There was a misconception that only the rich and wealthy got work done on their bodies. If that was the case, most plastic surgeons would be out of business. There were only so many affluent people in the city, and not all were shallow enough to spend thousands of dollars to be young again. It was the average person—the people off the street—who were his best clients. A mother looking to get rid of extra flab around her waist after her second or third child. A teenage girl who wants her nose to look like a certain pop singer’s convinces her parents that she needs the procedure. A young man who thinks all men should be hairless, thanks to TV ads, comes in for laser hair removal. All these services, even if he personally was not involved in them, helped bring money into the clinic. This allowed him to focus on the well-off clients. He would cater to all their needs. He would visit their homes at all times of the day. He would drive to a party in the middle of the night if they needed a quick touch-up. He had even flown across the country so that they could look good for a presentation. He would charge a bundle for these personal calls.
Now things were a little different. He had to cut his staff by half, and those who were still employed worked part-time.
The woman thanked him and left his office.
He was reaching for his cell phone, in case there was an urgent call, when his secretary knocked on the door. “Dr. Lester, there are some people here to see you,” she said.
“Tell them to make an appointment,” he said, annoyed. Even if his schedule was free, he never took walk-ins. They were only interested in finding out his fee, and when they did, they almost never came back. He preferred appointments only after his secretary had gone over their pricing structure with them. Also, he wanted to give off the impression that he was an in-demand surgeon. He once was, and he believed he would be again. The economy went up and down, and at the moment, it was in a downturn. But the moment it moved back up, clients would come flocking in.
“They are not here for a procedure,” the secretary said. “They are detectives from the Milton Police Department.”
Lester was silent a moment.
“Okay, I’ll see them,” he said.
He went out and found a man and a woman waiting for him. They flashed their badges and introduced themselves. He knew who they were. He had seen them on TV at the press conference. Detectives Holt and Fisher.
“Is this about my niece?” he asked.
They looked at him.
“I mean, you are assigned to her case, are you not?”
“Yes, we are,” Detective Holt replied.
“How can I help you?”
“We are trying to contact your sister, Sharon Gardener, but we’ve not had any success. Do you know where we can find her?”
Lester’s brow furrowed. “She’s still living at my residence, but I thought she had already given her statement to the police. So what’s this about?”
Detective Holt pulled out a Polaroid and held it up for him to see. “Your niece was wearing this pendant. It is evidence we believe that can help us solve this case. We were hoping to speak to your sister in case she may have it.”
Lester frowned. “I thought my brother-in-law killed my niece?”
“I can’t go into any details, but we have information to the contrary. Can you please have your sister contact us?”
“Yes, of course.” Lester took Holt’s card. He said, “As you know, my sister is under a lot of stress, so she’s not taking any calls. But the moment I see her, I will have her contact you.”
NINETY-ONE
Lester watched the detectives leave the clinic. He went back into his office and shut the door.
He pulled off his white coat and grabbed the cell phone on his desk. There were several missed calls. He never answered his phone when he was with a patient. The calls did not look urgent, so he stuffed the phone in his pocket.
He went back to the front desk and told his secretary he was going out for lunch. She reminded him of an appointment later in the day, but he was already out the door.
He got in his Mercedes-Benz and drove out of the clinic’s parking lot.
He took the highway. He knew the route by heart.
Twenty-five minutes later, he pulled in front of an apartment building. He drove around to the back and parked in a tenant parking spot.
He rushed into the building and took the elevator up to the sixth floor. He entered the unit and headed straight for the bedroom. He looked underneath the bed, the mattress, the side table, and inside the closet. He then moved to the bathroom. He was certain it would not be here, but he had to make sure. After he checked the floor and the area around the toilet, he turned to the living room. He pushed the sofa aside, looked behind the TV stand, and pulled aside the drapes.
He frowned and went to the kitchen. He pulled open the cupboards and the fridge. He cursed and slammed the fridge door shut.
He went back to the living room and sat down on the sofa.
He shut his eyes and tried to retrace his steps that night. He was at his clinic when he had received Kyla’s call. She wanted to speak to him. Her voice sounded urgent but also excited. He rushed over, and they met at a bar.
He already knew she was pregnant. She had told him several weeks before. It was a mistake he regretted the moment it had happened. She was young and beautiful; he was divorced and not seeing anyone.
She had come to his clinic wanting to get work done. He had always managed to talk her out of it. He was surprised one day when she asked about the apartment. She knew of her mother’s affairs. Unlike her father, she was not naïve about what was going on in the family. She wanted to see the apartment where her mother took the men.
He saw no harm in it. She already knew about it, so why not take her there? She was an adult, after all. She was capable of making her own decisions. He was also concerned that she would tell others about the apartment if he did not comply.
The apartment was used by him, his sister, and even their father on some occasions. It was a family secret, one they did not want the public to find out about.
He would take his female patients to the apartment for a few hours when the opportunity arose. It was the main reason for his two divorces. His ex-wives had found out about his affairs, and he paid them handsomely to keep them from telling anyone.
At the bar, Kyla had informed him of her decision to keep the baby. She also wanted him to marry her, as she did not want to raise the child on her own. “There is no way I can do that,” he had said to her. Then he expounded on how his sister would be livid and his reputation would be ruined, not to mention the impact it would have on his father’s bid for re-election. If word of their family drama got out, his father’s political career would be over.
They argued until she stormed out of the bar. He followed her, and he was able to calm her down. He drove her back to the apartment. He wanted to have a long conversation with her in private. Maybe he could talk some sense into her, and this matter would be behind them. But it did not turn out that way.
She was incensed that he would even consider making her get an abortion. She called him nasty names. She threatened to tell her mother the truth and expose him to the world. He got angry, and he hit her across the face, splitting her lip and gashing his hand.
She was shocked at what had done. So was he. He did not believe in violence.
She screamed at the top of her lungs. She tried to lunge at him, and that was when he grabbed her by the throat. She was still screaming and calling him names when he pushed her to the wall. He squeezed tight. He wanted her to quiet down. Her eyes suddenly bulged, and when he let go, she was dead.
Tears flowed down his cheeks as he remembered that moment. He never meant to hurt her.
He opened his eyes when something occurred to him. He rushed out of the apartment and took the elevators down to the main lobby. He raced to the Mercedes-Benz and opened the trunk.
He pushed aside a gym bag and a trunk organizer. He spotted it in the corner. He leaned in a
nd picked up the heart-shaped pendant. It must have fallen off when he had placed Kyla’s body in the trunk.
A shadow fell over him.
He turned and saw Detectives Holt and Fisher.
“Keep your hands where we can see them,” Fisher ordered. Her hand was on her gun holster.
He complied.
Holt came over, and with a gloved hand, he grabbed the pendant from Dr. Lester. “Look at what we have here,” he said as he placed the pendant in a clear plastic bag.
Fisher cuffed him and said, “Dr. Richard Lester, you are under arrest for the murder of Kyla Gardener.”
Lester lowered his head. He knew it was over.
NINETY-TWO
Callaway leaned on the hood of his car. He was parked in front of the Milton PD. He checked his watch and looked around.
He spotted Fisher coming out of the main doors. She had a smile on her face. “Lester confessed to the whole thing,” she said.
“I knew he would,” he replied.
“Your theory of how it went down was pretty accurate. Lester filled us in on anything that we were not sure of.”
“Where’s Holt?”
“He’s booking Lester as we speak.”
Callaway could not help but smile himself.
“How were you so certain that Gardener didn’t do it?” Fisher asked. “I mean, the odds were stacked against him.”
“There was something I did not tell you.”
“What?”
“On the day Kyla was murdered, Paul was at my office. He had come to pay me the first installment for the job. He didn’t look like a man who was going to murder his daughter later that night. He was tired, but he was calm. He was more preoccupied with what was going on with his business, which I knew was struggling.”
“That still is not enough to think he couldn’t have done it.”
“I can’t explain it, but when I looked into his eyes, I didn’t see a murderer. What I saw was an honest man who, even though he was under financial pressures, wanted to make sure I was paid before I started the job. It was something I could never shake off.”
“Well, I’m glad you pursued this until the end, or else we would have sent a man to prison for a crime he never committed.”
Holt approached Callaway. “I guess I owe you an apology.”
“I think you owe Paul Gardener an apology.”
He stared at Callaway for a second. Then he nodded and held out his hand. “Thanks,” he said.
Callaway shook Holt’s hand.
Fisher’s phone buzzed. She answered it. When she hung up, she said, “You won’t believe this.”
“What?” Holt and Callaway asked in unison.
“I’ll explain on the way there,” she replied.
They drove straight to the house. After parking next to the water fountain, they raced up the stairs to the second floor. They spotted a Filipino lady weeping by the bedroom door. They entered the bathroom and found a body submerged in the bathtub. There was a bottle of alcohol on the floor, and next to it was an empty bottle of sleeping pills.
Sharon Gardener’s eyes were closed, but it was obvious she was dead.
“I guess the guilt got the better of her,” Fisher said.
“Why?” Holt replied. “She didn’t kill her daughter, and I doubt she knew her brother was the baby’s father.”
Callaway said, “Maybe she blamed herself for not being home the night her daughter was murdered.”
Holt sighed and shook his head. “This is one weird family.”
NINETY-THREE
Outside the house, Callaway said, “So, I guess all the charges against Paul are dropped, right?”
“Not quite,” Holt said. “Lester only confessed to murdering Kyla Gardener, not Pedro Catano.”
“What?” Callaway was incredulous. “Did you push him on it?”
“Sure we did,” Holt replied. “He said he has no idea what happened to Pedro. He was too busy with staging Kyla’s murder to look like Gardener had done it.”
Fisher added, “Lester wouldn’t budge in his statement. And I have to admit, the evidence against him killing Pedro isn’t strong enough. The timeline just doesn’t add up.”
“So what are you saying?”
“The gun registered to Gardener was used to shoot and kill Pedro,” Fisher said. “Until we solve that, the charges against Gardener stay.”
Callaway shook his head, thinking. “If Lester didn’t kill Pedro, and Paul didn’t either, then who could it be?”
“Your guess is as good as ours,” Fisher said.
Callaway’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t I see it before?” he said, more to himself than to Holt and Fisher.
“What?” Fisher asked. “You solved Pedro’s murder too?”
“I think I just might have.”
“Okay, so who is it?”
Callaway began walking away from them. “I need to do something first.”
NINETY-FOUR
Callaway pulled up to the Gardener residence and parked in the driveway. Instead of going through the front, where the yellow police tape was still visible, he went around to the back. The gate had been unlocked after his last visit.
He saw the guesthouse up ahead. He turned left and headed straight for the sliding doors at the back of the house. He checked, and found the doors were unlocked. He entered.
The house was dark. He went through the kitchen and entered the living room. He spotted a figure standing in the shadow by the windows.
“You’re not Mike Grabonsky,” the man said.
“You’re right, Mr. Senator,” Callaway said. “I’m not.”
Senator Barron Lester came into the light. His face was hard, and his steely eyes were focused directly at him.
Callaway had gone to Mike’s house, and when he explained what he wanted him to do, Mike was more than willing to help. Mike had called Senator Lester and told him he had seen a car driving away from the strip mall on the night Pedro Catano’s body was found. Mike even provided a license plate number, which Callaway was able to get from an online search.
A witness who worked at a diner across from the strip mall had stated in the newspapers that he had seen a black sedan driving away from the scene. It was easy to mistake it for a black Audi. What most people did not know was that Senator Lester drove a black Lincoln Town Car.
Once Mike had Senator Lester’s attention, he told him he wanted twenty-five thousand dollars, or else he would go to the media and the police.
Callaway knew Senator Lester would agree to meet. He had, after all, paid Gus Holden to stay away from his daughter and granddaughter. Senator Lester was known to buy his way out of a bad situation.
“You are the private investigator my son-in-law hired, aren’t you?” Senator Lester said.
“I am.”
“I’m not sure what game you’re playing, but I’m leaving.”
Callaway pulled out his cell phone and played a recording. It was the conversation between Mike and Senator Lester.
“I’m sure the voters of this fine state would be troubled by this.”
“How much do you want?” Senator Lester asked through gritted teeth.
“I don’t want money, sir,” Callaway replied. “I just don’t want an innocent man to go to jail for something he didn’t do, that’s all.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“I know you killed Pedro. I just want to know why.”
Senator Lester smiled. “You expect me to confess so that you can record it?”
“No, I expect you to tell the truth, sir.”
“Why would I do that?”
“The guilt must be eating away at your soul.”
Senator Lester stared at him.
“At the press conference with Pedro’s father, you said you will cover his son’s funeral expenses. That was your way of making amends for killing his son,” Callaway said. “But you did kill him, sir.”
Senator Lester’s shoulders slumped.
He grabbed a chair and sat down. He lowered his head. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. I didn’t want to hurt Pedro, I really didn’t. Luiz has worked for me for decades. Pedro grew up right before my eyes. When he was young, I used to give Luiz a bonus for Christmas so that he could buy the boy a nice gift. I can’t believe I did that to him.”
Senator Lester choked up in tears.
“What happened, sir?” Callaway asked a minute later.
Senator Lester sighed. “Richard told me what had happened between him and Kyla. I was beyond furious. Sharon would never forgive Richard for what he had done. It would tear the family apart. I told Richard to do everything to convince Kyla to abort the baby. It was the only way for us to move on as a family. Richard was able to convince Kyla, but then she abruptly changed her mind.
“The night Kyla was found dead, Richard had called me. He said he and Kyla had gotten into an argument and he was taking her to the apartment to discuss the matter in private. I waited patiently for him to call me and tell me she had agreed. When I didn’t hear from him, I decided to go to the apartment. I figured maybe I could help him reason with her. When I got there, the place was empty. I had no idea what had happened. I left when I saw Sharon enter the parking lot.”
Callaway did not remember seeing Senator Lester that night.
“I knew why Sharon was there. Richard and I were aware of the men in her life. I should have gone straight home, but I decided to go to Sharon’s house. I wanted to make sure everything was okay. By this time, Richard was not answering his phone. I was concerned. When I reached the house, I caught sight of Richard carrying something heavy from his car to the house. I had no idea what it was, but it didn’t look normal. Why was Richard at Sharon’s house at that time of night? And where was Kyla or Paul, for that matter?
The Lee Callaway Boxed Set Page 22
