Dale,
I hate impersonal letters like this, but for the last little while you haven’t been around long enough for us to talk. I think we need some time apart. Sammy and I will be staying at Catherine’s place until we figure things out.
We both know this isn’t working. I knew who I was marrying. You’re a cop and a great one, but you’ve changed over the years. Now that we have a son you need to adjust your priorities with work and family.
I want to say that your job is the only problem, but it’s not…and we both know where I’m going. I know I said I’d gotten over your infidelity—that I had put it behind me and moved on. But the truth is that the thought still lingers. Every time you come home late, I wonder if you were with HER. I just can’t live like this anymore.
I still love you and hope we can work this out. I want the Dale I fell in love with and married.
Love,
Betty and Sammie
Dale felt numb.
As he reread the note, he felt a sudden, crushing exhaustion and was brought to a complete halt. How tired he was from too many years on the job, the stress of work and his marital problems.
His throat tightened and he was having trouble breathing. Then Dale did something that he hadn’t done in a long time. He cried.
He removed the snuff in his mouth and put it on the bedside table. He lay down and fell asleep, his head on Betty’s pillow.
Chapter 33
From his conversation with Whitney, Calvin had at least a rough description of his follower, unless he’d already changed his appearance, and he began to watch the video monitors around his fortress all the time.
Did this guy have his own reasons for wanting to kill Calvin or had he been hired to take Calvin out?
Calvin knew the more networks he reached out to, the greater possibility of finding his opponent. So, with Rachel surfing the net, he decided to try Gene Lockhart, a forty-one-year-old bachelor with a gambling problem. Lockhart was also a pit boss at the Golden Horseshoe Casino and someone Calvin had grown to trust. He had collected from him years ago and could get him fired at any time. But Lockhart somehow had convinced him that he would get over his addiction and he had kept the secret. True to his word, Lockhart had been clean since. Lockhart had introduced Calvin and Rachel, so each man was indebted to one another, even though Calvin held all the real cards.
Lockhart knew the streets and had major contacts.
“What?” a sleepy voice barked into the phone.
“Geno, it’s me.”
“Cal? What do you need?”
Calvin knew the sound of his voice had roused his friend. “I need some answers.”
“Sure. Is this about your situation?”
“Afraid so.”
Both were silent a moment.
“I’ll tell you anything you need to know, if I can.”
“Great. I need some information on your boss.”
“He’s a popular guy lately.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, just the other day the police came by asking about Ace.”
“About the Grant murder?” Calvin hadn’t seen Sanders’ name in any “suspect” report.
“Of course.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Most of this crew is scared to death of Sanders and I know the execs and employees at the Midas are too.”
Calvin sat back in his chair. Why had he thought he’d get information?
“But for you, I’ll talk. I know you had nothin’ to do with this and I owe ya.”
He was back in business. “Thanks, Geno. I appreciate that. Now, talk to me. Tell me anything you’ve seen out of the ordinary or anything you might have overheard.”
“Sanders is a very private businessman. He shares almost nothing with anyone. I know he was mixed up with Pitt. But you probably know that. Sanders was said to be sleeping around with Linda Grant, but that wouldn’t be the first marriage he’d broken up. I wish I could help you more, Cal.”
“This isn’t anything I don’t already know. I need to prove that someone else committed these murders, but so far, I can’t do that. I need something to take to the cops.”
Lockhart’s voice changed. “I might not have proof, but I can tell you this. Sanders is evil and capable of killing.”
“How do you know?”
“Nothing you can use. But remember I told you about that young couple we caught counting cards at the Black Jack table two years ago?”
“I remember.”
“They’ll never cheat again.”
At least Calvin had his thought confirmed by a reliable source. He remained silent.
“Okay, there is one thing. You can’t say who told you because I didn’t tell the police. On the nights of Grant’s and Pitt’s murders, Sanders wasn’t in his office. The first night I saw for myself that he was gone. On the night that Pitt was killed, same thing. But I could’ve sworn that I remember seeing his Ferrari parked in his private spot. I talked to my friend at the Midas and he told me that Sanders wasn’t in his office there on either night.”
Now Calvin knew that Sanders could make the entire staff at the Golden Horseshoe and the Midas lie to the cops. Next, he gave Lockhart the description of the hit man.
“Sorry, Cal, haven’t seen anyone like that. I’ll ask around and get back to ya.”
“Thanks, Geno. That would be great.”
The two men said goodbye.
Sanders could have done it and could have hushed everyone up.
Dale woke with red, swollen eyes, a rotten taste in his mouth and dried tobacco juice on his chin. He noticed juice stains on the collar of his dress shirt and changed into a new one.
As he tied his tie, the mirror showed him pronounced lines around his mouth and eyes for the first time.
Cops’ wives walked out all the time, but how could he have missed seeing it coming?
He knew that his marriage had serious problems that he had not prioritized or tried to resolve with Betty. He had dedicated himself and almost all of his time to his job instead. Even so, he couldn’t believe that it had come to this. He had just assumed that Betty would give him more time to work things out. He and his wife were now physically separated. The two people who mattered the most to him were hundreds of miles away.
Dale checked his watch. He had slept for almost two hours. Now Jimmy would wonder what kept him—and ask.
He went through the rooms and remembered the clothes and the other items they had taken. He felt like he was emptied, not just the house. But the nap had cleared his head a bit…at least enough to push forward. He’d feel better getting back to work.
His cell rang.
“Dayton.”
“Dale, it’s Jimmy. Where the hell are you, man?”
“At home.”
“Somethin’s come up. You better get your ass over here now. I’m on my way to pick you up.”
Dale shut the phone off, finished tying his tie and hurried down the stairs.
It had been four and a half days since they’d left. That seemed to him enough time for Betty to collect her thoughts. Maybe she would be ready to talk.
He dialed Betty’s cell phone number, but it went straight to voice mail. He’d try her sister Catherine.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Catherine, it’s Dale. Can I speak to Betty?”
He could hear his sister-in-law talking in the background before she came back on the line. “I’m sorry, Dale. Betty isn’t ready yet. Maybe in a couple of days.”
He appreciated the apologetic tone.
“Okay, thank you, Catherine. Please tell Betty I love and miss her. And give Sammie a big kiss and tell him the same.”