Chapter 65
EDDIE
April was at the Little League field on Tuesday morning.
I’d debated how to get word to her. I had to be careful.
It was unlikely that the police were still monitoring her every move, but it wasn’t impossible, so I ruled out approaching her house during daylight hours.
Trying to find out her cell number—which I’d intentionally never asked for—and leaving a message was even more problematic. While I didn’t think they were following her around, the police could still be monitoring her phone.
I didn’t have many great options, but I had to talk to April, so I came up with the least worst option; if that’s even a phrase.
On Monday night, at midnight, while Lucy was fast asleep, I drove to April’s house.
I parked on Berkeley Street—just in case—and walked the hundred or so yards to her house on Lipton Avenue.
I was wearing a hoodie and would have looked suspicious if anyone had walked by me, which no one did. It was a Monday in the suburbs of Santa Monica. If I were down by the beach where all the hotels, bars, and restaurants were, that would have been different.
On a small piece of paper, I’d written the words “Little League Field. Tuesday. Nine a.m.” I feared that if I left the paper on the mat outside her door, she might not see it, so I attempted to slide it under the door jamb. I was successful on my second try.
I walked back to my car and drove home, trying to make as little noise as possible when I climbed back into bed.
On Tuesday morning, I was overly cautious.
I parked about fifty yards above the Little League field. If I had seen any other car besides April’s, I would have been out of there. That seemed highly unlikely since I’d slid the piece of paper under the door jamb, but better to be safe than sorry. Especially with life in prison on the line.
Luckily, no other car followed April into the Little League field parking lot, so after two minutes, I drove down to meet her. As usual, no one else was there. It was odd. This place was packed every Saturday or Sunday during Little League season, but it was a veritable ghost town during February.
We talked on the gravel behind one of the dugouts. It was a little better hidden than the adjoining parking lot. Again, just in case.
“This better be fucking important,” April said.
“It’s nice to see you, too.”
“Don’t try to be cute. This isn’t the time for it. You know how much pressure I’m under. I have to answer the police’s questions every other day. I had to organize a funeral and then act like it was the worst day of my life.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s part of the gig.”
“Why am I here?”
This was no-nonsense April.
“Listen, I know the time isn’t right, but we don’t have any choice.”
“Choice of what? What are you talking about?”
“I overheard my wife talking to her mother, and she’s going to divorce me.”
“Overheard? That doesn’t sound like something she’d discuss in your vicinity. You sure it wasn’t one of those little bugs, like the one you used to find out about my married life?”
April was good. She seemed even more self-assured than before the murder.
“So what if it was?” I asked.
She let out a knowing smile. “I knew it. What a creep.”
I had to keep my calm. This couldn’t spiral out of control.
“Stop being fucking sarcastic and listen, April,” I said, not exactly keeping my calm.
“Lucy is planning to divorce me in a few weeks. Once that goes through, I will have no claim to her parents’ money.
That means they must be killed before then.
They are going to Lake Tahoe this weekend, and it has to be done. ”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Do I look like I’m freaking kidding? We agreed on this.
If I killed David, you would kill Lucy’s parents.
And I’m sorry the time doesn’t line up perfectly, but we have no choice.
I didn’t kill David so you could get five million dollars, while I got jack squat.
Lucy’s parents are worth like twenty-five million. Maybe more.”
“The cops are stopping by my place every other day. How can I get away?”
“Have they dropped by since the funeral?”
“No,” April admitted.
“See, that was probably a turning point. They won’t bother you as much now. It’s been over ten days, and they’ve probably asked you a thousand questions.”
“At least.”
“See. Eventually, they’ll have nothing more they can ask you, and maybe they’ve hit that point.”
April sighed. “How would this go down?”
“I’ve thought long and hard about it.”
“Oh, we’ve got nothing to worry about then.”
“Shut up, April. And listen.”
She glared at me but didn’t say anything.
“I’ve been to Tahoe with her parents three separate times. They always go for a walk at 7:30 a.m. Like clockwork. They’ve been doing it for years, way before I came into the picture. Then they come back, and Iris prepares breakfast.”
“Can you not use their first names?”
“How many times did you suggest we kill David?”
This conversation continued to go sideways.
“That was different. He was my husband. These are your in-laws.”
“Fine. My in-laws will be leaving for a walk at 7:30. Tahoe is about seven hours from Los Angeles, so if you left around midnight, you’d be there well before they left.
In fact, if you’d prefer, you could shoot them as they started their walk.
Either way, after you shoot and kill them, you get back on the road immediately, and you’ll be back before three p.m.”
“I have so many questions.”
“Go ahead.”
“I don’t have a gun. How am I going to shoot them?”
“I have a gun for you. Like the one I used on David, it can’t be traced. I bought it years ago from a second-hand junkie down on Skid Row. And I promise, it’s 100% untraceable.”
“What about neighbors? Or cameras?”
“Her parents have no cameras, and the closest neighbor is hundreds of yards away. This is a huge house. It’s not some little Tahoe cabin with other cabins mere feet away.
That’s what twenty-five million can help you get.
Some peace and quiet. Some distance from your neighbors.
And that’s what makes this so easy. By the way, have you ever fired a gun? ”
“Yes, I have.”
“I can help give you pointers if you haven’t.”
“Do you listen? I said I have.”
“Okay, okay.”
“I’m probably a better shot than you. I won’t have to go back five seconds later for a follow-up shot.”
I managed to laugh. April had never been a sweetheart, but she was now playing the part of a full-on villain.
“Damn. That hurt.”
“What if the police try to contact me while I’m gone?” April asked, staying on point.
“First off, make sure to leave your phone at home. We don’t want it pinging anywhere near Tahoe.
And when you get back at three p.m., if they have called you, you call them back and tell them that you needed a you day and hadn’t checked your phone all day.
That would certainly be understandable for someone in your position. ”
“You really have thought this through, haven’t you?”
“Yes. We aren’t going to get caught, April. And after you do this for me, we are square. We’ll both be rich.”
“What if Lucy starts to divorce you before the inheritance becomes hers?”
“No chance. Her parents will have just been murdered. I’ll be the doting husband, and she would never consider divorcing me while dealing with her parents’ death. Never ever. It would be a terrible look, and she just wouldn’t do it.”
“And this gun is untraceable?”
“Completely.”
“How about the address to the home? And directions. I won’t be able to use my GPS without my phone.”
“I’ll write down the directions and give them to you when I give you the gun. And then burn the piece of paper after you’ve killed Lucy’s parents.”
“Of course. I’m not a fucking imbecile. When did you plan on giving me the gun?”
“How about Friday morning?”
April took a few seconds to think about it. “That won’t work. We’re reopening the coffee shop tomorrow, and I’ll be working Friday morning, too. Probably better not to have any abrupt changes at work.”
“Smart thinking. Hope you’re not scheduled for Saturday morning.”
“No. I’m off.”
“Okay, good.”
“How about I pick up the gun on Friday night?” April asked.
“Friday night is fine. What time?”
“Honestly, right before I hit the road to Tahoe would probably be best. The police aren’t going to be following me late at night.”
“So, eleven thirty on Friday night? And then you head to Tahoe right after we meet?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Just think, April. It’s almost over.”
“Somehow that’s not that comforting.”
“You’ll do fine. You’ve been doing great so far.”
“I have been, but how do you know that?”
“Well, there are no cops following you here. You’re not in jail, and neither am I. So I’m going to assume you’ve been handling your business just fine.”
She let out a cocky smile. “I’ve been perfect.”
“I have no doubt. That’s why I know you’ll handle Tahoe as well.”
“I’ll see you Friday at eleven thirty. And I’m assuming you’ll have bullets for me as well.”
“Of course.”