Suspicion of Vengeance (29 page)

"Then ... why would the deed be a forgery?"

"It wouldn't," Gail said, "and there goes my theory that Amber was shaking down Whit McGrath. Assuming that Whit is telling the truth."

Jackie looked at her. "And if he's lying ... where are they?" The way she phrased the question said that the grim possibility of death had already occurred to her. "I don't guess Gary Dodson would tell us."

"I guess not," Gail said.

"You think Whit is giving Gary legal work to keep him quiet about the forgery."

"Well, it's not because Whit's a nice guy."

Jackie asked, "Could I get a copy of the deed?"

"Keep this one. When I picked up the photos, I used their copy machine."

Jackie put the deed in her shoulder bag. Light glinted for an instant on steel: her off-duty weapon. "If the Mendozas are still around, we should find them. I'll run Ignacio and Celestina Mendoza and see what comes up. Maybe someone in the area knows them. The Guatemalans are close-knit."

"Are there a lot of them in the area?"

"Not as many as Mexicans, but yes, some. They came to pick citrus, and some of them stayed illegally. The Mendozas weren't migrants, though, not with ten acres of property. Who's that guy working for you? Hector?"

"Hector Mesa."

"Tell him to call me. The Latinos around here hate badges."

The glass front of the restaurant reflected an orange sky. Gail looked at her watch. "I've got to go. It's late, and I still have another stop to make."

"Gail? Last weekend... did Aunt Irene tell you what she and I talked about?"

Irene had told her everything, and Gail knew that her cousin didn't like evasive answers. "She told me your mother had an affair, and that's why your parents broke up. I didn't know about it before."

"The guy was Whit McGrath."

"Oh, no."

"Aunt Irene doesn't know because my mother never told anyone. I sort of put two and two together and came up with Whit. My mother's name might be on this deed because she did it for him."

Gail reached for her hand.

"Mom didn't go around having affairs, according to Aunt Irene. Whit wanted her, he took her. She was a beautiful woman. She was smart enough to figure out what she meant to him, so she broke it off Dad wouldn't forgive her, though. She never told him who it was. I mentioned it because you're going to see Vivian Baker tonight. If she knew about my mother and Whit McGrath, she might tell you, and I didn't want you to find out that way."

"I'm so sorry this is happening."

"Yeah. What I hope ... I really hope that if it
is
a forgery, my mother just ... you know, notarized it as a favor."

"I'm sure that's the reason. Aunt Lou couldn't have
known
it was a forgery. Never." Gail wasn't sure of that at all and could feel the same thoughts raging in Jackie's mind. "I think Whit manipulated her into it."

"Think so?"

"Yes, I do. Really, Jackie, that could be why she broke up with him, because she saw what he was."

"Bastard." She looked around at Gail. "May I go with you to see Ms. Baker? Unless you'd rather work alone. I can understand that, but I'd like to hear what she has to say." Jackie wanted answers, even at the risk of pain to herself.

Gail said, "Sure. You can come."

It took forty minutes to get to the Boca Raton address that Vivian Baker had given her, not one of the fancy condos on the intracoastal but a two-story building a mile inland. Gail and Jackie parked their cars on the street and walked to the gate at the entrance. They could see a courtyard inside with a tiny swimming pool and some concrete tables and benches.

Gail pressed the buzzer for apartment 204 and said who she was. A voice said to wait there. A minute later a thin woman in jeans and sandals and a loose white shirt came down the stairs on the opposite side. She held on to the railing to steady herself. Her dark hair was pinned at the nape of her neck, and tendrils of it had come loose. Gail tried to fit this woman with the description in the police report: an attractive brunette; business suit and diamond earrings.

"Hi. I'm Vivian." She opened the gate. "Sorry, I don't have much time. My friend has some people up there, and we're about to eat." The slur in her words said they'd already had happy hour.

"Is there somewhere we could talk?" Gail asked. They were standing in a dim entryway between the mailboxes and the manager's office.

"Umm ... over there. Okay?" The patio was deserted, and she led them to one of the tables. The lights were on.

In a brief phone conversation earlier that day, Gail had explained that she was representing a man on death row. She was reinvestigating his case, and an old deed could hold clues. It involved property at River Pines that Ms. Baker might know about. Gail had feared saying anything more would bring an immediate
no.
Vivian Baker had said, "All right. I'll look at it if you think it would help."

As they sat down, Gail introduced Jackie as simply "Jackie, who's working with me on the case." She took the deed out of her shoulder bag. "My client is Kenny Ray Clark. He was wrongfully accused of the murder of Amber Dodson in 1990. You worked with her at River Pines."

"Amber?" Large hazel eyes focused on Gail. "Yes. Oh, my goodness." Her mouth opened. "Amber. He didn't kill her? Your client, I mean. I thought—"

"He didn't do it," Gail said. "His alibi witness was pressured not to testify at his trial. Clark was nowhere near Amber's house when she was murdered, and his execution is set for April the eleventh."

Apparently Vivian Baker was still trying to comprehend this. She frowned, and deep creases ran between her brows. "Oh, my God. What can I do?"

This woman had lied for Whitney McGrath during the original investigation, but Gail couldn't think of a way to keep him out of it. "Next week I have to go into court and argue that my client is innocent. I have to give the judge some other reason why Amber Dodson was murdered. She was working at River Pines, and this deed ... I can't say it was forged, but something very odd was going on. Amber's husband was a real estate lawyer working for Hadley and Morgan. They were Whitney McGrath's attorneys at the time. Gary Dodson issued an opinion of clear title
before
this deed was recorded and probably even before it was signed. The law firm fired him and severed its relationship with McGrath. You don't work for McGrath anymore. You may still feel some loyalty, but please. If you could give me any information, anything."

Vivian Baker's face, whose red splotches had likely been put there by drink, faded to an ivory pallor. "All right. Let me see it." Head bowed over the deed, she murmured, "Mendoza. To JWM. Yes, I see. JWM was buying up property."

"Have you ever seen that deed before?"

"No. I wasn't part of that. I sold lots. I showed model homes and matched the people up to architects and interior designers."

Jackie reached over to touch the signature at the bottom. "Did you know the notary, Louise Bryce? She was a real estate agent. Some of her customers bought homes there."

"Louise Bryce. The name sounds familiar, but I can't put a face to it. I guess I'm striking out, huh?" Vivian glanced toward the second-floor balcony. "Is there anything else?"

Gail went on, "Amber Dodson wasn't working at River Pines at the time, but she came back six months after her baby was born. Remember?"

"Yes."

"A friend of Amber's told me that she had an affair with Whit McGrath before she left, and I believe she could have come back because she was still in love with him. Is this true? Were they involved again?"

"No, they weren't."

"Ms. Baker, please."

"It's the truth."

"They were never involved?"

"They
were,
but... not after she came back." Vivian Baker pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Her fingers were trembling. "I'm only here for a week, visiting my friends. I thought I'd get through it without hearing his name. I saw an article in the paper on Sunday. I used it for the dog." She laughed self-consciously. "Amber wasn't sleeping with Whit. Two women in the same office would've been a little much."

Gail waited, then said, "You and Whit."

"Believe it or not. Have you ever met Whit McGrath?"

"Both of us have."

"Then you know. He's probably the most attractive man I have ever met, but dig under that, you find out how evil he is. I thought... well, he's just a tough businessman. A man has to be tough. It makes him sexy, all that power. My therapist told me that."

A door opened along the balcony, and music spilled out. A woman appeared. She held a drink in her hand. "Viv? How much longer? The boys are getting hungry."

Vivian called, "Go ahead, start without me. It's okay." After a moment, the woman went back inside, and the door closed. "There's an extra guy up there, but I'm not really interested." She crossed her legs. They were so thin she could wrap her foot around the other calf. She leaned on her knee.

"Whit would have told me to fire Amber, but he was afraid she would embarrass him. At least with
me
he didn't have to worry. I was married. Such a slut." She forced a smile. "I'll talk to you, but that's it. I can't go to court for you. I can't do that. And if you mention my name, I'll deny I ever saw you."

Gail and Jackie exchanged a glance. Gail said, "Fine. We only want to know what was going on. Your name doesn't have to come up."

Vivian looked at them both as if to make sure, then unfolded her arms and drew the deed back across the table. "Mendoza. I remember hearing that construction might be held up because the owners of one little tract wouldn't sell out. These are the people? Ignacio and Celestina. Only ten acres. Was it a farm? He probably ran them right off the property."

"What do you mean?" Gail asked.

Her voice was as wispy as her body. "They couldn't build River Pines and have little ten-acre farms all over it, could they? If you wouldn't sell, Whit would drive you out. He would send gravel trucks up and down the road all day and night and fill your house with dust. He broke a couple of water lines, always accidentally of course. He told me about it. He thought it was funny." Vivian handed the deed back to Gail. "Does that help? I don't know what else to tell you."

Jackie said, "We're thinking the Mendoza deed was a forgery, and Amber knew about it. Her husband lost his job because of what he did for McGrath. We think McGrath hired him to keep him quiet, but Gary Dodson still wasn't making enough to suit Amber. She came back to work at River Pines so she could get money out of McGrath. Is that possible?"

"Amber wasn't like that. I mean, are you suggesting she would blackmail someone? It would never have occurred to her. No, she was very sweet. All she wanted was Whit. He didn't want her. He wanted ... he wanted her to leave him alone." Vivian stared at the table, where broken pieces of ceramic tile had been laid in a random pattern. "Oh, my God, my God." Her lips continued to move, then she looked up. "He killed her. If your client didn't do it, Whit did. No, not Whit. He's too smart. He hired someone. Money. That's all you need."

Jackie said, "If she wasn't blackmailing him, why did he want her dead?"

"Listen to me. She wouldn't leave him
alone.
He told me. She called his
house.
His wife answered. That was crossing a line, don't you see?" Vivian looked from Jackie to Gail as if comprehension would surely dawn on them. "He knew she was home that day. Her husband called to say she wouldn't be in. I took the call, and Whit was standing there, so he
knew."

"What time was the call?" Gail asked.

"About eight. I usually got there at eight, and Whit had a meeting with the construction supervisor that day."

Exchanging a glance with Jackie, Gail said, "So ... you think he might have had her killed because she was bothering him?"

"You don't believe me." Laughing softly, Vivian Baker wound a strand of hair around her finger. "I bet you don't even believe he was sleeping with me. Do you? You're young and pretty, and you're saying to yourselves, what would Whit McGrath see in
her?
Well, I was forty years old but I looked damn good. I fell in love with him the minute I saw him. He was only thirty. I was married, but my husband was older. You know? I would have done anything for Whit. Anything. One day we were supposed to meet, and he never showed up. When I finally got in touch with him, he said it was over. Just like that. Don't bother coming in tomorrow, I'll send you a check. I didn't believe it. I went to his office, but they said he wasn't there. I left notes on his car. I called and called. I even called his house. Finally he said he'd meet me."

Vivian's soft monotone kept her words in the small circle where the women sat.

"There was a place we used to go, a fishing camp on Whit's property. He said to meet him there. It was about eight o'clock at night, and I could see his car. The door of the house was open, and a light was on. I went inside. Whit wasn't there. It was a friend of his, a disgusting redneck I'd seen at the sales office a few times, picking Whit up to go fishing or whatever. God knows."

"Did you know his name?" Jackie asked.

"I never knew his name, and I don't want to know. He knocked me down and tied my hands and feet, and put a gag in my mouth. Then he sat on the floor beside me, and he had a knife. He said he was going to cut me up, cut my breasts off, then my hands. He unbuttoned my shirt and sliced my bra apart. Then he ... he held the point of the knife right on my breast. And he said... if I bothered Mr. McGrath one more time, then he'd come after me. If I called the police, he would kill me. He would hunt me down and cut me to pieces. Then he untied me and told me to get out. I drove to my best friend's house. I had to clean up. I'd messed myself. I wanted to die."

Pressing her lips tightly together, Vivian paused till her voice came back. She cleared her throat. "I never told my husband. Never. But we were never the same after that. Sam died four years ago of a heart attack. I think I killed him."

Gail felt cold inside, but sweat had dampened the back of her neck.

Jackie said, "The man who assaulted you. What did he look like?"