Thomas Scott - Voodoo Daddy

Sandy tilted her head slightly and said, “Something like that.”

“Well,” Amanda said with mock sincerity, “I love your little outfit. It’s so, so…”

“Yes?” Sandy said, her eyes blinking more than usual. It’s so what, exactly?”

“Well dear, it’s so, um, edgy I think is the word I’m looking for. Yes, that’s it. It’s so edgy I think I might be a little jealous. You’ve managed to capture just about every man’s attention here this morning. For example, that man you were seated next to just a moment ago. Do you know who that is?”

“It’s your party,” Sandy said. “Don’t you?”

“Of course I know, dear. I was just wondering if you did. He’s a very successful bond trader. Single too. In fact, don’t look, but he’s watching you right now. Would you like me to formally introduce the two of you?”

“We’ve already met, thank you,” Sandy said. “Speaking of attention, I think your husband is trying to get yours.” She looked at me, then said, “Detective Jones, could I speak with you for a moment?” Then to Amanda, “Can’t wait to see the show. I’ve heard it’s a hoot.”

Amanda looked at Sandy, then at me and walked away without saying anything more. Once she was gone I looked at Sandy and said, “hoot?”

She ignored me and waved at the bond trader.

“What was that all about?” she finally said.

“That,” I said, “was a master manipulator in action.”

“No kidding.” Then, a few seconds later, “What time are they coming?” She was still making eyes with the trader, or at the very least, letting him make eyes with her.

I looked at my watch. “In about thirty seconds. Donatti’s running this squad. Rosie’s at the Pate’s residence. Once they’re in, I want you to keep an eye on Amanda.”

“You got it, boss” she said, her head turned upward at me. I wanted to kiss her right then and there, and I might have, except a number of things happened almost simultaneously. Samuel Pate picked up a spoon and tapped it against the side of a water goblet and said, “Excuse me everyone, if you’ll take a seat please, we’re ready to-”

At the exact same time, Donatti and ten uniformed State Troopers came through the front doors of the lobby. Donatti shouted, “Police! Search warrant! Nobody move. Everyone stay right where you are and keep your hands where I can see them.”

I moved toward Pate. The bond trader who had been flirting with Sandy saw me coming, stood up to get out of the way and tripped backwards over the row of chairs behind him. I saw Amanda try to duck behind the drapery out of sight, but Sandy wrapped her arms around her and tackled her to the ground. The drapery and support rods got tangled up in their struggle and fell over the buffet table, then the table and everything on it crashed to the ground as well. People were screaming and trying to get away from the commotion by the buffet and Donatti was still yelling for no one to move. I pointed a finger at Samuel Pate, told him not to move, then ran over to where Sandy was still struggling with Amanda. I yanked the drapery free from the top of them both, then held her down while Sandy got up.

Sandy and I stood up, my foot stationed in the middle of Amanda’s back to hold her in place. Samuel Pate walked across the room knocking chairs aside with his crutches as he approached. I noticed his ability to move about was better than it had been in our previous meetings and I suspected the crutches, while obviously necessary to a certain extent, were just as much stage props as they were an aid to his mobility. “What in God’s name is going on here?” he said, his voice coarse with anger. “Will you take your foot off of my wife’s back please? Why are the police here?”

Sandy was still brushing herself off and straightening her dress. I held her by her upper arm and she had her hand on my own for support. “Step back please, Reverend,” I said. “I’ll speak with you in a moment.”

But he either did not hear me, or simply refused to listen amid the chaos of the events as they unfolded around him. He stepped closer and put his crutch against my hip, forcing me to remove my foot from Amanda’s back or lose my balance. “Step away from my wife, Detective. I insist you tell me-”

I let go of Sandy and used my own momentum against him. I grabbed the still extended crutch and pinched it under my arm, swept his legs out from under him and had him on the ground before he knew what had happened. I yanked the crutch from his right arm and pinned his hands behind his back. His arms felt like tree limbs under his shirt, and I had the impression he could toss me aside if he wanted to. I also felt like he knew it as well. I looked over at Donatti who ran toward me and placed his handcuffs around Pate’s wrists. I leaned down and whispered into Pate’s ear. “You ever place your cane against my person again I’ll show you the other end of it. I’ve got the resume, sir, believe me.”

“Release my husband this instant,” Amanda shouted at me as she stood up. “For God’s sake, Jonesy, he’s disabled. You’ve got a crippled man on the ground in handcuffs on his own property. What’s the matter with you? I demand to know what’s going on here,” she said. Why are all these police officers here?” She stomped her foot, her hands balled into fists at her side as she spoke.

I reached into my pocket, pulled out the search warrant and handed it to her. “We have a warrant to search the premises, Amanda.” Then to Donatti. “Have your men take the file cabinets and everything in the desk drawers. You brought trucks and dollies?”

“We’re good to go, boss,” Donatti said.

“Alright, get started then. Get the computers, too. They probably have a central server somewhere. A closet, or a small office. Don’t miss that.”

Pate mumbled something I couldn’t quite catch. “What was that,” I said.

“It’s in the basement,” he said. “The door at the end of the hall.”

I looked at him for a moment. He lay on his side on the floor to accommodate the handcuffs. Then he lifted his head and smiled at me. “I’ve nothing to hide, Detective. Nothing at all. You’ll see. Then you and I, well, we’ll talk again, I suspect.”

I ignored his comments and nodded to Donatti who motioned for the other officers. They wheeled the dollies in and moved toward the offices. I looked at Amanda. Tears were running down her cheeks. She held the warrant in her hand, down by her side. “Read the warrant, Amanda. It gives us permission to search and seize anything in this building. Your house as well.”

Her head snapped up, the whites of her eyes veined with red streaks at the corners. “What? My house? You’re going to search my house?’

“Not going to, Amanda. Are. We’ve got a team there right now as well.”

“You bastard,” she said. “If you think I’m going to let you get away with this you’re mistaken,” she said, her finger pointed at me like she was admonishing a child. “I’ll have your badge for this, Virgil Jones. You watch and see. You think we don’t have any influence in this town?”

Samuel Pate looked at his wife and said, “Amanda, go home. Please, you’re not helping.”

“But Samuel, can’t you see what they’re trying to do to us? We can’t just let-”

“Amanda, I said go home. Keep your wits about you and get to the house and make sure they conduct their search in a respectful manner, then call Everett. Tell him what’s happened and have him meet me downtown. Can you do that for me, Amanda? Detective, is she free to go?”

I nodded. Amanda looked at me, the veins on the sides of her neck still bulging with anger. “This isn’t over, Jonesy. Not even close.” But I did not hear the rest of what she said.