What Lies Beneath

Chapter 4

Olivia nearly groaned when she saw the mop of floppy brown hair sticking out from the clear half of the frosted glass wall. Unfortunately, chief Callaway had already spotted her, and since there was nothing beyond his office that she could use as an excuse, she saw no other alternative as to just face the situation.

“Morning chief, Detective Daniels.” She kept her eyes on the chief.

“How are you, Olivia?” Daniels turned in his seat to smile up at Olivia.

“Very well, thank you.” Without returning the sentiment, or even looking at him, she asked the chief, “I was wondering who we use for forensic accounting? I checked the list, but we don’t seem to have assigned forensic accountants.”

The chief chuckled. “New York might have them on staff, but we do not. We outsource it and if it’s something minor, we just use Detective Daniels here.”

“I’m sorry, sir?”

Daniels chimed in, “When I transferred here, I decided on a change. Accounting became a bit of a drag.” He grinned.

“Oh, I see.” Olivia silently cursed her luck. “Well then, I am sure you are far too busy keeping the streets clean.” Turning back to the chief, “Where do I find the details for the company we use?”

Daniels was the one to answer her, again. “I could make some time for you. It’s no problem.” Olivia could see the wheels turning in his head but swallowed the retort building up inside and plastered on her best smile. “Thank you, Detective Daniels. I appreciate it.”

Daniels got up and gestured for her to lead the way - probably to leer at her a*s. She needed the help. Beggars can’t be choosers.

When they reached her office, she sat down and motioned for him to take a chair but, he once again plopped his butt on her desk. “So what do you need to find out?”

“I need to investigate the account of the murder victim’s wife, I am almost positive that there was a life insurance policy paid out, I need to know where the funds had gone from there.”

He nodded “Seems basic enough, it should take me an hour tops.” He shrugged. “With the right information,” he qualified.

“What do you need?” she asked and handed him the file with all the details of Mr. and Mrs. Bolton and just prayed it’s enough to access their accounts.

He glanced at the cover sheet, looked inside for a minute and lifted an eyebrow. “I see.”

“What do you see?”

“You think the Missus did it for the money,” he claimed, not asked, claimed.

“There is a slight chance, yes. But that’s not what I think happened. Can you get into her account with that information?”

“I should be able to.” He regarded Olivia speculatively for a moment. “What do you think happened then?”

She didn’t like to assume, never had been productive for her. “I’d rather make sure before I make assumptions, Detective Daniels.”

He nodded his head once more and got his butt up from her desk, which she was grateful for. She was envisaging some sort of cactus with sharp spines to occupy the space his butt had grown such a fondness for. The thought nearly made her smile.

“I’ll get back to you before lunch.” He smiled as he made his way to the door before she could even thank him, and actually mean it, he went and reverted to the Daniels she avoids. “That way we could go grab some lunch. I know this really great place around the block that has delicious tacos. You look like a taco girl to me.” Before Olivia could decline, he was on his way upstairs. Seems like she would just have to duck out earlier for lunch today.

Olivia was expecting to see Daniels sitting on her desk waiting for her when she came sneaking around the corner well after lunch was over. She exhaled in relief when her office was empty. Well, almost. On her desk, where she had left him a note to explain that she had a lead to follow and could not join him for lunch, was the Bolton file and a paper bag.

For a good few seconds she stared at the paper bag, and she had to admit that she felt just a little bad for thinking so poorly of him. Maybe he is just a harmless flirt. She felt silly and more than a little vain, if she was honest. She picked up the file and the brown paper bag and headed upstairs to his office.

“Hi.” She knocked on his door. “Thanks for lunch.” Daniels looked up from his computer. Still standing in the doorway, she motioned for the chair. “May I?”

“Of course.” He smiled.

“Did you find anything?” she asked as she pulled the taco from the paper bag and unwrapped it–she had already eaten lunch but could manage a small taco still.

He nodded. “You were right there was a life insurance policy that paid out. Five-hundred thousand.”

Olivia’s eyebrows touched her hairline. “That’s a lot of money,” she said with a mouth full of taco.

“It is,” he agreed. “And with their pension, she would have had a very comfortable retirement.”

“Would have?”

“That policy payout was spent within the week.” Olivia thought as much.

“Could you see where it went?” She knew all the information was in the file, but she decided that she it was time to break old habits. In New York, her partner was the only person she really had a relationship with - she found it very difficult to connect with strangers. No, that’s was a lie. She found it very difficult to connect with people–period. Dan Sims had about fifteen years on Olivia, he was her mentor and sort of father figure. Julie Sims, his wife, had insisted that Olivia join them for dinner each Wednesday evening. It would fill Olivia with anxiety before every visit. Not because she didn’t enjoy the dinners, she really had enjoyed them, but she dreaded them because when she went home, she felt just a little darker than before. Seeing Dan and his wife together did not fill Olivia with hope for a future fragrant with love and family, instead, it would just remind her how lonely she really was.

“St James Memorial,” Daniels answered.

Olivia nodded and finished her taco - the pieces were falling together. “Thank you for your help.”

“Let me know how it goes,” he said sincerely.

Nodding, she got up with her file and taco wrapper and hesitated by the door. “You were right, by the way.”

“About what?” he mused

“These are fantastic tacos.”

Olivia took a deep breath as she dialed the number. It rang for a couple of minutes before the line connected. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Bolton?”

“Yes. May I help you?”

“This is Detective Pearson. I am the new cold case detective at NPD. I am handling your husband’s case.” The line went quiet, but the LED screen was still ticking down the seconds. She waited a few more seconds and heard Mrs. Bolton take a long, shuddering breath. “You are reopening the case.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” she sighed heavily. “That’s good,” she repeated.

“Will you be able to come to see me? I have a few questions.”

“Would you like me to come in today?”

“If that would be possible. Tomorrow is fine as well.” Olivia did not believe the aging Mrs. Bolton would make a run for it.

“I’ll be there in an hour.” And this time, the line went dead.

Olivia headed to reception to book an interview room and asked Gill to call her once Mrs. Bolton arrived.