Robert Tanenbaum - Malice

However, all the reports about Karp and O'Toole's brother being roommates had checked out. And, he'd pointed out to Kellagh, the case against O'Toole had been in the works long before Karp entered the picture. "I know it's weird," he said. "But it's purely coincidence, and he's shown no interest in our friends out at the Unified Church."

There was more at stake than just keeping Big John Porter and Little Rufus happy and in line. Barnhill had another mission and that had more to do with his position as the university's attorney. He'd been handed the position at the university and told to find a way to force Huttington into allowing the Unified Church and also his employers to launder large amounts of money through university investment funds. All universities invested in the stock market, bonds, and mutual funds, and nobody ever checked their records, especially at some small university in Podunk, Idaho.

The University of Northwest Idaho had also been selected because of its small but renowned Department of Computer Sciences, which had one of the most powerful mainframe Cray computers in the world. His employers had been quite successful at placing their own people within the department. And while he wasn't privy to what they did there, he'd been told that the computer was a match for anything the U.S. government, or anyone else, had at their disposal.

It had not taken much of an effort to find something to hold over Huttington. The man was a sex addict who had seducing coeds down to an art form. A private investigator had supplied plenty of photographs of the university president and several of his conquests, and Barnhill was about to blackmail him with a threat to go to his wife when Huttington got the little Basque bitch pregnant.

Barnhill had hardly been able to believe his luck when Huttington broke down in his office and started crying that he just had to help him. The girl had threatened to go to the Board of Regents and file a lawsuit. His wife would leave him, and he'd lose his job and never find work at a university or college again.

Oh, boo-hoo-hoo, Barnhill had thought back then as Huttington sniffled and sobbed. The whimpering coward would have kissed his ass if he'd told him to after promising to help. "You do know that this isn't a game," he'd warned Huttington. "The girl is going to have to…disappear, or you're always going to have that hanging over your head. Can't afford to have her show up in a couple of years with a child that looks like Kip, now, can we?"

"Anything, anything," Huttington pleaded.

"Good," Barnhill replied. "Now, leave the keys to your car with me. You can take my sedan back home, and we'll get you a new ride tomorrow."

"My car? Why?" Huttington said.

"Do you really want to know the answer to that?" Barnhill replied.

Huttington shook his head and sobbed. "Oh God, I'm so sorry."

"Quit sniveling, Kip, and pull yourself together," Barnhill sneered. "Find a pay phone on the way home and call the girl. Tell her you love her and want to see her early tomorrow morning, six a.m., at the overlook out on Saddle Mountain Road. Don't use your home phone-that can be traced. Understand?"

Huttington nodded and placed his keys on Barnhill's desk. The attorney tossed him his. "Now, remember, pay phone, six a.m., far parking lot, you'll be there waiting for her in your car," he said. "Now go home, get some sleep, and come to work tomorrow as if nothing has happened. Oh, and never, ever say anything about this to anyone."

The next morning, Maria Santacristina had showed up on time, only to be forced into the trunk of the Cadillac and taken for one last ride. A few days later, he'd laid out the bill to Huttington, who'd initially balked until he saw the photograph of the Cadillac emailed to him by the Reverend Hamm.

After that, Huttington had been as compliant as a two-dollar whore. He'd given Barnhill's employers the keys to the car, so to speak. Then when Rufus Porter raped a girl and needed help, Huttington himself had gone to the university police station at night, let himself in with his master key, and absconded with the evidence. And he hadn't protested the plan to get rid of Mikey O'Toole so that Big John's kid could live out his baseball fantasy.

Hamm's photograph had come in handy a second time to chase Maly Laska off. In hindsight, the university president probably should have just shown it to her instead of sending it to her as an email attachment. But even if the girl kept a copy, which was doubtful the way she up and left in the night, no one would be able to trace it back to Huttington or Hamm.

It was the perfect murder and blackmail. Except the girl's father had not let it go and seized on Huttington as the only suspect. Nor had he backed off despite threats. Then Marlene Ciampi and Karp had stepped in and started making life difficult.

Thinking about the photograph as Zook ushered them into his office and shut the door reminded Barnhill that he had not been able to raise anybody at the Unified Church all day. The phones were dead and there was no service for cell phones.

Zook sat down at his desk and indicated they should sit at the two chairs that faced the desk. "So what can I do for you, gentlemen?"

Barnhill's smirk disappeared from his face. "What do you mean?"

"Why are we here?"

"What the fuck, Zook," Barnhill growled. "Kip here got a call this morning from Marlene Ciampi, who told him to meet you here or else. To be honest, I'm thinking about filing a harassment complaint. It's obviously because her husband is losing the lawsuit and she's trying to intimidate Kip somehow, which may also constitute witness tampering."

"Really? And what did she say?" Zook asked innocently, looking at Huttington.

"Her message was very short," Huttington replied. He nervously accepted a glass of water the district attorney poured for him from a pitcher on his desk. "She said, 'We found your car,' and that I better show up at your office or else."

"So you thought that it was important to show up?" Zook inquired.

"Well, to be honest, I found her demeanor to be-"

"Threatening," Barnhill said, finishing the sentence for him. "This woman has a reputation back in New York for violence. Check it out. She gets away with it because her husband is the district attorney. But that's not the point. Are you telling me that you don't know what this is about?"

Zook looked surprised. "Oh no, I know what this is all about. I was just listening."

"So?" Barnhill said, exasperated.

"So what?"

"SO WHAT IN THE HELL IS THIS ALL ABOUT?" Barnhill roared.

"Whoa, Clyde, no need to yell," Zook replied quietly. "What this is about is that I am charging Mr. Huttington with two counts of murder in the first degree, kidnapping, and, just because I can, improper disposal of an automobile. Oh, and I'm charging you with most of those, too."

Huttington staggered to his feet, rushed over to a trash can in the corner of the office, and vomited. Barnhill just sat in his chair, scowling and shouting, "WHAT! WHAT! WHAT!"

"What? You want to know what, you slimeball," Marlene sneered as she walked into the office, followed by two Idaho state troopers. She spotted Huttington and walked up to him, holding up the photograph of Maria's impending murder.

"We found her, 'Kip,' you piece of shit." Marlene practically spat the words in his face as he tried to duck away from her. "Just in case they didn't fill you in on the grisly details, they buried her alive in your car. But we found her. We dug her up along with the Cadillac you reported stolen. Want to know how that's going to play to a jury, Kip? Do you? What's the method of execution in Idaho, Dan?"

"Lethal injection," Zook replied.

"Oooh, good one," Marlene said with a smile as she walked over to toss the photograph on the desk in front of Barnhill, who glanced at it and looked quickly away.