Hot Wives Investment Club Ch. 05

The chronological order of my stories is as follows:

Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10, The Murdered Football Player Series, Case of the Black Widow series, Teresa's Christmas Story, The Case of the Black Badge series, A Case of Revenge series, Teresa's Summer Race, The Trilogy series, Dark Side Of The Force series, Caught In The Act series, Case of the Murdered Bride series, The Credit Card Caper series.

The Hot Wives Investment Club, Ch. 1-5.

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, extreme language, and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial or racist language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

Part 16 - Please To Remember...

"Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.

Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t'was his intent

To blow up King and Parli'ment.
Three-score barrels of powder below
To prove old England's overthrow;

By God's providence he was catch'd

With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!"

I would have great reason to remember Guy Fawkes Day, but due to a much happier occasion.

I got to the hospital to find Cindy in the waiting room. Laura was changing into scrubs, exercising her privileges of being on Staff at the hospital to help with what was about to happen.

"They took her into the delivery room." Cindy said. "They wouldn't let me go in with her since I'm not the father. I called our parents. They're still in Canada; we weren't expecting this for another week or two."

"I hear you. I'll stay here with you, then, being the father notwithstanding." I said. We waited, watching the late night coverage of the election on the TV, talking about what had happened in the State Senate race. At 2:45 am, Laura came out to see us.

"Congratulations, it's a boy!" she said. "He came out about 15 minutes ago. Mother and son are doing very well. Let them finish their initial work and put Molly in a room, and you both can go in and see them."

It was another hour, but once we got into the room we saw a very happy Molly holding her newborn baby, who was wrapped in a light blue swaddling cloth and wearing a blue toboggan cap on his little head. Molly was going to hand my new son to me, but I suggested she let Cindy hold her new nephew first. Cindy was near tears herself as she held the baby. I kissed Molly as I congratulated her and she congratulated me back.

"So, what is his name?" I asked.

"I was thinking about that." Molly said. "He sure as hell is not going to be named 'Evans'." Molly was referring to her married name, and though she hadn't dropped it, she still didn't think enough of her ex-husband to grant that name to her child. "So I was thinking his last name would be 'Troy', if you're okay with that, Don."

"Okay?" I said, "It's more than 'okay'; I'd be honored!"

"Good!" said Molly, grinning, "since I already put it on the birth certificate. His first name is Ross, and our mother's maiden name is McAlister. How does 'Ross McAlister Troy' sound?"

"Sounds very Irish to me. He'll fit right in at the Cop Bar." I said as Cindy handed little Ross to me. He was a good-looking, blue-eyed redhead like his daddy, and I felt the same emotion of holding him as I'd felt when holding baby Jim after he'd been born.

"What, can't name a male child 'Cindy'?" Cindy Ross said, teasing. "Seriously, it sounds good. I called Mom and Dad, they're probably preparing to come down now."

"I called them, too, as soon as I was put into the room." Molly said. "They're going to meet me in Midtown after I'm released from the hospital here."

"Whaaa---" Cindy said, obviously shocked by the news.

"I told them to come here." Molly said, her face a look of resignation. "But they insisted on going there, saying I had a guest room for them there, and they can see the new house as well as the new baby."

"Like The Cabin is too small for them?" I asked. The look in Molly's eyes as she glanced at me told me everything.

"Well!" Cindy said. "Congratulations, Molly, he's a beautiful boy. I'll step outside and leave you two alone with him." Before either of us could stop her, Cindy fled the room.

"Hoo boy." I said.

"Yep, you understand." Molly said. Just then the beautiful black woman Nurse Jones came into the room with other hospital staff.


"Okay, Commander," Nurse Jones said, "you know the drill by now. Tests to run, mother and son need sleep, you probably need some, too."

"Yes, I do know the drill, happily enough." I said. I handed the baby to the other nurse, who took him over to take more body measurements. I kissed Molly and told her I'd visit later that day, after solving the Donolan murder once and for all, then left the room.

I found Cindy in the waiting room, with Laura comforting her. I sat down on my partner's other side. "You okay?" I asked.

"I guess." Cindy said said, as Laura excused herself. "They're not coming here because they don't want to meet Jenna, aren't they? And I thought... after they came down after I got shot, that everything was better."

"Well," I said, "I'm not going to try to speak to their intent. I think they don't really want to see me either. They're devout, practicing Catholics, aren't they?" Cindy nodded, and I said "Well, I'm sure they're going to love their grandson, but their daughter having a bastard child by a married man probably isn't going over too well with them, either."

"Nice try." Cindy said, refusing to be mollified (pun not intended). "But we all know they don't want me introducing my new girlfriend to them. Why can't they just accept me as I am?"

"They do, and they showed it when they came down here while you were in the hospital last summer. They love you, and they love you for who you are as an individual and as their daughter. But they're not ready for your girlfriend. I replied, knowing that I was probably the only person in the world who could tell Cindy this truth without being ripped apart, and it was my duty to do so. "You want them to accept you as you are, but you have to meet them halfway and accept them for what they are... as not ready to handle you being a lesbian. You want them to change, they want you to change, and neither of you are going to change."

"You're right." Cindy said. "It still hurts, though."

Just then Teresa Croyle bounded into the room. "Hey, congratulations!" she said, about as happy as I'd seen Teresa possibly be. I took the opportunity to excuse myself, letting Cindy explain to, and be comforted by, her friend.

Part 17 - An Interdicted Arrest

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" blared the lovely but tired-looking reporterette. "After a hotly contested election, Katherine Woodburn has been declared the winner of the State Senate race. TEA Party candidate John Cummings not only is refusing to concede, he is demanding a recount and his campaign is already preparing lawsuits over the results."

"However, their appeal of Judge Harry Nance's decision to let heavily Democrat districts, and those districts only, be left open has been flatly denied by the Appellate Court, and the Federal Court refuses to accept the case because the County and State Republican Parties refuse to join the lawsuits. The Republicans have brutally betrayed Mr. Cummings, leaving the Republican candidate as well as many citizens deeply angry at the seeming collusion between the Republican and Democrat Parties in installing Katherine Woodburn as the 1st District State Senator."

As a ranking Police Officer, I thought to myself, I had an obligation to outwardly be a political atheist... but right now I was disgusted with both political parties and the whole election process, especially seeing that it was the Republicans doing all they could to defeat Conservatives. With 'friends' like the Republicans, who needs enemies? I thought to myself. Sheesh.

Oh well, enough on politics. Time to get my ass in gear and bring Justice on behalf of the late Trish Donolan...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At 10:00am, I arrived at River Valley Country Club, with FBI Special Agent in Charge Jack Muscone, FBI Special Agent Eduardo Escobar, Sergeant Rudistan, Senior Patrolman Morton, and Patrol Officers Johnson and Inga Gunddottar.

"We've got the Federal warrant." Jack Muscone had said at Headquarters earlier that morning. "After you had us check Trey Lundquist's fingerprints, we found that he has some outstanding warrants for his arrest in Florida. He's accused of wire fraud, mail fraud and money laundering across State lines. He previously was arrested and is on probation for impersonating a police officer in Florida."

"He's got an even more serious charge now, for which I have a local warrant." I said. "Aiding and abetting first degree murder. Think the U.S. Attorney will let us cut a deal if he hands us the murderer of Trish Donolan?"

"Maybe." said Muscone. "Lundquist is pretty small potatoes as far as the FBI is concerned. Unless, of course, we find new connections to whatever you think is going on in your County here."

"That could well be." I said. "Let's get him into custody now, and we'll worry about all that shit later."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Mr. Lundquist," said the Club staffer at the door to the Manager's office, "the Police are pulling into the parking lot. Several cars."

"Thank you, Carlotta." said Lundquist. He quickly opened the fountain pen on it's little commemorative plaque and took out a little glass capsule. He then put that glass capsule deep inside his mouth, between his cheek and back teeth.

I entered the Country Club, brushing by the staffer as she attempted to run interference by coming up to us asking how she could be of service. I barged straight into the Manager's office.

"Trey Lundquist, please keep your hands where I can see them." I said to the manager, who was sitting behind his desk. I had a red crowbar in my hands, ready for use. My officers and the FBI agents were prepared to draw their guns, if needed.

Lundquist put his empty hands on the desk where I could see them. I could see nothing else amiss in the room, though the fountain pen at front looked to be at an odd angle to its holder. "What can I do for you, Officers?" Lundquist asked.

"You are under arrest," I said. "For aiding and abetting the murderer of Trish Donolan, and helping hide the murder weapon."

"You've gotta be kidding." said Lundquist.

"The Commander has forgotten to mention my outstanding Federal warrants." Special Agent Muscone said. "Seems you've had an active career in Florida."

"But aiding and abetting murder? Are you out of your tree?" said Lundquist, pretending uncomprehending shock. I could tell in his eyes that he was busted and he knew it, though.

"Not at all." I said. "Pretending the master key was stolen was my first clue in your direction. You were the only one who could've manipulated the camera and the tapes so that you weren't seen going to the janitor closet and securing the plastic bag full of Tyvex suit and the murder weapon. Then you threw it back above the ceiling tiles later that night."

"Hell, you can't prove a word of that." Lundquist bluffed.

"Yet I was able to get a warrant, which is 80% of the battle." I said. "And when we arrest the murderer herself, she's going to throw you under the bus. You've only got one chance, Trey... tell me, who hired you to assist the murderer?"

"If I told you that, I'd die anyway." said Lundquist. I failed to catch the meaning of his words.

"Maybe, but I'll just turn you over to the FBI." I said, bluffing. "They'll interrogate you much more... thoroughly than I'd be permitted to. They'll get the truth out of you."

"Sounds like I'm a dead man, all the way around." said Lundquist. "Congratulations, Commander. You're every bit as dangerous as my employer said you'd be."

"Stop him!" I shouted I saw Lundquist's tongue moving inside his cheek... but it was too late. He bit down and a heavy, pungent smell of almonds permeated the room as foam began spewing from his mouth. The fat man gurgled and fell back. Within seconds he would be dead.

"Cyanide!" said Jack Muscone, who had rushed forward to try to stop him, but was too late.

"God damn it!" I screamed. I grabbed the fountain pen, which separated from itself, having only been loosely put back together, then threw the parts onto the floor in utter disgust with myself. "Fuck me! I saw this when I came in, I should have known!"

"It was in his mouth already, Commander." said Sergeant Rudistan perceptively. "No way you could've stopped it." There was general agreement, and I pretended to allow myself to be mollified. I was still pissed at myself.

"All right." I said. "Call the fucking morgue to come get this shit eater."

"What now?" asked Muscone. "Does this hurt your case against the murderer?"

"I was hoping to get him to talk." I said. "But I think we have a case, anyway. Let's move, just in case someone around here knows what's up and is calling the bitch to warn her."

Part 18 - A Murderer Captured

"Catherine, I don't get this." Cat Clausen's husband was saying. "Trish's funeral is coming up, you need to be here to help with that. You were her best friend."

"The funeral home will handle it." said Cat dismissively, quickly packing her large suitcase. "I've got to go, my dad called and said Mom is sick. He can't take care of her."

"When did he call?" Clausen asked, totally stunned by his wife's frantic actions. They had been trying to get back together, and had done very well in bed together the night before... but now his wife was acting strangely yet again.

"A while ago, while you were in the bathroom--" Cat said, but was interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

"Don't answer that!" Cat yelled as her husband went towards the door.

"What the hell?" he answered as shouts of "POLICE! OPEN UP!" were shouted from the other side of the door. He went to the door and opened it. I barged past him, as did Sergeant Rudistan and Patrol Officer Gunddottar. We were too quick for Cat Clausen, whom we prevented from running into the kitchen towards the back door.

"Cat Clausen," I said as Inga Gunddottar deftly turned her around and affixed handcuffs to her wrists before she hardly knew what was happening, "you are under arrest for the murder of Trish Donolan."

"What the hell is going on, here?" asked Cat's stunned husband. "Cat? What's going on?"

"Your wife is under arrest for murder, Mr. Clausen." I said. "Here's the warrant for her arrest, and here's the warrant to search this house for a large black handbag, the clothes she was wearing the night of the murder, and whatever else we find pertaining to the case..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"We've got the bag, and we've found Tyvex fibers inside it." reported Dr. Woodrow later that day. "Nothing on her clothes yet, but we're still working to see if any blood got into cracks in her shoes before she wiped off the soles."

"Good work, Doctor." I said. "Thank God she didn't get rid of the stuff." I hung up. "Okay, Croyle, let's go talk to Cat Clausen. Where's Ross?"

"In her office." said Teresa. "But to be honest, I don't think she's fully into the game right now. She told me about her parents not coming here. It's hit her really hard."

"Okay, we'll leave her alone for the time being." I said. "That means you and Tanya get to watch the fun." I grabbed Paulina Patterson, Tanya Perlman, Martin Nash and Diana Torres from MCD, and they followed me to Interrogation-1. Only myself and ADA Patterson went inside, while the others watched through the one-way glass.

"Okay, Cat." I said to the woman, sitting next to her lawyer, another expensive legal eagle from Gresham & Mason, P.C. "I am going to re-read you your rights, particularly for the benefit of your lawyer from Gresham & Mason, whom I'm seeing a lot of, lately." The lawyer's eyes widened slightly; he might have realized that I was onto far more than he had previously been aware. I read Cat her considerable legal rights.

"Okay, Cat." I said. "We're processing the evidence now. I know you're not going to insult my intelligence by pretending I don't have you down ice cold for Trish's murder. I only want to know two things: your reason why, and who hired you to do it and for what reason."

"In exchange for what?" said the lawyer, who was astute enough to know that the next words out of Paulina's mouth would be 'death penalty' if his client did not come correct.

"Death penalty off the table." said Paulina. "Life without parole."

"Not good enough." said the lawyer, whose eyes could not hide that he was essentially bluffing. "I don't think you have enough for a conviction, much less malice murder for the death penalty."

"Then you have another 'think' coming." I said to the lawyer derisively. "This woman viciously slit her supposedly best friend's throat with no more compunction than if she were swatting a fly. That alone is going to make a jury wonder just what capacity for evil Cat Clausen has inside her. And I'll give the D.A. the case for conviction that she'll spoon-feed to the jury like a hungry baby."

"Yeah, right." sneered the lawyer. "I'll not only have her out of here by the end of the day, I'll have the judge demanding you apologize for inconveniencing her with these fantasies of yours."

I couldn't help but laugh out loud at that. "I do apologize for laughing, Mrs. Clausen, but your legal representation here is really pathetic trying to bluff with the hand he's holding. Let me show you just some of what I have. In fact, I'll tell you just what you did, and you please correct me if I stray from the path, okay?"

I began. "Trish Donolan went into the bathroom and you followed her, with your large handbag in tow. I know this because several witnesses observed you with your handbag during the break. Inside the bathroom, you suggested that you dress up in a Tyvex suit as an early Hallowe'en trick, saying that after the break you'd come out saying the room was quarantined, or something along those lines. Trish actually helped you put on the suit, then you got up onto the toilet seat. Before she could react, you had the sendoku knife out, grabbed Trish, and slit her throat. I don't know if it was your friendship with her or just your lack of strength, but you barely got the job done." Cat's eyes were wide with shock; I knew I was on track.

"You then took off the protective suit and booties, put them and the weapon in the plastic bag, all while standing on the toilet seat, then threw the bag and contents through the ceiling tiles into the janitor closet, where your associate Trey Lundquist took the items and hid them in his office. Since he was being helpful to the police, and due to a lack of skepticism on my Crime Lab's part that I will assuredly be correcting in the near future, he was able to hide the package for the duration of our initial investigation. He later threw the package back up into the false ceiling and closed off the tiles."

"Meanwhile, you wiped down the top of the toilet and your shoes, then managed to get out of the room without tracking Trish's blood. What you didn't know is that she was still alive, moved enough to get to the door and to allow more blood to flow all over the floor, so when you 'found' her again she fell out the door."