Brooklyn Body: The Madison Knox Brooklyn Mystery Series (Book 3) Read online

  “Hey, maybe Chase’s specialty is horror movies,” Amy said. “I wonder if he can get me a part.” She picked up a knife off the table and made a slicing motion and a crazy face.

  “We better watch ourselves ‘round her,” Max said. “She could be a natural for the part.”

  I agreed with her, then remembered that I’d called Max after Amy and I had left Hoboken and asked her if Rosie could research the slip at the Shipyard Marina. “Any luck on finding who keeps a boat at Berth 19?”

  Max fished into her pocket. “As a matter of fact, Rosie called me as I was leaving work.” She pushed a piece of paper across the table.

  “Aaron Benedict,” I said, reading the name. I looked at Max. “Did she say anything else about him?”

  “Just that he has a boat called Dream Lover.”

  “That’s our guy.”

  “It sounds like my kinda yacht,” Amy said. “Maybe this Benedict guy is just somebody Halsey knew, and he doesn’t have any connection to Christina.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But his name was written on the same notepad with Christina’s. There’s got to be a connection. Maybe there’s an administrative office for the marina that we can call tomorrow. See what they know about him.”

  There was a knock on the door. Amy went over and found Thorndike and Kat standing there. She led them over to us, saying, “Look what the cat drug in: a creepy little ghoul and his beautiful niece.”

  “I be resenting that,” Thorndike said, scowling.

  “Good, because I resent you and that spooky wife of yours. Where is the witch?”

  “You best be careful what you say.” Thorndike fixed his eyes on Amy’s locks and smiled. “How is your hair?”

  “Still on my head.”

  “Aunt Dominika go away for a few days,” Kat said, trying to defuse things. “She be visiting a cousin in Boston.”

  “They must have a house of horrors up there,” Amy said, heading back to the table and her wine.

  “I need to be asking about my employees,” Thorndike said to me. “We got a big funeral on Sunday, and I be needing their help.”

  I told him about going by Darryl and Merrill’s flat earlier. “His landlord said they haven’t been home in several days, and some men dressed in black were looking for them.”

  “Maybe they go to work for another funeral home,” Thorndike said, after hearing the men wore black. “If that the case, I pay them more.”

  “Yeah, they could probably use more than the two bucks an hour you pay them,” Amy called over.

  Thorndike glared at her. “You hear from them, tell them to call me.” He turned to leave, but Kat didn’t follow. He said to her, “You coming?”

  “I be there in a minute.”

  “Don’t stay here too long. This bunch nothing but trouble.”

  After he was gone, we invited Kat to share our pizza. She told us what was really going on with Thorndike and his wife. “I think Aunt Dominika very angry with my uncle. They be having their differences.”

  “That’s no surprise,” Amy said. “If I had to fu...” She cleared her throat. “If I had to be around your uncle, I’d probably put a spell on him, even though it looks like she already turned him into a vampire.”

  Kat nodded. “My aunt is not someone who has patience. I think she might even be having a boyfriend.”

  “You’re kidding,” Amy said. She looked at Max and me. “Maybe Frankenstein found his new bride.”

  Even Kat laughed at what she’d said, then told us, “I still worried about Merrill. Do you think maybe he be killed?”

  “Or maybe just out porking a corpse,” Amy said, feeling the effects of her wine.

  I tried to be reassuring, even though what Kat had said was possible. “I think he and Darryl are just busy with something. They should surface soon.”

  She stood. “I hope so. I better be going, before Uncle Lola get mad.”

  After she was gone, Amy told Max what Reverend Taylor had said about Holmes. “Apparently, the guy goes around in a mask, like something from The Phantom of the Opera.”

  Max finished her wine. “You think he’s deformed?”

  “Or disfigured,” I said. “It could be that when he was a cop something bad happened to him.”

  “Maybe you should put Mojo on finding out about him,” Max suggested. “What’s the latest with the little freak?”

  “He called me today and said he’s been snooping around Christina’s office,” Amy said. “He thinks someone there might know something.”

  “He also got a thing for Christina, since she’s hot,” I said, also feeling the effects of my wine.

  “Sounds like him,” Max agreed.

  “Maybe I will put him on finding Holmes,” Amy said, looking at me. “If he’s gonna help us work cases, we need to know he’s legit.”

  I stood and took my glass to the sink. “Just don’t let him do anything stupid. Holmes is no dummy. If Mojo’s not discrete, he could get hurt.”

  Amy looked on the bright side. “Yeah, maybe the Phantom of the Opera will cut his nuts off.”

  FORTY-FIVE

  Christina sat up in bed. The boat had been slowing down for some time and she felt the waves breaking against the bow. She went over to the porthole and saw the city coming into view. In a few minutes they would probably be docking, and she had to come up with a plan.

  After Aaron had threatened to kill her mother, she’d agreed to cooperate, but she had also convinced him that she had to personally go to the bank to transfer the money in her trust fund. She had no idea if that was true, but the stalling tactic had worked. He had said he would take her to the bank so that she could transfer the money to his account. She had no intention of doing that, but she had to find a way to protect her mother.

  A half hour later, the boat had docked, and Aaron appeared in the doorway. “Time to go. I expect your full cooperation, or your mother dies.”

  Christina stood. “I want proof, first.”

  “Proof of what?”

  “That you haven’t already harmed my mother. I’m not going anywhere until I know that she’s alive.”

  Aaron studied her for a long moment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. “Call her. But if you say anything about your circumstances, I’ll personally cut her throat.”

  Christina nodded and picked up the phone. Aaron came over, insisting that she put the call on speaker as she dialed. In a moment, she heard her mother’s frantic voice.

  “I’ve been so worried about you! Where are you?”

  “I’ve been...” She took a breath. “I just needed to get away. I should be home soon. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, but I’ve been worried sick. What’s been going on?”

  Aaron snatched the phone out of her hand and ended the call. “It’s time to go. You stay by my side at all times. Don’t try to get away, or mommy dies.”

  They left the boat and took the Holland Tunnel into Manhattan, driving through the city and stopping at the Central National Bank.

  As Aaron let her out of his car, he took her by the arm and said, “We’re engaged, and you’re transferring the money into my account. Make it sound convincing and you’ll have your freedom when we’re done. If anything goes wrong, both you and your mother die.”

  Christina knew what he said about getting her freedom was a lie. Aaron, or whoever he was, would kill her after he had her money. She had no doubt about that.

  Once they were inside the bank, they spoke with a teller, who had them wait until someone could assist them with the transfer. Ten minutes later, a woman who introduced herself as Gina Logan arrived.

  “I understand that you want to make a transfer,” Logan said, as they stood.

  Aaron answered. “Yes, we’re getting married.”

  “Congratulations. Let’s go over to my desk and make the arrangements.”

  After Christina settled in with Aaron across from Gina, she worked her computer terminal, accessing the account, and asked
about their wedding plans. Aaron made up a story about going to the Poconos to get married and then spending their honeymoon in France.

  Gina smiled at Christina. “I hope the weather improves. Is your wedding going to be inside?”

  Christina cut her eyes to Aaron for an instant, then looked back at the teller. “There isn’t going to be a wedding. Call the police.” She stood and began running for the door, her voice pitching higher as she again screamed for someone to call the police.

  A security guard came over as she got to the exit doors. “What’s going on here?”

  She turned, seeing Aaron running toward them. “That man is trying to steal my money. Stop him!”

  The security guard was reaching for his weapon as Christina heard a popping sound. She realized the guard had been shot. She looked over, seeing that Aaron had a gun. He moved the gun in her direction, then fired again. She ducked and fell to the ground as the bullets flew past, just missing her.

  When the firing stopped, Christina realized Aaron was at her side, grabbing her arm and pulling her through the door. “Stay with me and keep quiet, or you die.”

  Christina looked over as they moved through the double doors. There was a second man there, lying on the floor and bleeding from the barrage of bullets that Aaron had unleashed. She realized he must have been Aaron’s target, instead of her. In that moment, she realized something else: The man lying on the ground was her long-ago boyfriend, Jeremy Halsey.

  FORTY-SIX

  “Hey, there’s something on TV,” Max said to Amy and me the next morning after we’d finished breakfast. “I think it’s about that reporter you’re trying to find.”

  Amy and I went over to her. She turned up the volume, as the announcer said there had been a shooting at a bank in Manhattan.

  “According to our sources,” the reporter said, “a couple came into the bank wanting to withdraw funds. Some sort of dispute ensued. The bank’s security guard and a man entering the bank were shot and killed by the man wanting to withdraw the money. The couple, like a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde, then ran from the bank empty-handed. The woman has tentatively been identified as reporter Christina Blaze from our sister station WCNX. We don’t yet have an ID on the security guard or the man who was killed entering the bank.”

  As the announcer went on, Amy turned down the volume. “Geeze, why can’t I catch a break? Now my freaking client is a bank robber.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t actually a robbery, and she wasn’t a willing accomplice,” Max suggested. “It might be that the man she was with was her kidnapper and he was trying to get the money she had in the bank.”

  Amy was checking her phone. “Hey, I got a text from Christina’s mom. I’m gonna call her.”

  “While you’re doing that,” I said, “I’m going to call Sam. Since bank robbery is a federal crime, maybe he knows something.”

  I went into the bedroom and got Sam on the line. I told him what we’d learned from the news program, and he said something that shocked me.

  “The man entering the bank, who was shot and killed, was Jeremy Halsey. Wasn’t he the guy you told me about who was harassing that kid who died in college?”

  “That’s him. He was Christina Blaze’s former boyfriend. Do you think his death was accidental?”

  “From what the witnesses inside the bank told our investigators, the shooter specifically targeted Halsey after he shot the security guard. It might be that he was acting as a look-out at the doors, and Christina’s companion turned on him.”

  “Do the investigators know why Christina and the other man were in the bank?”

  “They told the teller they were engaged and planning to get married. Apparently, Christina has a trust fund that her uncle left her about three years ago. It’s worth a half-million dollars. They were planning to transfer the funds to another account when Christina panicked, began running, and told them to call the police.”

  “Meaning she was there under duress.”

  “It sounds like it.”

  “Did they get her companion’s name? Or the account where they wanted the funds transferred?”

  “Unfortunately, no. Christina interrupted things before the teller had a chance to ask.”

  I told him about our trip to Hoboken and what we’d found in Halsey’s apartment. “There was a notepad in the bedroom that had Christina’s name and the name of a boat called Dream Lover. It’s supposed to be moored at the Shipyard Marina. Amy and I went there, but the boat wasn’t in its slip. The slip at the Marina is rented to a guy named Aaron Benedict.”

  “He may very well be our shooter. I’ll pass the information along to the investigators. Our people are going to need to talk to Amy and you as part of the investigation.”

  “I’ll let Amy know. Right now, she’s in a bit of a panic over what happened, and she’s afraid she’ll lose her fee.”

  “I understand.” We went over what was known about the case, and Sam mentioned tomorrow night’s dinner plans.

  “I’ll pick you up about seven, if that works. I have reservations at Maestro’s at eight.”

  “That sounds perfect. See you then.”

  When I got back into the living room, I told Amy and Max what he’d said. Amy told us what Christina’s mother had told her.

  “Effie said Christina called her early this morning just to tell her that she’s okay. She said something about needing to take some time off to get away.”

  “Did she say anything about planning to withdraw money from the bank?” I asked.

  “Nothing.” She looked at Max. “I think you’re right. She was being forced to withdraw the money by her kidnapper.”

  “Sam’s theory is that Halsey was working with someone who turned on him,” I said. “The FBI investigators assigned to the case are going to need to talk to us.”

  “So what we gonna do now?” Max asked.

  “We need to find that Benedict asshole,” Amy said to me. “Let’s go back to the shipyard.”

  “I took a vacation day, so I’m free and can go with you guys.”

  “If we have time, we also need to try to track down Jonathan Raines,” I said, getting my coat off a chair. “Let’s roll.”

  FORTY-SEVEN

  As Max drove us to Hoboken, Amy got a call from one of the FBI agents involved in the shooting incident at Central National Bank. She arranged for us to meet with him late that afternoon.

  “We need to get this case wrapped up before the feds get involved,” Amy said, after ending the call. “You wanna put the f in fuwked, just call the feds.”

  “Hey, watch it,” I said. “Sam’s one of those feds.”

  “He’s the exception.” She smiled. “Maybe he did up the f in that word I just mentioned, if you get my drift.”

  I smiled. “Can’t say that I disagree.” I said to Max, “Do you and Sonny have plans for this weekend?”

  She nodded. “If I have my way, neither of us is gonna come up for air until Sunday night.”

  “Damn,” Amy said. “If my date with Chase ends up a disaster, I’m gonna track you guys down and get in bed with you.”

  “I doubt Sonny’s up for a threesome, so you’d better plan on Mads and Sam.”

  I laughed and looked at Amy. “The chances of that happening are about the same as that asteroid hitting the earth.”

  Amy sighed. “Looks like another weekend with Crusader Rabbit.”

  “Who?” Max asked.

  I answered. “Amy’s dildo. They’re on a first name basis.”

  When we got to the Shipyard Marina, we went to Berth 19 and saw that Dream Lover was docked there. It was a large, older boat that looked like it had an interior cabin. A couple FBI agents were standing guard on the dock.

  Amy went over and introduced us, explaining that we had knowledge about the case, and that Christina Blaze was her client.

  “I have orders to secure the location until our forensic people arrive,” the agent said. “I can’t let you onboard.”

 
“I got orders to tell you that you’re a royal pain in my ass,” Amy said, locking eyes with him.

  I pulled her away from the agent. “Let it go. They have an investigation to run.”

  We found the administrative office for the marina in a small office at the far end of one of the other docks. There was an older man, probably in his late sixties, in the office, who seemed oblivious to our presence as we said hello.

  After a couple more tries to get his attention, Hal, as the nametag on his faded blue shirt announced, finally looked up from his crossword puzzle. “I need a six-letter word that means ‘go hungry’.”

  “Starve,” Max said, surprising us. As the man scribbled the answer on his paper, she went on. “We need some information ‘bout someone who has a boat moored in Berth 19.”

  “Benedict,” he said, not looking up. “I heard there was some kind of commotion going on over there, but I’ve been too busy to stop by.”

  “So we can see,” Amy said.

  “Can you do us a favor and check on his paperwork?” I said. “See if he gave another address when he rented his boat slip?”

  Hal tossed his pen on the table, cupped his hands around both cheeks, and rocked his head slightly. “It’s a little early for this.”

  I looked at my friends, figuring he was asking for a tip. I pulled a twenty out of my purse. He slipped it into his pocket, then ambled off to a row of shelves filled with manila folders. After rummaging through the files, he came back over to the counter with a folder.

  “Aaron Benedict,” he said. “Gave an address over on Hutton.”

  He turned the file around, so that I could see the rental application that had been completed two years earlier. Benedict had used the first name Ara on the rental paperwork. I took a minute, thumbing through it and making a note of the address, but seeing nothing in the way of a reference Benedict had given.

  I pushed the file back in Hal’s direction. “Do you know if he was living on his boat?”

  “Not sure, but a lot of people here do. What’d he do?”