Chapter 5 #3
“So here’s my question,” I said. “Why Paige? Moving a woman in with him messes with the system he created. It’s not his MO.”
“I don’t know,” Jack said. He pulled the bottom drawer open. There were more office supplies and printer paper. He pulled the whole drawer free of the desk and flipped it over.
A sticky note was taped to the bottom. Six digits, written in Wade’s precise hand.
“Even people like Wade are predictable,” Jack said. “Everyone likes to think they’re unique, but in the end, even when we feel like we choose the option that others wouldn’t, we still fall into a specific human behavior pattern. It’s why all those personality tests have a slot for everyone.”
“What about serial killers and sociopaths?” I asked.
“They usually fit in those personality slots the best. A good sociopath is generally a high-functioning member of society.”
“Always comforting to know things like that.”
Jack smiled and went back to the closet and knelt in front of the safe. I stood in the doorway and watched him dial the combination, the soft click of each tumbler falling into place. He paused on the last digit, looked up at me, and turned it.
The latch released with a solid thunk.
“Bingo,” he said.
Jack swung the door open and we both looked in.
I gave a low whistle. “Well now. Things just got very interesting.”
“The dead body with the knife in his groin wasn’t interesting enough?”
Inside sat three stacks of cash, each one bank banded and at least two inches thick. Beside them was an iPhone Pro in a plain black case, and on the other side, a small leather notebook with a snap closure.
Jack picked up one of the cash stacks and flipped through it without breaking the band. “This is a lot of money to keep in a closet safe.”
“Weird he kept it at work and not at home,” I said.
He set the cash back exactly where he’d found it and picked up the notebook. He unsnapped the closure and opened it.
“What is it?” I asked.
He turned it toward me. The pages were dense with names—first names only, sometimes just initials, written down the left margin. Each entry was in one of four ink colors. Black. Red. Blue. Green. Beside some of the names was a dollar sign. Beside others, a check mark. A handful had a small star.
“It’s a system,” Jack said.
“Of course it is,” I said. “He’s a man of consistency.”
“If I was one to draw conclusions I’d say maybe the names and dollar signs in the book correlate with the stacks of cash. But what do I know.”
“Well, we know that blackmail is a dangerous business.”
“There are a lot of names in here. And they’re all women’s names.”
“Which lends itself more and more to a postmortem knife in the crotch.”
He photographed every page before he snapped it shut. “We can get a jump start comparing these names to the membership list while all this is being processed as evidence.”
Jack called Daniels to see who she had close by to come collect evidence and the electronics.
“They’re still at the scene,” Jack said when he disconnected. “A couple of guys will be down in a few minutes.”
“I need to get busy on the autopsy,” I said. “See what else Wade can tell us about himself.”
“I’m going to start the process for financials. I want to see if those stacks of cash are sequential. Derby will go through the electronics, and Martinez can get me a name for Sloane Ferriday’s husband. I want to talk to him.”
Two CSI officers showed up a few minutes later and Jack pointed them at the safe and the computer.
“Get the comp and phone to Derby,” Jack told them. “The cash needs to be photographed. Send everything over to me ASAP so I can get with the bank and look for a trace.”
“Yes, sir,” the older of the two men said.
We walked back through the empty studio where Dana was waiting for us.
“I’ve cancelled classes for the rest of the week,” she said. “The timing works with the holiday weekend. I don’t know what Wade’s succession plan was, or even if he had one, but his attorney should know. Members have paid through the month and instructors are expecting a paycheck.”
Her tone was almost robotic, and there was a blank expression on her face I recognized as shock.
“I know this is hard,” Jack said.
“I’m still trying to process,” she said. “I’m not really sure what to do next. It doesn’t feel real.”
“My advice is to go home and turn your phone off for a while,” Jack said.
She half laughed and pressed her fingers against her temples. “I was thinking I’d have a glass of wine or two.”
“Whatever works,” Jack said.
She took a thick sheaf of papers from the desk and handed them to me.
“Here’s the client list, plus those who dropped their memberships.”
“We appreciate it,” I said, slipping them inside my bag.
We said our goodbyes and then trudged back out into the heat.
“You need to eat lunch before you head back to the office,” Jack said.
“If you try to take me to that Salata I’ll strangle you in your sleep.”
He put his hand on the back of my neck and squeezed gently. “Since I want to live another day, I was going to suggest the Thai place across the street.”
“I love you,” I said, leaning into his side.
“I know. But it’s nice to hear you say so.”