Diagnosis: Death (The Paul Monroe Mysteries Book 2)

by A. P. Eisen

  “Paulie.” Rob’s eyes lit up, and he jumped out of his chair and wrapped him in a bear hug. “You have no idea…”

  His voice caught, and Paul whispered, “I know. I know.” Rob had always been there for him, and Paul would make sure to always be there for Rob. “Annabel’s okay now?”

  They sat at their desks, and Rob handed him a coffee. Paul had been so anxious to see Rob, he’d forgotten to stop and get one. With a grateful smile, he took the cup.

  “Better than I thought. She couldn’t wait for me to leave. Almost pushed me out the door.”

  “Thanks for this.” He raised the cup. “I didn’t make any this morning before I left Cliff’s.”

  “You guys spending all your time together now?”

  “For the most part.” He booted up his computer.

  “Getting pretty serious?”

  “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. Anyway, let me bring you up to speed.” He quickly ran through the interviews of the days Rob missed and let him read through the notes and reports he’d filed.

  Rob crumpled up the wax paper of the finished pastry and tossed it into the trash. “So. My opinion is, Shane isn’t our perp. Why would he kill the goose that lays the golden eggs? It’s obvious Ulrich was hooked on him, and Shane knew it, so I don’t doubt Shane wasn’t too worried about Ulrich’s threat. My guess is our most likely suspect is Sonny Boy.”

  “Chase? Yeah.” Paul frowned. “It’s likely, but again, why? I’m not sure it makes sense.”

  “It does if he was high and smashed his father over the head because he was irrational.”

  “You make a good point. Let’s pay him a visit and see what he has to say.” He glanced at his phone. “We can leave in twenty minutes and get there around nine thirty, ten o’clock. That’s not outrageously early.”

  “Nope.” Rob winked. “And it gives me time for another doughnut.”

  Paul tossed a wadded napkin at him and began to gather his notes.

  An hour later, they knocked on the door of the Ulriches’ mansion and were admitted by the flustered-looking housekeeper.

  “Is Mrs. Ulrich expecting you? She never said…” Her usually neat hair was hanging in strands around her face. Behind her, Paul could see open boxes and the painting tarps in various stages of removal.

  “Are we interrupting anything? We need to speak to Chase. Is he home?”

  “Y-yes, but he’s sleeping.”

  Sleeping it off, more likely, Paul thought, but placed a pleasant smile on his face. “We can wait.”

  She glowered at them, but he and Rob maintained neutral expressions.

  “Fine. This way. Watch your step, please.”

  They followed her stiff, straight back as she brought them down the now-familiar hall. Most of the rooms had been finished already, and Paul wondered what needed to be done, since in the times he’d been there, the house was as pristine as a museum. Before they turned the corner, Catherine Ulrich almost ran into the housekeeper, calling her name.

  “Josie? Jo—oh…” Flustered for the first time since they met her, Catherine Ulrich held a silver candlestick in her hand. She wasn’t her usual cool, collected self, and her clothes were old worn jeans and a sweatshirt, rendering her younger and more approachable.

  “Detectives? What are you doing here?”

  “We need to speak to Chase.”

  As expected, her eyes flashed fire. “Why? What do you need to talk to him about?”

  “Mrs. Ulrich, your son is over eighteen and thus an adult. We don’t need to go through you first. Now please have him come down here so we can ask him some questions.”

  While Paul never liked being the bad cop, he also intensely disliked people who stood in the way of him getting to the facts. Was Catherine Ulrich protecting her son because she knew he was guilty, or was it simply maternal instinct? He’d have to get Rob’s take on that.

  The maid, perhaps bolstered by her employer’s appearance, gave them a superior-looking smile. “I have no idea when Chase will be up.” She held out her hand to Mrs. Ulrich. “Catherine, why don’t you give me that? It’s heavy.”

  “Do you know where the other one is, Josie? I’m getting down to the knickknacks.”

  “Probably in a different box. Things were in such a mess.” Her tone grew fond. “You know you’ve never been the most organized packer.”

  Catherine handed the item to the housekeeper and brushed her hands clean. “You know me best. I’m sure you’re right.”

  “Of course I am. The other day I found your shoes mixed in with the books from the library.” She chuckled. “Now why would you do that?”

  “Oh, probably because of all the time I spent reading there. I’d kick off whatever I was wearing, and there was quite a collection. I tossed them all in together.”

  The two women sounded more like friends than housekeeper and homeowner, and Paul was fascinated by their dynamic.

  “You must’ve been devastated by Dr. Ulrich’s death as well, Josie, with how long you’ve worked for the family.”

  “It was a terrible blow, yes.” She gazed at Catherine. “Dr. Ulrich was a wonderful man.”

  “What’s going on?”

  A sleepy-eyed Chase shuffled down the hallway to join them. His red-rimmed eyes, dazed expression, and grayish complexion were characteristic of a user, and despite his anger at the woman stonewalling their investigation, Paul felt sympathy for Catherine Ulrich, who either refused to see how much trouble her son was in, or was desperately trying to hold their family together.

  “Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t know you were awake.”

  Ignoring his mother, Chase pointed at Rob and him. “What’d they want?” He yawned, openmouthed, and scratched his chest.

  “We need to ask you some more questions. Do you want to get dressed first?”

  Not waiting for Chase to respond, Catherine Ulrich jumped in. “You can ask him anything you want with our lawyer present.”

  “Mrs. Ulrich, we’ve already told you. Chase is old enough to answer for himself. Please don’t interrupt.”

  “Yeah. I want a lawyer. You can’t ask me anything without him.”

  Dammit. He and Rob exchanged glances. “Fine. Have your attorney contact us as soon as possible.”

  A slight smile of triumph rested on Catherine Ulrich’s generous lips.

  You might’ve won the battle, lady, but you’re going to lose the war.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Missing their morning runs on the days that Paul was up so early and out the door, Cliff figured he might take advantage of the special at Flex gym and join. Employees weren’t encouraged to use the hotel gym, as it was for guests, and he was given a monthly stipend for fitness that he’d never taken advantage of. Until now. Instead of taking lunch at his desk like he did every other day, he drove downtown and parked his car in the Flex lot.

  “Hi, can I help you?” The young and fit receptionist smiled up at him.

  “I’m interested in memberships. Someone spoke to me about a special you were having, and I was looking for more information.”

  “Sure. Do you remember who it was?”

  “Yeah, it was me, Marcia. I’ll take care of him.”

  Cliff looked over his shoulder and recognized the blond man from a few days earlier. “Oh, hi. Yeah,” he said to the receptionist. “It was him.”

  “Thanks, Shane.”

  “Come on. I can give you a tour.” He cupped Cliff’s elbow and led him around, pointing out the various machines and weight-lifting equipment and apparatuses. They finished up in the locker room.

  “There’s a steam shower and a sauna.” Shane straddled the wooden bench running down the middle of the row of lockers. “So what do you think? Wanna join?”

  Cliff leaned against the lockers. “What are the hours of the gym?”

  “We open at six and close at ten. I do personal training as well, and can stay later if you want. Or”—he gazed at Cliff, not bothering to hide his frank admi
ration—“I’m always willing to come to a client’s house if they’d rather do it that way. You look to be in damn good shape from what I see.”

  Brushing off the compliment, Cliff checked his watch. Half an hour left. If he signed up now, he could come back after he visited his mother and get in a run. “That wouldn’t be necessary. I’m looking to do some work with free weights and the treadmill. I usually run in the park, but my running partner is very busy these days, and I don’t like going alone.”

  “Well, if you sign up now, the gym offers two free personal training sessions.”

  “All right. I’ll do it. I can use the gym right away after I join?”

  “Absolutely.” Shane jumped up. “I’ll get you signed up, and you’ll be set.”

  “Sounds good.”

  With the paperwork done and his picture taken for identification, Shane walked him out to the parking lot. Cliff had to wonder at all the personal attention and braced himself for a come-on.

  “What time do you think you’ll be here? We can do your first session after I give you a personal assessment. It shouldn’t take long.”

  “Not sure if I want to do that today. I might not have time. But I’ll let you know.”

  “Yeah, okay.” He hung around for a second. “Maybe we could go out after and get something to eat.”

  Cliff gave him what he hoped was a friendly smile. “I’m sorry, but I’m seeing someone. It’s pretty serious.”

  “Oh. Okay. Well, let me know when you want your sessions. And if you break up.” He put his hands out in front of him. “Just kidding. Just kidding. See ya.” He walked away.

  Amused, Cliff drove to the hotel and spent the afternoon mired in a mix-up of reservations for a convention scheduled for later in the year. They had reserved a block of rooms, yet none of them were showing up in the system at the discounted rate despite the proper code. By five o’clock, Cliff hadn’t come any closer to solving the problem, which he had a feeling was an internal coding error. That would take another day of digging into the computer system. He made a note to call IT the next day about the reservations, and with a sigh, shut down the computer and escaped.

  “See you tomorrow.” He waved to the front-desk staff and left for the garage.

  When he pulled into his parents’ driveway, he was surprised at how easily he’d fallen into a routine. As if the past hadn’t happened. It troubled him, like the years of hardship had been brushed aside, and in that sense, he felt his parents had gotten off easily.

  It was a battle he fought with himself now. Would he ever enjoy the closeness of a family relationship? That wasn’t an answer to be found by sitting in the car. He grunted, left the car, and pocketing his keys, made tracks across the slightly overgrown lawn.

  His father opened the front door. “Wasn’t sure you’d be coming out of the car. You sat there a while.” A troubled expression clouded his father’s brown eyes. “Got something on your mind?”

  “Not now.” Cliff shook his head. “It can wait. How’s Mom?”

  “Rough but still much better than the first two cycles. She was in the hospital for three days then.” His father took his suit jacket from him and draped it over the banister. “She’s resting now, but she’ll be okay. Come have some coffee. I just made a pot.”

  On his father’s heels, he followed him down the long hallway but stopped before they entered the kitchen. He hadn’t been back in this space since that night. Talking to his parents in the hospital or out in the living room was one thing, but the kitchen held all the memories of that last night when they told him to leave.

  With no idea of the thoughts running through Cliff’s head, his father opened the refrigerator and took out the milk. “How do you take it? I don’t remember.”

  “That’s because I didn’t drink coffee when I still lived here. Before I left.” He leaned against the doorpost, heart banging. “You don’t really know much about me at all anymore.”

  “I thought we settled that. We were going to have a clean slate, start fresh.” As if his pronouncement solved all the damage and pain Cliff had endured.

  “I’m not sure I can. I mean, I said it for Mom’s sake because I don’t want to upset her. And I thought I could, in the moment. But I don’t know. I keep returning to that night and everything it set in motion for me.”

  Coffee forgotten, his father gripped the edge of the countertop. “You’ve done all right for yourself. Went to school and have a good-paying job.”

  “There’s more to life than work. Do you realize neither of you asked how I managed to live after I left home? Does it only matter that I ended up okay?” A thought struck him. “What would you do if I didn’t have a corporate job and look like I could pass for straight?”

  “What the hell are you talking about? You weren’t a baby when you left. You were a grown man.”

  “But I was still your son, and you turned me away. I had no job, nowhere to stay. I slept on couches and floors of friends before I found work and could save up enough to rent a place. I got lucky to land a great job, but it was scary for a while. And lonely.”

  So damn lonely.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say that I haven’t already. Your mother and I apologized. We said we were wrong for what we did. What else is there?”

  Exhausted and hurt by his father’s matter-of-fact answers to his concerns, Cliff scrubbed his hands over his face. “I think I’d better go. I’ll call tomorrow to see if Mom’s okay before I come by.”

  He didn’t give his father a chance to answer. He picked up his jacket and walked out.

  More than anything, he wanted to be with Paul, but it was too early. Glad that he now had the refuge of the gym to escape to, Cliff didn’t look back and took off for Flex.

  When he arrived, he realized he didn’t have any workout clothes. Sneakers, yes, as he kept an extra pair in the trunk of his car in case he needed to change and not ruin his shoes if he got caught in the rain. Well, I can always use a new T-shirt and shorts. Flex had a runners’ shop, and he walked out with a pair of shorts and a T-shirt with the Flex logo. He grabbed a towel and a free bottle of water and spotted Shane working out with a client. A sigh of relief escaped him, and he selected a treadmill at the end. Choosing a challenging program so he wouldn’t think about what happened with his father, Cliff began to run, losing himself in the steady motion.

  Some time later, dripping with sweat, he checked his phone and saw that thirty minutes had passed. He grabbed the bottle of water and took a big gulp.

  “I hope you won’t be too tired later tonight.”

  He whipped his head around to see Paul standing off to the side with that half smile Cliff knew hid a whole lot of meaning.

  “Oh, don’t you worry. I’ll be able to keep up with you.” He pushed the button and slowed down to a walk. “What’re you doing here?”

  “I was driving down Main on my way back to my apartment to change, then come over, when I spotted your car in the lot.” He folded his arms. “I didn’t know you’d joined.”

  “It was spur-of-the-moment.” He stopped his cooldown, and after slinging the towel around his neck, hopped off the machine. “With you so busy, I’ve missed our morning runs, and I didn’t want to get out of shape.”

  Paul’s eyes flared. “I thought I was giving you enough exercise at night.”

  “Oh, you do. But it’s actually a good place for me to come and clear my head.”

  The reason Paul was such an excellent detective was that he picked up on vibes and cues people might not even realize they were sending out.

  “What’s wrong?” His gaze sharpened. “You don’t look good.” That line deepened between the slash of dark brows whenever Paul concentrated. And right now his attention was laser-focused on Cliff.

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t brush me off.”

  He had no intention of doing so, but he couldn’t talk about it. Not at the gym, with the grunts of weightlifters in his ears and the smell of swea
t rising around him in a foggy cloud.

  “I’m not. But I don’t want to have that discussion here. Okay?”

  Cliff stiffened at the sight of Shane approaching them.

  “You two know each other?” Shane asked.

  Ignoring Shane’s intrusion, Paul tilted his head. “I’ll wait for you to finish.”

  “Oh, now I see.”

  “Yeah?” For the first time, Paul acknowledged Shane, eyes flat and face expressionless, but Cliff knew the tremendous control Paul exerted not to snap. “You don’t know what you see. Matter of fact, you don’t know anything.” He tipped his head to Cliff. “I’ll wait outside.” Without another word, he walked away and out of the gym.

  Cliff finished wiping the sweat off his arms, then sprayed down the equipment with sanitizer, hoping Shane would leave.

  “You friends with that cop? Or something more?”

  “I’m here to work out, not discuss my social life, so if you’ll excuse me, I have to go take my shower.”

  “Yeah, I get it. I’ve been with plenty of closeted types, believe me. It’s fine in the beginning when the sex is great. Then you get tired of being treated like a dirty secret.”

  Cliff didn’t want to hear Shane talk. Paul had come so far in the three months they’d been together. He’d never treated Cliff like a dirty secret.

  Hating that he’d allowed Shane a moment of his headspace, he spit out, “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Cliff pushed past Shane and entered the locker room, where he took a shower so quick, the water barely hit his skin. He changed into his work clothes, and holding the Flex T-shirt and shorts, walked over to the front desk.

  “I want to cancel my membership.”

  The receptionist’s smile faded. “Is something wrong?”

  “You need to keep an eye on your trainer, Shane. He’s a bit too pushy for me. It’s not the right fit. Can you cancel it, please?”

  “Are you sure? You have thirty days to use the gym.”

  He’d rather be celibate for a month.

  “I’m sure. Please.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry.” She punched in a few buttons on the computer. “Okay. Your membership is canceled, effective immediately. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”