t have any coffee,” Candice said.

  “That’s okay,” Mia said.

  “Got any Dr Pepper?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” Candice said.

  “But you like Dr Pepper, don’t you?” I said.

  “What?”

  “Never mind,” I said.

  “I don’t mean to be rude,” Candice said, “but I’m really beat. Why exactly are you here?”

  We were still standing near the front door, but I took a few steps and sat on the sofa, and Mia followed and sat beside me, so Candice felt obligated to sit in the upholstered chair she’d occupied the last time we’d been here. The damn cat wasted no time hopping up into my lap.

  “Guess you heard about Boz,” I said. “Down in Mexico.”

  Candice nodded.

  Mia and I had discussed at length the best way to approach Candice. We’d agreed to go at her head-on.

  “What surprises us,” Mia said, “is that you aren’t down there with him.”

  Candice frowned, just a little. Playing confused. “What’re you talking about?” she said.

  “Candice,” I said, “you’re very good. Seriously. Most people aren’t skilled liars—at least not face to face. But you’ve got a knack for it.”

  “What the hell?” she said, her voice rising. “Why are you saying that?” Now she was pretending to be appalled and offended. Indignant, like I had some nerve talking to her that way.

  “Because we have video of you one block from Mia’s house, just a minute or two after you started the fire.”

  Candice sort of jerked her head and her eyes widened, but no words came out.

  “You’re wondering if I’m bluffing,” I said. “Let me assure you that I’m not. I can show you the video on my phone, if you’d like.”

  Mia said, “Right before we knocked on your door, we emailed the clip to a long list of people—to the arson investigation team, and to the detectives investigating Boz’s alleged death and Tyler’s murder. It was tempting for us to stay out of it and let them question you, but when some twisted bitch tries to burn your house down, you take it a little personally.”

  Now Candice came right back up out of her chair, angry and glaring. “I have no idea what either of you are raving about and you need to leave. Right now.”

  Neither of us budged. The cat decided I wasn’t giving her enough attention, so she hopped down and wandered into the bedroom.

  “I’m guessing when the cops subpoena your credit-card and debit-card records, they’ll see that you bought a gas can and a small quantity of gas that very morning,” I said. “A woman like you doesn’t keep a gas can handy, because why would you? You don’t have a lawn mower or anything like that. And you wouldn’t have siphoned gas from your car. So you bought it. Then you carried that gas in a Dr Pepper can. We could see it in the video.”

  Candice was stone-faced.

  “Not a lot of gas, but more than enough to start a fire,” Mia said.

  “It would’ve been easy enough for you to toss that can out the window when you were driving,” I said. “But I bet you tossed it into a trash can in the parking lot across from the Hula Hut. I bet they don’t empty those trash cans very often, and I bet your Dr Pepper can will still have your fingerprints on it.”

  “See, we think you were working with Boz from the start on this scam,” Mia said. “But Tyler didn’t know Boz had another partner. There was no reason to tell him. But we got at least one thing wrong: Boz wasn’t planning to leave the country with Erin, he was planning to leave with you. At first.”

  Candice was beginning to appear rattled. It was dawning on her how bad this situation really was.

  I said, “He was hiding out here in your apartment for the first few weeks, right? Waiting for the insurance money to be released? Originally, we assumed Erin had to be in
volved—at least afterward—because she was the beneficiary. But then we finally realized the money would be put into a bank account that Boz and Erin shared, which meant he’d still have access to it, even though he was supposedly dead. He could go online and transfer it to another account—probably a foreign account—one that Erin didn’t even know existed. By the time she figured out where the money went, you and Boz would be long gone, too. Of course, some of this is speculation on our part, but are we close?”

  Her only response was to cross her arms and try to look petulant.

  “Unfortunately,” Mia said, “The plan went south. The cops started to wonder if that was really Boz in the wreck, and they started investigating pretty hard, and you knew they’d eventually come around and ask you some questions. They’d learn about your affair with Boz, so they’d be watching you. Might even tap your phone or get a warrant to search your place. So Boz decided it would be better if he stayed somewhere else. He came up with the idea of hiding at Alex Albeck’s ranch house. Seemed perfect, because the house is usually empty this time of year. Alex isn’t out there often except during hunting season.”

  I said, “Only problem is—and I don’t think you know this—is that Alex’s ranch foreman is staying at the house right now. Had a little tiff with his wife and she kicked him out. So sad. That meant Boz was screwed. He didn’t have a house to stay in, and he didn’t want to risk camping out, because the foreman might stumble on him.”

  I could tell that Candice’s mind was racing as she processed this information.

  “You didn’t know any of that, did you?” I said. “You thought he was staying at the ranch, but after a certain amount of time, you started to worry about him. To wonder if he was doing okay, or even if he had high-tailed it without you. I’m guessing you didn’t have disposable cell phones—you never anticipated needing any—so you couldn’t call to see how he was doing. Then I showed up to talk to Tyler, and that’s when you really started to worry. You were probably listening right outside the door, so you heard the conversation. You knew I was going to try to find Boz. You heard me open my big mouth and say cops have boundaries that don’t apply to me as much, or words to that effect. You’re smart enough to know that meant we might decide to search Alex Albeck’s ranch.”

  Mia said, “So you came up with a plan to get us out of the picture. You tried to burn my house down. You thought we’d be too busy trying to catch the arsonist to focus on Boz.”

  Candice didn’t try to deny any of this. I sensed that she realized it was futile at this point. She simply remained silent.

  Mia continued. “Then, that afternoon, you went out to Albeck’s ranch. Not just to check on Boz, and because you missed him, but to warn him about us. Only problem was, Boz wasn’t there. There was no sign of him at all. That must’ve freaked you out a little. Where the hell was he?”

  “You know where he was, Candice?” I asked. “Did he ever come clean about that?”

  She glared at me.

  “He’d gone back to Erin,” I said, shaking my head. “And she actually let him stay. Man, that dude must talk a good game. Why do women continually fall for his bullshit?”

  It was plain from the pained expression on Candice’s face that she hadn’t known this.

  “He betrayed you,” Mia said. “Yes, he was originally planning to take off with you, but he changed his mind. He was trying to convince Erin to run away with him, with or without the money.”

  “That’s not true,” Candice said in a small voice. “Boz loves me.” She still seemed so convinced of that fact. Ridiculous.

  “Maybe so, maybe not,” I said. “If he does, why is he in Mexico while you’re sitting here alone?”

  She started to say something, but decided to keep quiet instead. Why did I have the feeling that something wasn’t quite right? That I was missing an obvious clue?

  “Believe it or not, I actually feel a little sympathy for you,” Mia said. “I think you got duped by Boz. He took advantage of you, and you got involved in his crazy scheme because you loved him, despite the fact that he was a proven liar and cheater. That’s incredibly stupid, but I can sort of understand.”

  Candice’s expression of stubborn resolve was finally beginning to waiver. I sort of wished the cat was still in my lap so I’d have a reason to look somewhere other than Candice’s sad face.

  “On the other hand—the fire at my house—that was all you. Nobody asked or told you to do that. You came up with that all by yourself. That means you are a dangerous woman, and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you get locked up for it.”

  Right there, after that remark from Mia, was when we should’ve left. We had the evidence that would almost certainly convict Candice for arson, and that should’ve been enough. But hindsight is 20/20. I had no way of knowing what I was about to say would drastically alter the future.

  I said, “What we’re going to do, Candice—in case you’re thinking of leaving town—is wait outside and keep an eye on your place. All night, if we have to. I imagine the cops will be here soon—by morning at the latest—to ask you some questions. They might even have a warrant for your arrest by then.”

  I didn’t know it yet, but I had just pushed it too far. I wasn’t worried about Candice or what she might do. She was showing no signs of doing anything rash. She was resigned. Defeated. She wasn’t going to throw herself at me and try to scratch my eyes out. But Candice wasn’t the problem.

  Boz Gentry was. Because right then he emerged from Candice’s bedroom with a handgun.

  43

  I’ll admit I was speechless for several seconds, and because neither Boz Gentry nor Candice said anything, the room was silent, except for the cat’s insistent mewing.

  Jesus, the cat.

  I’m such a dumbass. That’s what I’d missed. I should have wondered why Sadie had left me alone. She’d gone into the bedroom, where Boz had been hiding, because she preferred him to me. Seemed every female fell under his spell.

  Finally I said, “Oh, hey, it’s Boz Gentry. Speak of the devil. I was—”

  “Shut up,” he said. “Either of you talks again, you’re dead.”

  Boz was aiming the gun, a revolver, directly at my head from about eight feet. Close enough to ensure he wouldn’t miss, but far enough that I couldn’t make a sudden lunge. Mia and I remained still and quiet. Boz Gentry had already killed two people. He had no reason to stop now. I don’t carry my Glock on a regular basis, but I wished like hell I was carrying it right now.

  “Baby, you got any rope?” he said over his shoulder to Candice.

  “What?”

  “We need to tie ’em up and get the hell out of here.”

  Candice didn’t move.

  “Candy!” Boz barked. “Baby, we gotta get moving.”

  “I don’t have any,” Candice said. “It’s true, isn’t it? What they said?”

  The cat was still rubbing against Boz’s shins, purring loudly. He kicked her away, but she came right back.

  “They’re liars,” he said, his eyes locked on mine as he sighted down the barrel. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “Where were you when I came out to the ranch?” Candice said. “You weren’t there.”

  “Baby, please,” Boz pleaded. “Not right now.”

  He was fidgeting with the gun—anxious and on edge—and I didn’t like it. Men in Boz Gentry’s mental state rarely made logical or compassionate choices. He’d kill both of us to get away.

  “You were with Erin,” Candice said, starting to cry. “Admit it.”

  “Baby...” Boz said.

  “Tell me the truth, Boz. For once. Be a man and tell the truth.”

  “I had to go somewhere,” he said, clearly becoming angry. “I went home. Where else was I supposed to go?”

  “You were going to leave with Erin, weren’t you?”

  “No, baby. We’re running out of time. The cops might already be on their way.”

  “Do you have a passport
, Candice?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “Shut up!” Boz said. I could see his finger tightening on the trigger.

  But I couldn’t shut up. Candice had already said she didn’t have any rope, and I knew Boz wouldn’t leave us here alive, unrestrained. He’d kill us. That’s why I had to take a chance. I had to turn Candice against Boz for good. He wouldn’t kill her, too. She was his only hope for escape.

  So I repeated myself. “Do you have a passport?”

  “Boz got a fake passport for Erin,” Mia said. She knew what I was doing, and she wasn’t going to let me take all the risk by myself. I’d never been more proud to be her partner.

  “Quiet!” Boz yelled.

  “But he didn’t get one for you, Candice,” I said. “Did he?”

  Boz took one step closer and pointed the revolver with more conviction. His mouth was twisted into a grimace. “I’ve got nothing to lose,” he said. “You understand that?”

  “Boz?” Candice said. She sounded pathetic.

  “I have a passport for you in the car,” Boz said.

  “That might be his biggest lie yet,” I said.

  If he was going to shoot—right here, in the apartment, for all the neighbors to hear—he’d shoot now. But, instead, he made a move as if he wanted to strike me with the butt of the revolver. He thought better of it and stayed where he was, out of my reach.

  “He killed Erin,” I said.

  “That’s a lie!” Boz shouted.

  “Because she was pressuring him to turn himself in,” I said. “They probably argued and he lost his temper. Before that, he killed Tyler.”

  “Boz?” Candice said.

  “That’s why he came back to you,” Mia said. “He can’t make it on his own. He’s too recognizable. But you aren’t.”

  “I came back because I love her,” Boz said.

  I could feel the sweat dampening my armpits. My heart was racing wildly. I was willing Candice to do something, anything, to distract Boz and give me an opening. If she’d just go into the bedroom, lock the door, and call 9-1-1. Or, the opposite—get angry and lash out at him.