“Your Honor, we have several arrest warrants we need signed.”
“So I’ve been informed, Detective Monroe. Let me have them, please.”
Paul handed them over, and he and Rob waited while the judge perused Bear’s and Wellie’s. He signed them with no issue. Cartwright’s took more time.
“You’re lucky you have the rental car, Detectives. I might not have signed this based on the testimony of a low-level criminal like Falk who’s getting a plea deal.” He met Paul’s gaze with narrowed eyes. “Especially as I heard you have, should I say, a vested interest in the attempted-rape charge?”
Paul struggled to maintain his composure. “My interest is in seeing justice done, Your Honor, no matter who the victim is.”
The judge picked up his pen and signed it. “There you are.” He handed the warrants to Paul. “Don’t mistake what I said for anything other than the necessity of having all our i’s dotted and our t’s crossed. I don’t want some slick attorney claiming you were overly zealous because of your personal feelings, no matter how you might’ve had to hide them.” He blinked. “I know what that’s like.”
And without further words, Paul understood what Kramer was trying to tell him. “Thank you, sir.”
“Good day, gentlemen.”
Once outside, Paul kept his hand on the warrants in his pocket. “Ready to go for it?”
“Willing and able.” Rob checked his watch. “It’s almost lunchtime. Should we wait for him to have a full stomach?”
“Nah. Let’s call and tell him we have a few more questions.”
Upon their return to the station, they gave the officers on duty the warrants and sent them on their way. But when they called Cartwright, he wasn’t as friendly as in their initial meeting. “I’m sorry, Detectives, but I have business meetings.”
“It won’t take too long, I can assure you,” Paul responded smoothly.
“I really can’t—”
“Mr. Cartwright, please. Give us a time and place.”
“I’ll be at the Starrywood Hotel at one o’clock. I have a lunch meeting.”
“Okay. We’ll see you soon.”
He frowned as he disconnected the call.
“What’s the matter?” Rob asked. “That’s only an hour from now.”
“Cliff met him.”
“Who, Cartwright? How?”
“I don’t know the details, but the gist of it is he and Cliff had a meeting, and I don’t know why, but I have an uncomfortable feeling about it.”
“Why, did Cliff say anything?”
“No, with everything else going on, we haven’t had the chance to sit down and talk.”
“Guess we’ll find out when we get to the Starrywood.”
That was one of the worries in Paul’s mind, but they wouldn’t know anything until they got to the hotel.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
What a difference a day made. Once he discussed his feelings with Paul and knew that Travis would be behind bars for a very long time, his anxiety diminished exponentially. Cliff called Dr. Hernandez’s office, and she was happy to move his appointment up to the following week. He called Ryan next.
“Thanks for giving me the doctor’s number.”
“She’s good, right? I’m really glad you went to see her.”
“Me too. And Paul said he’d come with me next time.”
“Yeah? That’s great. Having a supportive partner will help.”
“It already has.”
“You’re a lucky man. And so is Paul.”
“We both are. Talk to you later.”
Cliff sat thinking for a moment, then made another call.
“Mel, did you get my message the other day?”
“Cliff, yeah, I’ve been swamped. Sorry I didn’t get back to you.” Melvin Smith’s deep voice resonated in Cliff’s small office. “You want to put Paul Monroe on the title as co-owner. Let me ask you, are you two married or in a registered domestic partnership?”
“No. But that doesn’t matter to me.”
“Maybe not to you, but as your attorney, it matters to me. I’ve seen enough to know how the most harmonious relationships can flip to acrimonious.”
“Paul and I are in this for the long haul, Mel.” Cliff picked up the picture of the two of them at the beach and decided that once Paul wrapped up this case, they needed to take a long weekend somewhere, like maybe Mexico or the Caribbean.
“I know, I know. I’m only thinking of protecting you. Once you put Paul’s name on the title, it’s not a simple job to take it off.”
“I’m hoping one day we’ll get married. I don’t ever want him to think that he and I aren’t sharing our lives. It’s important to me, so can you get it started? Please?”
A sigh filled his ear. “All right. I’ll contact the title company, and you’ll need to talk to the bank as well.”
“I will. Thanks.”
“Not a problem. Take care, Cliff.”
He sat for a moment and reflected on what he’d said to Mel. Marriage. It wasn’t something the two of them had discussed. They’d talked about forever and love, but neither had said the word. Cliff didn’t need a piece of paper and a stranger reciting words to tell him that Paul was the only man he’d ever love. But did Paul want to get married? Chalk it up to another conversation the two of them needed to have one day.
His phone buzzed. “Yes, Preston?”
“Um, there’s a Mr. Cartwright here to see you?”
Shit. He’d given little to no thought to the man’s offer, which in his heart, Cliff knew he wouldn’t accept. Best to tell him before he got mad at Cliff for stringing him along.
“Send him back.”
A knock sounded, and he stood, on his guard and wary.
“Come in.”
Cartwright strode inside with a wide smile. “There’s my star. How the hell are you, Cliff?”
“I’m good. Please sit down. Can I get you a drink? I can have the bar send something over.”
“Why, that would be very kind of you. Tell them a Glenlivet on the rocks.”
“Right away.” He picked up the phone and spoke the order to the bar, telling them to make it quick. “It’ll be ready shortly. How’ve you been?”
Like their prior meeting, Cliff had an uneasy feeling about Cartwright. His smile was a shade too bright, his eyes too all-knowing.
“Good, good. Making some plans to travel. I never like to stay in one place too long. I get antsy. How about you?”
“Very well, thanks.”
“Tell me, have you given my offer further thought? Did you speak with your family, significant other, or whomever?” Cartwright’s teeth flashed white in his tanned face.
“I’m afraid my answer is going to have to be no. My partner and I are entrenched in our lives here, and I’m not willing to walk away from everything we have.”
The lines around his mouth deepened. “That’s foolish. You don’t have to move. Stay here and travel to the Southwest. I’m sure your partner will understand.”
“I’m afraid the answer is still no.”
There was a knock at the door, and grateful for the reprieve, Cliff jumped up and answered it. A waiter from the bar stood in the hallway with a drink on a tray.
“Here you go, Cliff.”
“Thanks, Greg.” He took it, and when he reentered the office, he saw Cartwright with the picture of him and Paul in his hand, studying it. Inexplicably, his heart began to pound. “Here’s your drink,” he said a bit too cheerfully. Hoping he didn’t sound like an idiot, Cliff set the tray down on his desk.
“Is this your partner…your boyfriend?” Cartwright said, oddly subdued.
“Yes.” Again, Cliff heard Paul’s voice in his ear, reminding him to be careful, and decided to remove himself from isolation with Cartwright. “Maybe we can have lunch and you can convince me that traveling might not be such a bad idea.” Cliff motioned to the picture.
“Why not?” He carefully returned the picture to t
he desk and picked up his glass. With a flip of his wrist, Cartwright tossed back half of his Scotch and rose from the chair.
Moving quickly out of the room, Cliff led the way to the restaurant, which, as it was lunchtime and the site for a three-day CPA seminar, was three-quarters full. Jade hustled over to them when she saw who he was with.
“I can put you in the corner table, away from the crowd, but there’s no view.”
“It’s fine. I’m glad we’re busy at least.”
“That we are.”
She brought them over to the table and called over the busboy to give them water, then left them. A waiter came, and even though he had little appetite, Cliff ordered the Cobb salad, while Cartwright ordered the French dip, along with another Scotch on the rocks.
“Perhaps you can tell me,” Cliff said after the waiter left them, “how much travel there would be and how long I’d be required to be away from home for this other position.”
“We have plenty of time for that. Tell me about your partner.”
“What would you like to know?” Cliff asked politely while his stomach cramped.
“He’s the detective who’s been investigating the fire at my club, correct?”
“Oh, I uh, didn’t know you owned the Wild Orchard.”
“Yes,” Cartwright answered, impatience creeping into his voice. “Is he?”
Under the table, Cliff clasped his hands together. “I-I don’t really know. Paul doesn’t discuss his cases with me.”
“No? I find that strange.”
“Well, he’s not allowed. Confidentiality, you know.”
“No, I don’t know.” The waiter set down Cartwright’s second drink and departed, but he ignored it. “So you have no idea if he’s on to any leads or how close he is to solving the case?”
Cliff forced a smile. “N-no. Not at all. I have no idea. But I’m sure since it’s your club, if you want an update, they’ll give it to you.”
He visibly relaxed. “Oh, I’m sure you’re right. I’m concerned, of course, that whoever committed that heinous act gets caught.”
“Of course,” Cliff murmured.
“Now about the job, let me see if I can seduce you away from Thornwood Park.” That piercing gaze traveled over Cliff, and he shivered, but inwardly cheered when he spotted the waiter with their food.
“I’m happy to listen.” Cliff drizzled some dressing over the salad and toyed with it, waiting for Cartwright to speak. If he could keep the subject matter on unimportant things, like this job he had no intention of taking, then he could finish this lunch and get rid of the man.
“You would be away for approximately two weeks a month, handling the hotels in the region. You’d be given accommodations at each hotel and a generous expense budget. I’d expect monthly reports on each property as well as ideas to improve capacity.” His smile gleamed. “There would be times I’d travel with you, to keep an eye on how you’re doing.” Cliff suppressed the urge to recoil. “Do you think this is something you’d be interested in?”
“I’m certainly not above wanting to move up in the company, so it’s just a matter of needing a bit more time. My mother was very ill last year, and I don’t like the thought of leaving for such extended periods of time.”
Cartwright ate half his sandwich before responding. “And then there’s your partner.” His emphasis on the word wasn’t lost on Cliff.
“Yes. I wouldn’t make any move without consulting him first.”
“Admirable. I hope Detective Monroe knows how lucky he is,” Cartwright said and licked his lips.
Any thought of eating his lunch vanished, and as he was about to beg off, he spotted Paul and Rob. Their faces grim, both men strode past the reception desk toward the restaurant, and Cliff’s heart began to pound. Paul’s eyes widened, and his face became a mask of pure stone. Rob tipped his head to the side, and Cliff pushed away from his chair.
“I’m sorry, but I forgot I need to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.” Ignoring Cartwright’s startled expression, Cliff hurried past Paul and Rob and from the safety of the bar, he stood with Jade, his gaze fixed on Paul, waiting to see what was about to happen.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Hold up, cowboy,” Rob said under his breath. “They’re in a public space. Cartwright won’t do anything stupid. Cliff isn’t in any danger.”
“Easy for you to say.” Paul couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of Cliff sitting at the table with a man he knew orchestrated the destruction of the Wild Orchid. “But I’m not about to make a rookie mistake. By the book. The bastard isn’t going to walk.”
To his relief, Cliff left Cartwright sitting at the table and though he saw the questions in his eyes, Paul couldn’t become distracted. Now that Cliff was safe, Paul’s attention focused on Cartwright.
“Let’s go,” he said to Rob, and they strode into the dining room.
“Detectives, what’s going on?” Cartwright pretended bravado, but Paul saw the flash in his eyes.
Fear.
Yeah. You chew on that, you bastard.
“Mackenzie Cartwright, we have a warrant for your arrest. The charges are insurance fraud, conspiracy to commit arson, and felony murder.”
“What? This is outrageous.” Cartwright sprang out of his chair, blustering. “I demand to speak to the mayor. Do you know who you’re speaking to? You’re making a grave mistake, Detectives.” He made to walk away, but Rob stopped him.
“Please don’t cause a scene.” Coolly, Rob read him his rights directly from the printed card. No chance of any mistakes.
“I demand a lawyer. Are you jealous of my success? That’s it, isn’t it?” His eyes narrowed to feral dark slits as he glared at Paul. “Are you upset your boyfriend was about to leave you for me? I gave him a promotion, did he tell you that?” His voice dropped to a hiss. “I bet he didn’t tell you we’ve been here fucking while you’re out working. Every day. Why do you think we’re having lunch? He’s got a nice tight ass, doesn’t he?”
Disgusted by Cartwright’s lies, Paul slapped handcuffs on his wrists none to carefully and smiled to himself as the man continued to rage.
“Forget about your pensions. You’re done with this job. Do you know what you’re doing?”
Paul snapped. “Do you know what you did? You killed someone. For money. You didn’t care how many people might’ve died that night. You’re a craven coward who exploits people to do his dirty work.”
Rob took Cartwright by one arm, Paul took the other, and they walked him out to the police car they took to the hotel for the specific purpose of transporting him to the precinct. They endured him screaming obscenities at them from behind and herded him into the station for processing.
“I want my lawyer. Get me Kraft. Where is that useless piece of shit when I need him?”
Paul winced. “Keep your mouth shut.”
The wild-eyed Cartwright lashed out with his foot, kicking Paul in the ankle, and struggled to get free. He kicked Paul again, who reacted by slamming him facedown on the floor.
“Now why’d you want to go do that for?”
Kraft appeared at their side “I see we have a bit of an issue? I thought I told you garbage delivery is out back, Detectives.”
Rob helped Paul pull Cartwright to his feet.
“You’ll pay for this. All of you will.” By this time a crowd had gathered, watching the spectacle.
“Monroe,” Kraft said as unruffled as ever. “Let him call his lawyer, then get him in for processing.”
“Are you going to behave now?”
“You heard him,” Cartwright snarled. “Take these off me so I can call my lawyer.”
“Rob, get the leg shackles. I don’t trust this one not to run.” Paul winced as he put his weight on the leg. Shit, that son of a bitch got him good.
“Already got them.” Rob held them up and clipped them to Cartwright’s ankles.
“There. Now, Mr. Cartwright, the phone is here. Make your call to yo
ur lawyer, and then we’ll take you to your new digs. I can’t promise you they’re as luxurious as your place in the Commodore, but they’ll have to do.”
“You think you’re funny, don’t you? Think again when I have your badges.”
“Make the call, sir,” Paul repeated, refusing to engage, and pointed to the phone. They waited as Cartwright blustered some more before snatching up the phone handle and punching in the number.
“Jake Devine, please.”
Of course. It made sense that Cartwright would have the high-priced criminal-defense attorney on his payroll. At least the man knew his job and was fair.
Cartwright barked a few more sentences into the phone and slammed it down.
“All done?” Rob asked with a congenial smile.
“You won’t be smiling for long.”
The officer on duty took over processing Cartwright while Paul went to his desk to examine his ankle. It had begun to bruise and swell a bit, but nothing he needed medical attention for. The sound of angry voices from the processing area reached them.
“That’s one unhappy man. He’s fighting with everyone.” Rob winced in sympathy. “Ouch, that looks painful.”
“I’ll live. Let’s get all our paperwork in order. Jake Devine is nothing if not thorough.”
“Good work, Detectives.” Kraft stopped at their desks. “I’ve already alerted the mayor, and he’s ready to make a statement that the suspects are behind bars and praising the department.”
“I’m glad, sir.”
“Devine, hm?”
“Yes, sir. I’m sure he doesn’t hold anything against us for the Ulrich case last year.” Paul rubbed his ankle.
“Especially now that he and Catherine Ulrich are engaged,” Rob said, and both Paul and Kraft stared at him. “What? My wife likes to read the society pages. I hear things.”
Paul chuckled. “You’re something else.”
“Okay, gentlemen, I hate to leave this fascinating discussion, but I’m off to the mayor’s press conference. Keep me posted after your meeting with Devine.”
Death Comes to Main Street (The Paul Monroe Mysteries Book 3) Page 25
