The others were filed by former employees of Greer’s company, Fitness Gurus. Three of those claimed Greer owed them thousands for services rendered and the other two were sexual harassment suits.
“Charming guy,” I mumbled to Neil, barely stifling a yawn after sifting through pages of legalese. “From the sound of this he lied, he cheated, he stole and then hid behind a football team of lawyers. And I haven’t even gotten to the ex-wife yet.”
“Did any of the suits get filed since he met Eric? Maybe that’s the connection.” Neil shifted the stack but I shook my head.
“All of them are at least a year old and Eric’s only been with Fitness Gurus for about six months. According to his employment file, he started working for them in November.” Another yawn escaped.
“Let’s go to bed, Uncle Scrooge. You spent last night on the couch, you need a decent night’s rest.”
I nodded and pushed away from the table. Neil was at my side, taking my arm to steady me. “I wonder how Eric even found out about Fitness Gurus?”
Neil shrugged. “LinkedIn maybe. That was his scene, any and all things fitness and health related. And he was a pretty boy.”
“Was being the operative word.” I eased back onto the bed. “I just need a few minutes.”
Neil clicked off the light and then pressed a gentle kiss into my hair. “Take all the time you need.”
I nodded and then dozed off before he climbed beneath the covers.
When my eyes opened the first thing I saw was the note propped on Neil’s pillow. I smiled and reached for it.
Had to go into the office. Got boys to school and fed Atlas. Will call Grace and apologize as soon as I get in. I see you, my Maggie.
“What a guy,” I said to Atlas, who had started trotting around the bed the second he sensed movement. “Uh oh, I bet you need to go out, huh boy?”
Though he was a big dumb animal, he did recognize a few words and out was one of them. He galloped down the hall before my feet even hit the floor. I hit the restroom myself and found him in the kitchen pacing frantically by the back door.
I unbolted the door and pulled it open. “Okay, boy. Do your thing.”
Atlas charged out, leaving me standing in the doorway. Out of habit I glanced at the Wright’s house just in time to see a lamp click off.
Someone was inside.
Chapter Eleven
I left Atlas out back and rushed to the front of the house, where I could see the driveway. Eric’s silver Lexus was the only car there. I scanned up and down the street but saw no out of place vehicles. Whoever it was must have left their car in another part of the neighborhood.
I called Neil’s cell first but it went straight to voicemail. He must not have turned the thing on yet. I debated calling Mackenzie or Detective Capri. The P.I. would know what to do but I might not be in any condition to do whatever it was she suggested and she was too far away to help. The intruder could leave before she emerged from downtown traffic. That left Capri.
Blowing out a breath, I dialed her number. She picked up midway through the first ring.
“There’s someone in Sylvia’s house.” I told her. I was standing at the window, peering through the blinds so I wouldn’t miss anyone appearing at the house. “I was just wondering if it might be one of your people.”
“No,” Capri said. “I’ll have a squad car do a drive by. Where are you?”
“In my house.” And thoroughly freaked out. “What if it’s Sylvia?”
Capri didn’t answer directly. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Stay inside and keep your doors locked.”
I did a circuit through the interior of the house to make sure all the bolts were thrown. From the backyard I could hear the sound of Atlas barking, but I didn’t want to leave the window long enough to let him in, in case he scared off whoever was inside.
I wanted to see the face, in case it was important.
And if it’s Sylvia? A little voice inside me asked.
“Then she is better off in police custody than on the run with a newborn.” I answered out loud, hoping that if I said it enough I’d believe it. It wasn’t that I thought Capri incapable of keeping Sylvia and Astrid out of danger. More that I didn’t have all the facts. Eric as dead, his boss was dead and Sylvia had taken off and not come home.
A blue and white pulled up in front of the Wright’s driveway and two uniforms got out. I didn’t recognize either, but that wasn’t unusual. Capri was the only police officer I dealt with regularly.
The older officer, who looked to be in his mid-fifties approached the front of the house, where the crime scene tape reflected boldly in the early morning sun. His partner, a woman who looked younger than me had her sidearm drawn and disappeared around the side of the house, presumably to cover the rear exit.
Atlas was still at it, displaying serious separation anxiety after being left out all alone for ten whole minutes. Howling, yelping, and scratching frantically at the door. If I left him out there long enough he’d bust a horse sized hole in the siding.
I waited until I saw the older cop let himself into the house before moving to the kitchen to take care of the fleabag.
I opened the back door and he galloped inside. “Big baby,” I crooned at him and tried to shut the door.
A boot appeared in the jam, preventing it from shutting. A large boot.
The scream tore from my throat and I threw my weight against the door to keep whoever was on the other side from bursting in. The intruder had hopped the fence between our yard and the Wrights.
And he knew my name.
“Maggie, for the love of all that’s holy, let me in,” a familiar voice hissed.
“Marty?” I was so stunned, I immediately stepped back, tripping over the dog who was skulking behind me and growling.
My brother reached out and steadied me, shutting the back door with his foot. “Easy there. Holy crap, you’re as big as a house.”
“Thanks a bunch,” I said, my heart still thundering in my rib cage. “What the hell are you doing here? And was that you in Sylvia’s house?”
Someone pounded on the front door.
“That’ll be the police.” I told him. “Atlas, stop that.”
The dog gave a disgruntled sigh and slunk away. He and my brother had never bonded.
“Yeah, it was me,” Marty said. “You’re not going to have them arrest me, are you?”
“I should. You scared the hell out of me, Sprout.” But of course I wouldn’t. I’d spent too many years looking out for my kid brother to break the habit now.
“Maggie,” Detective Capri called.
“Frick, I have to take care of that.” I waddled toward the front door. “Stay out of sight for a few.”
Capri stood on the other side, hands on hips. “What took so long?”
“Just tripped on the dog is all.” I waved at Atlas, who always made a plausible scapegoat. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
“We checked the house. No sign of breaking and entering. And you’re sure you saw someone in there?”
I put a hand to my head in mock embarrassment, wincing theatrically. “Now that you mention it, it could have just been a trick of the light. I’d just gotten up and I’m a little jumpy these days. Sorry if I wasted your time.”
Capri’s eyes narrowed. I’d probably tripped her bullshit meter, but she didn’t call me on it. “Considering what’s happened, I’d rather be safe than sorry, so call me if anything else turns up.”
She pivoted as though to leave and I called out, “Do you think that whoever killed Eric also killed his boss?”
She turned back and removed her sunglasses. “Do you?”
I nodded. “Yes. I think it’s too much of a coincidence that they were both killed in a matter of weeks. It might have something to do with the lawsuits against the company.”
“As of right now, Mr. Wright’s murder falls under my jurisdiction while Mr. Greer’s belongs to the Boston P.D. But yes, I do believe they are connecte
d.”
I blinked, surprised she’d admitted that much. Capri typically played her cards close to the vest so I never knew what avenues she intended to explore.
“So, does that mean Sylvia isn’t a suspect?”
“The spouse is always a suspect. Especially when they disappear.”
“I think she’s running scared.” I offered, hoping she’d be willing to give as good as she got, information-wise.
“In that case it would be in Mrs. Wright’s best interest to have police protection. You’ll let me know if you hear from her?”
I nodded. Though I wanted to send her on her merry way and find out what exactly my brother had been doing next door, I had one more question. “Did you know Bradley Patterson had a daughter?”
It wasn’t often Detective Capri displayed any sort of raw emotion. Her features were controlled, her comments premeditated to elicit responses from others. So when her lips parted and she stared at me dumbfounded, I felt as though I’d scored some sort of victory.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. “You saw Grace, my doula, right? That’s her.”
Capri had worked with Patterson for years, had seen him every day at the office. Though she’d never said anything to me, my guess was that she felt even more betrayed by his actions than I did. “What’s she like?”
Not like him, was my first thought, but I didn’t say it. “She’s very sweet and gentle, a calming sort of person. The resemblance is there, if you know what to look for. Neil freaked out when he found out about her connection to Patterson, and sent her packing, but I’m lobbying to bring her back on board. I thought maybe you’d like to meet her.”
“I would. Have her give me a call,” Capri said and then turned away.
After shutting the door I hollered. “You can come out, Sprout.”
Marty emerged from the bathroom and I took a moment to study him. He had a full beard, something I’d never seen on him before. The hair was red, a serious contrast to the lighter brown on his head. “The face fur makes you look, different.”
“Different good?”
I thought about it for a minute and then nodded. “Yes. Though I think I see a gray streak.”
He snorted. “You’re one to talk, Madam Dye Job.”
I scowled but the expression didn’t last. “So, you want to tell me what you’re doing here? And why you were in Sylvia’s house? Penny didn’t kick you out, did she?”
Marty flopped down on the couch. “Always thinking the best of me, huh?”
I was in no mood to coddle his ego. “Marty, if you had any idea of what’s been happening next door, you never would have gone over there. And why exactly were you there?”
Marty spread his arms out along the back of the white couch, looking completely comfortable post break in. “Some of my stuff didn’t fit in the moving truck and Sylvia was hanging onto it for me. I still had a key and was looking for the box. Don’t make a federal case out of it.”
“So you just let yourself in?” I was aghast.
“Sylvia told me to.”
He had spoken to her? “When did you talk to her? It’s important, Marty.”
He got up off the couch with no problem, the showoff, and paced around the living room. “I don’t know, last week. I told her I was going to be in the area. What’s the big deal?”
My shoulders slumped. “Sylvia’s missing and her husband was murdered.”
Marty’s jaw dropped. “Get out.”
“It’s true. Neil and I found the body. I think Sylvia’s in trouble. She just had the baby and vanished without a trace from the hospital.”
“She didn’t call you, give you a heads up?”
I shook my head. “Things have been strained between us since you and Penny moved away.”
Marty put an arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” I blew out a sigh. “You hungry? I haven’t eaten anything yet and I’m craving an omelet.”
“You don’t need to cook for me. Sit down, rest.” He tried to steer me toward the couch. Atlas, who’d been skulking in the corner flattened his ears and growled at my brother.
“Better keep your hands to yourself, Sprout. Or you might lose one.” Ignoring his protests, I waddled into the kitchen and took the eggs from the refrigerator. “Let me do this, if I’m still I think and that’s not something I want to be doing right now.”
“Was it horrible? Finding Eric’s body, I mean.”
I whisked the eggs in a bowl until they were frothy then added a little fresh dill. “Of course it was horrible. He was dead. Murdered.”
“I mean, was it worse because you knew him?”
The eggs hit the pan and started to sizzle. “Maybe, but it’s not the first time I’ve stumbled across a dead body. I found Coop, remember him?”
Coop had been one of my very first cleaning partners when I started the Laundry Hag service.
“Surly old guy,” Marty’s grin took the sting out of his words. “But he died of a heart attack, right?”
I sliced some Havarti and laid it on the egg. “Right. And see, I was upset, but it’s not like he’d been murdered. I’ve never seen a homicide victim before, not first hand. The seeing makes it more terrible somehow. I don’t know how Capri manages.”
“You probably get used to it.” Marty said. “When it’s your job. It’s like forming a callous. Constant exposure hardens the skin so it doesn’t hurt so much.”
I didn’t think anyone could get used to seeing Eric the way he’d been in that freezer, but I didn’t argue. Two slices of sourdough bread had been stashed in the back of the pantry. After fishing them out and checking for mold, I popped them into the toaster.
“Maggs?”
“Hmm?” I glanced over my shoulder at him.
“Everything’s going to be okay.”
I split the omelet, buttered the toast and set the plate in front of Marty. “Thanks, Sprout. I need to hear that.”
Even if I didn’t believe it.
“YOU’RE KIDDING,”
“Nope. Got a company credit card and everything.” Marty took the Visa from his wallet and showed it to me. “The training seminar is in Boston, but I got in a day early and took an Uber out this way.”
I forked the Visa back over. “What about business cards? You got any of those?”
Marty stowed the credit card and retrieved a crisp new business card. I read the title out loud. “Martin Sampson, customer service specialist. Pretty, impressive Sprout.”
He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. Apparently I’m good with people. Who knew?”
Considering there had been a time when I’d have been happy to see my brother working at a drive thru, his success was impressive.
“So what is it you do?”
“I started off repairing wheelchairs and other in home medical equipment. Lifts, beds, pretty much anything mechanical. Penny’s uncle worked there and he got me the in. I’d talk to people while I was there, listen to their stories. It was kind of nice but the hours were really long. Penny was doing most everything for Mae. So I put in for an office job. Figured the worst they could say was no. Almost knocked me on my ass when they said yes. So now I’m mostly scheduling repairs, calling in parts and talking to customers. I also will go on some of the home visits if the customer requests it. Can you believe I’m actually going to be in charge of people? Hell, sometimes even I can’t believe it.”
“That’s what the seminar is for? Leadership?” Marty was in town on a business trip. I could barely get my head around it.
He nodded. “It’s not a ton of money but we’re doing okay. Just got an apartment. Mae’s getting big.”
“Pictures,” I demanded, making a grab for his phone. “I miss my niece.”
“You need to get on Facebook more. Penny’s always posting new pictures of her.”
We were in the process of scrolling through the latest cute baby photos when the doorbell rang. Both our heads swiveled to th
e door.
“That must be Leo. He mentioned he’d stop by today.”
Marty handed me the phone and got up. “Stay there, I’ll let him in.”
But it wasn’t Leo.
“Hey there.” I heard a woman croon when Marty opened the door. “When did you get back into town?”
Though I couldn’t see past Marty, I recognized the voice. Freaking Roberta Schmitt, aka the slag. And she was coming on to my very married brother.
The blood was roaring in my ears so I missed whatever Marty’s response had been.
“And how’s that sweet little baby girl of yours?” She asked.
“Fine.” I shouted. “And so’s his wife.”
“Maggie, just the person I came to see.” Roberta sashayed into the room. Well, she really just walked but compared to the way I was getting around, it appeared to be mincing. Without waiting for an offer to sit, Roberta plopped herself down on the seat beside me. “And how are you? Glory be, you’re huge!”
“Thanks for noticing.” I said through gritted teeth.
“May I?” Her hand was on my abdomen before I had a chance to refuse. Baby X was always ready to perform and gave an elbow jab that was visible even through my clothing.
“The miracle of life.” Roberta cooed, eyes growing misty. “Isn’t that just amazing?”
“Amazing,” I murmured, studying her closely.
Roberta looked kind of like Wynonna Ryder. Long dark hair, big dark eyes, pale skin she’d obviously protected from the sun. She was a little older than me, probably pushing forty. There was something fragile about her, as though she could shatter at any moment. An air of the waif. In need of a hero.
And she’d been trying to steal mine.
Maybe Neil had gotten it wrong. What had he said she’d said to him? Something about keeping her company? Could it be that she’d meant it in a more platonic way? Maybe the invitation had been for both of us, and he’d misunderstood. I watched her for a minute, wondering if I’d imagined that purr in her voice when she’d seen Marty, an overzealous figment of my imagination because I’d already painted her as the villain.
Bun in the Oven: The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag, #6 Page 11
