by Robin Caroll
7
Addy
“So, you were completely unaware of the threat to the hotel’s security system until Lissette came and informed you?” Marcel stared at her from his chair in front of her desk.
“That’s correct.” Addy spared a peek at Beau, sitting beside his partner. He’d been quiet through most of their interview, just making notes in his notebook as he usually did, letting Marcel ask most of the questions. “Here at the Darkwater, everyone knows their job and does it well. I don’t have much use for needing to run any security protocols.”
She shouldn’t be offended—he was just doing his job like she had to do hers, but she sometimes wished they could just talk like they usually did, as friends.
“Tell us about the hotel’s employees in the security department.” Addy nodded. “Well, since Geoff’s imprisonment, Sully Clements has been the acting head of security. He’s very thorough and a very hard worker.” He just wasn’t as instinctively good as Geoff. Man, she really missed Geoff. Only a few more months and he’d be released and able to come back to work, even if he couldn’t carry a gun again.
“Trustworthy?” Beau looked up from his notebook.
“Yes. I don’t have his employee file on me at the moment, but I know his employee record is stellar since we verified everything in his file last year before we promoted him to acting chief.”
“What can you tell me about Leon? Do you know if he had any problems with anyone?” Marcel probed.
She shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of. I’m sorry to say I didn’t know him as well as I do Sully or Hixson. Leon was always very respectful to me, and as far as I know, he did his job satisfactorily.”
“And what about Hixson Albertson?” Beau asked.
“Hixson is probably one of the youngest in the hotel, but he’s scary smart when it comes to everything technical. We hired him right out of high school. He takes online computer programming and coding classes.”
“He is young. And very smart with the programs. Someone who would be able to hack the system very easily, as well as cover his tracks.”
Addy pinned Marcel with her stare. “Are you saying you think Hixson had something to do with what happened?” She couldn’t imagine the young man being involved in anything so illegal.
Marcel shrugged. “He’s young, like you said. The young guns always think they’re infallible, don’t they? You just told us that he has the smarts to pull this off. He clearly had the means and opportunity to do it.”
“But why? There’s no motive.”
Beau looked up from his notebook. “How do you know he had no motive?”
“Well . . .” He had her there. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I just can’t imagine him being involved.”
Marcel chuckled. “You do know that most people are shocked after serial killers are revealed. Nextdoor neighbors, work associates, even spouses are often fooled by duplicitous people. Happens every single day.”
Sure, but Hixson? No way. “I guess, but you’d be wrong about Hixson. He’s just a kid. Albeit a very smart kid, but still just a kid.”
“You’d be amazed at what the right bit of motivation can do to move people to do things you’d never think they would. A debt over his head that he couldn’t see a way to break free of. A threat to his ego if he couldn’t. Drowning realization of pending doom. People are threatened on so many different levels by so many different things. Who’s to say this kid doesn’t have a mountain of debt?”
“Does he?” If he did, he could have come to the hotel. All the employees knew that the hotel—at least per her and Dimitri’s policy, anyway—took care of their own. Then again, she had been gone for six months . . .
“We won’t know until we get the backgrounds back on everyone, but that just goes to show you don’t know.” Beau’s smile took a little of the sting out of his words.
She smiled back instinctively. “I guess not.” “What about Claude Pampalon?”
Addy turned her attention to Marcel. “What about him?”
“He said he didn’t have anything in the safe at the time of the robbery. Is that correct?”
She shook her head. “I could have sworn he had a black velvet pouch in there, but I must have been mistaken since he isn’t claiming anything of his was stolen. It is his hotel, so he needn’t report to me when and what he puts in and out at his leisure.” He could have taken the pouch out, of course, but if that were the case, why didn’t he just say so? It really bothered her, and she didn’t quite know why. “But the fifty thousand dollars in cash, while technically belonging to the hotel, would actually belong to Claude—at least the way he usually sees it.”
“What about Dimitri Pampalon?” Beau’s question was loaded at best. Weighted at worst.
She let out a slow breath. “I’m unaware of anything he had stored in the safe.”
“But he knows the combination, yes?” Beau pushed.
She nodded.
“Who all does know the combination?” Marcel asked.
“Claude, Dimitri, me, and Lissette. If anyone else knows it, they were told by one of the other three, and I have no knowledge of that.” But it didn’t make sense for any of them to be suspect. “Although the hack is what opened the vault and the safe, so the person didn’t know the combination.”
“We don’t know that to be true. The hack’s unlocking could just be to throw us off the truth and make us not suspect someone who actually had a combination.”
She considered that, chewing her bottom lip. “That would be a lot of covering up involved. A double murder isn’t easily disregarded, I would think.”
“No, nor is knowing there was fifty thousand dollars in cash sitting in that safe.” Marcel gave a slight tilt of his head.
“There would’ve been a double murder either way, since the vault was guarded constantly by the Liechtenstein guard.” Beau held up a finger. “But the hotel doesn’t have a posted guard at the vault all the time, does it?”
She shook her head. “Almost never. The only reason Leon was guarding the vault today was because of the princess’s crown.”
“Who all knew the crown was in the safe in the vault?” Beau asked.
“Claude, Dimitri, me, Lissette. Everyone in the security department: Sully, Leon, Hixson, and Jackson. The princess, obviously, and her guard who was killed. Her other guard, Luca.” Addy ran through people’s faces in her mind. “Her fiancé, Edmond Jansen, and I’m sure his father, Edward Jansen. I’d say others in her country would have known to ensure the crown’s safety, but I wouldn’t know who exactly.”
“Has she taken it out of the safe since she’s been here?” Beau continued.
Addy shook her head again. “No. I put it in once she arrived Monday night about seven thirty, and she told us she wouldn’t need it again until the parade on Saturday at noon.”
“So it was understood by all in the know that the crown would be in the safe until Saturday, yes?” Marcel confirmed.
“Yes.” Addy understood exactly what Marcel was really asking.
“Before the princess arrived, did they send anyone ahead to inspect the security setup? Call and ask for video? Anything?” Beau asked.
“No. Nothing like that happened that I’m aware of.” Which, now that she knew the story of the tiara, seemed rather odd. If those jewels were really believed to have been some of the missing crown jewels of the Romanov family, then she couldn’t imagine the royal family letting them be so vulnerable. Unless . . . “But I don’t know what Claude might have told Edmond or his father. He might have given them detailed information.” She could clearly see Claude doing that. She could almost hear him telling his business associate not to worry about security for the crown because of the state-of-the-art, brilliant security system the Darkwater Inn had.
He wouldn’t really be lying. A few years ago, Claude had invested a lot of money in the security system at the hotel. Security video that was monitored twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Th
e elaborate electronic safes in each room, the old bank vault door, the safe. Everything was top of the line and updated regularly.
As Addy considered everything, she realized it wouldn’t have been arrogance for Claude to have assured the crown’s safety. She would have done the same herself. “I can understand if Mr. Pampalon guaranteed such security. There is absolutely no reason to think that the crown wouldn’t have been one hundred percent secure here.”
“Yet it wasn’t.”
She opened her mouth to give Marcel a piece of her mind, then clamped it shut before uttering a word. He had a point. No matter the security system, the crown had been stolen. From her hotel. Under her watch.
Beau shifted in his chair beside Marcel, facing her desk. “In looking at the notes I’ve taken of the timeline, I just need to verify something. In Dimitri’s statement he has documentation that the first signs of the hack—the room service orders—came at precisely 5:08 this evening. The call to our cyber-crimes unit was recorded at 6:42, and a team was dispatched shortly after. The 911 call was logged in at 7:08, and our cyber-crimes team arrived at 7:12. Marcel and I arrived a few minutes behind them at 7:19 p.m.”
He glanced up from his notes and met her gaze. “I’m wondering a couple of things. First, why did it take so long after the initial incident at 5:08 for anything to be reported to the cyber-crimes unit at 6:42? That’s an hour and thirty-four minutes, about an hour more than is customary to call in our teams. Why the delay?”
Addy did her best not to feel personally judged, but it was hard.
Yes, Beau was just doing his job, but he knew her. Knew how she would follow protocol and procedure as best she could. She licked her lips. “At first they thought it was just a glitch. It took them a little while to realize the system had been compromised.”
“They? Not you?” Beau pressed. “Who are they?”
Addy detested putting anyone else in the hot spot with the police, but she couldn’t lie to them. She’d learned her lesson on that the hard way last year and had no intention of repeating the mistake. “Dimitri was the one who initially realized the problem, of course, because of the room-service orders.”
“So he made the decision to delay notifying the police?” Beau asked.
She most despised pitting Beau against Dimitri. The unspoken animosity between them wasn’t a secret to anyone. “It’s not that simple. He had to eliminate the possibility that it was just a glitch in the system. He had Hixson look at the system to see what was causing the problem. Once it was established there was a problem, he told Lissette who told me. I also spoke with Hixson before I told Lissette to call the cyber-crimes unit.”
“Ultimately it was you who made the determination to call the police, yes?” Beau asked.
“Yes. I probably should have made that decision as soon as Lissette told me we’d been hacked, but I needed to talk with Hixson and verify first.”
Marcel rubbed the stubble on his chin, looking more like Taye Diggs than ever. “You’re the general manager of the hotel here, right?”
“Yes.”
“Claude is the owner,” Marcel continued.
She nodded.
“And Dimitri is also an owner, right?”
“Well, yes and no.”
Marcel’s brows shot up.
“Yes, Dimitri is Claude’s son and was being molded to take over as CEO of the hotel, but he hated it. He’s brilliant in the kitchen and wanted to be our chef. Last year, during all the craziness with Kevin Muller’s murder, Lissette was determined to be Claude’s illegitimate daughter. She and Dimitri went to Claude and worked out the arrangement that Dimitri would continue as chef and Lissette would be trained to take over as CEO.”
“I’m still having a hard time buying that Claude Pampalon agreed to that.” Beau tapped his pen against his notebook. “Just knowing how big his ego is, I can’t imagine him letting his son, the bearer of the Pampalon name, step aside in favor of a woman.”
She thought the same thing most times, too, but wouldn’t give her opinion when they were working an investigation, so remained silent.
“So neither Dimitri nor Lissette thought to call the cyber-crimes unit until you told them to?” Marcel asked.
“Lissette is in training, so she looks to me and Dimitri to make the decisions.”
“Which brings me to my next question.” Beau flipped through pages in his notebook. “What time were you notified of the situation? Doesn’t have to be the exact time, just a ballpark figure is fine.”
She’d looked at her phone right after Lissette had barged into her office. “Six thirteen. I’d checked the time.”
Beau wrote, then held the pen over the notebook. “Dimitri and Lissette realized there was an issue a little after five. They check on it themselves, taking over an hour before they tell you. Once they do tell you, it takes you only twenty-something minutes to realize the situation requires police attention and instruct Lissette to call cyber- crimes. Is that about right?”
She nodded.
“I’m wondering . . .” Beau closed his notebook and met her stare with his own. “. . . why it took Dimitri and Lissette twice as long to realize there was a problem and to tell someone than it did you.”
Addy knew Beau would do his job and not allow personal bias to interfere in the investigation, but he would also jump on any mistake of Dimitri’s. “I can’t answer that. Maybe it took longer for Hixson to identify there was a hack and not just a glitch.”
“I see.” Beau and Marcel exchanged looks, then they both stood.
Addy stood as well. “Is there anything we need to do at this point?”
Marcel shook his head. “We’ll be continuing our investigation, so we might need to ask you for more information.”
“Most certainly.” She stepped around her desk.
“And we’ll need to speak to various employees as well.” Beau slipped his notebook into his pocket. “So we’ll be around the hotel over the next couple of days or so. Of course, we’ll do our best to be discreet and unobtrusive.”
“I appreciate that.” She walked them to her office door.
“Thank you for your time and cooperation, Addy.” Marcel smiled at her.
She still didn’t like the man’s cocky attitude, but over the last year she’d at least come to appreciate his frankness. And his loyalty to Beau. Addy appreciated that more than she cared to analyze at the moment. “Of course.”
He opened the office door and started down the hall.
Beau hesitated. “Are you okay, sha? Really?” His tone softened with the lowering of his voice.
She smiled and nodded. “I’ll be okay.”
He reached out and ran a hand down her arm. “I know this has to be tough on you, for a myriad of reasons.”
“You, too, I’m sure.”
He drew her into a quick hug. “We’ll get through this case too. At least you aren’t a suspect.” He grinned and squeezed her to him.
“Well, there is that.” She nudged him with her hip. His teasing eased the tightness in her gut. “Daddy said he invited you to join us tomorrow night. Are you going to make it? We’re having BBQ.”
“As long as you aren’t the one cooking it.” He chuckled. “I mean, I don’t think I’ve recovered from the gumbo fiasco of last month.”
“Hey, now. It’s not my fault Daddy burnt the roux.” But the gumbo hadn’t been edible, and they’d had to speed to the pizza joint before it closed.
“Sure, it was all his fault.” Beau stopped laughing and hugged her again. “It’s going to be okay, Addy. We’ll find who did this.”
She nodded, but tears burned her eyes, so she dropped her head.
Beau used a single finger to lift her chin so that he could look her in the eye. “I promise you, Addy, I’ll catch whoever killed them.” He leaned over and gently kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ll catch them and see that justice is served.”
She had no doubt he’d do just that. What she didn’t know was if it was th
at fact or his sweet and innocent kiss that warmed her all the way to her toes.
8
Beau
The February morning dawned brighter than usual over Crescent City. The cooler air carried a crispness, an edge to it. Beau stood at the edge of Jackson Square, facing the majestic St. Louis Cathedral, and cooled down from his jog. The statue of Andrew Jackson on horseback stood proudly before the cathedral, the sun casting shad-ows around the military officer who was regaled as The Hero of New Orleans for defending the city against the invasions of the British in 1815.
Beau loved the city’s rich history, colorful as it often was. New Orleans had her flaws, certainly, but she was regal and graceful at the same time, and unlike anywhere else on earth. Those who were lucky enough to call her home enjoyed her vibrant culture, cuisine, and heritage. Beau took it even a step further in that he felt an obligation to defend her, to keep her streets safe for his fellow New Orleanians. Being a cop was more than a job to him—it was his legacy and his duty, but also part of who he was. He related to Andrew Jackson in that way, being a defender of New Orleans.
His cell phone vibrated, and he pulled it from his arm’s sleeve band. He checked the display before he tapped the screen to answer the call. “Hey, Marcel.” He automatically turned to head back to his car.
“Just heard from Sully Clements at the Darkwater Inn. The security officer who was off yesterday, Jackson Larder, was due in this morning at eight. I’ll give you three guesses who didn’t show up, and the first two don’t count.”
Beau unlocked the car’s door and slipped behind the wheel, making a note of the time illuminated on the dashboard clock: eight eighteen. “Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll pick you up. Get Larder’s address while you’re waiting.”
“Already got it. See you.”
Fourteen minutes and a shower later, Beau pulled up in front of Marcel’s apartment. His partner stood waiting with a cup of coffee, leaning against the side of the old brick building. He pushed off and slipped into the passenger’s side of the cruiser. The smell of rich chicory wafted from the open cup and filled the car’s cabin.
