Jonathan Kellerman - Guilt

Jack Weathers said, “They’re the police.”

Daisy Weathers said, “Hi, boys. Collecting for the law enforcement ball? We give every year.” Sultry voice. She winked.

Milo said, “Not exactly, ma’am.”

Jack Weathers said, “They don’t send guys in suits for the ball, Daze. They send kids-scouts, cadets, whatever you call ’em.”

Daisy Weathers said, “Cute kids, they’re making ’em bigger nowadays. What can we do for you boys?”

Milo said, “We’d like to talk about Adriana Betts.”

She looked puzzled. “Well, I can’t say I know who that is.”

Jack Weathers’s face darkened. A fist punched a palm. “ Knew it-it was one of you who called earlier, right? If you’d left a number, I’d have called you back.”

I said, “Got cut off, couldn’t get through after that.”

His eyes danced to the right. “Well, I don’t know about that. Our phones are working fine.”

Daisy said, “Jack, what’s going on?”

“All they had to do was call, this really isn’t necessary.”

“He says he did.”

“Well, all he had to do was try again.” Maybe Weathers was usually truthful, because lying didn’t sit well with him. I counted at least three tells in as many seconds: lip-gnaw, brow-twitch, foot-tap. Then his eyes got jumpy.

“Anyway,” I said, “we’re here, so no harm, no foul.”

Milo moved toward the doorway. Jack Weathers considered his options and stepped aside.

Daisy Weathers said, “What was that name, boys?”

Milo said, “Adriana Betts.”

“Is that someone I’m supposed to know, Jack?”

The eyes turned into pinballs.

She touched his wrist. He jerked reflexively.

“Jackie? What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, baby.”

I said, “So she did work for you.”

“No one works for us,” said Jack Weathers. “We’re facilitators.”

“Ja-ack-ee?” said his wife. “Again?”

Weathers looked away.

“Jack!”

“No big deal, Daze.”

“Obviously it is a big deal if the police are here.”

He cursed under his breath.

She said, “You boys better come in and straighten this out.”

The single-room office was furnished with two cheap desks and three hard-plastic chairs. The walls were hospital-beige and bare. A lone window half covered by warped plastic blinds looked out to an alley and the brick wall of the neighboring building. One desk was set up with a multi-line phone, a modem, a computer, a printer, and a fax machine. The other held a collection of bisque figurines-slender, white-wigged court figures engaged in spirited nonsense. Daisy Weathers took a seat behind the porcelain and lifted a lute-playing lady in a ball gown. One of her six rings clinked against the doll. Her husband winced.

Then he slipped behind the bank of business machines and eased his long body as low as he could manage.

Milo said, “Tell us about Adriana Betts.”

Daisy said, “Yes, do, dear.”

Jack said, “She came with good recommendations.”

“Did you do the screening, Jackie?”

“It was an urgent one, Daze.”

She slapped her forehead. “Bending rules. What a shock.” To us: “My sweetie pie, here, has a heart softer than a ripe persimmon.” That sounded like a line from a movie.

Jack said, “Someone comes to me in need, I try to help.”

“He really does, boys. I wish I could get mad at him but you need to know him, he’s a people-pleaser.”

Milo said, “What kind of screening do you usually do?”

“Comprehensive screening,” said Jack. “Just what you do.”

“What we do?”

“Er … what I’m sure you do when you hire police officers.” Weathers’s smile was a pathetic grope for rapport. “To ensure the best fit, right? Everyone knows BHPD’s the best.”

“I’ll pass that along to them,” said Milo. “Actually, I’m LAPD.”

“Oh,” said Jack Weathers. “Well, I’m sure the same applies to you, we used to live in Los Angeles. Hancock Park, lovely, we had a gorgeous Colonial with a half-acre garden, the police were always helpful.”

“Great to hear that, sir. So with Adriana Betts you decided to forgo the usual screening.”

Daisy let out a prolonged sigh. Jack shot her a look that could’ve been a warning. Or fear.

“As I said, there was urgency.”

I said, “Someone was in need.”

“That’s what we do,” said Jack. “We fill needs.”

“In Ms. Betts’s case, child-care needs?”

He didn’t answer.

Daisy said, “No matter who you are, finding the right people is always a challenge.”

I faced Jack. “Meaning someone important. Who’d you send Adriana to?”

He shook his head.

Milo said, “Sir?”

Jack Weathers said, “What exactly are you claiming happened? Because I absolutely refuse to believe it was anything serious. I pride myself on being an excellent judge of character and that young lady had obviously fine character. She was religious , had a letter from her pastor.”

Milo pulled out one of Qeesha’s mug shots. “What about this young lady?”

Daisy blurted, “Her?”

Jack tried to hiss her silent.

She said, “I’m really at sea over this. Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”

Jack folded his arms across his chest.

Milo said, “You’d placed Qeesha D’Embo where you sent Adriana.”

Silence.

I said, “Qeesha vouched for Adriana. That’s why you didn’t feel the need to screen her.”

Daisy said, “Normally, we’d still screen. But if it was urgent-”

“They get it,” said her husband.

She pouted. “Jackie?”

“We’re not saying anything more, gentlemen. Not without advice of counsel.”

Milo said, “You want a lawyer to answer routine questions?”

“You bet.”

Daisy put the figurine down. No visible tremor but the base rattled on the desktop.

Milo said, “You’re not being accused of any crime, Mr. Weathers.”

“Even so,” said Jack.

“You didn’t screen Adriana but you did screen Qeesha.”

Daisy said, “I’ve never heard of Qeesha, we knew her by another name-what was it again, Jackie?”

Weathers shook his head, drew his finger across his lip.

“She’s a beautiful girl,” said Daisy. “The way those black girls can be with their big dark eyes. What was her name … something with an ‘S,’ I believe, I’d have to check the-”

“Shut up , Daze!”

Daisy Weathers stared at her husband. One hand bounced on her desktop. The other rose to her face, pinched cheek-skin, twisted. Her eyes turned wet.

Jack Weathers said, “Oh, baby.”

Daisy sniffled.

He turned to us. “Now look what you’ve done-I need you to leave.”

Standing, he pointed to the door.

Milo said, “Suit yourself, Mr. Weathers,” and got up. “But here’s what puzzles me. You run a business based on the ability to judge character. You said before that whatever happened to Adriana wasn’t a big deal because she was a woman of good character. But from what I can tell, you’re only batting five hundred, sir. Good for baseball, not so good for job placement.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You were right about one thing, wrong about the other. Yes, Adriana seems to have been a woman of excellent character. But what happened was a really big deal.”

“What happened?” Weathers demanded.

“Your lawyer can tell you. After we return with your friends at BHPD armed with a search warrant for all of your records.”

“That’s impossible!” Weathers shouted.

“Jack?” said Daisy.

“It’s not only possible,” said Milo, “it’s probable.”