Chapter 8

"Mr. Boyd, can you explain again why you were arrested?" Laura questioned. She was leaning against Remington's desk with her hands on either side of her for balance. Her ankles were crossed, and she studied her shoes while she waited for an answer.

Vic Boyd sighed loudly. "I told you… I broke into the gallery to get the cash from the safe. I heard from a guy this event was cash only, so I figured it would be a big score," he stated. "The guy was already dead when I got there. I didn't even see him on the floor until after I opened the safe," he insisted.

"Which is why your fingerprints were on the safe," Remington inserted.

"Right… you believe me, Max. Don't you?" Vic pleaded.

Laura raised her chin and leveled her eyes at Remington as she questioned, "Do you believe him?"

Remington leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers, and nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Steele. I believe Vic broke into the gallery to pilfer the coffers, so to speak, but no, I don't believe he killed anyone."

Laura uncrossed her ankles and asked, "Why do the police think you did it? Did you have any interaction with the deceased before?"

"Nah, it wasn't like that. Actually, that's why they let me out on bail because they really didn't have enough proof I did it. Only that one detective seemed pretty convinced it was me, and he told me he is going to try and prove it," Vic tossed his hand in the air, annoyed.

"Which detective is that?" Laura wondered, her mind mentally making notes.

Vic scratched his scruffy beard, "Janis... Joseph or something like that."

Remington immediately offered, "Jarvis?"

"Jackass is more like it," Vic confirmed. "He kept asking me the same question over and over and over. Then he'd pretend like he forgot the answer and ask me again. How does a man that incompetent even keep a job like that?"

Laura pushed off the desk and moved to stand beside her husband, "We are quite familiar with Detective Jarvis and his methods. He's actually very smart, but sometimes he doesn't see beyond what's right in front of him without a little help."

"Quite right, Mrs. Steele. Vic, is there anything else you can tell us? Anything you might've noticed?" Remington blinked.

Vic shook his head, "The money was already gone when I got the safe open."

Surprised, Remington responded, "It was?"

"Yeah. The police think I took the money before he even got it into the safe, but it wasn't, I swear," Vic insisted emphatically. "When I spun the dial, it was already unlocked. There was nothing but a few papers in the safe, and I didn't touch those."

Laura thought for a moment before she offered, "Mr. Boyd, how do we know… how does the police know… you didn't just take the money and hide it somewhere?"

Vic leaned forward and jerked his thumb in Laura's direction as he asked Remington, "Max, you sure she's with you?"

Remington laughed loudly and assured him, "Ah, yes, my wife doesn't always think beyond the issue at hand." He turned to Laura and stated, "What Vic is trying to point out is if he did, in fact, take the money, Detective Jarvis wouldn't have found him so easily."

"I'd be sitting on a sundrenched beach in the Caribbean, living the high life for a while," Vic added.

Laura folded her arms defensively and asked, "So how much money are we talking about then?"

"Lady, I'm not sure what Max has told you about me… but if I scored a half-mil, I wouldn't be living in the flophouse I'm in right now. You catch my drift?" Vic informed her before he inserted a stick of chewing gum in his mouth and chomped loudly.

"A half-mil? As in five hundred thousand?" Laura gasped.

Remington stood and patted her arm as he stepped around her and said, "Very good, Laura. You're beginning to get the hang of this. Maybe you should think about becoming a detective." As Laura glared at him angrily, he reached his hand out to Vic and assured him, "Let Mrs. Steele and I talk things over, and we'll have a chat with Detective Jarvis to see what he has to say."

"And then you'll get back to me?" Vic suggested, hopefully.

"Well, that depends on what Detective Jarvis has to say. Right, Mr. Steele?" Laura interjected angrily.

Remington glanced over at Laura, and based on the tight line of her lips, he knew she was suspicious of Victor Boyd. He took a breath and carefully replied, "We will weigh all the evidence as we see it, Vic, and get back to you as soon as we can." He held his hand out when Vic stood up and grasped his old friend's hand tightly. "Give us a day or two, and we'll get back to you."

Vic stood and scrutinized Remington's face, then Laura's stern one. "I'm trusting you can help me, Max. You've never let me down in the past," he pleaded.

Remington guided Vic to the door as he promised him, "I'll do my best. We'll be in touch." He watched Vic leave the office through the glass doors before he closed his office door and turned back to face Laura. The look on her face told him everything he needed to know. She was angry. He bit his bottom lip and shoved his hands in his pants pockets as he waited for her to unload on him with both barrels.

Laura stared at her husband and demanded, "Why did you just tell him we would help him?"

"I didn't say we would help him, Laura. I simply assured him we would talk to Jarvis and see what we could do," Remington corrected her.

"You really think he didn't do it?" she needed to know.

Remington shook his head, "No. I think he broke in there, just like he said, and found that poor man, dead on the floor. I know Vic. He's not a killer. A thief, yes. A killer… not in a million years." Laura rubbed her brow with two fingers. After several minutes, Remington questioned softly, "Head hurt? Could I get you some water? Aspirin?"

Laura folded her arms again and corrected him, "I can't take aspirin, remember?"

"Ah," he sighed. He took several steps forward and put his hands on her upper arms. "I'm telling you, Laura, Jarvis has the wrong man. Why do you think he couldn't hold him? He didn't have enough evidence, just like Vic said. So tomorrow morning, let's go down to police headquarters, have a conversation with Detective Jarvis, and see what he has to say."

Laura looked up into his soft blue eyes. She knew, just by the look on his face, he believed his friend was innocent. "Fine. Tomorrow morning we talk to Jarvis," she agreed. "But, if he has any proof," she paused when Remington's mouth dropped open, "any proof at all, we back off and allow the police to handle it. Agreed?"

Remington snapped his mouth closed and nodded. "I'm not wrong, Laura. I promise you I'm not wrong."

Laura slipped her arms around him and slid into his embrace. "I hope not," she whispered softly.